And a little child shall lead us....

Working with children for over 30 years always gives me a new appreciation for the "gifts" of life received during the holidays. When presented with the option of giving or recieving, it is such a delight to witness the joy on the faces of our little ones who understand the true meaning of doing for others.

This year, we had the opportunity as a preschool, to bake pumpkin pies for the community "Friday Free Lunch" program, in which those who are less fortunate can receive a hot meal each week free of charge. The children doned their chef hats, stirred, poured, and prayed over the pies before we placed them into the ovens. When the first pies were removed and ready to cool, those able to watch oohed and aahed over the finished product. As the children lined up to return to their classrooms, I overheard a three year old say to his classmates, "This will be the very best holiday ever for the people who can't go to the grocery store. I hope they like our pies and want us to bake something for them again. When can we help the people again Mrs. Deb?"

God provided the resources for those little hands who worked so very hard to give to the hungry.

May each be blessed with the gift of love through our Lord, Jesus this holiday season.

Deb Smoak
Madison Presbyterian Church Preschool

A new wreath tradition?

With inspiration from a friend of mine who is celebrating her first advent ever this year and making an advent wreath for her family, the boys and I had a little nature hike today and decided to collect some items to make our own wreath. We love our old Abbey Press candle circle (all the children of the world holding peace, joy, love, hope banners), but I wanted to do something for the season that would get us out to enjoy the majesty of a beautiful day and my favorite time of year.

It started innocently enough -- we were all excited that the crimson fall leaves are still around, the perfect color for a Christmas wreath (they managed to look like orange lillies in the finished masterpiece). Then God reminded me how he will keep me young with my energetic boys ALWAYS kicking it up a notch... they were, no-joke, 30 feet up a giant sycamore, risking limb and mom's sanity, dangling off branches to pull down strands of the glorious red-berry vines you see featured here.

All this is from the woods, except of course the candles.

Here's a prayer to kick off the lighting of the advent candles -- a beautiful tradition worth incorporating, to remember the Light of the World. -- Meg

A Rite for the Beginning of Advent at Home

The first day the wreath is in the home, the leader may say:

As our nights grow longer and our days grow short,
we look on these earthly signs--light and green branches--
and remember God's promise to our world:
Christ, our Light and our Hope, will come.
Listen to the words of Isaiah the prophet:

The people that walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those who lived in a land as dark as death
a light has dawned.
You have increased their joy
and given them gladness;
They rejoice in your presence
as those who rejoice at harvest,
as warriors exult when dividing spoil. Is. 9:1-2

Then as the first candle is lit, all pray:

O God,
rejoicing,
we remember the promise of your Son.
As the light from this candle,
may the bless of Christ come upon us,
brightening our way
and guiding us by his truth.
May Christ our Savior bring life
into the darkness of our world,
and to us, as we wait for his coming.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen

Sound the alarm -- advent is here!

It's late. And despite turkey tryptophan overload, I'm still eager. One hour until advent begins.

In the quiet of this dark house, I hear the raspy breathing of my dad as he sleeps, know my children are dreaming in their beds downstairs. Never one to make it to a sunrise, I'm chosing instead to savor the moonlight. And the gratitude of knowing that all these things are only thanks to God's tender love and devine mercy.

As Thanksgiving flows seamlessly into the countdown to Christ's birthday, I am thankful for all my blessings, all my challenges and all that makes my heart so full tonight and all through this season.

Wherever you are when you read this, I hope you can take just a minute to savor the silence and give thanks for whatever you find there. --Meg

(I'm also still eager to hear from you all! My neice Meghan, so sweet, so wise-beyond-her-years, is going to kick things off with this post-Thanksgiving reflection):

It's the day after Thanksgiving and already the houses in my neighborhood and around town are brightly lit, welcoming the Christmas season. It seems odd to me how so many people just want to get the season over with, stores start pushing the Christmas merchandise early, before Halloween in some cases. Even as young as I am, I admit that sometimes that's all I want to do, get the holiday over with, I normally begin Christmas shopping in September, or sometimes even earlier. But that's not what Christmas is about, Christmas is a time to be with family and friends, hanging out, singing Christmas carols, and most importantly, taking the time to remember what the season is really about. Taking the time to remember that Jesus was sent to earth as a baby so that one day, 33 years later, he could die on the cross for our sins so that we could live with him forever. Christmas is so commercialized these days that it's hard to remember that. But this Christmas season let's take time to remember what Christmas is all about. -- Meghan Johnston, age 16

