A Word for Christmas 2015

   As I looked through some of the pictures from this past Christmas, one word came to my mind to symbolize this special season:

GENEROSITY

   One of our friends began this whole experience with this fresh gift for our front door:

   Even when the kumquats fell off, it was still great.

   Then a church friend invited us for Christmas breakfast, egg and sausage casserole and home made sticky buns. Yum.

   A new friend and new neighbor next door invited us for dinner that afternoon, a great meal that began with this delicious soup.

   And food that I could not show because all the was left were the empty plates, came from our condo neighbor above us. While we were next door enjoying dinner, they made up plates of delicious food and put them in our refrigerator. We would enjoy Christmas cheer for a couple more days with those.

   God blessed us with great Christmas weather that we enjoyed in short sleeves. I'm sure that those less fortunate celebrated it with even greater gusto. Winter?

   And how about the generosity of the folks in our church, who gave over and above to meet the needs of people in this congregation. It was amazing to tally up that money that we would distribute in the way of paying bills for folks, and helping them take care of their families.

   Yes, in this season of Christmas 2015, God was present in all of the above. The wise men came to see the baby Jesus that first Christmas, but now the manger is empty.

   But God's greatest gift is celebrated in the cross that rises over churches across our world. The cross is also empty, but its occupant still lives and guides Christians everywhere as they honor Him.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

   We just cannot outgive God..

   And I am Thankful...
 

A Ceramic Lesson For Me...

    There seems to come the time before Christmas that we realize we don't really know what gifts to get for our grandchildren. They are growing up so far away from us that shopping for that perfect gift does  not seem an option.

   But we want to give something so that they know that we still love them and want to be involved in their lives. We don't want to be forgotten.

   So we take the easy way out, or, at least, I did this year.

   There are emails from St. Simons to each of the 3 mothers of these 9 kids. They all contain the question:

   "What can we get for your kids this year that they need and will appreciate?"

   The replies come back, either specific items, or they point to a wish list that they have generated on Amazon.com.

   So, from the comfort of my own chair, I go to Amazon and send out 9 gifts, all gift wrapped and personalized with a Christmas greeting, all mailed to a grandson or granddaughter. All delivered on time for opening on that special day.

   The day after Christmas, Saturday, we were preparing to eat breakfast and Granny Lou told me she wanted her coffee in the special mug she had received from one of her granddaughters.

   As I looked at the hand painted mug, I seemed to feel the love that went into that project, and I was ashamed that I had put so little thought into our gifts this year.

   Sure it was easy, and maybe the only way we could get gifts they wanted or needed, but where was  love involved?

   Gifts, like the ones I sent out, can be easily forgotten, and, as the kids grow up, they will be, but I know that every time Granny Lou has her coffee, she will treasure this expression of love. It was "Purrfect". It will be used gently and be a reminder for both of us.

   And I wonder what God feels when we treat the Gift of His Son in an uncaring attitude, when we use Christmas as a season for everything else except gratitude for what He did for us?

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."

   God gave, and He gave in love for me and for you.

   That mug is my reminder.

 



 

 

Songs of Christmas?

 

   Last Sunday we sang a song.

   Now, to me, singing is a great part of Christmas. I love the old carols, and they evoke great memories of days gone by. It is the way Christmas ought to be celebrated.

   But, I thought, as we sang this one; "what has this to do with the Holiday?"

   It begins with the words of an older hymn:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus name

   Then comes the refrain:

Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Saviour's love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all

   I woke up with this running through my mind this morning and thought about that refrain again.

   Especially that second line:

Weak made strong; 

   And then I see a connection…No person is more vulnerable, i.e. weaker, than a newborn lying there in a manger.

   Even a King

   And I think; no person is at his strongest until his life is wrapped in those swaddling clothes and his voice can repeat that refrain:

Christ alone; cornerstone
Weak made strong; in the Saviour's love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all

   Let's Celebrate…He is Lord,

   Lord of All

   MERRY CHRISTMAS

 

 

I Just Don't Understand...

   "Welcome to the 21st century, Dad."

   Words spoken by my youngest son the other night as we concluded my first ever Skype session over the Internet.

   We had been bemoaning the fact that we could not see all those kids out in California over the Christmas holidays. Doug's family was on sabbatical for a year way out there, and it was just too far for us to go right now. So, knowing that the computer I was using was his old one and that it had the Skype program installed on it, he suggested that we try to hook up that way for a video chat.

   So, we did.

   He could lead me through the right buttons to push, and we ended up watching and listening to that family 3,000 miles away, but I really don't understand how it all happened. I accept that it is possible and actually did happen, but am left wondering how and why it all came about.

   Most every morning for the past couple of weeks, I have read and thought about the Christmas Story as recorded in Luke 2. I have wondered about the people involved, what their lives were like before and after that night with the angels and the star.

