This week's Theme: Come and Behold Him
Day 1: Seeing and Perceiving
The weeks leading up to Christmas that year were busy and stressful. The nature of my work seldom allowed a balanced schedule, and just then it was particularly hectic. The near-60-hour workweeks were taking a huge toll physically and mentally, and I was looking forward to a “reset” in January.
But I had miles to go before… and on the Saturday before Christmas, I found myself in the unenviable position of having no shopping done. This was, for me, a complete fiasco on many levels. I do not do well with crowds, rush, and frenzy. And I hated hurried, last-minute, sub-optimal purchases born of desperation.
I had always had an approach to Christmas shopping that included months of passive scouting, sale-biding, patient outwaiting. But now I grudgingly resigned myself to my last-minute predicament, and headed out to the nearest mall, a ten-minute drive away.
I headed directly to Macys, knowing that its numerous departments would accommodate much of the wide variety of my list. Through years of school-clothes-and-Christmas-present-shopping, I had become quite adept at bargain-hunting at Macys, but I had little anticipation of any deals on this the last Saturday before Christmas.
To my great amazement, I was ecstatically wrong! In fact, I could hardly choose as I uncovered huge treasure troves of bargains and deals—all of which would make delightful presents for the special people on my list. Hours later, I stumbled into the parking lot—shopping complete, budget still intact.
It wasn’t until I was ready to pull out of the parking space that I heard my cell phone beep. As I fished it out of my bag, I saw the screen light up. Missed call, missed call, missed call…about eight or ten—all from one of my sisters, over several hours. I had had no cell-service all that time, in the bowels of Macys Department Store. (In those days cell phones technology was in its early years, and "dead-zones" were more widespread than they are now.)
I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that something was desperately wrong. Heart and brain racing, I pressed redial. No answer. Again. Still no answer. I tried to figure out what emergency had prompted those “frantic” calls from my sister. And all of a sudden, like a punch in the stomach, I knew! I had the sickening realization that I had neglected to turn off the stove before I left home that morning!
I mentioned how tired and overworked I had been in the preceding weeks. On two separate occasions, I had forgotten to turn the stove off when I should have. The second time it happened, I determined that from then on, I would turn on a kitchen timer each time I used the stove.
That morning, I had decided to make hard-boiled eggs for a salad later. Placing two eggs in a pot, I added water and turned the stove on. Then I carefully and deliberately set the timer. Only now, I couldn’t remember hearing that timer go off. This could only mean I had left the house before it did, with the pot and eggs still on the stove.
I hyperventilated the entire drive back home. And with the holiday traffic, ten minutes turned into thirty. I prayed all the way. “Lord, if You spare my house, I will never complain about one thing in it ever again.”
As I navigated the drive leading to my house, I could hardly keep myself together as the blaring sound of sirens confirmed my worst fears. By now I was visibly shaking.
I came down the slight hill that finally brought me within view of my old, humble, beautiful house, and there it stood, aglow with the timer-activated strings of twinkling Christmas lights Mr. Quick had helped me hang a few weeks earlier. From around the corner the sound of music and blaring sirens drew nearer as the annual neighborhood firetruck-Santa-parade came into full view…
Later that evening, my sister finally called me back: “Whe' yo’ bin?” (Where were you?) she asked in that characteristic big-sisterly “right to know” way.
“You really don’t want to know!” I thought.
Come and Behold Him
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