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Name: John Crutchfield
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For Tyler, Tell Them Jesus Sent You

Our traditional gift giving took on a deeper meaning since the year we gave the Nativiy to Tyler and his family.  It was quite an experience and, although there can be no comparison, I've sometimes wondered since what it must have been like for the Three Kings as they brought gifts to the King of Kings.  What were they feeling as they knelt before the manger that cradled the Son of God?  What was in their hearts the day they entered into the presence of our Emmanuel?  It is beyond my comprehensive ability.
 
The memory of that special Christmas stayed with us through the years that followed.  Donna told us that the family continued to set up the Nativity every year and it served as a reminder of God's love for them.  Just knowing this family was a blessing for us as God's love was on display throughout our relationship.  We all served Him as we interacted to lift each other before His Throne of Grace and seek His mercy, but it didn't stop there.  We were all moved to honor Him, knowingly and unknowingly,  through acts of Christian love. 
 
Because of Tyler, I decided to become a marrow donor and joined the National Marrow Program.  It was exciting to consider what a miracle it would be if it turned out I was a match for him.  It wasn't meant to be.  On December 23, 2005, Tyler received the greatest gift he could hope for.  He got to spend his first Christmas with the One who died for him.  What a blessed homecoming that must have been!
 
In his relatively short time here, Ty had endured the impersonal poking and prodding, months of chemo, homeopathic remedies, a bone marrow transplant and just about every other possible protocol imaginable.  Throughout the process, he only had a few years of good physical health, but his spiritual health was solid as a rock.  Now, in the presence of the Lord, he finally found peace.
 
When we learned of Tyler's passing, Donna lamented that he didn't get to become a minister.  She was wrong.  Tyler had ministered to me.  He and his mother had helped restore my faith through their witness and example.  They lived the Word and shared it with everyone they came in contact with.  They, along with my loving, devoted wife had helped make some difficult times more bearable.
 
Some with an attention span like mine might say this has been a long, drawn out story.  That's OK.  It came from the heart and if you're still here, you may be wondering if this message was meant for you.  The short answer is:  It was.
 
That's what Christians do.  We spread the Word that all may know the divine love of God and His Grace.  He is the real author of this story.  He gave it to me to give to you.  With a cut off age of sixty one, I only have a couple more years of eligibility to donate marrow.  As of this time, there have been no calls, but maybe its not God's will to be called.  Maybe His plan was fulfilled by using this story to call you.
 
There are lots of people out there in need of the gift of eternal life that only Christ can give.  In a similar way, there are lots of Tylers out there waiting for the gift of life that only you can give.  If you haven't signed on to become a marrow donor, please consider it.  Your decision to help another child of God through their struggle is one you won't regret.  You can get started by contacting the National Marrow Program or your local Red Cross blood donor center for more information.  Oh, and one more thing - tell them Jesus sent you.
 
Here is the contact information:
 
National Marrow Donor Program
1-800-336-3363
 
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For Tyler, Now This Is Christmas!

There are no words to adequately describe the humbling experience of learning a seriously ill little child is praying for you.  It reminded me of how Jesus, on the cross, petitioned His Heavenly Father to forgive those who "know not what they do".  In a similar fashion, Tyler, in the midst of his own suffering, was filing an appeal with God for blessings on my behalf.  Well, slap me silly!  Tyler was praying for me. How do you like that?
 
A couple more years passed and we were coming into the fall season.  It was a cool day with clear skies and clean air - Saturday, a perfect day to relax.  The phone rang and a woman on the other end asked for me.  She knew about my sign business and went on to ask if I was an artist too, which I am.  She had a dilemma on her hands and was hoping I could help her.  She described how the secularists were once again rumbling about the Nativity scene being part of the "Holiday Display" on the town common.  She feared they would get their way and Jesus would be banished from His own birthday celebration.  The very idea upset her son terribly and she was wondering if I could make a Creche for their front yard.  She was willing to pay for it.
 
