Hallelujah, Light Has Come

This song was playing while my neice Meghan and her family were on their way to Alabama the first time. It touched her and managed to calm her down during this stressful move. I thought it was perfect for Christmas Day. Please hit the arrow to listen to the music while you read on....

Today's post is our group offering to the newborn king. We've all taken our biggest challenges and given thanks for them instead. And for those who suffer this Christmas, know that you are not alone. You are in our hearts and prayers. Holy, holy Christmas all!

-- I am thankful for the really exhausting days with a 5 year old and a 2 year old so that I can appreciate the really good days. *Amie Meschi

-- I am thankful for my lazy, messy children. I have friends with kids who are on drugs, in jail, behavioral problems, unwed parents, and other horrible things; so if all I can complain about is the fact that my kids aren't pulling their weight around here, I have to step back and count my blessings.

-- I'm thankful it's so cold outside, because I have a warm house to go into.

-- I am so incredibly thankful and grateful and blessed to be in a marriage that is centered on Christ... I have had both kinds of marriages and by far a Christ-filled marriage far outweighs the other choice... my husband loves God, loves me and prays for the well being of my children... I couldnt ask for more...A second marriage is very difficult and blending two families into one, especially when the kids are teens, but, again, when God is the center of it, it makes the difficulties bearable. *Cindy Belt

-- I am thankful my house is trashed. . . because the extra mess is from the extra person now living with us fulltime at last, putting his amazing Daddy skills to such good use. *Meg Ferrante

-- I am thankful to live one more winter in this cramped duplex while my husband finishes grad school for what should be a promising career. *Elaina Asay

-- I'm thankful for having been stuck in stand-still traffic for an hour and a half. Had I been on my journey a few minutes earlier I could have been in the accident that caused the backup. Blessings on those actually in the accident. *Anne Mistretta

-- I am so grateful for God’s goodness and timing...I am absolutely certain that He called my husband, Jason, home to be with his family when his Dad took his last breath. Peace in the midst of great sorrow is a blessing for which I am eternally thankful. *Katie Guest

-- I am so grateful for the many losses in my life--and the varied ages and circumstances behind them--for they have prepared me for the work God has called me to. Grief Counseling and support groups… would never have dreamed this was what God had in store! *Barb Kennedy

-- I am thankful for the truth being revealed regarding my husband's infidelity... because it has provided the opportunity (through a wise counselor and God's unending grace and mercy) for us to repair our relationship and to live in truth and authentic intimacy versus lies and false intimacy.

-- It is very busy here, and I am very tired, but I was just thinking (or perhaps it was the Lord gently admonishing me) that I should be thankful for good work to do. *Kelli Sasser

-- Thank you God for the vision before me this morning. Even if they make me unhappy, I will praise You for the extra pounds that make me look more like my Mom and the wrinkles on my face that give me a glimpse of my Dad. But most of all Lord, I am grateful for the fat and wrinkles that reflect my age and the experiences of my life, because they show I have been blessed to live long enough to see my sons married to wonderful wives and my grandchildren come into this world. *Mickie Ferrante

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I AM THANKFUL:

FOR THE TAXES I PAY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM EMPLOYED.

FOR THE MESS TO CLEAN AFTER A PARTY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE BEEN SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS.

FOR THE CLOTHES THAT FIT A LITTLE TOO SNUG
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT.

FOR MY SHADOW THAT WATCHES ME WORK
BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM OUT IN THE SUNSHINE.

FOR A LAWN THAT NEEDS MOWING, WINDOWS THAT NEED CLEANING, AND GUTTERS THAT NEED FIXING BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE A HOME.

FOR THE LADY BEHIND ME IN CHURCH WHO SINGS OFF KEY
BECAUSE IT MEANS I CAN HEAR.

FOR THE PILE OF LAUNDRY AND IRONING
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE CLOTHES TO WEAR.

FOR THE ALARM THAT GOES OFF
IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS
BECAUSE IT MEANS I AM ALIVE.

AND I AM THANKFUL:
FOR THE crazy people I hang with
BECAUSE THEY MAKE IT FUN AND INTERESTING TO BE ALIVE.

AND FINALLY, FOR TOO MUCH E-MAIL
BECAUSE IT MEANS I HAVE FRIENDS WHO ARE THINKING OF ME.

Breath of Heaven

My friend Amy Gottschang told me yesterday that she regrets not finishing her blog piece for this season. She had planned to dissect the song "Breath of Heaven," this beautiful Amy Grant song that is a glimpse inside Mary's mind on the day her child was born. Amy says that specifically, the line in the song that always gets her is, "Breath of heaven... hold me together..." and how no doubt Mary was begging God to help her on that long ride and through the intense labor of childbirth. But more so, how those words are a metaphor for every day of the entire year, to be used by any of us, whenever troubled, any time.

This song (and this video with The Nativity story I found today) are so emotional and beautiful. I can't get through it without tears. (Maybe I should pray for the breath of heaven to hold me together :) -- but they aren't tears of sadness....) Amy, thanks for your wisdom. And for a new prayer this new year!

And for anyone who might be interested in making their Christmas creche really come to life, here is a wonderful procession to the nativity that Barb Kennedy shared. Her family did this for years, walking through the darkened house on Christmas eve, looking for room at the inn. This is a neat way to make a big deal about putting Jesus in the manger to signify the celebration of the night of his birth.

CHRISTMAS EVE PROCESSION TO THE MANGER

All gather in a darkened room. Lit candles are carried by each person.
One person/child carries the infant figure: others are assigned speaking
roles. Procession moves about house through darkened rooms.

CHILD ASKS (IN EACH ROOM): “Sir, do you have room for us in your Inn?”


ADULT (IN EACH ROOM): “No, there is no room for you here.”

AFTER PASSING THRU THE VARIOUS ROOMS, THE PROCESSION ARRIVES AT THE PLACE OF THE MANGER & THE CHRISTMAS TREE.

CHILD ASKS: “Sir, we are very tired. We have come a long distance, all the
way from Nazareth to this town of Bethlehem. Do you have any room for us here?”
ADULT: “Yes, there is room. Tho the conditions are sparse, you are all welcome.
I will show you to the stable and help to make you comfortable.”
(pause here and CHRISTMAS TREE LIGHTS ARE NOW PUT ON)

ALL SING: Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.

OLDEST CHILD: A reading from the ancient book of martyrs:
“In the 42nd year of the empire of Octavian Augustus;
in the 6th age of the world; while all the earth was at peace
Jesus Christ, eternal God, and Son of the Eternal Father,
Willed to bless the whole world by His gracious coming.
He was born in Bethlehem of the Virgin Mary.”

