The Bungee Cord. 12-26-22

Hello,

Merry Christmas!

I have always been a worrier. It is in my blood. Literally. Depression and anxiety are part of who I am. When I come to a fork in the road in life, I, as Yogi Berra said, take it, and the “it” that my mind naturally chooses is the one that slides downhill into valleys of darkness and worry. Thankfully, God has given me good doctors, good friends, good medicine, and a good faith to grab ahold of me on those downhill slides and bring me back up to that fork and point me the other way.

One such time when I was slip sliding away (as Paul Simon sings) into a pit of worry was when each of my sons was born. One of the downsides of being a pastor is that you find yourself walking beside people for whom life has shoved them down life’s terrifying slides. I have been there when the miracle of birth is shadowy and scary, and each time one of my sons was born, my mind was tugging me in that dark direction. Thankfully, each of my son’s births, although not without complications, was rerouted onto a path of health and joy.

Nevertheless, when my wife was pregnant with my third son, I still found myself treading along that familiar path of worry. I found myself worrying that I was pushing my odds. Two healthy births behind me, maybe I should have left well enough alone. But with no turning back, I found myself becoming increasingly worried as the birth date neared. And then it came. The child in my wife’s womb had had enough of its cramped quarters and was ready to stretch out its elbows. Trying not to slide down that path of worry, I held onto anything along the way, but the tug of worry was like an elephant pulling me town a path I didn’t want to go down. Into the hospital we went. Directed to a room. Holding my wife’s hand as the contractions increased in speed and force, and then following my wife into the delivery room, putting on scrubs and taking my place at her side. The worries in my bones were bubbling like lava under pressure, and then, just as the doctor said the baby was crowning…..

Just as the doctor said the baby was crowning, I felt a pull in the opposite direction, back up to the fork in the road that I had taken. Upon re-reaching that fork I found myself facing the other fork with the sudden certainty that no matter what the next few moments held in store, God would give me the strength and courage to do what needed to be done. That realization came out of nowhere, the same nowhere that was there before creation, by which the voice of God set all creation into being. It was that divine and almighty power that took ahold of me, and in that moment of my own complete weakness, I felt an overwhelming peace….a peace that I had not felt before. And so as my son squeezed his way into his new world, I was completely calmed by the realization that God would give me the strength….his strength….to do what needed to be done, no matter the health of this baby.

You may not be the worrier that I am, but if your eyes are open and your ears unstuffed, I suspect that you, like I, find yourself being pulled down that slippery slope of fear as you wake each day and find yourself at another fork in the road. But this past weekend we found ourselves in a delivery room, a room far less sanitized than a hospital room, but a room in which a baby would be born to rid the whole world of the deadly germs of sin. And as you and I found ourselves standing beside that delivery manger, God took ahold of us, just as he took ahold of me in that hospital room, pulled us back to the fork in the road, set our eyes in the other direction…the direction of certain hope for our days….for eternity…and filling us with his courage and strength as that baby took its first breath and incarnated the fact that God was going to do whatever it takes to keep us in his embrace….even to walk the path to the cross.

Those first birth cries would find their echo on a last cry coming from the cross. Nothing….absolutely nothing would keep God from having us as his forever!

And in that moment of birth, Christ’s birth, God sets our sights toward the other fork in the road….takes our hand…and says, “I will be with you, even to the close of the age.” And at that moment there is a tsunami of grace and mercy, and just like it was at the birth of my son, you and I can feel ourselves being swept up in peace…divine peace…perfect peace….now and forever!

Merry Christmas.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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