After listening to her story, I became a little suspicious and asked: "Is this Donna?"  We had never spoken before.  She answered in the affirmative and I asked why she didn't identify herself in the beginning.  She told me she "didn't want any special consideration".  Well, if anyone was worthy of special consideration, it was her.  I agreed to look into what we could do and get back to her if the town didn't come through. But I didn't get back to her.  Another scheme had hatched and I decided to make one anyway.
 
The Creche was simply made of plywood cutouts, maybe 2' high, of the Holy Family along with the Magi and a few critters.  The images were created from sketches I had made of the Nativity display in my town.  They were painted up and designed to assemble easily onto a plywood base panel.  It all came together pretty well.
 
To our great pleasure, the town where Donna's family lived allowed the Manger Scene to be part of its display that year, but I had already done one up for Tyler.  Perhaps a week or so before Christmas, my dear wife made some fudge and we headed off to Donna's house for a surprise visit to deliver our gifts.  When we arrived, the family was just piling into their van for a journey across town to visit with friends.  They looked warry as we walked up the driveway, surely wondering who we were and what we were up to.  After introducing ourselves, you would have thought we were family they hadn't seen in years.  Donna's eyes opened wide with surprise and she smiled with joy.  She hugged us and couldn't stop apologizing for not being able to stay and visit with us, but that didn't matter. We had an agenda.
 
We stopped to say hello to Tyler, who was already in the van.  He was bundled up in a snow suit and he looked a little like the Michellin Man.  I soon realized the suit was deceiving.  Tyler's face was puffy from what we presumed to be some medication he may have been taking and I sensed he was a little embarrassed by his appearance.  Admittedly, it was disturbing to see him that way, but we assured him of our love and concern and that we would continue to keep him in our prayers.  Patricia gave them her special fudge. We learned later that fudge was one of their favorite things in the whole world.  Donna thanked us repeatedly and the whole family waved good-by as we returned to our car and quetly drove away.
 
Of course, we still had the other gift in the back of the wagon.  The wagon was an '81 Buick Electra a dear friend had given me, but that's a story in itself.  We turned the corner at the end of the street and proceeded slowly down the road and watched as the family van disappeared in our mirror.  After being sure they had left, we turned around, went back to the house and set up the Nativity on their front porch, practically giddy the whole time.  It was pure fun.
 
We came home that night, after shopping, to find a message on our answering machine from Donna.  It was a tearful "thank you", filled with love and appreciation.  The Nativity was a hit and it brought great joy to Tyler.  Pat and I were warmed by Donna's message and felt a sense of deep spiritual satisfaction about what had just happened.  God had given us the ability to lift up a little boy who had made such a difference in our lives.  In honoring him, we honored God.  The metaphor was all too clear and we couldn't help but think.....
 
Now, this is Christmas!
 
 
To be concluded..........
 
 
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For Tyler, I Pray For You.

In the days following Christmas, 1993, things got a little better.  Donna's Christmas greeting had lifted my spirits and shed a new light on just how far from God I had strayed.  We shouldn't be surprised how messed up our lives can become when we stop trusting Him.  It was time to repent, but as I came to realize, its always time to repent.
 
It was time to tell my Heavenly Father how sorry I was, even though He already knew.  The guilt was mine to own and I thanked Him for reminding me of His love for me.  I thanked Him for my beautiful wife and children and promised to never take them, or Him for granted again.
 
Soon after, I sent a letter of thanks to Tyler's mother and told her how much her greeting had meant to me.  To my surprise, she responded with another letter revealing more information about Tyler and how God gave them the strength to deal with it all.  She continued to witness to us in every letter or greeting that followed, and there were many to come in the years ahead.
 
After our initial contact, I shared with Donna the difficulties we faced with our sign business in a shambles.  She kept us informed of Tyler's progress.  We promised to pray for each other; she for blessings on our business and I for Ty's health and God's mercy on her family. 
 
Months later, we learned that Tyler's cancer had returned and he faced another grueling round of chemo.   Still, he endured the discomfort and we began to see the love of God at work in this little boy. 
 
