"What Christmas is all about"

via Weird Dave

The mystery of the Incarnation

Donald Sensing writes at Sense of Events,

we are bearers of resurrection. We do not need to be afraid. Because to sing to God amidst all of this is to defiantly proclaim ... that death is simply not the final word. To defiantly say that a light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot, will not, shall not overcome it

...The mystery of the Incarnation is conjoined by the shock of crucifixion. Both are resolved by Resurrection. "God With Us" did not start in Bethlehem two thousand years ago, nor was it ended at Calvary. God With Us happens today among those who follow the One who had “no crib for a bed,” the One who died on a cross and then ascended to the right hand of God.

To celebrate Christmas, therefore, is not simply to sing carols in December in a church garlanded in greens. It is to become holy in this life each day of the year, to emerge victorious over sin, evil and death, to do the work of Christ in the world, to live knowing that Jesus is God with Us, and so we can, and must, be with God.

...Why is there Christmas? Because there is a place for every person at God’s table, but not everyone has come. Because God cannot stand the separation between himself and his children.

This day of celebration should also evoke in us an equally unbearable sorrow that we are not doing all we are able to do to close the separation. The best way to celebrate Christmas is to carry out the commandments of Christ all the year long.

Read more here.

Christmas Revisited

Guest post by Suzann Darnall

Merry Christmas!

I shared this basic message before, but I have made a few changes and updates. 'Cause. Let’s face it, life is an ever changing sequence of events . . . even when dealing with traditions.

Y’all know there is never a guarantee that my posting will be politics-free and, since this is a rewrite, I will warn you there is a bit in the end! However, I am mostly sharing tidbits of the holidays in my home. It is a time of year I thoroughly enjoy. I especially love the opportunities to share my joy and treasures with others!

It takes days (sometimes weeks) at our house to get holiday decorations all out and up. Even then there are often tweakings, additions, and rearranging right up until Christmas Day! I am Santa-san, Mrs. Claus, and head elf all rolled into one! I adore Christmas-ing!!! I like creating gifts, wrapping presents, decorating, baking, cooking, and listening to Christmas carols! Love it all!!!

I am a collector and my Christmas decor shows it in overdrive! And, yet, I have actually given things away over the years, to our daughters, to lessen the accumulation here. I am certain that in several more years I will be passing along more of my Christmas decorations as grandchildren grow up, move out, get married, start families, and want a bit of our traditions as they begin their own. And, then, I am equally certain I will buy a few more goodies to fill in the spaces.

First and foremost I collect Christmas bears. I am not a huge teddy bear fan, but I love white bears and polar bears. Plus, my daughters started buying me Christmas bears when they were little. My collection really expanded when my younger brother sent his Christmas bear collection to me. I now have over three dozen Christmas bears! They range in size from mere inches tall to one that is nearly 3' long. This year we added an adorable little polar bear from Cabela’s.

My Christmas stocking collection is quite large. There are nearly 3 dozen of them at present. The largest is over 2' long and the smallest is about 2" long. They have been collected over my lifetime. One of the smallest hangs on my tree. I stitched it as a small child. I also have numerous other stockings from my childhood, including the primary stocking that Santa still fills each year! There are numerous stockings I have made for family. One, that I made for my husband on our first Christmas, is out of felt, yarn, ribbon, sequins, and beads. I also decorated stockings for both our daughters and made stockings for all six of our grandkids. Some of those have now come back here. And, among my treasures are several made by my daughters for my husband and me!

Then, there is my collection of windup toys!!! Sheer fun! I love them. Have dozens and dozens. Literally! There are a little more than 60 at present.There are sneakers that walk, birds that hop, a frog that swims, and a computer that toddles . . . plus everything in between. I even have four sumo wrestlers that come with their own dohyō. Most of the windups are in a group we call Santa’s Toyland, but a few are scattered about with other collections or holiday-scapes.

While it is not actually a collection, I do have a few Christmas trains. Which makes my grandson very happy! At one time we even had one that attached to the Christmas tree and ran around the branches. Unfortunately, it did not work for long. But, my husband got me a dinosaur train to ease my loss. ~~~hahaha~~~ So, around here, we do not just "ho, ho, ho", we "whoo whoo whoo" come December!