ALL SING: Silent night, holy night

Shepherds quake, at the sight.

Glories stream from heaven afar,

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,

Christ our savior is born... Christ our savior is born.

(INFANT FIGURE IS NOW PLACED IN THE MANGER)

St. Luke’s Gospel continued:
“and it came to pass, when the angels had departed.

The shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over

to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened.”

So they went with haste, and they found Mary and

Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. And the

shepherds returned glorifying and praising God for

all they had heard and seen.”

MOTHER: Let us pray:
O Almighty God, we are so happy that once again we
can now join in celebrating the birth of our Savior.
May Jesus be our friend and be with us at all times.
May we prove worthy to be His friends by being at
all times, obedient, joyful, forgiving, and kind to
others. Amen

ALL: O come all ye faithful

Joyful and triumphant.

O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem.

Come and behold Him,

Born the King of angels.

O come let us adore Him

O come let us adore Him,

O come let us adore Him

Christ our Lord.

Happy Birthday Jesus!

It's much better in person

By Meg Ferrante

My oldest woke me this morning sticking a camera in my face. Not to shoot a disheveled picture of me trying to fight the light, but to show me a photo he'd just taken of the sun coming up.

The first one out of bed, he'd peeked outside to check for what he hoped would be snow. No such luck, but he'd noticed the morning light fighting it's way up in a clouded, wintry sky. So he grabbed his camera and recorded the still of the moment.

"Come on, Mom," he said, showing me his masterpiece. "You gotta come out here. It's much better in person."

I went to the door, and sure enough, he was right. I love the picture he took, but how can it really compare to the real sight? The real light? The morning chill and that dry smell of the woods and grass all mixed in with something rotting and something somehow citrusy?

A good friend stopped by to see us today, with cookies and a lap harp for the boys. The house is not at its finest, I hadn't showered and breakfast wasn't ready. I think there were dishes in the sink from last night. I really could have used a good hour or two to tidy and make a nice brunch. But a full three hours later, after eating eggs (and cookies!), drinking copious cups of coffee, watching a lap harp recital (oldest picked up on it quickly and is smitten) and playing probably 17 hands of cards with the boys on my dirty family room floor, she and I agreed it had been a perfect morning.

Now, as I'm sitting down to write, I realize that all the best moments of my life, the most dramatic, the most memorable, the ones that are frankly worthy of a movie scene, are the ones I experienced in person. Where I put my heart and mind into the mix. And without thinking about dinner menus or the laundry needing to be folded, without thought for the story I committed to writing that I should have started a week ago or the youngest's shots that aren't quite up to date, without distraction, I was in the moment. And being there was good.

I'm off on the less exciting task of scrounging the next meal and trying to finish those dishes. But when I keep myself open to it, they're just brief dull moments in a long string of downtime, linking the hours between the memorable moments that make this life so worthwhile.

Here's to a magical Christmas!

Thank you for the wait

by Barb Kennedy

But Lord... I do not like to wait.

I have become so accustomed to “now,” that waiting is painful.

Fast food, instant rice and potatoes, high speed internet, “no wait” lines, pre-packaged meals, credit so I can “buy now – pay later,” fast cash, instant gratification... everything around me screams do it now, eat it now, get it now, now…now… now… don’t wait!!!!

Waiting? Foreign. But You did make me wait five memorable times of note. And they were worth the wait. In each of those nine months of waiting, as they grew to completion – I grew (literally and figuratively). In those months of waiting, I left childhood behind and prepared to be a mother. I learned so much from You about patience, making decisions that affected another for good, slowing down, quieting, nesting and preparing... and I would have missed it all if You hadn’t made me... wait.

I also learned that as much as I didn’t want to wait, if I didn’t put in that time, things could turn out very poorly. The occasion seemed more like a blur in the rush to get it done and over. Food wouldn’t be cooked well – undone, too rubbery, too mealy, too rushed. The preemie that wasn’t quite “ready” to be rushed into the world... sometimes “now” really isn’t good at all.

So against all the blaring “do it nows,” “have it nows,” and “don’t waits” in my face, my eyes, my ears... I wait. Why? Because I know of the lessons of waiting; the joy, the beauty, the alleluias, the over-flowing heart, the precious gift of love at the end.

So thank you Lord... for this time of preparation... and for... the wait.

Season's Gift (concluded)

(photo by Lillian Craze)
By Frank Varano

Christmas is just one day set aside to rejoice in the coming of Jesus Christ as intended by those reflections on the church wall. But why should it be only one day? What about the other 364? We do well to learn from the eight year old's joyous face, experiencing everything for the first time.

Make no mistake--a child's reaction in the snow would be the same by the poolside if Christmas were August 5th. This is the natural state of every human ever born--excitement, wonder and irrepressible joy. The Real World as it was meant to be and can be. This is what Jesus referred to when he beckoned His disciples to have the faith of a child (Matthew 18:5). "The Good Old Days" is really more a reference about a time in my life when I was more easily contented than it was about a period in history when the world was a better place.

Like seeing the first snowfall, Christmas also teaches me that it is possible to live each day as if it were a new, separate and distinct day unlike any other in history. We were intended to! It doesn't matter if yesterday's events impact our actions today. To those of us who see it, this newness is evident not just daily; it is reflected on an annual basis with the change of the seasons. God has established a regualr pattern in our lives, each part being different from the others, but the sequence never changes. It establishes the order and continuity we need, but the sense of newness we crave. This is each season's gift to us, and its power is most strongly felt at Christmas.

The earth's cycle of spring, summer, fall and winter closely mimics the human cycle of birth, growth, maturity and death. The average human only has the chance to live through about seventy of thses annual cycles. Few ever notice the them. Even fewer understand its intent. Seen in this light, how wonderful it would be if on our birthdays, people wished us a Merry Christmas!

It is far too easy to get bogged down with the details of the Christmas card mailing list and what color lights hang on the porch. Keep in mind that "this is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad!" (Psalm 118:24) God created the past, and He has a future mapped out for us. But today, ah, today is like you and me: unique and unrepeateable. It is the one point in time where history and eternity embrace. Today is God's gift to us. That's why it's called the present.


Dedicated to the memory of Dad.

Season's Gifts

(photo by Lillian Craze)

By Frank Varano

How we react to snow can be a good indication that our attitudes are changing. As a child growing up in the suburbs of New York, I always greeted the first snowfall of the year with shouts of joy, shortly followed by volleying salvos of snowballs among the kids in the neighborhood. I would gladly trade being repeatedly pelted by the older kids (even my big brother) for a glorious day off from school. Even shoveling was fun--it provided us with raw material for our impermeable, yet all too fleeting snow fortress.

