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Wednesday Wisdom: The Gold and Ivory Tablecloth

This is one of my favorite stories. You may ask, “did this really happen?” as it seems so impossible.  I have always thought that it is a true story but cannot verify that for sure. However, no matter if it is or isn’t,  I have heard many miraculous true stories and I do know that anything is possible with God.

At Christmas time men and women everywhere gather in their churches to wonder anew at the greatest miracle the world has ever known. But the story I like best to recall was not a miracle — not exactly.

It happened to a pastor who was very young. His church was very old. Once, long ago, it had flourished. Famous men had preached from its pulpit, prayed before its altar. Rich and poor alike had worshipped there and built it beautifully. Now the good days had passed from the section of town where it stood. But the pastor and his young wife believed in their run-down church. They felt that with paint, hammer, and faith they could get it in shape. Together they went to work.

But late in December a severe storm whipped through the river valley, and the worst blow fell on the little church — a huge chunk of rain-soaked plaster fell out of the inside wall just behind the altar. Sorrowfully the pastor and his wife swept away the mess, but they couldn’t hide the ragged hole.

The pastor looked at it and had to remind himself quickly, “Thy will be done!” But his wife wept, “Christmas is only two days away!”

That afternoon the dispirited couple attended the auction held for the benefit of a youth group. The auctioneer opened a box and shook out of its folds a handsome gold and ivory lace tablecloth. It was a magnificent item, nearly 15 feet long. but it, too, dated from a long vanished era. Who, today, had any use for such a thing? There were a few halfhearted bids. Then the pastor was seized with what he thought was a great idea.

He bid it in for $6.50.

He carried the cloth back to the church and tacked it up on the wall behind the altar. It completely hid the hole! And the extraordinary beauty of its shimmering handwork cast a fine, holiday glow over the chancel. It was a great triumph. Happily he went back to preparing his Christmas sermon.

Just before noon on the day of Christmas Eve, as the pastor was opening the church, he noticed a woman standing in the cold at the bus stop. “The bus won’t be here for 40 minutes!” he called, and invited her into the church to get warm.

She told him that she had come from the city that morning to be interviewed for a job as governess to the children of one of the wealthy families in town but she had been turned down. A war refugee, her English was imperfect.

The woman sat down in a pew and chafed her hands and rested. After a while she dropped her head and prayed. She looked up as the pastor began to adjust the great gold and ivory cloth across the hole. She rose suddenly and walked up the steps of the chancel. She looked at the tablecloth. The pastor smiled and started to tell her about the storm damage, but she didn’t seem to listen. She took up a fold of the cloth and rubbed it between her fingers.

“It is mine!” she said. “It is my banquet cloth!” She lifted up a corner and showed the surprised pastor that there were initials monogrammed on it. “My husband had the cloth made especially for me in Brussels! There could not be another like it.”

For the next few minutes the woman and the pastor talked excitedly together. She explained that she was Viennese; that she and her husband had opposed the Nazis and decided to leave the country. They were advised to go separately. Her husband put her on a train for Switzerland. They planned that he would join her as soon as he could arrange to ship their household goods across the border. She never saw him again. Later she heard that he had died in a concentration camp.

“I have always felt that it was my fault — to leave without him,” she said. “Perhaps these years of wandering have been my punishment!” The pastor tried to comfort her and urged her to take the cloth with her. She refused. Then she went away.

As the church began to fill on Christmas Eve, it was clear that the cloth was going to be a great success. It had been skillfully designed to look its best by candlelight.

After the service, the pastor stood at the doorway. Many people told him that the church looked beautiful. One gentle-faced middle-aged man — he was the local clock-and-watch repairman — looked rather puzzled.

“It is strange,” he said in his soft accent. “Many years ago my wife – God rest her — and I owned such a cloth. In our home in Vienna, my wife put it on the table” — and here he smiled — “only when the bishop came to dinner.”

The pastor suddenly became very excited. He told the jeweler about the woman who had been in church earlier that day. The startled jeweler clutched the pastor’s arm. “Can it be? Does she live?”

Together the two got in touch with the family who had interviewed her. Then, in the pastor’s car they started for the city. And as Christmas Day was born, this man and his wife, who had been separated through so many saddened Yule tides, were reunited.

