Apple Cider

I changed the order of our midweek service somewhat tonight. We redirected our chairs toward the Christmas tree, in a half circular setting that provided more intimacy as it brought us closer together. At the close of the teaching, I asked for people to share whatever stories might be on their hearts about Christmas. Memories were shared by those in attendance. Some cried as they told of loved ones gone on. Some told of what Christmas means to them. We laughed with some and cried with others as we listened. I promised myself as I listened that I would not forget those who told of the pain of facing a Christmas without a loved one.

In the midst of the sharing, one story leaped out. It was from a young lady, who was visiting. (I'll call her Cindy, not her real name) Cindy told of how she loves to go every year to her grandmother's house. She told of how her grandmother hangs apples on the Christmas tree. And grandma makes apple cider. Cindy said that she loves her grandma's apple cider.

As she shared with us, her excitement was contagious. As I looked in her eyes, I found myself wanting some apple cider. And I don't like apple cider at all. At least I don't think I do. It has been a while since I have tasted it. I am now wondering, thinking, pondering... I'm about to run out somewhere and buy some!

Sitting at home now, two hours later, I think about her story. And I think of how I want my relationship with Christ to be like Cindy's grandma's Christmas tree and apple cider. I want others to be excited to come to the church I pastor, hear the message I preach, love on the Jesus I love. I want them to be ready and eager to come back. I want them to know that grandma's house, I mean Jesus' house, has doors that are open any time.

Cindy sold me on apple cider. Going to go get me some!