Today is Tuesday, 2-22-2022, and it is being called 2s day! I have to laugh! I have, unfortunately been absent from writing here on this, my beloved website, for most of nine months. Life things, world things, home things, had to be attended. I normally don’t write much during the summer anyway, due to being active and outdoorsy, but I’ve also lost an autumn, a winter, and, ouch, a Christmas writing season. I almost got depressed, not having the time to compose, or even rub two words together. But many pieces of work pressed on me, and I did “write things in my head”. They accumulated a kind of “pressure” that I must open the valve of writing to relieve. Here is one of them:
EMBRACE THE FADE
I’m getting old. My eyesight is dimming. I can no longer see “the world” as well. It is fading from my sight. My hearing is diminishing as well. Some frequencies are just gone! It was bound to happen. They, whomever they are, say this is normal and natural. Perhaps, but I do not like it . . .
My strength, too, is fading. I can no longer lift heavy objects without pain. I cannot grip with power, nor can I throw things far. I am slower. I can no longer run far, or even walk as far as I once was able. I can no longer do the many wonderful things that, in my youth, I could do easily and do well.
Worst of all, my memory is fading in distressing ways. My once copious vocabulary is condensed into just a little more than essentials. I struggle to think of the right words when, not long ago, a large number of them were within my grasp on my mind’s menu. (It’s a destitution of words) I thank God for internet dictionaries and thesauruses!
Perhaps even my soul and spirit are beginning to fade from the world. Am I perceiving correctly?
I hope you haven’t given up and quit reading because it sounds like I’m complaining, and this is a very negative piece. Far be it, and God forbid, for I thank Him joyfully that I have made it this far up the road, and that He has allowed me to have this much left! His grace, and mercy, toward me abound!
And here’s the thing:
Sure, this world is fading from my sight, and my hearing, and there are artificial means to partially remedy that, but resistance is futile when all is said and done. However! It has been given me to reveal some good news! As my old world inexorably fades out, my New World is fading in, so to speak. Perhaps a better word for it is materializing. Or, being manifested. And, oh!, the wonders I am just beginning to see and hear!
The new strength I’m just beginning to know, and my grasp of new things is germinating. I know now that there is a whole new vocabulary God has for me. Names and ways of description that never have been used in this old world. My soul and spirit being bound to a body in this physical plane are slowly and gently being untangled and freed. The “world” is fading in their sight as well, as a departing sailing vessel fades into the mist and emerges out of a mist to dock on the other side. Are they beginning to perceive the new body, and new world that will be theirs?
As I ponder these things, I have peace. I’m learning not to fear. The last vestiges of fear are fading out, never to fade back in. The pain of fading out here is eclipsed and erased in the brilliant and glorious fade-in where Father God and Jesus are waiting to bring me, bring all true believers, the unfadingcompleteperfection of sight, and sound, and mind, and body, and Love, and Life.
This is the time of expectant waiting and preparation for the celebration of Jesus’ birth – the most unprecedented, and unequaled; the most earth-shakingevent in human history!
(Well, depending on how you perceive it, it’s definitely one of the top two!)
The word “Advent” comes from the Latin “adventus” which means coming, or arrival, of a person or thing.
In this special and absolutely unique case,
what is coming is rich in mystery;
profound in its implications! Excitement builds in Heaven and earth!
I find it interesting that the words “Advent” and “adventure” are so closely related, which is fitting since we are waiting and preparing for the arrival of a series of awe-inducing, exciting events :
All that surrounds Jesus’ Nativity celebration, A son is to be given, 700 year-old prophecy to be fulfilled, The imminent arrival of Emmanuel, “God With Us”,
The Kingdom of God being established on Earth,
Reconciliation with the Father,
Renewal of all things, Rescue of the perishing, Redemption of souls,
Atonement,
Forgiveness,
Abundant life,
Signs and wonders,
Miraculous acts, Great Joy will be made available to all people,
Messiah! Savior! Christ! He’s coming, already, not yet, and soon! The image of The Father will walk on earth, The advent of Love!
And more, and more, and more! And, in the fullness of time, Jesus’ long-awaited final return!
When someone important to us is coming to visit, we know we must wait. Patiently or not. Before their arrival, we must prepare as best we can. Thus, we are waiting, and prayerfully preparing, not just for events, but for the arrival of the Personage without whom there would be no experience of exciting spiritual adventure, no exploration of mysteries unknown, no real and true experience of love and life whatsoever.
But for the birth of the little Lord Jesus, I could not live. As He is born, so am I.
So are we all!
I wait and look forward to honoring His birth; to observing the amazing circumstances that surround it.
It has “happened” again and again in countless hearts and minds. It is happening now in mine,
and will again, endlessly, with passage of time.
I ceremoniously light the first candle in the Advent wreath,
the candle of hope, also, the first flame in my heart.
The expectant waiting and preparation of my heart applies not only to Christbirth,
but to Resurrection Sunday, Thanksgiving, and Jesus’ final return as well.
Advent is an important concept.
It is exciting, yet peaceful at the same time.
I want to make it part of me;
I want to live it.
Advent First Week
The first week of Advent is said to be concentrated upon the hope of the Savior’s arrival as supported by the Scriptures’ prophetic promises. There are several pertinent verses, but I chose this one :
“The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the gracious promise I made to the house of Israel and to the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line; he will do what is just and right in the land.” (Jeremiah 33:14-15).
O, Jesus, We await your sweet arrival!
~~~~~~
Words and Music for Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow by Charles Wesley:
Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus
1. Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee. Israel’s strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art; dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.