To all who hear this story, the joyful purpose of the storm that had knocked a hole in the wall of the church was now quite clear. Of course, people said it was a miracle, but I think you will agree it was the season for it!

Facing the Fear

As our congregation bowed in prayer, I found myself distracted by a sudden thought: where is the closest exit? I sighed with relief as I saw a door nearby through half-closed eyes and then went on to think about what I would do if a gunman entered the church. All while we were supposed to be focused on the Lord. I am not excusing myself, but after Friday, I doubt I am the only one finding myself thinking unfamiliar thoughts about murderers and escape routes. What a world we live in.

I never dreamed last week at this time that my heart could feel so heavy for people I have never even met.  That I would be writing about death and murder and fear during the holiday season.  It just feels…wrong. Jesus came into the world to save us and give us eternal life and, while murder is absolutely horrific any time of the year, it seems especially tragic at Christmastime.

We grieve for families we have never met. We hear the cries for gun control from the media. We see Facebook statuses that promote returning God to our schools. Everyone has an opinion.

But there is one thing I haven’t really heard much about: FEAR.

There have been multiple stories of shootings and assaults– Friday’s was the worst, by far, but there have been others. And, if I am not careful, I can start to become controlled by fear.

When something happens like what happened last Friday, we suddenly become aware that we are not in control of our lives. We could be violently shot down at any time. Life could end for us or our loved ones instantly. We start to fear for ourselves, even more for our children. And then the fear grows as we think about what the world will be like for our children and the worry and anxiety can start overtaking us if we aren’t very careful. Or maybe I should say “I”. I may be alone here. Not really sure.

So what do we do in the face of fear?

This has happened to me in the past and there are a couple of really helpful things I do that I thought I would pass along, just in case I am not alone.

1. I thank the Lord for what I currently enjoy.  There is nothing like a tragedy to remind you of the fragility of life and the wonderful gifts we have been given in our spouses, our children, our parents, our siblings, and our friends. We need to thank the Lord everyday for these blessings. Somehow — I can’t explain it — fear lessens in a thankful heart.

2.  I memorize God’s Word. When I went through a very fearful time many years ago, I turned to God’s Word and found many scriptures that speak to fear. I memorized a couple of them and when I would be filled with fear, I would start saying them to myself. It was very comforting and I still go to these verses today when I am struggling with fear.

3.  I am very careful about what I watch and listen to.  I am one who becomes very disturbed in my spirit if I hear all of the negative stuff going on. It will give me such a heavy heart. It is very difficult for me to see that someone’s life has been destroyed and then go about my business of the day. Because of this, I rarely watch any news at all. If something especially tragic happens, I usually will hear about it from someone or see it on Facebook. But I try to be very careful about how much news I feed myself, because that feeds the fear.

4.  I discipline my mind. This is so much easier said than done, although, after many years of practice, I have become much better at it.  I find in my life a tiny thought will become a gigantic worry if I am not very careful.  And so I try to turn my mind away from dwelling on any thoughts of fear and worry.  Although, I have to be honest, I am definitely being tested in this — as is obvious by my thought life in church yesterday!

5.  Dwell on the Truth. God knows all. Nothing happens without His knowledge. Yes, the world’s going to get worse but His grace is sufficient. If we are truly saved, then we truly have nothing to fear. He will take care of us and our children. He will see us through. I have read missionary biographies attesting to this fact. I have talked to people going through the worst of circumstances and yet they see God’s faithfulness clearly. We are not alone and bereft. God has not left your heart or this country.

Fear won’t disappear in an instant. It will take time. And we will think we have it beat and then it will crop up again in the face of the next tragedy or accident or disease-stricken relative. It is a battle I fight on a regular basis. But we can’t give in to it. We are called to live in love, not in fear.

 

PSALMS 46:1-3

God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.

 

Ms. Kinect isn’t always right

Monday’s weather was terrible. It was foggy and damp and downright ugly. It was obvious that I wasn’t going to be able to get my normal walk in so I set up the Your Shape game on XBox Kinect.  My knee has been hurting, but I figured I could modify any exercises as needed. I enthusiastically did a few warm up and cardio routines and then decided to go ahead with a 13 minute toning routine.

