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I suppose I have always been drawn to cars

One of my earliest memories is a day which took place when I was only 3 or 4. My dad had brought the family car-a 1951 Chevrolet-into his workshop. He had removed the generator and placed himself with his back to the car as he worked at the workbench. I found myself piddling around the shop. I guess I figured I should be doing something more than just wandering. So I, in my three year old voice, simply said “I help daddy�. “Sure son�, he said without turning around. In a moment he began to hear water running. When he realized the flow was not ending, he turned to see what was happening. In my desire to “help daddy� I had taken a long cabinet screwdriver, inserted it through the grill into the radiator and pulled down on it—not once, but five or six times! There was water everywhere. Furious, he dropped his tools scooped me up, and while shaking me a good one, carried me into the house where he plopped me on the sofa. In the sternest voice I have ever heard he said, “boy, don’t you move from that spot.� And back to the garage he went. I was crushed.

After waiting just as long as I could (looking back it was probably less than five minutes), and fearing I may spend the rest of my life on that sofa, I eased down and out the back door to the garage. Once again, my dad had his back to me. I stood there petrified, not knowing whether to proceed to my dad or run back to the sofa. And then it happened. He turned and saw me. I wanted to run. I wanted to crawl under a rock. But I froze. As I looked into his eyes, the only response I could muster was, “I sorry daddy, I sorry.� What happened next is imbedded in my heart forever. I found those same arms that had just scolded and corrected me, were now wrapped all the way around my body and lifting me off the ground. Those strong correcting arms now pulled me close as my dad gave me a hug filled with love and compassion. As he held me, I could feel his cheek next to mine. My heart was pounding out of my chest and the anxiousness was broken when I heard him tenderly say, “it’s ok buddy, we’ll fix it.� There it was; my first experience of forgiveness. Brokenness covered by love.

To me, this is the Christmas story. Too often we live our lives by telling our heavenly Father we will “help daddy.� We live things our way, convinced we know best only to find things are broken. There is within us a sense of hopelessness. But God, in His love and mercy, has accomplished for us what we could never accomplish for ourselves. As we bring to Him our brokenness; as we offer it to Him in surrender, we can hear Him say “it’s ok my child, we’ll fix it.� Then He does for us what we can never do for ourselves—gives salvation through forgiveness of sin. He picks up the pieces and gives new life marked by hope and promise. Sometimes we think we’ve made such a mess of our lives that God could never want a relationship with us again. Nothing could be further from the truth. Like the wise old pastor has said, “you have never done anything which would cause God to love you less, nor can you do anything which would cause Him to love you more.� He loves you. Period. Christmas is the proof. Jesus is the promise. Won’t you take time this Christmas to renew that relationship? Celebrate His love and worship Him anew?

 

Matthew 1:23 "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel"--which means, "God with us."

Romans 8:32 “If God is for us, who can ever be against us? Since God did not spare even His own Son but gave Him up for us all, won't God, who gave us Christ, also give us everything else?"

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