Our own little reindeer herd, with a couple of Chocolate Moose thrown in, is a favorite part of our decor! The majority of the reindeer are a group that I have put together to represent my husband (PawPaw) and our grandchildren. PawPaw Reindeer is sitting in a rocking chair and wearing overalls. He has a tiny reindeer (Vivien) sitting on his lap. The other grandchildren reindeer (Logan, Lorelle, Tyler, Mckayla, Tabitha, and Reese) are sitting nearby. They range in sizes from big to little, just like the kids!

Our Christmas tree is covered from top to bottom, inside-n-out, on just about every branch with lights, ornaments, bead roping, and tinsel! My desire each year is to have it give the impression of the tree in Cary Grant's movie classic, "The Bishop's Wife"! I love that movie and adore the scene where he magically decorates the perfect Christmas tree! Takes us a little longer to work our elfin magic.

I have my little own version of a snow village. Not all matched, but all quite dear to me. Newly added is a lighted ceramic gingerbread house. It goes nicely with my lighted ceramic gingerbread village with a train. Sharing the space are several other buildings, animals, miscellaneous, and an entire collection of snowmen. Two other new items joined the village this year: a porcelain Santa in a sleigh with a reindeer pulling him and a small pastry chef mouse.

Then, there is the sideboard covered with the majority of my Santa collection. It also shares space with some of the reindeer and a few of the Christmas trees. The oldest items in this display are a pair of ceramic Christmas trees made over 50 years ago by my mother. The oldest item in this group made by me is patchwork Santa boot made nearly 40 years ago.

And, last but not least, our tribute to the reason for the season. Our celebration of the birth of our Saviour, Jesus Christ! We have several nativities and a whole heavenly host of angels. Most are arranged on a set of shelves that also hold my collection of family bibles. We do have the largest one sitting on its own. Some are hand-made or homemade. Others are from around the world. There are single angels and entire manger scenes including the stable. They are made of pewter, wood, plastic, and a variety of materials. Of course, it is nothing to compare with my mother’s collection of nativities which now numbers well of 100! But, hers are definitely the reason most in our family have an affinity for having more than one in our home during the holiday!

For me, Christmas is about so many things. It is of course, first and foremost, about Jesus Christ. His birth, His life, His earthly mission, His eternal plan. It is also about Santa Claus. For me he is the symbol of the spirit of Christmas that I hope to achieve during the holidays. The spirit of giving. The celebrations of family, friends, traditions, and memories. ‘Cause in my world family and traditions are so very important. I think family is the cornerstone of civilization. I think traditions are one of the ways we hold family together down through the generations. And, I think we need to fight to hold on to our families, traditions, and right to worship as we please!

Uh Oh! Here it comes, the political message that I warned y’all was waiting in my holiday ramblings. But, I feel it is crucial so I will share. Not to diminish the joy, but to stress the importance. There is a very real war on Christianity, Christmas, and freedom of religion. Some other religions and holidays are being targeted, as well. There is also a constant nudging by the Progressives to devalue family. To make it all about society or community, which in their reality means all about government. We need to reassert our insistence upon traditional values. Morals and ethics also seem to be targets of the Left.

So, while we celebrate Jesus, Santa, and the holidays, let us not forget the coming battles of the New Year! Let us keep our eye on the goal of forcing those we elected to honor their campaign promises to push the Conservative agenda. Don’t let them get away with being the Grinches who steal our votes and hide them in the cave of “politics as usual”. Some of the RINOs have already dropped lumps of coal in our stockings by making war on our still relatively new president. They are not Conservatives and do not share our values!

But, I will try to shelve my outrage for a couple of weeks and celebrate! Strive to fill up my heart with love, home with joy, and family with memories. Worship my Saviour in honor of His birth. Go to church on Sunday, dressed in a bit of new finery. See my dear family dressed up as well. Hear the wonderful Nativity story and the beautiful Christmas hymns. Play Santa, Mrs. Claus, and Christmas elf to my grandchildren, plus adult family members. Probably eat too much and watch waaay too much TV, particularly football. Sing Christmas carols. Wrap gifts ‘til my fingers ache . . . just so I can help unwrap gifts ‘til my fingers ache! Oh, what fun it is share so many silly and sacred traditions.

Let us all hang on to these freedoms and traditions so long as we may! America is not ONLY a nation of Christians, but there should definitely be room enough within our borders for those of us who do still worship Jesus Christ. We are told to be tolerant, so we have the right to expect that tolerance given back to us. Not just at Christmas, but all the year long! God Bless America and have a very merry Christmas!!!

