Christmas stays if we don't forget its meaning....

Driving home early this afternoon I was listening to an old Christmas classic. Or, at least, it's a Christmas classic to me. "Old City Bar" by Trans-Siberian Orchestra is one of my favorite Christmas songs, and if you know me this time of year I say that about a lot of songs. But this one is different to me...while I never tire of singing the spirituals loudly and proudly, and can't stop smiling when I sing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire, some of the songs that most tell me it's Christmastime are like this one. "Old City Bar" tells a story of a child who is trapped outside in the snow and can't get home. Across the street, a bartender cleans his register to get her a taxi and a plane ticket. The song culminates in a resounding chorus:

If you want to arrange it
This world you can change it
If we could somehow make this
Christmas thing last
By helping a neighbor
Or even a stranger
And to know who needs help
You need only just ask

As I was driving home, I was contemplating how meaningful this all was to me, as well as the larger context of the album-length stories that Trans-Siberian Orchestra tells, when I dawned on me that I was singing empty lyrics: I hadn't helped any neighbors this season, and especially not any strangers! In fact, sometimes I find my focus to be so strongly on my ministries, my relationships, and myself, that I realize that I don't even know the types of people that "Old City Bar" talks about.

Almost as if on cue, while sitting at a stop light, a young man ran through the cold rain across the street, clutching a bright red gasoline can. He was seeking refuge from the elements under the cover of the gas station at the opposite corner. When the light jumped to green, I quickly cut off the driver next to me and pulled slowly into the gas station. Spying him going inside the store, I rolled down my window to ask him if he needed a ride. Sure enough, his car had run out of gas a half-mile away. He was trying to use his day off and the paycheck he had gotten yesterday to buy Christmas presents. Sam and I had a nice chat on the way back to his run-down truck and he thanked me for the blessing that he had received. I left knowing that God had blessed me as much as He had blessed Sam.

If our kindness
This day is just pretending
If we pretend long enough
Never giving up
It just might be who we are