My wife and I had just returned to our seats from taking Communion as another group went forward. The peaceful service was suddenly disrupted by the cries of a young boy at the altar. He seemed to stand up and run to a woman of the church standing by. Another woman went down to console him and walk him out of the sanctuary.

That moment, that precious tear between the material world and the spiritual world became clear to me as I knew why the boy was crying. It touched my heart. This young child wanted to take Communion, but someone had told him he couldn’t. I knew that without anyone telling me. I knew because God quickened it to my heart, and because, in a way, I was much like that little boy.

As the woman came up the aisle with the young boy I stood up and asked if I could help. She said I could and thanked me. I took the small child outside, embraced him and hoisted him on my hip as we talked. Even though I knew why he was crying I asked him. Through sobs and tears he managed to let me know that someone had told him that if he took Communion he’d choke on the Communion wafer. (Which I thought was an interesting twist on Paul’s teaching about taking Communion).

Suddenly words started pouring out of me. Questions, explanations, encouragement. It was as if someone were doing the talking for me, or as if I were speaking from a divine script that had been written up for me beforehand. I asked him if he ever asked Jesus into his heart. Still sobbing he said he did, “when the man was talking.” I then asked if he understood what that meant. In a whining voice he answered, “No!” I began to explain to him what it meant to ask Jesus into your heart. I explained, in simple words, that when you ask Jesus in He must come in as not just your Savior, but also your Lord to be Master in your life and rule over you. After a few minutes I asked him if he wanted to ask Jesus into his heart. He said he did.

I led him down to the dining hall where we found a quiet corner to pray. Before we prayed I explained that if he didn’t mean it with his heart it wouldn’t mean anything to God either. I asked him if he ever did anything wrong. He said he did. I explain that’s what sin is, it’s when we do things that are wrong, wrong against other people and wrong against God. I then had him pray with me a modified “sinner’s prayer”. When we were done I asked him if he meant it. He said he did.

My mind and body moving almost before I knew what was going on I led the child up into the main church, walked him down the middle aisle and presented him to Pastor Martineau saying, “I want to introduce you to a new child of God.” Pastor Martineau smiled broadly and embrace the boy. We were both filled with a joy that is beyond measure.

Now anyone who comes to the Lord is reason for rejoicing, but this was special to me. You see, I needed this child. Let me explain.

In the middle of November I more or less volunteered (or was roped into being a volunteer) for our Christmas program. I went home and wrote a play. Made a pamphlet to hand out during the performance. The only problem was that the following Sunday our church met with another church for their annual Thanksgiving combined service. I wouldn’t be able to practice then. This was further complicated by the fact that I would be in Florida the Sunday after that. So, there I was, December 5^th, hoping I had enough time, enough volunteers, enough guts to pull this off. I want you to notice all the “I”s and “me”s here. Then, on Sunday December 5^th, during the announcements I realized that our church was taking part in a parade in town. I had literally run out of time. I was upset. All the work I’d put into this, all the hopes I’d had of making this a real special event came crashing down around me. As they did, bitterness began to battle for control over me. I prayed that God would redirect my focus to what was important and to get my eyes off of myself, but it was a struggle all through the service, even the sermon, which was, as usual, very good. Even in taking Communion I knew I had to pray to get things straight with God before participating. I had to ask Him to make me worthy. I felt like I was just going through the motions.

That’s when the boy started crying, and my spirit broke. I was just like that little boy, trying to do something I had no right to do, and yet I was trying so hard to do the right thing. God sent that boy to me, to minister to so He could minister to me. When all the talk and the prayers were over I was so elated. I realized how wonderful God had been, for God had given me a refresher course in what Christmas really means.

2000 years ago God sent another little boy into this world so that I might learn of Him. That child grew up and by His teachings and example showed me what it meant to live a godly life, but it was His death and resurrection that bought my salvation. That is the true meaning of Christmas, that those who were lost in darkness might receive that great Light of God, who is Jesus. That Sunday morning God sent me another son, a young boy named Jaquan, to show me just exactly what Christmas means.

When I shared this later with the pastor I told him that God had sent this boy to me. I explained about all the bitterness I was struggling with, but then I told him that because of this child I had relearned what Christmas really means. Then I told him, “I don’t need this anymore,” I said throwing the script of my play in the air. “I found my Christmas.” This is important, for the name of my play was, “The Search for Christmas”. Who knows, perhaps someday we’ll get to perform it. But this year, this year I needed something more, Jaquan needed something more, our church needed something more.

“For unto us a child is born…” How beautiful those words have always been to me, and yet how much more alive they are now because of a little child who needed Jesus. So I rejoice, with all the hosts of heaven, over that one sinner who has repented. I rejoice over that one lost sheep that has been found. I rejoice in the immeasurable love of our Lord who unites one need with another to His glory. Yes, one day our church may put on that play, but this year I shall always remember as the Christmas of two sons. The son of God and the son that God sent to me to remind me of that first son.

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