Sayonara,
Suzann
http://www.suziezoo.com
http://www.woolymammoth.org

Angels we have heard on high

Pressure and hassle vs. serenity

At Maggies Farm Bird Dog has some thoughts about how we celebrate Christmas:

I understand the historical reasons that Christmas is on the winter solstice/Saturnalia in western Christianity, but I'd like it later. That's just one thing. Most of my grinchiness has to do with the feeling of pressure to pack everything in. I hate pressure and hassle, love serenity.

- Mid-winter gets dreary in New England unless you ski a lot, or go away. A later Christmastime would brighten it all up. They say Jesus was probably born in April anyway.

- We are not too big on giving presents at Christmastime at the Maggie's HQ now that the kids are older - and my extended family has banned them. How about if we all agree to quit with the gift-giving or just limit it to home-made jam, cookies, and pies or a bottle of something, and honor the season by getting together, singing carols, and with gifts to charities and churches? As a compromise, keep kids' stockings for chocolates and candy canes and things like that. Maybe some cash for the older ones.

- Last year, Mrs. BD's present to me was Torture: A trainer 3 days/wk and a 6 day/wk exercise program. Some gift! I have stuck with it, though. She likes to feel the bulging muscle and appreciates the lack of fatigue climbing mountains. A year of squats with presses? At 5 am? Lovely gift!

- Which is worse? Putting the decorations all around the house, or taking them down in a few weeks and packing them away?

- Which is worse? Dragging in and putting up a live dead pagan tree with all of the family mementos on it, or getting rid of it before it burns the house down? (I simplified some of this chore years ago by keeping all tree stuff in drawers in the parlor.)

- Outdoor Christmas lights. They all seem to commit suicide while being stored in the attic, but not before they writhe around in the dark to create annoying tangles. Yes, they are cheery though. I keep mine lit all through January because of the trouble, and just throw them in the trash after.

- Christmas Cards. OK, they are a good way to stay in touch with people we care about. But there is so little time in which to do it, and you have to find a decent photo. Plus updating one's address book is a major pain. We've missed a year or two, and I hope nobody took it personally...

read more here.

That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown

Thanks to Christopher Buckley

The Christmas miracle

Ann Voskamp thinks:

Wise men follow more than a star — they follow the God of the scars. Who heals our scars.

The miracle of Christmas is we get more than proof of God’s existence. We get the experience of God’s presence.

We get our Christmas miracle. We get God with us.

And the good things in life are not so much health but holiness, not so much the riches of this world but relationship with God, not so much our plans but His presence —

and He withholds no good thing from us because the greatest things aren’t ever things.

He doesn’t withhold Jesus from us.

And no matter where we are – we can always have as much of Jesus as we want.

We can always have as much of God as we want.

Read more here.

Warming of everything cold

Ann Voskamp writes today that

this Christmas that we celebrate, this is the Winter Passion, the white hot burn of His love.

The cross is the sign of God’s lavish, unfathomable affection for us, and we need the cross daily because of these two realities: 1) How else can I remember that He loves me? 2) How else can I remember how to die daily?

And if there is no cross in my Christmas, then my Christmas has lost Christ — and what is the manger if it not for the Messiah, the one who saves us with the scars?

This Babe who lays in a wooden manger, who came to lie on a wooden Cross, He is healing all our wounds…

This white hot love of His cross.

This warming of everything cold….

Read more here.

Not a dream

Some excerpts from several essays by David Warren:

How many people have said, “I am basically a good person,” without noticing that no one ever asked? And it is true that real monsters are a small minority, though I often think they are closer to being saved.

What we haven’t confronted, is that very emptiness, that loneliness, that hopelessness — together with the self-pity that explains it all away. For the modern man is a childless orphan, and the modern woman is a modern man, and this goes double when they are married to each other.

An example would be the sanctity of human life. Once it is grasped that it is wrong to kill people, as a way to solve your problems, and that a human is human from the moment he is conceived, opposition to abortion naturally follows. That is why it is incumbent on every faithful Catholic to oppose abortion, as he would otherwise oppose murder. This can’t be optional. It is incumbent, too, on every other one of us: on every Christian, and as it happens, on every decent human being regardless of religious affiliation. For in every other religious tradition of which I am aware, the sanctity of life is in some way affirmed. Even the Dalai Lama will tell you that abortion is evil, and against divine law.

