Malcolm Dykes: Was a Fragile Christmas

Funny how memories creep back up from your subconscious mind but they do as this one did this predawn morn.

I was just a toddler, maybe 4 or 5, and my dad was the pastor of the small family church called Talley's Chapel near Sun LA.

It was Christmas time and as was the custom of the congregation we were having a Christmas party right there in the sanctuary.

Every man brought a man gift and every lady a woman gift and every little girl was given a girl gift and us boys a boy gift.

Each person as a result received a gift according to their gender and age.

I don't remember what I was handed but I do remember the girls were handed a delicate glass figurine filled with perfume.

In admiring her gift, one little girl accidentally dropped hers and it fell on the floor and broke, spilling its nice smelling contents.

I can still hear her cry.

Some of the adults rushed to her side trying to comfort her and even made an appeal for money to be given to her but it was to no avail, her delicate glass figurine was broken as was her little heart.

It was a fragile Christmas for the little girl.
 

As I mulled over that scene so many years ago, almost seventy now, I was made to remember not everyone will have a merry Christmas because some tragedy has struck.

Someone will get laid off from their job unexpectedly with no recourse.

The doctor's report will send cold chills over another as they sit in that office in disbelief.

A loved one will come up missing as the authorities rush to try and find clues.

A military chaplain will drive up to somebody's house and knock on somebody's door to tell them their child will not be coming home.

Like that little girl so long ago, it will be a fragile Christmas.

For many years I have managed fitness centers for the troops abroad in war zones and became a father figure to all.

I would watch them come into those gyms and stretch and strain to stay battle strong.

I saw young soldier girls lift weights I could only dream about lifting and run on treadmills for an hour or more.

With sweat pouring and reddened face they and their male counterparts tried to get physically fit to go out and fight for freedom's cause.

But at times some would come to me broken-hearted all muscled up and fit for duty and as tears fell from their eyes ask me for prayer and consolation as they had just heard grandma had died or mom was diagnosed with cancer.

Because you see, no matter how hard we try to be strong, how easy we break.

Like that little girl's glass figurine.

Like these pretty Christmas ornaments, pretty but so easy to break.

I don't know who I am talking to this morning, maybe I am just prefacing my own delimmia.

But if you are one, who like that little girl so long ago, I send this out to you.

The Good Lord did not form us in our mother's womb and let us be born without a backup plan for breakage.

"Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: 

Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." 1 Peter 5: 6-7
 

One translation says, "Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you."

No matter how you feel this morning, it's going to get better.

Because the one who hung the stars last night and called them all out by name cares for you.

Even if it is a fragile Christmas right now.

God bless you and God bless America.