Then, a week before Christmas, a job change forced us to uproot from everything familiar. My wife and I, along with our three teens, crammed into the minivan. Sandwiched among luggage, bags of dirty laundry and an assortment of sodas, cheese and chips for on-the-road lunches -- we made our way westward. The rhythmic thump-thump-thump of tires slapping across asphalt and the monotonous engine hum stretched six hours each day into what seemed a dozen. We thought the journey would never end until, with frayed nerves, we pulled into San Diego.
Under different circumstances, San Diego might be an exciting place to pull into. However, two days before Christmas, a city of more than a million strangers was not my idea of a great place to spend the holiday. It's probably a good thing none of us knew things were about to take a turn for the worse.
I awakened the next morning with a deep, wall-rattling cough. By noon my temperature hit 101. It hovered at 103 on Christmas day. Bundled under blankets, alternately shivering and perspiring, I did not feel "joyful, joyful." Instead, I felt somewhat guilty for not acting "spiritual" and thanking God for all things -- even the flu . But I was too sore and too tired to mumble much more than a woeful, "why me, Lord?"
Well, so much for evidence of my spiritual maturity.
In my quarter-century walk with the Lord, God has often used difficult circumstances to teach me -- sometimes re-teach me -- important spiritual principles. Christmas 1997 was no different.
As I lay in bed, lamenting my fate and listening to my wife read aloud from Luke's account of the Christmas story, I noticed a strange similarity between my Christmas and the first Season of two thousand years ago. The spiritual nugget hidden in both is worth reliving.
The journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem would have been difficult enough under the best of conditions. First century travelers did not enjoy asphalt highways, restaurants every few exits and cellular phones in their donkeys' saddlebags. For Joseph and Mary, that trip undoubtedly was not at the top of their list of fun things to do. Their baby was due anytime and, like most parents, they expected to give birth surrounded by friends and family. But a governmental order changed everyone's
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Richard Maffeo's Protestantism topic, please visit the Discussions page.