A LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

ece1dea2d686c23fc125b9478c977633

ART & INSPIRATION FROM PAUL & KATHY BOECHER©

A frail man, not more than thirty, huddles in the corner of a freight car to keep himself warm.  He nibbles on the remnants of a discarded sandwich from the trash at the local burger shop.  To him, it’s a Christmas feast. He’s alone and unaware of where he is.  In a dark place physically as well as mentally.  He thinks back to Christmases past, when he had a home, a family, a life.  Now that was gone – swept away by the need to escape reality.  What could’ve been a successful life, turned sour.  Out of money, alone and lost, he became a feral man without a home.  He couldn’t let his thoughts go there.  It was too painful. So he finishes the last bite – rubs his hands together to create enough friction to warm them – closes his eyes and sleeps to try and forget everything.

An elderly woman walks the street looking for aluminum cans she can redeem for cash.  Maybe only a few cents, but enough to get her through the next day.  Her fingers have grown dark from frostbite.  Her hair hasn’t been washed for months.  Her face is wrinkled and molded into a mask of despair.  Yet, she carries on.  She recalls the night she was dumpster diving and found a fifty dollar bill.  It was like winning the lottery.  She spent every cent of it the minute the liquor store opened the next day.  Her days were drawing to a close.  Things weren’t right for quite a while now.  She had trouble remembering things and often got confused about where she was.  She thinks about the three children she raised – the husband who loved her, but couldn’t live with a drunk.  Soon those memories were cloudy and dim.  She had a habit of erasing things that made her sad.  She simply didn’t think of them anymore.  She pushed the grocery cart down the empty street until she came to a bridge.  She’d been over this bridge many times and sometimes even stopped to watch the trains as they switched tracks below.  The sounds were inviting.  The clanking of metal against metal sounded like church bells in her mind.  Maybe she could find rest … finally.

A young girl of fourteen also roamed the streets that night.  Her anger with her family caused her to run away.  She couldn’t take it anymore.  The fighting, the accusations, the unbelief and lack of trust.  It just wasn’t fair.  She didn’t need them.  She could find her own way.  She felt she could make it on her own, but she didn’t have a job, no money and no where to go.  She made her way to the steps of the church. The door was opened wide, even though snow was falling and the wind was picking up. She made her way into the building and could hear the sound of music and voices singing.  It reached right to the center of her heart.  It was Christmas Eve and the choir was preparing for the candle light evening service.  She sat in the last pew and listened, recalling her childhood Christmases.  Things were so different then. Her parents didn’t argue then.  They spent time with her and loved her without question.  What happened?  Was it her fault?  Was it theirs?  She stared at the figure of Mary and the baby, Jesus.  It was only stone and paint, but there was something about it that made her feel safe.

It was a late.  The streets were empty, but there was the chatter of conversation and laughter coming from within the buildings.  The sky was cloudless and every star was shining brightly.  The air was crisp and the wind chilled the young pregnant woman.  She felt a twinge of pain and wondered if it was the beginning of labor pains.

There was no room for the young couple.  The man led her to a cave behind the inn, which housed the animals.  There were cows, sheep, and other livestock.  It was the only place for them to stay.  He lifted her off the donkey which had carried her for more than a hundred miles.  He tried to assure her that everything would be all right, but it was so hard to understand – so hard to be strong.  The child to be born was the Son of God, conceived by the Holy Spirit.  No one believed the story.  He even had his doubts until an angel explained it all to him.

His heart was heavy.  Here was his espoused wife, ready to deliver her first child, and she had no place to rest her head.  He held her in his arms as she struggled with each contraction.  He prayed the child would be born soon and without incident.  He wasn’t prepared for any of this, yet he believed that God had a plan and wouldn’t leave either one of them.

At last the child was born – perfect in every way.  She wrapped Him in strips of cloth and laid him in th e feeding trough.  As the stars gleamed above, one brighter than all the rest shone with a brilliance neither of them had ever seen.  A host of angels appeared and praised this little one who had come to save the world.

He looked like any other baby.  He was just an ordinary child, but there really was nothing ordinary about Him.  He’d left His heavenly throne to become one of us.  Emmanuel – God with us.  This boy would take away the sins of the entire world – past, present and future.  His hand would heal the suffering – His words would calm the depressed and anxious – His love would cover all wrongs and carry them to a wooden cross in thirty three short years.

In that lowly manger, lay the Prince of Peace, the King of Kings, Mighty Counselor and Savior of the world

Don’t run from Him. He has chosen you and me to be part of His kingdom.  We have already been made His heirs.  No matter how difficult things are – no matter how bleak things look – no matter how hopeless life seems – He’s already chosen you and now He is waiting for you to come to Him.  He has a room reserved for you.

Advertisements

About atimetoshare.me

As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
This entry was posted in Advent, art, DAILY CHRISTIAN DEVOTION, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s