The Island of Misfit Toys and Other Messages of Christmas

By Gregg Taylor

It's the most wonderful time of the year! For some, maybe. For others, not so much. Amid the songs and smells, jingles and bells, evergreen and wishing you wells, the Christmas season triggers memories of what's been lost and what might have been. For some, the most wonderful time of the year is the most difficult time of the year. If you find yourself there, or if you have friends and family who are there, you're in luck. Against the backdrop of a jingle bell, holly jolly Christmas culture, this honest, touching, and grace-filled book will allow you to be grasped by an authentic Christmas message that connects you to something you have longed to hear for a very long time. Hope. A hope that holds you long after all the lights disappear and there's no more yuletide cheer. With the encouraging heart of a pastor and the calming presence of a friend, Gregg Taylor's root-for-the-underdog, engaging, conversational style is heartfelt, self-revealing, and genuine. As you read, you will find your soul stirred and your experience of Christmas restored.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samizdat Creative
• Release date: Nov 12, 2014

Gregg Taylor

Gregg Taylor is the pastor of Mercy Street, a community in Houston that creates a safe place for the hurt, the lost, and the seeking to experience the radical grace and welcome of God. For more on Mercy Street, link to MercyStreet.org. To listen to Gregg's weekly podcast, subscribe to The Gregg and Jerry Podcast and the Mercy Street podcast on iTunes.

Book preview

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The

Island of

Misfit Toys

and Other Messages

of Christmas

Gregg Taylor

Copyright Gregg Taylor ©2014

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-938633-66-9

Smashwords edition.

Scripture marked NIV are taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2010 by Biblica, Inc.™ www.xulonpress.com.

Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from The Message. Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Thank You…

… Kelly Hall for your attentiveness to detail, encouraging voice, and supportive guidance through the process of trying to publish a book. You’re awesome!

… Richard for your always-helpful, creative input. More than that, thank you for your friendship and our weekly conversations over coffee and oatmeal.

… Jerry for the way you help so many uncover and return to the best version of who they are, including me. You’re a life-giver.

… Matt for our kinship to be, courage to become, and the ever-widening circles of compassion created out of our companionship.

… Kenny and Dawn for making my life richer by inviting me into your stories and now sharing a part of your story with those who read this book.

… to the entire Mercy Street community for the undeserved privilege of being together with you in this journey of grace.

… Amy for being God’s gentle, healing presence in my life for a long time and for a long time to come. It’s progress not perfection. You’re my best friend.

Introduction

It’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving 2010. It’s about 74 degrees, warm, muggy, with a good chance of rain. Welcome to the holiday season in Houston—wear your shorts and flip-flops, and bring a dew-rag to wipe off the sweat.

After climbing the ladder a dozen or so times, pulling boxes and tubs of Christmas decorations out of the attic, dusting them off and taking inventory, I begin the process of ornamenting the front yard with yuletide yard-art. My wife wants me to put those lighted candy canes along the front sidewalk. I hate those things. I feel my blood pressure rise the moment I see them. I can’t remember when we first got them, but now they are held together with duct tape (my favorite tool). For sure it’s time to throw them away. I go to let Amy know my plan to send them to holiday heaven, but I’m overruled and directed back to the yard to make them work.

It doesn’t take long before I realize that parts of the light strands are burned out and I have to use more duct tape to secure the stakes at the bottoms of the canes just so they will stand up straight enough to adorn our walkway. After about an hour of wrestling with these blasted things, I give up. More like I blow up. My rising blood pressure blows a gasket. Frustrated and angry, I tell my wife, Why the hell are we doing this? This is ridiculous! I hate all this! I’m not doing it. None of this has anything to do with Christmas! And then I storm off into the garage in a self-righteous rage to try to fix a short in another strand of lights.

What’s going on with you? I hear my wife’s sweet voice say behind me.

"What