"Jesus, If You're Real..."
Cindy clicked on the light in the apartment hallway. Crystal clung to her shoulder like a little rag doll.
The evening with Sandy and Barb at the Advent service had been just what she had hoped for her child. Lots of colour, music, happy faces, and those wonderful stained glass windows all around.
At the coffee shop afterward, Crystal had chattered non-stop about the friendly kids, the little craft project and the story of the shepherds. Down in the parking lot they had thanked their new friends profusely for the outing.
Quick the unravelling. Quick the don of nighty. And with the good night kiss, the moaning, mumbled words: "Mom, I wish it wasn't over." Lights out.
Cindy settled in the big arm chair in the living room. Shoes kicked off. Lights on the little three foot "snow covered" Christmas tree. All else silent but the echoes of festive hymns registering in her memory.
And then Barb's comment about the Christ being "born in us" for the asking. Was it all just sentimentalism? Had she been too tired from work to receive the evening in a balanced way? She couldn't shake the fascination.
In the silence of her litle apartment, she began to have the impression that someone was listening.
Her thoughts shifted to the Bible reading, which the elderly gentleman, the retired teacher, had shared:
"For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this."
How incredible! This baby...Mighty God, Prince of peace, David's throne. For so many years, out of the church, the whole season had been a blur of Bing Crosby, Charles Dickens, coffee shop windows, harried shoppers and a continued sense of missing the big event.
But tonight she had met a few people who were honestly and evidently in love with Jesus as a present fact and friend. Alone in her living room, but still sensing a Listener, she began to cry quietly and without tears.
"Jesus, if you're real, would you please come to me, help me, forgive me for ignoring you. Get us through this battle."
Real business was in process. New life was flickering...