Now he was seated on the Salvation Army sofa ten years later with his mind racing on fast-forward. Old wounds had opened up followed by feelings of guilt and confusion. “It’s my fault. I pushed her too hard. I should have gone easier with her. But what else could I have done? I couldn’t let her continue living the way she was. How could I stand by and do nothing while she destroyed herself? O God, why did you let this happen? Things were going great for us. We were a happy family. And now I don’t even know if my Snuggie is dead or alive.”

The bargain hunters in the thrift store ignored him as his thoughts once again returned to Elizabeth and her Bible. He recalled the day he had given it to her. Ironically it was on his own birthday, the 24th of December. After he had opened his own presents he gave Elizabeth the Bible.

Christmas fell on a Monday that year, but he wanted her to have the new Bible the day before so she could bring it and show it off at the Christmas Eve service at their church. He knew his daughter would love it. She had asked for a Bible with pictures in it for Christmas and he couldn’t wait to give it to her. And he could hardly wait to see the look on her face when she saw the small sprig of artificial Holly he had tastefully glued onto the Bible’s front cover. Of course he was right. Elizabeth was thrilled and delighted in showing her Christmas Bible to the kids in her Sunday school class and especially to her best friend Mina.

The following year was a good one for his family, one that was chock full of pleasant times. They enjoyed themselves camping, hiking and fishing and of course scoping out new pizza places. Needless to say, Mina usually accompanied them. Elizabeth and Mina were inseparable and Mina also enjoyed doing crafts and attending Sunday school at their church. She was always made to feel welcome by Elizabeth’s parents who included her in as many family activities as possible. They even celebrated her birthday in their own home and made her feel as though she was one of the family. Mina wished she were. Her own parents were constantly at each other. Their screaming and arguing and threatening were ever-present companions of the five-year old girl.

The year seemed to fly by. The holidays came and went. As usual, Elizabeth’s mom had recently outdone herself with another of her fabulous Thanksgiving dinners. A couple of weeks later the man and his wife were in the old Savoy Playhouse watching The Nutcracker with Elizabeth and Mina seated between them. As the curtain came down and the lights went on for the intermission, Mina’s father appeared. He explained there was something special that suddenly came up, something wonderful. He told them it would make Mina very happy. He was sorry but she would have to leave with him immediately so she didn’t miss out. He promised to drop his daughter off at their home early the next day. Then, taking her hand, the two of them quickly walked down the isle and out of the playhouse.

They never saw Mina again. She and her father had disappeared. Six months later they discovered that Mina’s dad had kidnapped her and taken the little six year old to his native country, Iran. There was nothing anyone could do. Elizabeth was devastated and took it real hard. She had the usual doubts about the goodness of God allowing such a bad thing to happen, but her childlike faith enabled her to trust Him. All this seemed as though it were only yesterday to the man seated on the Salvation Army sofa. He remembered how his heart had gone out to his young daughter who, with tears streaming down her face said, “Dad, things are so ugly now.”

Next the man recalled his daughter as a junior in High School. She was doing very well. She was on the honor roll, a member of the debating team and enjoyed doing volunteer work in the community. She was very active in her church’s youth group and loved teaching Sunday school to younger kids, one of whom she was particularly fond of. Julie, a little five year old came from a poor family. Although her parents never seemed to have enough funds to provide her with many of the material things other kids had, they showered her with love and Julie knew it. Elizabeth became a big sister to her. The two of them had lots of good times together, and of course Julie was treated as part of Elizabeth’s family just like Mina had been many years previously.

And then it happened again with a different twist this time. Julie’s father landed a terrific job clear across the country. It was a wonderful opportunity, one he couldn’t pass up. Although Elizabeth was happy for them she took this latest loss badly. She tried to understand how a loving God could keep breaking her heart by allowing another special person to move out of her life. She really struggled with this. God could have given Julie’s dad a better job closer home and not one that was over 3,000 miles away. But He didn’t, and this really bothered her.

Elizabeth wondered how God could love her if He continued taking her friends away from her. Why was He so unfair? Didn’t He care about her feelings? Didn’t He remember all her prayers pleading with Him to please, please, don’t ever allow something like this to happen again? Didn’t the many nights she cried herself to sleep mean anything to Him? How could a loving Father who is all-powerful and in complete control of things allow her to experience such pain? It wasn’t fair.

Elizabeth started skipping classes and her grades fell sharply. She dropped out of all extra curricular activities and the youth group at church. The only reason she went to church anymore was because her parents forced her to and that would stop when she got out on her own she vowed. And the sooner the better she thought. She never opened her Christmas Bible anymore and of course she stopped praying to God. Why should she? What was the use? Either He can’t help her or He doesn’t care.

Kids who used to ridicule and make fun of her now accepted Elizabeth as one of the crowd. Unlike her parents, they seemed to understand what she was going through. In one way or another they each had been there themselves. They knew what it was like to experience loss or to be bugged by their parents.

