'Twas the day before Christmas Eve, and the pastor thought she’d spread some holiday cheer. So she loaded up some Christmas gifts and headed out to the country to make some deliveries. It was raining and lightning and thundering, a strange day for December. The rain was pouring down hard… she turned off the gravel road, to a dirt one.
Pretty soon, she started sliding, the back wheels heading south. She turned on the four-wheel drive. But little did that help. Soon, she was stuck sideways in the road. Hadn’t the GPS said the house was just a little farther?
So she abandoned her vehicle, grabbed her purse, and got out. The mud was quite squishy—it pulled at her shoes. Soon they were caked with so much mud that the pastor didn’t know how she was going to keep walking.
She plodded along, remembering from her childhood how, if you stay in the grass, it will give you better traction and wipe the mud off, all at the same time. Well that worked awhile, until she ran out of grass, and had to walk across the road. She decided to climb up onto a cornfield, littered with broken stalks. That helped some, but there was more mud than anything.
She crisscrossed the road, back and forth, trying to find the best, least wet route. She fell over. She reached out to steady herself, and grabbed a barbed-wire fence, which bit her. How much worse could it get? She thought. How am I to get out of here? There was no house in site… although she kept hoping it would just be over the hill. She began to sing praises and prayers to God—
We fall down, we lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus
The greatness of His mercy and love at the feet of Jesus
And we cry Holy, Holy, Holy
We cry Holy, Holy, Holy
We cry Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lamb
She cried out to the Lord, to help deliver her from this experience. And He reminded her, that this was why He came. To deliver us all… He came as Jesus the baby, born in Bethlehem, after his parents had walked a long, hard journey—just as she was walking, that dreary December day. She thought of Mary and Joseph. She also thought of the wise men, who later made that long journey from the Orient to see the child that was a king.
We fall down, we lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus…
What are the crowns that we must lay at the feet of Jesus? The symbols that make it known to all, how important we are, how powerful we are in this world? One of the most moving scenes from a Christmas program that I can recall was when three grown men, the fathers of the church, paraded down the aisle in flowing garments as wise men. They carried gifts to the infant Jesus, then lifted their jeweled crowns off their heads, placing them at the feet of the manger, bowing in humble respect.
Now I don’t know if the wise men really wore crowns. Some say they were more like scientists than kings. But it makes one wonder: can a king be identified as a king if he’s not wearing his crown? Doesn’t he look just like everyone else? Is a king who lays his crown at the feet of a child who will one day be, for the world, a spiritual King, acknowledging that child’s power, and giving up some of his own? Isn’t that what we all must do, give up some of our own earthly power, and humble ourselves, in order to give Him his rightful place as ruler in our hearts and minds?
We fall down, we lay our crowns, at the feet of Jesus…
At one point, when it seemed all hope was gone, when the pastor’s legs were so tired she didn’t think she could go on, she looked down through fogged-up glasses, and saw two long sticks laying on the ground. In her mind, she heard the 23rd Psalm—“Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” She picked them up. One was sturdy enough to be a walking stick. The other was just a bit smaller. They steadied her, and instead of avoiding the mud, she finally gave into it, shuffling down the road like a cross-country skier.
She remembered how her grandfather, a hunter, a trapper, a miner, a skier, had been caught in a Colorado avalanche a hundred years before, and how he’d made it out alive… how his persistence and God’s saving grace was the reason she was here now, two generations later.
She thought of the people in the Bible who remembered their ancestors and all that God had brought them through, and how that had given them great strength, in their own affliction.
She wondered if her grandfather, buried alive in snow, had called out for his God, for
help… for a way out… for the strength to keep on going. "Just one more step. Carry me, Lord… carry me." And in that moment, she felt compassion for every person who suffered and wondered if, and when, their God would show up, delivering them from a time of great trial.
Finally she saw a gravel road in front of her. The end was in sight… she was almost there. No more sloshing through the mud! When she reached the road, she thanked God over and over. Hallelujah! Praise Your name!
She had faith that someone would drive by and stop to help, for she was pretty certain she had heard cars traveling along. Just a few minutes later, she spotted a truck coming toward her. She waved both her sticks in the air. A man in the pickup stopped and asked if she needed some help. She dropped her sticks by the side of the road, and climbed up into the cab.
On the way back home, she learned he didn’t attend church, hadn’t grown up in church. She told him how she didn’t know how anyone could go through difficulties without having faith that God would be there for them, and would help carry them through whatever came their way. He was a Godsend, she told him. No matter what he believed, she knew that he had come to her that day because of God. And he agreed with her.
There is an old saying, “In traveling in strange areas, it is well to have both a good map and a good guide. The Christian has both; the Bible shows the way; Christ has promised to go with us all the way. He is the Way.”
Amen.
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