What will I remember about Christmas 2010?

I realize the number of days we’ll all wake up on Christmas morning together are very numbered…

We added one to our home this past Christmas to join in the fun we have together…

She is blessed in the fact she will always have sisters to share life with…

I thank God for giving me this past Christmas to watch over my most valuable gifts this side of Heaven. To be with them on Christmas morning…a white Christmas morning! I don’t take it for granted, and vow I never will.

We are blessed in my home. Not for all we have…but because we have each other. I will always remember this first Christmas we shared together…always.

I pray God blesses each of you in a mighty way in 2011, and I thank Him for the blessings He gave me in 2010.

One of my favorite things from this Christmas

As I think back on this Christmas just past, I'm grateful. There were lots of blessings. But I think one of my favorite events was when our family participated in advent wreath devotions together each Sunday in December leading up to Christmas, on Christmas eve, and then on Christmas morning (I know, not coming from a liturgical church I've never been able to get the sequence to where I'm in time with the rest of everybody. My oldest son is Catholic and he explained that it's supposed to be every Sunday starting with the one following Thanksgiving and that it's OK if it lasts past Christmas).

Sometimes I feel like I'm not as effective of a mother as I'd like to be. Heck, sometimes I even feel like I've failed. The truth of the matter is that sometimes I have failed. But God is so good to me, and the Holy Spirit frequently encourages my heart that He knew exactly who I am and how I'd be, and that He chose to give me the sons he gave me because He wanted me to be their mom. Anyway, my middle son does not appear at this time in his life to be spiritually interested. When he was young he proclaimed faith in Jesus as His savior, and announced that He wanted Christ to be first in his life and to follow after Him. But it seems as if he's meandered away from this in the last couple of years. The other day when he was complaining about how boring church is (the joke among my sons is that it seems like I am always commenting as we drive away from church how wonderful it was, how I felt God so near during the song and worship time, or how deeply the sermon moved me, or how every time I see so and so at church my faith is encouraged by her, or some such thing). My husband John commented that it's all about object relationship; I'm not sure that my son got John's point but I sure did. John's right, when we love God, we delight in His word and so a church where the Word is everywhere is just naturally attractive. Anyway, I'm digressing here. It's just that given this son's lack of spiritual interest and my youngest son's current lack of desire to be around me, I was so grateful that they willingly participated each week in our advent devotions.

I was grateful that God made a way for us to make time in our crazy, conflicting, schedules to sit together in the candlelight and read scriptures and talk about our hope, love, peace, and joy because of Christ. To celebrate God's coming to earth in human flesh. During those few moments it was as if time stood still and we were at peace together. Somehow the boys stopped all their critical, teen age talk and reflected on something larger than themselves and their school friends and world. There weren't a lot of words, we mostly just read the scriptures and prayed the scripted prayers, but it was a genuine experience. It made sense of the season and I know it helped me stay focused on the real meaning of Christmas and to put lots of potentially stressful situations into perspective.

What about you, what was one of your favorite things from this Christmas?

This Christmas

This Christmas certainly wasn't one of the most moving experiences I've ever had, but they were nice.  That's enough for me.  Sometimes family drama overshadows what Christmas is all about.  Nashville had a white Christmas which is very unusual. It wasn't much snow compared to South Dakota where I mostly abide, but it was nice for the folks here.  Our family in Connecticut is dealing with the newsworthy snow.  I liked the silence and the stopping that happens with a major snow in New England.  Of course, it does have to be shoveled so I don't miss that at all.

My Tennessee backyard at Christmas

The view from our apartment in South Dakota before we left

Remember me telling you about the miracle of my grandson? Here he is reading Luke 2 for us on Christmas Eve.

Now that's special and moving... He was blessed by his church who took him for some much needed clothes shopping. I feel so hopeful about this boy.  Such a miracle.

I've been writing a lot this Christmas about Christmases long long ago as a child in Brooklyn.  You can find them on Sounds of Hope.  Particularly, I want to share the last one I wrote after this Christmas.  You can find that one here.

Then on my other blog, you know one isn't enough - I write three places, I wrote about this Christmas on Storehouses of Snow - you can read that here.

It's been a good Christmas.  I have found the hope of Christmas once again.  I am looking forward to the future.  That's the best gift I've gotten. 

Snow and Donkeys, Who Would Have Thought?