2. Born thy people to deliver, born a child and yet a King, born to reign in us forever, now thy gracious kingdom bring. By thine own eternal spirit rule in all our hearts alone; by thine all sufficient merit, raise us to Thy* glorious throne.
(*emphases, mine)
The hope that we children of God have is a confident hope,
an enduring and an eternal hope. Peter tells us that the Child of God has “an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade – kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter: 1-4 )
Advent Week Two
The second week of Advent is focused on peace.
Waiting becomes a bit more intense as we add the expectancy of hope and peace in preparation for our Savior’s arrival.
We light the second candle,
the candle of peace, If not on our tables, Then in our hearts. And light increases. It doubles! We can hardly wait until the full light
of His glorious presence shines upon the world,
and also upon each of us!
“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” (Isaiah 9:6).
Jesus is the only one that can bring peace with God.
“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1).
And suddenly there appeared with the angel a great multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to all mankind upon which His favor rests!” Luke 2: 13-14
Here’s a song that is full of hope and peace, And light too!
Advent Third Week
We are in the third and final full week preceding the joy-filled celebration day!
This week we savor the JOY surrounding His coming to live with us!
Emmanuel – here because of The Father’s love for all people.
In this third week, we also remember all the proclamations made about our coming Christ-child, our Messiah, our glorious Savior; proclamations by Isaiah, by angels, by Elizabeth, by Mary, by Zechariah, by more angels, and by many others.
Luke 2:9 Just then, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid! For behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people!
He is coming not to condemn those lost in the dark, but to give them a saving light. What joy it is to know Him, having been one of those lost, and now having His light.
And what a joy it is to know the astounding love of The Father,
Who sent this generous gift of His Son!
(many thanks, Spadecaller, for the upload. Your art is moving!)
I light the third candle,
the candle of joy,
And light increases again.
Even the stars seem brighter,
and the moon waxes!
The candle flames have kindled
a fire of rejoicing in my heart!
I, the least of believers, proclaim this joy, proclaim His glory, (like it says in the header at the top)
And suddenly, we come to:
The Fourth Sunday of Advent Today, December 24, 2017 (four years ago) is the fourth Sunday of Advent,
which also coincides with Christmas Eve.
We light the fourth candle – the love candle,
in my book, the easiest one to light in the heart,
for Father God loved us first, and then sent His Jesus
to enable us to fully love Him.
Love rescued and love reconciled!
This candle also signifies His presence.
The Advent season is all about expectant waiting;
excited, hopeful, waiting for the Baby’s presence!
We want Him to be born soon!
We want to see Him!
He seems so close,
The air is charged.
We can almost feel angels in the air.
The Spirit of God certainly presides over our village.
Everything is poised; miraculously in position.
Mary, her Baby, Joseph, shepherds,
angels – lots of angels!
Peace and joy are closing in.
Tonight is the Holy Night – Jesus Christ’s night.
The Advent of Christ is all but complete.
Are preparations perfect? Is my heart ready for His arrival? I find myself wishing that I could be better prepared, And more ready, But, He. Was. Born. Last. Night ! ? !
Could it be?
Yes, it is:
Christmas Day
And so, the season of expectant waiting is complete!
I light the largest, purest, center candle,
the only One left. and the flame in my heart roars to life! To life! Hope is fulfilled! In our Immanuel, our Jesus,
all prophecies and promises are now reality! His name is Light of the World! His name is Peace!
His name is Son!
His name is Love! His name is Savior! His name is King! His name is Everlasting! His name is God! His presence is good news, bringing great joy for all people! His presence makes darkness flee! The Light of the World has finally come! And like so many believers, so many bloggers, I repeat the sounding JOY!
Joy To the World, and Peace to ALL mankind!
Joy to the World, the Lord has come! Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And Heaven and nature sing, And Heaven and nature sing, And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing!
Joy to the World, the Savior reigns! Let men their songs employ; While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains Repeat the sounding joy, Repeat the sounding joy, Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy!
No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground; He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found, Far as the curse is found, Far as, far as, the curse is found!
He rules the world with truth and grace, And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness, And wonders of His love, And wonders of His love, And wonders, wonders, of His love!
~ ~ ~
And yet,
it is not over . . .
I must stay prepared;
keep waiting expectantly;
with confident hope,
with all the peace, joy, and love, grace can provide; The “second” Advent begins now, And all Creation is pregnant with anticipation!
I’m pleased to be here to announce the birth of my new book. But pleased is not enough. I’m happy to announce it! No, happy doesn’t quite do it either. I joyfully announce the birth of my new book!
It’s my first paperback, and I’m like a kid who just received exactly what he wanted for Christmas! No, I’m not like a child, I am a child – a child of God! I am the ordinary, if not insignificant, young boy, remarkable only because I happened to be on the scene, and I was willing to give Him my plain little loaves of stories that He, Himself, inspired. Along with the loaves, I shared some of the small, but potentially nourishing, word-fishes I had in my lunch sack . I hope, and pray, and have faith, that my Master will multiply these light loaves and salty fishes, these stories, as only He can do, that they might be “eaten”, digested, and otherwise put to good use by any readers who might need spiritual sustenance, might need a nudge toward The One who can resolve and redeem all troubles.
Every single reader of my stuff is loved, and cherished, and prayed for, by yours truly!