The newness of the first snowfall made everything (even our neighbors' yards) look pristine. The streets were shrouded in silence until the piercing shrieks of children hurling themselves down icy hills in unsteerable contraptions raised even the most indifferent heads from their morning newspapers. Such fun afternoons logically progressed into serene evenings watching marshmellows melt in hot chocolate and gluing eyes to the evening news weather reports, hoping for more forecasts of snow and school closures. There was never anything wrong with these (dare I use the term?) good old days. Each year, I was seeing snow as if I saw it for the first time. And that's what gave it its excitement. But of all the great things about the first snowfall, one was clearly the most signficant: it meant that Christmas is coming. The near future brought promises of more days off, gifts, unmitigated fun.

Grown-ups (usually the type who gave socks for presents) occasionally discouraged us by saying, "Wait until you get into the Real World!" But there was nothing more real than experiencing the happiness we were meant to. Undaunted, I would throw them a puzzled look, followed by a snowball. Yet despite their imposing (and perhaps self-imposed) schedules, even grown-ups were forced to slow down and take a break from the hectic pace. After awhile, they would realize that the world wouldn't end if they couldn't make it to their 9 a.m. appointment. The weather certainly didn't mind.

Now many years later and an official grown-up, my reaction to the first snowfall has changed dramatically. No longer a novelty, it has become a nuisance. I have to wake up earlier to scrape the white debris off my car while ungracefully hopping around to avoid getting my shoes wet. As I drive to work, I mutter threats to an indifferent dashboard vent which refuses to pump out warm air any faster. In the evening, I run inside as if avoiding a swarm of locusts, and brace myself for the forecaster's predicition of how many more inches are expected this evening. The onset of winter has become an onslaught.

One thing still has not changed: Christmas is coming. But the future isn't what it used to be. Even this blessed event has degenerated from the one day that every child could wholeheartedly enjoy, to an annual ritual of socially imposed parties, baragain-hunting among crazed mothers clamoring for the latest movie-action-figure-du-jour, and irreverent plots to find tactful ways of telling friends that I don't want another necktie this year. And yes, the year-end resolutions which I know I'll keep as long as the fruitcake. All the while, TV shows and department store ads remind us that this is the happiest time of the year. No wonder depression sharply rises during the holiday season. It has become a season to be endured rather than enjoyed. What went wrong?

I can't recall a specifici Christmas when it started going from good to worse. Perhaps it was when I began taking on progressively larger responsibility. When I finished college and started work, I began running out of time. This is a common excuse. My day still has 24 hours in it, as it did when I was eight. It's not what I've done with these hours, it's the attitude I have that has made the difference.

I'll admit that my intention at Christmas when I was an 8-year-old boy was not to welcome the Messiah into the world, but to see how many presents I could receive. My attitude, however, was one of joy, excitement and wonder. As refelcted in my grown-up reaction to snow, it is an attitude which changed remarkably for the worse over the years. And I was unaware of it.

Then, I had the tremendous fortune to spend Christmas 1995 in the southern Italian village where my parents were born. There was no tinsel or eggnog in sight, and I loved it. It was perceptibly real experience. One evening, I came across a small church where I found the most poignant expression of the meaning of Christmas humbly displayed:

If you have enemies, reconcile your differences;
Christmas is Peace.

If you have sinned, asked forgiveness;
Christmas is Friendship with God.

If you have friends, seek them;
Christmas is Gathering.

If you have debts, pay them;
Christmas is Justice.

If you have the poor at your side, help them;
Christmas is Giving.

If you have pride, overcome it;
Christmas is Humility.

If you have erred, reflect;
Christmas is Truth.

If you are sad, rejoice;
Christmas is Happiness.

If you have hatred, defeat it;
Christmas is Love.

-- post to be continued tomorrow... --

It only takes a minute

By Meg Ferrante

Five minutes. That's when the grandparents get here. Five minutes to finish Jeremy's birthday cake, make the salad, set the table, clean the back hall toilet, write the blog for tonight. Five minutes? Obviously this isn't all going to happen. Six days until Christmas? Obviously, it can't all get done.

I know myself and I knew it was coming. I am starting to panic.

But this year, there is a huge difference. I have committed myself to this blog and that means I am doing all I can to find advent in the ordinary. And it's working.

Last night at dinner hour, rushing, rushing, rushing, I stupidly raced into Walmart at 5 p.m. I needed more icing for the cake and sourdoll rolls for the Italian sausage. There were not a lot of happy people in Walmart. My children were three of them all the way home. Dinner wasn't ready, everyone was whining and fighting, I felt like a gerbil on a wheel; I'm moving as fast as I can but nothing's happening. I could feel the simmer go to a boil. I had to run out to the car and on the way back, I could hear daddy yelling through closed windows. I felt my heart sink. I felt deflated. The facade of a peaceful lead-up to Christmas was falling fast.

With one foot on the back steps, heading toward the house, I stopped. I took a deep breath. Looked up at the few stars in the dark sky. Said a quick prayer. Reminded myself that everything I love most in the world was right there in that kitchen. Adjusted my attitude like I was adjusting a too-tight bra and headed back inside. I wouldn't call it my favorite night of the year, but what might usually get ugly was definitely not.

You can do a lot in five minutes. You might not get the toilet clean, but you can give it up to God.

I like to think I just did.

Give This Christmas Away

By Anne Mistretta

In these difficult financial times, it is hard for many to give like they are accustomed to. But what if for this season of Advent and Christmas we look at a new way of giving - giving LOVE. It doesn't have to cost a cent. It can be in the smile you extend to the harried cashier, the kind words to a sick relative or friend, a handwritten note telling someone just what they mean to you, taking care of another's children while they have some much-deserved time alone or with others. After all, giving begins in our own families and communities. It begins with the love in our heart - the love that is meant to be given to others.

I heard this song today and it touched my heart – what a beautiful message!
“For God so loved the world That He gave His only Son
so we could be His hands, His feet, His love.”