Frustrated and disappointed with God, each of her new friends had written Him off. None of them would go so far as to say they didn’t believe in Him; it’s just that they kept Him at arms length while they went about doing their own thing. The pot and beer eased Elizabeth’s pain. Actually it made her feel great. She knew it didn’t solve her problems. She wasn’t a fool, but it enabled her to have the fun and laughs and happiness she was entitled to. Sometimes her problems got worse, but that short period of feeling wonderful made it a trade off she was willing to live with.

Needless to say, Elizabeth’s new lifestyle went over like a lead balloon with her parents, especially her dad. It was heartbreaking to see the change that had come over their daughter. Watching her stagger down the path leading to the front door, sometimes with cuts and bruises and torn clothing, was devastating. They tried to be patient and understanding. They really did. They reasoned with her. They pleaded. Then they threatened her. They didn’t know what to do or where to turn. Their once happy home was now a war zone and they were all combatants and casualties. The parents prayed often with tear filled eyes begging God to do something, anything. They couldn’t continue living like this. They were beginning to wonder if God heard them or if He was even really there.

And then the father got the memorable phone call tipping him off that Elizabeth was drunk at the old Blue Moon Café. When he left his home taking the Christmas Bible with him and headed towards the waterfront, he had no way of knowing this would become the night his beloved Elizabeth, the one who used to love snuggling up in his lap while he told her stories or read to her from her Christmas Bible when she was a little girl, was about to disappear from his life.

Still seated on the Salvation Army sofa, he became conscious of the activity around him. Women were going through the clothing and carefully examining each article before finally selecting something. Weary children were growing increasingly bored and antsy. They wanted out of there. Harried clerks stole a glance at the old clock that hung on the wall over the cash register and were grateful the store would be closing in a little less than an hour.

The man’s thoughts once again returned to the night he lost Elizabeth. He remembered phoning the police and how they had searched in vain, even dragging the river before finally giving up and adding Elizabeth’s name to the list of thousands of runaway children in America. He recalled how devastated his wife was when he broke the news to her. The daughter his wife had given birth to when she was 52 years old; the precious child she named Elizabeth after John the Baptist’s mother was gone, and might even be dead for all she knew.

He will never forget how his wife blamed him for what had happened. No, she couldn’t come up with a better idea of how he should have treated Elizabeth’s rebellion, but he should have. After all, he was the man of the house and it was his job to figure things out.

A few months later his wife of 31 years left him. It wasn’t as though she didn’t love her husband, she did, but she needed to work through her loss and believed she had to get away to do it. Eight months after his wife moved out, his employer forced him into early retirement. No sooner did he go through one painful loss than another followed in its wake. Would they ever stop? How much more could he take? What would he loose next?

How ironic all this seemed to him. He recalled how smoothly things used to go in his life. He remembered a particular incident that happened several months before any of the trouble started. He was reading his Bible and came across a passage that seemed to leap off the page and hit him right between the eyes. He had just started reading the fortieth chapter of the prophet Isaiah. He couldn’t get past the first verse, which said: “Comfort ye, comfort ye My people, saith your God.” This verse spoke to him. It felt as though it was written just for him. He was acutely aware of the relative easy life he enjoyed compared to that of other folks he knew, the one’s with broken marriages, alcoholism, financial problems or serious illness.

His heart had always gone out to them but on this particular morning, his burden for hurting folks really intensified to the point that he found himself on his knees asking God to use him to comfort His people. Actually, pleading with God would more accurately describe the man’s experience. He decided that he would become active in his community, and was hoping the Lord would lead him to hurting people that He wanted to bless through the man. Then as we all so often do, he forgot about his prayer, which was followed by the series of life jolting experiences that were draining him emotionally. It seemed as though no sooner did one end than another followed in its wake.

A year after Elizabeth’s disappearance one of his prayers was answered. His wife returned, and their relationship was restored; their love had endured. News of the planned demolition of the old Blue Noon Café as part of an urban revitalization project brought back many unpleasant memories. Since they had no ties in Maine they moved to Vermont. He opened a little hobby shop to supplement their income. They joined and became active in the Heritage Baptist Church, a new one that was small in numbers and big in love.

The church recognized his God given gifts and saw him as a person who was able and eager to help hurting people. He was ordained a deacon a year and a half later. The man helped out at the Salvation Army soup kitchen in Burlington. He was a handyman and delighted in fixing things for financially strapped people. He also loved visiting lonely people. And of course, he had a special burden for folks who had lost a child.

Still seated on the sofa, he thought of how happy he was helping neighbors in need. In spite of all he had been through, he was happier now than he had ever been in his life. Knowing that he was doing the works God had planed for him to do from before the creation of the world, the man felt fulfilled. He considered himself honored for the privilege of serving the Lord through acts of kindness and mercy to his fellow creatures. The man knew the Lord was with him and blessed his labor of love. In spite of his age, he looked forward to each day with eager anticipation wondering what new opportunity or challenge the Lord had in store for him.

