All in Jesus
By the end of May the Covid threat was lessening, so when aunt ‘Chelle called to recruit blueberry pickers, grandson #3 and I jumped at the chance. It was a gorgeous day. Didn’t matter that we had to drive twenty minutes. Didn’t matter that they had to take our temperature. We were free, our masks were off, and the blueberries were plentiful. Armed with the secret to efficiency—attach your pail to your belt so you can use both hands—we found a row to ourselves.
The buds on the camelia outside my window survived the January frost again this year—a hint of full blossoms to come. During frosty troubles we too long for perfect days to bloom. “Somewhere deep within each of us is a desire, a longing for a world very different from our own. …The stunning beauty of a sunset, the awe of starry heavens, a deeply moving story or poem, can arouse within us for a brief moment an awareness and desire for our true home.”**
Recently, I had a dream that Jesus was returning soon! It was a surprisingly happy and positive dream! It was similar to the feel of a wedding reception celebration filled with festive foods, confetti in the air, flowers and cheerful music. There were lots of happy faces, people hugging and greeting each other!
Christmas is about... So many words could complete that sentence, but only one word completes it best—Jesus. Christmas is about Jesus! Let us fix our eyes upon our Savior, Jesus, the author of our faith.
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.
Have you been at a restaurant and the noise level is so loud that you cannot hear the person seated right next to you? You can see their mouth moving, but you have no idea what they are saying. Frustrating, right?
Wandering in a little European town often begins with excitement and a sense of adventure! Aimlessly, you can explore cute shops filled with interesting things or charming cafes that invite enjoying a cappuccino and a croissant.
One of my favorite things to do with my little granddaughter is to sing Bible songs with her sing along book. She is only one year old and I am the only one singing, but she is smiling and clapping as “we” sing “Jesus Loves Me.”
If I want the approval of the young, the old and almost everyone in between, I offer them ice cream!
I mean… who doesn’t like ice cream?
Think about this Scripture…
When people commend themselves, it doesn’t count for much. The important thing is for the Lord to commend them (2 Corinthians 10:18 NLT).
What does it take for the Lord to commend me?
Remember our definition of a parable: “an illustrative story that compares or contrasts an earthly reality with a spiritual truth.”* I am intrigued as Jennifer Kennedy Dean** describes the Incarnation as the “lived-out parable” of the love of God. After all, Jesus was not only with God in the beginning; He was God. And with His birth, life, and death among us He would illustrate the spiritual truth of God’s love. A parable “puts flesh on the eternal truth so we can see it.”**
Jesus’ urgency to reveal the secrets of the kingdom to those who believe was prefaced by a connection on a personal level with His true followers. His prayer to the Father for the “little children”—those humbly open to truth—is underlined with love for them: “Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure” (11:25-26).
Ah, parables! There had been a shift in Jesus’ teaching, an urgency to make the secrets of the kingdom clear. Now that He was on the road to the cross, it was imperative His followers understand these truths and pass them on. Parables would touch their hearts and be remembered when He was gone.
The impossible had become possible. The Israelites escaped the tyranny of Egypt, crossed the Red Sea on dry land, feasted on manna and quail, were refreshed by water from a rock, and received the Ten Commandments along with instructions on how to live in God’s favor. And all this in thirteen months. They were at the brink of the Promised Land, ready to roll.
Recently on a trip from the country into the city, I drove by a dense forest. It looked beautiful from a distance. But as I looked closely, I could see most of the trees were covered in thick vines that had climbed to the tree-tops, blocking the light from reaching them. This was not a healthy forest.
