A Christmas Letter From Jesus

James 1:17 (NIV)

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

Dear children,

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking my name out of the season.  Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate my birthday on what was actually a time of a pagan festival.  No worries, I do appreciate the sentiment though and being remembered anytime.

I don’t really care what you call the day.  If you want to celebrate My birth just GET ALONG and LOVE ONE ANOTHER.  Now, having said that, let Me go on.

If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of the Santas and snowmen and put up a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn.  If all my followers did that there wouldn't be any need for a Town Square scene, because there would be hundreds of them all around town!

Please, stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a “holiday tree” instead of a Christmas tree.  It was I who made all trees.  You can remember Me anytime you see any tree and at any time of the year.  Decorate a grape-vine and leave it up all year if you wish and remember I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my “wish list”.  Choose something from it.

1.  Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home.  They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year.  I know, they tell Me all the time.

2.  Visit someone in a nursing home.  You don’t have to know them personally.  They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3.  Instead of standing by the water-cooler with your colleagues complaining about your boss and how stingy he was with the Christmas bonuses this year, why don’t you go into his office with a gift card and tell him that you’ll be praying for him and his family this year.  Then follow-up.  It will be nice hearing from you again.

4.  Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts they really don’t need, spend time with them instead.  Tell them a story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here.  Hold them in your arms and remind them how much I love them!

5.  Pick someone who has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6.  Instead of griping about a retailer in town saying “Happy Holidays”, be patient with the people who work there.  Give them a warm smile and a kind word and even if they aren't allowed to wish you a “Merry Christmas” that doesn't keep you from wishing them one.  Think about those who have to work over the holidays and bring them a plate of cookies to tell them you appreciate them for their hard work.  Take it one step further…when you go out to eat after church on Sundays, rather than look down your nose at all the people who “missed church” because they had to work, when that waitress takes your order, pray for her and thank her for her service to you and then leave her a good tip…not the chintzy ones you have been leaving.  My children should always be generous!

7.  There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only have no “Christmas Tree”, they have no presents to give or receive.  If you want to make a difference this Christmas, support a local charity that provides clothes, food, and shelter to those who are homeless or who help families in crisis.  Don’t just send them a check at Christmas either, support them year round.  If you can’t afford to support them with a monetary donation, give them your time.  Volunteering your time is just as helpful!

8.  Support a missionary, especially one who takes My Love and Good News to those who have never heard My Name.

9.  Finally, if you believe that I am the real “reason for the season”, how about spending more time with Me rather than spending time complaining about how commercial Christmas has become?  Live every day like you believe that I am THE WAY, THE TRUTH and THE LIFE, and remember I am with you always!

All My Love,

Jesus

Dear Jesus, thank You giving each of us a special gift on Christmas. Help us find ways to share that with the world around us. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

A Special letter to Santa

Philippians 2:3 (NIV)

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.

She had been waiting for this moment for weeks now. All the other kids in her class had already told Santa what they wanted for Christmas. Her mom had been urging her to make her list to give to Santa, but she just couldn't make up her mind.

"Why is it so difficult for you to decide?" Mom asked her. "I have so many things to do and I can't keep asking you for your list."

"I know what I want but I don't know how to write it," she replied.

"Your brother made his list up weeks ago. Of course he wants the entire toy store, but at least he has a list."

"He's just a child mother!" She replied.

"Oh, and you're so mature at the age of nine?"

"I'll be a teenager soon!" She replied.

Although she had four years to get ready for it, that was something mom didn't want to think about these days. Time was always a precious thing to her. Even more so now that she lost her husband last year in a work related accident. Bills have been piling up and work difficult to find. On top of that, her own mother was seriously ill requiring her to visit her daily.

The holidays are normally quite hectic, but this one was particularly difficult.

Finally, one day while mom was visiting grandma, the young girl sat down to make her list.

She neatly folded the paper and placed inside the special green and red envelope, sealed it and left it on the table for Santa.

Just before bed time that day she told her mom that she did indeed make her Christmas wish list.