On December 23, I went to the best Christmas presentation I have ever seen. A family in our community has a farm. 32 years ago they were caring for a deaf foster child and to show her the Christmas story which she did not know, they went out to the barn and placed the baby of the family in the straw. The other members of the family acted out the parts amongst the barn animals.

The production was simple, yet powerful. Mr. Downing still narrates the story with passion. Members of the community participate and there were loads of angels and shepherds on hand. They have over 300 costumes at the ready for any one wanting to be an angel, a shepherd or a wise man.

There we stood, in the snow covered field, with hundreds of others singing Oh Come Let Us Adore Him as loud as we could.

It was not the production or the costumes that were great; nor the sound system, but the passion and the Spirit that was present. I cannot remember one quite like this. It was the greatest display of God’s presence I have felt at a Christmas service in many years . There was another one that was also amazing, you can read about it HERE.

The very words, “Prince of Peace,” “King of Kings”, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” and “Christ the Lord” rang in our spirits and caused some to weep. And never have I heard this verse at a Christmas pageant: John 7:38 Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”

You’d think that a spiritually tingly service like this would be enough, but then they invited all the guests in for hot cocoa and cookies – hundreds and hundreds of us! The family (not a church) did 4 shows!

I met one of the sons (in a very crowded farm house); he looked right through me, as he wished me a Merry Christmas. “Thanks for coming and celebrating the birth of our Savior,” he said.

Who are these people? I thought – and I am still thinking that.

What we need is real Christianity, not a bunch of religion. It's easy to poo-poo Christmas; however, I guarantee you, that if I am alive next year, you’ll find me in a little snow covered field in rural Massachusetts adoring my King and Savior amidst the smell of cows, donkeys and sheep.

How about you, what was the most moving time you had this Christmas season?

Oh Holy Night

Call me sappy, or even cliche, but I absolutely adore and cherish Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

I'm not going to generalize in my post today. No, I'm going to be very personal and specific on my feelings when it comes to Christmas. There's no doubt I completely enjoy the time spent with family and friends during this time of year, and I also enjoy the opportunity to give gifts in appreciation to others. Food is unmatched in quality and quantity as we celebrate, and everyone seems to be just a bit nicer to one another for whatever reason.

But for me, there is no other time during the year that I feel closer to God. Honestly. Not to seem or come across overly pious or righteous, I strive each day to walk with my Lord and spend time in His Word and conversing. Granted, some days are more successful than others, but any lacking falls directly on me or my efforts to draw close while trying to keep the distraction of the world at bay.

I was asked to pray before service this past Wednesday night, and in a moment of shear humility and appreciation, I stumbled as I prayed expressing gratitude to God Almighty for the greatest gift every given to mankind. For a second, I was overcome by the magnitude of what that gift means..not just during Christmas...but forever and ever as I will one day be transformed into a state of evermore...into eternity. Praise God for such a gift! An undeserved, unobtainable gift only available because of His love and grace for us.

As Christians, we profess things like "Jesus is the reason..." and "Keep Christ in Christmas", and I absolutely support the effort to remind the world Christmas starts with Christ. But, it is during the 30 hours or so starting on Christmas Eve that I find myself in constant reflection on what it must have truly been like for a poor, travelled Jewish couple...away from home...to watch as the Savior of all mankind came into the world. God chose Mary and Joseph, and as people of faith in God, there must have been an unbelievable feeling of peace fall upon both of them as they looked upon God's promise. A feeling of certainty that no other parent at no other time in history has ever experienced. They gazed upon the Almighty in such a fragile form...but still omnipotent and completely in control.

I heard a wonderful sermon last week on the unsung hero of the nativity story - Joseph. His wife Mary is the subject of numerous songs and stories encompassed in Christmas. Even the shepherds, wise men and stable animals have prominent places of display in the nativity scene. While I ponder and reflect on the role each one plays in the ongoing narrative that continues to move closer and closer to the world's final moment, my mind is incapable of understanding the immense amount of love Jesus had to leave Heaven, separate from His Father and walk daily in a world infused with sin.

Granted, I know I should strive for such appreciation daily in my life and not just at Christmas. I truly do. But during the festival we refer to as Christmas with all the tinsel, lights and other flashy pageantries, one miracle dominates my thoughts and emotions without question...Jesus.

He is the only reason I can be closer to my Father.

Merry Christmas and I pray God lives in you this and every other day throughout the year.

