Lisa Hetzel

Did your calendar come with preprinted holidays? Mine did. When I flipped it to December, I came across an unfamiliar event: December 26, Boxing Day. A little digging and I discovered that it has nothing to do with the sport of boxing. It’s all about giving.

Here’s what I found in an internet resource called Wikipedia: “Boxing Day is a public holiday in the United Kingdom, Canada, New Zealand and Australia and countries in the Commonwealth of Nations with a mainly Christian population. It is based on the tradition of giving gifts to the less fortunate members of society.”

What a neat idea. I know. It sounds just like what we have been doing this past month. Giving trees, canned food barrels and clothing drives have graced our community. I didn’t think that I had anything else to give until this morning, when I heard myself saying, “I don’t know where to put all of this stuff.” My son wasn’t sure that new inventory of toys would fit on his shelves. Later, when I reached for a towel in our linen closet, I was greeted by an avalanche of blankets. Hmmmm….Maybe I could look one more time to see if there’s anything to give.

We live in a land of abundance. Even during these uncertain times, many of us have plenty of stuff and then some. Poverty is not seasonal. It’s a continual need. I’m going to let Boxing Day kick off a new tradition. Each time that I receive a gift or treat, I’m going to see if there’s something that I can donate.

“Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Cor 9:7 NIV)

Lord, thank you for the countless blessings that you’ve bestowed. Teach me how to have a generous heart like yours.

Did you ever mix finger paint together when you were a child? The smooth, slippery concoction would evolve into a beautiful surprise. Brilliant blobs of blues would reach into ruby colored splotches. Swirling them wholeheartedly would reveal unbelievable hues of violet. It was so much fun!

This season, the rubies and emeralds have wrapped our banisters, doorways and dining room centerpieces with holly and ivy. The greens of wreaths remind us of God’s everlasting love. The reds recall His sacrifice on the cross.

If you mix red and green, you’ll get brown. However, this season, when some people see these colors, they’ll feel blue.Among the season of joy, salvation and miracles, there is a quiet sadness.  While busloads of children dive into bows and boxes this Christmas morn, there will be others who will swallow tears.  The range of colors is immense, and the emotions of this Christmas season will be vast.

Some will mourn the loss of a loved one. Some will be completely absorbed in regrets. Many will shake their head in disbelief at mounting debts.  A pool of blue will form as these souls face a choice: loneliness or love?

When you are mixing colors, you keep adding a little bit of one and then the other until you are satisfied. In love, when someone is sad, you can choose to offer comfort, community, guidance, or nothing at all. Without losing who you are, you can add to someone else’s life.  If you are sad, you can choose to ask for help, receive a kind gesture of friendship, lean on God,  or remain in your situation.  With someone to support you, you can rediscover your own strength.

I’ve been fortunate to be in both situations during the holidays: joyful and mournful. It’s easy to forget that others might be having a difficult time when the commercials advertise the sales and the carols play. It’s also easy to forget that I have a responsibility as part of Christ’s command:

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35 NIV)

Lord, please help me be mindful of those who may need me to share a little bit of myself with them this holiday. Show me how to love others like you love us.

“For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” (Ps 91:11 NIV)

Mom has always said that everyone has a guardian angel. Someone continuously prays for you and nudges you to stay close to God. Two weeks ago, Mom’s angel called in the troops.
A malicious stroke tried, in vain, to capture her mind and spirit. Paralysis and loss of speech were not able to squelch Mom’s sense of humor and determination.

Each member of the battalion brought their arsenal to rescue her. Some carried stethoscopes, lab reports and guidance. Others hand delivered warm meals and soothing sponge baths. Silent and unwavering, they surrounded her. They swept the floor beneath her bed, brought fresh linens and monitored the machines that measured each breath. When they spoke, their voices revealed birthplaces from Ethiopia, Hong Kong, India, and the United States. Each warrior tenderly strengthened her.They even sent reinforcements for our family. Hugs, cards and meals flowed. And each afternoon we would join other families who were camped in the waiting room. Gentle warriors rolled in trays of homemade cookies.

So Mom continued to fight. Little things like swallowing water and grabbing a spoon were cause for celebration. Setbacks and complications invited everyone to climb on an emotional rollercoaster. But God’s army kept fighting.

To our amazement, she has been moved to the rehabilitation wing of the hospital. The army of angels has grown. In the military, they refer to these folks as specialists. In this battle, they are commonly known as family, therapists, lab technicians, food service workers, custodians, volunteers, nurses and doctors. The miracle is not just in Mom’s healing. It is in the witness of hundreds of moments of compassion, hope and grace.

No one is immune to life’s tragedies. I feel so blessed that God has drawn people to strengthen us. I only hope that I can serve as a reminder that God is ever present.