The final four months of 2007 was perhaps the most emotionally charged period of my life. In September of that year our oldest daughter presented us with our first grandchild, Makenna. She brought with her great joy as well as our first brush with losing a child. Out daughter Jodi became very ill before delivery and became even more seriously ill after. A direct intervention of God provided us with a welcome miracle. A few days later she would leave the hospital while the doctor scratched his head wondering how he could have gotten it so wrong.
In a few private moments of gratitude and healing with Shaunda, I came to a conclusion which I readily voiced to her. “I know we have been through a lot in our lives, but I really don’t think God will take one of our children.” In just over ninety days, Christmas Eve of that same year would find us in the surgery waiting room, Matt having been diagnosed with cancer. Fourteen months later I stood by a mound of fresh dirt near his grave scratching my head and wondering how I could have gotten it so wrong.
If you have read TEARS IN A BOTTLE you may recall our story of Christmas 2007 spent in the hospital and the Christmas miracles of that day that buoyed our hope. You may even recall the story of Christmas 2008 that held its own Christmas miracle as well. Then Matt passed away in March of 2009. By the time Christmas of that year rolled around, you might well imagine that we approached this Holiday with great trepidation.
The best way to describe Christmas Eve of 2009 was to say that it was quiet. The brutal emotional warfare of the previous two years was now in the past, replaced by a sort of emotional numbness. It was truly wonderful to take a breath without the weight of a thousand lifetimes pressing on my chest, yet it in its place lived a nagging void. We had completed all of our family Christmas traditions and activities for the year. We had opened all our gifts during “alternate date” Christmases with family. Church festivities were completed for the year. Shaunda and I sat down in the living room to take in a few moments of the traditional holiday fare offered on broadcast television. Other than the TV, the only light in the living room came from the lights on the tree, which seemed to be a bit more dim than in years past.
So Shaunda and I sat there. In the quiet. In the dark. Not saying a word. Lost in our private worlds. It continued late into the night, neither one of us sure of exactly how to simply get up and go to bed. There were no gifts to wrap, no road race or dollhouse to assemble, and no hospital room to decorate. Perhaps we just sat there because there really was no reason to get up early the next morning… Christmas morning
We were both jolted back to reality by the unexpected ringing of the doorbell.
To be quite honest, my “police side” reacted first. I’d better go get my badge and my Glock. Who rings the doorbell at this hour? And on Christmas Eve? Too late. Shaunda had already switched on the porch light and opened the door. She stood there motionless as I joined her. Then Shaunda suddenly threw open the door and in walked Jodi and Ben… and our now two and a half year old granddaughter Makenna. They were totally unexpected. We were totally unprepared. It was unspeakably beautiful.
“Thought you might need some company” Jodi said as she marched right past me bags in hand. Soon she and Ben saw to it that Santa somehow delivered all of Makenna’s gifts to our house. Seems like there was one Christmas miracle left for me. Our kids brought life back into our home that Christmas Eve now so many years ago. It was hard to go to bed that night, but easy to get up the next morning. There’s just something in the eyes of a child at Christmas that brings out the child in the rest of us.
If you are hurting this year, I pray a Christmas miracle for you. Better yet, go and be that miracle for someone else. You may find that the best path through your heartache is to look for ways to use your Journey to help others. Theres no way to explain why that works, but perhaps it’s pictured in the greatest Christmas miracle of all. Jesus came to this world to save sinners, sinners just like us. As a matter of fact, the Bible says that He stands at the door and knocks, or is “ringing the doorbell” if you will. Open the door and He will come in. He can bring real life into your home, and eternal life into your soul.
Sometimes this Journey we call life really hurts. When it does, we tend to look inward and enter a selfish mode of self protection. If we’re not careful, we find ourselves lost in the dark. Before we know it, moments have passed. Sometimes years have passed. Why not make the choice to not take one moment of life for granted. Don’t give up. Don’t quit. Trust again. Live again. Smile again.
Listen for the doorbell. Your Christmas miracle may be at hand.