3…2…1…begin. Arm up higher. Bend lower. The directions came from a mysterious female voice on the TV (I will call her Ms. Kinect) who could see my every move. I could also see my every move and was trying to match it to the “personal trainer” moving beside me on the screen. If you haven’t experienced seeing yourself on Kinect you are missing out. Well, not really. But the technology is pretty incredible. You can actually see yourself on the screen of your TV. Do you remember the old Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie? If you do, then you will remember Mike TV who ended up shrinking to fit into the TV. Well, that’s what you look like on XBox Kinect. It really is pretty amazing. ANYWAY…

I started doing this toning routine. But it started hurting my knee (and it was a little too hard for me because I’m a bit out of shape, but we’ll just say my knee hurt…!) so I started making up my own modified versions of some of the exercises. I started moving my arms up when the TV trainer’s were down and moving my leg forward when the TV trainer’s leg was behind him. We weren’t in sync at all.

Imagine my surprise when I heard Ms. Kinect say “Bravo!” quite enthusiastically!  She went on to say things like “Good Job!” and “Way to go!” all the while praising me for following my TV trainer so impressively.

It made me laugh because I wasn’t following the trainer at all! To her credit, she did catch my errors a few times.

Oh, my. It made me think. Like usual.

Just because someone says “Bravo!” doesn’t mean it’s true. We can always find someone to say what we want them to say.

If we want to get divorced, we will be able to find someone to say “Absolutely! You deserve to be happy!”

If we want to buy an expensive car or television on credit, we will be able to find someone who says “Yes, what a great idea!”

If we want to involve ourselves in the wrong entertainment, there is always someone saying, “Yes, let’s do it! Let’s go! It will be so much fun!”

So, it would seem to me we’d better seek wise counsel, instead of listening to just anyone. Proverbs contains many verses encouraging us to seek wise and righteous counsel. So how do we know if it’s wise counsel? Here are a few tips to help us–

1. First and foremost, does the counselor’s advice match up with the Word of God? If the counsel is full of just their own opinion without any scripture to back it up, how in the world can we know if it is worthy of following?

2. Is the person counseling us striving to live a holy, righteous life? If they aren’t, then it means they are not walking with God. Notice I didn’t say “perfect life”. It is not about being perfect, but about a desire to walk with God in holiness and purity. If someone is not trying to please God with their life, they will not know how to counsel wisely, because they don’t know Him at all.

3. Let’s be extra cautious if the counselor says exactly what we want them to. There are many people-pleasers who say something just so they will make us happy and no one will be mad at them. These people are not the ones we want to go to for wise counsel. Only those who will tell us the truth are worthy counselors.  Only those brave enough to be honest can be trusted.

These are three things to be on the look-out for when seeking wise counsel for any problem, large or small.

By the way, when I use the term “counsel” I am not necessarily talking about professional counselors. We are all counselors, whether it be to our own kids or our friends or our co-workers. And so, let’s not only seek to find wise counsel, but also to give wise counsel.

This world is full of people-pleasers not willing to tell the truth. It’s full of “counselors” telling others to make themselves happy, no matter the cost.

But just because they are saying it, doesn’t mean it is true. When I heard Ms. Kinect’s words, it was easy. I knew that her words were false praise. I obviously wasn’t doing the right thing. It’s not always so easy in life. But we are called to be discerning and to have a heart ready to listen to wise counsel, whether we like the advice or not. Let’s keep our focus on God’s Word and listen to those who also make it a priority in their lives. And let’s be people who are qualified to give wise counsel– walking with God and willing to tell the truth.

Proverbs 1:5  A wise man will hear and increase learning, And a man of understanding will attain wise counsel.

Proverbs 12:5  The thoughts of the righteous are right, But the counsels of the wicked are deceitful.

Proverbs 15:22 Without counsel, plans go awry, But in the multitude of counselors they are established.

Proverbs 19:20 Listen to counsel and receive instruction, That you may be wise in your latter days.

 

 

Wednesday Wisdom: For the Man Who Hated Christmas

This is the second installment of short stories for December’s Wednesday Wisdom. Many of us desire a better way to celebrate this season. Something that goes beyond the commercialization and self-indulgence that is so popular. This family thought of a great way. I thought it worth presenting here. I don’t know for sure if this is a true story, although my guess is that it is. 

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 It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it – overspending and the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was on the wrestling team at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, “I wish just one of them could have won,” he said. “They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.” Mike loved kids – all kids. He so enjoyed coaching little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That’s when the idea for his present came.

