Are You Listening to What God is Telling You?

John 10:27-28 (NIV)

27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand.

Sister Maurella Schlise, a Catholic nun from Fargo, South Dakota, was spending the holidays with her family in Florida, and planning a visit to a nearby maximum security prison.  Sister Rosemary and her husband conduct a weekly prayer meeting there, and they invited me along," Sister says. Usually, no more than 35 men attended, but Rosemary and Pat refused to become discouraged. If, for just a little while, prayer lifted these prisoners out of despair and regret to focus on the One Who loved them despite it all, the hours Rosemary and Pat donated were well worth it.

Visitors were never allowed to bring anything to the prison, not even food. But when Sister Maurella arrived at the Ryans' home, she found food preparation in full swing-not just for the family but for the convicts too. "Because our regular meeting falls on Christmas Eve this year, the warden decided we could bring each man a few goodies," Rosemary explained. "We're going to make some Rice Krispies bars and homemade cookies for them. Enough to fill about fifty bags."

"Fifty bags! I thought you said the turnout was pretty low," Sister pointed out.

"It usually is. But maybe on Christmas Eve, some extra men will come. We wouldn't want to run out of food. Besides, for most of the inmates, this will be their only gift." Sister Maurella was glad she had arrived several days early to help with holiday preparations. Rosemary obviously had even more to do than usual.

The following morning, Sister Maurella attended mass. She thought about the inmates, wondering if they--if anyone--could actually experience the miracle of Christmas from behind bars. What would it be like? Then, "Although God is not in the habit of speaking directly to me," she says, smiling, "I distinctly heard a voice in my spirit. It specifically said, "Bring one hundred bags to the prison."

One hundred! That seemed far too many for Rosemary's small group. Had the message been Sister's imagination? Perhaps. But she decided to step out in faith, and tell Rosemary. Rosemary and Pat were skeptical. But they too had had experiences when God seemed to nudge them just a little, and they respected Sisters' insight. "It's a lot," Rosemary finally said, "but I'd rather have too many than not enough."

The women spent the day filling one hundred white bags with goodies. The men would be pleased, each happy to have a small gift of his own. As they came through the prison gates that evening, the chaplain flagged them down. "The chapel is packed!" he exclaimed. "There must be a hundred men inside!" One hundred. Rosemary and Sister Maurella smiled at each other. The little nudge from heaven had been real.

Instead of Rosemary and Pat leading the service, the men had prepared a program of their own. An inmate with a vibrant voice sang the poignant story of the Little Drummer Boy. Another did the Ave Maria, having somehow discovered that it was Rosemary's favorite. Everyone sang hymns, and one man read the Christmas story from the Bible. The chapel was hushed, small candles providing the only light. It was truly the most moving Christmas Eve service that Sister had ever attended.

Finally the program ended, and the men eagerly lined up. Sister Maurella and Rosemary handed each a white bag...until there were ten men left, and no more candy to give away. There had not been one hundred men in the chapel. There had been one hundred and ten.

Sister stood, dismayed. How could this have happened? If God had truly spoken to her that morning, why hadn't He told her to bring one hundred and ten bags? What should they do? "God, multiply the bags," Rosemary prayed silently.

But a young convict had also seen their dilemma. "Sister," he spoke quietly, "we others..we'll share our bags with them."

Sister looked at the faces surrounding her. Men of every color and nationality, murderers, thieves... But men who now, because of His birthday, were willing to reach out to one another in forgiveness and love. Healing sometimes came in tiny steps, Sister knew. But once begun, it could grow.

The young convict opened his bag, preparing to share his treats. Just then, a prison trustee entered the chapel, carrying a sack. "Rosemary, we had some leftovers from a group that came this morning," he said. "Can you use them?"

Rosemary took the sack. Inside were sweets--divided into ten white bags. She smiled. "You see?' she told the men. "God cares, even about the littlest things."