Give This Christmas Away
(Matthew West & Amy Grant)
What if I told you
You have the power
To give someone hope
Beyond their wildest dreams
What if I told you
It’s right there in your hands
In your hands

It’s hard to imagine
How something so small
Can make all the difference
Tear down the tallest wall
What if December
Looked different this year
What if we all just

Give this Christmas away
If there’s love in your heart
Don’t let it stay there
Give this Christmas away
And your life will be changed
By the gifts you receive
When you give this Christmas away

It’s feeding the hungry
Serving the poor
It’s telling the orphan
You’re not forgotten anymore
It’s doing what love does
Even when no one’s watching you

Give this Christmas away
If there’s love in your heart
Don’t let it stay there
Give this Christmas away
And your life will be changed
By the gifts you receive
When you give this Christmas away
For God so loved the world
That He gave His only Son
So we could be
His hands, His feet, His love
His love

What if I told you
You have the power
To give someone hope
Far beyond their wildest dreams
What if December
Looked different this year
Yah what if we all just

Give this Christmas away
If there’s love in your heart
Don’t let it stay there
Give this Christmas away
And your life will be changed
By the gifts you receive
When you give this Christmas away

Give this Christmas away
You have the power
Just give it away
Give it away
Give it away
This Christmas
Give it away
Give Christmas away
Give it away

Lighting a Candle in the Darkness

By Tony Ferrante

Advent is defined by Miriam Webster’s Dictionary as, “1 : the period beginning four Sundays before Christmas and observed by some Christians as a season of prayer and fasting.” Many people traditionally light candles on an Advent Wreath in order to commemorate their passage of time as they await the arrival of Jesus.

But Jesus is always with us. He’s not laying in wait for Christmas to come so that He can make a grand entrance. I have come to look upon Advent as the period of time when I’m forced to look up from my life, and light a candle in the darkness.

We all have our trials and tribulations. The Human condition always seems to throw situations at us that cause darkness to creep into our minds, hearts, and souls. If we dwell on the negatives we run the risk of living merely to survive, not thrive.

Advent is when I’ve learned to try and remember to look at Christmas through a child’s eyes. Their pure joy for the season is my inspiration to light the candle and chase away the darkness.

Years ago I was seemingly at the bottom of a well, content to live in the darkness and grudgingly involving myself in the Holidays, if at all. Years of working in public safety, restaurants and retail had made the Holiday Season my least favorite of the year. I was assured to be overworked, underpaid and dealing with horrible attitudes from customers and employees on a daily basis. And the soundtrack to this turmoil was always the constant playing of Christmas Carols on the PA systems at my place of business. I came to associate the sound of Christmas music with getting my brains beat out at work. I vividly remember once changing my nametag at work so that it read “Ebenezer Ferrante.”

The first Advent celebrated in a new apartment after my divorce promised to be a dark and lonely Christmas. I missed my children horribly and had decided against decorating at all. They’d only be with me every-other weekend anyways, what was the point? Well, Jesus was there beside me after all, and He had different plans.

I picked up my children for our weekend together. Alexis was 6. Anthony was 10. And Angelica was 12. As soon as they got in the car they started begging me to put on one of the radio stations that was playing Christmas carols 24/7. I resisted, saying that I didn’t really like Christmas Carols. They groaned, complained, and then each of them explained why they love Christmas carols so much.

“It always makes me happy when I get to hear these songs. I know that Jesus is coming.”

“I love this music because it makes me think about our family, and love and great food.”

“I never get to hear these songs until now, and it’s my favorite time of the year.”

Through the graces of the Holy Spirit I actually heard and understood for the first time in a very long time. I’d allowed myself to dwell in the darkness, refusing to light a candle to show me the way. I was 38 years old and somehow I’d allowed this wonderful music to have negative connotations when I heard it. But my children were experiencing only their 4th, or 8th, or 10th true Christmas season in their lives. Everything was still new, unblemished and joyous in their eyes. The wonder and beauty of the Advent Season was as fresh as unbroken morning snow.

On that brief car ride my life was changed. I lit that candle in my heart and the light warmed my soul. We decorated my little apartment that weekend and sang every Christmas carol we heard on the radio. When they were gone for two weeks I felt their warmth in my heart as if they were right there beside me.

Christmas is a horrible time for depression, loneliness, and anxiety. When I look at an Advent Wreath today I pray that the candles being lit signify that someone out there who is mired in darkness has just had a candle lit in their lives and they can feel the warmth, comfort, and strength of the love of Christ.


(photo by Nate Craze, Lillian's husband, taken on an early morning hunting trip in the wilds of Nebraska.)

One solitary life

He was in born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another obscure village, where he worked in a carpenter shop until he was 30. Then for three years he was an itinerant preacher.

He never had a family or owned a home. He never set foot inside a city. He never travelled 200 miles from the place he was born, he never wrote a book or held an office. He did none of the things that usually accompany greatness.

While he was still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against him. His friends deserted him. He was turned over to his enemies, and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While he was dying, his executioners gambled for the one piece of property he had -- his coat. When he was dead, he was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave.

Two thousand years have come and gone, and today he is the central figure for much of the human race. All the armies that ever marched and all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat and all the kings that ever reigned--put together--have not effected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as this "One Solitary Life."

(My Mom and Dad took my niece to see the Radio city Music Hall Christmas Spectacular last weekend and were thrilled to see a live nativity at the end of the show. These words were played across the stage screen and Mom was happy to see them in the program as well because she found them simple and moving and wanted to share them with me and all of you.)

The best Christmas gifts ever

By Barb Kennedy

My husband and I are blessed to be among those who in December of each year get to say, “Don’t buy us anything... we don’t want anything, and don’t need anything.”

Of course those same words elicit an, “Oh no – what do we get them NOW?” from those desiring to give.

One year, our kids (I’m sure that translates to “our girls”) came up with the perfect idea. It wasn’t a particularly novel idea – many use it – it was HOW they did it that made the difference.

They each made donations to charities in each of our names, but in doing so, they told us and in many cases, the recipient, why they did it.

“What’s the difference?” you might ask.

For Dick, a runner, hiker, canoe-er, historian, naturalist and environmentalist at heart, donations were made to the National Historic Preservation Society, the Carolina Mountain Land Conservancy, Trees Atlanta, the Atlanta Botanical Gardens, and the St. Charles Children’s Home. (Google their site -- an article about them says ‘Nuns in New Hampshire use the power of running to help troubled kids.')

Some of the messages explaining the donations read:

“We love you and honor your love of nature…”

From our humorist: “Some $$s were donated to these beautiful gardens in the middle of such smog in your honor. I look forward to our next trip and discussing plants and art over some drinks. I couldn’t ask to belong to a better family tree. Thank you. I love you.”

And… “I was taught at a young age the importance of family; sharing, mutual respect for others, and that my family is the ultimate source of unconditional love in my life!

