THE LETTER

It is the middle of the night.  I have no business being up at this hour.  In just a few hours the alarm will go off, and I’ll move into a day where God needs for me to deliver a word at three consecutive worship services.  But this is a task I have thought about getting done.  Wanted to get done.  (Or at least started…)

So there was a workout at the Y.  Some “tweaking” of the sermon while having coffee at a nearby place downtown.  Time in the church office on a quiet Saturday.  Small chores around the house getting ready for the staff Christmas party.  And always, in the back of my mind, this letter.

So, after running the draft by Sharon, I’ve printed it off.  And now I sit at our dining room table in the middle of the night signing our names, folding each letter, placing them in the envelopes and addressing each one.

As I look down the names I am in the middle of this dancing, swirling, chattering world of people I know and love.  People nearby and people far away.  There is Gladys, who would come into the church on Sunday morning, and say, “This is the day the Lord has made so let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

There is the name of Beverly Mumby who was our next door neighbor when the boys were little.  She and Kenny would welcome the boys in their garden, let them play in their backyard, and invite them over for bonfires.  Kenny is now gone.  His name has been crossed off the list.

My buddy Craig is on the list, along with his wife, Connie.  He is in the hospital.  Fighting for his life.  There is the name of my buddy, Tom, who says the sound of my voice always makes him smile.  There is Elva, now in an Illinois convalescent center, who long ago sang “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” on a Christmas Eve night.  Her voice and friendship have blessed me in ways I can’t describe.  There is my cousin, Pat, who lives out in Oregon.  He and I are like brothers.  We’re too many miles apart.

There are friends I have not seen for too long.

And I realize what I want to do is to see them.  Sit in the same room with them.  Watch their eyes.  Hear their voice.  Even have the luxury of letting silence sit between us.  Walk a trail with them or paddle a river or share a pizza.

The letter is good, but being together in the flesh is far better, you know?

In the middle of the night I realize, again, the miracle and the necessity of the Incarnation.  God has sent us God’s letter.  We call it the Bible.  But at Christmas decided the letter  -as good as it is-  wasn’t enough.  So God shows up in our neighborhood!  I am so glad!

John 1 (The Message) says, “The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.  We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, Generous inside and out, true from start to finish.”

Maybe we, you and I, are God’s letter to the people around us…

Grace always in Christ,

Mark