YOU and GOD

The late Allegra McBirney—missionary, author, and speaker—said, “Well, Lord, here’s this whole new year ahead, and I know that prospect doesn’t shake You; but for me it’s question marks all the way. Family, health, finances, world peace—You know what a crisis in any of them would do to me. And yet, I’ve been thinking, Lord, that looking at the new year with question marks is really looking at You with them. Right? That’s not trusting. Forgive me Lord. I have this request: Please, this year turn my question marks into periods—into certainties…settled conviction. Faith with finality. On second thought, Lord, turn them into exclamation points! Into certainties with excitement! That’s it, Lord!”

And, so, with McBirney’s thought in mind, I offer the following counsel for all of us as we “ring in” a new year, Lord willing, in a couple of days:

(1) Remember the Permanent

• The top of my list of that which is permanent is the Word of God (Matt. 24:35). Jesus reminded His disciples in His Olivet Discourse that “Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” It has been burned, banned, and blasphemed, but it still stands and always will.
• The everlasting gospel. It will be preached on the earth and in the heavens. It is indestructible and undeniable: “And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach to them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people.” (Rev. 14:6)
• The Lord Jesus Christ—“the same yesterday, and today, and forever.” (Hebs. 13:8)
• He that doeth the will of God abideth forever. (I John 2:17)

“Today, dear friends, we stand upon the verge of the unknown. There lies before us the new year and we are going forth to possess it. Who can tell what we shall find? What new experiences, what changes shall come, what new needs shall arise? All our supply is to come from the Lord. Here are springs that shall never dry; here are fountains and streams that shall never be cut off. Here, anxious one, is the gracious pledge of the Heavenly Father. If He be the source of our mercies they can never fail us. No heat, no drought can parch that river, ‘the streams whereof make glad the city of God.’ We cannot tell that loss and sorrow and trial are doing. Trust only. The Father comes near to take our hand and lead us on our way today. It shall be a good, a blessed new year!” (Lettie Cowman, Streams in the Desert)

(2) Realize the Passing

“The world passeth away and the lusts thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever.” (I John 2:17) The judicial, cultural, religious, educational, social, and political orders of the age are passing and will fully pass away.

Time—with clocks, calendars, decades, and millennia—will one day be no more. (Rev. 10:5,6)

Death, sorrow, crying, pain will pass with the passing of the last age of “time.” (Rev. 21:4)

Heaven and earth (the first) will one day “perish…yea all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed.” (Ps. 102:25-27)

It is well, therefore, that we realize that each of us was put on this earth for a purpose—we were not ‘just born.’ If we can each find this purpose and work toward the fulfillment of it, then we have taken the first steps on the road to happiness and success (James 1:5; Eph. 5:17) (Capital Voice, Feb. 1983)

(3) Rejoice in the Prospect (it’s never been brighter!)—Rev. 21:5

The old covenant replaced by the new covenant, Jer.31:33
Once the first Adam—then the Last Adam, I Cor. 15:21-24
Now still the Old Nature and the New Nature; then only the New Nature, I John 3:2
Now the Old Jerusalem, then the New Jerusalem, Rev. 21:1
Now the old heaven and earth, then the new Heaven and new earth
Now the earthly house of this our tabernacle; then a building of God not made with hands, eternal in the heavens! (II Cor. 5:1; Phil.3:21)

We are, therefore, not looking back, but forward; not around, but up, not preparing for here but for there!

“I do not know, I cannot see what God’s kind hand prepares for me. Nor can my glance pierce through the haze which covers all my future ways. But yet I know that o’er it all rules He who notes the sparrow’s fall. Farewell, old year, with goodness crowned, a hand divine hath set my bound. Welcome the New Year, which shall bring fresh blessings from my God and King.” (unknown)

“Blessed be the God, and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places…to the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the beloved.” (Eph. 1:3,6)

Blessed season, sights and sounds!
Children playing all around;
Hear their laughter, feel their joy,
Graces truly do abound.

Mark the precious Savior’s birth,
Sing with pleasure, sing with mirth.
Tell to every girl and boy,
Of His coming to this earth.

Tell His story, far and near;
Tell it without qualm or fear.
With your hearts, your tongues employ,
Season’s greetings—and good cheer!

Shout that Christ the Lord was born;
On that sacred Christmas morn.
Say the Babe grew as a boy,
His presence angels did adorn.

