Following the star

For older kids interested in getting deeper into the science behind the star... here's a documentary by the makers of "The Passion of the Christ":

Bernadette and John meet at last

If you read my post from Dec. 19, you might be wondering what happened with Bernadette and John? Suffice it to say, this is a VERY. HAPPY. NEW YEAR for those two. Must watch and believe! BEAUTIFUL!

Getting closer to Jesus

At our house last year, we had an outpouring of tears and more tears and MORE tears on Christmas morning after our nativity-scene snow globe slipped out of Anna's 4-year-old hands at the breakfast table and broke open.

Trying to find the light in the dark 4-year-old sadness and parental disappointment (after numerous warnings to be so very careful) of this moment, I cleaned up the glitter, water and shards of glass; placed the snow globe (minus the snow and globe) on a top shelf so no one would hurt themselves on the jagged glass that remained and was reaching out of the wooden, music box base; and declared that perhaps in this moment God would like us to be reminded that there is nothing that separates us from his love and from the gift of his son, the little baby Jesus lying in the manger.

God was nearer to us then. No more snow or globe in the way. Just the fresh air on baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

-- Lillian Craze



Big blessings and a relaxed Christmas day to all! Thank you friends for coming along on the journey again this year. It was a little different, but still spectacular... I'm so glad I committed to it again. -- mEg

Negative thoughts become thankfulness...

Last weekend, we went to my oldest brother's house to celebrate Christmas. It's rare to be together, because my middle brother lives in Alabama and my niece and nephew live in California, but we were all there.

We arrived with smiles and laughs, but the mood changed quickly as my neice and nephew ended up with the stomach bug. My first thought was GREAT now we are going to get it. But we hung out and enjoyed each other as much as we could while worrying about the kids and my brother who I know was worried about his kids. Turns out he was up until 4 a.m.

Meanwhile, Jimmy & I had to sleep on a bed that was very hard and springy (bad for Jimmy's back). I got to listen to a lot of huffing and puffing over this. We tossed and turned all night and were pretty darn cold too, I must say. When we woke up in the morning, my oldest brother cooked breakfast for us all and then we went to his indoor baseball and soccer place. My niece and nephew couldn't come since they were sick and they were looking forward to it the most. Fair right?

We finally got home and about 4 p.m., Michael started getting a fever and coughing a croupy seal cough. It seemed way worse then he had ever had and in our experience it only gets worse overnight, so I took him to the pediatric ER. They gave him a few breathing treatments and a double dose of steriods. Finally (after a movie and a half, commercials included), they were ready to send us home... thankfully.

As we were leaving Michael asked the question, "Do some kids have to stay here?" And it was a learning moment for him because yes they do.

I dropped Michael at home and went to the 24 hr. pharmacy where they had trouble with my insurance card for some reason, but worked it out. While I was sitting there waiting, a lady was trying to pick up medicine for her grandson that was about $300. The same same medicines that I was picking up for my son. The only difference was I had insurance and she didn't. So she couldn't pick it up. It makes my stomach turn thinking about it.

I finally picked up the prescription and headed home. We got the kids to bed at 10 PM and ate our dinner. Before bed while I was saying my prayers, I thought about how selfish I am and how the past two days had taught me SO much!!!

First, I should be thankful that my family was all together at my brother's house and that we were there to support my other brother while his kids were sick... it is no fun to do that all alone. Second, as I lay down to sleep, I thought about how many people would be so thankful to sleep on the hard, springy mattress I complained about. Third, I had flannel sheets and a huge comforter to try and keep me warm, some people are out on the streets huddled in a ball trying to stay warm. Fourth, I am so greatful that Michael was able to go home and even be thankful himself that he was going home. I have several friends who spend too much time in the hospital. Lastly, after talking to that grandma at the pharmacy, I am so thankful to have insurance and to be able to bring home medicine that my child needs to help him breath better.

It was a long two days but two days that Jesus was by my side teaching all along the way. About others and what they don't have and how thankful I should be to have all that I have.