   The verse from a Christmas Carol comes to mind:

   I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

   I accept the account from the Gospels and believe that it all happened that way, but I am still left to wonder all of the whys.

   I see those packages under the tree, all wrapped up with tags and bows. I see a package with my name on it, and I wonder what it contains.

   God, out of His love for us, gave us His Christmas Gift 2,000 years ago.

   And in the early morning, out under a dark cloudy sky, I still wonder.

   And I pray that God might break through the clutter and glitter of this Christmas season with a fresh awareness of His goodness and provision for all of us.

   And that all that Wonder would be a prelude to pure Joy.

   And that the Carol that all of us can sing with gusto will be:

   Joy to the world! The Lord is come.
Let earth receive her King
Let every heart
Prepare Him room
And Saints and angels sing
And Saints and angels sing
And Saints and Saints and angels sing

A Quiet Hour on Christmas Day

   The headline on the front page of the Brunswick News this Friday morning, one week before Christmas, stated "A Season to Remember". Now they were speaking of the run of the local football team to the state of Georgia championship game last week, but the words just fit in with my thoughts of  Christmas.

   I made a connection with an old friend on Facebook yesterday. He and his family had been with us in Chattanooga at a church we both attended for many years, a church our kids grew up in, and one that holds many memories for us.

   As I look back through the years to our time there, special Christmas memories flash through my brain, but I stop and focus on one in particular, one that still evokes the true meaning of the Holiday for me.

   When J. Ralph McIntyre was pastor of our church, we used to have a service on Christmas afternoon.

   Now Christmas Day is a busy time, especially for a family with kids, and there are family dinners, presents to be looked into, travel, and just relaxation, things that call loudly for our participation.

   As the church doors were opened in the middle of Christmas Day, people put aside all that had gone on before that hour, and gathered in the sanctuary for a simple service of carols, communion and candles.

   No choir, no sermon, no elaborate program.

   An organ for the congregational singing of familiar carols, the elements of bread and juice served in the quiet, and the lighting of individual candles throughout the pews.

   Quiet time for reflection, a sense of people who wanted to be there, time taken out of a busy day for the purpose of worship.

   A sense of reverent joy in the advent.

   I remember this as I sit today, and I smile.

   Christmas is Special

   May it also be this time around.

   “Glory to God in the highest,
And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!” 

"Listen to what I say"

   There is a danger in being too simplistic.

   And what I thought of this morning runs that danger.

   But it seems to fit.

   I watched the debate on TV last night, and the one overall impression I got out of it before I got tired and went to bed, was:

   8 men and 1 woman talking at the same time trying to get their point across.

   And this morning I thought of a Christmas carol and the three questions and one command contained in those 4 stanzas.

   "Do you see what I see?"

   "Do you hear what I hear?"

   "Do you know what I know?"

   And lastly:

   "Listen to what I say!"

   The picture that comes to my mind as I think about that debate stage last night was a shot of the moderator trying to ask a question and the many voices in the background calling for attention to be heard. I could make out some of the things said but mostly it was just the sound of 9 voices crying "Listen to what I say!"

   In Luke 2, the Bible gives an account of people speaking and listening. The angels spoke and sang and the shepherds heard. Simeon spoke, and Mary and Joseph heard. Anna spoke, and people listened and heard.

   I think of that E.F. Hutton commercial from years back that showed a room full of noise and all of a sudden one person mentioned the brokerage firm's name, and everyone stopped and listened for what was going to be revealed.

   In Luke 2 God speaks, and we need to stop and listen.

   Maybe we could find a leader who fits verse 52,  one that does not have to shout:

"Jesus grew in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and all the people."

It Happens in the Ordinary

   As I read again the Christmas Story in Luke 2, the extraordinary event of the angels appearing to the shepherds catches my thoughts, and I see anew the wonder and excitement those men must have felt on the night so long ago. How could they ever be the same? Were they?

   They were the very definition of "ordinary people".

   They probably even talked to the sheep. I wonder if they told those animals all about what they found in the town of Bethlehem.

   When I think about how God, through his angels, broke into their lives that night, I think, "I wish He would do that for me, right now, tonight, tomorrow, sometime this Season".

   My thoughts kind of drift along this morning as I have time in this quiet spot, and I remember a story.

   It is a short story by Leo Tolstoy called The Shoemaker's Christmas, and you can read it here:

   http://access2ministry.blogspot.com/2010/12/shoemakers-christmas.html

   The man had a dream that the Savior would visit him the next day, and he was thrilled at the prospect of a grand extraordinary event happening in his humble shop.

   But, alas, the only folks he saw on the street out his little window were ordinary. So he just saw their needs and invited them to enter and rest and get warm, while he continued to wait for his Special Guest to come by.