Sing His praises night and day,
Sing glad anthems all the way;
All God’s people will enjoy,
At His name they’ll bow and pray.

Worship Christ as Lord and King,
Worship Him in everything!
You the Devil will annoy,
When your gifts to Christ you bring.

Yet we worship, yet we fall;
In His presence—He is all.
He our praises will enjoy,
While we humbly on Him call.

Our hearts are fixed; our minds are clear.
Our Christ to each of us is dear.
Our love is pure, there’s no alloy,
We trust in Him without a fear.

So Christmas Day will come once more;
Our Lord and Savior we’ll adore;
The Christmas rush will not annoy
For He is knocking at our door.

He came once—He’ll come again!
Let us watch and work ‘till then;
We’ll serve Him with hearts of joy,
Until He calls us Home to Him.

~Anthony Slutz

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)

Ellen joins me in wishing all of our “You and God” readers a joy-filled Christmas—and, of course, a blessed New Year.

There will not be a blog posted on Thursday this week as it is Christmas Day! Again, we wish you all of His best!

When I was a young ministerial student, Noel Smith was editor of the Baptist Bible Tribune, the publication he founded in 1950. Anyone who reads this and attended Baptist Bible College of Springfield, MO, in the 1950s or ‘60s will recognize Smith’s name. His pen was powerful; it could also be sublime, as his following reflections on Christmas will demonstrate:

“An infant named Jesus was born more than 1900 years ago in the days of Caesar Augustus. No responsible person doubts it—not Jews, Unitarians, Muslims, etc. The historical evidence is there to prove it. Time dates from before or after this infant’s birth. The Greeks were going to date time from the Olympics, the Romans were going to date time from the founding of Rome, the French were going to date time from the Revolution. All of these failed and most never heard of their efforts. Time dates from before or after the birth of Jesus Christ. If this was all you knew about Jesus, you would know enough to stir any reasonable man’s imagination to know why.

Jesus is the only universal character the world has ever known. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses are Jewish. Paul was more universal than any but Jesus, but he was no son of man. Gladstone, Lloyd George and Churchill were Englishmen. Abraham Lincoln was an Americn. Americans are closer to Jesus than they are to Lincoln. The English are closer to Jesus than to Churchill. Why?

Jesus stood before the physically, morally, and spiritually sick of this world and said, ‘Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ No other man outside of an insane asylum ever said a thing like that and made such an invitation. Why? Think about it.”

Here is another favorite Christmas meditation of mine, attributed to Keith L. Brooks, founder of The American Prophetic League of Los Angeles and author of many books:

“Jesus Christ was born in the poorest of circumstances, but the air above was filled with hallelujahs of the heavenly host. His lodging was a cattle pen, but a star drew distinguished visitors from afar to do Him homage and present Him with rich gifts.

His birth was contrary to the laws of life. His death was contrary to the laws of death. No miracle is so inexplicable as His life and teaching.

He had no cornfields or fisheries, but He could spread a table for 5,000 and have bread and fish to spare. He walked on the waters and they supported Him.

His crucifixion was the crime of crimes, but, on God’s side, no lower price than His infinite agony could have made possible our redemption. When He died, few men mourned; but a black crepe was hung over the sun. Though men trembled not for their sins, the earth beneath shook under the load. All nature honored Him; sinners alone rejected Him.

He preached His Gospel for only three and one-half years. He wrote no book, built no church, had no money back of Him. After 1900 years He is the one central character of human history, the perpetual theme of all preaching, the pivot around which the events of the ages revolve, the only Regenerator of the sinful human race. What thinking man can keep from exclaiming, ‘My Lord and my God!’”

“And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call His name Jesus: for He shall save His people from their sins.” (Matt. 1:21)

Right now, a lot of serious thought is being given to “what gift shall I get for ______?” It is fun to buy just “the perfect gift” for a loved one or friend, a gift that you are sure will please that special person; and never is it more exciting than at Christmas when, because of God’s gift to us—the unspeakable gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord—we as believers enjoy with heartfelt pleasure, in the spirit of Christ, the exchanging of gifts with family and friends.