Great blocks of grace, upon grace, upon grace Layered from peak to earth Forming wondrous pyramidal base Which I gratefully abide atop Surveying the miracle of rebirth The Highest, whom I might praise nonstop See brightest springtime rays of morning Where mercy, upon mercy, upon mercy’s dawning Secured by the mortar of rescue undeserved Falling like rain from One I scarcely served. The gilding of hope, upon hope, upon hope Edges draped with gleaming golden rope Where I am preserved, I wait Held by Love’s embrace, upon embrace, upon embrace Temple of Jehovah, Yahweh, Adonai Jesus, Messiah, El-Shaddai O Ancient Of Days, right here I’ll wait Being held by Love, upon hope, upon mercy, upon faith Living high upon grace, upon grace, upon grace Upon grace, upon grace, upon grace.
After a busy, but very pleasurable, Advent season,
I find myself still, and resting in peace this evening.
What an eventful time I’ve had here at “Gloryteller”
over the last three weeks and five days!
It passed so quickly, I can hardly catch my breath! I’ve learned new things about the Christ Child’s birth
and some of the “old” things have struck me in new ways.
I went deep into the sweetly miraculous Profound Mystery, and today,
after the crescendo buildup of excitement surrounding –
The Birth That Shook The Earth,
I find myself overwhelmed;
physically and emotionally drained, but spiritually uplifted . . .
The Baby is sleeping peacefully now.
He and His family have endured a world-changing night;
A mother-changing, husband-changing, son-changing night!
I feel like I went through it with them, in a sense . . .
And, at this moment, about all I can do
is be still and adore Him,
be still in the knowledge that He is my Lord God,
be still and worship Him,
be still and rest here at His feet . . .
Still, still, still, His bright eyes softly close And Mary, breathless, Draws him sleeping To her heart, Made pure for keeping Still, still, still, His bright eyes softly close.
Sleep, sleep, sleep, He hears, and sweetly smiles. And kneeling Joseph Joins in chorus With the angels Bending o’er us Sleep, sleep, sleep, He hears, and sweetly smiles.
Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, He breathes a tender sigh, For soon he’ll wake The world from slumber Bringing life And endless wonder Sleep, Sleep, Sleep He breathes a tender sigh
Sleep, Holy Jesus, Sleep . . .
~ ~ ~
I really like this Austrian Christmas carol in the form of a lullaby.
(a “lullbaby” perhaps?) It so saturates me with peace . . . And tonight, dear Jesus, I will simply be still and know –
know that you are no more than human –
know that you are no less than God . . .
But now, dear reader, I must sadly,
yet joyfully, send out one last, heartfelt, Merry Christmas and wishes for peace to you this season. It is Christmas night, 2020, Goodnight from Lenn, here at Gloryteller.com
* * Für die deutschsprachigen Völker:
Stille, stille, stille, Seine hellen Augen schließen sich leise Und Maria, atemlos, Zieht ihn schlafend Zu ihrem Herzen, Rein zum Halten gemacht Immer noch, immer noch, immer noch, Seine hellen Augen schließen sich leise.
Schlaf Schlaf Schlaf,
Er hört und lächelt freundlich.
Und kniend Joseph
Joins im Chorus
Mit den Engeln
Über uns gebeugt
Schlaf Schlaf Schlaf,
Er hört und lächelt freundlich. Schlaf Schlaf Schlaf, Er atmet einen zärtlichen Seufzer, Denn bald wird er aufwachen Die Welt aus dem Schlummer Leben bringen Und endloses Wunder Schlaf Schlaf Schlaf Er atmet einen zärtlichen Seufzer Schlaf, heiliger Jesus Schlaf * *
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~ *~* ~*~*~* ~
A fun little distraction while we wait.
Do you like prime numbers?
(Prime numbers are evenly divisable
only by themselves and 1)
To help you get started, the first three
prime numbers are 2, 3, and 5.
Remember, 1 is not a prime number.
Children of any age, look what can be done with them:
(One Star and five prime numbers . . . a Christmas tree of perfection!)
(Remember to turn your phone sideways or it won’t work right)
Can you decipher the pattern? Count up the stars (*s) or the words in each row.
Which numbers do you get?
Are they all prime numbers which make up the “trees”?
* ** *** ***** ******* *********** !
The
Star is
on top, sovereign
His light illuminates all life
below. All below Him, made in perfection.
Gathered, enfolded, protected – like a mother hen does – under His wings.
!!!
!!!
Is this tree upside-down? Wrong? Distressing? Let it not be so! It
is made in perfection, for He is still supreme and sovereign.
All lives supported upon His shoulders. Kept
by His strength. Maintained by
His goodness. Lit
by His
Love. * * *
~ ~ ~
Always remember Who created the prime numbers,
and all numbers, and how to count
things, and math, and music, and rhythm,
and orderliness, and the dance of the
moons around planets, planets around stars, and
stars inside galaxies! God created all those for our use
and our enjoyment!
Merry Merry Christmas! Happy Happy Christbirth! How many days left? Is it a prime number? : >) * * *
I’m not thrilled about the word Christmas. I’m not crazy about the word Easter either. But I very much love the events those two words represent.
Words are only symbols that we use to convey, or identify, things, events, or ideas. Often, the words we devise (or, in this case, that are devised for us) are less than ideal, or appropriate, or even accurately descriptive in representing the actual thing being described.
I believe that “Christmas” is such a word. I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to delve into the origins, meanings, and protests concerning the word “Christmas”. I have been through it, and it’s not pretty. Some say it’s downright blasphemy, wickedness, and sin to use it.
