Traveling the Rock Road

This is a story I shared once before and felt it was worth printing once again especially for the new readers. I’ll be taking next week off but look forward to bringing you “Traveling the Rock Road” in 2016.

I hope you’ll enjoy reading “The Love Box.”  Thanks for your part in making 2015 special for my Lady and me.

As a child there were times that I was separated from my mom. Being a single mother during the 50s plus severely hard of hearing made it hard for her to find work that would support her and the needs of a young child. So on occasion I would be sent to stay with extended family members until mom got on her feet and could come get me.

During one of those times I found myself staying with relatives in Eastern Kentucky. This was a family of six, nice but very strict. I had never heard of the term corporal punishment back then, but I learned what it was all about if I stepped out of line; and I sure missed my mom. I would think about how we would sit on the couch and play games or just hug. And yes these folks were good people, but warm emotions were something they didn’t show or share often. If I got hurt there was no compassion, if I cried it was “shake it off, it’ll get better.” And I sure missed my mom.

Often I would ask about her and when she was coming back for me, but my questions would be ignored. I began to wonder; maybe she isn’t coming back for me at all.

One day a large box showed up and inside were toys, games and clothes; and it was all for me. I didn’t understand why I was receiving this and when I thanked the parents of the family for the gifts, but they said it wasn’t from them. I thought a while about it and then asked, “Did my mom get these for me?” Again I received no answer, but this time they both looked at me hard as if to say I hit the nail on the head. From that point on each day I would climb inside of that box with one of my new toys and say to myself, “Mom’s coming for me, mom’s coming for me.”

Then the day came when my Great Aunt Pearl came to visit and spent the better part of a night talking with the parents. The next day for the first time I saw emotion from these people–sadness. Each member of the family gave me a hug and then Pearl and I boarded the bus to leave. “Pearl, where are we going?” I asked. With a smile she answered, “I’m taking you home.” Now I wasn’t sure what that meant or where that was located; by that point in my life I had lived in Kentucky, West Virginia, Maryland and Ohio. Where was this place she called home and how would I recognize it? That answer came when the bus finally came to a stop and the door opened. There was mom waiting to greet me with tears and hugs. I can’t tell you if I even understood where I was, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that was important was mom was there waiting on me, that in itself said, I was home.

Later on I learned that the box sent to me wasn’t really a big mystery. Mom had sent it because it was Christmas time and she wanted me to have something to know she was still there and stilled loved me. The people I was living with didn’t celebrate Christmas so they made no mention why it was sent, or from whom. I also learned it had been their plan to keep me and not let me return to mom, but that’s another story for another time. Perhaps they thought over time I would forget about mom and stop asking about her, but maybe they also learned that I could not be separated from my first love.

Some 2,000 years ago a Gift was sent from a Father, letting his children know He had not forgotten them, that His love was still there for them. That Gift was in the form of a Child, a Savior.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Another writer puts it like this, “Jesus was God’s gift to the world, not just for Christmas, but for every single day…your whole life through…and even beyond for all eternity.”

These many years later I can’t recall its contents, but I still think about that box, “The Love Box” as I refer to it, sent to let me know I wasn’t forgotten and I would someday be home with the one who loved me most.

Many years prior to that moment, a manager with a baby was the eternal representation of the same thing, the same love. Letting us know that God the Father hadn’t forgotten us, and waits until the jubilant moment when we are with Him, Home!

On behalf of my Lady and myself I like to thank all who have “Traveled the Rock Road” with us this year, and we look forward to more journeys in the coming year.

A very Merry and Blessed Christmas and New Year to you and your loved ones.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men!”