But the gift that I have in mind—and have been thinking about lately—is not a Christmas gift; in fact, it is in no way a material gift or gift that any one of us can give to another. But it is a gift that—if you are a follower of Christ—you have received from the Holy Spirit, a gift of which Paul speaks when he said that He “gave gifts unto men,” and of which Peter wrote when he penned: “As every man hath received the (a) gift….” (Eph. 4:8; I Pet. 4:10) I am speaking of the gift that you received at the time of your salvation. It is commonly called a “spiritual gift,” and Paul said in I Cor. 12—speaking of the gifts the Holy Spirit gives—that He “divides to every man severally as He will.” (I Cor. 12:11)

Paul wrote more about spiritual gifts to the church that He founded on his second missionary trip, the Corinthian church, than to any other church. (I Cor. 12-14). He began his first epistle to this church that he called “carnal” by reminding them that “ye come behind in no gift.” (I Cor. 1:7) It seems contradictory, to be sure, that the Corinthian assembly was a body of gifted individuals. Yet Paul lamented that he could not speak to them “as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ.” (I Cor. 3:1)

One can be a (spiritually) gifted person, then, but also carnal. God, by His Spirit, has gifted for service every follower of His. This is not to be confused with an individual being talented or naturally skilled. Spiritual gifts are not to be confused with natural abilities or talents. Gifts of the Spirit are given by the Spirit for service to and in the Body of Christ. The purpose of these gifts is “for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the Body of Christ.” (Eph. 4:12) Some of the gifts are listed in this Ephesian passage: apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers.” (Eph. 4:11) Other spiritual gifts are enumerated in Romans 12:6-8. That passage lists the gifts of prophecy, ministering, teaching, exhortation, giving, administration, and mercy.

There are other gifts mentioned also. Interestingly, some of the gifts were “sign” gifts, given temporarily to the Apostles, especially for the Jews in the transitional time of the infant church—from a solely Jewish body, to a Jew-Gentile body, to a body in which there was neither Jew nor Gentile. Paul said that the “Jews required a sign” (I Cor. 1:22), and he spoke of the signs of the Apostles that had been “wrought” among them in wonders and mighty deeds. (II Cor. 12:12) There would come a time when the need for these extraordinary manifestations of God’s power would cease (I Cor. 13:8), but there would never come a time when the need for the “service” gifts would cease.

And, friend, that is true at the present hour. If you are saved, you have been saved to serve. Not only that, you have been divinely equipped by the Holy Spirit to serve in the Body of Christ. So, what is your gift? Exhortation, administration, giving, teaching, helps? To not use a gift given by God specifically for use in the building of His Body, the Church, would be a grave disservice to the cause of His kingdom. 

So, what is your gift? How are you using it today in the edifying of His Body, the Church?

“Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, whether prophecy…or ministry…or teaching, or exhortation, or giving, or ruling, or he that sheweth mercy, with cheerfulness.” (Romans 12:6-8)

In the fulness of time, the Bible says, God sent forth His Son.

Solomon says there is a season and a time for everything. We can rejoice, as we look another “Christmas” in the face, that there was a perfect time for the sending of His only begotten Son, a unique birthing by His Holy Spirit through a young Judean virgin named Mary!

The time then was surely “full.” Humanity was engulfed in spiritual darkness. Sin had wrought its painful effects universally on Adam’s descendants. Never, since the original first couple were banished from Eden’s garden, had there been a time in history that was more ready than that night of nights when angels heralded His marvelous, miraculous birth in Bethlehem. It was ripe for the coming of God’s solution for man’s sin. 

Hopelessness ruled. Tyrants made helplessness seem inevitable. Religion wore the face of hypocrisy. The dark world of demonic activity had never enjoyed such ubiquitous renown. But then, in the “fulness” of time, God moved, Heaven opened up, and Hell screamed in horror—when God sent forth His Son.

Oh, glorious revelation! John, in his eye-witness gospel account, simply said, “Behold, the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world!”

He came in the fulness of time, and in the only right way He could have come—that is, made of a woman. Not made of a man, for that would not have sufficed for sin; and, not made of a man and a woman, for that would have qualified Him as one of us, a sinner. But, made of a woman, with blood untainted, spotless and pure, with no curse of sin upon it through the virgin birth; thus, He alone qualified to be the substitutionary sacrificial Lamb of God offered on Calvary for the atonement of the sins of the world!

It was indeed the turning point of all history. He came. He died. He rose again and ascended back to Heaven from whence He came; but, before He returned to Heaven, He promised that He would come back again!

