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.

Simplify Your Christmas

By Anne Mistretta
I have been thinking about a statement my 4 year old made to my husband and how it could apply to this time of year. The statement was “Dad you are NOT perfect! Jesus is perfect!” (The conversation went from there but this is the part that struck me.)

I look and listen to so many people stressing over making every single bit of the holidays perfect – from shopping to gatherings to decorations to food, etc. So I got to thinking... we aren’t perfect and what does it really mean to me and my family to have a wonderful holiday season? Not perfect, but what is it that we enjoy?

Then I read a short idea in the book Simplify Your Christmas by Elaine St. James that I found worth sharing. Here's what she says: “If you take a poll, be open to changes you don’t expect. Several years ago my friend Henriette sat down with her husband and their four kids the first weekend in December. Each family member made a list of five things they liked and five things they didn’t like about last year’s celebrations. Then they each read their lists aloud to the family.
Henriette was shocked. Not one member of the family liked her plum pudding. Every Christmas for the past sixteen years she dutifully prepared her mother’s plum pudding recipe. It took weeks to assemble and was full of hard to find ingredients. Each year she made frantic trips to the butcher for the suet. Then she had to find a bank for the shilling, and a specialty store for the miniature airplanes, cars, rings, and other symbolic trinkets that were carefully hidden in the pudding.

She prepared it with such love, remembering all the while what a treat her mother’s plum pudding had been when she was growing up. But her kids can’t stand plum pudding. For years they mushed the steaming mound on their plates pretending to eat it, often not even bothering to look for the lucky shilling that supposedly would bring them wealth, or the miniature airplane that meant travel and adventure in the coming year. And somehow she’d never allowed herself to notice.

Now that the truth was out, however, she realized that even though no one liked it, she didn’t want to give up a tradition that was so dear to her. So she and the family reached a compromise. She would order plum pudding from the bakery. When they didn’t eat it, she wouldn’t feel offended – it wasn’t her love they were rejecting. And she got plum pudding without having to go through all the trouble of making it. Mom’s plum pudding is now the family’s holiday joke, but at least no one has to pretend to eat it.

Another family I heard from found out from their poll that the kids were tired of seeing The Nutcracker Suite every year. It was fine the first time or two, but then it got to be old hat. They wanted something different. Last year, they all went to a neighborhood theater production of Arsenic and Old Lace. It was fresh and new to the kids. The tickets were only fifteen dollars instead of fifty dollars, and they didn’t have to put on dress-up clothes and drive all the way into the city. With the money they saved, they had a family dinner beforehand at a nearby restaurant.”

So in keeping with St. James' sage advice, this year I made some changes that have completely simplified and relaxed me and the family. I have never enjoyed the decorating part so we only put up a minimal amount this year and are really enjoying it tremendously. We have not planned to do any of the 8 trillion things that are available at the holidays – instead we have spent time at home playing games, reading, sitting by the tree light and relaxing – we are all happier with less. We even missed church last Sunday--which I am not recommending–but there was something so peaceful in our extra slowness and togetherness that I know Jesus was present in our home during this time. My challenge to you all is find out what it is that really makes your nuclear family enjoy this time of year and do away with the guilt of all the rest.

The Little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head

By Mickie Ferrante
When our sons were little I covered a large shoe box with contact paper that looked like wood. Each time one of the boys did "a good Christian deed," they wrote it on a small piece of paper and we put it into the shoe box under the Christmas tree. Then on Christmas morning that was the bed for Baby Jesus. Their good deeds made his bed soft. As the boys got older they helped their dad make a wooden manger to hold the "good deeds" I am not sure who has that manger now, but over the years, it was filled with many a slip of paper scrawled with the sweet hands of four little boys.

Editor's comment: What an awesome substitution for threatening that Santa is watching so ya better be good or he'll put you on his naughty list. Turn the whole thing on its head to say, "We need baby Jesus to have a warm, fluffy bed. Let's fill that manger high...." Did you ever try to get them to catch you doing a good deed too, Mom?

No beautiful myth, no lovely folklore

You've seen Amy Gottschang slowly but steadily adding to her list of weblinks in the right-hand column. That has been her labor of love for this blog. She has the best blog radar, finds the coolest stuff, and her advent additions have been no exception. I asked her to send me her very favorite she has come across this year. I cannot tell a lie. At first I was a little puzzled. This piece, written by J.B. Phillips, seemed pretty basic to me. But then I re-read it and the words sunk in and I was moved by its meaning. And most of all, I really liked the different perspective. I also adore the webblog where she found it "reprinted," A Holy Experience. The woman who created A Holy Experience is a homeschooling, farming mom of 6 who happens to be an amazing photographer too. Really strong words, a few of her posts have just about done me in!

The post Amy selected is pasted below. To see it on A Holy Experience's website and read more, click this link:
Visiting with the Visitor

“We rejoice in the fact that God has actually been here — and that is one half of the meaning of Advent. That is why, behind all our fun and games at Christmastime, we should not try to escape a sense of awe, almost a sense of fright, at what God has done. We must never allow anything to blind us to the true significance of what happened at Bethlehem so long ago. Nothing can alter the fact that we live on a visited planet. We shall be celebrating no beautiful myth, no lovely piece of traditional folklore, but a solemn fact. God has been here once historically, but, as millions will testify, he will come again with the same silence and the same devestating humility into any human heart ready to receive him.” ~J.B. Philips

Father, we live on a visited planet... may we pause to keep company, to intimately visit, with You who has visited this earth. Do I have time for You? Am I opening my heart for You to come visit me?

To read J.B. Phillips's short story The visited planet
For children to perform a shadow puppet play this Christmas Eve of the coming of the Visitor