Her and her brother would place their lists together on the kitchen table and "magically" the list would disappear by morning reaching Santa through what they called "North Pole air mail."

Just before heading to bed herself, mom sat down to read her daughter's list.

Quietly and carefully opening it, she unfolded the paper.

It was blank.

"This has never happened before," she thought.

But how could she even ask her daughter about it. This was a letter to Santa and parents never see those things.

Lying in bed that night mom came up with the answer. They were planning on attending the church Christmas party the next night. Every year Santa would make a visit and give each child in attendance a small gift. Since Mom knew Santa personally, so she would ask him to make a point to speak to her daughter about the blank letter.

The party was festive and filled with holiday goodies. Music and laughter filled the small church basement as Santa made his entrance.

Mom stood by her children waiting eagerly for him to speak to her daughter.

"Well, Jessica. How are you? I got your list this year but, I'm a bit confused. It was blank. I even checked it twice. Don't you want any presents this year?" Santa asked.

Jessica motioned for Santa to come closer.

"What I want this year you can't bring," she said.

"Oh, but Santa has lots of things for good little girls and boys," the old gentleman assured her.

"I don't want things," she said. "What I want only God can give me."

It suddenly became very quiet in the room.

"But you can help me, Santa," Jessica said.

"Anything, Jessica," Santa said in his real voice and quite out of character.

"Will you pray with me?" She asked.

"Of course, what do you need?"

"All I want this year is for my Mom to be happy and my grandma well," Jessica said.

There wasn't a dry eye in the room.

Santa stood tall, clasped the hands of the little girl and began to pray.

"Oh, Heavenly Father, God of all that is good, please hear my prayer. Jessica has requested a very special gift this year. One that only You can provide. I am just the provider of things of this world. Things that have no real value. But you Oh, God, are the Provider of life and the Giver of everlasting love. This young child, with wisdom far beyond her years, asks nothing for herself, but for her mom to be happy and her grandmother well. Please hear the prayer of this child and bless her for her generous spirit all the days of her life."

And the people gathered there said "Amen!"

"Jessica," her mom said.

"Look, it happened already! I've never been happier in my life."

And so it will be for you, too, my friends. If you have made your list for Santa already, I urge you to "check it twice." For things bring only temporary happiness and God's Love eternal joy.

Dear Lord, as we approach Christmas help us remember the things that are truly important. Open our eyes today. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. 

Christmas Through the Eyes of a Child.

Isaiah 9:6 (NIV)

For to us a child is born,

    to us a son is given,

    and the government will be on his shoulders.

And he will be called

    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

I read an account from a missionary that was recounting a Christmas past.

Children in Zimbabwe are no different from their counterparts around the world when it comes to Christmas. They are full of anticipation and hope.

As children from the city, we spent most of our Christmas holidays in our ancestral village, having traveled a long distance to be with extended family and to partake of all the good food prepared for us. Christmas was also a time to wear new clothes to church.

I remember as a child meeting a young village boy on Christmas morning while I walked home from church with my aunt and sister. He lived with his mother, grandmother, and two younger siblings and attended the village school. He was barefoot but running really fast, and as he approached us, he slowed down, and we exchanged Christmas greetings. He stopped, and with a great deal of excitement, he shared his Christmas story with us. They had run out of salt on Christmas Day! So he had been sent to borrow some salt from a neighbor for his grandmother. It is common in Zimbabwe for families to send their children to a neighbor for a cup of sugar, corn meal, or salt.

We girls from the city marveled at the simple joys of Christmas that brought forth such excitement in him. His daily chores on Christmas Eve were no different from any other day. He let out the cows from the cattle pen, fetched drinking water from the communal well and gathered firewood before joining other children for a bath in the river. Come evening, they went around the village sharing the joy of Christmas through song. On Christmas Day, he helped his mother and grandmother prepare an elaborate Christmas dinner. He always wished for relatives from the city who would bring all sorts of goodies for him and his family to enjoy.

