Covid Christmas

 Last week my wife baked cookies, brownies and snacks for our neighbors. We both donned our masks and walked down the street distributing bags of Christmas goodies to our friends, a token of our love and appreciation for them during this Covid year of 2020. 

 One of our neighbor families is Vietnamese. They have a bright and cheerful nine-year-old daughter, Anna who loves to play with our grandchildren. When we took our Christmas goodies to her house, Anna greeted us at the door. Her mother doesn’t speak English.  The following day, Anna rang our doorbell with a gift bag of her own.  Inside she placed a Hershey’s bar, two fun-size Snickers and M&Ms.  We suspect it was her leftover Halloween candy. She was thrilled to give it, and we were touched beyond measure.

 Little acts of kindness help us all get through.  For many this Christmas is especially painful. While we feel some relief with the first vaccines, we recognize that more than 300,000 families lost loved ones to Covid-19 this year.

 Many years ago, I officiated a funeral on Christmas Eve for one of our best friends who was barely twenty-nine. The Holidays are not always joyous.  But the meaning of the day when God sent His Son to save us from our sins is all the more meaningful.

 We all know the stories that led up to the birth: Joseph and Mary on their long journey to Bethlehem, turned away from every inn until they found a stall where the child was born;  the hovering star that led the Magi from the east bearing their prophetic gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The shepherds shocked from their sleep on the hillside by the angels of heaven proclaiming a Savior.  But we pay little attention to what happened “the day after.”

 Like most of us, Mary and Joseph had little time to enjoy the Christmas events that surrounded them.  They were immediately faced with Herod’s efforts to hunt down their Son.  The soldiers fell upon Bethlehem with a vengeance, slaughtering every male child two years old and younger. (Matthew 2:16).  Warned in a dream, Joseph fled with his little family to Egypt where they spent eight years hiding as refugees from Herod’s wrath. 

 Thousands today are living in exile, refugees from war.  In some places believers are spending these days in prison for their faith. Some are facing death because they have embraced Jesus as Son of God and Savior.  Many others have heavy hearts from the loss of loved ones. 

 The full story of Jesus’ birth embraces both the heights of joy and the depths of sorrow.  Whether we are filled with celebration and happiness or thrown into heartache and despair, God is sufficient.  He has been there. He knows our joy and our sorrow, and He has given His Son that we might know Him. 

The Christmas Journey

 Normally, Christmas is a family event.  Brothers, sisters, parents and children go to great expense to see each other.  They drive hundreds of miles, fly across the continent or around the world to celebrate the holidays together. But, for many families, like ours, not this year. We have postponed our family gathering until later, when the vaccine has taken effect and it is safer.

 Nevertheless, our tree is decorated with ornaments created by little hands that grew into manhood and womanhood.  Decorations, unboxed from Christmases past, remind us of those we love as we look to a brighter future.

 That first Christmas was a family event with its own difficulties.   When we rehearse the Christmas story, we conjure up images of Joseph trudging along the Jordan valley leading a donkey with Mary balanced on its back, almost full-term in her pregnancy.  A look of admiration and love must have played upon Joseph’s face, mixed with worry.

 Faith, above all, propelled them in their journey in circumstances not of their choosing.  They were on the road at this most inconvenient and vulnerable time because Caesar required it. They were making the arduous journey to Bethlehem so Joseph could enroll for the Roman tax.  Even young couples about to deliver a baby were not excused.

 They did not know the future.  They believed God was in it, but they had no way of knowing where they would sleep, or how they would make their way after the child was born.  Like all fathers, Joseph was concerned about how he would care for his wife and child.  Mary’s thoughts were about the baby that kicked within her. 

 Joseph’s fears would have been multiplied if he had known, while trudging along the stony path, that there would be no place for them to stay, that the child would be born in a common stable. A trough for the animas would serve for a crib. As far as we know, they were alone. But his faith in God sustained him. His hope for the future lifted his face.

