Rock Pile

It seems to happen every year. The shopping is finished. The parties are over. All of the surprises have been had. We've gone through the annual ritual of opening the family Christmas gifts in front of the fireplace, around that splendid tree that my wife always puts up. Each of the family members tends to drift off to our own quiet little corner of the house. Reading the new book. Trying on the new clothes. Playing with the new gadget. Everyone seems content.

And me? I guess I'm no different. I drift off a bit myself. I usually put away the things I received for Christmas right away. I may have to endure the frustration of trying to put together a new toy for the kids. Or I'll have to figure out what part is missing from the new gadget --- and promise that we'll shop for it the day after Christmas. But inevitably, I find myself drifting off to a place in my mind.

It's a unique little place. A library of sorts. It holds all those memories of Christmases past. I don't go there often. Really I only go there at Christmas time. How strange that is. I wonder why I don't visit there more frequently than that.

In this unique place in my mind, I find the face of Christmases past. I recall family Christmases at home when I was younger. Dad & Mom set the tone. Brothers and sister, nieces and nephews, grandparents. They were all part of the scene. Grandpa and Grandma are dead now. Long ago actually. Dad and Mom are dead too. Brothers have drifted off to their own lives. Nieces and nephews grew up. My sister continues to be estranged ... certain that she knows better than I what truth is all about.

I don't know if it's a memory of Christmases past - or a reminder of Christmases lost. Christmas in my youth always seemed a special time. But I can't say they were better Christmases. They were different. And more noticeable is how I find that they had such an impact on me. They seem like such profound Christmases now. And I find myself grieving. But what is it that I grieve? Good question.

I don't know if I would wish for things to be like they were in days gone by. I'm pretty sure that I don't. I've always been the guy who looks ahead, embraces change and believes in the future. But apparently I grieve something. And I do it just about every year on Christmas day. What could it be? What could take the most special day of the year and drive me to a melancholy mood of somber silence?

I wonder if maybe I'm just grieving the Christmases that could have been. I come from what could only be defined as a dysfunctional family. Ironically, I'm pretty sure that most of my family members would argue with me about that definition. (That in itself probably validates the definition.) I have to admit that the dysfunction saddens me. And perhaps it saddens me more at Christmas time than at any other time of the year.

Is it that Christmas can shine such a light on family dysfunction? Or is it that the world around us puts such expectations upon Christmas that any family looks dysfunctional as it fails to live up to those unrealistic expectations? Somehow I expect it is the latter. Regardless of the cause, family dysfunction seems to foist its measure of sadness on me at Christmas more than any other time of the year.

Now somewhere in this place of sadness, I find myself turning to my Lord. It's as if He followed me into this place. And just when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by the dysfunction of it all ... I turn and He is there. And He's saying, "I'm here, son. Embrace me." When He does that, the pain of any family dysfunction seems to fade. He is that kind of God.

I always get up in the morning and read my Bible ... before I do anything else. I was sharing with a friend the other day how intense those sessions have gotten lately. I can sit and read for hours if the day would allow. I just can't seem to spend enough time in God's Word lately. Anyway, I was reading this morning in the book of Joshua and had a profound epiphany on Christmas morning. In the book of Joshua.

Moses had died and Joshua was leading the Israelites into the Promised Land. As God had instructed, Joshua had the Levite priests carry the Ark of the Covenant ahead of the people. They had to cross the Jordan River, which was seasonally at its crest. But when the priests set foot into the Jordan River, it stopped flowing and the water piled up on one side, while draining from the other side. Soon there was a dry river bed for the Israelites to cross.

The Levites stood there with the Ark of the Covenant while something like 2 million people crossed. It was an incredible miracle. Just like He had parted the Red Sea some 40 years earlier, God again parted the rushing, turbulent and deepest waters of the Jordan River to make a clear, safe passage for His people.

After they had crossed, Joshua had leaders of the 12 tribes go and get a rock each from the dry river bed. When the priests came out the water rushed back in and the river was again fully and flowing. But they used the rocks to make a sort of a monument --- to remind them of what God had done for them.

