COMMON MATTERS

CHRISTMAS MYSTERIES

Ever tried to explain the mystery of Christmas to a five-year-old?  You wonder what they grasp.  While babysitting my granddaughters Saturday night, Haylee announced rather excitedly, "We watched a Jesus movie last night, Grama."  She'd seen The Nativity Story (By the way, you need to get that movie if you haven't seen it).  Haylee continued chatting about the movie, and seeing Jesus being born.  "I saw His mother, Mary, and His father, Joseph."

"Well, Joseph took care of Jesus, sweetie, but God is Jesus' father."

"But Grama, Joseph was Jesus' father."

"Yes, sweetie, in a way.  He took care of Jesus while He was growing up, but God is Jesus' father. Joseph was Jesus' earthly father."

Haylee looked up at me and debated, "Uh, Joseph was His earthly father, but God was Jesus' Heavenly father."  I thought she was getting it a little.  I mean, how do you truly explain the virgin birth to a child?  The birth of Jesus is such a miraculous event.  No other like it ever in all the world.  His birth was prophesied 700 years earlier in the book of Micah and Isaiah.  No one ever prophesied any other birth or any particular person with such accuracy 700 years before it happened.  A star signaled His coming and guided the wisemen to Him after His birth.  A virgin peasant girl conceives God's only Son before she was ever married because the Holy Spirit came upon her.  Simple but miraculously mysterious.  Far more than a 5 year-old can totally grasp.  Many adults can't grasp it.  Haylee had not given up reasoning it through:  "Well, Grama, God is my heavenly father, too.  He's everybody's heavenly father."

So much more to explain.  So much more to learn.  But I think for the most part, Haylee is on her way to understanding the real reason we celebrate Christmas.  The complete understanding of how Jesus was born and why, will come.  For now, she knows Jesus is the reason for this season.  And that is what matters most.  Merry Christmas everyone! 

LUCKY STARS OR GUARDIAN ANGELS

Remember me telling you how I go to the mall with my granddaughters so they can play in the play area?  I did that about a week ago and, well, I forgot to tell you something rather remarkable that happened.  On the way into the mall, I pushed the button on my keychain to lock the car.  It's a habit.  Nothing of value was inside my car, but my trunk was filled with all my purchases from all my shopping trips for Christmas gifts.  I didn't want someone to be able to punch the inside trunk latch and have an early Christmas on me.  The girls and I were inside the mall about an hour and a half.  When we came back to the parking lot, my trunk lid was open.  Wide open.  I took a quick intake of frigid air and my heart leaped in fear.  There goes Christmas.  Immediately I realized I had probably mistakenly popped the latch on my trunk when I locked the car on my way into the mall.  I went to the trunk and took a quick inventory.  Not one item was gone that I could tell.  I thanked God for watching over my car.  There were all kinds of cars around mine.  Anyone could have taken anything they wanted and walked it over to their car and put it in their trunks.

I thought about why all my things were still in the car.  It's a busy time of year.  It isn't like the parking lot had police standing around it guarding all the cars.  I like to think that people are basically very honest.  I think many folks would never think of reaching into another's open trunk and stealing the items within it.  Yet there are the small percentage who might think my stupidity was an open invitation for them to have what they wanted.  It made me consider all the things that may pass through a person's mind should they encounter a situation like that.  Had it been me who'd passed by an open trunk, I probably would have looked to see if there was anyone inside the car.  And if there wasn't, I would have shut the trunk.  That's me.  I would have worried that the person had done exactly what I had done.  Accidently left it open.  And I would intervene.  Surprisingly, no one who passed by my car thought to close the trunk.