To the Nuns: "…I read about you using the power of running to help troubled kids. My Dad was a top runner as a young man and has picked it up again at 60 years of age. He is my inspiration – not only in running, but in the way he lives his life. He is kind, compassionate, and a respected man - as well as an accepting and loving Dad.”

Since I’ve spent in the vicinity of 40 years as a nurse, love the theater, have a tender spot for those who sacrifice for others, and find myself best suited for Grief counseling and support, the charities chosen for me included a shelter for abused women and their children, the Actors Fund of America, Doctors Without Borders, the adoption of a soldier serving in Iraq, and my own grief ministry.

Some of those messages were:

”My Mom is an RN and has dedicated her life to service – service to her family and service to her patients. She is a strong, honest, reliable and compassionate person who has tremendous respect for you and your comrades...”

”I know how much you love helping people and making a difference in their lives. Peace and love is in need all over the world and you are an inspiration not only to me, but to many others for your help in this part of the world. Thank you. I love you."

And… “Each year you touch so many people’s hearts in their greatest time of sadness. You are so instrumental in bringing them peacefully to the other side of their grief. You have such a gift! It was an obvious choice to provide this money for you to continue God’s healing work for so many! We love you beyond words and are proud of all that you do and accomplish in His name.”

I imagine by now you know the scope of the answer to that question, “What’s the difference?”

For us, the difference was huge. We were gifted with what our adult kids had taken from their upbringing - the lens thru which they saw us as adults, and why.

So if you’re stuck for ideas for those special people in your lives who are impossible to buy for, maybe consider giving them the gift of telling them who they are in your life, thru your eyes... by giving to others.

Three “people” benefited from these gifts – the recipients of the donations, the givers of the gifts, and the honorees beyond measure.

1,000 words

By Lillian Craze

You’ve heard it said that a picture is worth a thousand words.

I have one of those pictures.

I came across and photographed this cactus while driving with my family through Saguaro National Park last April during a particularly difficult stage of my life. Upon seeing this cactus, I was in awe. And God spoke to my heart. I hesitate to state what I heard. Instead, I’d like to be silent so God can speak words to your heart.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
-- Matthew 28-30

Will the real spirit of Christmas please stand up?

Overheard by the dishwasher in the Brown house:

Julia: (being very 14) I'm trying to do my English project, but coloring it is so hard with my colored pencils (editor's note: they're old and bad and lame and awful)
Mom: I sure hope Santa brings you some new pencils.
Julia: (snort) I don't believe in Santa.
Lane: (mock displeasure) Weeeellll, you won't get any presents if you don't believe in the spirit of Christmas.
Julia: Spirit of Christmas? Santa's not the spirit of Christmas!
Lane: Well, now ...
Julia: Jesus is the spirit of Christmas. Santa's just some little mascot.

-- Lane Harvey Brown

Advent Angels

By Denise Gunderson

As we were driving home from our second out of three total Christmas pageants, I hear all this bickering in the back seat.

“Micah just pulled my hair!”

“I did not!”

“He’s being mean again, like he always is.”

“I didn’t do anything!"

Wait a minute! Didn’t we just leave a Christmas Concert illuminating the birth of Christ? Shouldn’t we all be in the Christmas spirit and be kind to one another? In an effort to change the mood to my liking, I remembered an idea a friend shared with me earlier in the day. Advent Angels.

Have each child pick a name of a sibling and during Advent, they are to become Angels for that person, secretly doing nice things for them. You can change the name daily if you wish, or keep the same person throughout Advent. As I made the suggestion, the car got quiet and everyone agreed that this would be fun. We drew names this morning, and just for kicks, thought I would include me and my husband. Mom drew Dad’s name and Dad drew the baby’s name, those were easy enough. Then Micah (the hair puller) drew his big brother’s name and instantly said, “I don’t want Noah!” Noah was ecstatic that he drew his twin’s name because he had already cleaned up their room, Advent Angel duty completed.

Then my one and only lovely daughter drew my name. Mind you, I was doing this for the sake of my children, not for me. All I expected was for them to be nice to each other and the only thing I wanted to get out of it was peace in our house and no fighting. But my daughter offered to make me breakfast. I declined since I usually eat after they’re off to school and I didn’t think much of it as I drove the kids to school and went on to work.

When I got home from work, I found the sweetest card on my refrigerator from my Advent Angel. On the front it read, “You’re the best mom ever.” On the inside it read, “I love you” on one side and the other side said, “Dear Mom, I think you are the best mom ever. You’re soooo nice, pretty and you do a lot of nice things for me. Love, your Advent Angel, Sarah.”

At that moment, I was filled with so much love, joy and peace. I feel so blessed to have these little Advent Angels in my life every day throughout the year.

Listening for God

By Jenny Arthur

A few years ago, when my pastor was speaking about being in relationship with God, it made me consider the times in my life when I have most strongly felt God’s presence.

I often complain to my spiritual husband that God just does not talk to me like He does to others I know. I sometimes wonder what His voice sounds like. Is it deep and powerful like I have always imagined? It could be a female voice for all I know. My husband accuses me of not listening hard enough. He’s probably right; I live in a household full of noise. (My 6-year-old daughter never stops talking and my 3-year-old son loves to blast loud rock & roll music.) God probably has a tough time getting a word in. I know I do around here! However, I often feel God’s presence, even if He’s not talking to me.

Without a doubt, the first day in my life when I strongly felt God’s presence was on November 26, 2003. It was the day my first child was born. When the doctor handed me my precious baby girl, I could not help but think that God had created a perfect gift. As I counted her tiny fingers and toes, I realized that every part of her was perfectly designed, carefully created and lovingly delivered to us. I was in total awe when I looked her over and on that day and I realized that God had created another masterpiece. I knew that my husband and I could not take credit for this creation. I can barely make a cake without it collapsing. And my wonderful husband (God bless him) has an engineering degree but cannot even fix our ice machine. Us taking credit for this miracle would be like an ant taking credit for creating the Internet. On that day, I had a taste of God the Miracle Worker.

When my second child was due, I was worried that I wouldn’t have the same feeling of God’s presence. Would the miracle of a baby seem as amazing the second time around? On July 22, 2006, Baby Tommy decided it was time to make his world debut. Despite a scary birth, I felt the same awesome presence of God. While the doctors, midwives and nurses frantically worked on my son, I was amazingly calm and prayerful. On that day, I had a taste of God the Comforter.

