Two Little Christmas Stories

I know – Christmas is over. But everyone always wishes Christmas would last longer and these two little stories have been running around in my brain so I thought I’d share them with you.

The Angel on Capitol Way.

I was coming home from work on Capitol Way in downtown Olympia. It was dusk and the sun was setting right in front of me. Fortunately, there weren’t a lot of cars on the road. As I headed up Capitol the sun was right in my eyes and everything on the road was swept into a silhouette. One of those times when you can’t look straight ahead; you can only look down or to the side. Just black silhouetted buildings and cars parked on the side of the road.

And there in the street up ahead of me was an angel. Wings moving up and down as it darted right and then left. I couldn’t quite look at it because the sun was blinding. I was already driving slowly but I drove even slower while I hastily grabbed the sun visor and pulled it down.

The whole thing took no longer than a few seconds. Then the sun shifted out of my eyes and I could see again. The angel was one of the street people on a bicycle riding down the center of the street, weaving back and forth like a little dance. He wore a backpack and his wings was his coat, threaded through the straps of his backpack and spilling out on either side. As he swerved his bike into S’s on the asphalt the coat lifted and fluttered like wings.

To be honest, the street people scare me. They can seem threatening and unpredictable. But oh, how God sees them. They are His precious ones as surely as you and I are.

It was the shepherds who first glimpsed the newborn Jesus. Dirty, smelly, crude, unwashed shepherds. Perhaps with their own wings.

On that night, a few weeks ago, right before Christmas, God gave me a little glimpse of what He sees, not just in shepherds but in street people and in all of us.

Hebrews 13:2 Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.

The Wrong Way

The Sunday before Christmas as we settled into our pews, the back doors of the sanctuary opened and in walked the preschoolers in their little white robes and dollar store angel wings. They marched down the aisle and up the steps in front of the stage.

Our sanctuary has three sections that narrow towards the front and gets wider in the back like a fan or sea shell. An aisle runs down the center and one on each side. We were sitting in the back at the end of one of those aisles – not the main one but a side one so we had a full view of the kids.

They sang their Christmas song. Most just stared wide-eyed at the congregation in terror while others moved their hands and made other gestures they had been taught to the music. A few were brave enough to sing loud enough to be heard.

When it was over, the children stepped off the stairs and hurried back down the aisle to their parents. One little boy barreled down our aisle right towards us. As he got to the end he realized that we were not his parents as he had expected.

Very loudly he shouted, “I went the wrong way!”

The whole congregation chuckled as he looked to the right and left until he saw his parents, one aisle over. He hooked a sharp right turn and ran to his parents as fast as he could. And in case they hadn’t heard him, he repeated at full volume once more, “I went the wrong way!”

Luke chapter 15 tells the story of the prodigal son; a young man who demanded his inheritance then ran away from home. He lost everything. One day, he came to his senses and declared “I went the wrong way!”

Luke 15:20 says, “So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”

Whether we’re 4 or 40 the road home begins with declaring “I went the wrong way.” And our Heavenly Father waits for us.

May the love and wonder of Christmas follow you until next Christmas comes around.