Everyone rejoiced as the remaining men received their bags, especially Sister Maurella. She had wondered if Christmas could come in a prison, but now she knew. Where love is, God is.

Dear Lord, we thank You for You special gift You gave at Christmas. Help us to listen to what You have for us to do so that Your love can be shown through our actions. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Are You Buried Beneath the Piles of Traditions?

Matthew 1:22-23 (NIV)

22 All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 23 “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

Evangelist Luis Palau tells of a wealthy European family that decided to have their newborn baby baptized in their enormous mansion. Dozens of guests were invited to the elaborate affair, and they all arrived dressed to the nines. After depositing their elegant wraps on a bed in an upstairs room, the guests were entertained royally.

Soon the time came for the main purpose of their gathering: the infant's baptismal ceremony. But where was the baby? No one seemed to know.

The child's governess ran upstairs and returned with a desperate look on her face. Everyone searched frantically for the baby. Then someone recalled having seen him asleep on one of the beds. The baby was on a bed all right-buried beneath a pile of coats, jackets, and furs. The object of that day's celebration had been forgotten, neglected, and nearly smothered.

The baby whose birthday we celebrate at Christmas is easily hidden beneath the piles of traditions and cultural observances of the season. We need to enter every Advent season asking, "Where's the baby?"

Christ left His home in glory to be with us.

Dear Lord, we thank You for this Christmas season.  We pray that we would keep You at the center of Christmas and not get You lost in the hustle and bustle of the traditions. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. 

The Glow of Jesus

Matthew 5:16 (NIV)

In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

How did I get myself into this? Claire thought to herself as she adjusted her head cloth and shifted her position sitting on the small stool beside the improvised "manager." She knew that the teenagers at her church - her son Brian among them - were responsible for the nativity scene at the annual Christmas pageant, but she never expected they'd tap her to play Mary.

"After all," Brian had insisted, "None of the girls really feel up to playing Mary - we need someone older." So not knowing whether to be complimented or insulted, there she sat decked out in the requisite Bible-era robe and with instructions to look saintly.

Claire sighed and looked around. She knew that the nativity scene came at the end of her pageant and served as the climax of the show. After the sugar plums and snowflake dancers and all the rest of the performers had finished, the curtain would come up on the assembled manager scene as the church choir stood behind them and sang "Silent Night." The audience would join in, the curtain would drop and the pageant would be over for the year.

In her place by the box that served as the "manger", Claire had the feeling that something was missing. For despite the festive decorations, the happy anticipation in the air and of course the basic reality of what the Christmas story really meant, Claire was a bit depressed. She knew that Christmas of course celebrated the birth of Jesus, but what did it mean to her and those in the pageant and the audience? Was it just an opportunity see the children performing in cute costumes? Or for the choir director to show off her skill at the complicated numbers?

Claire sighed again. So much festivity and all because of a baby. Baby? Claire paused to remember the planned occupant of the "manger."

"Don't worry, Mom," Brian had told her as she asked. "We thought about a doll, but that would have looked pretty phony. So we improvised." He dug in his gym bag. "Here, when the curtain comes up, turn this on." "This" was a flashlight, now resting in the "manger" on the towel (representing a blanket) and on the straw and Claire was still puzzled. No baby, or even a doll. Just a flashlight. Some Christmas this would be!

So Claire sat there, with the costumed teens circled around her - with Brian playing Joseph, the three Wise Men off to one side, a donkey tethered nearby (standing on a lot of straw), and a group of shepherds on the other side. Claire bowed her head as she heard the players shuffle in their places (was that a pair of Nikes peeking out from under a shepherdly robe?) then the choir assembling behind them.

It was dark behind the curtain. The leashed lamb held by one of the shepherds let out a faint "baa!" The barnyard fragrance of donkey and straw became evident. So much preparation and so much tradition, but what did it all mean? Somehow Claire couldn't put aside the sense of sadness that amidst the soft music and depiction of the holy scene there was still something missing. If Christmas was Jesus' birthday, then where was He in all of this? So many years ago He had been born in a similar scene, an infant laid in a feed box by a peasant teenaged mother. Indeed, a child who had attracted his rough shepherds and the polished wise men, but where was His current influence. Had it really come to this - a straw filed box and a flashlight?

