Christmas is about grace. I have a car named Grace. It’s not a coincidence.
“Even stop lights blink a bright red and green.” Especially red.
It was the night before Thanksgiving, and I was in a tizzy. The next day was our church’s Thanksgiving Dinner for the Community, and I was the coordinator. Still so much to do. I was driving home from work later than planned and was on the phone with my mom discussing to-dos. Out of nowhere, a car crossed the intersection, and I drove right into it! My body flew forward, and my phone went flying! I hit my knee on the dash and my forehead on the rear-view mirror. I had to kick the door open to get out and was sad to see that the true victim was my beloved red convertible, CeeCee. She was totaled. A little late, I remembered Mom, found my phone, downplayed things A LOT, then turned my attention to the folks in the other car.
They were about the same age as my parents, and I was concerned. They were equally concerned for me. Physically, they were fine but were visiting their son and grandchildren for Thanksgiving from another state, and their Lexus SUV was totaled. Just then, a stranger approached and handed them his card and said, “If you need a witness to explain to the police what happened, I’ll vouch for you.”
Didn’t. See. That. Coming. I thought the accident was their fault. I followed him to his car and asked him questions. His voice rose angrily as he told me that I drove right through the red light. I was panicked! I had never caused an accident before. I was so immersed in my telephone conversation that I ran a red light and didn’t even know it. I felt so guilty. I was guilty.
I didn’t know what to do. I called my husband, Bobby. I screamed in a whisper, “I think I did something bad.” I told him the story and asked what I should do. He explained how to report the accident. I asked how I should explain it to the police. He said, “Tell the truth, Honey. You don’t have to worry about words when you tell the truth. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
I mentally slapped my palm on my forehead. Of course. I calmed down immediately. Bobby reminded me that God’s way is simple. (Note that I didn’t say easy.)
I walked over to the scene, and a police officer was already there. I apologized to the couple, and the woman gave me a hug and said, “It’s OK, Honey. I did that once when I was young.” She meant to comfort, but it made me feel worse. I didn’t feel like I deserved their forgiveness.
So, I turned to the police officer and confessed everything. I was like a verbal tornado, leaving no chance for anyone else to get a word in edgewise. It was as if I had swallowed a dictionary and was determined to use every single word in one go. He just stood there, mouth slightly open. I finally took a breath and realized I had stolen all the words, leaving everyone else with nothing but nods and polite smiles. Um, no need to call Angry Man.
As everyone took their leave, I realized that I hadn’t received a citation. I never did.
The gift.
Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went. We took care of business with CeeCee, and it was time to find another car. Let me tell you, my insurance company was not happy about my Confession Fest. But I was. Bobby had an idea. He suggested that we buy a Crossfire. Wait. Whuut? He knew that the Crossfire convertible was my dream car. He had looked around and said it was within our budget. I was beside myself with happiness.
Bobby asked me for my preferences: Red or black only, convertible, and a non-boring interior, please. No sweat. Haha! Chrysler had only made them from 2005-2008, and they were well out of production, so what I was asking for wasn’t exactly easy to find. I’m kind of a brat, I know. We looked at a few, but they weren’t right. Bobby found one in Philadelphia, more than 300 miles from home. It was January, and it was snowing, but I put the top down and sat in her smiling while snow fell on my head. Bobby stood there, arms crossed, laughing and knew we had found the one.
What the heck does this have to do with Christmas? My friend Matt will explain.
We went to our Bible Study group, and I shared the story. Our friend Matt’s eyes widened as he listened. He exclaimed, his voice rising with each word, “Wait, you mean to tell me that you were on the phone in your car, ran a red light, totaled an old couple’s car, didn’t get a citation, and ended up with the car of your dreams?”
“Yes, that’s exactly it.”
He countered, smiling, “Well, that’s just not right. What is that?”
It hit me right at that moment. I said, “It’s grace, Matt. It’s grace.”
Everyone smiled because we all knew it was true. The definition of grace is “an undeserved gift.” I did something wrong. I was guilty. I confessed and received forgiveness. And grace. This whole story, while all true, is amazingly a metaphor for what God did for us when he sent Jesus to this earth for us. But it didn’t end there. Jesus finished the story by dying, rising again and offering us life through him if we follow him.
The Story of Christmas Grace
Grace is a central theme in the Christmas story, reflecting the undeserved favor and love that God extends to you and me.
- Incarnation of Jesus: The birth of Jesus is an act of grace. God sent His only Son to earth to live among us, not because humanity deserved it, but out of His boundless love and mercy.
- Salvation: The Christmas story marks the beginning of the fulfillment of God’s promise to save us from sin. Jesus’ birth is the first step in the divine plan of salvation, which is a gift of grace. This salvation is not earned by human efforts but is freely given by God.
- Humble Beginnings: Jesus was born in a humble manger, symbolizing that God’s grace is available to all, regardless of status or wealth. It shows that grace is not about grandeur but about God’s willingness to meet us where we are.
- Message of Hope: The angels’ announcement to the shepherds brings a message of peace and goodwill to all people. This proclamation is a testament to God’s grace, offering hope and joy to a world in need.
- Inclusivity: The visit of the Wise Men from the East signifies that God’s grace extends beyond the Jewish people to all nations.
In essence, the Christmas story is a powerful narrative of grace, demonstrating God’s unconditional love and the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ.
I love you; you don’t have to believe what I believe. My love for you won’t change. But I hope you’ll consider it. Grace has changed my life; it’s good to live inside it.
Merry Christmas from me and Bobby. Oh, and from Grace, too.