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed a small, white envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done, and that this was his gift from me.

Mike’s smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year. And that same bright smile lit up succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition – one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The white envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children – ignoring their new toys – would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the small, white envelope never lost its allure.

The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree. And the next morning, I found it was magically joined by three more. Unbeknownst to the others, each of our three children had for the first time placed a white envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing to take down that special envelope. Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas spirit will always be with us.

 Christmas Stories: For the Man Who Hated Christmas By Nancy W. Gavin (found here)

The Quest to Find the Perfect Jeans

Disclaimer: This post is for women only. While men may gladly read it, I have my doubts that any of them have ever had a difficult time finding a pair of jeans that fits!

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I think I was on my 100th pair of jeans (okay…I may be slightly exaggerating, but it certainly felt that way!) Most of the styles I liked weren’t available in my size. If they just happened to have my size, they didn’t fit. Once again, I despaired over the extra pounds hugging my body and berated myself for my lack of discipline. I gave up and dejectedly walked out of the store. I went home discouraged.

That evening I went online and ordered three or four pairs of jeans in my size and even a couple in a size bigger–just in case.  I excitedly carried the box up to my room when it arrived. I had high hopes. Surely one of these would fit!

Imagine my discouragement when not one of them fit right. They were either too small or too large or gapped at the waist or were too baggy at the crotch.  I threw them all back in the box to return to the store and decided to just give up my search.

I shared my dilemma with my mom and she suggested I try Target. She told me she likes their jeans. I hadn’t thought of them before. I figured what did I have to lose?

And, so, on Friday, when I had the opportunity to get to a Target, I made one last-ditch effort to find a pair of jeans. I found seven pairs that were in my size and took them back to the dressing room.  I had little success with the first five pairs and they lay in disarray around me.  I sighed heavily and resigned myself to another fruitless attempt of finding a pair of jeans.

I pulled on the sixth pair of jeans and buttoned them. I did a double-take. I stared at myself in the mirror. Not only did they fit, but I actually liked how they looked on my body.  I was pleasantly surprised.

I left the dressing room with one pair of jeans to buy. I still felt discouraged about how I looked, but at least I had found one pair.

I heard yesterday that only 2% of women like their bodies the way they are. That means 98% of us don’t. I confess I am definitely one of the 98%. Why is it that so many of us are unhappy?

Well, of course, weight is a big issue for many of us. But there are other things that we pick out, too. Things like big feet or big noses. Hair that is too fine or too curly. Calves that are too thick or too thin. You see, we have fallen hook, line, and sinker for the world’s definition of beautiful. And I am right there with you.

We judge ourselves by the world’s standards, or shall I say Hollywood’s standards, and come up short. Very short.

But I am not going to sit here and write that we are all beautiful, as seems to be the typical message of the day. We aren’t all beautiful.  Not really.

I would suggest we need to go a different direction. I think we, instead, need to stop worrying about if we are beautiful. Oh, we should take the greatest care possible to look nice and to be healthy. Don’t get me wrong. We are Christians and want to present ourselves as such. We are also stewards of our bodies and are responsible to take good care of them.

BUT it ends there. Our obsessive concern about how we look is not from God. It just isn’t. It is a self-absorbed, me-centered thing that distracts us from being the best Christians we can be.

When I was looking at myself in the mirror trying on jeans, I never gave one thought to what people would think of Christ if I bought these. I was thinking only of myself and how I looked. I wasn’t standing there thanking God for my body, but instead, I was complaining to myself. About myself. Under my breath, of course.

As I write this, I find myself being very convicted! I am so self-centered and focused on me. There is no better time for that to surface than when I am in a dressing room trying on clothes.

Some of us are gluttons for punishment and keep trying things on, hoping that we will eventually feel good about ourselves in something. Others of us totally avoid dressing rooms if at all possible. We don’t shop for ourselves. Ever.

But no one is going to look good in everything. We’re just not. But we think we should. We are focused on a standard that isn’t possible for most of us. We want to look a certain way, but that way takes time that we don’t have or requires us to grow longer legs or to have a different type of hair and so we find ourselves with a dilemma, don’t we? We can’t look that way. But we think we should.

Perhaps it is time to start thanking the Lord for how we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) and then stop thinking about ourselves at all and go about the business of our Savior.