No Room for a Christmas Child

I am reposting this from last year.  It's been translated into Norwegian and is supposed to appear on a website in Norway this Christmas as well.  If you are interested in this theme, of Norwegian Christmases in Brooklyn, you can find more at Sounds of Hope.  Hope you enjoy!


I have many Christmas stories. I imagine everyone over the age of ten has at least a few Christmas stories. I always thought of myself as a bit of Christmas child. No my birthday isn’t in December or near Christmas. My birthday comes in early November. So why am I a Christmas child? Well I suppose everyone who knows Jesus is a Christmas child. So how is my story different? I think that my life in Christ started at Christmas.

My parents were born-again, spirit-filled people. My spiritual heritage runs very deep.  From what I understand, I was “unexpected.”  My father was already in his 50’s and my mother, 19 years younger than my dad was in her early 30’s. They had decided ten years before that their family was complete.

God evidently had something else in mind.  I came along. 

Our family traditions were all Norwegian. Christmas Eve was the start of Christmas in our Norwegian neighborhood in Brooklyn. We put up our tree and had our presents all on Christmas Eve.  We were still singing around a Christmas tree well into January.

Christmas day was for church.  We’d dress up in the morning and walk to church. It was just like Sunday minus Sunday School. Sometimes we would crunch in the snow or put on galoshes for the slush of a melting snow. There was a holy hush on Christmas morning.

Of course, I remember nothing of my first Christmas. I was seven weeks old. I would beg my mother to tell me the story though; I loved to hear it.  That first Christmas my parents walked to church on Christmas morning with me.  It was the first time I was carried to church. I imagine I was wrapped up in many blankets.

That Sunday morning, a white haired tall Norwegian Pastor with a strong accent asked the Yohannesen’s (Johannesen) to come to the front.  Something very special was going to happen that morning. The new baby girl in the Yohannesen family, Yoyce Ann Yohannesen was going to be dedicated to the Lord.

That morning, my parents passed their unexpected infant daughter over to Pastor Dahl. He prayed. I wonder if he had any prophetic sense when he prayed over me. In recent years, I’ve had a sense that my dad had some prophecies concerning me. Did any of them know or sense anything then?

It all started there… it all started in a little Norwegian Pentecostal church where everyone had an accent and sang about the Vonderful Grase of Ye-sus.  My life was given over to the Lord.  No, it didn’t assure my salvation, but it did start something.

Every Christmas as the annual church Christmas program would near, I would have to learn a long “piece.” A “piece” is your part of the Christmas program. It starts when you are barely old enough to talk and you get up and say “Welcome baby Jesus” and sing Away in a Manager complete with motions. The parents beam and pray you don’t cry or do something inappropriate like pick your nose,  wet your pants or worse.

 We had an old upright piano. My mother didn’t play well but she would look for a song for me to sing. A solo! In addition to the LONGEST piece or narration in the program.  Early in my life, she found a song for me. The words of the chorus have stayed with me all these years:

"No room for the Baby in Bethlehem's inn,

Only a cattle shed!

No room on this earth for the dear Son of God,

Nowhere to lay His head!

Only a cross did they give to my Lord,

Only a borrowed tomb!

Today He is seeking a place in your heart,

Will you still say to Him - no room?"

Year after year after year, I would stand with a new outfit on, in front of the congregation, and sing this song.  I always thought someone would come to the Lord, every time I sang that song.

My father was a janitor at a bank, my mother a homemaker. My father never went to High School and my mother didn’t finish it. They lived in a two-bedroom first floor railroad flat apartment. Times were hard for them. They had no room for the new baby that God gave them. Nevertheless, they made room for me.  And then, they dedicated me to the Lord.

Jesus came to earth as an unexpected child. There was no room for Him that night in Bethlehem.  That seems tragic. There is a greater tragedy. It is that we make so little room for Him in our hearts.

Today I ask you that question that I sang for many years. 
Today He IS seeking a PLACE in YOUR heart! 

Will you still say to Him - no room?

The C Word - The Reason My Daughter Doesn't Have Pink Mittens

Merry Christmas to the Kingdom Bloggers and all our readers. We want to thank you for reading along this past year, and wish you a joyous Holiday Season complete with a Prosperous New Year.

David is going to take some time off for Christmas, so I hope that you'll enjoy my Christmas post over at Fire and Grace. I will be back at again next Monday.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year filled with the Lord's blessings and the Joy of our Savior, Jesus.