Some folks may think this was a fluke.  My lucky day.  A remarkable coincidence.  Then again, it is possible no one even saw that my trunk was open.  Yeah...I think that is entirely possible.  Rather than lucky stars, I believe in Divine intervention.  Personally, I credit the Lord for protecting my belongings.  I believe He had a shield of angels around my car.  And you can't convince me otherwise.  selahV

Closer and Closer

The closer I get to Christmas, the more excited I get.  I have such fun with my grandchildren.  There is a wonderment and majesty when we view everything about Christmas through their eyes.  Friday night my hubby and I built our Gingerbread House with the aid of two of my son's two girls.  Our house was trimmed in peanut-brittle stone pieces.  Everyone that passed it, wanted to pull off a chunk to eat.  For the first time in four years of competing at our church's annual contest, our walls stood strong and tall.  The joy I felt in that accomplishment was eclipsed only  by the aggravation I felt over my unstable roof.  Our roof left a lot to be desired.  Large gaps between the graham-crackers would allow Santa's reindeer easy access.  If Santa landed on it with his sleigh, it would never have bore the weight.  Alas, it still looked pretty, and we are getting closer and closer to winning the votes of all the other participants.  For three years running my daughter and her family have won with unbelieveable Victorian constructions and log-cabins with shingled roofs that looked like Santa's elves could live in it year-round.

We watched my daughter's two girls along with my son's two girls on Saturday night while she hosted a Sunday School party.  We went to the mall to eat at the food-court's Chinese eatery.  It's one of their favorite spots and each girl loves the broccoli and rice.  After we stuffed ourselves, we played at the kiddie play area.  The multitude of kids proved there were tons of moms shopping while dads watched the children.  My four girls enjoyed chasing each other around the Mall's giant building blocks, drum, and Teddy-graham bear.  It was so much fun watching their relationship as cousins grow closer and closer.

After the mall, we went to Elmer's Park to view the lights.  Each girl "oohed and aahed" at the various displays.  We couldn't ride the horse-drawn carriage because it was so very cold, (maybe before the season is over).  They each picked favorite light displays and their votes revealed the best was the dancing Christmas trees.  If ya haven't been to Lawton's display by in the prairie-dog park, it's a great place to take your kiddos.  They take a donation at the end to help keep the displays and they give the kids a free candy cane.  Fun.

From place to place the girls sang carols.  Well sorta.  They sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and songs they made up along with We Wish You A Merry Christmas.  It was hilarious.  And they laughed and giggled and so enjoyed each other's company.  It goes to prove that girls 11, 8, 5, and 3 can easily communicate and have fun together despite the age differences.  All year-long we do things I hope can brighten their lives and create opportunities to build memories that will bring them closer and closer to one another as they grow older.  I wonder.

If all year long, each of us try to brighten one another's lives, could we build friendships and communities that would bring us closer and closer together?  It could be a tiny thing like lunch with a friend who is hurting, or picking a teenager at church to encourage with cards and hugs on Sundays.  What would brighten another's life?...what would brighten yours?  I had no idea I had brightened someone's life this year in a darkened time.  Then I received a Christmas card with one of the brightest messages I've had in a very long time.  I was so grateful God used me in some small way to encourage her through sad times.  But most of all I am grateful God is bringing us closer and closer to one another.  It's a wonderful gift to have during this season.

COMFORTS OF THE SEASON

It's time to break out the Christmas trees and rummage through boxes to find ornaments and decorations.  I promised my granddaughters that we'd put up my Christmas trees after Thanksgiving.  After we'd polished off a couple of pies, the first thing Haylee said to me was, "Are we gonna decorate the trees, now, Grama?"  I had to laugh at how literal a five-year-old can be.  "After Thanksgiving" to her meant as soon as the dinner was done.  She didn't even think we needed to clear the dishes.  Dinner was over, so Thanksgiving was over.  Time to move on to Christmas.  At least Haylee waited till we'd eaten the turkey.

Retailers don't even wait that long.  They have Christmas in the stores along with Halloween costumes.  In fact, we could all probably dress as Santa and his elves for Halloween if we wanted to.  Alas, what to do about retailers trying to jump the gun on every season and rush us through one to get to another.  Slow down and enjoy the moments, the gatherings, the selection process of gift-giving.  Bake a few extra batches of cookies and take them to the neighbors.  Breathe.