And, we who believe Him are excited about another Christmas and the prospect of the 2^nd Advent of Jesus to this earth!  His first Advent was the turning point of all history; His 2^nd Advent will mark the climax of all history. Coming then at Bethlehem, He was humiliated; coming again to Jerusalem, He will be exalted. And every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord!

And, it will not be too late. The world is once again “ripe” for His coming. There is indeed a time and there is a season for everything under the sun. May this Christmas be a season for each of us to remember that Holy night when shepherds saw His star. But may it also be a season when we continue to keep an eye on the clouds, as it were, and an ear for the Trumpet and for the voice heard universally—inviting us to “Come Up Hither!”

“Some day the silver cord will break, and I no more as now shall sing; But, O, the joy when I shall wake, within the palace of the King! And I shall see Him face to face, and tell the story—saved by grace; And I shall see Him face to face, and tell the story saved by grace.” (Fanny Crosby)

“He which testifieth these things saith, “Surely, I come quickly.” Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.” (Rev. 22:20,21)

She had a sort of contorted smile, but the youngins did not realize why. She was a wheelchair bound woman, probably in her 60’s, when their mom became a friend of hers and began to interact with Mrs. Land. All the girl and her brother knew was that they did not like her stories about her own children. She would weave together some words, hard to understand at times because of her speech impairment, about some experiences she had rearing her own little ones, from the handicap position of a wheel-chair. What really turned their hearts away from this lady—who attended their church and worshipped with their church family every Lord’s Day—was when she explained her form of discipline when a child had transgressed the law she had laid down for her household.  She did not have the advantage of other mothers who would go to get a belt or a stick off the lilac bush with which to give the disobedient kids a whack or two. So she did the only thing she could do; she demanded they kneel before her wheel-chair and then, when they were perfectly in place, she would, in her words, grab a fist-full of the woeful and wayward one’s hair and give it a brisk yank or two. Then, having spun her reminiscing yarn, she would chuckle about it with a contorted grin, looking intently as the two children looked on with horror.

Now, they had never heard of child abuse back in those “pre-enlightenment” days. The sister and brother had never had many meetings with the belt or stick and, for sure, never as many as they might have had. But when they heard of how those hapless little devils—children of this woman who hailed from California before she intruded into our quiet Midwestern world—they were horrified. There were a few nights when they actually thought they could hear her creaky voice outside their upstairs bedroom door, saying, “Come kneel down now; let’s get this over with.” Then, if they listened intently in what must have been their nightmare, they could hear that warped chuckle of delight coming from the little old lady, who could not walk but could rule her household from a mobile chair.

When she was not sharing part of a day with their family from her choice corner of the living room, she was engaged in long telephone conversations with their mom; and, usually, it was when they thought they needed mother to answer a question or to help find something or give us permission to visit a friend’s house for an hour before supper. Well, Cakie and “Tonk” (as he was affectionately known) only thought they needed Mom, because whatever dear old Mrs. Land was talking about—Mom hardly ever said anything–was far more important than the attention they thought they needed at that time.

So it was for a couple of years. Finally, Tonk got his driver’s permit and then his driver’s license and boy did he think he was the “cat’s meow!” He actually got to drive an old 1948 Buick (think black Sherman Tank) to school. When it snowed that old Buick could make a path up the hills to the high school for the city’s snow plows.

But, not only that. The best thing was that Tonk could now drive to church and pick up the wheelchair bound Mrs. Land! Well, in spite of the night visions of horror, Tonk could think of nothing he would rather do than to give Mrs. Land a ride to church, not now in the Sherman Tank but in the ’52 Studebaker that he was able to drive on occasion, since the family car by that time was a more spacious Chevy.

And, it just so happened that the church was having a special Christmas program about this time, with cookies and Kool-Aid and maybe some cakes and pies, in the Fellowship Hall following the program. Mrs. Land, of course, wanted to attend and even planned to bring a pie, but she would need a ride. No problem! Tonk’s mother volunteered the to-your-door teenager who would pick her up at the usual time.