If the world would just stop and listen to Linus van Pelt...

One of the fondest memories I have from my childhood is the exuberance and joy I felt each year when CBS aired A Charlie Brown Christmas. The show first came on in 1965 and has aired annually since that first broadcast (except now on ABC).

I had the privilege of sitting down with my own family and watching it recently...and I still got goosebumps at this famous monologue:






ABC did a very good job promoting the show this year too. Just when I'm ready to throw in the towel when it comes to any form of media...I get a ray of hope that not all Christian values have been abandoned by the mainstream. At least ABC continues to let Linus tell us what Christmas is really all about...

See you next on Christmas Eve. God Bless.

Sometimes the joy is in the smallest of things

One common theme this week here at Kingdom Bloggers is that we all adore Christmas!

As I've been thinking about what to write about Christmas, I just kept thinking of some of the special Christmas moments I've experienced. Some of my fondest memories are the little things that happened, that seem to represent who someone was at that time in their life, or that showed their true heart. I figured I'd share a few of those:

It was the year when my sons were around 7, 3 & 2. Since I came from a home with very few Christmas traditions and I'd enjoyed every single one of those; I'd decided that when I had my own children, I'd work to establish meaningful traditions. I wanted to teach them the truth of how it is better to give than receive, and we did a lot of activities to that end. One of which was that presents were grouped under the tree by giver, and the big deal was getting to hand out those presents to the person for which you'd chosen it, and watch them open that gift. I'd taken each of the boys on a shopping trip for their father and brothers. They didn't have much money to spend but they enjoyed the whole experience of looking at the options and picking that one special gift for each person. My middle son was totally captivated by these plastic/rubber alligators (which he insisted were "dinosaurs") that he'd seen at the store. He even had enough money to get both a red and a green one for his oldest brother and he thought they were absolutely wonderful. I can still remember the look of glee on his face when he gave them to his brother; he thought they were so cool and was so excited to get to give them to his big brother!

A couple of years later the boys got into Legos, especially my oldest who by that time was around 9. The younger two boys had spent hours picking out just the right Legos set that they could pool their money together to afford to buy their oldest brother, and that they were certain he would enjoy. I can still remember a few days before Christmas when the boys and I were in the car and my youngest son was about 4 by that time. This 4 year old had been warned repeatedly about not telling what anyone got for Christmas because it was a fun surprise and he'd assured us that he was a big boy and could keep a secret. The boys were talking about presents and Christmas and the youngest pops up and tells the oldest how much he was gonna' love the Legos they'd gotten him. His middle brother and I looked at him aghast - he'd shared their surprise! He was totally unconcerned and looked at both of us knowingly and said "oh but I didn't tell him what kind of Legos!"

I can remember so many years when I was single, and we lived in a condo, and the boys were in late elementary school and early middle school. They relished the Christmas chain. They would argue amongst themselves as to who would break the chain that morning and they'd see what activity we were doing for the Christmas season that day. Sometimes it would be to buy presents for project angel tree, or to bake Christmas cookies, or to do the advent wreath - whatever the activity, they were always excited because it all represented the overall joy of the season.

Every year we decorate the house and there are a few things that just seem to mean Christmas to our family. One of these is a large ceramic nativity set that I painted close to 30 years ago. We've put out that set, and the barn that I purchased to put the figures in and around, every year of the boys lives. Over the years however some of the pieces have broken and been glued back together. It's almost become a contest with my husband and sons as to who can do the best glue job, who makes it look like it had never been broken. But last year when I put out the set I could not find the head of one of the wise men. I looked and looked and looked but just couldn't find it. But I really like that wise man, and you just have to have three wise men. So I figured it is more about the effect than the details, who would ever notice that this one figure's head is missing. The set goes by itself on top of our fire place mantle. I'm part of a small group of women that meets two times each month at my house. We meet so that we have time set aside to invest into one another's lives; when we meet we sings songs of praise, adoration, and worship to God, we pray for one another, and we study the Bible together. Last year during the time we were singing, just as we finished one of the songs, Kathy looks at me perplexedly and asks "what happened to your wise man's head?" So much for no one noticing! (Yes I do still have the entire set out again this year. Maybe Kathy is the only truly observant person in my life!)