"Mom!" A whisper from "Joseph" nearby. "The flashlight- turn it on!"

At first confused, and then understanding, Claire reached into the box and trying to look like she was adjusting the blanket, flicked on the light just as the curtain came up and the choir began to sing.

The glow shimmered forth, partially covered by the straw and the towel, but its luminescence diffused into a faint illumination that spread out from the box and was reflected on the faces of the hunched group around it. Then Claire heard the choir's words. "Radiant beams from Thy holy face.. Redeeming grace." Claire adjusted the towel again and the light gleamed up, casting its glow. Shepherds. Wise Men. Mary, Joseph. All the characters were there and then there was the light.

Just like the light of Christ that still glowed and shone out in the dimness of an unreceiving and unbelieving world.

"Sleep in heavenly peace." sang the choir and all the teens fell to their knees on cue around the light as the curtain slowly descended.

And then Claire knew. It was a simple message. Christmas was Christ and how the Light of the world had been born into a world of darkness and how His radiance was reflected in the faces and lives of those who encountered Him. In the midst of a dark world that Light meant hope and peace and most of all God's love. That was Christmas.

Dear Lord, thanks for being the light of Christmas. As we approach Christmas day when we celebrate Your birth help us each shine with Your love to this dark world will see You though us. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

The Gift of Magic

Psalm 37:3-5 (NIV)

3 Trust in the Lord and do good;

    dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.

4 Take delight in the Lord,

    and he will give you the desires of your heart.

5 Commit your way to the Lord;

    trust in him and he will do this:

Listen to the account as a magician shares how a Christmas show change his life and how it affected his Christmas’s to come.

One Christmas, years ago, I got a call to do a magic show on Christmas Eve at a family home in Halihi. A little girl there was ill with cancer.

December is my busiest month and I was pretty tired from working overtime, but the Uncle who called me was persistent and phoned several days running, so I gave them a very reasonable quote and tried to figure out how to do a portable version of my stage show.

When I got there, no one was ready ("Filipino time" they told me), there were 9 children and adults coming. The more I thought about it, the more I tried to figure a way to do as much of my show in this small downstairs room as I could. Why not, it was Christmas Eve.

My screens were brought in and set up. It was very tight.

The people came in with a beautiful little 9 year old girl, not even in a real wheelchair, just a regular wooden chair with caster wheels attached. Bald from Chemotherapy and with an oxygen tube to help her breath.

Her eyes were very pretty, wide and attentive. She seemed as excited as the other children though less active. I understood this would be perhaps her last Christmas on earth with her family.

I did my regular show with energy and a smile on my face though inside my heart was sinking. I was just wishing there was something more I could do. I felt like I was on autopilot, part of me standing back and watching. I did all the jokes and bits of business that make people laugh that I'd learned over my lifetime.

These people needed joy. They responded heartily and with tremendous warmth. For a moment everyday reality was less important, (that is the gift of the entertainer I guess.) For once, I was not just "Happy to get everything to work," but very humbled.

Afterwards as they went to food and conversation, I packed everything away to get back and close down the house for my folks who had their own physical issues to deal with. Here it was Christmas Eve and I was surrounded by mortality, yet I think God let me share what I could do and showed me sometimes it really makes a difference.

I could have used the money I suppose, but they certainly needed it more. The last gift was pressing the $100 in loose bills back into the smiling Uncles' hand and saying "That's ok, I have nieces...Merry Christmas." His face lit up and he said "Oh! An honest man!" And went to tell his incredulous relatives. Maybe to him it seemed like a minor miracle. I had to turn away and leave quickly so he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes.

Seeing how you can do something that counts, isn't that the best gift someone can get? For me, it was the best Christmas gift I can remember.