My current Pastor, the Reverend Doctor Chris Carson, often asks God to speak to us during his service. I’m probably misquoting him, but he is in the business of forgiveness, so here goes. He prays, “Please Lord, speak to us today. We are not picky in how you choose to do so, through the Word, prayer, song, sermon or the presence of another.” I have always liked that prayer, since I have never actually heard God’s voice, but have often heard God speak.

May God “speak” to you during this advent season!

Only He knows the plans He has for me

By Abigail Johnston (age 14)

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope for a future. --Jeremiah 29:11 (paraphrased)

I find peace as I think of this promise. It reassures me God has a will for my life. Whatever that will is, it must be good, because it is in His perfect timing, NOT mine. I am not saying His will is easy, but I am saying it is perfect.

In Romans 8:28 it says (paraphrased, once again) 'All things come together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose.' And honestly if He (the omnipotent creator of the universe) says so, who am I to doubt it? I am the small, weak, unconditionally-loved created. I know that God knew me before I was born and he takes time to know my thoughts and actions (Psalm 139). So He must know what He is doing in my life right now and even if I am completely clueless I am 100 percent certain God is working out the good in my life.

So this Christmas season, a time supposed to be filled with joyous communion and fellowship with friends and family, I will leave all my friends and leave the home I have lived in for 8 years and spend my Christmas in a new home, 11 hours and four states away, unpacking boxes and trying to locate new friends.

Yet somehow I know I will be at peace. Because even if I can't see it, God's hand is in this for me to cling to. Just like he said, He will never leave me or forsake me.

(Ed. note: As you read this, a Chevy Suburban packed to the rafters with the family and last of the Johnston's household items is hurtling down I-20 -- just past South of the Border -- driving away from their old home in North Carolina toward their new home and Stephen's new job in Alabama. It's been a long, long year for them, but with great attitudes as you can see, they are all looking forward to the new adventure!)

The most wonderful time of the year

By Becky Carson

I have many reasons to love the season - the joyful anticipation of this miraculous birth.

I love the colors of the season (all those amazing colors of creation - they were indeed beautifully illustrated by God).

I love the manger (ever since I read the Tale of Three Trees it means so much more to look at that shabby wooden box. Can't make it through the stinkin' book without crying).

I love the children screaming in the sanctuary as they practice the Christmas Pageant (ok, not at that exact moment, but as I reflect back on the joy they experienced in the sanctuary - doesn't happen that often for children, know what I mean?)

I love the cool night that we drive into Atlanta each year and watch the Live Nativity Scene at our first church together (and now our children experience the love of a church and an amazing God that brought their parents together. And together, we get to celebrate Christmas in such a special way).

I love the Christmas Eve candles (the awesome light of Christ is coming in the dark night. He's coming...any time now, He's coming).

I love the joy of gift giving (what an amazing gift we have been given!)

I love the meals together with family and friends (sharing the bread and the wine, if you will).

I just LOVE our amazing God.

I sit back and am so grateful for the life His has given, for the lives He has taken, for the love He has freely shared with all - because we are His.

In the words of Casting Crowns, Who Am I, "Not because of who I am, but because of what You've done, Not because of what I've done, but because of who YOU are!"

The walk

By Lane Harvey Brown

I’m turning 47 tomorrow. I know this to be true because I’ve had to do the math to remember which mid-40s year is coming: Is this 47? 48? 46? Wishful thinking.

It’s almost Christmas and this is the first year it seems to have caught us completely by surprise. The Advent calendar sits bright and ready in the hall, watching as its children – now teenagers – trundle past without a glance on the way to high school each morning. I wonder if it can remember the feel of little fingers working on it the way I can.

The toy catalog comes and goes with only a chuckle about the silly stuff of little kids. Toys R Us has been replaced by big kid diversions: BMX bikes, video cameras, movies, phones. I flip through the American Girl and the Lego catalogs, pausing only briefly on the pages I use to study contentedly just a few years ago.

Oh I know, there’s no use moping. Every child grows up: Don’t dwell on it! I get that; what I don’t get is how it happened so fast, or how it happens to be me who is here.

Now I hear the quiet in the house differently, when I am home alone. It’s like its own song, one I admit I used to long for at times -- but now I’m not sure I like the tune. And this person – me – whom I have felt so many times like I have lost amid the mothering is about to be face-to-face with more time to get reacquainted than perhaps would be desirable.

So that’s my backdrop today, and yet, a thought strikes me as I am brushing my teeth: that’s the wonder of this time each year when we await one birth so inexplicable, so consequential. We return to the manger, all of us, a little older.
Yet this birth never ages. It’s evergreen.

And I think of being very young, walking with my grandfather through the woods near his house in eastern North Carolina, on a cold December morning. Stepping over fallen logs, pressing back fingery evergreen branches with my own small hands, trying to stay by his side.

That’s the image I hold on to in my crowded head. In the rush of stuff we call Christmas, Advent is where I step outside.

The air is cold and fresh on my face. I step off into the woods at the end of the road. It wakes me up, and my cheeks cool from fury of the festivities. This forest is a house of stillness, spare, wonderful, real. If it were night, I could see the canopy of stars stretched across the open fingers of trees.

I can feel myself touching that one special star, reaching outside myself, that part of me that is also evergreen. I anticipate it, somehow. A connection, a warmth, an assurance. You’re not alone, Lane. I feel it now. I look around slowly, trying to memorize this moment. Stopping to listen to the fullness of this quiet.

Many things have changed and will change in my life, but I know this also to be true: God you’re always walking with me. It’s I who wander. Help me to stay by your side today. Together, we walk in peace.

All those in favor of a no-stress Christmas, say fa-la-la-la-la!

This cool tip seems to fit in well with the yesterday's pastor's master plan:

Have a Stress-Free Holiday

Molly Gold, a time-management expert from North Carolina, recommends sitting down with your family to pick three words that signify what you want to experience during the holidays. For example, Molly's family chose "family, joy, and peace" this year.

Post these words in your home, somewhere visible for the whole family to see. Before committing to a party, shopping trip, or event, ask yourself if it will help you achieve your family's goals.

Do hours of shopping and wrapping for everyone you know help meet one of your three goals? Do the endless parties fit into the big picture plan? Apply this tactic to other holiday activities that are common causes of stress and anxiety.

Click on the title of this blog for a link to southernliving.com to see more ways for lower stress holidays. Kind of ironic--a simplify-your-Christmas article coming from that mag--so make sure not to get sucked into the 3-page spread on "The perfect holiday table" or recipes for "Pecan Torte like Grandmother used to make," ok? ;)

Also want to share to be careful the level of solemness you put on this family project. In my house (remember, four boys, Dad being the biggest) the replies were "Chocolate, Strawberry and Vanilla," "video games, computer time and horseback riding" and from the big wit, based on the fact that littlest was sick all last week, the real gem worth engraving on gold holiday foil: "pooping, barfing and mucus." God is hilarious sticking me with this crowd of nuts!