However, Nevertheless, and, Be That As It May, the event that has come to be known to us as “Christmas” is the event that shook the earth. It is the truth of the event that is important, not necessarily the word we have adopted to describe it. To my way of thinking, the birth of Jesus was, and is, the most momentous occurrence in history. It is to be celebrated – its story told and retold in truth to the ends of the earth. So ( Blast semantics!) I do say both “Merry Christmas”
as well as “Happy Christbirth”, and I do say “Happy Easter” although “Happy Resurrection Sunday” is much more descriptive, because I know I will be understood by the general public
when I use the common language, and also by Christians, in general. And by any of those greetings, I mean Hallelujah! Rejoice! Celebrate enthusiastically! For, unto us a child is born! Our Savior lives! He has come to live with us!
– And –
In the Spring, I mean He is risen! Our Savior lives! And in His glory He will come down again!
So, here’s the thing – here’s my point: Instead of the term “Christmas”,
I prefer the much more descriptive word, “Christbirth” (which I think I have invented, haha,) (but someone may have beaten me to it, I really don’t know) to represent this wondrous, marvelous event, but, no matter what word we use in reference, at Jesus’ birth, the very Word of God came to live among us, with us, and, in time, in us, so that we, despite our inclination to sin, might have the right to be “born” into a new world – a world of saving grace, faith, hope, and of love, into God’s presence; born and reborn in a new, a wondrous, a marvelous, and a miraculous way, Just as Jesus was, before us!
He was born in an obscure village,
the child of a young peasant woman.
He grew up in another obscure village,
where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty,
and then for three years He was an itinerant preacher.
He never wrote a book.
He never held an office.
He never had a family or owned a home.
He never went to college.
He never visited a metropolis.
He never traveled more than two hundred miles
from the place where He was born.
He never did any of the things that usually accompany greatness.
He had no credentials but Himself.
In His early thirties, the tide of public opinion turned against Him. His friends ran away. One of them denied Him. Another betrayed Him. He was turned over to His enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While He was dying, His executioners gambled for His clothing,
the only property He had on earth. When he was dead, He was taken down
and laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend. More than twenty wide centuries have come and gone,
yet today He remains the central figure of the human race,
and the leader of mankind’s progress. I am well within the mark when I say
that all the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that ever were built, and all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of mankind
upon this earth as significantly as has that One Solitary Life.
Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think,
in one way or another,
about Christ’s crucifixion, His resurrection, and His ascension. Today is no different. But wait,
it is different, for today is His Church’s official celebration of that
creation-changing,
world-changing,
life-changing Day. Today, let there be loud singing and joyous dancing. Let there be massive celebration over all the Earth,
for our Jesus is alive! Let there be all of that but, most importantly,
let Him be the Lord of your life.
Rejoice, My Soul, All People, Rejoice!
I celebrate this holiest Of all the days of holiness, For as the sun appears to rise in the East, The Son of God did arise on Easter – Resurrection Day, The greatest Day the Lord Has Made. I rejoice and I am exceedingly glad in it, For my Savior lives! Oh, Lord, He lives! Now and forever, He lives! And because He lives, So can I! For my heart, too, was sealed With hardened stone, And in that darkened tomb Dwelt death. With tender touch He moved The hardened part away To let in light and life So death was put to death. The Holy Spirit Jesus sent Was sent to live in me. As Christ began to breathe for me I felt my spirit leap. It leapeth still in Heaven’s realm, So graciously removed from hell That I can only raise my hands and say, “Rejoice, all people, rejoice! Hallelujah, praise God, rejoice!” For our Savior lives and breathes in us! He arose! He conquered bitter death and saved! He does that still, today!
~ ~ ~
With love, Your Gloryteller
Resurrection Sunday, 4-12-2020
(re-posted, with edits, from 3-31-2013) * * * * * * *
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I read inOur Daily Bread today that “our Savior hung between Heaven and earth to bear every sin of every generation on His shoulders.” He hung between Heaven and me . . . What pain it gives me to revisit that scene . . . But the above statement led me to think deeply about what He had told his disciples and us, only the night before He hung there – what we must do to remember Him; to remember who He was, to remember what He did, how He did it, and why.
As I pondered, and contemplated, and thought, “The Lord’s Supper is absolute genius” is what I concluded. (not that I think I’m the first, nor the only one, to proclaim that)
(and I know that I foolishly reiterate the obvious,
because of course it’s genius, it’s Jesus! ) He broke the bread and compared it to His body which would imminently be broken for us. He poured the wine out and compared it to His blood which would soon be poured out for us.
“He hung between Heaven and earth.” He was, and is now, intermediary between us and The Father. Not as a wall, but as a bridge. He made a way to raise us to His shoulders, thus standing between us and the evil one “in the earth”.
As for myself, there is far more here than “meets the eye”. Have you ever thought about how grains like corn, barley, rye, and wheat are all separated from the earth by a woody stem? The seed head of the wheat plant is the “fruit”, in a sense, that we use to make our bread.
The same applies to “the fruit of the vine”; tomatoes, cucumbers, kiwi, guava, and, get this – passion fruit – and predominantly, grapes. All grow above the ground on woody or semi-woody vines. They all contain juice, but grape juice makes “traditional” wine. (side note: there is great debate whether Jesus’ “fruit of the vine” was unfermented juice, or wine) I’m in the wine camp because wine stores better, not to mention that the Bible states “wine”. I won’t even dwell on apple, orange, peach, plum trees, or berry bushes,
each of which produce juicy fruit on woody stems; but I’m getting off track.
The point is that grapevines, like wheat plants, produce their fruit “between Heaven and earth” on woody stems, and the final product of both were used at the Lord’s Supper. The Last Supper of our Lord!