What a great challenge for each of us. Every year and especially at Christmas offer to do something for a family or Charity that can use what you do. Each of us is good at something; why not take today to share it with someone who really needs it. Be a blessing today.

Dear Lord, we thank You for the gifts and talents that You have given to us. This Christmas season open our eyes so that we may see those that can benefit from us. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

The Ghost of Christmas

John 14:2-3 (NIV)

2 My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.

Mary Mc Donald wiped the tears from her eyes as the memories flooded into her mind. She leaned back into her armchair and sighed heavily. "No one should be alone for Christmas" she spoke aloud as if protesting to someone- anyone who would listen- but she knew there was no one to hear her. No one cared enough to want to spend their Christmas day with an eighty nine year old misery like her.

Closing her eyes Mary let her mind drift back to the days when her life had been happier. When she had been so busy with little time to sit and think. Now it was all she had to do and time had little meaning to her.

A smile flickered on her face as she remembered her Husband Mark and the beautiful Christmas gifts he used to bring her every Christmas morning. They always had made Christmas 'special' because they were married on 'Boxing Day' so celebrated their anniversary as well. "A Double helping of happiness," as Mark would say, giving her a kiss.

Mary's thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking on her front door and she jumped, startled by the unexpected sound. She shivered as she struggled to her feet slowly and made her way to the door, wondering who could be calling on Christmas day.

When Mary opened the door she stepped back in surprised to see her Brother and sister-in-law standing there. "Surprise" they said smiling. "Martha, Paul but how." she exclaimed. Martha interrupted her by giving her a hug. "We are here Mary and that's all that matters isn't it. Now are you going to let us in or are we going to stand here all day?" Martha smiled as Mary kissed her and Paul put his arm around his sister. Overwhelmed with emotion Mary could only let her brother take her arm and walked into the house together.

They had not seen each other for years and there was so much news to 'catch up' on, but they had barely sat down when her Brother Peter walked in the back door. "Merry Christmas Sis' he said grinning from ear to ear. "Hi Paul, Martha, long time no see. He said nodding his head to them. Mary just burst into tears of joy." Ohh peter this is wonderful," she said as he kissed her on the forehead as he had always done since they were children.

"To think I was feeling so lonely just a few minutes ago, thinking I was going to have yet another Christmas all by myself." She had not felt so happy for a long time and soon they were all chatting away like excited young children.

The time passed quickly and too soon Peter said he must go. Mary knew her lovely Christmas day would soon be at its end and she would be alone again. "Do you have to leave Pete? You could stay the night if you like." Peter could see the sadness on Mary's face, but knew he had to leave. " I really do have to go Mary, but Paul and Martha will stay for a while. Won't you Paul? He said turning to his Brother as he spoke.

Paul and Martha nodded and Peter kissed his sister goodbye and left hurriedly. Telling Mary he would see her again very soon. It wasn't until a little later when Martha told Mary they saw Peter nearly every day that Mary thought it was strange, after all she had not seen Peter for at least two years herself and she knew he lived even further away from Paul and Martha.

Seeing the puzzled look on Mary's face Martha quickly told her she would understand soon. Mary was even more puzzled than before and started asking questions. She remembered that Peter, Paul and Martha had all died years ago! She gasped and fell back into her chair. What was she doing? Had she gone completely mad? Were they all in her imagination? She began to cry." Mary please don't cry," Martha's voice broke through Mary's sobs. " Look Mary someone has come to see you, now you will understand." Mary looked up and wiped the tears from her eyes with trembling hands.

"Mark, Ohh Mark is that really you"? She couldn't believe her eyes. Her Husband Mark was standing beside Paul smiling. His arms outstretched toward her. Mary she ran into his arms. Ohh yes, she knew the answer now. Mark had passed away more than ten years ago. She knew she would never spend another lonely Christmas.

Mary's body was found sitting in her armchair the next day- Boxing day- There was a contented smile on her face. The words on the card in her hand read,

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY DARLING! All my love Mark!