Saturday I cleared off the areas I wanted to decorate for Christmas.  I usually have about 15 Christmas trees of various sizes placed all through the house.  It's kinda like a wonderland.  The girls (all four of them), love to decorate the trees with tiny angels, gingerbread people, and birds.  I have doves, bluejays, cardinals and robins.  "I love the bird trees best," Haylee said as the girls were discussing the trees.  I don't always have all the girls at once.  But this year I will.  So I will get all the trees in place and leave the decorating to them on Saturday.  Friday we'll go to our church, First Baptist East, and build a gingerbread house together.  It's become an annual tradition.  My granddaughters look forward to it and mark their calendars as soon as we know the date for the event.  Togetherness, family, fun.  A comforting thought to look forward to and back upon.

There is a comfort in activities at Christmas. It grounds us to remember why we do what we do--the Reason for the season.  The season seems to hold so many bonding traditions--for family, for friends, and even strangers.  We tend to be a bit more generous, more patient with those who are impatient, more encouraging for those in need of encouragement.  Traditions build bridges from yesterday and into tomorrow.  There is continuity from generation to generation.  The traditions created today don't have to be ones we've done in the past.  When I discover something I did last year that the girls find joy and happiness in this year, it becomes a tradition for years to come.  So this year it's the birds on Christmas trees and I think...the baby Jesus beneath every tree.  What greater comfort is there?   

THURSDAYS WEREN'T MADE FOR TURKEYS

As a child, I never looked forward to Thanksgiving.  For weeks before school break, we'd draw pictures of turkeys, corn, and pie.  We learned about Pilgrims, and Indians coming together and giving thanks for what they had because of how harsh conditions were in early New England colonization of America.  Classmates talked about Thanksgiving like they were going to have some feast like the Pilgrims.  They were all going to grandma's house.  For some kids, that was far away.  Thanksgiving fell on Thursday every single year.  Why Thursday?  I hated Thursdays more than any day of the week--worse than Mondays.  Thursdays guaranteed our family a big white porcelain bowl filled to the brim with bean soup.  It was tradition.  Don't ask me how that got started.  I can only speculate.  Family traditions are weird sometimes.

As a child, we never had Thanksgiving on Thursdays.  Daddy went deer-hunting on Thanksgiving Day.  That was another tradition.  We didn't have stuffed turkey and all the trimmings.  We had our normal fare.  We had bean soup with big, fat, dried, white, lima beans and tiny, near-invisible specks of bacon.  If we wanted to, we could add some chopped onions to the hot soup.  Suffice it to say, I hated bean soup.  I'd sit at my spot at the kitchen table and dip my spoon into the bowl and search for those tiny little specs of bacon.  When mama wasn't looking, I'd put a group of those big fat beans in my napkin.  My brothers never told on me.  They did it, too.  When we'd all transferred a fair amount of beans into our napkins, we'd sporadically get up and head to the bathroom to flush our sins away.

I don't remember ever having any kind of pie on Thanksgiving Day--not until I got married.  Then, we went to my husband's grandmother's home for Thanksgiving.  Talk about traditions.  They lived in Connecticut.  I do believe they must have believed they were direct descendants of the Pilgrims and Indians combined.

We arrived early in the morning at Gram's.  Pies were in the oven, on sideboards, on bedroom dressers, and stored in the fridge.  My husband's grandmother, mother, and aunt filled the place with apple, custard, pecan, pumpkin, and cream pies--usually two of each.  We began eating from the time we got there till the time we left.  Fancy cut-glass dishes filled with homemade fudge, nuts, and olives, pickles and celery sat on every end table, kitchen and dining room table.  Bowls were filled with pears, oranges, apples and grapes.  I could not believe my first Thanksgiving at Gram's house.  Thanksgiving dinner consisted of three roasted turkeys, stuffing, gravy, boiled potatoes, cooked turnips, home-cooked cranberries (not canned), peas, corn, tossed salad (filled with every fresh veggie imaginable), fruit salads, and hot dinner rolls.  We usually had about 25 people there, not including Gram's great-grandchildren running and crawling around.  Adults played penny-ante and the children played with one another and gorged themselves on candy, cookies and brownies.  I don't recall any fighting among them at all.

Times have changed.  Traditions have changed.  Gram went home to be with the Lord over two decades ago.  My husband's mom and aunt have long since stopped the Thanksgiving dinners.  Their kids have all started their own traditional gatherings, with their own children and grandchildren.  With all the different families, there's no telling what traditions have been carried on in everyone's home.  We'll be eating at my daughter's home this year.  Our family usually takes time, just before we dig into our turkey dinner, to each share something we are thankful for.  We can get pretty sappy at times.  When my turn comes, I think I will thank God for all the precious memories of family gatherings...and that I don't have to eat bean soup.