On the other hand, Christmas in the village for my sister and me was a mere adventure that was quickly forgotten once we were back in the hustle and bustle of the big city. This young village boy, who had very little, looked content, happy, and bubbling with energy and joy. He was to us the real face and spirit of Christmas.

One congregation that I know of has started an initiative that aims to replace consumption with compassion by urging its members to consider donating one quarter of their Christmas budget towards the building of a village well.

Jesus reminded us of our responsibilities towards each other when He said:

Matthew 5:13a - You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can it’s saltiness be restored? 

Dear Lord, bless all the children around the world now and at Christmastime. May Christ's birth, a gift of life to mankind, remind us of Your unconditional love and grace. In Jesus' name, Amen.

2014 Birthday Candles.

John 12:46 (NIV)

I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.

One of the highlights of our Christmas Eve service is always the candle lighting at the end.   The lighting of the candles symbolizes Jesus as the light of the world and our task to represent Him as lights in the world. Then we sing "Silent Night".

One of the things to get ready for the service is to get enough candles for the 175 – 200 people in attendance.

This thought hit me, "It's Christ's birthday!" Maybe we should get 2014 candles?

How amazing it is that after 2000 years, we still celebrate Jesus' birthday. But how easy it is to get so caught up in our Christmas traditions and busyness that we forget the fact that Christmas is Jesus' birthday. Imagine holding a big birthday party and not remembering to invite the birthday person! To consciously include Christ, what gift will we give Him? Will it be to forgive someone that we've held a grudge against? Or maybe to extend unconditional love towards someone whom we find it hard to love? Or perhaps we might even pledge obedience to Jesus, who lived and died to pay the penalty for our sins, and rose again to give us eternal life, a relationship with God that will go on forever. Let's make this a special Christmas and truly celebrate Jesus' birthday. It could even include a cake with a white candle and singing "Happy birthday, dear Jesus!"

Dear Lord, help us remember  that it’s Your birthday we are celebrating.  Help us spread the joy of Your birthday to everyone we come into contact with this Christmas season. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. 

Are We Blind, or Do We Have the Eyes of a Child?

Matthew 25:40 (NIV)

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

This is a first-person account from a mother about her family as they ate dinner on Christmas Day in a small restaurant many miles from their home. Nancy, the mother, relates: We were the only family with children in the restaurant.

I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high-chair tray. His eyes were wide with excitement and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man with a tattered rag of a coat; dirty, greasy and worn. His pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. "Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh and answer, ""Hi, hi there."

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do ya know patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo."

Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally go through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to side-step him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's pick-me-up, position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love relationship.

Erik in an act of total trust, love and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain and hard labor - gently, so gently cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back.

No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms for a moment, and then his eyes opened and set squarely on mine.

He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby."

Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone. He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift."

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me." I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not, I felt it was God asking - "Are you willing to share your son for a moment?", when He Shared His for All Eternity.

The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter The Kingdom of God, we must become as little children."

Dear Lord, help our eyes be open so that we can share Your love to those around us. This Christmas season help us be your hands. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Jesus the Redeemer

2 Corinthians 5:21 (NIV)

God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

Every age of man seems to have an illness, which strikes terror into people's hearts.

Undoubtedly, the long-term record-holder of humankind's most loathsome disease is held by leprosy. For thousands of years, fear of contaminating those who were healthy kept the leper isolated and ignored.

Not even beloved saints seem invulnerable to the fear leprosy engendered. Case in point is St. Francis of Assisi. One afternoon he came upon a leper as he walked along a narrow mountain path. Although ready to face popes and powers, Francis was terrified of coming into close contact with this ill man. Instinctively, his heart shrank back, and his body recoiled at the prospect of touching this individual, who had been horribly disfigured by the disease.

Ashamed of himself, Francis rallied. He turned, ran back, and threw his arms over the fellow's shoulders. He kissed him upon the cheek and then started to continue his journey. Francis had gone only a few steps, before he looked back for a final glance at this fellow, who had changed his heart.

Ever after Francis was convinced that leper was the Lord Jesus. That's because when he looked back, there was nobody there and the road was empty.

