In Galatians 6:9, we read: “And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart."
After Christmas blahs
Family Drug Store
Saturday, 7:30 p.m.
The blare of the Greyhound bus grabbed my attention. A man and woman exited the bus clutching shopping bags loaded with Christmas finery. Heads bowed, they struggled to our drugstore to find relief from January’s arctic blast.
Daddy grabbed the door, holding it for them. “Can I help you folks?”
“We need to reach my sister’s home. Couldn’t make Christmas. Family illness.” The man gave the name and area. “Any taxi available?"
“Afraid not but I know the place. Need to close up, then I’ll be glad to drive you.” Their luggage loaded, Daddy drove miles out of town, then turned onto a dirt lane poxed with potholes. The headlights splashed a ditch bank thick with Chinaberry trees, scrub oak, and tangled honeysuckle vines. At the end of the lane the lights spotlighted a small unpainted house, porch sagging, steps holding on for dear life.
A woman opened the door, a young girl peeping around her. Faces shone with joy when they saw family members. At their insistence we joined them. The front room acted as living room, dining room and kitchen. Newspapers covered the walls. A metal trash burner provided cooking surface and heat. A bright afghan disguised a dilapidated sofa and three mismatched chairs surrounded the kitchen table pushed against the wall.
The girl was about my age of ten. Her blond pigtails hung to her waist and dimples flashed when she smiled.
After the family hugs and greetings, the woman said, “Honey, show them what Santa brought you." She ran into the other room, swallowed by the darkness, returned her face beaming. She held up a hanger displaying a little yellow sweater with pearl buttons down the front.
Many years have passed. I don’t remember one of my gifts that Christmas but I remember Honey and her little yellow sweater. I thought we did the couple a favor by taking them to family but I received so much more. I saw a family who loved enough to come and a little girl who gave me a gift--a lesson in joy when we don’t lose heart.
Kingdom Thinking. The Lord Jesus became The Gift for me--joy, mercy, grace and kindness but especially the gift of eternal life. He loves me and promises never to leave me. He offers the same gift to you. Himself. In all His glory. Won’t you receive Him?
After Christmas blahs
Family Drug Store
Saturday, 7:30 p.m.
The blare of the Greyhound bus grabbed my attention. A man and woman exited the bus clutching shopping bags loaded with Christmas finery. Heads bowed, they struggled to our drugstore to find relief from January’s arctic blast.
Daddy grabbed the door, holding it for them. “Can I help you folks?”
“We need to reach my sister’s home. Couldn’t make Christmas. Family illness.” The man gave the name and area. “Any taxi available?"
“Afraid not but I know the place. Need to close up, then I’ll be glad to drive you.” Their luggage loaded, Daddy drove miles out of town, then turned onto a dirt lane poxed with potholes. The headlights splashed a ditch bank thick with Chinaberry trees, scrub oak, and tangled honeysuckle vines. At the end of the lane the lights spotlighted a small unpainted house, porch sagging, steps holding on for dear life.
A woman opened the door, a young girl peeping around her. Faces shone with joy when they saw family members. At their insistence we joined them. The front room acted as living room, dining room and kitchen. Newspapers covered the walls. A metal trash burner provided cooking surface and heat. A bright afghan disguised a dilapidated sofa and three mismatched chairs surrounded the kitchen table pushed against the wall.
The girl was about my age of ten. Her blond pigtails hung to her waist and dimples flashed when she smiled.
After the family hugs and greetings, the woman said, “Honey, show them what Santa brought you." She ran into the other room, swallowed by the darkness, returned her face beaming. She held up a hanger displaying a little yellow sweater with pearl buttons down the front.
Many years have passed. I don’t remember one of my gifts that Christmas but I remember Honey and her little yellow sweater. I thought we did the couple a favor by taking them to family but I received so much more. I saw a family who loved enough to come and a little girl who gave me a gift--a lesson in joy when we don’t lose heart.
Kingdom Thinking. The Lord Jesus became The Gift for me--joy, mercy, grace and kindness but especially the gift of eternal life. He loves me and promises never to leave me. He offers the same gift to you. Himself. In all His glory. Won’t you receive Him?
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