   You know the end. He was disappointed when his dream was not realized in the way he visualized it, but, as he sat in that empty room, his mind was awakened with the vision of the ordinary people he had ministered to that day.

   And then the familiar words:

"At last, out of the silence, Father Martin heard again the gentle voice repeating the old familiar words. “Whosoever shall receive one such in My name, receiveth Me…for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat; I was athirst, and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took Me in…verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto Me.”

   Isn't it true for us as well? We look for a great event that we can proudly tell to everyone, one that has entered our lives in a very special and extraordinary way.

   But aren't we called to live our lives where we are placed? To serve people in the ordinary paths that we walk, and to be the hands and feet of Christ where we are and when He calls.

   It may be our neighbors, our friends, those at our church or at our work.

   It may the poor, the marginalized.

   It may be to give our money to those who minister in His Name all around the world.

   But it may be to just love those He has placed in our care, and to share with those who pass at our door.

   The world may call it "ordinary", but it is much more than that.

   And the Angels sing for us and for those we serve.

   We just need to see them, really see them as God does.

   He sees no "ordinary" people…

   There is no "ordinary" Day...

Returning to the Past

   I wrote the other morning about the act of returning as I found it in the Christmas Story in Luke Chapter 2. I had determined to read this account of Jesus' birth each morning till Christmas Day in an attempt to recapture some of the awe and wonder of that "God coming to earth" time in human history.

   And I have read for the past 6 mornings, and I have pondered the story with its shepherds and angels and the baby in the manger, and it has been good to do so. It is so easy to just pass this off as some Christmas tradition and not stop to really think and be thankful for God's provision.

   But, if I am honest, a lot of the days have ended up in the remembering of Christmas memories. After all, I have spent a bunch of December 25ths on this planet, and there are several things that have come to mind.

   One picture that my minds sees is that of citrus fruit. Oranges, tangerines, grapefruit and even kumquats.

   I guess a lot of that stemmed from being in the produce business for 25 years or so. It was a big season for us then. I remember going out and getting orders from customers for their needs in this season of year. Grocery stores would look back at what sold the year before and try to anticipate what the public would do in the current year.

   Needs would be forecast to keep the shelves stocked, and these forecasts would be formed into truck loads for future delivery. Transportation would be secured for each load and brought to market at the desired time.

   It was a busy time and there was always the stress of making sure that the whole enterprise happened as planned. Most of these items came out of Florida, and, even though the trip wouldn't take more than two days from pick to delivery, things happened. 

   Trucks failed to show to pick up. Trucks broke down in route. Wrong quantities were loaded and sometimes orders showed up at the wrong warehouse. There were many opportunities for error.

   Regardless of the type of error, wrong stuff, wrong amounts, wrong day of delivery, missing trucks or what, these all ended up on the desk of the broker who had put it all together. That was us.

   Even if it all eventually worked out and all the loads got into the correct warehouses, sometimes the forecasts by the buyers did not match the wants of the eventual customers in the stores. Then we would try to find out who had extra of this and that, and match it with who needed what. 

   Although this was a month long process, it did not end until a couple of days before Christmas. We scurried practically until we closed on Christmas Eve.

   As I lived through all of this, I often thought about the fact that the busyness of the business kept us all from getting into and keeping the true meaning of the Day. I looked forward to the period when I could actually spend time thinking of the whole Christmas Story and its meaning in my life.

   I thought, "when that time comes, I will really be worshipful without the stress of citrus fruit and customers and truckers in my life".

   That time came, and I still struggle to keep Christ in Christmas. My mind and heart seem ready, but life still happens, and I am easily distracted. Even the memories that surface while I sit here in the quiet take me away from my purpose.

   So I reread the Luke account again and again, and I will hopefully be here tomorrow to read it anew, and I will pray that God will break into my thoughts and lead me to the place of worship again.

   The Christmas Story is a life-changer, and that is what I want to celebrate this year.

   "Come O Come Emmanuel"

Men Keeping Sheep...

   Looking at our manger scene and picturing it before the wise men entered the picture (if they indeed got there this early in the narrative), I see it looking like this:

   Mary, Joseph, Jesus and the shepherds and their animal charges.

   Those shepherds, however many there were at this event, whatever their ages, only appear in this one portion of the story as told in the Bible. They are not named. They seem only props.

   Shepherds, one of the lowest occupations in that time.

   Shepherds, not high on any guest list.

   Shepherds, maybe not outcasts, but definitely not welcome in a lot of places.

   Yet God knew them. They were the first at the manger. They heard angels sing. They were real men with lives and souls that mattered to God Himself.

   And they told the news to all they met.

   They led lives after the grand nighttime event, and I wonder what might those years look like.

   They may never have traveled far from the Bethlehem area. Did they ever see the Messiah again? Did they die before seeing the whole story or live through the time of the crucifixion and resurrection?