 Christmas is like that for us today. We are all on a journey.  Some are more difficult and precarious than others.  Our minds are filled with hopes, dreams, anxiety, worry and faith.  Some have been laid off and are searching for a job. Some are starting their careers, uncertain about what the future might hold. Some have suffered tragedy, pain and loss.  Some are battling illness.  Some are celebrating a new birth. 

 When God sent His Son, He blessed our human experience.  He entered into our journey. When He sent Jesus, he identified with our weaknesses, our fears, our hopes, our dreams and our faith.  He blessed us as families: mothers and fathers loving one another, finding our way, caring for children in challenging circumstances and believing that, somehow, God is in it all.   He will never leave us nor forsake us. He will accomplish His purposes on the earth.

Buddy's Christmas Gift

 If you have been reading these columns, you are familiar with my dog, Buddy.  Buddy came into our lives eleven years ago, a sick and skinny rescue dog picked up off the streets.  When we met him at Corgi Rescue, we could feel the bones in his hips, and he was suffering from “kennel cough.”  But fifteen minutes with Buddy won us over.  We left committed to adopt him.

 It took six weeks for him to get over his kennel cough, put on weight and get all his shots from the vet. I drove back to Corgi Rescue to pick him up and, in a matter of minutes, we were Buddy’s proud, and nervous owners.  He was nervous too.  It took a couple of weeks to adjust.  Eleven years later the vet says he is a “healthy geriatric.”  So am I.

 It was a mystery to me how a tri-color corgi as intelligent, well-mannered and affectionate as Buddy could become a stray on the streets. Then, one day, on one of our neighborhood walks, Buddy told me his story.  I wrote it down, “just as Buddy told it to me.”  It became a children’s book published on Amazon Kindle, Buddy the Floppy Ear Corgi.

 I printed out a copy for our next door neighbor whose daughter was in the third grade.  He read it to his daughter and she took it to school.  The teacher read it to her third grade class. “One boy cried,” she said. 

 Apparently Buddy had this problem when he was young, a floppy ear that proved to be an embarrassment.  All the other respectable corgis had ears that stood up straight and alert, except for Buddy. So, he ran away and became lost on the streets where Barney the Bloodhound befriended him and taught him how to survive. That is, until they were picked up by the dog police.

 Along the way, Buddy learned to love himself and others just the way God made them.  It is a good lesson for all of us to learn.  He also learned the importance of being rescued.  Sometimes we all need to be rescued by someone.  Sometimes we all need to rescue someone else, just like the Good Samaritan story in Luke 10.

 This year, Buddy wants to make his book available for free as a Christmas gift to all of our readers.  Just click on Buddy's picture to the right and download it as a free eBook anytime, December 9-13.  Feel free to forward this to friends so they can have one too! It will make Buddy happy. 

 Buddy is now thirteen years old a little slower and a little fatter.  Our walks are shorter, basically to the mailbox and back.  He never meets a stranger.  It’s something I think he learned from Barney.  His ear doesn’t flop anymore, but he still has a small scar on his nose, a reminder of his “lost days” on the streets in the city. 

 Buddy and I both hope you have a very Merry and safe Christmas.

Flying in Formation

 Recently I started the day outside on our deck under a clear pre-dawn sky. The stars were brilliant, Orion settling in the west.  A meteorite streaked across the sky just before the east began to fade into gray. No sooner had the crimson and gold dissolved into the soft pastels of morning than the geese began to fly.     

 I heard them honking in the distance and watched as a long line winged their way to the west, silhouetted against the dawn.  They continued to come, hundreds, perhaps thousands of Canada geese in small and large groups, sometimes stretching from one horizon to the other.  They flew in imperfect V formations, sometimes in long diagonal lines, one behind the other, wingtip to wingtip.  One squadron flew low overhead, so close I could hear the wind in their wings. I suppose they were flying to the fields near the foothills to feed.  

 The beauty of migrating geese is one of the things I love about Colorado.  Who taught them to fly in formation?  Scientists who study this phenomenon say the V formation reduces drag and adds lift for each goose.  By flying together in this way, they increase their range by 71%.  And, since the lead birds put forth the greatest effort, they rotate the lead position.

