The BEST Gift Ever

Well, another Christmas has come and gone.  Left behind were mounds of wrapping paper, strewn boxes, ribbon galore, and lots of happy family . . . at least most of the family was happy.  I haven’t quite decided what I am yet . . .

On Christmas Day the wife posted a picture of her Christmas gift from me on Instagram—a Bose stereo system.  It looks exactly like the one pictured above.  After having listened to her moan and groan for months about the inability of her small CD player being able to not play more than one CD at a time, I decided to get her a multi-player CD player.  I looked high and low for a small, compact CD for her shelf in the kitchen . . . to no avail.  Everything I found was big, clunky, and more like something you would see in a bar.  So, I bit the bullet and went for the best—the Bose system.  And boy, am I glad that I did . . . the wife hasn’t wiped the smile off her face since she started using it—continuously.  She was quite pleased with her Christmas gift.  I’m glad to see her happy.

On the other hand . . . as I stated earlier, I am not so sure what I am.  Like me the wife spent a lot of time researching and looking around to get me a Christmas gift.  She talked to a lot of people about exactly what would be the best for me.  She harangued the salespeople until she got exactly what she thought I should have.  Then she wrapped it and placed it next to the tree . . . it had to go next to the tree because it was practically the same size as the tree.  Let it be known, for once I actually had the largest present next to the tree.  The anticipation built for the couple of days I had to wait to open the present . . .

Imagine, then, my surprise when I opened that huge gift and saw a . . . 

. . . LADDER!

Yep, I got a ladder.  Not just any ladder, but a Werner Telescoping Multi-Ladder!  To say the least I was more than a little shocked . . . it just was not what I was expecting.  In fact, it really wouldn’t be what anyone would be expecting . . . unless you are a carpenter or painter . . . especially on Christmas Day!  But there it was in all of its glory with the wife smiling from ear-to-ear.  I had no words to describe what I was feeling.  I looked over at her Bose and then, over at my Werner . . . tears filled my eyes.

A ladder!  Who gives a non-mechanical, non-builder, a non-climber, a non-anything that has to do with a ladder, a ladder for Christmas?  In the past, when I needed a ladder, I wandered over to the neighbors and borrowed one of theirs.  It was simple, fast, and I did not have to hassle with finding a place in the garage to store it.  At the most this took place twice a year—putting the Christmas lights up and taking them down.  As I watched and listened to my wife play with her new stereo—enjoying the her music—over and over again, the rest of the family cracked jokes about how I could go outside and play with my ladder.  Tears, again, filled my eyes as they all laughed.

Oh, well . . .

I will eventually get over it.  In the meantime the ladder leans against the wall in the garage until the snow melts.  Until the snow melts I really cannot climb up on the roof of the house using my new ladder.  It might be about mid-June before I actually get to “play” with my ladder.  In the meantime, I admire it from a distance.

Lots of gifts were exchanged around the tree on Christmas.  The wife and I got the neatest gift from our daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter . . . a photo book of their little family from the birth to about the present.  It was filled with lots and lots of wonderful and beautiful pictures of the three of them, but mostly the granddaughter during the first five months of her life.  It was great!  Again, my eyes filled with tears, but I knew these were tears of happiness and joy.

That gift said it all . . . it represented the greatest gift of all . . . it was a symbol.  True, the photo book was wonderful, but it pointed to a bigger gift.  As we sat around the Christmas tree, opening gifts, laughing, and generally having a festive time, I looked around.  As I looked around I saw our sons—all grown up as adults, still getting excited with each present they opened.  I saw our daughter, her husband, and their daughter—our granddaughter, sitting together in the midst of their little family.  I saw the wife smiling, encouraging the others to open their presents, and basking in their joy.  I saw the dogs, lounging in their Christmas sleep.  This was the “real” gift . . . this was the greatest gift of all—family!

As the Rolling Stones once stated, and I paraphrase here: “You don’t always get what you want, but you always get what you need.”  Family is what I needed . . . the ladder, well the jury is still out on that one, but family is truly the best and greatest gift of all.   