"THE PROBLEM" WITH SMALL TOWN PAPERS IS NOT A PROBLEM

Most of you know I write articles for the internet; it's called blogging.  I love it.  Fast-track to publication.  No waiting.  Immediate readership.  I can even track when readers come to my site and visit (don't know exactly who they are, but it helps to know I'm being read).  In the world of hard-copy publication, sometimes material (even when accepted), may not be published for years.  One article I wrote took 2 years to make it into the magazine after acceptance.  But blogging puts a story on the street immediately.  Because an article is placed in linked archives, anyone can retrieve it at any time.  If the story isn't time-sensitive, then it can live on just like a book on a library shelf.  Right now, I probably have about 4 books-worth in my archives of inspirational, yada, yada, stories and devotionals.  I'm also blessed to contribute devotionals to other websites.  Blogging has opened up an entire new world of publishing for my writing.

This past week I happened across a blogger who'd posted his disdain for small town papers.  Specifically the Oak Ridger in Tennessee.  He didn't think a story about a lost kitten who was tracked down and found miles away by a family who love it, was worth the paper and ink it was printed on.  He complained that such stories were the folly of small town newspapers--"the problem".  It kinda grated on my nerves.  So I commented on his post and wholeheartedly disagreed with him.  I think these little positive human interest stories are vital for small town papers.  The big-city papers seem to seek the tragic, the horror, the gore of society.  They live for the juicy gossip and an expose' of society's ills.  In some cases, if the story isn't gamey enough, they slant it to provoke the ire, incite the baser side of humanity, and ignite a flame that is barely a flicker in the wind.

A small town paper seeks the best of a community.  It looks for stories that describe the heart of their community.  They want to know what makes the community unite, breathe, and grow.  They want to report stories for their readership that emphasizes the best of them.  The advertisers want to advertise in papers that give the best side of their hometown and the residents of that town.  The better the community, the more folks will want to frequent the businesses advertised.  The kinder the community, the more people will want to purchase homes and raise their children in that community.  The more support the businesses give the community, the more the community will support them.

Small town newspapers deliver that kind of refreshing content.  Their prized photos depict volunteers doing something for the town, children enjoying a local event, and teams improving the character of young citizens.  We like to read about the success of our schools.  Subscribers love to read about the folks in their own town, their accomplishments, the good-neighbor stories.  A sweet adventure story about a family in search of a lost kitten and a happy ending is a story children can read.  It confirms that life is not all hatred, trouble, tragedy, and loss.  Why do small town papers exist?  Because folks want to know what's going on in their own town.  They want to know that they are contributing to a better county, state, and country.  They want to hear what their elected officials are doing to make that happen.

Small town papers are not ashamed to tell the stories of churches which promote moral guidance and express compassion for the hurting and needy.  They aren't afraid of focusing on the faithful people serving others as a visible proof of their love of God.  Papers like this one and thousands of others across the country are the backbone, and bloodstream of America.  And I'm rather proud to be a part of "the problem" the blogger brought to my attention this week.  Thanks so much for reading us. 

IN A WEEK'S TIME

Ever look back on a week of your life and wonder where it went?  What did I do?  What impact have I made?  What good has come of it?

Last week I spent a good deal of time with no voice, or a partial croaking.  Battling a cold placed me in front of the television with my computer in my lap.  I watched the accounts of the health-care debates and was sorely disappointed that it passed the House.  I know it will affect me in large ways if it ever makes it into law.  The law-makers do not seem to care what difference it will make in my life and the millions of lives of other people who do not want this bill.  As long as the President gets to sign something in the Rose Garden, they achieved something last week.   

