The Office Christmas Party
Therefore,
my beloved brethren,
be ye
steadfast, unmoveable,
always
abounding in the work of the Lord,
forasmuch
as ye know that your labour
is not in
vain in the Lord.
--
1 Corinthians 5:58
For nearly
30 years, we've been going to the office Christmas party. It's hard for me, married
to the boss, to display dignified social graces as the Lady Bountiful, when I'd
rather be out there dirty-dancing and telling booger jokes. I'm also
fashion-impaired, clueless over how to look appropriately boss' wifelike. I
usually settle for the under-the-radar Barbara Bush look, without the big
pearls; they make my teeth look like pondwater.
These
parties have all been fun, but last night's was extra-special. It started last
week when I heard a message on Christian radio about 1 Corinthians 8:9-13 -- don't
do stuff that might tempt others to do bad things, even if they're good for you.
The radio preacher said Christians shouldn't drink alcohol at office Christmas
parties, because there'll be people there struggling with alcoholism. Whoops!
I've gotten schnockered at these events a few times over the years. But no
more. Resolved: Diet Coke for me.
We got to
the party. I told one group I was stumped for a gift idea for my husband. Turns
out a guy at the table is addicted to smoking. It's not what you think: he has
a meat smoker. Eureka! My husband got one last year, but has never used it. Thanks
to the guy's advice, I now know what to get him: a PORK BUTT. He'll be the only
one on the block who's getting one!
Next, one
of my fellow spouses was saying how she had been racking her brain for
something great to do with her extended family. She had always wanted to go to
the elaborate Christmas program at a local mega-church. But she needed nine
tickets, and it had been sold out for weeks.
Here came
another spouse, whom she had counseled by telephone recently about a problem,
but had never met face-to-face. The problem was resolved. The two women chatted.
Then, out of the blue, the other one said, "Would you happen to be able to use some
tickets to the Westside Baptist show tomorrow?"
"Oh, my
gosh, yes . . . but it's impossible. We need nine tickets."
"We HAVE
nine tickets!"
A couple
she knew and their seven children weren't able to go, and gave them to her. She
couldn't go, either.
Not eight!
Not 10! But NINE!
I joined
them. The woman told me she had been an alcohol and drug addict since her teens,
nearly died from methamphetamine, but got born again and is now drug-free. She
praised Jesus Christ for the miracle. I gave her a hug . . .
. . . and
was soooooooooo glad I didn't have any booze on my breath.
Sadly, her 20-year-old
daughter also got hooked on meth, and now faces a drug conspiracy charge with a
possible sentence of 10 years to life in prison. Pretty stark.
The mom told
the daughter that with God's help, she would keep her out of prison.
The
daughter replied: "If that happens, I will believe in God."
The mom
wrote the judge a letter begging him to consider a faith-based diversion
program instead of prison. It lasts for 18 months and has a success rate (no
relapse for seven years) of 84% in other states. It would be a first in that
court.
Besides
asking people to pray, the mom said she was desperate to find people who know
that judge who'd be willing to endorse the idea to him. Sentencing is days away.
I got
tingles. "I have a close friend who works for another judge on that bench," I
said. "I'll make a call."
Her jaw
dropped. Her face: was every lightbulb in the place shining out of it?
We all got
our needs met. Pork butts . . . nine tickets . . . hope and joy . . . who knew
all that, and more, was available at the office Christmas party?
'Course,
when you work for the REAL Boss, you never clock out, and the productivity
never stops. †