There he was, so badly beaten by a gang of thieves that he couldn't move for the pain that tortured his body. He had seen incidents like this on TV shows, happening in a setting that possibly had numbed his sense of reality. It was so easy to watch the moment by moment , horrendous acts being performed against “acting” humanity, that it had never crossed his mind the curtain could role up, the stage could fade away, and he would be left standing there the vulnerable target of the merciless.
After all, wasn't it Thanksgiving? “Happy Thanksgiving!”… A time to be thankful, forgiving and offer acts of graciousness to anyone within the sound of our voice and beyond. That wasn't the case at this moment of his life. From the vantage point of a witness (had there been one); he was greeted kindly, and then physically beaten until he was a bloody, crumpled, naked mass of human rubbish. Thrown to the side of the road like the unwanted remains of the Thanksgiving dinner.
All form of emergency communication and identification had been stripped from his possession. Even if he had a cell phone, he was too badly beaten to use it. The phone wasn't the only thing missing...he had so alienated himself from his loved ones, that personally... he would not be missed by his family. He had severed ties long before this day, and to his dismay the family accepted this fact, counted him as dead, and washed their hands from any responsibility for his life. Thanksgiving was just another one of those really lonely depressing holidays … and this one was so lonely it could be the end of him. One other point to note, the neighborhood he was now abandoned in definitely was not a place for a man of his ethnic background to be in at all. He was definitely facing his last hour. He would close his eyes and accept his fate.
Although he had resigned himself to just die and be gone, Someone had other plans. He heard a voice that sounded so much like his attackers that he wanted to whimper and plead for his life, but he was too weak to make a sound. This individual who now invaded his dark hopeless space... just spoke and said “I am sure he is dead and to even touch him to check could be a violation of the law … disturbing a crime scene, I'm out of here!” And the stranger was gone.
A moment later a car slowed down to almost a stop just across from where he was strewn. The door opened and a voice was heard ...”Oh forget it, he does look dead from here, and to check him out I'd be late for our Thanksgiving get together … someone else will probably stop!” The car door shut and the vehicle raced on. All went black, this was what he had been waiting for, and just below the sound of his audible voice he whispered “Death ...thanks for coming and freeing me from this miserable end – oh, and Happy Thanksgiving!”
Wow what a morbid Thanksgiving story …but as reality would have it Death knows no holiday, and extending God's Grace to all we come in contact with should be the daily song of our hearts. Your life is so strategic when Christ has set up his abode in you.
I was looking over a list of famous folks who passed away on Thanksgivings past and I will only pick one of the many because his life in Christ still affects the lives of so many even today (although he went to Heaven 264 years ago): 1674-1748 - Isaac Watts was a famous British hymn writer , wrote about 750 hymns including "Joy to the World", "Oh God our Help in Ages Past" , "This is the Day the Lord Has Made" and "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross."
I will leave you with the words of the last Hymn mentioned for your Spiritual pleasure:
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Jesus, because of Who you are ...Bring me back, restore and refresh the joy filled gladness contained in Thy victorious salvation; and when I begin to falter, support my leaning with the noble wind of Thy Holy Spirit. (Psalm 51:12 prayed through).
Happy Thanksgiving 2012!!
HLFA,
Jeff