In This Great Big World, Can You See the One? by Linda Maynard

Let me explain the title.

When we quote John 3:16 “Go so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever shall believe in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” we see the word WORLD and think of the masses. Is it not true that until the Word pierces our heart, personally, it can be dismissed with thinking “Oh yea…I know that God loves the world. Yep, I know that."

But it becomes life changing ,when we realize”He loves ME!”

This truth makes my heart leap still.

Years ago, I was focusing my prayers the Middle East. Then I was transported … my thoughts? In the spirit? I don’t know. I found myself seeing a Muslim woman Her face not fully covered, so I could see her injuries. She had been badly beaten and she actually had some of her teeth knocked out. I “knew” her name (It sounded like Betina) So I spoke her name and prayed a prayer specifically for her.

I remember thinking…Lord, you know her by name. That prayer was addressing her need personally.

I had never experienced anything like that before.

Another time I was praying, I was as if I was flying…on an eagle? like an eagle? I don’t know which.

I was going over the United States and praying, as the Holy Spirit led. Suddenly we were above New England.

Quickly the speed and direction changed and we flew straight down. The flight path was strategic and narrowly focused.

Where we had been high over New England, we were now headed into the heart of Maine, into the deep woods.

I “knew” by revelation of the Holy Spirit that this prayer was targeted for a man who lived in a cabin. The Lord chose to touch this man…that day and in way, only God can understand.

All I know is that the Lord pierced that man’s heart with a revelation of His love, which this man had heretofore never considered.

Now how does all of this bring me to a most memorable Christmas, that I experienced?

I have written about this before but I don’t tire of telling my testimony because this part is a miracle of Christmas. 

It is about LIGHT piercing the DARKNESS, not only over mankind, but being targeted towards a scared, unwed and pregnant teenage girl, who lived in New Britain CT. 

It didn’t happen in a church or a temple and the messenger he used was unusual. 

She is a Jewish woman, by birth. 

She is considered a great star. 

The Christmas songs, in which she sang about THE Star, were what awakened me to the realization that life was worth living.

To her they may have just been words on the page…to me they were words of life.

Her name is Barbra Streisand. 

Through her voice and music, God used her to break through the darkness that entombed my soul. 

Hope exploded in its place like an array of fireworks.

Despair was left in ashes.

Emmanuel…the One she sang about, came!

Yes He came.

He came for ME!

Just like He came for the beaten Middle Eastern Woman. He wanted her to know…” I came for YOU!”

That lonely man, in the cabin of Maine may have thought “no one cares if I live or die”, but God knew right where that man was living. He knew, no only his physical location but the location of where his soul was.

Yes Emmanuel shouted into the woods of Maine…” I came for YOU’ 

So He came into my crowded apartment one winter. 

He sang. He sang over me songs of deliverance, using the voice of one of His own. 

Won’t you join me in prayer that Barbra, who at least seems to be uninterested in the true God, will nevertheless be found by Him? 

Let’s pray that the day comes, that the final arrow of Love, will demolish all the lies.

May all her walls of fear and all the fortresses of self protection be obliterated.

May she come to know You Lord… as her Yeshua HaMashiach.

Joyous Noel by Jenna Vick Silliman

When I was just a little girl about five years old, I loved the Christmas carols “Oh Come all Ye Faithful”, “The First Noel” and “We Three Kings of Orient Are.” I sang them over and over again and they became a part of me, imprinted on my memory. Now at Christmas time, it is still one of my favorite things to do to sing Christmas carols. Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas without singing those old time Christmas stories put to music.

During our “Prayer Watch” on Friday night the seven of us women were wondering what Noel really meant and so we looked it up. It is a word for the Christmas season of joy and runs from December 24 to January 6^th. So we decided to keep on celebrating this year and hold onto the joys of Christmas time and to me that means to keep singing! The Wise Men arrived after Jesus was born, so “We Three Kings” is a perfect song to sing for a joyous Noel.

Every year I like to think of something homemade to give for special gifts for friends and family. This year I made up booklets of Christmas carols with my top ten favorites. How handy to give them out just in time to do some singing! Usually people oblige me a few songs. Personally, I’d like to sing for a couple of hours! Hahaha!

