Tommy's Christmas

 

Well, are we all getting excited yet?  It’s almost Christmas!!

I’m glad so many of you enjoyed the “Cockroach Christmas” story.  Fortunately, all our ‘goofs’ in the Japanese language weren’t so eventful

In fact, soon after we arrived, Tony came across a simple story in my grandmother’s Guidepost magazine that she’d so kindly tucked into our luggage for the ‘hard days'.  It was simple enough that Tony felt he could tell it in Japanese, and the story was a great success.  So much so that besides being “Santa” for numerous Church kindergartens every year, he began to have a reputation for the simple “Tommy’s Christmas” sermon.  Always a hit on the cold and dark winter nights of Christmas in Japan.

So here’s the story.  I can almost repeat it in both languages:

"It was Christmas Eve, and I was trying to write my Christmas sermon for the Children's home where our family lived and worked.  Even though my heart was happy and filled with love, the words were not coming to me.  

As I sat there with my head in my hands, exasperated that I had nothing, there was a knock on the door and one of our carers opened it quietly with the apology, “Sorry Pastor, I know you’re busy, but it’s Tommy”…

Tommy was perhaps our most traumatized child, always shirking in fear and sadness.  He had reason for this behavior, but now he was safe and we were all struggling to help him know it.

I arrived at his room, and as I suspected, he was hiding under his bed again.

The conversation went something like this, 

“Tommy?”

Silence

“Tommy, I know you’re under there, what’s happening?”

Again, Silence

I bent over and looked, and back toward the wall, I could only see the proverbially gleaming two eyes.  They seemed to be full of tears.

“Tommy, what don’t you come out and play, we’re about to have cake!”

Silence

“And there will be games……….and later on, even presents!”  I exuded with feigned enthusiasm, still inwardly wondering what I would say in the pulpit the next day.

Still nothing.

Finally, at wits end, I dropped to my knees and crawled under the bed.

“Tommy,” I said quietly, "I know it’s scary out there, but if you’ll take my hand, we can face it together.”

It was quiet for a long time, then almost imperceptibly, I felt a tiny hand reach for mine.  

We lay there for while, saying nothing. Just enjoying the closeness. “What do you say, Tommy? Shall we join the rest?”

And we did, but slowly, sliding out from under the bed and into the light. There was no hurry; I had my sermon. 

Just like Tommy, under that bed, the world also huddled in darkness. Frightened, without peace, and with no way out that we could understand. God called to us from Heaven, but we couldn’t hear. He sent His prophets, but we ignored them. Finally, God Himself came into the darkness to rescue us. 

And today, like Tommy, as we reach out, we too will feel His strong Hand. We will learn of His love, and we will go with Him, out of the darkness, into the light. This is what God’s love is all about. 

This is what Christmas is all about.

“Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.” (Matthew 1:23)