Instead of worrying about how people think we look, let’s worry about how they think we act, and speak. Let’s worry about if they think we love them.

Sometimes I get all mixed up and distracted and focus on things that aren’t important and forget the things that are important. My quest for jeans showed that to me so clearly. I was guilty of doing just that. I have some work to do. But at least I don’t have to visit another dressing room for awhile, since I did find that one, elusive pair of jeans!

When things disappear

My heart sank. The perfume I had used for so many years wasn’t on the shelf –in any form.  I studied the display for anything, even body wash would be better than nothing. But, no, it wasn’t there. I hesitantly approached the clerk, hoping she’d say they were simply out of stock.

Of course, that wasn’t what she said.

“I’m sorry, but they have discontinued that scent.”

Of course, they have.

I am not a real “perfume” type of gal so it had taken me a long time to find just the right scent that both my husband and I liked. I spent the next half hour trying to find another one. With no luck, whatsoever.

I went back a different day a few weeks later and tried again. I settled for one (that I ended up taking back), tried another one (which I used for awhile, but just couldn’t get used to), and finally am using one that’s just okay. But it’s not the same.

Meanwhile, on my shelf are my half-finished bottles of my favorite scent. I am afraid to use them, because I don’t want to use the last drop.

But if I don’t use them, I will never use the last drop.  Instead, they will start to get that funny, strong smell and become unusable.

OKAY, so who cares?

Well, when we were hunting for the Christmas tree, my mind became a bit nostalgic. It’s just not the same as when the kids were small. Now, they are so big and none of them really care all that much. We still all go together (for which I am very grateful), but the excitement of having Christmas with little ones has disappeared.

Now we have Christmas with young adults. And I have been quietly mourning, carefully keeping the last vestiges of childhood around the house. The only plan I ever had for my life was to be a mom. I enjoy it tremendously. But my “Mom”  job description has been changing quite dramatically these last few years.

The other day, I decided it is finally time to get rid of some of the toys! So, I dragged my girls down to the basement and we started sorting. Oh, the memories that came flooding back. Going through bins of dolls and barbies and trucks and games and books. The picture books especially made me sad. I loved reading to my kids. No one in my house needs me to read to them anymore.

My mind went back to the perfume.  I could keep it in a bottle forever or I could use it. Those were my only two choices.

My mind came back to the toys. I could keep them all here, lonely and unused in the basement or I could give them away so they would have a new home (memories of Toy Story 3 are coming back here– no wonder I cried at that movie!) Those are my two choices.

But no matter what I choose to do, the scent I loved is never coming back on the shelves. No matter what choice I make, my little kids are gone forever.  And while I may never be able to find another scent that I love as much as that first one, the young adults that have replaced my little kids are amazing!  I feel so honored to be the mother of these young people who love the Lord and desire to please Him with their lives.

We haven’t finished the toys yet, but I am going to be getting rid of quite a bit. Oh, I will keep a few for the grandchildren that hopefully will be along someday. But it is time to face the fact that my “small children” days are over and clear things out of here.

Meanwhile, I am going to choose to be grateful for right NOW.  I have so much for which to be thankful –not only for the special and wonderful family memories I already have but also for the memories we are making right now.  I am blessed.

Wednesday Wisdom: Mrs. Hildebrandt’s Christmas

For the Christmas Season, I am going to dedicate Wednesday Wisdom to sharing some beautiful short stories. The first story I would like to share is from Joe Wheeler’s Christmas in My Heart, Volume 19. It is called “Mrs. Hildebrandt’s Christmas.”  It was written by Robert Smith many years ago.

It is a great reminder that there are many lonely, heartbroken people who could use some encouragement during the holidays. We can not only bless them by reaching out but also be blessed. There is such tremendous joy when we give of ourselves to others. And, oh, what an important lesson this is to teach our children! I hope you enjoy this story–