My family is everything and I am so greatful for them, our house, our health and healthcare. How selfish I am....but how grateful I have learned a lesson in it all.

God bless and Merry Christmas!
Jenny Berardinelli

While You Were Sleeping

We seem to be listening to this song over and over again this Christmas season. My hope is that we as individuals, as a family, as a community, as a nation don't become known as the place with no room. May we keep Him as the focus in all that we do, not just during Advent & Christmas, but always.
-- Anne Mistretta



While You Were Sleeping
Oh little town of Bethlehem
Looks like another silent night
Above your deep and dreamless sleep
A giant star lights up the sky
And while you're lying in the dark
There shines an everlasting light
For the King has left His throne
And is sleeping in a manger tonight, tonight

Oh Bethlehem, what you have missed while you were sleeping
For God became a man
And stepped into your world today
Oh Bethlehem, you will go down in history
As a city with no room for its King
While you were sleeping
While you were sleeping

Oh little town of Jerusalem
Looks like another silent night
The Father gave His only Son
The Way, the Truth, the Life had come
But there was no room for Him in the world He came to save

Jerusalem, what you have missed while you were sleeping
The Savior of the world is dying on your cross today
Jerusalem, you will go down in history
As a city with no room for its King
While you were sleeping
While you were sleeping

United States of America
Looks like another silent night
As we're sung to sleep by philosophies
That save the trees and kill the children
And while we're lying in the dark
There's a shout heard 'cross the eastern sky
For the Bridegroom has returned
And has carried His bride away in the night

America, what will we miss while we are sleeping
Will Jesus come again
And leave us slumbering where we lay
America, will we go down in history
As a nation with no room for its King
Will we be sleeping
Will we be sleeping

United States of America
Looks like another silent night

Good, old-fashioned giving

Advent should be a Call to Action. Praying for people having troubles is nice, actually DOING something can change their lives. And yours.
-- Tony Ferrante

Tony also wanted to share this sweet story of good, old-fashioned giving. A warning to grab yer hankie before reading....

"Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were
going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?

Yeah," I said, "Why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children--sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.

My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.

Widow Jensen nodded and said, Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more."
--------------------

A wish for my family

For my family, I pray for love, smiles and the courage to believe in themselves.
-- Amie Meschi

I just love this simple, unselfish wish. Thanks for sharing Amie! Here's to a happy 2011 for the Meschis and all of us!

So many possibilities

Going in to the last week of advent and the final days before the 25th, the hustle and bustle and even stress are inevitable. But what if there was a different way of looking at all of that? Emily Buck shares her take and I hope to adopt this in my family and in my heart!

Advent is the beginning of a new church year and holds so many possibilities for us as believers. We can set new goals, celebrate accomplishments, mourn our losses, but mostly feel thankful that we are able to experience another year in God's presence.

So often, I see Advent as the END of another calendar year where I am rushing to finish up tasks, create the perfect few weeks for my family, and not forget Jesus's birth while I do it all. If I can change my perspective and see the season for what it truly is-a beginning with fresh opportunities- life automatically seems less frantic and overwhelming.

I love the Christmas season and really dislike the feeling of panic that "I simply won't get it all done". Simply by changing the deadline, I no longer feel as pressured to be superwoman. I can sit back and enjoy the fire in my fire place, take the time necessary to count my many blessings, and just soak up the joy of this Advent. It doesn't mean that i won't panic that everything won't be perfect, but at least I can revel in the understanding that I have a whole year ahead of me to put it all right!

Breaking News -- worldwide story premiere

As you read this epic tale of long-lost family and blood that's thicker than distance, let your mind wander across the ocean.

Spin the globe and point your finger to stop on Ireland. Inch it over to Dublin to be more precise.

Now picture a crowded auditorium. A cast of hundreds turned out for Dublin's radio event of the season.

Imagine a talented tenor onstage above countless adoring faces, uncontrollably tapping their toes and clapping wildly, overcome with infectious Christmas cheer.

