I Remember Christmas
I remember Christmas at 7
As I climbed the steep steps to the very cold attic, I hoped my tears would not freeze. At the top of the steps, I looked up at the beams in the pitched roof of the house in Zeist, Netherlands. I shivered when I turned left and walked into the knotty pine paneled room, so small the bunkbed hardly fit and the red cloth covered seating along one wall of the room almost hit my knees when I sat on the edge of the bed.
When I climbed under the covers the sheets were freezing. My mother had not come up with the bed- warming copper pan. The copper pan with the long handle and hot coals from the fire. It was Christmas eve, and I was both cold and lonely.
Looking out from under the heavy covers my imagination kicked in, and not in a good way. The year was 1947 and World War II was just over. Walking out the door of our rented home the evidence or the horrors of war were all around. No matter where we went the bombed-out buildings and people still scurrying around as if looking for protection from the bombs that were not coming any more. It was a lot to process for a 7-year-old boy from Grand Rapids, Michigan. The contrast with my grandparent’s stately home, a cottage (big house) on Lake Michigan, multiple Aunts and Uncles and lots of cousins was both dramatic and disorienting. I felt very along. Where was I and why was I here? reflected my thoughts and disorienting fears.
As dark shadows danced across the room reflecting the movement of the trees against a bright moon shining through the window in the ceiling, I envisioned the Nazi SS sitting on my very bed and looking for the two sons hiding just feet away in a cramped space behind the paneled walls. Low as my bunk was, I could see the paneling beneath the red bench that opened just enough to pull the lever opening the paneling to their hiding place. Now I was not only cold but scared, my mind racing and not knowing what to think or what to do. Would those bad men ever come back? Maybe I could hide behind the wall too!
Finally, my mom came up, warmed the bed, heard my prayers, and confirmed again how much she and my dad loved me. She assured me that all we’d left behind would be there when we retuned back to what we knew in 6 months and that I was a brave boy. It was Christmas eve. My tears stopped and then dried on my face. I finally fell asleep.
I share this story of a small part of my youth recognizing that each and every experience of life provides an opportunity to learn and grow. This learning and growing is what provides the basis for making the life altering choices and decision for, in my case, the next 53 years and beyond. While I felt alone and scared on that Christmas eve now so long ago, I’ve learned that Jesus loves me and with him, I am not alone and I need to be afraid. With him there is no need to fear as the Angels told the shepherds, “fear not”.
Judy and I were sitting on the hillside near the town of Bethlehem a few years ago. We looked over the valley and imagined the shepherds in this field watching their sheep. We could imagine the cold night, perhaps a fire to keep them warm, and the frustration when a sheep would stray. We imagined that some were young shepherds, some were old shepherds hopefully encouraging the young ones. All of them accepting their life as shepherds and never imaging that they would play a role in history. Never imagining that their response to the angels and then an encounter with Jesus would be remembered with awe for the next 2000 plus years. Have you wondered as I have what it would be like to be there?
That little boy in Zeist and the shepherds have some things in common. They were both cold, they both experienced a new circumstance prompting initial fear, and they both learned something new. Both found comfort in the face of a new, and scary circumstance. Both learned that God is with us and we need not be afraid. Both learned that when love shows up, fear disappears. Both learned that coming ever closer to the Savior is a critical step to experiencing the fruits of the spirit promised to all who follow him. Both learned that following Him leads to a new and wonderful way to live, regardless of circumstances.
As we anticipate the New Year being built on our rear-view mirror experiences, we are encouraged by God’s affirmation of never ending love. Join us as we journey together with the message of the Retirement Reformation ringing in our ears, “I am with you and will not forsake you as you follow my commands and together send a message to all that Jesus is King.” You are not shepherds and I’m not 7, yet our lives continue to be shaped by the babe in the manger, His Father’s never-ending love, and the ongoing work and encouragement of the Holy Spirit in our lives.
Merry Christmas and Joy to the World.
Bruce