This fall I took a watercolor painting class and I learned a technique with salt to make “salt stars.” The teacher gave me the class and supplies in exchange for working for her for about ten hours helping her sell her paintings and notecards at Scandinavian festivals. She provided paint brushes, a paint palette full of the basic colors of watercolor paint arranged in a color wheel, and she gave me odds and ends of watercolor paper of various quality and the last few pages in several tablets. Each color reacts with the salt a little differently, but I really like the way the midnight blue was soaked up by the grains of salt to make amazing “salt stars.”

Reading my Bible one morning I decided to read about the star the wise men followed. This one verse popped out to me. “When the wise men saw the star, they were thrilled with ecstatic joy.” (See Matthew 2:10 Amplified.) I decided to paint beautiful blue skies full of salt stars, but to mask off a bit of sky using masking tape cut into the shape of the special star the wise men followed. I think that was the hardest part—cutting out those stars on the sticky tape! At the bottom of each painting I wrote out the verse. What a great gift and Christmas card in one!

I started out with small three by five inch paintings, and as I gained in confidence I cut a bigger piece of watercolor paper to do four by six inch paintings. Then I got brave and did a few five by sevens. The technique is done with sprinkling salt. You paint the area with water, then add a few strokes of paint and wait until it is almost dry and quickly sprinkle on the salt very lightly—almost a grain at a time. There is this magical chemical reaction before your very eyes as the salt absorbs the pigment/color of the paint and makes a crystalline pattern—like snow or a starry night! You wait until the watercolor paper is completely dry, then wipe off the salt. It is amazing how each one comes out differently.

SO fun! I used every bit of watercolor paper I had, and almost all my midnight blue paint, because I didn’t want to stop. I got so absorbed in my project I stayed up until two in the morning painting!

The theme for Kingdom Bloggers this week is a favorite Christmas memory—my painting is one of them. Hahaha! I guess it shows I love my life, I’m enjoying the present, and living in the “now”. Have A JOYOUS NOEL everyone!!!

The Light of Christmas

The people walking in darkness 
have seen a great light;
 on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. Isaiah 9:2.

In the great holiday classic by Dickens, A Christmas Carol, Scrooge has a visitation with three spirits, the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. For Scrooge, a miserly man with no friends who will not even extend a Christmas greeting to his only living family member, his present life is bleak and lonely. Only his Christmas past seems pleasant. He was a different person then, full of hopes and dreams and laughter, until he allowed disappointment to embitter him and money to become his god.

Sometimes our past may seem an easier place to stay: when we were young and hopeful or slimmer or wealthier, when our children ran to the Christmas tree in their footed pj’s, when loved ones were around our dinner table, instead of empty chairs.

We recently watched old videos of Christmases 15 to 20 years ago, to introduce our son’s fiancée to our Christmas past. It was hilarious and sweet and also poignant as the camera captured moments with family members who no longer occupy those chairs.

But the point of the Christmas Carol, I think, is to jolt us to our present, even if sadness is present, and to recognize that we can choose the light of the living. We are alive and while we are still breathing, there is hope and more life to come!

Evil in the hearts of men is real. But the power of God to transform hearts and lives is just as real and has the victory over the dark things people do. Yesterday, not 15 miles from our home, another person chose to plot and kill the innocent. Families grieve the loss of brave firefighters today, because of a man blinded by his own fury and his choice to commit evil.

But his darkness does not have power over God’s goodness and hope. “There is no darkness in our hearts that God is not willing to walk into, shining the light of love and compassion and solidarity with our human condition. There is no sorrow that God does not share. And there is no place any of us can go, including the grave, that Christ has not entered first, hallowing, blessing, and filling all of it with the grace of God.”  Rev. Kit Carlson.

Remember, our Message is not about ourselves; we’re proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master. All we are is messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you. It started when God said, “Light up the darkness!” and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful. 2 Corinthians 4:6.