So as I went out front to get the morning paper, the cold air confronted me. It was at that moment that I realized God has parted plenty of rushing, dangerous waters for me in my day. I've walked through amazing circumstances safely because of His intervention. I stood there in the crisp dawn and thanked God aloud. I wondered if I should build a memorial of rocks in my yard to remind me of where God has taken me.

I can't seem to help but make this annual trek to the sadder places of my mind. It seems that the Christmas festivities and the unreal expectations that our society places on them drive me there, year after year. But I also can't explain the miracle that occurs each year. I wander through the family dysfunction, observing the pain of what has or what could have been.

And always I turn and He is there. God is right there with me. And He says that Jesus is enough. Jesus is more than enough for everything that was or could have been. At our church's Christmas Eve service last night, I sat and listened to the most beautiful voice of the soloist singing, "Hallelujah, hallelujah! Son of God ... you're here with me." And the tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought about just how true that really is. He is here with me.

I stand in awe of a most wonderful God. I stand humbled, joyous over the knowledge that God is triumphant. And I stand with the unshakable confidence in the knowledge that I am His. And I say, "Merry Christmas, God. Thank you for your most wonderful gifts. No matter the pain and disappointment of life. In you I am just fine."

I think I shall start building that pile of rocks in the yard to remind me of those rushing rivers God has calmed for me to walk through. Who knows, maybe it'll become the place I can drift to on Christmas days to come.

Bad News

I don't know about you, but I've had about enough of the bad news. Every morning I walk out into the darkness to pick up my subscription to the Dallas Morning News. I bring in the paper, take it out of the bag and the first thing I see is some sensationalist, blaring headline of doom and gloom. Moronically, it is often not even something bad that happened --- but rather just some one's prediction that Texas will lose more jobs, bankruptcies will climb, America will get deeper in debt, etc.

Why is it that the newspapers seem to revel in blaring bad news at us? Do they think this is helpful reporting? We are certain that it is not factual reporting. Just what is the purpose of a newspaper? To influence public opinion? To discourage the masses? To entertain? To threaten?

As you might guess, I'm not one that readily settles for status quo. In my old age, I've learned that the truth isn't usually apparent or even readily accessible. Sometimes it takes a little digging to get under the story that's being told to find out what really is.

There is a great deal of talk about the ailing auto industry. The U.S. auto makers are nearly bankrupt. Auto sales have slumped beyond any one's imagination. That could well be the case. But other things are the case as well. And they are relevant to this story.

There are something like 245 million automobiles in America right now. At the current pace of new vehicle sales, it will take more than 27 years to replace that fleet of vehicles. Now seriously, how many of us expect our current vehicle(s) to last until they are more than 27 years old? Common sense would tell you something is going to have to happen in the auto industry. Pent up demand is being created right now!

Then there are the home building and real estate industries. Sales have slumped. Home values have fallen. (Some would say it's simply a correction in what were unrealistically inflated home prices in the first place!) So that market looks soft. But is it really possible that the home builders have no future?

The U.S. Immigration Service projects that, based on current immigration levels, the population of the U.S. will double in the next 42 years. Just where do you suppose all of these people will live? Surely there is not sufficient housing available to them in the U.S. right now. Demand for housing in the U.S. is arriving on our shores every day!

Finally, let's consider the stock market. Yes, it has lost half its value in the past year or two. We've all lost money ... on paper. Those of us who sold our stocks actually realized those losses in hard dollars - with no chance of getting them back. But of course those of us who haven't sold can reap the benefits if and when the stock goes back up.

Right after the Great Depression, the stock market soared 75% in just a year or two. It has been said that what goes down must go up. It would seem that even a bear market will turn bullish somewhere along the line.

My point here is that the sky is certainly not falling. I'll be the first one to admit that things are difficult and we are in the most dire straits many of us have seen in our lifetimes. However, there is reason to be optimistic about the future. General Motors or Chrysler may disappear from the American landscape. Home builders may go out of business. Existing home sales may languish for a while. And the stock market could take a while to recover. But folks, the evidence is clear. America will still need cars - and someone has to build and sell them. America will still need homes - and someone has to build and sell them. And American companies will still need to be owned by someone.

Let's try to overlook the blaring noise from the foolish news media these days. While they may be reporting the news, they are clearly not telling us the whole story!