The loving action of Francis was a beautiful example of Christian living and giving. Still, what Francis did is little, when it is compared to the actions of our Savior. St. Francis embraced the leper and moved on, while Jesus became one of us and lived His entire life like us.

The step He made in leaving heaven's high throne to be born in Bethlehem is a descent we cannot imagine, replacing the perfection of paradise with a world soured by sin and sadness. Jesus' birth gives us an indication of the amount and quality of His love and commitment.

Look where you wish, no other religion of the world speaks of such an act from any of its deities.

No other faith can tell its followers: "Look into the manger and see this thing which has come to pass, which the Lord has done to save you".

Christianity -- and Christianity alone -- says, "We have a Redeemer who not only felt sorry for sin-sick souls, He actually took that sickness into Himself and carried it until it was gone and He could say, 'It is finished.'"

Dear Jesus, You entered this world to change our sin-diseased destiny. Thank You for the substitution You gave us for our sin. Help us be faithful in showing Your love this Christmas season. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.

Preparation

Proverbs 24:27 (ESV)

Prepare your work outside;

    get everything ready for yourself in the field,

    and after that build your house.

At church yesterday our Music minister brought us a great message about preparation.  It reminded me of the story of Maury Willis. He never gave up and kept preparing for the goal in front of him. His story goes like this. 

If there was ever an improbable prospect for major league baseball stardom, that longshot was Maury Wills. When he first tried out for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1950, he stood five feet eight inches tall and weighed 150 pounds-too small to play most positions. He was a terrific sprinter, a promising pitcher, and a good fielder, but he couldn't hit worth a darn. The Dodgers signed him but sent him down to the minor leagues for development. Maury told his friends, "In two years, 1'm going to be in Brooklyn playing with Jackie Robinson."

Despite that confidence, Maury languished in the minors for eight and a half frustrating years. How he finally got out-to reach not just the major leagues but individual greatness-is a story of patience, preparation, and practice, practice, practice.

He started out in Class D, the lowest rung on the baseball lad­der, riding a bus from game to game, enduring racial harassment M segregated towns, and barely supporting his growing family cm his paltry $150-a-month minor league salary. He knew he had some­thing to offer a big league club if he could just round out his skills.

Every day, Maury practiced hitting for hours. Yet after years of grueling practice and drills, he was still far short of making a major league roster. Instead of giving up, he changed his game. During practice one day, the team manager, Bobby Bragan, watched as Maury took a couple of swings at the plate from the left side. Bobby knew Maury was afraid of getting hit in the head with a curve ball, and Bobby knew if a player couldn't hit a curve ball, he would never make the majors. Bobby suggested Maury try "switch-hitting"-learning to hit left-handed as well as right­handed so he would feel safer batting against right-handed pitch­ers from the opposite side of home plate.

"You're in a seven-and-a-half-year slump as a right-handed batter," Bobby told him. "You've got nothing to lose. Come out early tomorrow and I'll throw to you." The next morning, hours before the other players arrived, Bobby threw to Maury and saw new promise. After four days, Maury was eager to try switch-hitting, but Bobby suggested he wait until the team went on a road trip so Maury wouldn't embarrass himself in front of the home fans. Two weeks later, that opportunity finally came.

Maury got two hits. "I began to feel like a baseball player again," said Maury. "Those two hits restored my hope and vision of going to Brooklyn." By the end of the season, Maury had polished his skills at shortstop and showed promise as a switch-hitter. Even with his improved skills, the Brooklyn Dodgers still did not offer to move him up.

In his eighth year in the minors, Maury continued to practice with Bobby. In the first twenty-five games he stole twenty-five bases and hit .313. Meanwhile, the Dodgers' shortstop broke his toe and the general manager was looking nationwide for a replace­ment. Bobby Bragan called the home office. "You're looking around the country for a shortstop and you've got one right here," he said. "Maury Wills?" Was their response. "He can't play. He's been around forever."

"Yeah," Bobby said. "But he's a different player now."