High-Kicking it at Christmas

This week, we are remembering special Christmas events. After last Friday, Christmastime going forward, especially for those families who have suffered incredible loss, may be both traumatic and comforting. The trauma of losing a child or parent or spouse to a monstrous act is obvious. The comfort comes from knowing the one who willingly left His heavenly kingdom to live as one of us and to die for us, holds the victorious weapon over evil: His love.  "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you." Isaiah 41:10.

My favorite Christmas event involved lots of legs. Watching 36 pairs in synchronized perfection was mesmerizing. Watching my daughters’ faces brighten in wonder and amazement at the singing and dancing was heartwarming. I had thought my son, about 12 at the time, might find it dull, but his eyes never left the stage.

Radio City Christmas Spectacular may not be the usual pious Christian choice for holiday inspiration, especially since Santa Claus makes an appearance, but I don’t remember being quite so moved--and teary--at another Christmas production. I had prepared myself for tourist trap schlock, but instead was treated to a first-rate, thoughtfully produced musical extravaganza that also offered a stunning rendering of the Nativity.

Because the birth of Christ--replete with a blue-black starlit sky, Mary, Joseph and the babe, shepherds, live animals and beautiful music--occurs at the end of the show, it is the images in that scene the audience carries out the doors to the noise and holiday crush on a New York City sidewalk.

Creating special memories at Christmas seems to be an Olympic sport in some families. I just love to cook and enjoy people and put up some special lights. My mother-in-law, however, a longtime Broadway fan, wanted her children’s families to experience what she considered to be the magic of Radio City Music Hall’s annual extravaganza. She gave us quite a gift. 

I confess that today, several years later, I cannot recollect with specificity most of the musical numbers of much of the show, but I will never forget the beauty and the care that the show’s director and cast took with portraying our Savior’s birth. Nor will I forget my six year-old high-kicking it down Sixth Avenue, hoping to be the next Rockette.

The show’s website proclaims the Christmas Spectacular as “an unparalleled Christmas show with universal appeal that lifts the spirits and creates memories.” Yup. Except it was not just the show that lifted our spirits--it was seeing it together. At Christmas.

OK…What’s Barbra Streisand, a set of Rosary Beads, A Friend and the Lord Got to Do with It?

We each, this week, are sharing a time that we were at the brink of darkness and what brought us back.

When I thought of my testimony, I thought of one of my memories of my mom, when she was in a Nursing Home. The Recreation Director shared with me how much she enjoyed my mother. It seems my mom went to the Catholic Mass, the Jewish service and the Protestant service as well. She told Sister Zena that she wanted to “cover all the bases.”

I could see how the mosaic of faith expressions that my mother had, mirrored by own experiences with various belief systems, years later.

Ahhhh…the 60’s. Flower children…peace signs…peace rallies. That didn’t describe me. Rather, I was a scared, unwed 17 year old pregnant girl.

Denial…pretending…hoping…didn’t change the facts. I was with child.

Scared…ashamed…hiding.

I had tried unsuccessfully to miscarry my child in gym class. I thought the pummel horse would do it.

No, he hung on for dear life.

The celebration of Christmas Season came.

The seductive spirit of suicide whispered to me. “It’ll be easy…no more pain…you won’t have to face anyone…you slut. You who everyone thinks is a goody two shoes!”

As I formulated a plan, another voice spoke. “Do you realize that if you go through with your plan, you will not only kill yourself but you will kill the baby that you carry?”

It was as if I was smacked in the face with reality.

As much as self hatred vied for position, compassion won the match. I could not kill my child.

Pretending became an art. Trying to become invisible, as I grew in size…impossible!

Day of reckoning came. Good girl image annihilated. Shame and relief on the same day.

Hiding became an art. My bedroom became my oasis…just  me and my baby. He was all I had.

Mononucleosis…brilliant! That will be the story line. No friends to bother me…shhh…secrets…guilt…shame…swirled around me..

A friend, Loretta barges in, ignoring my request to be alone. I’m at once happy and then angry at her.. A gift… rosary beads? What for?...Sparkling and beautiful they were…hope ascends…God, do You still remember me?... Oh no…remembering now, You are an angry and punishing God…aren’t You?

A hot sweltering day in June…my sister, a nurse verified I was in labor. She was a Godsend; as I was off the charts with fear…Compassionate doctor…will never forget him.

