I was working at my desk the other day and happened to glance over and notice anew a small wooden footstool I’ve had for more than 20 years. It’s a bit weathered and scarred, having endured rambunctious children and teething puppies, but I don’t plan to ever toss it out because I love good stories, and this little stool tells a great one …
The handcrafted stool was a gift to me from a young man who blew into and out of our lives so quickly that were it not for this piece of furniture, I might sadly forget him altogether. His name was Blair and he worked with a circus that stopped in Greenwood for a few performances. Blair was one of those rough-around-the-edges, itinerant circus workers who make us wonder, “Who are these folks? Are they safe? Do they have families? Why did they choose a life like this, moving from place to place, shoveling elephant dung, hauling equipment and living in tiny trailers?”
True to the stereotype, Blair got into trouble with the law while he was here, and when he did, the authorities called a friend of ours who voluntarily worked with young people teetering on the edge of serious trouble – kids like Blair. Our friend brought Blair to our church and that’s where the story of my little footstool begins.
The folks at Calvary Chapel Greenwood were known then, as now, for opening wide their arms to those who might not feel so comfortable in more formal, suit-and-tie churches. When Blair came, he was overwhelmed by perhaps the first genuine love he’d ever known. So much so that when the ladies of the church hosted a baby shower for me, Blair wanted to give something from of the abundance he’d received. So he came to my shower … dressed only in a giant baby diaper … and presented to me a footstool he’d built and carved with his own hands.
When I look at it now, I am warmed by thoughts of the heart that gave it – a heart filled to overflowing with love from the God Blair had just begun to get to know.
As quickly as this young man came into our lives, he moved on – no one knows exactly why he left or where he went. But we know Blair took with him one amazing memory of his stay in Greenwood – the knowledge that He had met God … and God had met him … in this place.
I thought about Blair because I’m still in a holiday frame of mind and Blair’s story reminds me of the shepherds in the biblical Christmas story. We’ve cleaned up their image to make them more aesthetically appealing, but shepherds in those days were pretty much the dregs of society. Labeled “unclean” by the religious leaders and undesirable by just about everybody else, they were the itinerant circus workers of their day.
But they were the ones God selected to personally receive the angelic announcement of His son’s birth. God looked over all humanity and chose these — the powerless, the lowly, the rabble. We wouldn’t have done it that way, but God did.
He came to them … just like He came to Blair … just like He came to me … just like He’ll come to you.
“Though the LORD is on high, he looks upon the lowly, but the proud he knows from afar.” – Psalm 138:6