An advent card from the Pastor

Yesterday's blogger, Barbara Kennedy, who has great radar for all things inspirational, spotted this in a Catholic Church Bulletin. I don't think it matters what your denomenation is, there's a great message here!

Dear Friends in the Lord,
If your house isn’t decorated for Christmas yet, don’t worry. You’re in good company: the Roman Catholic Church! As you saw when you entered the church today, the simplicity or our Advent environment stands in stark contrast to the extravagance of the shops and malls. The Church, of course, doesn’t follow the Target or Macy’s holiday calendar; we have a much more ancient wisdom that says these next four weeks are for restraint, for quiet waiting, for reflecting, for anticipating the joys of the coming of Jesus into our lives.

So what’s so important about Advent? I think most people understand Advent’s grace even before they think about it. How many of us have said, “Things are incredibly busy right now… There’s too much to do… Christmas is so commercialized… I wish there was a different way to celebrate it.” Sometimes we’ve heard so many Christmas Carols by the first week of December that by Christmas Day we want to unplug the radio!

We have a human and spiritual need to be connected to the ageless Source of life and love–-in the still December nights--to hear once again the quiet voice of a God who loves us beyond all our imagining.

Yet all the shopping, decorating and partying can keep us from the very reason we’re celebrating Christmas in the first place. Advent is a “big deal” for us because it calls us to be still and listen.

So although it’s counter-cultural to say this, why not slow down and do a little less this Advent? Find the spiritual side of these December days. I learned long ago that I personally must do that if I am to have anything at all to give you as a pastor when Christmas finally arrives. At the risk of seeming a big Scrooge, I will politely decline the many kind invitations to parties and socials during Advent.

The best spiritual direction I can offer you is to consider doing the same.

And when Christmas finally comes, we’ll once again find ourselves out-of-step with the world around us: We’ll just be putting up the decorations, singing carols for the first time and having our Christmas parties while our neighbors will already be recycling their trees and the stores will have moved on to the next marketable holiday. But our Christmas will be the richer for having waited, our grasp of the mystery of the Incarnation more profound for having entered into the silence.

Seasons Greetings: they're not just for December anymore

By Barbara Kennedy

Christmas cards.

Sometimes I wondered how the Christmas wishes that kept me connected to those I loved became the bane of my Christmas existence… especially since we lived away from family for most of our married life. But as I think back, I can see how it gradually happened.

Before the kids were born (and really after I had my oldest), my Christmas cards were reputed to be the FIRST in everyone’s mailbox. No small feat since I had decided in the '60's to take on my parents’ list after my Mom died. As the number of our offspring grew, the cards seemed to get posted later and later.

I felt (still do) that I can’t post a card without some handwritten bit besides the signatures, so in the early '70’s I added an annual Christmas letter with the cards. Of course, I still added at least a two-line note, but it did save some of the writer’s cramp that set in annually. But the letter had to be written--by me--yet another job.

I resolved at that point to only send to those I wouldn’t see; that lopped the “in-town” crowd off the list... helped a little, but not enough…. Next I chopped the family and those to whom I would actually say “Merry Christmas,” whether in-person or by phone.

By the early '80’s, there were five little Kennedys running around and me thinking “Christmas can’t happen in our house without the shopping, baking, decorating, kid’s programs, wrapping”--all jobs that pretty much fell to me, whether self-imposed or dumped on. “BUT,” thought I, “the Christmas Cards can wait!” So my tag line became, “If the Kings can wait until the 6th of January…why not me?”

What freedom! By doing my cards the week after the big day, I could comment on all the precious pictures, great letters, family news and beautiful cards shared with us. Problem solved…or so I thought.

After I missed the Epiphany deadline for a few years in the '90’s, I then resorted to, “Well, Martin Luther King was a King also, so that gives me until January 15th anyway.” Somewhere along the line I did start to buy New Year’s cards-–or at least greetings that dealt with peace or something relatively innocuous since it was pretty much a guarantee that Christmas would be long gone by the time our greetings hit the mail boxes!

As recently as last year, everyone knew that they would hear from us...when was the only question. I know it was late February the year of Dick’s heart attack before I got to them. By then, people had begun to contact me. They knew by the end of February something must be wrong. Great reputation huh?

Well, here we are at 2009-–and this year I am semi-retired. And believe it or not, my cards were done... letters, personal notes, addressed, stamped and all ready to mail by the 29th of November: I’ve come full circle for sure.

But I couldn’t bring myself to mail them that early. Everyone would surely know something was VERY wrong. Besides, I don’t want people to come to expect this--by next year I could be knee-deep in some other project and it will back to Epiphany--or MLK day--for our greetings.

The moral of this reflection--cut yourself some slack--what really is important on your list this Christmas? Real friends and family are very forgiving… they will love you in spite of your shortcomings. I know.

Away in a Man-A-ger

By Michele Hoopengardner

It was four days before my youngest son Peyton's birthday and only two and a half weeks before Christmas. We'd just moved to Madison and in all the confusion of the move, some of our Christmas ornaments got misplaced. I have always been fanatical about the Nativity scene in our home at Christmas. I had always tried to have a Nativity in every room of the house. But not that year. We were going to be short because of the misplaced boxes.

Peyton was helping me put the Christmas decorations out and he had a puzzled look on his face. I asked him what was wrong and he said "Mama... where my Tibity?"

I said we only had two that year and we were going to put them in the living room and dining room. He started to pout and said, "My Tibity!"

That afternoon we went to the store and got him his own "Tibity" for his room. To this day, that set has to stay on his nightstand year round. I am so blessed that God has allowed my children to learn that you don't just think about Christ at Christmas.

Same old fussing, brand new loving

By Meg Ferrante

Every parent has been there. Just one of those nights where the kids are falling all apart because they are tired, hungry, bored, insert any one of many possible maladies here.... That was last night at our house.

Thankfully we have a new remedy for that in these parts. A solution more powerful than the finest cajoling, more effective than even bribery. The world's best medicine for my boys: Daddy.

For the last 17 years of our marriage, my husband has had only one job that didn't have him on the road 3+ days and nights a week. And that job had him in the sky training Air Force flight students all day and working in the office until midnight some nights. So really, his absence in our house has left a giant hole.

