The Christmas story from Timberdoodle….told by precious children. This reminds me of the Bible verse that tells us to become like little children in order to see the kingdom of heaven. Jesus said, Let the Children come unto me for such is the kingdom of heaven. Despite what our culture believes , children are a gift from God…a blessing from him. Merry Christmas!
When they had heard the king, they set out;
and there, ahead of them went the star that they had seen at its rising in the east, until it stopped over the place where the child was.
When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. Matthew 2:9-10
Lord, may we be like the Wise Men who were guided to you by a star. Give us the wisdom to seek you, light to guide us to you, courage to search until we find you, graciousness to worship you and generosity to lay our gifts before you, who is our King and our God for ever and ever. Amen.
This song written by Don Francisco describes the moments and days after the death of Christ..from Peter’s perspective.
(Be sure to turn off the website music before beginning this video. )
Last Spring on a Sunday afternoon we took one of our “nowhere” drives thru the country. My husband was quietly driving along some back roads. I was occupied in the front passenger seat watching out the window as the scenery went by.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my husband was straining to lookout my window. This startled me, since his eyes should be on the road in front of him. I asked him what he was looking at out the windows, and he quietly replied, “Nothing. ” He could have said he was looking for pine tree crosses for Easter. His eyes went back to the road in front of him.
After a few minutes, I looked over at my husband and noticed a tear running down his cheek. I asked him what was wrong. This time he told me, “I was just thinking about Pop and a story he had once told me.” Of course, because it had to do with his Pop I wanted to know the story, so I asked him to share Pop’s story with me.
He said, “When I was about 8 years old, Pop and I were out fishing and that’s when he told me that the pine trees know when it is Easter.”
I had no idea what he meant by that, so I pressed him for more information.
My boys recently suggested that since it was Valentines Day on Tuesday, perhaps they did not have to do their Math. I explained to them that yes indeed they should complete their regular subjects even on Valentines Day; Dad has to go to work, and Mom is going to still cook, clean and teach just as any other day.
I announced to them that we would be doing something special though. We are planning to bake delicious Valentine cupcakes and make cards with a gospel verse on them to pass out to a few of our neighbors.
The Bible is full of wonderful verses about love and Valentines day is about expressing love to others. When I consider what love is…true love…..I remember God, who loved us so much that he gave his only son to die on the cross so that we could be forgiven and live with him forever. I recall Psalm 139 as well. It is comforting to know that our Lord has wonderful thoughts towards us and has each hair on our head numbered. He pays much attention to our lives while we are on this earth even through trials and tribulations. Sometimes our faith is weak and we do not feel His love and care, but He can be trusted with our lives and we can take comfort in knowing that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to His purpose- Romans 8:28. The verse I will share in our Valentines card, most folks are familiar with: For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him-John 3:16&17. God’s love is more that we can ever comprehend. His love is greater than our love and we love him in our own puny way…because He first loved us I John 4:19. Happy Valentines Day! ~Anne
It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas—oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it- overspending… the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat.
Too often, I am guilty of taking the blessing of being an American for granted. I had no control over my birth place. The Creator granted me this blessing.
What a different world we would face if we were born in Somalia…or India…or Kenya. For all the problems we face…for all the issues raised on this daily broadcast…for all our political differences…living here is a blessing. The personal liberty and the limited government our forefathers developed and passed down to us through 100 generations of brave men and women has made this the best place on earth to live and to raise a family.
It has been passed on to our generation to defend this heritage of liberty and to preserve it for future generations. This shining light of freedom called America is not just for those born here…but a beacon for the entire world.
Pause now and say, “Thank you, Heavenly Father”.
I received the nicest Christmas gift in the mail from a dear sister in the Lord whom I’ve never actually met. We’ve been pen-friends for quite some time now and over the years she has sent me the most thoughtful packages that were most always so artful and home-spun. Her homemade cards, and folksy gifts make me feel as though I’ve entered into her world for a while. I’m allowed to leave my city life, make a cup of tea, and escape for a short time as I pour over her homey letters and thoughtful gifts.
I admire this so much and hope to one day make some of my gifts…or at least be more thoughtful about them. She inspires me to jump off the shopping conveyor belt and leave the rat race of consumerism a bit. Although I don’t think there is anything wrong with buying gifts, the idea of making them seems to be more thought-out and down-to-earth. Even though we’ve never met she seems to know my heart longs for a bit of country life.
One year she made me a lovely country apron (that I wear nearly everyday) . She told me that as she makes the aprons she prays for that person as she sews. Is there any better gift than one sent with prayers? I’d like to share with you some of nice things she put in the “Bit of Country” box she sent me.