Strange Days Indeed

It’s the first day of a new week, the week of the year that holds for us in Ohio the day with the least daylight, the winter solstice. In our little town, we are into the third day of clouds so dense that even the daylight hours are dark. It’s a wonderful time for bright Christmas lights.

Our tree from a Christmas past.

I’m thinking about some of these recent days, days that have held unexpected events, happenings that felt a bit dark, strange in the context of the Christmas season, inconsistent with the holly jolly holiday. It’s a good time for facing reality. Last year’s post, The Most Emotional Time of the Year, acknowledged that we often celebrate with sadness.

During the past week, three days were very strange for me. Make that four.

TUESDAY: We had sunshine as Dave and I drove north to the Cleveland Clinic, a place we’ve been to numerous times and where he had open heart surgery seven years ago. But this time, when we entered the city and turned toward the hospital complex, my heart pounded in the reality that I am now the patient. During my appointment, the second neurosurgeon recommended back surgery to remove a tumor in my spine that is pressing on nerves.  It’s a great time to remember that, “Your eyes (God) saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 136:16)

Fountain and Parking Garage at Cleveland Clinic – 2011

THURSDAY: I received a phone call from Dave, working out of town for the day, about bomb threats sent by e-mail to numerous businesses. The newspaper building in Wheeling, West Virginia, his office location, received the threat and would have police dogs search all floors. Capital University in Columbus, Ohio, the campus where son Eric works, was also threatened. When he called, Dave did not know that the Martins Ferry, Ohio, newspaper where son Kyle works received the e-mail and evacuated the building. Also sent to hospitals, this widespread notice, demanding payment in exchange for safety, was quickly deemed not credible, but resulted in much disruption, loss of productivity, and increase of anxiety, a new kind of anxiety that accompanies the World Wide Web. Still, “In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, LORD, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8)

FRIDAY: Thursday’s crime of terrorizing passed without tragedy as far as I know. On Friday, I found myself driving through a crime scene. On my way to have lunch with a friend, I noticed a police car in front of our bank. Since the street was not blocked, I proceeded down our little town’s Main Street, passing officers on foot and a number of parked law enforcement vehicles as well as marked cars making quick turnarounds and coming from all directions. Minutes earlier, a man had entered our bank, demanded money, and then escaped. To my knowledge, he has not yet been apprehended. I had not thought to stop at the bank that morning to get some bills for Christmas gifts, an errand that Dave did the next day. Even so, “we can confidently say, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?”‘ (Hebrews 13:6)


It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. (Psalm 100:3)

SATURDAY: I stayed home during another family celebration due to the discomfort of traveling with this condition. Dave and son Kyle drove back toward Cleveland for the Frisch family Christmas celebration. I sent homemade fudge with them and a copy of my Frisch Family Vacations photo book for each of Dave’s siblings. (See 7 Things From 7 Springs) I spent the quiet rainy day at home, but was able to take part in the party through a Facetime cell phone call. As the apostle Paul wrote to the Thessalonians,  “But, brothers and sisters, when we were orphaned by being separated from you for a short time (in person, not in thought), out of our intense longing we made every effort to see you.

In these strange days, when health problems, danger, evil and darkness pay no attention to the calendar, attempting to steal the joy of Christmas, the truth of God’s gift of light, life, and peace through His son Jesus Christ is truly an anchor for my soul and a reason for celebration. I pray that you, dear readers, also live in the truth of His love.


This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you:
God is light; in him there is no darkness at all.
1 John 1:5