The Dodgers ignored Bobby's advice and continued the search. A week later, out of desperation, the home office called Maury, and he flew to join the team in Milwaukee. In the next couple of games, Maury came to a painful realization-playing in the major leagues was much different from playing in the minors. Although Maury was a fine shortstop, his hitting still wasn't major league caliber. The managers let him bat a couple of times each game then took him out around the seventh inning and put in a pinch hitter. "The handwriting was on the wall and I knew if 1 didn't learn to hit better, I was going back to the minors," Maury remembered.

But now that Maury had finally tasted his dream, he wasn't about to go back to the minors.

Maury went to the first base coach, Pete Reiser, and asked for help. Pete agreed to meet Maury for batting practice two hours before the team's regular practice session each day. Maury practiced hitting day after day, in every kind of weather, until his hands were blistered and bleeding. Yet for all his efforts, his bat­ting still wasn't strong enough. He continued to be taken out in the seventh inning. Discouraged, Maury finally considered quit­ting baseball.

Pete wouldn't let Maury quit. Pete realized that a crucial piece of Maury's preparation had been missing. All this time, Maury had been working on his hands, arms, posture, and swing through. Pete wondered if perhaps the biggest obstacle was Maury's confidence. So Pete changed the training. Each session, Pete and Maury spent thirty minutes hitting the ball and ninety minutes working on Maury's mental preparation. Sitting in the outfield, Pete would focus on Maury's thinking and attitude. Pete assured Maury that he had what it took and that if he persisted in his training, the work would eventually pay off.

"It was tough to continue to walk up to that plate having no hits in ten times at bat," Maury said. "However, I learned that con­fidence comes only after a measure of success, and success comes after a whole lot of practice and preparation."

In a game two weeks later, Maury got a hit his first time at bat. And his second time at bat. In the now-dreaded seventh inning, Maury looked over his shoulder, waiting for the manager, Walter Alston, to call him back to the dugout. Instead, Alston nodded for Maury to continue. Maury responded with another hit. After eight and a half frustrating years, Maury finally found his "groove." The next day Maury got two hits, and four hits the day after that. His batting average soared.

In his first full season in the majors, Maury finally established himself as a major league shortstop and hitter, but he didn't stop there. He had yet to unleash his most natural talent-his God given speed. Studying the motions of opposing pitchers, timing the throws of opposing catchers, practicing powerful takeoffs and deceptive slides, Maury started stealing bases like no one in the history of the game except for the great Hall of Famer Ty Cobb.

By his second season with the Dodgers, Maury led the league in base stealing. Base stealing had become Maury's own special weapon, distracting pitchers, causing wild throws by catchers, and drawing thousands of extra fans to the stadium to watch his magic. Most important, Maury was helping the Dodgers win games. Even then, Maury wanted to accomplish more. He wouldn't be satisfied. He set his sights on Ty Cobb's record for stolen bases. In 1915, Cobb had stolen 96 bases in 156 games. Even though the regular baseball season in 1962 included 162 games, Maury's goal was to beat the record in 156 games, as Cobb had done. Maury began running like a man possessed. He slid into bases so many times he peeled the skin off his legs from hip to ankle. Bloody, bruised, bandaged, ignoring the pain, he never slowed down.

Game number 155 was in St. Louis against the Cardinals. Maury needed one steal to tie the record, two to break it. With every eye in the stadium on him, and the eyes of the nation watching on television, Maury got two hits and two steals. He broke a major league record that had stood for forty-seven years. At the end of the season, Maury was named the Most Valuable Player in the National League, alongside Hall of Fame giants like Willie Mays, Don Drysdale, and Sandy Koufax.

The player who had once seemed stuck forever in the minor leagues, destined to end his career in mediocrity, had transformed himself into a bona fide star. All because, year after year, rejection after rejection, Maury Wills persisted, preparing himself. And when his moment came, when he had his chance to shine, he was ready.

Dear Lord, help us be prepared for what You have before us. When things are tough help us not give up but keep pressing toward the prize that waits for each of us. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.