Similarly, once some notion of the connexion between sex and babies has been grasped, it is no longer possible to dismiss moral guidance. Nothing so elemental to the condition of human life than our means of reproduction could be otherwise than shouting with moral significance; and far from being a side issue, sexuality is at the heart of all human relations.

The contemporary teaching that it is merely a source of pleasure — so incredibly crass — has consequences that are unambiguously evil. Consequences that can be spelt out rationally, step by frigging step. Which were in fact spelt out, very rationally, in Humanae Vitae, by the late Pope Paul. (I know this because as a clever young atheist, I read it through repeatedly, with the intention of mocking it; and could find in it not one connective that was logically unsound, and became thereby convinced, even as an aspiring young Helot, that contraception could not possibly be correct.) A rule remains a rule, and continues to be a rule, until someone can show an internal contradiction.

And in the depths, likewise, the principle of marriage must still be affirmed, no matter how many of the mad may oppose it. One woman and one man must be courageously vindicated. Deep, and deeper than that.

While it has entirely escaped media attention, the most massive public demonstrations on this continent are pretty much invariably the various annual marches against abortion — in which I have observed that females outnumber males, and the young outnumber the old, often by quite large margins. For the mainstream media, ten sign-waving feminist old crows can be important breaking news. But ten thousand marching young women, proclaiming Christian truth to their indifferent surroundings, does not quite rise to sending a junior reporter. This is how things are, and it is that craven media that impinges on public consciousness hour by hour, and day by day, de-moralizing and corrupting.

From my own experience on the pro-life “front line,” for instance walking along with fifteen thousand or more mostly young people in Ottawa a couple of years ago — and past e.g. the CBC television stand, whose cameras were trained on a small handful of old-crow feminist counter-demonstrators for the footage they would actually be using — I should like to make an observation.

First, a joyous observation, of how invigorating it was, to be in the company of so many ebullient and purposeful young. These were, in the main, the products of the catechism classes I was mentioning above: bright and cheerful young faces in contrast with the grim and cheerless I pass on the sidewalks every day. The same comment for events such as the Papal Youth Days, when quite literally millions of the children of good Catholic homes, or converts, are assembled. I wish to say about them nothing snide, but rather how much I love them.

At the Rose Dinner, in Ottawa, in the evening after the spring pro-life march, I had the opportunity to speak with quite a few of my much younger companions in arms. And again: they were impressive, case by case, as I was coming to see them not as a mass, but as many fine and particular faces, each already with a complex life story, and not one an interchangeable happy-clap zombie, of the sort the media stereotype portrays — though not entirely from malice. (In my experience, the overwhelming majority of journalists belong to a self-consciously brahmin, “progressive” social class, which eschews contact with those it considers “lower,” i.e. the worker bees and water-carriers of the “flyover country,” whose views could hardly matter to them.)

They were young, very young to my now ageing eyes, but in their ebullience we are all made timeless. Not only did I converse, I overheard them chatting about what “young people” chat about, as everyone chats: from out of the fodder of their daily lives. And in this mush, I heard so many of the clichés of the media also being mindlessly repeated, and saw the flip gestures that go with them. They, too, had inherited the wind from a godless society, and blew the wind on without even thinking. They had thought through their principles, and were basically obedient, as most young people are — whether it is to authority or to fashion. Still, do they have the deeper instinct, and the fortitude with the instinct, sometimes not to obey? To stand alone, under real and excruciating peer pressure, without external support, against the overpowering Zeitgeist?

And it was more in overhearing little unthinking remarks that I inwardly wept for them.

To be sure, they had the rules down. I did not meet one who could not articulately expound why he (or more usually she) was “protesting” against abortion. Yet that very word “protesting” gave part of the game away.

Nor really do I think that there was one whose firm belief was not rooted in the connexion between sex and babies. Nor, possibly, even one who did not therefore follow the connexions on through a range of other Christian teachings. They’d been taught, well enough.

Yet still there was something that seemed missing from them; something that curiously had not yet gone entirely missing, even from the hippies who were my own contemporaries in youth — self-conscious “fashion hippies” who had inherited many more of the “social conventions” and “unquestioned beliefs” of their “square” post-war parents than they could ever realize.

