Title: Christmas Revelry
It was Christmas Eve and the city sidewalks gleamed with brightly coloured lights as the shops enticingly displayed their wares to those passing by. ‘Come and buy our dainties,’ they cried to those looking on. ‘Something special for your lady love,’ or, ‘Isn’t this just the thing for your beau?’ Many items were greatly reduced in price because the hour was getting late. Whatever you desired could be had for a price.
Not all who passed by were shoppers; some were merely curious, some window shoppers, noting bargains they hoped to snap up in the January Sales, and many others were just lost in the revelry with little regard to the reason for the season.
A banner boldly proclaimed, “JESUS IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON” to all who would hear, but many revellers were too far gone to care. Especially Tim, who was weaving a very crooked path along the sidewalk. Tim was an average young man, who would celebrate at any excuse. His evening had been spent imbibing alcohol to create in him the spirit of Christmas. If had not been for the constant emphasis on religion at this time he would not have realised that there was any connection.
On various street corners church groups stood singing Christmas Carols to their God. Telling of the coming of His Son, Jesus Christ, into this world. Tim approached one of these groups and getting close to a pretty young lady said, “Come on, darling, let you and I go celebrate Christmas together. I’ll give you a real good time. Leave these old fuddy – duddies, you and I can really make things hop.”
Carol drew away, but inwardly she felt sorry for this lost soul. “Not tonight.”
She remembered how a year ago she too had thought that revelling was having a happy Christmas. That was before she found new life in Jesus.
Tim staggered on into the night and Carol thought she may never see him again. She prayed, “Father, if it be possible, let that boy find salvation.”
The group continued carolling and at midnight decided to go home. They would meet again in the morning to celebrate the Saviour’s birth afresh. Carol didn’t have far to go and the streets were still very well lit despite the closing of the shops. She felt perfectly safe covering the short distance to her home alone. There was one short stretch past a park, but she would hasten by and it would be perfectly alright. As she sped up Carol heard a sob in the hedge and saw two feet sticking out.
Should she pause to look? Would she be safe? Would her Father be angry? O Lord what should I do? She stooped to look and there before her eyes was Tim, the young man who had approached the carollers. His head was cut and he needed help. (Serves him right, you say. He got drunk.)
Carol pulled her mobile from her pocket and phoned her father, “Dad, come quick, I’m by the park and I need help.”
Her father needed no second invitation. He ran from the house covering the one hundred and fifty yards to the park in record time. He was thinking as he ran, ‘I hope Carol is safe,’ ‘If anyone harms my little girl, they’ll have me to deal with,’ ‘I can’t see anyone with her.’
Relieved to see that his daughter was safe he set to helping the young man at her feet. They took Tim to their home and contacted his family. (His identity and phone number were in his wallet.
Tim spent the night with Carol’s family and found himself in their church next morning, carolling with those he had mocked the night before. The pastor told the Christmas story of how Jesus had left the ivory palaces of heaven and been born in a stable to fulfil the prophecies. He told of how the Angels proclaimed His birth in a manger in Bethlehem as the one born to be Saviour of all who would believe.
It was with great gusto that Tim sang, “Joy to the World the Lord has come.” His head ached with the hangover, but he was happy with his new found friends, even though he still wasn’t sure about all this Jesus’ stuff.
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