My blood boiled when the news reported the massacre of our American military in Fort Hood Texas.  My heart exploded with heartache for all those family members who lost loved ones.  As a Christian I am trying to come to grips with my anger towards Major Nidal Hasan.  How did such evil grow inside his heart, such hatred in his mind for fellow military, for Americans?  Why must I forgive him?  He destroyed so many lives.  Yet, God tells us to forgive the man, even if we cannot forgive the evil act.  I thought about how our servicemen did everything they could to save Hasan's life after he'd opened fire and murdered so many innocent people.  Therein lies the difference between maniacs and civility.  Even when one's beliefs and ideology produces hate and death, the godly do all they can to preserve life.  The godly forgive.  The godly do not lower themselves to live like animals.

I thought about what I could write today that might console and comfort.  What will inspire and encourage?  This past week tore at the core of my soul.  It ripped a hole in my opinion of the American way of allowing all faiths to co-exist.  Then I realized afresh, the extreme is not the norm.  The radical is not the majority.  The world is full of evil and sometimes it touches us in ways we cannot fathom.  Yet everyday we rub shoulders with it.  Animosity.  Anger.  Bitterness. Ignorance.  Prejudice.  Biases.

We often walk through our lives giving no thought to the lives of those we meet along the way.  We take for granted the people we see every day.  Our minds are so consumed with our own needs, our own problems, our own struggles, that we do not consider the battles our friends, family and co-workers are fighting.  We think we have it so bad that another's heartache goes unnoticed.

As I try to make sense of yesterday, I know I must cling to the smallest of good I've witnessed, or have been part of.  I saw hundreds of people outside a church where a funeral had just ended.  They'd been there to comfort.  I saw a toddler share a toy without coaxing.  I saw a harried mother take time to coddle and love her little girl.  I saw a couple of ladies introduce two people who could encourage one another in a heartbreaking situation of mutual need.  I saw a college student who had reports to finish, tests to study for, take time to teach children about God.  I heard words of sympathy, prayers of intercession, offerings of praise for others.  Amid the impatience, rudeness, irritation, and apathy I witnessed, I still saw the goodness of God manifested in the actions of others.  I hope you can, too. 

FIFTY DAYS TO GO

Have your started shopping yet?  The Trunk 'R' Treaters are behind us. All that candy they collected in church parking lots across the nation will last kids till Christmas. We have only about 50 days to go, (depending on when you read this).  Christmas.  Have you made out that list of gifts?  Scheduled all the activities for dinners, tree-trimming, cooking and baking?  Found your mailing list for greeting cards? 

I cannot believe it, but I actually have one gift purchased.  Found it on super-sale.  That's what I'm talking about.  If we begin looking now, we can be selective and purchase a couple of gifts a week, and be done before Christmas. 

Ever get frustrated because you don't know what to get someone?  I think if we stop and really listen to folks, we'd discover all kinds of things they'd like.  For a few months, now, I've been writing things down that I've heard my family say they'd like to have.  They'll be surprised I remembered or even heard them say anything.  If you don't have a list or a clue, begin listening to your loved ones.

Ever do that Black Friday shopping?  You know; it's where everyone stays up all night (depending on their diligence or insanity level), to stand in a cold parking lot, and wait for the doors to open so they can be the first person to grab the latest GIZMO or THING-A-MA-GIG.  Nuts.  Totally nutzo.  [Disclaimer to those who do this:  I really do not think you are mentally warped, just a bit crackers.  I apologize if I offend you.]  I admit that I have shopped on the day after Thanksgiving before.  The hustle and bustle of folks thrilled me...until someone got nasty and pushed another out of their way, or snapped at a harried store clerk.  I'm not one to rush into a store and stampede over folks.  There's simply too much pushing and shoving going on these days.  Too many people are greedily grabbing and reaching and snapping at one another.  Somehow that just doesn't put me in the Christmas spirit at all.  Rude is never in season.

I love Thanksgiving.  It grants me time to reflect on the blessings I've received all year from family, friends and God.  I am always overwhelmed with the abundance we have on the dining-room table.  Can we ever tire of turkey and gravy?  Is there ever a reason to rush through dinner to get to apple, pecan, and pumpkin pies?  Not at our house.  We start eating pies as soon as they're cool enough to slice.  It's that kind of seemingly limitless time and bounty I cherish at Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving is the appetizer for Christmas.  We think about why we are grateful.  Then we are ready to give because we've received so much.  And so many are in need this year.  So many folks out of work.  It would be nice to make Black Friday, Green Friday.  We could look at someone's family who doesn't have as much as us and give them some green-stuff so they could go shopping.  We could sacrafice something we want to get something someone else wants.  And ya know what?  We don't even have to wait 50 days.  We can start doing that right now.    

