Today, December 24, 2014, I was on my way to Walmart to finalize some last minute Christmas shopping. Earlier in the week I made a promise to the Lord that I would strive diligently to live more worthy of His example. I wanted this to be my gift to Him, not knowing that I would quickly learn how perfectly He answers prayers.
As I entered the parking lot, I noticed three police officers on bicycles who had stopped to talk to each other. I thought about the two police officers who had been shot, point blank, this past week and I struggled to keep it all in. I couldn’t begin to imagine what their families must be going through and my guts churned with grinding emotions. I wondered how many mornings they’d kissed their loved ones goodbye with a fear of what they might encounter throughout the day.
I thought of my life, a life that had never been in danger or fear, a life protected by others who were willing to do what I was not; good men and women who put their lives in peril to protect me and my own. I stepped out of the car and walked toward the three men. One of the officers looked at me and said, “Ma’am?” My heart was pounding. (I live in a very tight knit community, but in the last few years I’ve watched the dark elements seeping through the cracks and crevasses of this quaint little town.)
I offered in gratitude. “I want to thank you for the hours of service you’ve given to keep our community safe. I imagine many times that you have stepped into the line of fire without thinking about your own safety. Thank you for all you’ve done, each one of you. Merry Christmas and know that many people will sleep well tonight because you’re doing your jobs.” One of the officers responded, “Thank you Ma’am and Merry Christmas to you!”
I entered the store and began browsing through the isles when I overheard an older gentlemen ask the clerk if they had any artificial poinsettias. He said he’d been several places and couldn’t find them anywhere. (I had a tender feeling he wanted to place them on a grave.) When the clerk told him they didn’t have any, I watched his shoulders droop in disappointment, then he thanked the clerk cordially and walked away. I rounded the corner of the next isle and right before me were several rows of plastic poinsettias. I turned around to tell the gentleman, but he’d already disappeared into the crowded isles.
‘How could I find him!’ I thought to myself. I wasn’t even sure I remembered what he looked like for it had all happened so fast, but I was determined. I went up and down each isle staring at unfamiliar faces and just when I was about to give up, I saw him coming down the row directly in front of me.
“I have been looking for you.” I said with excitement. “I found the poinsettias you were asking about, do you still want them?”
“Yes, I do.” He responded and he followed me to the other side of the store.
“I hoped I would find you -- I am so glad you didn’t leave.”
Then he told me something that I was not prepared to hear.
“They’re for my son’s grave.” His voice crackled with a string of painful words that lodged in his throat. Sharp, jagged words that tore open the still tender scars in my heart. I knew too well of the pain and sorrow of untimely death, for not long ago my son had lost his son; a level of pain that cannot be extinguished.
He continued. “He was just 28 years old, with a wife and child; a strapping 230 pound football player; the picture of health and strength... but he was gone in an instant.”
I stopped to listen and then offered what seemed to be too small and insignificant, but it was all I had. “I am so sorry, I know how deep those wounds are and I feel your pain. My heart goes out to you...would you share with me what happened?”
“He died from colon cancer, can you imagine, he was so young.” He paused for a moment and then continued, seemingly out of breath. “It never gets any easier, it’s been 17 years and it still feels like yesterday.” His eyes glassed over and his sorrow was still clearly visible.
“I am sad to hear of your loss.” I began to move my cart forward as he followed close behind. I lead him around the corner to the poinsettias and he seemed delighted. “Thank you so much, I’m really grateful, it’s nice to know people care.”
“You’re so welcome, I do care and I will keep you in my prayers.”
I turned my shopping cart in the opposite direction to leave, when I heard the still small voice of the Lord whispering to me.,“That’s not enough.”
At that very moment, I turned back and wrapped my arms around this sweet man.
“I care, I care very much and I know the weight of your burden -- I want you to know you’re not alone.”
I could feel his chest heaving with emotion and I didn't let go until I was certain he felt my love for him. “Merry Christmas my friend!” I said. "And may God bless you."
I left the store with a deeper understanding of the power of God’s love and how it manifests itself through one of His most powerful commandments to "love one another.”
(Merry Christmas, Tristin, may God be with you until we meet again! I will love you forever my dear one and that is a very, very long time! Grandma)
A member of the church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going. After a few weeks his bishop decided to visit him. It was a chilly evening and the bishop found the man at home alone sitting before a blazing fire. 
