In a zip the red sports car appeared from behind some slow-moving traffic and approached our bearing as we attempted to turn left for a gas station amid a trickle of vehicles behind us and jammed up beside us on our right. There was nowhere to go but straight into the oncoming motorist, so I braked to halt the collision and had a sudden, wild idea that my right leg, which was firmly planted on the brake, could somehow ward off the potential wreck as if by itself and apart from the brake. I'm unsure of how the other driver thought and felt, but I am sure that he had no intention of crashing into us, for just as quickly as the danger appeared, it disappeared in one swift and red-blurred swerve. It was a close call.

Regular encounters with dangerous situations occur not only in cities but also in nature. Lightning strikes, flash floods, and tornadoes are just a few examples. We can draw many more from our lives, thanking God when He saves us from close calls. Yet it’s not just the physical world that can pose a threat. Often, in a more subtle way, the spiritual world can do the same, and when it does, much of the soul can be afflicted with a peculiar blindness. In the physical world, light is necessary for nearly every activity. In the spiritual world, light is necessary too, so long as it is derived from Jesus, “light of the world” (John 8:12, NLT). One can be blinded by the right sort of light, as Paul was on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:9), but also by the wrong sort of light, for “even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light” (2 Corinthians 11:14). Our fiery dispositions and desires can also be artificial lights and lead to dancing flames of eternal damnation (Revelation 21:8).

Our peculiar affliction has been with us since Genesis when Adam and Eve rejected God in favor of serpent-like lies. We once had a pure nature and so eyes that could properly see. Now we have a sinful nature and “see through a glass, darkly” (1 Corinthians 13:12, KJV). Often we stumble into the wide unknown and need rescuing when we are spent and blank on ideas. As Moses lifted outstretched arms at the battle against the Amalekites to ensure a military victory, so too did Jesus ensure the spiritual victory when He was stretched and nailed to the cross. For “even though we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead” (Ephesians 2:5, NLT).

During the dark winter days of December, Christmas reminds us that God works in the close calls. From angelic explanations given in the dead of night to a well-meaning but misguided Joseph, to outcast shepherds wonderfully invited to the Savior’s birth, to the King of kings’ unlikely poor entry into the world—we are joyfully treated to God’s providential care from one close call to another. At times there is no greater gift.

In 1913, a young man by the name of John Bott thanked train-master of Chicago and Alton, J. J. Butler, for saving his life. Here is the story:

“In 1896, when Mr. Butler was a fireman on the same road, he was horrified one morning to see a child standing between the rails. The engineer applied the air-brakes but was unable to stop the train in time. Like a flash, Butler went through the cab window, passed swiftly to the lower step of the pilot, and, holding on with one hand, he reached down with the other, lifting the baby out of danger. That baby was John Bott, who, as he became older, had a growing feeling of gratitude for the one who had rescued him from his perilous position” (Illustrative Incidents for Public Speakers, 1915).

Just as Butler was resolved to save John, so John was resolved in showing gratitude. Jesus saves and redeems in close calls. He is resolved in His efforts and love for you and me. There lies the truth and meaning behind Christmas.

. . .

As a sort of appendix, let’s finish this particular post by peering into 2026. Another John comes to mind when I think about the end of this year and contemplate the new one: John the Baptist. He was a great man of resolve, lived in the wild as an unknown, and yet preached to all. Even his enemies wanted to be around him. Whether he was loved or hated, John was firmly resolved to announce Jesus to the world. He preached a message of repentance and salvation (Luke 3:3–14). John did so because he personally knew something of the Savior. The close calls of life may at times have deterred him, even confused him (Luke 7:20), but they did not thwart his resolve. End the year with celebration and festivities in worship to Jesus! Then, when you’ve rested and regained your strength, start next year with the greatest resolve. Look to Jesus and grow. Consider joining one of our Spiritual Growth Groups, where we’ll equip you with the best spiritual tools that can be readily deployed and stored as life permits (email us here for more information: fcogtulare@gmail.com). It’s a great time to grow, especially when the new year approaches and you know at least something of Jesus.

May God’s saving grace in the close calls give you hope,

Pastor Aaron