By now you may be making the connection I’m getting at. Lord Jesus compared His body to a broken loaf of bread, and His covenantal blood to the poured-out juice of the grape, in order that: “as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you will do so in remembrance of Me.” Connecting His spiritual Self to the physical act of
eating and drinking something specific,
is brilliant in my estimation. It makes the act sacred, and simultaneously
makes our remembrance of Him sacred.
But for me, it doesn’t end there.
Jesus was always using agricultural metaphors because,
I assume, most everyone in His day knew something of the subject.
Is it a great leap to make that He also connected Himself
with the fruit of the earth? With harvest?
With life-giving, life sustaining, food and drink?
With saving us from spiritual starvation?
If that connection is only for me to make in order to strengthen my faith in Him, to take me deeper into our relationship, to tell me more of the story I long to know more about, or to give me insight into something so sacred that I scarcely can digest it, Then so be it. You, dear reader, can make of it what you will. If it doesn’t do anything for you; if it sounds wrong, leave it.
But here’s the thing: I maintain that Jesus not only connected Himself to The Bread and The Cup, But also to the wheat and the grape. Rich and ripe, He stood like a sturdy stalk of wheat before a terrible threshing, and He hung like a beautiful cluster of grapes before a horrible crushing. He stood and He hung there between Heaven and earth, between us and oblivion, between us and eternity,
to intentionally endure the torture of threshing, and the horrible crushing pain – for us, dear reader. . . The first and best fruit of the earth, until the harvest was finished. He made Himself our everything, even our spiritual food and drink. Essential, lifesaving, sacred, and beautiful.
The Lord’s Supper. The Lord’s Harvest. Absolute Genius! Absolute Jesus!
I’m not thrilled about the word Christmas. I’m not crazy about the word Easter either. But I very much love the events those two words represent.
Words are only symbols that we use to convey, or identify, things, events, or ideas. Often, the words we devise (or, in this case, that are devised for us) are less than ideal, or appropriate, or even accurately descriptive in representing the actual thing being described.
I believe that “Christmas” is such a word. I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to delve into the origins, meanings, and protests concerning the word “Christmas”. I have been through it, and it’s not pretty. Some say it’s downright blasphemy, wickedness, and sin to use it.
However, Nevertheless, and, Be That As It May, the event that has come to be known to us as “Christmas” is the event that shook the earth. It is the truth of the event that is important, not necessarily the word we have adopted to describe it. To my way of thinking, the birth of Jesus was, and is, the most momentous occurrence in history. It is to be celebrated – its story told and retold in truth to the ends of the earth. So ( Blast semantics!) I do say Merry Christmas, and I do say Happy Easter, instead of Happy Resurrection Sunday, because I know I will be understood by the general public, and also by Christians, in general. And by those greetings, I mean Hallelujah! Rejoice! Celebrate enthusiastically! For, unto us a child is born! Our Savior lives! He has come to live with us! – Or He is risen! Our Savior lives! And in His glory He will come down again!
So, here’s the thing – here’s my point: Instead of the term “Christmas”, I prefer the word “Christbirth” (which I think I have invented, haha,) (but someone may have beaten me to it, I really don’t know) to represent this wondrous, marvelous event, but, no matter what word we use in reference, in Jesus’ birth, the very Word of God came to live among us, with us, and, in time, in us, so that we, despite our inclination to sin, might have the right to be “born” into a new world – a world of saving grace, faith, hope, and of love, into God’s presence; born in a new, a wondrous, a marvelous, and a miraculous way, Just as Jesus was, before us!
He was born in an obscure village,
the child of a peasant woman.
He grew up in another obscure village,
where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty,
and then for three years He was an itinerant preacher.
He never wrote a book.
He never held an office.
He never had a family or owned a home.
He never went to college.
He never visited a metropolis.
He never traveled more than two hundred miles
from the place where He was born.
He never did any of the things that usually accompany greatness.
He had no credentials but Himself.
In His early thirties, the tide of public opinion turned against Him. His friends ran away. One of them denied Him. Another betrayed Him. He was turned over to His enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While He was dying, His executioners gambled for His clothing,
the only property He had on earth. When he was dead, He was taken down
and laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend. More than twenty wide centuries have come and gone,
yet today He remains the central figure of the human race,
and the leader of mankind’s progress. I am well within the mark when I say
that all the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that ever were built, and all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of mankind
upon this earth as significantly as has that One Solitary Life.
Yes, dear reader, Unlike many men, especially “old-school” men such as myself, I’m capable of planning and cooking a full-blown turkey-and-stuffing anchored; mashed potato filled; gravy-slathered; two vegetable enhanced; candied sweet ‘tater and green bean casserole complimented; cranberry sauce enlivened; dinner-roll augmented; and pie-crowned Thanksgiving dinner. I don’t want that to sound like bragging, nor self-exaltation, it’s just the truth. It’s a blessing that I can cook almost anything, and even do a little baking, but the blessing came at the expense of my mother’s suffering. When I was 13, my mother dislocated her elbow due to a fall. That very painful injury prevented her from doing many of her homemaking duties including cooking the daily family meals. As the eldest child, I was appointed cook’s assistant. I performed the mechanical operations of cooking while poor plaster-casted Mom directed me. That was one of my life’s momentous turning points, because I have used those cooking skills that she taught me countless times for my own benefit and for the benefit of others. Today, Mom is on my mind. Thanks, Mom, for teaching me to cook and for everything else you did for me. Thanks, God, for Mom, and for all my blessings. Thanks for the ability to imagine and invent things, and for the ability to make, and build, and create the things I imagined – everything from small tools to buildings, and a home, and thanks for the ability to repair, or at least “rig up” almost anything. Thanks, God, for the ability to grow food on Your land. Most of all thanks, Lord for the very surprising gift of the ability to write. As much as I like to cook, I’d rather write about cooking. I’d rather write than do almost anything else. As for Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that this website is partial fulfillment of my God-given purpose. More than anything else, I’m thankful to You, Lord, for gathering me to Yourself, and for giving me the joy of salvation – the joy of knowing You!