Habits We Inherit

What habits have you inherited?  I think back on my childhood and remember many things I learned from my step-mother.  She made quilts from clothes we outgrew.  Her mom did the same thing.  I never made a quilt.  But I learned to cherish old stuff.  I enjoy old things people made and treasure things that folks cast off and throw away.  Mom had tons of this stuff.  Sometimes it is called junk.  But I especially love old wooden dough-bowls, rolling pins and antique crocks.  I like old linens and have several pieces of crochet work framed and hanging on my bedroom wall.  Okay.  I confess.  I am a packrat.  I inherited it from my step-mother.  But that is one trait in me I did not pass on to my daughter.

When my daughter first got married, I sat down and wrote out a bunch of recipes so she would know how to make my spaghetti sauce, beef stew, stuffed porkchops and various other dishes.  Through the years, when my daughter cooked, she'd call and ask how long to cook something, or if a certain dish could be frozen, etcetera.  My daughter rarely calls me anymore about cooking.  She's learned how, and is one of the best cooks I know.  Now she makes her sauce, stew, and chops.

As her mother, I often wonder how many of my habits I've passed on to her.  Some areas that I consider weaknesses in myself, I've watched her develop into strengths.  She is an organizer, administrator, take charge kinda person.  I'm a spur of the moment, creative, let things flow kind of person.  She confronts; I encourage.  She expects; I accept.  Is this a direct result of her methodical, determined quest to be different from me, or do we simply have gifts that lead us to react differently in the same set of circumstances?  How much is innate and how much is learned behavior?  I'd like to think I've passed along some good traits.  But to be honest, I think God had more to do with her development into the person she is today, than me.  And I think that is a good thing.

NEW MEANING TO THE WORD HOT-CAKES

For lunch Sunday, I went to an Indian Taco fundraiser for the Hulen Volunteer Fire Department on Rt. 65.  The building buzzed with conversation.  Just the aroma of homemade tacos being deep-fried just outside the door, made my mouth water.  A lady sat and collected donations for the meals.  Hulen's fire-chief dipped burger meat, and another lady added beans in an assembly line.  We got to pile on the fixin's.  I couldn't resist taking a picture of the ladies rolling out the doughballs to make the tacos.  Talk about volunteers.  They must have rolled and patted over 200 tacos.  Aren't volunteers great?

Our entire family attended.  It was tough keeping 3-year-old Kinsey's fingers off the baked-goods for auction as we waited in a long line to get our tacos.  An array of goodies lined two tables along the wall of the Methodist fellowship hall where the lunch was held.  Kinsey had to touch the orange ribbon tied to a stack of chocolate-chip cookies.  Just before I got my taco, we passed the desserts that were cut-up for eating.  I got lucky. I grabbed the second-to-the-last piece of homemade 3-layer Italian-cream cake.  Dee-licious!  Worth every dollar of my donation.

Senator Don Barrington and his lovely wife, Jennifer were there.  So was Rep. Ann Coody.  They praised the volunteers for all they are doing in Oklahoma.  This year, Oklahoma awarded volunteer departments five-thousand dollars each.  It seems our state's budget cuts may hurt this support in coming months.  (All the more reason to support fundraisers, huh?)  I was surprised to learn that only 39 departments have paid firemen in the entire state.  The other 389 are all volunteer.

My dad was a volunteer fireman for decades; I have a soft spot in my heart for them.  My grandson volunteers at Hulen.  He absolutely loves the idea of helping the community this way.  But ya know?  I also take tremendous pride in the ladies who support these fellas.  I thought about bidding on some of those cakes they'd made, until the bidding began and a pumpkin roll cake sold for fifty dollars.  Then a beautiful Hummingbird Cake sold for eighty-dollars.  Those desserts were on fire!  Good thing the auction was close to the fire-house, don't ya think?