A Last Minute Birthday Card

It was beginning to get dark as Chris pulled into the Kroger parking lot. As we ran in to get William's card and gift I thought to myself kind of laughing, "We are the worst parents ever. It's 5:00 on the night of his birthday and we haven't picked out a card or anything." 

Chris went to get the cash as I headed for the cards knowing I didn't have nearly enough time to find the perfect one--especially as I passed the check out lines all 5 or 6 people deep. As I rushed to the card aisle I dodged an elderly gentleman as effortlessly as Caroline had just taken it to the hoop in her basketball game. But then I heard him, "Excuse me miss, do you know if they have any anniversary cards here?"

I stopped and looked at him, "Yes they do. Let me show you." I led him to the section with anniversary cards, and I admit I thought to myself, "It's a whole row, how did you miss it?" He looked at me and said, "Thank you; it's my 62nd anniversary tomorrow and I need to get a card for my wife."

I hurried down the aisle and started pulling cards out to read, no judgment from me--I was buying a card at the last minute too. The clock was ticking and I needed to find the perfect one for his 18th birthday--you know the one that didn't say, "I stopped at Kroger 3 hours before dinner to buy you this card."  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the man pulling cards out from the section titled "for your husband;" he was moving very slowly and having a hard time opening the cards. I hesitated; I really had no time, but I was drawn back down the aisle.

"Sir," I said, "Those are for a husband. Come down here and you'll find ones for your wife." We slowly walked down the aisle. "Did I tell you we've been married 62 years tomorrow?" he asked. "Yes you did say that. Are y'all going to do something special?" Suddenly I looked and saw why he was having a hard time reading the cards; there were tears in his eyes.

"Well my wife is in the hospital. She has been for 3 weeks." This is that moment when I always wonder what to say, but I didn't wonder for long. "I'd like to pray for her; I'll pray she gets home tomorrow for your anniversary."  I said. "What's her name?"

"Her name is Sue. I don't think she'll get home tomorrow. I'm not sure she'll ever come home again, but thank you for praying. We can use all the prayers we can get." I then told him I was a priest and asked permission to put her on the prayer list. He thanked me again and I hustled down the aisle still needing that card for William.

The gentleman looked down the aisle and quietly said, "Can I tell you something?" I walked back down and said, "Yes, please." He looked at me and said, "A gentleman that worked for me for 25 years had a massive heart attack and died on Friday. You know what he used to say about my wife? He used to say, 'She's a lady for all the ladies.' Don't you think that's the nicest compliment anyone could ever give you?" Now I was struggling not to cry, "It is indeed I said. She must be incredibly special and so lucky to have a husband like you."

This one will be just fine

He put the card he had chosen in his cart, turned, looked at me and said, "I'm definitely the lucky one. Thank you for praying." And he headed to checkout.

Chris and I paid for the card in the now nonexistent lines. As we walked out, I saw the gentleman checking out. "Happy Anniversary." I quietly said. He smiled and left the store.

Sometimes a birthday card bought at the last minute is perfect timing.

Polishing Silver

I woke up this morning remembering I needed to polish the silver--

and boy did it need it! (Good thing I love polishing silver almost as much as I love ironing...) I looked at it probably at its worst; I've never gone this long without polishing. As I reached under the sink and realized I only had a 1/4 of a bottle of silver polish left I thought, "I hope this works. I really don't want to go to the store today."

I started polishing and it was so easy. The tarnish with just a little dollop of polish and a little elbow grease just disappeared. The tears started (you saw that coming right?); I remembered back when the children were babies and I felt so overwhelmed and someone said to me, "Just get up and shower every morning. Put on a little makeup and you'll feel better." And it worked.

But as I was polishing and remembering I thought, "You know life isn't really like that.' I thought about this past year and all the pain I personally knew, all the pain that has been shared with me, and all the pain there is in the world. "Yeah you can polish it up, put on a happy face, but that doesn't really change what's inside," I bitterly thought,  "A little silver polish, a little lipstick can't fix broken hearts, can't erase shame, can't take away loneliness and fear; can't erase people sitting by the bedside of dying loved ones, it can't create jobs where there are none, take away diagnosis; it can't make everything perfect."

I kept polishing which was getting really hard because the tears were coming fast and hard. And then another thought came to me. I thought about all the hands that had touched this silver and I wondered about the stories the silver could tell if it could talk. Stories of dinners full of laughter and cheer, stories of dinners where there were tears, angry words and probably a child or two running from the table. I thought about the number of times I had set the table and the people who had gathered around--some no longer alive but still deeply loved and missed. I thought about the people who have joined our family through marriage, friendship and love and whose hands would use them tonight. And I thought about the coming Christ child.

Polishing that silver didn't change it had been tarnished; polishing the silver didn't change the past, and polishing that silver this morning wouldn't keep it from getting tarnished again, but polishing the silver reminded me that God can and does make all things new over and over and over. There is nothing so deep and dark about any of us that God doesn't know. And God loves us anyway. God continues to love us regardless of how many times we believe our lives are too stained.

The Christ child entered this world which was and is broken and dark. The Christ child came despite all that and because of that, and when we embrace that love we are made shiny and new through the eyes of God.

As I was finishing I looked at my hands covered with polish and tarnish, and I laughed. The silver didn't polish itself; it needed my hands. God invites us to be God's hands in the world. Our hands can't erase people's pain, but it can embrace it. Our hands holding someone else's, pulling a blanket up on the shoulders of sleeping person, embracing one another, feeding one another, and folded in prayer are reminders that God is present and active, and that God can and will make all things new as many times as it takes--over and over and over.

Tonight as we celebrate the gift of God's love which came in the flesh, may we embrace it for ourselves and then use our hands to share it with the world.

Merry Christmas!