“O, give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good! His loving mercies endure forever! O, give constant thanks unto the Lord!”
To my friend who does not yet hear The Music,
Who does not yet believe it exists.
Who cannot fathom dancing with our Creator:
I used to be deaf to The Music, the special kind of music between The Creator and His creation.
It is said that those who dance are considered insane by someone who doesn’t hear the music.
Like many older men and women who thought they had heard it all and were comfortable in their ignorance, unaware of their deafness, I began to hear The Music. I had joined the community of the blessed.
At first a faint melody, but with time it became clearer, enjoyably compelling, and then it began to move my limbs, one at a time; then, my soul. At first a happy flute solo, and with time, a rich, full symphony.
It was a lot like not being able to hear it when a person blows a dog whistle, but you can clearly see that a dog hears it, because you can see the dog’s reaction when it is blown. Thus, you begin to understand the “insane” people. They obviously hear something you don’t and are reacting naturally to it. They are not insane. Their confident dancing arises out of the irresistible music that moves them, and they beckon you to join them.
To those who are perishing, it is foolishness, but for those who hear it, it is life.
Knowing God, and having a relationship with Him is like that. It is a music that only believers in Him can hear and understand. What complete and utter joy there is in dancing to that incomparable Music!
It is not beyond you to hear it. I believe our Maker places the ability to hear Himself in every person. And not only the ability, but an innate inner longing to hear it. Many ignore it. In many it has been buried deep under the rubble of hurt. Many deny it, or shun it, or slander it, but His Music persists all around us and it is definitely there to be heard.
My hope; my prayer, is that sooner or later you will listen for it, and will hear it, whether it begins faintly or thunders suddenly. Better sooner than later, better later than never, because dancing for Him; with Him, is nothing less than life itself; it is everlasting life!
I implore you, listen for it! Take a leap of faith. Begin to trust. Let yourself hear and believe.
You might begin to hear The Music in a voice, a birdsong, a waterfall, an orchestra, in wind chimes, or simply as a compelling inner tune that your soul cannot deny. You might hear it surrounded by the silence following a heavy snowfall, or alone in a meadow, or on a mountaintop. If you be still and listen past your own noise, you will hear it just as I did.
Just as I still do, and will always.
I like being one of the “insane dancers”. I have never been so grateful for anything, as I have for the gift of hearing His Music and following it to Him Who has an unconditional love for me. I would like it much better if everyone would tune their ear, and turn their ear, to that incredible Music, and begin The Dance of Life.
O Lord, let me always be ready with a megaphone, a personal sound system, an instrument, a singing voice. Let me always be an amplifier, a ” hearing-aid” for Your song!
My friend, once you’ve heard the purity; the truth, in its melody; the love and peace in its harmony, you will know what I mean, you will join us, and your heart will begin its own joyful dance.
It is voting day. The final, official day of voting in this election cycle ending two weeks of early voting. It occurred to me what a good thing early voting is, when I realized that many voters will be prevented from voting today for various reasons; icy roads, snowstorms, tornadoes, floods, sudden illness, accidents, any number of disasters up to and including death. I voted early in order to circumvent those impediments to my vote.
There is another vote to consider. A much higher vote. I early-voted several years ago on this one. If you haven’t yet, I ask you to cast your ballot, cast your lot with the ultimate candidate. Everything is at stake in his election. He is the only one who can save our country. He is the only one who can save your life and the lives of your friends and family. He offers everlasting life in place of eternal death. He loves every single soul, even those who slander Him, and vote against Him! He is the only one who can and will keep every promise He makes. He is the only one who will be with you through every trial, every disaster, every sorrow and loss. His laws are always fair and just. He is Christ Jesus. His title is Chosen One, and in Hisname can be found the names Deliverer, Rescuer, Saver and Redeemer of People. He has been called Wonderful. Counselor. Almighty God, and Everlasting Father. He is running for the position of Leader of Your Life.
So, cast your lot with Him now. Early-vote before something unexpected makes it too late. His polls are always open. He doesn’t want to lose a single soul to death. Vote for unconditional love. Vote for peace. Vote for salvation and redemption. Cast your lot with Jesus.
Sometimes, I sit alone in pity for myself, but, all the while, the breath of God wafts me across the great, vast, universe.
I forget how His favor bathes my life with beautiful wonders and how He shows me great mercy.
I forget that I am never forgotten, always loved, never alone.
Sometimes I forget, in lonely sorrow for myself, that the Creator’s hand has carried me, in caring pity, in sympathy, across majestic mountains, past lakes of stars, and high up, into peace, into the moon-washed Valley of Sparkling Waters where He has shown me my final – and eternal – campsite.
Sometimes I sit in pity for myself While my self is away with the Great Father, dancing with unfettered joy.
There came one of those shining moments when one of my writer friends commented: “Absolutely beautiful. How did you come up with this storyline?” My reply was this:
I was only partially responsible for “coming up” with any of the Joy-Flower story; title, middle, or ending!