“Rules” were being “questioned,” way back then. And yet, viscerally, they were still being followed. The profound idea of “one man, one woman” was often outwardly rejected, even volubly rejected, but it was still viscerally there. It would take another generation of media indoctrination, lewd commercial advertising, and the ministrations of Nanny State, to root the very instincts of Western Civilization out of their souls and bowels. All that my own generation had lost, in the first instance, was the power of resistance, founded ultimately on those old unquestioned rules that told one through one’s conscience when one was doing wrong.

But more than this: told one through the same conscience when one was doing right. And sometimes, filled the soul with some distant echo of a pleasure, that was our Lord’s pleasure in the creation of His world.

Conscience still exists, however poorly formed, or twisted. The propensity to guilt will always be there, so long as we are human. As well, the propensity to moral satisfaction, however twisted that becomes. But what one ought to feel sorry for, or badly about, or thoroughly ashamed by, can be quite substantially altered by the intervention of ceaseless propaganda, and ruthless fashion, and the inversion of a system of reward and punishment through the social engineering of the State.

We have faith, of a kind, shaken sometimes even by minor earth tremors. We have faith vested essentially in a political order; in the belief that, where problems arise, they can be solved, and our “human spirit” (which is incidentally no material thing) will ultimately rise to the occasion. We are, in the voice of every political commander, “the people of this great nation,” and we are repeatedly assured that we will prevail.

Failing which, we fall into utter despair. For we have no other faith to fall back on, when the earth indeed trembles and our artificial tower comes tumbling down. And, whether or not it is in our strictest modern sense “historical,” the story of Babel in Genesis tells us what will be our fate.

If there is one use for the calendrical New Year, it is provided, unintentionally, through the media, and through the accidents of social life. Towards the end of the old year, and bleeding into the new, we are exposed to a higher density of “signs of the times” than at any other time of year. Partly this is a by-product of the media habit of looking backward and forward: precisely twelve months back and twelve months fore. It is an arbitrary thing, but usually their cycle is twenty-four hours, or less with the advance of consumer electronics. Christmas, now for many years an essentially secular holiday, with little pretense of Christian thanksgiving but a modicum of “traditional” good cheer, adds more to this density. In some moments, even for those whose Christian affiliation evaporated before childhood, there are juxtapositions, contrasts.

In the media, or if you will, at a Christmas Party, or on New Year’s Eve, a lot of human experience can be compacted into a very small space, and much quickly passes before our eyes and ears. One has glimpses of the radical opposition between good and evil, beauty and ugliness, the true and the false, exhibited as if on signboards that anyone can read.

There is, especially in cold northern countries, a kind of post-partum depression that sets in after the holidays have passed. The weather plays some part in this: we who live in the vast conurbations do not look with relish on the next few months. In the countryside, a fresh snowfall can be uplifting; can be the making, for instance, of a “white Christmas”; in the city it can only mean service delays, traffic hell, dangerous sidewalks. The let-down after excessive eating and drinking comes into this, too: the sense that the party is over, and it is back to work for us.

But I think something deeper also contributes to our sense, however mildly it is taken, of emptiness, loneliness, hopelessness.

I had a dream like this, the other evening. A baby was lying in the snow and slush. He’d been left there, accidentally discarded. People were busy, they were passing him by. I thought, he is cold, he has fallen on the sidewalk. Some woman must have dropped him on her way home. She’ll want to have him back, I must get him to her. But it was Christmas, there were legs on all these shoppers; the baby on the sidewalk kept sliding out of reach. I was trying to tell them, but no one could hear me; I could not even hear myself. Why can’t these people see there is a baby? A living baby, right at their feet? Why does no one stop for this baby, why doesn’t someone pick him up? And I awoke, thinking, “Jesus!”

But what I refer to is not a dream.

Is God at the center of Christmas?

This writer says so.

We are told that there are approximately 2 billion Christians all over the world. Many hundreds of millions of them are celebrating Christmas with great joy, hope, and devotion—most of them openly, but some in secret and in fear for their lives.

They are joined by hundreds of millions more people – nominal Christians and non-Christians—who enjoy the parties, candies, family traditions, special foods, gifts, music, decorations, days-off—all the emoluments, meeds, and premiums, all the glow, if you will, of the Christmas season. They bask in the pleasures of the holiday but remain indifferent to or uninterested in the fact that God is at the center of the thing.

Nowhere—nowhere—in the Bible are Christians commanded to observe Christ’s birthday.