Together--the kids included--we recently realized how "Cats in the Cradle" our situation had become. And my husband took immediate steps to fix it. He quit a lucrative sales job to try his hand as a financial advisor working a normal workday a mere 20 minutes down the road. It's only been three weeks, but a gal could get used to this new normal.

With Dad stepping up to the plate last night, a severely whiney situation was fairly quickly diffused. The best part was how beautifully it played out.

Oldest was cranky about all his homework. Middlest had chores to do, but wasn't listening and got in trouble. (Trouble + middlest = loads of crabbing and tears.) Rather than launch into another lecture, Bob says to him, "Look, son, I love you more than anything, but I still need your cooperation." From his spot hunched over a math worksheet, oldest lets out a wail, "You love him more than ANYTHING? What about meeeee?"

"Boys! Get over here!" says Dad, stepping to my computer and logging on to You Tube. In the kitchen, unaware of his plans, I soon hear the strains of George Strait's "Love Without End" and it's sweet refrain:

"Let me tell you a secret, about a father's love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
He said, 'Daddies don't just love their children
Every now and then.
It's a love without end, amen.' "

My gratitude was bottomless; for this man, for his difficult but loving choice, for his quick thinking in tough situations, and most of all, for his strong arms wrapped around all three of our boys on his lap.

I wasn't sobbing or anything. At least not until our youngest, with his little nasally voice murmurs, "You really do love us, don't you Dad?"

That's a Father's love. Without end, amen.

Post your thoughts -- they make great decorations

By Debbie Connelly

It was my year to host Thanksgiving and with the food preparation, decorating and so forth, I knew it would get crazy. I kept wondering how to get the kids involved until a thought crossed my mind at church. I would get fall-colored square sticky notes and seriously go to town...the kids and I would write down everything that we're thankful for and stick them all over the house. Presto, no decorating needed and a project that all four of my kids (with a little help from the older two writers) could do. It knew it would be fun, and a bit shocking, for our guests to see so many colored sticky notes all over our house. I planned to invite them to write some as well. No one could forget why we were all gathered and it would sure make a statement.

Well, the kids went hog wild with the project. In total, we had about 200 colored sticky notes all around the house. I paired Sydney and Brooke with each of the twins since they cannot spell very well. Sydney and Brooke would write down their thoughts and the thoughts of the twins. The twins would run all over the house hanging up the notes. It was really interesting watching them think up ideas. The notes consisted of being thankful for their teachers, bus drivers, Jesus, Sunday school teachers, friends, family, the dog, Jesus, angels, ice skating, cookies, trees, cereal, etc. The impact was incredible!

I think that they could have filled up more notes. The kids placed the sticky notes all over the walls, ceiling, bathroom mirror, toilet(!), fireplace, doors, windows, etc. The reaction of our thanksgiving crowd was great. Most took time to read the notes and the kids pointed out their favorites. I overheard a comment from Sydney saying, "Wow, I didn't realize we had so much to be thankful for."

How grateful are we? Here was a simple, tangible project to count the ways.

(ed. note: I LOVE this idea so much! What a great way to get the kids on board. Anyone see this working as an advent calendar? Countdown to Christmas day with red and green stickies the kids can write on? Maybe write down "gifts we can give that aren't wrapped presents" or "gifts Jesus has given us?" or like my mother-in-law used to do to line Jesus' manger, a list of good deeds done in the season????)

Advent in the extrordinary, advent to last a lifetime

By Erin Spinks

My story~our story, began with one single prayer:

"Lord, you know this baby. You created this baby. You have purpose for this baby. I only know of this baby because you designed it for me. I now lay this baby at your feet, for this is where she was created. I have no idea your purpose for her, or even anything about her, but I trust you made me aware of her for reason. That alone, I will praise you for. I pray for her wherever she is, that she is comforted by you. That You hold her dear and you protect her from pain & fear. This is all I can do."

This is the prayer that I prayed for little Mae the very night the caseworker told me about her. I left her at the foot of Jesus and prepared for God to make a way in her life. Several weeks later, we were asked if we would foster her--not knowing the outcome. Not knowing if mom would do all things asked of her and in a couple of months, have her baby back. I always claimed to have faith, but God, if you want me to be a walking testimony, use me. I remember praying daily--wishing God would just write it in the sky for me. Was this faith? Was I trusting?

One day at church the praise and worship team was singing "I Will Rise"--when you call my name, I will rise. This song broke me down and I could feel the hand of God leading me to do what He knew all along was our plan. Rise and follow--don't ask questions, just rise. So, we decided to step out of faith and get Mae and love her no matter what. I also wrestled with the thought that maybe God wanted to use me to help her mom become a better mom?? I explained to her the first day that we met, that I wasn't sure God's meaning of all this. That I felt God putting me in their lives was for a reason and that I was going to serve them though. Not to worry about Mae, we would love her and guide her through this time in her life.

Months went on, visits came, talks with mom, court cases, tears, and lots of prayers. Her mom knew that I loved her and that our family was a place where her daughter felt safe. It took months of visits, talks, missed visits for me to realize that my love for Mae was not just great because I was here for her, but that her mother, who also loved her dearly, was struggling to find the purpose for her. When I met back with mother in August right before court, I have never had a harder day. Why are you here? What are you doing? --these questions were the first to come to my mind. But softly as I prayed and people prayed for me, I was quiet and I tried my hardest to show love to her mother. I was confused, worried, and had to rely on faith of others to get me through those three weeks before court.

Court was August 26th--termination of parental rights. Was the judge going to see three weeks of visits as a sign that the mother was interested now? Could I deal with that? Again, God softly whispered to me--you are taking the right steps and I have a plan. As we began to talk to mother, she explained her love for Mae to us and that she knew Mae was loved by us and she knew we would take care of her. I remember the look on her face(and I hope to never forget it) as she asked us to please take care of her baby. The circle was complete--my journey was over. But my heart broke into pieces when I explained to her that God brought us together and it was not a mistake, but a plan that neither of us will ever be able to explain.

God had a plan. And He used a year, two mothers, and one precious little baby girl to tell a story--a story of FAITH, a story of HOPE, and a story of LOVE. Because to me, at the end of the day, all I can really do and know for sure is that God LOVES me and He trust me to LOVE others......

Now Mae is officially a Spinks' girl and my heart will be filled to the max!! I am so gratful and so blessed. For all my life, I will live to love and bless others! This story also reminds me that God's children are given to me to protect, love, and teach. They are his--and He is blessing me and Chuck---this is my DREAM COME TRUE!!! Be blessed and bless others....GOD IS SO GOOD!!!!