Tyler rallied once more.  Again Donna told us of his miraculous recovery and how good God is.  In one letter, she told us that Tyler had decided he wanted to be a minister when he grew up.  It wasn't a great surprise that the son of such a faithful and God fearing mother would come to know God as the giver of life and all things good and wonderful.  What a great testimony this little one would have to share one day, I thought.  Of course, his testimony was being lived out every day for those who would listen.
 
A few years had passed since we first saw Tyler's story.  Each Christmas we would receive a card from Donna with an update on Tyler's progress.  I looked forward to those messages because depression still haunted me, especially at Christmas time.  One would think I hadn't learned my lesson and the greetings were like small reminders that God was still there.
 
Tyler's leukemia came and went and came and went.  Each time, Donna praised God for His mercy and shared with us the latest developments.  She let us know all the little strides her son made in life.  She let us know when Ty was finally strong enough to start school.  She sent photos and letters and always, always gave all honor and glory to our Almighty God.  I was amazed at her ability to continue walking with the Lord as she undoubtedly lived with the fear that this terrible disease would come for her son yet again.  And it did, but Tyler was a fighter. 
 
One day, we got a letter in the mail.  Donna sent along a picture Ty had drawn in brightly colored crayon.  He was probably about eight or nine and the chemo had wreaked havoc on his little body.  The picture and penmanship revealed that his motor skills lagged a little behind his age group, but that didn't matter.  As they say: "It's the thought that counts".  And so it was.  I'm sad to say that I don't remember what the picture was, but his words said it all.  This little boy, who had endured unimaginable pain and sickness, gave me a glimpse of Christ on the cross.  He had very carefully and deliberately scratched out a message that I will never forget.... 
 
I pray for you.
Love,
Tyler
 
 
To be continued..........
 
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For Tyler, The Life Ring That Came In The Mail

The Christmas season was upon us in the year of 1993.  We were three years into a terrible economic downturn.  The real estate markets were suffering the effects of a bursting bubble and banks and lending institutions around the country were folding their tents.  People everywhere found themselves upside down with home and business mortgages.  Businesses where closing at an alarming rate, leaving those depending on them in a very bad way.  I was one of them.
 
My business had lost two of our biggest clients that had been around for decades.  One had been in business for nearly fifty years, the other, one hundred.  It couldn't have come at a worse time.  My wife and I had just leveraged our home against a commercial venture that was supposed to build a better life and add to our future retirement portfolio.  We bought land and put up a nice new building where I could apply my skills and become established, so to speak.  With the loss of those two customers, it was all in peril.
 
If this has never happened to you, consider yourself blessed.  My days were filled with stress and my nights were filled with dread for the next day.  Every day I went to work hoping that would be the day it would all turn around.  By the end of the day, I knew that wouldn't happen and all I had to hope for was tomorrow. But tomorrow wouldn't be the day either.  A feeling of hopelessnes began to take over and I was in a deep depression.
 
A great friend of mine recently pointed out that men tend to evaluate themselves based on what they are able to provide.  His words were right on and reminded me of what I felt when I was drowning in debt and unable to keep up.  Certainly, I was unable to provide much and my self esteem was suffering from it.  Indeed, my world was crumbling before my eyes and there was no part of my life that wasn't reeling from the effects of that economic meltdown.  Business and personal relationships were strained and sadly, even my relationship with God was effected by this three year war that had all but sucked the life out of me.  It was a very dark time when even a trip to the mailbox only brought more pain.  Until one day...
 
A couple of days before Christmas we received a card in the mail from someone who would change my life.  The card was from the mother of a little boy who's story we had read months before in the local paper.  It was a great human interest story of how this beautiful little four year old had been diagnosed with leukemia, which was then in remission after months of chemo-therapy.  In the article, the mother was giving all honor and glory to God for the miracle of her son's recovery.  She wasn't the least bit intimidated by the secular movement that seemed to be gaining traction in the public square.  There she was, out front witnessing for God right there on the front page of the newspaper!
 
I had found the story a refreshing change from all the bad news that typically dominates the headlines and was moved to write a letter to the editor thanking the paper for printing the story and praising the boy's mother for her testimony.  Tyler's mother, Donna, had seen my letter and sent this Christmas greeting to thank me for it.  With the card, she included a picture of Tyler and his sister, Jenna and added a little more information about what the family had gone through. 
 
