Some of you might not know this, but I’ve been writing ‘Pastor’s Perspective’ for ten years now. It began in my previous ministry as a weekly newspaper article, and now it has evolved into an online blog.
Recently I waxed sentimental when I found this article from Christmas 2002. I’m reheating it with prayer that it will resonate with you and draw utmost attention to the season’s true hero. Enjoy!
Four-year-olds are amazing! My little girl, Emma, just enraptures me. Whoever said “all daddies need a little girl” was dead-on. I mean, this child intrigues me. Not only is she the cutest child on the planet, in my somewhat biased opinion, she’s also the smartest! Her newest kick is to ask me, “Daddy, tell me stories of when you were a little boy.”
As the big 4-0 stares me in the face, remembering stories from early childhood becomes more challenging. So, if you see a graying man in a car next to yours at a stoplight rubbing his temples, that’s probably me trying to excavate a long-lost memory for Emma’s enjoyment!
This morning I was awakened by Emma’s face hovering a half a millimeter over mine. Before I could vocalize a playful “Morning. What are you doing in Mommy and Daddy’s bed?” Emma was ready for a tale from the official Steve Kiefer autobiography. “Tell me about when you were a little boy at Christmastime.”
Folks, its tough enough pulling anything out of the memory Rolodex without being season-specific! Suddenly, without warning, I went from sweet slumber to being put on the spot – a groggy game show contestant. Not wanting to disappoint my in-house investigator, I shifted my cerebellum into high gear. With a few seconds, a yuletide memory broke through the fog of time and delighted my little girl.
My first Christmas memory was of being a first-grader in suburban Tampa circa 1969. Back in those days it was not uncommon to go to school on Christmas Eve, which is where my memory transported me. The excitement on my school bus was almost unbearable. My friends and I had been counting the days until the night Santa would arrive. In my young rationality, I knew that the sooner I went to bed, the sooner Santa would come and I could wake up to wrapping-ripping splendor!
As my bus came to a halt at the mouth of our street, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to my house. As usual, Mom met me at the door with her usual hugs and kisses. However, this was not a usual day. Didn’t Mom know who was on his way, with a sleigh-full of toys? No time for hugs! 86 the smooching!
With red and green radiating from my determined eyes, I sped toward the room I shared with my little brother. Though the bedroom door was only a few feet from my bunk bed, I must have looked like Carl Lewis long jumping onto the bed and scampering under the embroidered ‘cowboy’ covers. Sleep was my bridge to toys!
Mom, concerned by her eldest son’s frenzied behavior, followed me. She probably thought I was sick, climbing into bed at three in the afternoon! In actuality I was – I had a bad case of Santa Claus Fever! After some sweet investigation on Mom’s part, she assured me that I should get up, that Santa would be along shortly. Plus, we had to attend a family function in the country that evening. My plan was dashed.
That evening I was a nervous wreck. Aunt Ona and Uncle Clyde had a great house in the big metropolitan city of Mango (heavy sarcasm there). It was always fun to escape the city and visit our country mice relatives. Uncle Clyde let us pet his horses and pick oranges, a kick for a kid living just a half a mile from an international airport.
There was a great Christmastime Walton Mountain vibe in their home that infamous Christmas Eve, but little Stephen was distracted. I became more and more worried as the party bumped up against midnight – Santa’s ETA. Carelessly walking in on him might disturb and perturb the elf- ultimately affecting my present yield!
Upon arriving home, Dad went in first and scoped out the situation. He returned to the car and assured us that Santa had not yet arrived. My brother and I ran like scalded apes into the house, into our bedroom and under our covers. A holiday crisis had been avoided.
Emma was thoroughly entertained by my story. She flashed me an angelic Rockwell smile I never ever want to forget, and scampered out of our bedroom giggling and satisfied. Before getting up and starting my busy day, I lingered in that memory from long ago just a few minutes longer. As I rewound the tape and played it again in my mind, the Lord shared some unanticipated insight with me. No audible voices, burning bushes or blinding lights, just a still small inner impression. His Spirit reminded me that my behavior that Christmas Eve reflected something much deeper and sobering.
Like the ‘Jumping-in-bed-at-three-in-the-afternoon-Steve’, some folks are genuinely excited and ready for the return of Jesus Christ. They ache for the day when all things will be made right; when we will see again our righteous loved ones; when we’ll see the Father in all His glory with our very own eyes. They see they signs leading up to His arrival and know that it is soon.
However, the sad reality is that most folks are the ‘I-don’t-want-to-see-or-encounter-Him Steve’. God is appropriate to talk to when we want something (like sitting on Santa’s lap), but other than that we’d rather not have to deal with Him. Like the jolly elf, the Lord lives far away, He’s mega-busy, and He only rewards the “good girls and boys”. Right? The timetable on getting their lives together is perpetually on the setting – ‘Someday’. Like Santa to them, He is believed by the immature or the easily deceived among us. Right?
Friends, the Bible tells us that Jesus Christ is indeed returning soon. The signs are evident and increasing. For those looking forward to His appearing, it is a blessed promise on which we as Christians stand and smile facing our future. For those who view His return not as a fulfillment, but instead as a regretful event for which they are unprepared, it’s not too late! The Lord is not a fairy tale for the weak-minded, nor is He far from us. Instead, He is just a repentant prayer away.
He has already personally delivered the greatest gift available to you and your family this Christmas – a real, forgiving and saving relationship with Him through His resurrected Son Jesus Christ!
Why not accept that free gift by faith today? I promise, it will be a memory you’ll never regret or forget!
Merry Christmas!
No comments:
Post a Comment