            It’s been 30 years since I last saw her, but in memory she’s still there every holiday season. I especially feel her presence when I receive my first Christmas card.
            I was twelve years old, and Christmas was only two days away. This season’s first blanket of white magnified the excitement.
            I dressed hurriedly, for the snow was waiting. What would I do first – build a snowman, slide down the hill, or just throw the flakes in the air and watch them flutter down?
            Our station wagon pulled into the driveway, and Mom called me over to help with the groceries. When we finished carrying in the bags, she said, “Bob, here are Mrs. Hildebrandt’s groceries.”
            No other instructions were necessary. As far back as I could remember, my mom shopped for Mrs. Hildebrandt’s food and I delivered it. Our ninety-five-year-old neighbor, who lived alone, was crippled from arthritis and could take only a few steps with her cane.
            Even though she was old, crippled, and didn’t play baseball, I liked Mrs. Hildebrandt. I enjoyed talking with her; more accurately, I enjoyed listening to her. She told wonderful stories of her life – about a steepled church in the woods, horse and buggy rides on Sunday afternoons, and her family farm without running water or electricity.
            She always gave me a dime for bringing her groceries. It got so that I would refuse only halfheartedly, knowing she would insist. Five minutes later, I’d be across the street in Beyer’s candy store.
            As I headed over with the bags, I decided this time would be different, though. I wouldn’t accept any money. This would be my Christmas present to her.
            Impatiently, I rang Mrs. Hildebrand’s doorbell. Almost inaudible at first were the slow, weary shuffles of her feet and the slower thump of her cane. The chain on the door rattled and the door creaked open. Two shiny eyes peered from the crack.
            “Hello, Mrs. Hildebrandt,” I said. “It’s me, Bob. I have your groceries. “
            “Oh, yes, come in, come in, “she said cheerfully. “Put that bag on the table.” I did so more hurriedly than usual, because I could almost hear the snow calling me back outside,.
            As we talked, I began to realize how lonely she was. Her husband had died more than 20 years before, she had no children, and her only living relative with a nephew in Philadelphia who never visited. Nobody ever called on her at Christmas. There would be no tree, no presents, no stocking.
            She offered me a cup of tea, which she did every time I brought the groceries. Well, maybe the snow could wait.
            We sat and talked about what Christmas was like when she was a child. We traveled far away and long ago, and an hour passed before I knew it.
            “Well, Bob, you must be wanting to play outside in the snow, ” she said as she reached for her purse.
            “No, Mrs. Hildebrandt, I can’t take your money this time. You can use it for more important things,” I resisted.
            She looked at me and smiled. “What more important thing could I use this money for, if not to give it to a friend at Christmas?” she asked, and then placed a whole quarter in my hand.
            I tried to give it back, but she would have none of it.
            I hurried out the door and ran over to Beyer’s candy store with my fortune. I had no idea what to buy–comic books, chocolate, soda, ice cream. Then I spotted something–a Christmas card with an old country church in the woods on the cover. It was just like the one she’d described.
            I handed Mr. Beyer my quarter for the card and borrowed a pen to sign my name.
            “For your girlfriend?” he asked. I started to say “no,” but quickly changed my mind. “Well, yeah, I guess so.”
            As I walked back across the street with my gift, I was so proud of myself I felt like I had just hit a home run to win the World Series. No, I felt better than that!
            I rang Mrs. Hildebrandt’s doorbell. The almost inaudible sounds of shuffling again reached my ears. The chain rattled and the door creaked open. Two shiny eyes peered from within.
            “Hello, Mrs. Hildebrandt, ” I said as I handed her the card. “Merry Christmas.”
            Her hand trembled as she slowly opened the envelope, studied the card, and began to cry. “Thank you very much, ” she said almost in a whisper. “Merry Christmas.”     
           
 
            On a cold and windy afternoon a few weeks later, the ambulance arrived next door. My mom said they found her in bed; she had died peacefully in her sleep. Her night table light was still on, illuminating a solitary Christmas card. 

 

Keeping My Eye on Polaris

Polaris is the North Star. It has been incredibly helpful through the ages because it doesn’t move. While the rest of the northern sky is filled with stars that move constantly, Polaris is consistently in the same place. Through the centuries, sailors and travelers of all kinds would use this star to find their way home.

Did you know we Christians have our own “North Star”? It is the Word of God. People change, cultures change, but the Word of God is always the same, providing us desperately needed direction in a world full of moving morals and vacillating values.

Sometimes, I just can’t believe how different my world is than when I grew up. Oh, not so much the worldly world–that’s always been bad, but I am referring to the Christian world. Christianity today has become much more about what makes me happy than what makes God happy. It amazes me what has become the norm in the church today.  There is blanket permission on sin of almost every sort within the church.  Gambling and cursing aren’t only allowed, they are actually promoted by some pastors. And I am amazed at the violent and sex-filled DVDs that fill the shelves of Christians.  Be gay, have an abortion, get divorced. Do what you need to do to make you happy. And it is all okay.