Things have changed so much with the passage of time. My sons are older and at that stage in life when they're much more interested in doing things with their friends, than with their family. But I notice that they still seem to appreciate the advent wreath time we spend together and still seem to enjoy the specific foods that we enjoy during the holiday season and on Christmas day. They still seem to like seeing what I've put into their stockings for them. This year will be the first year my oldest son will not be home for Christmas. He got married last May and he and his wife are both in the army and currently, because they are both in special training schools, they are not stationed together. But I think they will get to spend a few days together at Christmas.

What about you, what are some of your special Christmas memories?

The Potentate Was Late But I Wasn't

People think I'm a busy person now.  I don't.  I don't because I used to be so much busier.  I think I must have thought I was "super woman."  I wasn't.  I guess I just have some sort of strong internal drive.  It was the mid-90's.  Most of my children were still all living at home.  In fact, alternately we had a permanent house guest.  On top of that there were boyfriends, girl friends and other friends who would be in and out of our house.  It was not unusual for me to come home from a full day at work and put supper on the table for 16 people.  I could do all this within an hour of walking in the door without doing a magic trick.  And I want you to know there was no hamburger helper in my house.  It may not have been gourmet all the time but it was a good home cooked meal.

My job was no less demanding.  I was the Director of what was the largest Senior Center in the state.  This particular facility served people with disabilities of any age.  Housed in an old school building, it was a large facility where you could buy handcrafted items, visit the snack bar, exercise either with a class or with equipment, learn to paint and draw, get your toe nails clips and basic health services, see the Special Olympians practice or see the one of a kind, only 4-H group for children with disabilities in the state.  This was my domain.  I was over the whole business.  I supervised professionals and non-professionals, union and non-union.

So before this sounds like a resume rather than a blog, let me tell you just a bit about my church life.  I was in charge officially and unofficially of almost everything.  During the 90's I was the Sunday School Superintendent as well as helped lead the women's ministry. The church had no secretary so I did the bulletins and I also made sure there was toilet paper in the men's and women's bathroom every Sunday morning.  I told you I thought I was super woman.  I love it.  I loved being busy.  I loved serving people at my job and at church.  I miss those days.

It was September.  It was time to start thinking of a Christmas program.  Rather than a simple pageant fitting a small church, I decided to take on a full musical.  By a strange chain of events, I came across The Great Late Potentate.  I listened to the music.  I read the script - It was delightful!  Enlisting the help of a music teacher who went to the church, we started.  Parts were assigned, cassette tapes were given out and the mayhem began.  This now occupied all of our Children's Church time throughout the Fall.

There was excitement in the air.  A seamstress in the church got busy and made costumes for the children of Bethlehem.  The children were to tell the story of the year the four and missing Wise Man finally showed up in Bethlehem, a "one camel town."  A teen boy was asked to be the Potentate.  He came from a rough neighborhood and wasn't a church boy.  He did great.  The night of the performance he was turbaned and ready to go.

I directed from the church balcony.  We made it a multi-media presentation. I had slides made that actually went in a carousel projector to highlight certain parts of the story.  Selected people had headsets hidden under their head coverings so I could give directions from my perch in the balcony.  That night there were more people in the church building than had ever been there before.

It has always seemed miraculous to me that a program like this seems doomed for failure during the last rehearsal and is wonderful in front of the audience.  It's no less miraculous than the multiplication of loaves and fishes.  But there was another miracle that year.

I am always doing Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve.  It is rather quite comical that I bring home gifts, wrap them and that same evening we open them - we always open presents on Christmas Eve.  As I prepared for the Potentate, I still had my demanding job.  I still had to cook and clean and do laundry.  At work December meant a budget had to be prepared for submittal to the Town Council.  The Town Manager wanted every penny accounted for, an analysis of every program with a cost per unit was required.  All this and Christmas shopping had to be done.  Nothing could wait.  And on top of that there were rehearsals for the Potentate.

There is one year I was ready for Christmas with all my shopping done by December 15.  It was that same year that I directed the potentate.  I remember so clearly thinking, how did this happen?  To me it was a miracle.  A voice inside me told me something - it said:

the little boy with the loaves and fishes gave all he had and put Me first, put Me over his own needs, not only was He fed but everyone was.  Joyce, you put me first this year, you put the Kingdom of God and these precious children first - now I've multiplied your energy and time - the gifts are bought and under the tree, your budget is done - now Rest in Heavenly Peace