 They don’t do this because of any legislation or decree.  They are not obeying anyone’s order. They do it because it is their nature to do it. They fly this way because they have learned over many millennia that they need one another for survival.  Life is easier when they fly in formation. 

,Watching the geese at sunrise reminded me of the unique global challenges we all face, including the Covid pandemic, poverty and famine.  To survive and thrive we need to fly in formation. Not because our elected officials tell us to, but because we need each other.  During Covid, that means wearing a mask, washing our hands, remaining six feet apart.  During and after Covid, it means providing for the poor, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick, opening doors of opportunity for the underprivileged.

 The Bible consistently teaches us the importance of “flying in formation.”  John the Baptist who introduced Jesus said, “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same” (Luke 3:11).  

Jesus said, “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. … Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:35-40). 

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Do nothing out of selfishness or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests, but each of you looking to the interests of others” (P9hilippians 2:3-4).

The Long Dark Winter

 They say we are in for a long dark winter.  Covid cases are surging out of control.  Many states are breaking records and the U.S. single day case count exceeded 180,000 on November 13.  It has been a long, difficult and wearisome journey since the first U.S. Covid-19 case appeared on January 21 in Seattle, Washington. 

 We weathered the lock-down in March, huddling in our houses, shutting down non-essential businesses, shuttering restaurants and shops.  We howled at dusk in our neighborhoods, a good-natured national protest against the virus.  And we did it.  We lowered the infection rate, survived the spring and earned a slight reprise from the restrictions in summer. 

 The bicycle business boomed as people took to streets and trails for natural distancing, fresh air and exercise.  I pulled my 27-year-old Giant bike out of storage; the same one I rode across Wisconsin in 1997.  It took 6 weeks for an appointment to have it tuned up, but I put over 400 miles on it and dropped 25 lbs. of excess weight.

 We walked our dogs and greeted neighbors who were walking theirs.  We attended church outside, setting up our lawn chairs under shade trees on green lawns where small children played in the grass.  The NBA played basketball in a bubble. Major League baseball completed an abbreviated season with empty stadiums and professional golfers competed without patrons. For the first time we watched the Masters with fall foliage.

 Many returned to work. Schools cautiously opened for students. Some ignored the Covid restrictions altogether and rode their Harleys to the Sturgis motorcycle rally.    But, as many of the epidemiological experts had predicted, fall and winter weather has resulted in an uncontrolled surge in Covid cases.  Increasingly we are hearing of people we know who have fallen prey to Covid.

 The most painful period of the pandemic is immediately in front of us.  We are faced with foregoing our most cherished American traditions: gatherings as family around Thanksgiving and Christmas tables; packing churches to hear children sing as shepherds and angels; The Messiah sing-a-longs.  We can scarcely imagine the echo of holiday music in empty hallways at the mall or virtual worship streamed from empty churches at Christmas.

 But there is hope.  Scientists have identified two vaccines promising 90% and 95% effectiveness against Covid by the end of the year.  The experts predict that we could have wide-spread distribution and “herd immunity” as early as spring or summer of 2021. 

 Now is the time, in this long hard winter, to redouble our efforts to protect our families, our friends and ourselves.  We are like a marathon runner nearing the finish line, weary an exhausted, but determined. The end is in sight.  It is time to sprint to the finish.  We must double-down with the disciplines of distancing, wearing our masks, washing our hands, never failing to encourage one another.

 Jesus set the example for us.  As Hebrews says, “Let us run with perseverance the race that is set out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.  For the joy set before him he endured the cross” (Hebrews 12:1-2).  We can do this.

Lift Up Your Eyes to the Stars

I normally begin my day outdoors where I spend time in prayer.  When winter drops the temps and the sun rises late, I bundle up and find my place on our back deck, under the stars.

 Our deck is on the south side of the house.  Orion and Taurus greet me in the winter sky, easily distinguished among the lesser lights.  They have always been there, occupying their same place in the sky since time immemorial.