Chip Off the Ol’ Block

I should have known . . . after all, her grandmother and I each had something to do with creating her mother. According to science, a little bit of each of our DNA mingled together to create her mother and make her who she is today.  So, I imagine a little bit of the two of us have made it into our granddaughter.  With the holiday season upon us we have been graced with our daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter being home for the holidays to visit all of her family on both sides.  It is a sort of “coming out” party for the granddaughter . . . a great big party that I have been thoroughly enjoying . . . the kid is a chip off the ol’ block.

My granddaughter and I have a special bond.  I see a lot of me in her . . . and, that could be saying a lot or it could be scary—time will tell.  But, in the two-and-a-half days that I have had the privilege of being with her, I have noticed that we have a lot of the same tendencies and mannerisms.

First of all, we have the same hair . . . at least for the time being.  We are both bald.  Fortunately for her she will eventually grow hair, while her grandfather will continue to lose hair.  For now, though, we share the chrome dome look, and I have to admit, it looks a whole lot better on her than it does me.

Second, we both like our bottles.  She likes hers with milk, and I like mine with beer.  We both have an affinity for bottles.  Neither one of us likes it when people mess with our bottles . . . bottles are sacred.  Whenever someone attempts to take our bottles before we are finished we both throw a hissy-fit.  It isn’t pretty.  But, it seems to be more acceptable coming from a nearly five month old child than a nearly 55 year old adult.  Either way, don’t mess with our bottles.

Third, we both get grumpy when we are tired.  She wears her grumpiness much better than I do.  Where I am sarcastic, she is just whiny and teary.  The granddaughter is at that age where her grumpiness comes from a desperate need to take in everything around her . . . the world is new to her and it fascinates her . . . she doesn’t want to miss anything.  So, she fights falling to sleep.  Her grandpa, on the other hand, just gets grumpy . . . then whiny . . . then teary eyed.  No one thinks it is cute from a middle-aged man, but everyone loves it when the granddaughter does it. 

We both like to babble and make noises.  The granddaughter is discovering her voice and loves to hear herself.  Me, well, let’s just say that it is a good thing that the granddaughter has arrived . . . I can now get away with babbling and making noises without people staring at me like I have lost my mind.  But, it only works when I am with the granddaughter.  It seems that it is socially acceptable for adults to babbling and make noises when they are with a small child.  At other times . . . well, let’s just say one gets a lot of weird stares.  With my granddaughter in tow, I can be as weird as I want to be and no one cares.

I want to thank my daughter and son-in-law in cooperatively bringing this unique, beautiful child into the lives of my wife and I.  The granddaughter is a chip off the ol’ block right now.  She and I have a lot in common that we seem to enjoy sharing.  We are developing a pretty special bond and that is way cool.  We seem to truly enjoy one another’s presence in each other’s life.  Not bad for the first five months . . . the goal is to make those bonds grown deeper and deeper as the years go by.  We may not always have these commonalities as we get older, but we will have each other.  This has been one of the nicest Christmas gifts I have ever received.  The granddaughter is pretty special in her grandpa’s eyes . . . and, grandpa hopes he is in her eyes too.  In the years to come, I am banking on it . . . after all, she is a chip off the ol’ block.

Rejoicing Through Tears

"Rachel Weeping"

This sculpture is by Sondra Jonson, a family

friend from Cambridge, Nebraska.

 

 

 

Friday morning a shot was heard across our nation that took the lives of 28 people in an elementary school in Connecticut.  It was the second worse mass killing ever in a school in our nation, and it shocked everyone across the land.  Out of the hectic rush of the holiday season it became evident that this is not the idyllic world painted in the Hallmark specials playing on our televisions . . . this is a cruel, mean, violent world in which we exist.  A world in which bad things can happen in the flash of a moment to change all of our lives forever.  The reality is far, far from the gentle picture painted in Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon.  When we slow down enough it becomes evident that this is a scary world in which we live in.

Think about it . . . we live in a nation that these sort of massacres occur on a regular basis . . . two in the past week alone—one in Oregon and one in Connecticut.  We open our papers and read of wars in not one country, but in many countries . . . the death tolls are staggering.  We read of the cruel treatment of people in countries which are ruled by dictators . . . the human rights violations that are happening left and right . . . it is a cruel, violent, and scary world in which we live.  Such news happens all of the time and it is only a oblivious individual who is not aware of this . . . and, it does not seem to be getting any better.