But the Word of God tells us it is not okay. The Word of God still says that we are to put good things before our eyes (Psalm 101:3), to be good stewards (Matthew 25:19-29), to value children (Matthew 18:6; Psalm 139:13-16),  to stay married, if at all possible (Matthew 19), and that homosexuality is not normal (Romans 1:26-27). We are still to keep our Christian brothers from stumbling (I Corinthians 8:9-13) and to please God by living a pure and holy life (I Peter 1:13-16), separate from the world (James 1:27). Yes, we are to be in the world to share the good news, but we are not to be part of the world.  In fact, John 15:18-25 tells us in no uncertain terms that we should quite expect to be hated by the world.

This hasn’t changed through the ages, no matter what the modern day church is telling us.

I remember seeing John MacArthur on Larry King Live after 911, the terrible tragedy of 2001.  While the New Ager and the Muslim and the Jewish rabbi kept giving their “learned opinions”, John did one thing and one thing only. He humbly pointed people to what the Word of God says.  You see, it doesn’t really matter what you and I think. It only matters what the Bible says. And, contrary to modern day opinion, the interpretation does not lay in a puddle of ambiguity and uncertainty. But that’s a topic for another day.

And so I am so very thankful for God’s Word. It has and will continue to be my North Star in a world full of chaos, hypocrisy, and deception. It is the only thing that truly remains consistent. And I thank God for His foreknowledge and wisdom in providing the Bible for us. He knew we would need it!

Read more about Polaris here. It’s actually quite interesting!

How do we keep love from fading?

We met the man and his family while they were going through a personal tragedy. His wife had just had a miscarriage in the last couple of days and it was a rough time. They already had a couple of young children and seemed like a very nice Christian family with whom we could enjoy a friendship. Alas, circumstances often dictate who you truly get to know in life and so we were never able to develop a relationship with them.

Fast forward a couple of years.

Eric is giving an estimate to a lady who has a lot of time to talk. She tells him about the couple across the street who are going through a nasty divorce. Words like prostitution and pornography come up.  Eric tries to be polite but he is really there to give an estimate. But the more she talks, the more he starts to suspect that he may know who this couple is.

When Eric arrived home we did a little investigating. Oh, how sad. The couple getting the nasty divorce is the couple we met a few years earlier. Our hearts ached for them. What in the world had happened?

This story is not a strange one to any of us. All too frequently, a husband or wife is trapped in sexual sin, marriages break up, and life changes drastically for the entire family.

But why? How does this happen?

I do not even begin to presume I have the answer to this. But I can think of a few ways to protect ourselves from being “that” couple. Of course, you are only one half of the equation, so that is what makes it tricky, isn’t it?? But, for what it’s worth, here are a few suggestions–

1.  Get to know God by faithfully reading His Word, praying, and listening to godly {doctrinally-sound} men expound His word via church and podcast. How can we even know what pleases God if we don’t know His Word? Conviction can be conveniently bypassed if we aren’t in tune with God.

2.  Talk, talk, and talk some more with your spouse. No secrets.  Keep communicating even when it is really hard. And, trust me, it is really hard sometimes.

3.  Forgive and move on. I know it sounds so basic, but it is so critical. Forgiveness holds the key to many of our relationships, quite honestly.

4.  Protect your spouse. Don’t downgrade your spouse to your co-workers or on the sidelines of the soccer field. Sure he may be a jerk or she may be lazy, but that doesn’t give us the right to talk negatively about them. If you are really struggling, pick one or two godly counselors or friends who can encourage you to make biblical choices and keep your mouth shut around everyone else.

5.  Be the same person at home as you are at church.  Who are we really?  You have heard it said that true character is who you are when no one is around. There is a lot of truth in that.  Do you make the choice to do what’s right even when no one is looking?  We need to be same person no matter where we are. By the way, this is key in keeping your children’s hearts, as well. No one respects a hypocrite.