The special night came, and Tonk, in the bright yellow Studebaker, drove into the driveway as usual and parked parallel with the door at the back of the huge, two-story, north-side house in which Mrs. Land lived in an apartment. The youthful chauffeur promptly put the car in park, went directly to the back door of the “mansion” and, upon opening the door, took his place behind the waiting woman’s chair; whereupon he carefully helped her into the car’s front-passenger seat, shut the door, and placed the now-empty wheelchair into the trunk of the car. So far, so good. And, yes, he had taken the delicious-looking pie (Tonk had never laid his eyes on any piece of pie anywhere that did not look delicious) into the back seat on the floor, making sure that the pie would not slip or slide en route to the church.

What an exciting evening. Going to church to enjoy a special Christmas program with the music of angels ringing in our anticipation-laden hearts and with thoughts dancing in our heads, between stanzas, of Christmas cookies, cakes and pies, and fun and fellowship with the church family that we loved.

They were almost there—just another stop sign and a routine corner to turn and then straight to church. But wait. After Tonk had stopped and was making the “routine” turn at the corner, the front-passenger door, which had not closed securely when the precious human cargo had been loaded, flew open and the dear cripple, with a screech of a scream, fell out of the car onto the pavement. Tonk quickly stopped and, horror-stricken, ran to the passenger side of the car, used every muscle in his young body that he could muster, and pulled the helpless passenger up and back into the car. Was she all right? Yes! Any broken bones? No! Just a bit shaken and disheveled, but nothing more than her pride was wounded. And Tonk? Well, he didn’t say an audible word the rest of the way to church after he had profusely apologized to the woman he had for so long looked upon with a twitch of disdain.

The program was splendid, everyone said, as was the time of fellowship and feasting afterwards. But that night, that teen-age boy could only repeat silent prayers of praise to His God for allowing that lady—fellow believer, friend of his mother—to fall out of the car and yet be retrieved whole, unharmed, and just thankful to attend the special Christmas program.

It was a special Christmas that year, with a gift from God to a young man whose heart was changed and whose mind was humbled in a way that no one could ever have anticipated. The gift? Oh, something that could never have come under a tree, but from the heart of God to the heart of a teenager who needed to see every person made of God as a special creation to be respected and treated and looked upon with kindness and with love—as all of us, each with our own sometimes unlovely and unlovable ways, are and appear to others to be.

That certain Sunday night just before Christmas, a lad named Tonk put his head upon his pillow and there were no nightmares, no voices outside the door of his bedroom, no screaming, no screechy laugh. Just a grateful heart to God for His protective grace and a thought of a special child of His whose life God had used to teach this young man a lesson that he would never forget, at least not for the next 60 or so years.

“That there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for the other.” (I Cor. 12:25)

This is a lightly edited version of a story that first appeared on You and God in December 2021. It is fiction based on fact. Names have been changed to protect the guilty!

Christmas always ignites vivid memories of Christmases past, so my mind is in memory mode as we fast approach another Christmas Day.

One Christmas that was unforgettable to a six-year-old boy was when my parents decided I needed a doll for Christmas! You read that right, a doll! I am not sure why I was so lucky. Maybe since I had three sisters, they were just in the doll-buying mood. But, for whatever reason, I did receive a doll. Not just an ordinary doll. This one was a cowboy in complete cowboy dress, with a red bandana around his neck. He had neat, wavy hair combed back, and he was not too much shorter than I was at the age of six. In my childish mind, he was the real thing. We spent many  good hours around lonely campfires, and the cattle runs that we accompanied each other on were legendary in my mind. I named this boy-doll “Old Joe.” No girl ever loved a doll more than I did this one, and no doll was ever more “used” when he finally found a resting place than Old Joe. He was a faithful friend. We never exchanged cross words with each other, and I seemed to always get the last word in!

Now what would a boy do with a doll? Just about anything he wants to do with a doll, but the main thing that Old Joe and I did was “worship.” I was the preacher, and he was the congregation of one. I fixed up a makeshift pulpit and put some rows of chairs in place, and it seems like Joe always sat on the back row, but he was not too far back for me to make myself heard.

That was my first experience in preaching. I hollered and stomped and pounded the pulpit and got in Joe’s face until we were both worn out. He heard Genesis 1:1 so many times that he could have preached the message backwards, I suppose. I never seemed to get out of Gen.1:1, but it was such a good text then (and I think it still is now). Joe never complained unless it was under his breath.

I don’t know how many decisions Joe made, but I am sure he made every decision possible. He kept a tender heart and was probably the most “responsive hearer” of my preaching ever.