 

It seems as if these vigils of mourning are occurring more and more often in our lives . . . so, often that many of us are becoming quite callous about it all.  But, hasn’t it always been that way?  I can remember hearing my father tell me that his father feared for his grandchildren being raise in the world in which they were born.  My father said the same thing about his grandchildren . . . and, lately, I have thought the same thing for mine. 

As we all know, bad things happen . . . they happen to both good and bad people throughout the world.  In Alcoholics Anonymous, and I paraphrase it here, “Poop happens.”  It seems to happen on a pretty regular basis and yet, we still have no way of explaining it . . . of understanding it.  Even when we lift our prayers to God, we just don’t get it.  And, as I said earlier, we are not the first to be thrust into this situation . . . we are just a part of a long line of those generations who have had to deal with their own tragedies.

      

What are we to do?  As the followers of Jesus, what are we to do?  Well, our reading this morning gives us some advice as to how we are to exist in a world that seems to be crazy.  The writer tells us: “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

      

How does one rejoice in a season filled with tragedy . . . a season of mourning?  How does one lift up praise through the wailing and tears?  Has this writer—this follower of Jesus—lost his mind?  To rejoice when one wants to lash out in anger and tears at the senselessness of it all seems ridiculous.  Seems worthless . . . futile. 

     

As ridiculous it sounds, the writer is right.  We need to rejoice . . . we need to rejoice now more than ever if we are to come out of this darkness and be okay.  We are to rejoice for the children and adults who lost their lives in this senseless killing.  In the midst of our tears we are to be filled with thanksgiving . . . filled with praise.  The writer tells us, we are not alone . . . “The Lord is near.”

      

The season of Advent is always describe as a season of darkness . . . that darkness can be taken literally or figuratively.  As the followers of Jesus we are called to journey through this darkness to the light . . . the light that shatters the darkness.  We live in a time of great darkness as witnessed by what happened this past Friday morning in Connecticut and continues to happen throughout the world that God created.  It is a tough journey that tries our hearts, our minds, and our souls.  It is scary, and yet, we are called to fill it with joy . . . to rejoice!  To rejoice in the darkness of the world.

     

We rejoice because “the Lord is near.”  Because the Lord is near we should not be anxious . . . we should not be scared . . . God is with us.  We are not alone no matter how good or bad life might be . . . God is with us.  God will never abandon us.  God’s goal for each of us is to never ever to be alone . . . to know that we are loved and cared for no matter how crummy the world might treat us. 

     

I know that this does not sound right . . . does not make a lot of sense, but that is what we followers of Jesus are called upon to do and be.  We are to embrace the peace that comes from being in an intimate relationship with God.  It is a relationship and a sense of being that is marked by God’s peace . . . a peace that transcends all understanding.  You can’t explain, but you know it and you feel it . . . even in a time of great tragedy.

     

We cannot deny the sadness and grief we feel over the event that took place in that elementary school this past Friday—those feelings are real and they hurt.  We cry out from the depths of our souls at the senselessness of it all . . . and yet, we are called to rejoice in the darkness of it.  We are to rejoice at the response of love and grace that has been showered down upon the survivors and their families in this time of tragedy—they are not alone nor are they forgotten.  A nation—a world—embraces them, holds them tightly, and tells them that they are not alone.  Nor does God hide in this time of darkness, God is there . . . shedding tears with us all . . . feeling the grief, the sadness of it all.  God is with them and with us—none of us is alone.

      

My mother had a big heart . . . a heart that seemed to embrace the whole world . . . and it sadden her to see the darkness of the world around her.  Yet, at the same time, whenever something terrible happened to me or the world around me, she would say, that this too shall pass . . . that God would be with us.  For that we should rejoice.

      

So it is that we continue our journey through the season of Advent, the season of Advent . . . only now we step ever so gently as we have been reminded that this is a big scary world in which we live.  A world in which bad things happen to people all of the time . . . a world in which violence is common place . . . a world that doesn’t often make much sense . . . a world that makes our hearts ache.  The only way through it is through discovering the peace of God that transcends all understanding.  We are to embrace such a peace whether we understand it or not.  It is a peace based on the knowledge that God is with us . . . we are not alone.  It brings out the best of us that others can see.

      

Yes, we cry for those who died in Connecticut, but we rejoice also in our tears.  We are not alone . . . we have one another, and we have God.  It doesn’t make much sense, but it gets us through the darkness and into the light.  Amen.