   What did they think about what they had seen and heard? Did the memory stay fresh in their lives or fade away as time went on?

   People no doubt sought them out to hear their story at first, but how believable were they as the years passed? Did they wonder about it all?

   Life expectancy was not all that long in that day, and perhaps they did not live long enough to see the end of that earthly story.

   The Bible brings them into the narrative and then they walk off, stage right, to disappear.

   Only questions and speculations are left for us as we think of them.

   Maybe, in heaven one fine day, I'll get a chance to meet and ask.

Returning to the Past and the Present...

   This morning, as the quiet of the house enveloped me, and I just sat and enjoyed it, I seemed to be directed to make my early morning times for the days leading up to Christmas a time of going back and re-reading the Christmas Story as told in Luke Chapter 2.

2 And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.

   Anytime we hear that opening verse read aloud, we go back in our minds and know what is coming afterwards.

   It is so easy to get caught up in the bustle, and even the worry that accompanies this Holiday, that I felt the need to go back to the source and remember what is said in those verses of this chapter of Luke.

   And as I read again the story of the birth of The Christ, a word seemed to stand out. A word that I knew was there but also was overlooked by me in the many times of hearing and reading.

   From the New Living Translation of Luke 2:

3 All returned to their own ancestral towns to register for this census. 

15 When the angels had returned to heaven, 

20 The shepherds went back(returned) to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. 

22 Then it was time for their purification offering, as required by the law of Moses after the birth of a child; so his parents took him(returned) to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord.

39 When Jesus’ parents had fulfilled all the requirements of the law of the Lord, they returned home to Nazareth in Galilee. 

45 When they couldn’t find him, they went back(returned) to Jerusalem to search for him there. 

51 Then he returned to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them.

   And I thought of a verse from Matthew's Gospel, talking about the Magi:

12 When it was time to leave, they returned to their own country by another route, for God had warned them in a dream not to return to Herod.

   Returning indicates a going back. It can be a mental activity or a physical one.

   As I thought of revisiting again the Christmas Story, I was impressed to get out the manger scene that my Mom made and painted years ago. We had put out the tree and a couple of other things, but not this:

   But I will today, both as a reminder of my Mom and as one about the true meaning of the Holy Day.

   Then, as the Magi, I will return to the present day and be obedient to what He has called me to do.

   God help me to not only return to the things You have shown me in the past, but to return to doing what You lead me to do in the present.

 

 

Food, Football and Fun, but Most of All Family

   It has been a few days, but this morning I was thinking about Thanksgiving, maybe one of my favorite holidays.

   We drove to Arkansas for this festive period. As we get older, we keep thinking that we may not be able to do this much longer. The mileage is the same, but the rest stops are more frequent. But, we are still thankful to be able to do it.

   Thanksgiving is all about gratitude. Sure there is Football and there is Fun, and, of course Food…

   Donna took care of the bird, but Noel aced it with the rest.

   But most of all there is Family:

   And that family over across the mighty Mississippi keeps growing up and changing.

   Archer took time out to eat and play games with us, but spent a lot of time and effort with his computer and music scoring program. And he is good.

   Cady Gray and her mom enjoyed each other. (with Peg-Leg Santa)

   Noel, Donna and Cady Gray decorated the tree.

   Sure the weather outside was frightful, and the rain was not all that delightful, but we enjoyed each other.

   We ate a lot, we watched a lot, we played a lot…

   And I even got three wild cards and made my phase one time.

   And Thankful to be together for a time.

   It Was Good



 

 

Where is "Safe"?

   As Mayre and I sat in front of the TV last night and watched the things go on in San Bernadino, CA, we thought "Is there safety anywhere?"

   We don't live in Syria with all of the strife.

   We don't even live in a large American city with gang violence around the corner.

   We live in beautiful St. Simons, on an island, on a quiet street populated by nice people, and even in a gated condo with fences and a gate code.

   Then the phone rang and the message on the TV screen told us that it was the phone at the gate. If someone wants to have us open the gate from our condo, they just press the number listed by our name by the gate, and we can use our phone keypad to open it for them.

   I picked up the phone and heard voices on the other end, but no one evidently heard me say "hello" and they just continued to talk to each other. I knew someone was out there and wanted in, and no doubt they were legitimate, so I pressed the right number on my phone and heard the gate voice say, "access granted, please enter".

   Then I thought, "who in the world did I just open the gate for?"

   I walked downstairs to the garage to see if I could tell who it was and watched as a car came out of the other condo building and exited by the front gate (no code needed, it opens when a vehicle comes up to it from inside.

   There are 42 units in our complex, and everyone home last night never knew that some 'clown' had opened the gate for a unknown person.

   They all thought they, and their belongings, were safe behind the fence and gate.

   We all unthinkingly put our trust in police, in locks, in gates and fences; in guns and in our own abilities.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;

   The only true safety we have.