They are simply given the facts concerning his birth: the manner of it, its place in man’s history, and its implications for man’s destiny. The event is recorded in only two places, the gospels of Matthew and Luke. It is described in a spare and straightforward narrative using remarkably chaste language: Angels without exaggeration; a heavenly host without hyperbole. And although we are given its historical context—the Augustan census taken between 6 and 4 B.C. for purposes of military service and taxation—we are not given the exact date or even time of year of the birth.

It is almost as if God said to man, “Make of this event what you will.”

And the result has been a spontaneous celebration, heartfelt and lasting; an expression of joy—a peculiarly infectious joy—that has echoed down through the centuries. History has judged the event astounding and the implications profound—God’s entry into human history for the purpose of delivering his most loved creation from the consequences of their own behavior. This birthday, fixed by tradition at the close of the year, has literally brought joy to the world, changed the way man keeps track of time, and inspired some of the greatest and most beautiful music, art, and literature of all time.

American Digest linked to this post at The American Magazine.

Merry Christmas from the You Tube animals

The animals of You Tube wish us a Merry Christmas.

I found it at American Digest

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas! I hope you are experiencing special joy this season.

It is a typically sunny day here in Colorado, and the mountains are covered with fresh snow.

This is my first Christmas not to be with family. I received an update from Colleen and Greg so far this morning. Stepson Erik drove all the way from Arvada, Colorado to Santa Fe, New Mexico (a six hour drive) to drop off presents at 4 a.m. this morning, then had to turn around and return because he is on call where he works as a diesel mechanic. A true Santa Claus!

I am actually very motivated to do some blogging today. I have been neglecting this blog, because I have been putting in long hours at work this holiday season. My "after retirement" job is being a cashier in a very popular big box store in Parker, Colorado. The store has had several thousand shoppers every day since Thanksgiving.

Therefore, the lack of people contact feels pretty good today. I love the interaction with the customers, but I still am somewhat of an introvert, and I thrive on the alone time to read and write.

Christians are winning the War on Christmas

Conor Friedersdorf goes to New York, Washington D.C. and Santa Monica to observe that

Christmas is the day when the cultural strength of Christianity in America is at its apex.

Love is the last word

Powerful words today from Ann Voskamp for kids. However, we adults need these words every bit as much as do our kids.

There is nothing more explosive than words.

Words are nitroglycerin. Words can literally ignite a heart, detonate like a global bomb — or explode in your face.

Listen, kids, listen like your life depends on it, because it does:

You can mean something — but if you say it mean, no one can hear your meaning.

Have convictions — but if you don’t have compassion, you will have trials.

Please, say what you believe — but please, always be love.

Measure your words — they determine the distance of your relationships.

Speak slow. Off-the-cuff words too often slap.

Hear me, get this, don’t ever forget this: The tongue is the tail of the heart. The heart is known by how the tongue wags.

Sending word-offenders to their room, figuratively or literally, may only polarize the situation and freeze positions. Cold hearts never changes words. Silencing people may not be the most effective way to educate people.

It’s a strange but powerful paradox that upends everything: Listening is what changes words.

The Word has come down in the midst of our conflicts and our messes and Jesus Christ, The Word, He’s lit the world. Everywhere, lights. He’s the final Word, the igniting fire that goes on forever and kindles and warms and saves.

You can see it today — the whole weary world drawing nearer now, coming close to rejoice.

Because the Babe in the manger is the ultimate blessed proof –

that Love is always the last word.

How do we get ready for Christmas?

Ann Voskamp writes today,

Advent – this is the season of preparing that prepares us for any season of life — because we are preparing our lives for Christ to enter in — which prepares for us the life without end.

Is that the ultimate purpose of this life — the preparing for the next life?

Is this why Christmas, Advent, unlike any other time of year, glimmers with a glimpse of heaven — because it’s the time of year we’re fulfilling our purpose, preparing for Christ and His coming again?

The Christmas tree’s been lit for weeks, a beacon, a preparing, an anticipation.

Why is it easier to make Christmas cookies than to make our hearts ready for Christ?

Turning the calendar page to December doesn’t turn life into this dance of the sugarplum fairies.

Christ shied from the sanitized — He chose the dung heaps and entered in at our stinking places. Thank God. I need a God like that.

Our loving God always comes to us wrapped in the unlikely.

Is that how we get ready for Christmas? By readying the heart to receive the gift of every moment — no matter what the moment unexpectedly holds — as a gift of His love?