He once again glanced at the Christmas Bible on his lap and for some unexplainable reason just happened to open it to the first chapter of Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. His eyes seemed to be drawn to the third verse which said, ” Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”

It was like a revelation to him. His past ordeals started to make sense. He could see God’s hand in them and the man understood how the One who is infinite in wisdom was using his losses; his suffering; frustration; disappointment and rejection to prepare him for a unique ministry of comforting His hurting children. Also, his burdens had a way of drawing the man into a closer walk with Jesus and because of God’s mercy, the man knew he never walked alone. Jesus was with him every step of the way. It was as though he had been climbing a mountain and had to start by passing through the “Valley of Tears” on his way to the summit. He hadn’t arrived yet, only God knew when that would be, but he knew he was experiencing a little bit of Heaven on Earth every day of his life. And he wouldn’t trade places with anyone.

Still seated on the Salvation Army sofa, he silently thanked God for being with him on his journey. He praised Him for His gentleness of not giving him a burden that was more than he could handle. He thanked Him for providing for his every need and seeing to it that he lacked no good thing every step of the way. A store clerk nudging his shoulder and telling him that they were closing for the day interrupted his prayer. Although old wounds had been opened, he left the thrift store with the Bible in his hand and a heart full of gratitude to the One whose ways are not our ways, whose ways are higher than our ways, whose ways are perfect and past finding out.

Several months later he was in his Hobby Shop waiting on last minute Christmas shoppers. It was the day before Christmas Eve, a time of year that always brought back unpleasant memories since Elizabeth left home. By the grace of God, he was able to ward off depression, nevertheless he was still melancholy and would be glad when the season ended.

For the umpteenth time that day the jingle bells attached to the door to his shop signaled the arrival of another shopper. It was a little girl about five years old. A tall man who was apparently her father trailed behind. The little girl reminded him of a hummingbird as she flittered around the store checking out everything in sight. Sensing she was becoming exasperated, he went over and offered his assistance. “May I help you young lady,” he asked? “I sure hope so,” she replied. “I’ve been looking for a present for my mom and I can’t find anything.” The little girl’s father explained his daughter Emily was very particular when it came to buying presents. They had been shopping all day without success. “I have to get my mom something,” she said as she continued wandering by herself.

About ten minutes later she shouted, “I found it”. “Mom will love this,” she added as she held up the Christmas Bible that she had discovered on a shelf underneath the cash register. “I’m sorry Emily, but that’s the one thing that’s not for sale,” the man replied. Since Elizabeth’s Bible came back into his life during the summer, he took it to the shop to remind himself to pray for her. “But my mom needs it. Her Bible is all worn out.”

The man looked at her father for help. “I know Mom needs a new Bible Emily, but I don’t think she would like this one. It’s for a little girl. She needs one of those big leather ones like the other ladies have,” he added. “But Dad, I just know Mom will love this Bible and so will the kids in her Sunday school class,” Emily insisted as tears started to trickle down her face. Then she started sobbing and shaking. The man’s heart began to melt. But how could he bring himself to part with this last reminder of his daughter? One more look at the sobbing little girl and he knew the answer. “Ok, the Bibles yours,” he said, and then, in an attempt to lighten things up a bit, he took a tissue from the same shelf the Bible was on and said, “here Emily, blow your nose”.

He was back in his Hobby shop early the next day, which was Christmas Eve. It was also his birthday. He would be glad when the day was over. There were too many sad memories. The jingle bells on the hobby shop door chimed and Emily and her dad were his first customers. “My mom told me to give it back,” the little girl said, as she handed Elizabeth’s Christmas Bible to the old man. “My mom says she doesn’t like it. She’ll be here soon to tell you why.” I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” the man replied. “Everybody loves the Christmas Bible.”

Momentarily his thoughts wandered to the night Elizabeth had flung it off of the bridge. He never thought he would see it again but it kept coming back to him. He wondered what kind of a mother Emily had. Even if she didn’t like it, she could have pretended she did so as not to hurt her daughter’s feelings. That’s what he would have done.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the doors jingle bells signaling the arrival of another shopper. The young woman joined in the conversation saying: “Emily’s telling you the truth. I really don’t like it, “I love it! Happy birthday dad. And then she ran and flung her arms around him and gave her dad the most snuggly hug ever.

With childish glee, in a matter of seconds Emily watched the old man’s facial expression turn from one of deep disappointment to that of tearful joy. The pain of separation was instantly replaced by the joy of reunion. The old man sobbed as he held his beloved Snuggy in his arms. And you know what? Little Emily couldn’t think of anything better to do or say than: “Hey Grandpa, blow your nose,” as she handed him a tissue.

A little over 2,000 years ago, when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son to save His people from their sins. It’s because of what Jesus accomplished with His incomprehensible love that regardless of whatever you may be going through in your life, you can trust Him to make all things beautiful, in His time. Just you wait and see.