Come Before Winter – Chapter Twenty-Five – a Christmas Miracle
December 25th, 2021
2 Timothy 4:21, “Do your utmost to come before winter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – a Christmas Miracle
Mercy fell forward. ‘Daddy? Papaw?’ She asked again, ‘Daddy? Papaw?’ She began to move her way out of the pew, pushing forward. Gwen tried to grab her hand, but there would be no holding Mercy back. She had come too far, for what she hadn’t known until now. For this very minute, she was born for. Everyone had grown particularly silent, sensing something big was about to take place. Mercy rushed all the way to the front of the church, crying like the child she once a long time ago had been, ‘Daddy! Papaw!’ she knew with certainty, it was they. Her whole life, she had been searching for just this moment.
The pastor of the church, the one dressed in the velvet coat and who wore the soft words, stepped in front of Mercy as she reached the stage. Just as he attempted to stop her, a cry went up. ‘O my Lord, Mercy! No, that’s my daughter!’ The man tumbled from the steps leading down from the stage and instantly was at Mercy’s side. He smothered her face with kisses and cloaked her in his arms. Shouting praises, he turned to his friend the pastor and in a tangle of words, relayed, ‘It’s okay! This is my daughter! Mercy! Who we’ve been praying would come, come before winter! Remember? Oh! my goodness, it truly is a Christmas miracle, an answer to prayer, a gift from our God!’ He pulled Mercy onto the stage, and in the flurry, she forgot her shyness as she knelt before the man in the wheelchair. ‘Papaw,’ she whispered. Tears leaked from his eyes, and he mumbled in a weak voice, ‘You came. Mercy, my girl, you came!’
Mercy’s dad stepped to the podium and cleared his throat, his voice was soaked with emotion. He turned watercolor eyes to gaze at his daughter and all the years fell away for Mercy. The wonder and pride, the sorrow for so much time missed, the repentance, the hope and love, all of it was there on display in that one gaze. She wrapped her hands around the shaky fingers of her grampa, climbing onto his lap just as she had as a child. All the years disappeared, and suddenly it was just the two of them again, momentarily, as it had been so, so long ago. The congregation held their breath and dried their eyes. No one had ever witnessed anything like this before. And eventually, her dad spoke.
‘Hi, my name is John Day. This is my father, Thomas Day. And that’s my daughter, Mercy,’ he said with pride. ‘You might remember who I was, who we were, but I want to tell you our story; one of forgiveness and God’s redeeming love, and who Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is to us and who He made us to be now.’ He paused and said, ‘Believe me, none of this is staged. Seeing my daughter is just as much of a shock to me, to us, as it is to you.
‘See, I haven’t had a glimpse of her in almost eighteen years. My father and I were arrested after an explosion at a meth lab we were involved in which maimed several, including my wife, and killed two others. My daughter was little more than a baby, just a child, and we left her alone, and I am sure afraid, when we went into hiding. Eventually, we were found and arrested and eventually someone rescued Mercy. I do not know anything of Mercy’s life, other than many months ago, I sent a letter to an unknown address I stumbled across, begging her to come to Denver to see her grandfather, her papaw, before he passed. As you can tell, he is getting on in years and prison was hard on his heart. I feared he would die of a broken heart because he has felt so terrible for what happened to so many victims of ours, especially his granddaughter Mercy. And now here she is.’ He smiled, then added quietly, ‘Before winter has even shown up here in this city.
‘I came here to tell you our story. Some of you may not know this, but your pastor, Pastor Mark, spends a lot of time in the jails and visits those when he is able in prison. Many years ago, when I was a high profile case, he came to visit me, and I told him to get lost, to peddle his GOOD NEWS elsewhere. He came back and came back. He wouldn’t give up! Unbeknownst to me, at the same time, in another prison facility he was visiting my father. We received similar sentences, but were sent to different facilities.
‘One day, he said he had news to share with me, and I said something cocky like, “Yeah, like the other GOOD NEWS you keep trying to sell me?” He shook his head, and said instead, “I have been spending time with your father, and he wanted me to give you this.” He handed me a letter, written in my dad’s handwriting, something I would know anywhere. I threw it on the floor. Pastor Mark left it there though, knowing how curious and lonely for a word from family every man is in prison. He was right; I had to pick it up eventually and read it.’ Mercy’s dad paused then, the emotion wrapped tightly around his voice, threatening to strangle his words. She longed to run to him so he wouldn’t feel and look so alone standing at that podium. But she stayed, resting her head on her grampa’s chest, listening to his breathing like a song.
‘I read that letter and reread that letter and read it some more. So many times, in fact I had it memorized. So, my father wanted me to know with Pastor Mark’s guidance, he had accepted Jesus Christ as his personal Savior, and he first wanted to ask my forgiveness for putting my family in jeopardy and leading me into illegal and dangerous territories and not setting a better example for me. Then he wished I would consider receiving Jesus in my heart too and experiencing a new beginning.’ Mercy’s dad looked at her grampa with such love, it was plain to see how the story went. Recollections continued to seep from the elderly man’s eyes and memories ran down his cheeks like trails, leaving tracks.
‘It didn’t stop there, however, and I guess I am not sure to this day, how Pastor Mark pulled it off, but when I finally confessed I was ready to yield myself and my way, he was able to get my dad transferred to the facility I was at. It was my earthly father who led me to my heavenly Father. We began to study the Bible and lead studies together with other men. It’s been an inexpressible blessing to introduce many brothers in prison who are helpless and hopeless individuals to Jesus and to share with them his offer of forgiveness and eternal, internal freedom. Eventually, my dad and I were able to take seminary classes, and prior to our release from prison, we were able to be initiated as chaplains. My father is too weak and no longer able to go into the prisons, but I continue my work inside in the hopes that I can help more men like me.’ He looked out at the congregation and then turned so he could see his daughter.
‘So if you are here today, if you feel like you are entangled in life’s web, with no way to get free from the empty things of this world which will never fill you or fix you, His grace is for you. It is a free gift, and it is yours today. So, don’t let another moment pass without asking Him into your life. His hope is perfect and so is His peace. Let me pray for you, and if anyone needs to make a decision right now, please don’t wait. Come forward and welcome Him in. His is waiting, standing at the door of your heart, waiting for you to open it to Him and let Him in.’ Her dad turned to Mercy again, his eyes so kind; his words tugging at something deep inside as the music began to play. As the strains of a song she had heard only maybe once before drifted by, “Til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth…”, Mercy began to weep.
Psalm 68:5-6a, “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, He leads out the prisoner with singing.”
To Be Continued…