Christmas: a time to get more possessions?

What famous person said,

‘Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions.’” (Luke 12:15)

Then why do we celebrate His birth by making sure our loved ones have more possessions?

Home for Christmas

Guest post by Suzann Darnall

Some things I've seen recently on television and the internet have reminded me of the sacrifice and service given by our military. Sacrifice that goes on 24/7, 365 days a year. Service that does not stop for weather, weekends, or even holidays. So, in their honor and memory, I am going to depart, again, from my political topics and talk about something from my heart and somewhat more fitting to the season. I hope no one minds a little more Christmas spirit. Especially as this is an update of a previous posting. But, I really feel I cannot say it any better now than I did before. It truly did come from my heart and is therefore as true today as it was the first time.

I'll be home for Christmas

You can plan on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the lovelight gleams

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams

In many ways this song has become the unofficial Christmas carol of the military. I know it has long signified military holidays to me, although I was lucky to actually have very few Christmases without my father or my husband. Quite a miracle, considering I spent 40 years of my life following Air Force blue as a daughter or wife.

This song was always a favorite of mine. But, it really came to the forefront of my holiday preferences when my father was in Vietnam in 1972. We had word he was coming home for Christmas and that made the song personal. The last line, "If only in my dreams" wasn't important. It was that first line, "I'll be home for Christmas" that mattered. This is something I found, over the years, which is shared by many military members and families. It is all about the hopes and dreams in that first line. We just sort of shove that last line out of the way and ignore its implications.

As we celebrate this holiday season in which many of us honor the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ, let us remember some of the most important gifts we have ever been given. Christ Himself was a gift from our Heavenly Father. Christ went on to give us the gift of His sacrifice to atone for our sins. These are gifts immeasurable. But, others have bestowed great gifts upon us as well.

Our American military has been giving us the gifts of sacrifice, freedom, and safety for well over 200 years. They have not just done this for American citizens, but for people around the world. Some have given their all and their graves bear witness of this. Others have given more than we can imagine. We have wounded warriors from coast to coast trying to regain some semblance of normalcy in their lives after having their bodies and/or minds shattered by the horrific wounds and terrors of war.

Winter, war, our military, December, and Christmas are inextricably linked in my mind. From Valley Forge to Pearl Harbor. Whether with or without snow, winter war is harsh.

I lived in both Hawaii and Japan in my years as a military dependent. Sort of the bookends of World War II in the Pacific. While living in Hawaii as a teenager, I remember the radar field on the island of Oahu looking like Christmas angels. The kind of paper angels school kids used to make from doilies. We called them Guardian Angels. Military and their families have long memories about wars.

One thing I always remember about military Christmas times is the generosity. If a father was gone there were always neighbors to help put together bikes. When my husband was on missile crew, where the guys were out for 24 hours at a time, there were often trade-offs during the holidays. The bachelors would pull duty on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so family and married men could be home. Then, the family guys would do New Year's Eve to reciprocate, so bachelors could celebrate. Not a big thing, I guess, but it mattered to all of us.

I also remember baking lots and lots of Christmas cookies over the years as a military brat and wife. Traditionally, squadron wives would do a cookie swap party in December. We would bring two dozen cookies. One dozen was to eat as refreshments at the party, while the other dozen was to freeze until Christmas, when they would be sent out to all the folks on holiday duties.

I also remember years and years of being Santa and Santa's elf when my father or husband was on TDY (temporary duty) prior to or on Christmas. A TDY is sort of the military equivalent of a business trip and can last two days, two weeks, or two months. So, families learn to cope. And, sometimes this means Mom does ALL the Christmas-ing, while other times it means the older kids learn the real story of Santa a little sooner than expected.

Since my husband retired from the military and our children have grown up, my Christmases have changed quite a bit. But, the holiday happenings still bring to mind those traditions from Air Force life. I think of Christmas cookie swap parties when I bake loaves of quick bread to pass out as gifts. When my firefighter son-in-law has to work Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, I know my oldest daughter has be Santa AND Santa's elf, just like I used to do. And, this year, we especially have the feeling of having someone be home for Christmas, 'cause our youngest daughter and her children have moved in with us.

I was blessed to always be home for Christmas, 'cause home has sorta always been where I was. I am a nester, apparently by nature and nurture. Even when we were travelling for the holidays, I was home 'cause I had family with me and we were usually at one of my favorite places to be anyway, like grandparents.