Panic sets in…why are my parents here in this dark room?…why are they smiling?...I touch my belly…noooooooo…where is my baby?...they are still smiling…Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh…GONE!

Following the path of “the right thing to do”, I sign the papers…@ 17…how could I truly understand the legalities. Another mother will have him…the cost for my sin? …It’s too hard to think straight.

Babies crying…dreaming of babies needing me…scornful voices in my head saying that I deserved this fate…”see what happens to a ”so called” good girl”

“Go on” they say…”Put it behind you”…”Think of a future”…folks who meant well.  Did they know that was impossible?...I could barely put one foot in front of another.

Losing my son was a death without a public acknowledgement or a funeral.

Christmas arrives again…nothing about the season is welcomed by me. The babies are still crying and they are reaching out to me. Grief and sorrow consume me…it’s tentacles wrapping tightly round me. I again, was convinced that suicide was reasonable

Out of the blue, Barbra Streisand shows up. Not in person…but in the spirit of the season. So unclear to me still…where did her Christmas Album come from?...a coincidence?…hardly. God knew that music would bypass my pain and deliver me from temptation…so over and over like a hungry bird, I listened to her songs…was it the words?…was it her voice?..No matter…a glimmer…a sliver of Light poked into my darkness with authority and force and infused me with strength to go on.

So my Protestant friend...a Catholic Rosary...a Jewish performer and the Lord

Helped me to...

I CHOSE LIFE!

for Him and for Me

Linda Maynard

The Kingdom of God is at hand...

 Like Joyce, I worship at a church that doesn't follow the liturgical calendar, but I truly appreciate the focus of Advent.

Probably because I despise what Christmas has become...even for Christians.

To avoid making a hypocritical statement for those who know me, it is very true that I love and get into the Christmas season. But the struggle to overcome the hyper-commercial nature surrounding the celebration of the greatest gift ever given in all of human history is at times...exhausting.

I don't think we do any favors to our faith by stonewalling the season as a demonstration we (as Christians) are not 'of the world.' We live in the world. We are commissioned to evangelize to the world. We are commanded to love other and not judge. The Bible is very clear on all these matters. While I absolutely agree that Christians can't act in some of the same manners as the lost around us, I also clearly see the example of Jesus who immersed Himself in some of the most vile of places to be the Light that we are instructed to be. Wait...that's salt and light according to Matthew 5:13-16.

So how do we do it? How do Christians avoid losing the message of hope, love and joy that come into full blossom during the Christmas season to the forces of greed and selfishness that seem imposed?

Focus to me is the key. Focus honed by diligent prayer. The vast majority of at least this country find the unique condition of having a  somewhat softened hearts this time of year (of course, there are exceptions that wield pepper spray while shopping). What better time to plant the seed of the Good News?

The hoopla of the Christmas season is as a direct result of the capitalist society we live, work and play in daily.  The two go hand in hand. Is capitalism a perfect economic system? Absolutely not, but the alternatives are far less appealing and often come with a number of governing restrictions that diminish or destroy personal freedoms (i.e. worship)...and that is not okay by me.

So as the celebration of Christ's birth approaches, I vow to concentrate and focus on what that means to me as a Christian. That will include prayer time asking for guidance from my Father for His will to be done in my words and actions. Starting in my own home, I will be an example for my wife and children each and every day. Through it all...I will focus the honor and glory on the One who is the sole source of my true joy and hope...forever and ever. Amen.

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?

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    

Reindeer Games - Secret Santa and the Yankee Swap

I love Christmas time. Unfortunately, I am usually too busy to enjoy the season. I seem to parachute in a day or two before, and poof, it's gone like a rabbit in a Doug Henning magic act. There's just not enough time from Halloween to Christmas. And besides, our house still smells like pumpkin pie from Thanksgiving for cryin' out loud.

In spite of all that I need to do, I have been trying to be more purposeful in getting in the Christmas spirit. I started playing holiday music on Black Friday, but I have to admit, I switch it over to news radio every time I hear Madonna. It's like oil and water, Madonna and Christmas. I like traditional hymns like We Three Kings, even though they were not there when the real Jesus was born. It took me 30 years to discover the real words did not include "smoking on a rubber cigar." Next time I see my brother, I'm going to punch him in the nose for teaching me that. You have no idea how mad the blue-rinse widow was at midnight mass.