Now the crowd goes absolutely still as the host for the evening asks the tenor, John, what he will sing next. John asks if he can do a solo, a song he has loved since he was just a child. With great emotion, he belts out the words to "Bernadette." When he hits the last note and the cheers die down, the host asks why he is so beloved of that song.

He answers that for a long time, he could not explain why that song was his favorite.

Then he tells the crowd the story of his childhood. Of being in a home where his parents could not care for him. Of bouncing around to various foster homes. And blessedly, of being adopted out to a wonderful family. But of wondering, his whole life, if he'd ever see his birth family again.

With smiles and tears, he tells the audience that he recently reached out to his adoption agency to see if he had any living family. His parents and an older sister had unfortunately died but the agency had located his younger sister. A woman named, unbelievably, Bernadette.

All along she'd been living in the United States and wondering every day of her 50 years about her family, too. She and her brother contacted their adoption agency at nearly the same time and were thrilled to learn about one another. Many phone calls and emails later, they both feel a huge void in their lives has been filled.

The host asks if John and Bernadette have plans to meet soon. John replies that God willing, they would sometime next year. The hosts asks what he would say to his sister if he saw her today. Then, interrupting, he instructs him to say it to her now.

John begins to speak, but falters, seeing a woman, radiant but unsteady on her feet, making her way up the center aisle.

Bernadette.

Insert your own vision of a surprising and teary reunion here -- the joy and love that has been building their whole lives and especially since they discovered one another? It's all going on right now as you read this....

The Dublin radio station sponsoring the concert heard about John's story and got in touch with Bernadette to see if they could fly her and her husband over as a surprise to her brother. All she could think to ask was "Why would you do this for us?"

And the producer's quick answer? "If I were in your shoes, I would want it done for me."

Bernadette and John. We here in America are thinking of you and praying for you and are thrilled to share in your Christmas miracle tonight.

I'm so excited and honored to be the first media outlet in the world to be able to publish this big scoop. A big thanks to my sister-in-law Cindy for the tip! But seriously folks, if this story doesn't move you, or at least melt a little frost off ya, you might need an emotional transplant. What a great way to kick off our final week of advent. Cindy, if you hear from Bernie, let us know and we'll share some more details of her journey!

Laughing through the tears

Grave digging is grim work.

We lost eight baby bunnies and Hotdog the cat today. Plus the last of our incubated eggs (14 of them never even started to grow) also had to be removed from life support. For some reason it never hatched, but it was a chick in there. So we have exactly one new baby rooster, currently cheeping madly from the kitchen counter.

Hotdog was Jeremy's cat, the shy one I tamed out of the rafters. He loved me best. I think he got hit by a car. I took Jeremy through the steps of it all with me so he would "understand" what happened and not ask me a thousand times where's my cat? So first I had to go across the road to get the cat. Then Jeremy thought I was crying because the cat scratched me (and it looked like he could have as rigor mortis set in and his claws were all popped out and sticking straight up from the box I was carrying him in.) Then he thought Hotdog was sleeping. Then he thought we were putting Hotdog in the dirt to be funny, like sand over someone at the beach. The whole time I am explaining, "Hotdog isn't coming back. he's up in heaven with God. A car hit him and he died. His body is here but his soul and Hotdogness are up with God. We need to say goodbye to him. We need to pray that God will watch over him."

So we did all of that together and he worked hard shoveling dirt, but when we went to cover the cat's face he didn't like that. Didn't think Hotdog would like that. So I started all over, explaining how Hotdog couldn't feel it, he was gone to heaven, it was ok, we had to bury him and say goodbye.

When Bob got home, I wanted to see what Jeremy understood about what happened so I told him to tell daddy the sad news...

He tucked his head to the side, looked down and said in a sad voice:

"Hotdog went to Texas to visit his grandfather...."

Death is a challenging thing to explain to a 2-year-old, no? Kind of like explaining the virgin birth or the ressurection to a 4-year-old. I don't fully understand it all myself. So that, thank God, is where faith takes over.

-- Meg Ferrante (from my journal, Spring 2008)