6.  Don’t be too proud to ask for help. Sometimes the problems are so big, you know that your marriage will not survive without some help. Be very careful to choose a godly counselor. I heard a story many years ago of a couple who went for Christian marriage counseling and a few sessions in they were told they should get a divorce. Come again?  That is not Christian marriage counseling.  Just because someone says they are a Christian counselor doesn’t mean they are. Get references and mission statements before entrusting your entire life in their hands.

7.  And, last but not least, have fun together!  Nothing is better for Eric and I than doing something fun and outside routine together. It is a great reminder of why we fell in love in the first place.  I know how tough it is to make time for this. Our schedules are so busy with soccer games and piano lessons and homework and church commitments and work functions and…the list could go on and on. However, it is critical that we make this a priority. It helps us stay connected as married couples.

These are seven tips, but I am not so naive to think that it is that simple. I know that so many struggles and problems that arise in marriages stem back to childhood issues never resolved or affairs never discussed. There are many cases of abuse and pride and addictions. Christian marriages are facing an explosion of darts from the enemy. However, I do believe that if we could put these seven tips in place in our own marriages, we’d have a new beginning on a great marriage! And we know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it is God’s will for us to love each other and stay married ’til death do us part.

As much as it is up to us personally, let’s keep our marriages strong and healthy.

 

This is linked up here :)

Intentional Christmas

Thanksgiving has come and gone and that can only mean one thing–it’s time to enjoy Christmas!  But do we truly enjoy it? Or do we often end up enduring it? And if we are only enduring Christmas, how do we move from endure to enjoy?  I know lots of people have a variety of thoughts on this.  Some will tell you to just stop sending Christmas cards or to only buy three gifts for your children.  Others talk of not making cookies or of cutting down on their decorations.  But what works for someone else may not work for you. Here are five basic ways that will help anyone enjoy– rather than endure– the Christmas season.

1.  Worry most about what God thinks. Family comes second.  Co-workers, cousins, and others come a distant third. This makes a choice between a work dinner and your child’s program so much easier. It also helps to clarify when choosing between Christmas Eve service at church or a get-together with friends. Oh, I know it’s not that simple and sometimes circumstances dictate certain choices. But this principle can be a helpful starting point.

2.  Examine which traditions you enjoy most and keep doing them. Do you love to bake Christmas cookies? Or perhaps you receive tremendous joy from seeing your house lit up on a dark winter’s night? Others enjoy sending out Christmas cards and making homemade ornaments and shopping for others.  Whatever it is, choose what you love and keep doing it!  Some of you are truly energized by doing it all and there is no detriment to your family life. If that’s the case, good for you!  But if there is something that just isn’t important to you or your family–well, then consider not doing it. The world will not end if you don’t bake Christmas cookies or hang Christmas lights outside.

3.  Ignore the voices around you and mind your own business. You will hear people this time of year start complaining about how much money is spent on gifts or how many lights so-and-so put up or how much food Mrs.______ makes or –you name it–people always find things to criticize. The glorious fact is that the there are truly only a couple of opinions that matter. They are God’s and your family’s. When criticism comes your way, contemplate it for just a moment. If it makes sense, do something about it. But if it doesn’t, just ignore it. On the flip side, provide the same courtesy to others around you. If your neighbor chooses to put up the most beautiful, homemade garland around her door, don’t mutter about the waste of time but, instead, be sure to tell her how amazing it looks! And if the neighbor on the other side chooses not to put out one single decoration, then leave them to make that decision without any criticism from you.

4.  Keep the focus on Jesus. Jesus truly is the reason for the season if we are Christians. But, more and more increasingly, Jesus is not part of the world’s Christmas, where they instead turn their attention to Santa, elves, and occasionally talking animals or angels.  But we have a responsibility to keep Jesus the center of our season.  Whether we are buying gifts or making Christmas cookies or choosing what entertainment to include in our Christmas season, we must remember that we are celebrating because Jesus came to earth to provide a way for us to be saved from our sins. We, of all people, have a true and incredible reason to celebrate!

5. Don’t throw real life routine completely out the window.  We have to be careful we don’t get so busy that we stop having our devotions.  We are not at our best if we are not spending time each day with the Lord. And we need to continue to exercise and eat properly and stick to our budgets. Life doesn’t stop for a month, and if we pretend like it does, we will have consequences to pay on January 1.

So there you have it–a few simple ways to make sure that we enjoy this Christmas season, rather than endure it.  Merry Christmas!

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