In this, the sixth of seven Christmas memories leaders are sharing leading up to Christmas Day, retired Christian minister Tom Ellsworth remembers a journey during his first year as a father.
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By Tom Ellsworth
Our firstborn, Emily, was 7 months old—it was our first Christmas as parents. I just knew sharing that Christmas with both sets of grandparents would make it the best ever.
My wife, Elsie, is one of six siblings. When the extended family converged upon the old farmhouse in central Illinois, it would be a wonderful experience . . . an old-fashioned Christmas to be sure. And that year, with a new baby . . . well, it was going to be perfect.
As the time of our trip neared, the forecast grew questionable, but missing Christmas at the farm was not an option. So, we packed up and piled into our front-wheel-drive compact car with Emily seated in the back with all the presents. We headed out, but as we journeyed west, the weather worsened. Wisdom dictated that I turn around and head back to our Indiana home, but youthfulness and the thought of missing out on the big family Christmas gathering at the farm trumped good judgment.
I strained to see the road through the swirling snow. The trip, which should have taken just over four hours, stretched well past six hours. The Illinois road crews were fighting a losing battle against the elements. And that’s when it hit me: How would our little car navigate the backroads to the farmstead? After all, the interstate was already down to one lane. Darkness settled in across the flat landscape. The wipers wheezed as they tried to keep up with the blinding snow. Cellphones were still in the dream stage, so we could not call for help. I kicked myself for being so reckless; this was no journey for a baby!
When we crept around the last bend in the county road, I spotted headlights reflecting off drifting snow at the entrance to the back roads. Drawing closer, we recognized my father-in-law’s pickup truck fitted with a snowplow. Somehow, he had judged the worsening weather and determined how long it would take us to arrive at that spot. He was waiting to lead us home. Were it not for him and his pickup clearing the way for us, I’m quite sure we would have been stranded with a baby far from the warmth and joy of home. But what a homecoming it turned out to be!
Hardly a Christmas goes by that we don’t reflect upon that bleak and risky trip. Our fears, worries, stress, and regrets simply melted away when Elsie’s dad met us at the end of the road. I knew we were safe.
Thirty-eight Christmases have hurried by since that memorable journey. Today, our parents are at home with the Lord and grandkids now beat a path to our door to celebrate Christ’s birth.
Long before this impetuous father packed up his 7-month-old for a risky Christmas journey, another Father sent his infant Son on a journey that changed everything. Somehow, he judged our worsening condition and determined what we needed most—a Savior who could take away our sin and make us white as snow. Were it not for him making a way, we would be spiritually stranded, far from the warmth and joy of eternity.
Someday, at just the right moment, we will find our heavenly Father waiting at the end of the road to lead us safely home. And, oh, what a homecoming that will be!
Tom Ellsworth served as senior minister with Sherwood Oaks Christian Church, Bloomington, Ind., for nearly 40 years before retiring last year. His website is TomEllsworthMinistries.org.
Lovely story ending with a perfect analogy. Thank you!