What a glorious day that will be when we get to be with those again that have gone ahead of us. This Christmas let’s take the time to remember those that God has put in our life.

Dear Lord, we thank You for the Christmas season. Because of it we can meet You and our loved ones in heaven someday. Help us share Your great gift with those around us so they may become Your children also. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

What I Learned From a Fruitcake.

Zechariah 9:9 (NIV)

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!

    Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!

See, your king comes to you,

    righteous and victorious,

lowly and riding on a donkey,

    on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

As we get ready for Christmas in my household by making Christmas goodies for family and friends I think back to the many goodies my dad would make each year.  To this day I use many of those recipes.  As I was thinking about all the goodies one of them that came to mind was the fruitcake, I thought about how many people seem to roll their eyes at or complain about the fruitcake. As you read on maybe your idea of the fruitcake will change for the better like it did for me.

Attached to a fruitcake was the following note.

'The humble fruitcake is a dessert that, like the followers of our savior Jesus Christ, is often despised despite its sweet nature. It is unfortunate, however, that so many feel this way, because in reality, a fruitcake is very similar to any of the human beings on God's green earth.

The brown cake is our flesh, which was originally wrought by god's hands from the dust. Though it is sometimes bitter, it is moist and thick, symbolizing the labor and blood of human existence.

The nuts are little crunchy bits of sin that exist in all of us, since, like the fruitcake, we are made with sin inside of us, and only a higher power can take it out of us - provided we (or the fruitcake) let Him.

The bright fruits represent the joys of life that God gives us to uplift us, like flowers, babies, and puppies. The red cherries are especially important, because they represent the blood Jesus Christ shed to free us from sin.

The entire fruitcake is baked until it has a firm crust, similar to our skin, but possibly more similar to the shield that many place between themselves and God. As we do with the fruitcake, God needs to cut off a slice of us before the meaty insides and beautiful, tasty fruits are exposed to Him. Some people are baked too long, and as a result are impervious to God's love, so their tough skin and blinded minds eventually lead them to eternal suffering in hell, just as many an overdone fruitcakes are subjected to the trash can, garbage disposal or family dog.

So, next time you see or receive a fruitcake, don't cast it aside with scorn - where would we be if God had done that to us? Instead, enjoy the fruitcake, share it with your friends and family, and remember what it represents - not only us, but the Lord Jesus Christ, whose birth is not only the sole, undisputed reason for Christmas, but also the reason that we have fruitcakes today.'

As I finished reading the note a tear trickled down my cheek. We find ourselves rushing through Christmas like it is a chore; we have forgotten the real meaning behind it all. We need to let the Christmas joy began to bloom in our hearts.  Let us never look at a fruitcake or Christmas is the same way again

Dear Lord, we pray that we would not get to busy that it takes away from the true meaning of Christmas. Help us remember all that You did for us that first Christmas day. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Lessons Learned from Noah

Genesis 6:8 (NIV)

But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.

One of my favorite Bible stories is about Noah. As we get closer to Christmas in all the busyness here are some great lessons we can learn from the story of Noah.

1. Plan Ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark.

2. Stay fit. When you're 600 years old, someone might ask you to do something REALLY big.

3. Don't listen to critics--do what has to be done.

4. Build on high ground.

5. For safety's sake, travel in pairs.

6. Two heads are better than one.

7. Speed isn't always an advantage.

8. The cheetahs were on board, but so were the snails.

9. If you can't fight or flee--float!

10. Don't forget that we're all in the same boat.

11. Remember that the ark was built by amateurs and the Titanic was built by professionals.

12. Remember that the woodpeckers inside are often a bigger threat than the storm on the outside.

13. Don't miss the boat.

14. No matter how bleak it looks, if God is with you, there's always a rainbow on the other side.

Dear Lord, we thank You for Your Word and the lessons we can learn from the people found on the pages of our Bible. Help us completely trust You in everything. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.