Chanukkah is a holiday in which we remember what HaShem did for our ancestors by working miracles on their behalf, allowing them to defeat the Syrian armies, and more importantly, Syrian idolatry. In our home, we experienced a Chanukkah miracle of our own, and although it really had nothing to do with fighting assimilation, it has everything to do with G-d demonstrating His faithfulness to His people.
Yesterday, (Monday) I received a call at work from my wife. She told me that our two dogs escaped from our yard, and were nowhere to be found. I was rather disappointed that I had to take half of my remaining vacation time to go search for my fugitive dogs.
Shortly before I got home, I prayed that G-d would give favor in finding the dogs. I drove around to all the places that they have gone before (yes, they have escaped in the past), but to no avail. I called the local Animal Control to have them be on the look out for us as well. (They have always been very cooperative in the past, calling us before they go looking where the dogs have been spotted.)
By nightfall, we had not yet heard from the Animal Control officers, and I was a little concerned for the well-being of the canines because it was supposed to be very cold.
We went about our evening, praying that HaShem would bring the dogs back to us. We lit the menorah, and again, prayed that the dogs would be returned. In the back of my mind, I wanted to pray that G-d would return the dogs while we were sitting around the Menorah talking about His miracles, but I didn’t because I was scared that He wouldn’t come through for me.
Fast-forward a couple of hours. It is 1:30 a.m., and Judah (our 2 year old) wakes up crying because he was cold. He kept kicking his blankets off in his sleep. I got up, covered him up, and went back to bed. A few minutes later, he’s crying again, for the same reason. I covered him up again, and then David (our 6 month old) wakes up crying because he thinks he’s hungry. Finally, I’m almost back to sleep when I hear something scratching downstairs. (By this time, it is nearly 2 a.m., and I’m tired, and starting to get very cranky because I just want to SLEEP!) I got out of bed, thinking, “Is it possible that my dogs are down at the front door?” I walked down the stairs, and peeked out of the window that is by our front door. There were my dogs! I opened the door, and they came running in, like nothing had ever happened.
It must be said that my dogs NEVER come back. They have gotten out as a pair between 5 and 10 times in the last 4 years, and they are usually gone for a couple of days. Once, one was even hit by a car and picked up in the middle of a very busy street. Needless to say, even though I was praying for them to come home, I really didn’t expect it to happen.
G-d cares about our every need, even our pets. He alone is the One who hears and answers prayer, and to Him alone be all blessing, honor, glory and power forever! Baruch HaShem for His goodness and faithfulness.
This last weekend, I had the privilege of attending a memorial service for my grandpa, Paul H. Sweitzer. While it was a sad occasion, it was a privilege for many reasons.
First, I learned that about a year and a half before he died, Grandpa made a commitment to God that truly brought peace to his life. He realized with his heart that through our Messiah, God forgave his sins. How exciting to know that I will again be able to sit with my grandfather and hear his trademarked cackle after he shares something funny.
Secondly, I learned that my grandpa was a true American hero. From the time that I was a young boy, I knew that Grandpa was a gunner in WWII, but I didn’t know anything about where he fought, or the nature of his duty.
Grandpa was a waist gunner in a B-17 bomber, part of the 100th bomb group, in squadron 418. Needless to say, this was a VERY dangerous job. He flew 35 missions, 6 times over Berlin, Germany.
I don’t think that Grandpa was a hero simply because he served our country in such a dangerous capacity. Grandpa was a hero because he loved, and always gave of himself to ensure that those he loved were taken care of. He lived for 40 years with the nightmares of the things he experienced in the war, yet he never complained. Also, when he finally realized that he could not continue in life alone, he reached out to the only One who could bring peace and comfort.
Grandpa, I love you. Thank you for the legacy that you have left me. I am proud for the opportunity to pass these memories to my children!
http://www.100thbg.com/mainmenus/418th/images13/Lischer2.jpg
http://www.100thbg.com/mainmenus/airplanes/airplanes5/1_39_1.jpg
