The Story of December 26
Ruth Johnson

For just a few weeks each December, many in the world even enjoy songs of the Christ Child being born.  

But by December 26, most quickly forget all mention of God’s Son. It’s as if the weeks of remembering Him no longer have any significant meaning.  

Yet long after the holidays are a distant memory. the Father earnestly wants His children to continue bringing to others the miraculous hope that was made possible by Jesus’ humble birth in Bethlehem. 

When each year is ending there is the encouraging hope a new year always holds for better times ahead.  

In the changing of the seasons that unfold during the latter part of each December, I ponder this compelling message that poignantly puts this annual time of transition into stark focus:

When the song of the angels is stilled
When the star in the sky is gone
When the kings and princes are home
When the shepherds are back with their flocks
The work of Christmas begins
To find the lost
To heal the broken
To feed the empty
To set the captive free
Anonymous

If we live all year long with a keen awareness that on December 26 the work of Christmas has just begun, we are less likely to miss the priceless moments when God can use us to make a difference in another life. 

These people who need us to carry His sincere kindness to them are all around us, silently passing by us every single day.

They are those…

Gripped by sadness over what they have lost that can never come back, grieving over what could have been that is no longer possible. Hurting with so many crushing disappointments they’ve sunk into the hopelessness of despair. Troubled, disillusioned souls feeling empty, with no peace. And no hope that life can ever change or get better.

All around us each passing day are…

Good hearted people in relationships overwhelming them with heartache.

People with no one to be there for them because they are completely alone.

Single moms who go to bed each night hurting for their children.

Young children whose hearts are already broken. Mom and dad are fighting and they feel like their world is being ripped apart.

Old people in convalescent hospitals who will never again be leaving to go back home. Their health has failed. And they wait, alone, day after day for someone to come to be with them, and care about them. But no one comes. So they end their life completely alone.

Those who have lost their job and can’t find another one. Deeply discouraged, they face each day with no peace. No comfort. Only a troubling concern about what the future holds for them.

For Barry and I during the most difficult moments we ever face, we are always the most encouraged by recalling the lives the Father let us touch with His love. In our remembering them, we find new courage to keep pressing on, even in the hardest of times.  

We are convinced that at the end of life it won’t matter what kind of house we own, or even if we own a home. It won’t matter what kind of car we have or how many clothes we possess. It won’t matter how much we have in the bank, or if we have any money at all. All that will matter are the faces that come to mind of those the Father sent into our lives so that we could impart to them His kindness and the hopeful safety of His humble, simple love.  

Each December 26, looking at life in this way spurs us on, expectantly, to what lies ahead of us in each new year.