I am not PC - and I say "Merry Christmas" unless you have a "Bah Humbug" button - actually that doesn't stop me either. I guess if I was certain that someone was an atheist, I might say "Happy April Fools Day" - nah, I am more polite than that. If I know that someone is Jewish, then I say "enjoy your holidays" because I still don't know if it's Chan-UH-kah or Hah-NI-KAH. I wish that Adam Sandler's number wasn't unlisted - I am sure he knows. And what the heck - 8 days, that is very cool. It's easier to hit the target! I wonder why Christians didn't choose Chanukah - Hanukkah - whatever it is - for their own? We could have had a over week off!

We've already had a little snow here in Boston - and black-ice and major car accidents. Winter is here, and that makes me want to stay in and watch Home Alone I or II, The Santa Clause with Tim Allen, the original Grinch Who Stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas or Jingle All the Way with the Governator. I even like DOA with Dennis Quaid and Meg Ryan.

Holiday food is good: eggnog, shrimp, hot chocolate and ribbon candy - they are all my favorites. Diets are out the window - it's a time for a celebration! And don't forget regifting the fruit bread!

I don't get involved in all the hoopla over Christmas trees and Menorahs on public property. The only true symbol of Christmas is the creche. I think every church should put one up for the season. And I like Christmas lights - the more the merrier.

I even like shopping - just no money in the budget this year thanks to Dave Ramsey and President Obama.

And yes, I know that Christmas is just a made up Christian tradition - so are church buildings! Oh, and the fact that it falls on a pagan holiday. The pagans can go to h--l, I am celebrating Christmas on the 25th - besides it's a Federal Holiday - and so far the government has not completely ruined it. Hey - If you don't want to join me, most Chinese restaurants are open on Christmas day - you can have yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

Two Christmas traditions I do like are the Yankee Swap and Secret Santa. If you haven't done a Yankee swap, let me start by saying they are better than yard sales! You wrap up some junk you don't want, don't need, and wouldn't wish on your best friend, and then take your chances on giving it away. One guy I know wrapped up a broken lamp and another gave away an entire Laurance Welk CD collection.

Most folks set a dollar limit, and get a gag gift such as a miniature velvet Elvis or Bon Jovi CD. Each person attending chooses a number from one to the amount of folks at the swap. These are most often slips of paper in a basket. And no, this can't be the host's present. It has to be wrapped. It's Christmas, right?

Play starts with number one, who chooses from any present in the room, and opens it. Number 2 chooses an unopened gift, unwraps it and then decides to "keep it," or "swap it" for any opened gift in the room. Number 3 chooses an unwrapped gift and does the same, going through the numbers until all gifts are opened. At the end, Number one gets to swap or keep the gift they have. The official rules are HERE.

Just remember, it is not fair to buy a great gift for $10, when some slug brings a Deep Purple 8-Trac tape.

The Yankee Swap is good for a few laughs, and a good lesson for covetous Christians. If you hold on to a good gift, it usually gets confiscated in the swapping; circulating from one person to the next. If you get a bad gift that no one wants, you'll get to take it home. And number 1 gets to play God, choosing last, once all the gifts are opened. Now that's a real Christian dilemma.

As much fun as a Yankee Swap is, I like Secret Santa. You get to purchase a gift for someone, and they don't know who is buying it. It's a chance to be thoughtful and anonymous. Everyone that participates puts their name in a hat, and then everyone draws one name - this is the person that you'll buy a gift for. This is also a good exercise for Christians. Official Secret Santa tips HERE.

But there is a twist to the Secret Santa game. It's really the same game, but you don't put your name in, you simply choose someone in need, a co-worker that needs to know God, a poor family at church, a foster child, the child of a man or woman in prison - if you need more ideas, just Google "abandon children," "loneliness" or "Christian charities."

I like Angel Tree and Toys for Tots.

The only rules are that you remain anonymous, and give generously. It's pretty easy. And that's what I love about the Christmas season.