Yesterday I finished writing my Christmas cards. Some people call this tradition a chore but I find it to be the perfect time for quiet reflection and the whispered renewal of memories. Warm feelings flow as I address and sign these personal greetings, especially to family members and loved ones. Some are forwarded to far away destinations while others are delivered next door to friendly neighbors. A few were mailed to those I have known for years, and several reached new and special friends, all now having a reserved pocket in the heart of this holiday dreamer.
Then there was the one I sent with a lengthy letter to a life long and treasured friend. His name is John and we met when we were both toddlers. We have maintained contact throughout these many years and I admit his newsy updates bring tears to the eyes of his sentimental playmate. We grew up in a small town, went to the same school and did all the fun things boys do. We even played in the same bands, he on his trumpet and me on the saxophone. I remember our families taking summer vacations together during the Second World War and how honored I felt years later when he accepted our invitation to be best man at my wedding.
I have come to know and love another John, the Apostle and friend of Christ. It has been written that John was, “The disciple whom Jesus loved.” What a privilege and blessing to be named for such a close and faithful companion to the Son of God. We find in the Bible the following verses,
“When Jesus saw his mother there,
and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby,
he said to his mother,
‘Dear woman, here is your son,’
and to the disciple,
‘Here is your mother.’
From that time on this disciple took her into his home.”
I have always known my friend John to be a most caring and sensitive person while the biblical John expressed spiritual wisdom and compassion.
Someday I would like the privilege to sit and interview them both for my eternal journal.