Christmas Day, a new beginning

My wish is for peace - peace within me that might possibly effect family, friends, and everyone else I come in contact with. I don't mean a blissed-out, unconnected sense of peace, but peace that is grounded in every day, in the "ordinary." -- Gale

My wish is for my experience of advent to become the new ordinary. That the calm and easy joy I have felt all month long will last the new year through. Lord, watch over me, my family and my dear friends, keep us in your tender loving care! -- Meg

No more lives torn apart. That wars would never start. That time would heal all hearts. Everyone would have a friend. And right would always win. And love would never end. This is my grown up Christmas wish.... -- Amy Grant

Advent wishes (from "The Family Advent Wreath" by Liturgical Press) --
That we may be blessed with the spirit of simplicity that marked the birth of Jesus.
That we may be blessed with the spirit of joy that marked the teachings of Jesus.
That we may be blessed with the spirit of compassion that marked the healings of Jesus.
That we may be blessed with spirit of love that marked the life of Jesus.

CHILD OF BETHLEHEM, BLESS US WITH YOUR PEACE!

Merry Christmas everyone!

God's gift of the present

By Lillian Craze
“Yesterday’s a fading sunset; tomorrow’s a faint sunrise. So, shut the door on yesterday and throw the key away, for only today is there light enough to live and love. It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. Rather, it’s regret over yesterday and fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are the twin thieves who would rob us of that Golden Treasure we call today, this tiny strip of light between two nights.”
-- Robert Hastings from The Station

Forget the presents. Be present.

This favorite quote reminds me to be present. In a busy time such as Christmas, where the joy of the season can be overshadowed by the burden of what wasn’t accomplished yesterday or what I’d like to accomplish by tomorrow, it is easy to lose sight of God’s gift of the present. I desire to let God’s light shine on the here and now and to notice – really notice – the gifts that are right in front of me.

What gift is God giving to me through my children today? Am I annoyed at their demand for my time because I’ve got things to do? Or can I slow down and look my four-year-old daughter in the eye long enough to see the sparkle, the wonder, the curiosity, the window to her sweet heart? Can I sit on the floor with my 16-month-old son and explore with him?

This Christmas season, I pray that I may I take the time and have the wisdom to receive my children as gifts and give them the lasting gift of my time and attention. I pray that I take the time to lovingly communicate with my husband and make time for him as well. And I pray that I might open my home to friends without fear that things won’t be in proper order or worry that I am somehow an inadequate hostess.

What can you do to be present? To shine in the light of today? I pray that your heart may be open to receive the gifts of God this Christmas and throughout the coming new year as well.

I offer all I am to the mercy of your plan

By Elaina Asay

Each December we read and reread the story of Christ’s birth. We almost know the scriptural account by heart. In modern life it is difficult to grasp the reality of life back in biblical times. What was it like to be Mary leading up to the birth? I close my eyes and imagine…

Citizens in the kingdom of Judea were ordered to enroll in the towns of their ancestors’ origin, so Joseph was required to journey 90 miles to Bethlehem, the home of his forefathers. Mary joined her husband on the long journey. Surely inspiration guided that decision so that the ancient prophecy of Micah and others might be fulfilled: the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. How terribly uncomfortable that voyage must have been for Mary, being great with child, riding ever so slowly on bumpy dirt roads. She must have been frightened and pleaded with God, “Please do not let me give birth on this dusty road.”

Passing through Jerusalem and going on to Bethlehem, Joseph and Mary searched in vain for a place to stay. Rooms were simple roofed enclosures with little privacy. Mary’s fear must have grown at each rejection. She knew her baby was coming soon. What was she to do? She and Joseph took shelter in a stable. Surely she thought, “How can I give birth here, among animals, with no women to assist me?” A rude, humble stable, but it offered privacy. The animals provided warmth a newborn requires. We can be assured that angels watched over Mary as she brought the Messiah into the world.

I have felt sweet peace as a precious baby emerges and breathes his first breath. I can picture Mary’s joy as she held her new child closely to her chest, marveling at the miracle. Prophecy had been fulfilled. Mary knew that her son, God’s Son, would belong to the world. Yet on that first night, Jesus belonged to her.