But, I also know that not everyone is like me. For many folks, home is a very specific location. And, many military folks are far away from that much loved place. A place that makes them want to get home for the holidays.

I understand that better now that we have a permanent place to call home. So, now, when I sing the words, "I'll be home for Christmas", I know exactly where it is talking about. I know a little better what everyone else has felt all those years. And, I know more sympathy for those who are far from home. Especially those serving in hazardous duty spots.

I hope for all the military families that they get to experience the joy of having that song come true for their military member. I know many are coming home this Christmas season from war zones, but others will still be deployed in far away places, some of which are dangerous. Let us each say a little prayer this season for peace. For the sake of all our people going in harm's way. May God bless our American military . . . and their families. May everyone someday be home for Christmas!

© Suzann C. Darnall, DECEMBER 2013 UPDATED

All I Want for Christmas . . .

Guest post by Suzann Darnall

. . . Is the strength to face what is coming in the midterm election battles. But, what I will settle for is the joy I know I will see in the faces of my loved ones. I know there will be numerous opportunities for sharing love and laughter along with some traditions and tears.

I look forward to the new traditions that are cropping up as my family expands and we add new experiences that suit both younger and older members. I look forward to the sorta kinda new, yet old, experience of having kids living in the home expecting Santa to visit and the joy we will see on their faces when they awaken Christmas morning to see presents under the tree. I also look forward to old traditions, like going to view the Windcrest Christmas light tour, down in San Antonio, with our children and grandchildren. Then, we do dessert afterwards at one of the nearby restaurants. Or, getting together on Christmas Eve to open family gifts. Or, gathering on Christmas Day to have a family feast. Or doing one of the dozens of little things that make it Christmas at my home or with my family.

I will once again tally these small blessings, cherish them, and use the joy they bring as a shield against the things which would bring unhappiness into my soul. And, unfortunately, I think 2014, like each year since Obama's election, will carry a big load of unhappy. The kind of unhappy that ain't gonna get better quick. In fact, I am pretty sure we will all be suffering for as many years as the Progressives hold the upper-hand in government. .

But, we cannot give up. We must bolster ourselves to keep fighting those who would oppress us. We must use the good things in our lives to give us strength to resist the bad things. We must join together with like-minded family, friends, and members of our communities to spread the word that bigger government, higher taxation, and increased regulation are not the solution, they just acerbate the problems our country currently faces.

As we celebrate this holiday season, let us remember with each Christmas bell we hear that America is the place on earth where we should always and forever let freedom ring! Not just the freedoms that people on the Left like Barack Obama, George Soros, or Hillary Clinton happen to approve of, but ALL of the freedoms to which we are entitled under our Constitution and Bill of Rights.

So, I ask all Conservatives to enjoy whatever holiday they celebrate this season. I will be celebrating an oh so traditional Christmas. But, I have friends who will celebrate Hanukkah and some who will celebrate both. It does not matter. One of the freedoms we are supposed to enjoy and support is the freedom to worship as we will . . . and to allow that freedom to others. A tolerance I fear is being trampled further down into the dust every day.

Store up the good memories of this coming month. Use them as an impetus to fight to preserve our way of life so that we can have more good times in the coming years and so there will be good times for our posterity in the coming decades.

May I wish to all y'all a happy holiday, whichever one you may celebrate! I, of course, will be hoping for a very merry Christmas. Not exactly holding my breath for that Happy New Year, though. I think that got deep-sixed with the implementation of the ever-expanding ObamaCare disaster.

© Suzann C. Darnall, DECEMBER 2013 UPDATED

Sarah Palin interviewed by Bill O'Reilly

Go here to watch the full interview with Sarah Palin on Bill O'Reilly's show.

Week one: Hope

Ann Voskamp wants us to have an upside-down Christmas this year. To encounter Jesus in a fresh way. Advent: coming...waiting. We are the people living after Christ's resurrection: the hallelujah people, always anticipating the coming of Christ again.

Week one: the Hope candle. We reach out to that one tree; the tree on which He hung, and we hold onto Him. But who knew that the limbs of the tree, that love, were reaching for us!

He doesn't write answers for us in the stars; He writes answers for us in His scars. What ultimately comforts us is not knowing His plan, but knowing His presence. Look for His presence this week in small ways, in tender shoots.

Thanks, Ann.