No Christmas Miracle on My Street

God will bring you through.

This article appeared in His Partners. Used with permission. Jacquie Randall, MS., M.F.C.C., is a li­censed rnarriage, family, and child counselor. She specializes in individual psychotherapy, marriage and relationship counseling and clergy/spouse issues. She is also a pastoral wife in the Southern California Conference.—Via Shepherdess International.

It had been a diffi­cult week. It was two weeks before Christmas—a time for hope and joy; but I was feeling failure and loss. I had been under stress studying and sitting for Cali­fornia's oral examination for marriage and family therapists. I had come away from the exam with the sinking feeling that I had not passed and would have to re­take it. Added to this, my hus­band and I had discovered during the week that we just might have to spend Christmas Day alone. As with many clergy families, our extended families are thousands of miles away, and funds to travel at holiday seasons are not always available.

Although my sister and her husband live close by; I had learned that they preferred to spend a quiet Christmas Day alone without company; without us. It felt good that my sister could share her honest desires and feelings with me and I re­spected their decision; neverthe­less, I felt the sting of tears on my cheek. Getting our friendship needs met, creating a sense of "home" wherever we are serv­ing, making close couple friends, has been an issue for us as a pas­toral family. Perhaps for you also.

So, it had been quite week. My husband, Rob, and I dis­cussed options for our Christmas Day—finalizing on one: I would make an extra large batch of my (famous!) cranberry relish, and we would call on some of our friends and church members, dropping by some Christmas cheer and homemade cranberry relish. My husband rushed off to the supermarket to buy the fruit while I gathered containers and ribbons. Rob was back sooner than usual.

"Something went wrong with the cranberry crop this year and there are no fresh cranberries available," he reported.

"Oh, no!" I moaned, remem­bering my dismal attempts at making Christmas cookies and nut breads in past years. I fever­ishly began calling other super­markets in town.

"I'm sorry, fresh cranberries are not available this year/' they all intoned.

"Try Gelsons," Rob piped up supportively, "they're suppose to carry everything." So I tried. Gelsons.

"No," they replied to my inquiry, "there are no fresh cran­berries this year due to crop fail­ure; but we do have frozen cranberries."

"I'll take them," I said, thrilled . "They'll do fine."

"Wouldn't you know it," I exclaimed getting off the phone, "the year we decide to give fresh cranberry relish, the crops fail."

And then, as if God were sit­ting there joining in on our con­versation, a verse that I had seemingly forgotten hit me;

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

And there be no fruit on the vines,

Though the olive crop fails...

My mind went to those we would be visiting on Christmas Day with jars of cranberry relish. Some had lost their wealth this year, business had failed; some had experienced career disap­pointments; some had experi­enced pain in their marriages, some in their relationships with their children; some had declin­ing health; some had experienced personal failure. I thought about my own unfulfilled dreams, unmet desires and at times, sense of failure.

Yes... I mused, what hap­pens when there is seemingly no miracle? . .

I don't know whether or not you would say there was a miracle on my street this Christ­mas. I don't know yet if 1 passed the exam; I don't know what will come my way, your way in the New Year . . . But I know God provided frozen cranberries for the cranberry relish this Christ­mas. And more, He had some­thing to say to me through it:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

And there be no fruit on the vines,

Though the olive crop should fail,

And the fields produce no food,

Though the flock should be cut off from the fold,

And there be no cattle in the stalls,

YET, I will exult in the Lord.

I will rejoice in God my Savior.

The Lord is my strength.

And He has made my feet like hinds feet.

And makes me walk on my high places (Habakkuk 3:17-19).

P.S.I did pass the oral exam on that first try. Thank God!

This article appeared in His Partners. Used with permission. Jacquie Randall, MS., M.F.C.C., is a li­censed rnarriage, family, and child counselor. She specializes in individual psychotherapy, marriage and relationship counseling and clergy/spouse issues. She is also a pastoral wife in the Southern California Conference.—Via Shepherdess International.