 These are the same stars Abraham saw when he left Ur of the Chaldees. The same stars that guided Moses in the wilderness. The same stars David watched when he shepherded sheep. The same stars the Magi studied when they found a star in the east that led them to Bethlehem.  When I look at the stars, I feel connected to the entire universe, no longer limited by time and space. In my fleeting moment on earth I am part of all that has gone before and all that will yet come.

 They are a stabilizing force.  Nothing we can do on earth will change them. The nearest star is approximately 25 trillion miles away, or 4.24 light years.  When the dust has settled from the Presidential election and the pandemic has passed, the stars will remain in their place as they have done through every plague, every war, every natural disaster, and every lifetime.  They are a constant, silent and brilliant testimony to God’s majesty.   

 The Bible has a lot to say about the stars: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them?  Human beings that you care for them?” (Psalm 8:3-4) NIV.

 “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.  He determines the number of the stars; and calls them each by name.  Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit” (Psalm 147:3-5).

 “Praise him sun and moon; praise him all you shining stars. Praise him highest heavens, and you waters above the skies.  Let them praise the name of the Lord, for he commanded and they were created and he established them forever and ever” (Psalm 148:3-6).

 “’To whom then shall you compare me? Or who is my equal?’ says the Holy One. Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these?  He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name.  Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing. … Do you not know? Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” (Isaiah 40:25-26).

 The stars have a way of putting things in perspective. 

Dogs To The Rescue

 When Covid first hit us in February, we thought perhaps it would be short-lived.  As it raged through Europe and set its sights on the U.S., we accepted the “stay-at-home” initiatives, hunkered in our houses, gave up shopping and eating out.  When the NBA cancelled its season, we knew it was serious.  We hoped, tough, that by summer it would be over. 

 Perhaps it was the sacrifices we made in the spring, perhaps it was luck, but Covid seemed to relax its grip and we ventured out.  Sports found a way, with the NBA bubble, golf tournaments without spectators and stadiums mostly empty.  Major league baseball concluded an abbreviated season and delivered a nail-biting World Series.  In some respects, we have learned to live with Covid.

 But, with our guard down, the number of infections has sky-rocketed and we could face more stringent measures going into winter and the holidays.  At least, for many of us, we have our dogs to get us through.

 Dogs are an important part of our neighborhood.  Our young neighbors across the street moved in a year ago with their pet bulldog, Rooney.  They adopted him as a puppy, pure white.  He is now full-grown and built like a bowling ball.  Rooney never meets a stranger. Everybody loves Rooney.  The newlywed couple next door to them just adopted Scout.  I am not sure of Scout’s breed. She is 5 months old and already a big dog, sweet, compliant and happy to have a home.  They treat her like their child. 

 We have a 12-year-old Pembroke Corgi named Buddy.  If you have read this column in the past, you are familiar with Buddy.  When he was younger Buddy went fishing with me in my flat-bottom boat.  The front of the boat was his.  He stood in the front and sniffed the wind to locate the fish.  He was good at it. At least he thought so.  Corgis think they are good at anything.

 Once he leaned too far and sniffed too hard and fell in the lake. Corgis aren’t built for water. Their stubby legs don’t give much traction for swimming. He coughed, sputtered, went under and splashed for all he was worth until I grabbed him and hauled him back into the boat, soaked and shivering.

 It reminded me of Peter’s experience when he stepped out of the fishing boat to meet Jesus on the Sea of Galilee.  I expect Peter was a better swimmer than Buddy, but there he was splashing and floundering around in the sea, helpless. Until Jesus reached out, lifted him up and hauled him back into the boat.

 God has done that for me many times. Across the years I have fallen out of the boat financially, unable to sleep at night, worried about how to make ends meet.  I have sunk over my head in work, overwhelmed by responsibilities and challenges.  I have found myself drowning in grief with the loss of someone I love.  And now Covid, and an uncertain future, seems to be overwhelming us all.

 Every time I have fallen into waters over my head, God has pulled me up and hauled me back into the boat. He is strong enough to save you and He will not let you drown when circumstances threaten to overwhelm you.

 Jesus said, “In the world you have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”  (John 16:33).  “The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you.  He will never leave you nor forsake you. (Deuteronomy 31:8).