The blind man tells the story of Christmas. He was born in darkness and remained in darkness… until Jesus came to him. In his hopeless state, the blind man couldn’t come to Jesus, so Jesus came to him.
The blind man tells the story of Christmas. He was born in darkness and remained in darkness… until Jesus came to him. In his hopeless state, the blind man couldn’t come to Jesus, so Jesus came to him.
Soon the family will be here for Christmas. It’s always a busy and fun time, and often, I crawl into bed exhausted. However, I know myself well. I will awaken early and quietly slip to my sunroom with coffee in hand to spend time with my Lord before everyone gets up. And yet, I also know that the things to be done will plague my thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate on God’s Word and pray.
Oh, the sights, sounds, fragrances, tastes, and textures of my Czech family Christmases! Clove-studded oranges. Fresh, sappy, evergreen boughs bound into garlands and wreaths. Almond crescents, colorful lights, flannel stockings, crunchy peanut brittle. Fresh-baked hoska (braided sweet bread). Hot chocolate. Roasted chestnuts. Christmas caroling outside our front door. I didn’t yet understand most of the carols, but I sang along.
In my first childhood home, our freshly cut Christmas tree stood in the middle of a platform of two four-by-eight-foot panels hinged together. Attached to the platform lay a figure-eight train track. My older brother crafted scenery, a town, and papier-mache mountains with tunnels to scale. We enjoyed many hours playing and trying to keep the cat from chasing and derailing the train! A few presents were placed on the floor next to the train display. As a traditional Czech family, we celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve with a meal of homemade barley soup.
Dad had a particular order for decorating our Christmas tree. First, secure the tree in its stand and wrap it with strands of multicolored, large-bulbed lights all pointing up. Then he and Mom draped aluminum foil garland in perfect arcs that alternated between high and low points from top to bottom at each level. Once the garland was placed, my brothers and I were allowed to add some ornaments, if they were evenly spaced and hung from branches—not the garland or lights. We worked in solemn silence. Mom and Dad gently secured antique, fragile glass ornaments around the top branches. The final step was to grab lots of foil tinsel and place it over the garland, so each piece was straight and untangled. After Christmas, we tediously removed the tinsel strands and packed them back in their designated boxes for use the following year.
After our family tree was decorated sixties-style and the felt tree skirt lay around the stand, our nativity set and stable were unwrapped and placed on the handcrafted stereo cabinet. Joseph, Mary, an angel, a couple of shepherds, animals, and three kingly-type men with gifts gathered around baby Jesus in a manger. This replica of an ancient historic scene was merely a part of our Christmas holiday decorations. But who were these people? I wondered through the years. Who was Jesus? Why do we celebrate His birth? Traditional carols gave me a clue, but not much else
For some reason, I was allowed to choose the family Christmas tree when I was about eleven years old. We planned a Saturday in early December—packed a sack lunch, poured hot chocolate into the Thermos, bundled up, and piled into our late-model station wagon.
I was driving along a country road, thinking about what a year it has been. All the challenges, heartaches and pain started to surface in my soul. To redirect my thoughts, I turned up the praise music on the radio and found myself singing along. I noticed the pretty red, gold, and yellow leaves covering the trees. God’s creation in a beautiful array of colors.
It happened so fast. I was putting my groceries in my car and the parking spot had a slight incline. As I was rearranging the bags, I turned to retrieve the bags to see the cart rolling away down the parking lot. “Stop!” I screamed at the cart!”. It kept on its journey with my walking cane inside the cart. I had no fast way to catch it. Finally, the cart hit a pole only to bounce into a car.
It looked more like an airport than a clinic - security checkpoints, information desks scattered throughout the building. Not wanting to be late for my first appointment, I scanned the building for anyone who looked like they could tell me where I needed to go.
I stood at the window of the drivers’ license bureau, feeling confident I had all the information I needed. When my number was called, I was ready. I could finally check renewing my drivers’ license off my to do list. The lady behind the counter barely looking at me said, “License and birth certificate, please.”
What’s over the hill or around the bend? Does it scare you when you cannot see ahead? My two great-grandsons in the photo were excited to get over the bridge to get to the ocean. A trip to the beach is a big adventure!
I love all beach sunrises—even the gray ones—because… well, we’re at the beach. But my absolute favorite is when sunshine and clouds meet. There’s nothing quite like the beauty of colors revealed as sunlight breaks through the clouds. Only a Creator God could design something so breathtaking.
In a world constantly shifting beneath our feet, where even the most steadfast people, institutions, and laws can prove fallible, what can we truly depend on? While few things are 100% reliable, the Word of God offers an unwavering anchor.
My best friend betrayed me and later apologized, but I could not forget what she did. Even though it’s been years, I still remember the hurt of that betrayal. It threatened to destroy our relaitonship.
Scottish missionary Mary Slessor said, "Christ was never in a hurry. There was no rushing forward, no anticipating, no fretting over what might be. Each day’s duties were done as each day brought them, and the rest was left with God."
Ohhhh, the first breath of the cool morning air, the sun is just beginning to pink the eastern sky and my pesky front yard mockingbird is barely aware I am in his territory. I love this God time! I want to twirl around with out-stretched arms in praise to my awesome Creator God.
I felt the crack in our friendship the moment the lie left her lips. Years of joys and shared life-events seems to shift in my heart with that untruth. For days, I teetered between anger and despair. The Lord detests lying lips (Proverbs 12:22), I preached to myself, justifying my estrangement . As the convicting of his Holy Spirit resurrected memoires of past untruths from my own lips, God's quiet voice told me to forgive with love and grace.
I find hope in this verse. Hope that God can change desperate situations that look impossible. Hope that God will restore joy in the midst of despair. Hope that God will increase faith in times of sorrow. Hope that God will provide friends when others move. Hope that God will bring jobs that have been lost.