“It’s difficult to explain God’s mysterious, intense involvement, participation, and presence in the creation of this story, but I’ll try.
One morning I awoke (or did I?) and it was in my heart to write about the subject of a man being angry at God for what he perceived were broken promises and unanswered prayers. It would also turn out to be about a man taking the power of life and death into his own hands.
Then I “heard” Him say the name of the protagonist. I was a little surprised, and had the audacity to question, “Why this unique Asian name? What do I know of that culture, wonderful as it is?”
Nevertheless, I trusted, and soon began to lay out the story. He filled in my blanks. It even took an unexpected turn into other complex subjects.
I fell in love with our two characters, as I was meant to.
It was all done in one sitting, one “take”.
Without The Divine Presence, there could have been no Joy-Flower. The Asian flavor is puzzling, yet I’m confident that Joy-Flower has a purpose far beyond what I can imagine, and that one day He will reveal the whole story behind it. I can hardly wait to find out from Him what comes out of Joy-Flower. Thank you so much for reading it, my friend! Your question made me think in-depth about the creation of this story, which stretched my pen further than I thought it could go in explanation. I needed that!”
Note: Since that day, I have edited, modified, and added further to the story, as prompted by The Spirit. It has become, arguably, my favorite work because of His close involvement, guidance, and Divine input during its writing. If you would like to read the piece click this link right here. If you have read it before, I urge you to try this “new, improved” version.
~ ~ ~
So, if I were pressed to describe writing, from my perspective it seems to be the expression of the heretofore unexpressed, using combinations of words that have not been combined before, with the nearly incomprehensible involvement of our nearly unfathomable, completely infallible, God.
I was thinking this past Father’s Day how blessed I am to be a father.
I have been blessed with three sons, a granddaughter, and a grandson who are each sources of parental joy. Each of those parental relationships is a blessing of the highest order.
Thinking further, I realized that my fatherhood is a key to cultivating insight, empathy, sympathy, and compassion for my contemporary fathers, and of fathers and grandfathers past. I have to nurture patience and forgiveness for those I deem irresponsible fathers. I must go a step farther to hold back their judgement which belongs, ultimately, to the One Father. I must accept the difficult task of emulating His love, kindness, protectiveness, caring, and provision.
In addition, I get the privilege of identifying with, and learning from, the Biblical fathers’ experiences and hard-earned wisdom:
Of Adam, the first human to become a father. Of Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob (called “Isreal”), and Moses. Of Joseph – steadfast father of Jesus in all ways that were of earthly importance. Of Job, a father who lost all his beloved children and, in the end, had the same number “replaced” by Father God. Furthermore, being blessed with grace, ” he saw them and their children into the fourth generation.” Then there is the father of the prodigal son. Only fictional, only metaphorical, only made up. But no! He is a clear picture of our loving Father God Himself, presented by the Holy Son, Himself. He is real! He never stops loving his child. He is filled with unreserved, unconditional joy when the child returns home. And the son is me . . .
The last biblical father I’ll cite is the first. Eternal Father of His eternal Son. Creator and Father of all – Father God Himself.
It occurs to me that, inside the riches of fatherly experience, I am also blessed to be a son. I received that blessing first. I can empathize with other sons as well as other fathers. I have the distinct feeling that my son (each of the three) has always been with me and always will be; an inseparable part, a symbiotic co-entity.
Not every man is destined to become a father, but every man is a son. Not every woman is destined to be a mother, but every one is a daughter. In my mind, motherhood/daughterhood is equal in importance to fatherhood/sonship in His kingdom. Never think that I imply it is anything less.
We may not all be parents, but through the parent/child relationship we can nevertheless experience parenthood from that vertical perspective. Looking up to and looking up at the parent is a good way to understand the parent and thus parenthood. Observing and listening from a lower viewpoint is an advantage. Looking up to, and at, our perfect “parent” in Heaven, our Kingly Father, is a good way to get to know Him, to participate in the great Father – child story, and to take our rightful place as heirs; as princes and princesses, in the Great Kingdom. It is commanded: “Respect your parents so that it will go well with you and your life will be long.” (my paraphrase) This extends, I think, all the way to our Heavenly “Parent”.
I often “see myself” as having been gathered in off the curb and adopted, unconditionally, and without any reservation, as His own child, but more than that, gifted to be reborn – born over again into his family because of the sacrifice of my “big brother”, Jesus. Fractured first birth healed and made right by the second.
I am almost able to imagine what it took for The Father to turn his back on His suffering son. What agony they both suffered! Who could do that besides the First and Second persons of the Holy Trinity? And all for one purpose they deemed worthwhile – to save this father, this son – and all my fellow fathers and sons; mothers and daughters. How many of us would have tried to tell them, “don’t do it, it’s too much, the cost is too high, No! I’m. Not. Worth. It!” ?
Today, I’m glad they thought I was worth it . . . I worship them for it. I bless them with my meager “blessings” as they have abundantly blessed me . . .
I am indeed fortunate and blessed to be a father, as well as a son. My hope is that I have imparted some of the greater meaning of that declaration; some of the grander aspects of the relationship.
Although my participation is partial and very imperfect, participating in The Great Story of Fatherhood and Sonship is a highly meaningful aspect of my life as a believer.
A Good Friday Story;
A Good Anytime Story – The Expense of Safety
The Ferry to Safety was ready to depart.
Freedom, so close! Special admission only???
Hope fading.
Whoever missed the boat was lost.
Completely lost and without hope.
One solitary, stringent ticket stand.
