Thankful Heart

Yes, and every night will end
And every day will start
With a grateful prayer
And a thankful heart

Scrooge was saved! In the George C. Scott version, I believe, the Ghost of Christmas Past came for his "reclamation." Oh for the increasing fulfillment of the evidence of my own reclamation. I want to be able to sing with the angels and muppets and former scrooges that every night will end and every day will start with a grateful prayer and a thankful heart! As I write this my youngest asks to be taken to the pool (!) now, to practice some strokes. What? Now? Before dinner? No way! And leave me alone while I write my blog!!! Sheesh!

Anyway...where was I?

Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer

(Editor's Note: The original draft of this blog was lost, due to some inane loop when "insert image" was fat-fingered on the iPhone instead of spell check. This necessitated a lot of fussing, getting out of bed, signing in to the right account (additional editor's note-see 12/27 post by "Laurie"--which it really wasn't--it was by me, but I was signed in as Laurie, who apparently has posting privileges on my blog--which is fine, but I'm just trying to clarify) and then trying to recapture an inspired moment that happened in the warmth of my bed. Now I am freezing out of bed, writing this. Anyway, the original post mused on Rudolph's red nose, old time depictions of drunks in the comics, a stomach bug that caught some of our family a few days before Christmas, and the idea of red bums as a result of said bug. The line of thinking was going to rapidly degenerate from there, so I ended it tactfully, but alas...)

I wonder why Rudolph's nose was red?

(Editor's note: I just can't do it...)

The Christmas Song

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

There are many incredible scriptural songs celebrating the birth of Christ. Mel Torme's tune is not one of them. It is, however, perhaps my favorite Christmas-y song which I'll never sing at a Christmas Eve service.

I grew up with Johnny Mathis's and Frank Sinatra's old school versions. I also appreciate Nat King Cole's, Anything since then is pretty disappointing (all due respects to Amy Grant). There's just something 50's/60's, New York City Christmas about the song. All quiet, hopeful, peaceful...the expectation of Santa (yet so much more). It's appropriate for kids from one to 92...And when I hear that song, those versions, I can catch a wisp of dreamy, child-like Christmases of long ago.

Jingle Bells

Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse, open sleigh...

One year ago we could have been, had we sleighs and horses.  I like snow, but I'm glad we don't have it now, like that.

Deck The Halls

So, because of the Bumpass Hounds, there was Oriental Duck, or Chinese Turkey, for Christmas Dinner. Ralphie got his Red Ryder BB Gun. And all was well.

There was so much food this year. It began with Turkey at Thanksgiving. We had pork roast, Estonian "holiday" sausages, stew cooked all day over an open fire in an iron cauldron, ham, pie, rock cakes...It's not even New Year's and I'm making resolutions that last 'til the next meal time. I am truly thankful for the delicious feasting of which we partook. At some point, gathering around a meal with friends and family became more dear than ripping into gifts.

Tomorrow, life returns to some normalcy, for me at least, and a wonderful break will be over. I'll battle wistfulness, some nostalgia, memories like "the last time I was doing this, I was looking forward to..."

Right now, I'm looking forward to lying down and drifting off to sleep at the end of another wonderful, blessed day.

O Tannenbaum

This year, we got our tree earlier than ever--the weekend after Thanksgiving. Our tradition is to pick out a tree from Taylor's Do-It Center ($9.99 and up in years past). We eschew the fancier, glitchier places that spring up near churches (Holy Family or Wave) and use the significant savings to treat ourselves to lunch at Tijuana Flats (home of "Smack My Ass and Call Me Sally" hot sauce). This year was perfect--a beautiful tree, some new lights, delicious chimichangas and ghost pepper hot sauce. We cut the base off the trunk bottom, mixed a solution designed to preserve the tree's vibrancy and set it up. This year, the tree absorbed the water, so we diligently monitored the water level. All to no avail. Within two weeks, the tree browned. I went ahead and strung some lovely lights. Every contact, brush against the limbs and branches yielded a shower of needles, a sound like hail.

So this year we didn't get to the part where ornaments went on the tree.  Die Bletter weren't too grün. But that's ok.

I saw a devotional that reminds that the One whose birth we celebrate with a tree now, set his face like a flint toward Jerusalem and another tree. Thank you, Jesus!

Has it been so long.....?

So, spiritual mentors such as Dallas Willard, Brennan Manning and Richard Foster remind us of the importance of time alone with God. Not just "quiet time", but quiet time.

I'm here to confess, I can't get there. I note the date of my last post...almost a year and a half ago. Blog posts don't equate to time with God by any stretch, but for me, a post might come when I think I might have something to say, even to myself.

I also confess a certain level of panic when I feel/think I have nothing to say. It's not true, of course, but I'll admit, I am steeped in existentialism and it is a darn hard road to hoe outta there. So, I am trusting, trying to trust that "we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." (Romans 5:3-5 NKJV).

I always picture tribulations as coming from active persecution; the kind that results in imprisonment, confiscation of property, torture and martyrdom. I don't enjoy the prospect of any of those things. I realize that traffic, the complaints of folks at work, the demands of customers and superiors are enough to severely test my peace and faith. I could only imagine if, along with those everyday challenges, I had to deal with active persecution. As I test myself on this, I don't come out so well.

Jesus, please bless and strengthen those brothers and sisters who are enduring overt persecution and hostility. Give them knowledge of your presence and your plan. And for those brothers and sisters who are struggling to persevere in faithfulness as they muck about in the slough of despond or get waylaid by the sights and sounds of Vanity Fair...Lord give us vision and direction. Let our eyes not grow dull, our hearts weary.

Prone to wander...Lord, I feel it....so I pray along with the hymn writer..."Lord let me never, never outlive my love for thee...!"