I was floored that she would go to such lengths to thank a total stranger for doing something that only seemed natural to me.  But this wasn't your typical "thank you" note.  This woman, who obviously knew God well, spoke in the language of the saints and her love for Him radiated from the page.  It may seem silly, but it felt as though I had received a Christmas card from Jesus, Himself.  A light had come on and yours truly was suddenly wondering how I could have been so blind.
 
In the midst of my misery and self pitty, I had overlooked God's greatest gifts.   Certainly, my problems were nothing compared to Donna's. I had been blessed with a wonderful wife and healthy children and my ungrateful attitude was brought into crystal clear focus through her gracious message.  She had, perhaps unknowingly, become an instrument of the Lord.  Though I was lost, He found me.  He pulled me from the depths of depression with a life ring that came in the mail.
 
To be continued..........
 
 
 
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Christmas Blues?

Are you having trouble getting into the spirit of the season?  For many of us, its been a little tougher this year because we're all stressed out about our finances.  In good times we're freewheeling through Christmas, buying tons of gifts for those we love and, lets be honest, it feels good when we give to others.  But what about those bad times when we are forced to tighten our belts and do with less?
 
Our mood may be low because we can't afford that perfect gift for someone we love and we don't want them to be disappointed.  Somehow, we equate our value with that of our gift.  In our minds, if the gift is meager, so are we.  This is what happens when we place so much emphasis on the gift and forget all about the reason we give in the first place.
 
Three wise men once brought gifts to the baby, Jesus.  They were precious gifts fitting for the newborn King.  But there were others that day who had nothing to give.  Poor shepherds in fields fell to their knees when angels brought the news that a Savior was born.  All they had to offer the King of Kings were hearts full of thanks and love.  To God, hearts like theirs were more precious than gold and they still are today. 
 
We've lost sight of what's important and hard times can be used by God to rearrange our priorities.  We've focused our attention on the things that are of this world and forgotten about the most precious gift ever.  Rich or poor, God sent His love to us through His Son, Jesus.  He was God's gift to us.  It was a gift of love divine.  That love is enough.  Its always been enough and all He wants from us is our love in return.
 
I wish you God's love this Christmas.
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God, Grace and Grandchildren

Last spring, a little girl signed up for the town softball league.  I'll call her Mary.  She was only seven and a tad small compared to the rest of the girls on the team, but she proved herself rather quickly, batting and fielding balls like she'd done it all her life.  Mary's family loved to go to the games and watch her play and establish relationships with her team mates.
 
Mary's mom and dad had inflexible work schedules and the duty of getting her to practice on Tuesdays fell on her grandfather. It was a job he cherished.  It meant he got to spend a little more time one on one with this child he loves so much.  Before practice, they'd go to her favorite restaurant where granddad would buy her a Happy Meal.  Grandpa didn't get anything, knowing his loving wife would have dinner ready when he got home. 
 
Now, Mary's grandfather adored all his grandchildren and would give them the world, if he could.  Certainly, there was nothing he wouldn't do for them and he often referred to them as "the reason he lived".  They truly add a special meaning to his life that goes beyond words.
 
One Tuesday, Mary and her granddad were sitting at this restaurant and they were talking as granddad watched Mary eat.  Those fries looked good, he thought, and let his fingers do the walking across the wrapper in an attempt to grab one.  Mary saw it coming and with a playfully defiant grin, wrapped her arms around her treasure.  No sir, she wasn't going to share, not even with her grandfather.  After a brief struggle, granddad came away with a golden french fry, but the moment revealed a special meaning and he was struck by the metaphor he had just witnessed.  In Mary's mind, those fries were hers, never stopping to realize that she wouldn't have had them if her grandfather hadn't bought them for her in the first place.
 
Isn't that how many of us treat God?  We cling to our earthly treasures and deny Him a portion of what is rightfully His.  Far too often we take for granted the blessings we receive and fail to give thanks to the one who provides them.
 
Lord, thank you for all you have given us and continue to give by your grace.  Would you like some fries?
 
 
 
 
 
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