This past week a friend of mine lost her home to a fire. Her neighbors in the apartment complex lost theirs as well, and all of their earthly possessions were lost too. There is never a good time for a house fire, but it seems to me the holidays might be the worst time. Homes are filled with Christmas presents, decorations, and the air is filled with the excitement and expectations of Christmas. Then tragedy comes along and that Christmas spirit can be lost, replaced by a memory that will be forever hard to let go of down the road.
But, and it might be hard for these folks to see this, there seems to always be a silver lining. If one was to look closely at the situation, there should be some solace and a warmth in the soul following the community’s reaction to the tragedy. Even as the fire burned there was an almost immediate call to help those impacted. Donation efforts began, clothes were gathered to give to those who had literally just lost all but the clothes on their backs, and the community rallied to help those who sat and watched the fire take everything they owned.
I was moved by the response. Even the owner of the apartment complex offered prayers and help (as I knew they would) and the family and friends of those displaced made sure there were places to sleep, clothes to wear, food to eat, and prayers being lifted.
My friend is a young lady. She had not been in the apartment very long, and us of an older age can remember what it was like to be in our 20’s, trying to figure out life, find our way, and put together the building blocks that would later serve as the foundation of our lives. This young lady has been a part of my life since she was a small child. She was one that my wife once took under her wing to help instill the love of God into her soul, which makes her instantly special to me. She now watches over the two little souls that I call my grandchildren, making her even more special to me. No doubt everyone in that apartment complex that lost all has someone that feels the same way about them.
That seems to me to be the very essence of the spirit of Christmas. One night many years ago, a gift was born in a manger. That gift was freely given to all, and I do mean all. It was given to the one who sits right now with a crack pipe. It was given to the soul that right now sits in judgement of those around them, believing themselves to be a better Christian than most. It was given to Baptists, Pentecostals, Catholics, Muslims, and Methodists, whether you be a Congregational Methodist, a free Methodist or a United Methodist. (That’s a subject for another time) The gift God gave us all that night was a gift that can never be matched. It was a “donation” of His very life blood, shed on a cross, poured out to take the place and cover our sins forever. It was the absolute best gift that could ever be given. As we place our wrapped gifts under a brightly lit tree, we have to remember the gift that was given with the nails driven into His arms and feet on a far different tree.
I pray that as we all move toward the joy of Christmas, we remember the gift that He gave us all. AS we go about helping others and giving gifts under the Christmas tree, we remember His gift and remember for being the reason we celebrate this holiday, and most of all, we remember that doing for others and spreading that good will, as He did for us, is the best way to feel peace on Earth.