A waiting line far too long.
Serious guards watching.
Last chance.
Distress.
I was in grave danger, But I had not the standing,
Not the requirements,
Not the paperwork, Nor the price of admission. I stood forlorn in fear that
I would always wear these chains, Or be, (oh, so slowly) tortured and killed;
Despair. Then a man stepped up,
Radiating such undisguised love,
Unveiled compassion. He gave me his own precious ticket with a smile.
No hesitation. He paid my price.
Dooming himself with the selfless gesture.
Bewildered, I caught hold of it. And just in time. I stood astonished, Forgetting even to thank him. “Hurry, it departs; It’s your one chance,”
He cried over his shoulder As they cruelly restrained him,
Beat him to the ground, Roughly dragged him,
Torn, and bleeding,
Yet miraculously silent as They pinned him brutally against the ticket stand. His fate I couldn’t know,
Couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to guess . . . In horror and denial,
I watched the scene as I walked backward, And stepped,
Not nearly grateful enough,
Onto the departing boat.
↓
↓
↓ The Rest of the Story
I was in shock. And I was safe. My chains had dropped from me,
into the water, as I stepped onto the ferry.
Relief overwhelmed me. Was this how true freedom felt? After a time, I noticed many others were there. Some were kneeling, some looking upward with bowed heads and raised hands. A woman saw that I was alone. “You are the last.” “Yes . . . . . , I . . .
It’s incredible! A man paid my price!” I was still astonished. “Mine too!” she exclaimed. A man looked up . . . “Mine too!” A child waved; in her hand a ticket: “Me too!” “Me too!” cried a young boy.” A group of teenagers: “Me too!” “Me too!” “And me!” “He paid my fare!” “He gave me his own ticket!” All of us!
People were gathering into one group,
listening to each other.
“I threw my pass away years ago,
but he gave me another today!” said several.
“I lost mine and he gave me a replacement as well.”
“I didn’t deserve one.”
“I was in prison.”
“My neck was in the noose; I was good as dead.”
“He let me off the hook for the terrible things I said about him.”
“He forgave me too!”
“He gave me another chance.”
“He gave me another, and another, and another.”
“He told me it was ‘never too late’,
when he handed me his boarding pass.”
“He looked at me with love.
Nobody ever did that!” “I know he saved my life, and not just once!” “He told me God loves me!” “I heard him forgive those guards.” Yes, even while they did detestable things to Him.
I . . . I think . . . they killed him. “Because of us,” I thought, in sorrow. “Because we couldn’t get our own passes.” “We could never qualify.” “He deserved his ticket more than anyone, yet he gave it to all of us and forfeited his life.” “He loved his life as much as we love ours.” “Who was that poor man?” An elderly lady approached on unsteady legs, holding her ticket toward me in an outstretched hand. Her eyes were filled with tears. “He gave me this. I tried to refuse, but he insisted.
It was all . . . he . . . had. What love he radiated. What love!” she sighed. Her pass was identical to mine. They all were. I looked up at the wheelhouse,
and, to my delight, noticed that the huge watercraft
was named JOY. As the day passed, people began telling their stories. Everyone had a story involving the man we called our hero, our rescuer, our deliverer.
We praised the man with our stories and with singing.
We fasted, partaking only of sweet, cool, water –
The purest we have ever tasted.
In the evening we ate bread and grapes.
All these things were provided from coolers on the deck.
We became conscious of God’s presence and provision.
Those of us who were new to the faith experience were welcomed
into the family of believers and followers of that one man. Because of what he did for us, we all worshiped him;
Because he showed us compassionate love,
We adored him;
Longed to see him again,
If only . . .
The boat seemed to expand in size while more people
came up from below. So many breathing freedom!
Our ongoing rescue continued through the second day, through which we repeated the fast, the worship, the stories, and the evening meal. When would we finally reach the Land of Promised Safety?
We wondered, but with faith and confident hope. The massive boat churned a wake and plowed its way forward,
persevering steadily on course through a third day, as our faith and hope grew. Then, in the cool of the evening of the third day,
we saw land . . . And I, the undeserving;
I, the ingrate;
I, the impatient; I, the selfish;
I, the forgiven;
and I, the thankful-rescued, stood on the foredeck and saw The Man
standing with a grin,
and with open arms,
on the pristine sand of freedom’s shore.
Something happens when you begin to follow Jesus in earnest. I’ve discussed it with a great many people; people of diverse backgrounds and profiles. In differing words, and in a variety of ways, they all agree that something happens!
And that something that happens when you say yes to God is unexpected, has an aura of mystery, is somewhat incomprehensible, is difficult to describe using the limitations of language. Yet, the essence of our dialog, the substance of our stories of coming to faith, the validating assurance of our choice, has a common theme: Something great happens!
When we accept Jesus as our Savior, our almighty God, our risen Lord, we universally perceive something important changing “inside” us. The changes are for our good, for the better; for the best. And we have confidence that they will keep happening in even greater ways.
When our spirit experiences that first encounter; makes that crucial connection with our Living God, something truly, inexplicably, wonderful, happens.
Something beautiful happens! And it doesn’t just happen. He causes it to happen! Out of love! He opens a door. He makes a way. It’s supernaturally personal.
Life walks in. New life! Real life! Joy bursts in. Grace settles in. It is difficult to explain, But do I really have to when literally billions of people have known that something happens?!
![Glorystories: A Gloryteller Compilation by [Lenn Snider]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51Yxi18udDS.jpg)
Alone in the Rockies.
Gloryteller 