Breath of Heaven (Mary’s Song)
by Amy Grant

I have traveled
Many moonless night
Cold and weary
With a babe inside
And I wonder
What I've done
Holy Father
You have come
Chosen me now
To carry your son.

I am waiting
in a silent prayer
I am frightened
by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now. Be with me now

[chorus:]
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven
Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me, your holiness
For you're holy
Breath of Heaven

Do you wonder
As you watch my face
If a wiser one, should have had my place?
But I offer all I am
For the mercy of your plan
Help me be strong
Help me be
Help me

Finding JOY in the most unlikely places

I found joy in the kitchen tonight. Yes, a stretch, I know... but it was just kind of sitting there, when I least expected it. Ok, I admit, I had to pull the reindeer magnet off the fridge to complete the set, but the candy cane and the ball jar top were in the mess on the counter, side-by-side, just waiting for me to notice. My first thoughts were -- J-O...JOY!

The photo is at right.

This Christmas, and all year, may you find joy when you aren't even looking.

"The little Lord Jesus is going to have issues"

Just down the road a few miles from our house is a tiny Methodist country church built by the world-famous Pennington (Seed Co.) family. It's white clapboard, with a New England-style spire and backs up to an ancient cemetery and a cow pasture and is just the place to view a live nativity.

We parked next to the pasture and as we climbed from the van, I cautioned the boys about low voices to respect the reverence of the event. "Look at the angels," I whispered, pointing toward the stable where three girls in feathery halos and brilliant white gowns were perched on the hay behind the holy family.

"What does the one on the right have?" Robby asked. "I dunno," I said. "Let's go see."

It turns out the angel seated at the right hand of our Lord was clutching a fist of hay. And as we drew closer to the heavenly scene, she unleashed it, all over the closest shepherd's head. In mock shock, he fell off his hay bale, knocking the sheep's lead line and irritating it into an angry bleat. Meanwhile, the upper-left angel was removing baby Jesus from his manger and started passing the doll around like 99 bottles of beer on the wall. "Stop that," said the first wise man, reaching for the poor baby and spiking it back down into its crib, "you can't do that or he's going to have issues."

Had we stumbled on the set of a movie revival for "The Worst Christmas Pageant Ever?" Which of the adults chatting over their hot cider were watching their sweet cherubim perform? I'll check with my local biblical scholar at church, but I feel confident hot chocolate drinking and cell phone texting are not historically-accurate manger activities. Good grief, you can't make this stuff up.

My first thought? Leave. Immediately. My second thought? Stay, play it out, this is going to be worth writing about. I did the closest thing to leaving I could which was shuffling the boys behind the creche to check out the animals. Redemption came quickly because these old fellas -- a sheep, a goat, a cow and a donkey -- were gloriously behaved. They all belonged to a local woman who in her retirement owns "Full Circle Farms." The animals there are all retired, too. Donkey Oatie was the coolest one. His massive ears flip back everytime you touch his head. Every time. We tested him.

The preacher tried to herd us into the sanctuary for a meal and another program, but we had only planned a stop-by and had definitely gotten our fix. Going to leave, it turns out that apparently, we hadn't made enough out of our evening. No keys.

The next 30 minutes were a blur of nighttime nature hike searching for the keys, flurry of phone calls to hubby to come get us with an extra set and then 25 blissful moments of just the four of us and two wicked games of hide-and-seek and Red Rover in the balmy 65-at-6 p.m. evening. We ended up under this monstrous pin oak, flat on our backs, marveling at the black, black night so far beyond all those stark spindly branches.

If it all sounds too good to be true... you can't make this stuff up... but it was.... Worry not, the boys dissolved into a fists-and-all wrestling match as Dad arrived on his white stallion to carry us home.

A Sense of Wonder

By Kerri Skiles
Some night before Christmas, when it is quiet, I will lie on the carpet under or near to the Christmas tree. It's not like sitting next to the tree, or on the couch across the room. The ground will be cooler of course, and hard too, and I'll likely get some odd ornament pieces sticking in my back. The tree is fake, it doesn't matter. The view from here is perfect. Every ornament is lit up, colors all around, and what I will feel is the wonder I felt as a child. This simple act, that would seem ridiculous at any other time of the year, it just makes sense, and it fills me with hope.

It only takes a minute

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.