It was inevitable that Joe and I would have to go our separate ways one day. I am not sure what his end was. I’m still preaching—and, until recently, pounding pulpits and hollering—and still trying to drive home some simple truths from profound texts.

So, looking back, I am thankful for that old friend that I received one childhood Christmas. Maybe my parents bought him for me because I had, not too many months before that Christmas, lost my older brother when he drowned while visiting a cousin on a nearby country farm as they were swimming in a creek. At any rate, I enjoyed Joe while he lasted. And, no doubt, he did meet a need in my life at that time.

How the world has changed. The gifts children receive and expect to receive today are mind-boggling. Many of them are electronic. Girls still do receive dolls, and our granddaughters have what is called the “American Girl.” It is a whole major line of doll merchandise, and you can go to a fancy restaurant in downtown Chicago for lunch with your doll. Ellen and Sandy and our granddaughter Ashley did that awhile back and—are you ready for this—old ladies were there with their dolls, sipping tea and chatting. Maybe I should take Joe down there sometime and preach Gen.1:1!*

Thanks for bearing with some memories that go back more than seven decades. What you have read about this unusual Christmas gift is true, including the “worship” sessions. I could not resist some tongue-in-cheek humor to spice up the story a bit. The part about the granddaughters and the American Girl is also true. That happened in the Windy City some 15 years ago. I hope you all will make some lasting memories this coming Christmas.

“Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.” (II Cor. 9:15)

*This post adapted from a “Pastor’s Pen” column that I wrote for the “TRBC Times” in  December, 2010.

Here it comes—ready or not. Christmas, that is. Does it seem possible that it’s that time of the year again, already?  Not that we have not seen Christmas decorations in front of homes here and there, and Christmas merchandise jam-packed onto shelves and in any available space in the retail stores. Christmas 2025 will soon be in the books and we will be facing a brand-new year, Lord willing.

Not too many Christmas seasons ago, Ellen and I were in a local toy store (must have been when some of our grandchildren were still “kids”). You would have thought it was “Black Friday!” Christmas occupied every square inch of the store, a store stocked to the hilt with all sorts of goodies for children.

Well, as we were checking out, a man came up behind us in the checkout line with a cart full of toys. He must have had six or so nice toy trucks, heavy-duty type earth-moving machines, plus lots of other things. His cart was piled high. He laughed and said that he and his wife had only come in to get one thing. She was still somewhere in the store finishing up. We struck up a conversation and learned that he was 78 and had a painting business that all the family worked in—as well as a produce business that he started to help his grandchildren pay for college. We talked about how much of the joy of Christmas was in seeing children delight with toys and gifts. He then said that he had lost a fifty-some year-old son in the past year to cancer, and that Christmas would be difficult for them. We discussed where he attended church (Methodist) and some others things. Then his wife came and led him away to look at something else she had found. He left his place in line willingly and with a big smile on his face.

Well, I left that brief meeting with positive thoughts about what we were doing there in that crowded store on a beautiful, late-fall afternoon. There had been some jarring economic times, and many were hurting financially. But lots of people were getting out early, trying to take advantage of some “good deals” and making sure that, though times were tough, there would be some little ones whose eyes would still light up on Christmas morning, after Luke’s gospel chapter 2 had been read and the Christmas gifts were opened.

The older gentleman, still smarting from the loss of his son to cancer—but with a broad smile on his face as he pushed his overflowing cart through the checkout line—ministered to my heart that Saturday afternoon. Yes, the crowds were almost suffocating, the economy was in the tank, the world was filled with nations at war, and the Senate was about to vote on a 2,000 page healthcare bill that no one could possibly understand. But here was a dear old grandfather out, even before “Black Friday,” getting deals, buying toys for his great-grandchildren, and chuckling with apparent pleasure all the while because, though saddened by his deep loss, there were still some little ones he could bring some joy to once again on Christmas Day. I left that store that day inspired.

Ellen is always that kind of parent and grandparent, too. She plans, she prepares, she prays, and she prioritizes Christmas. She spent many a Christmas without a lot of special memories. Times were hard for her parents, and Christmas was just not a big deal, apart from a special church service and a bag of candy for the children. In my teen years, my mother became convicted over the commercialization of modern Christmases, and our family stopped celebrating the day cold turkey, so to speak. When we married, though, Ellen slowly revived a true, Christ-honoring keeping of Christmas; and, through the years, she has made it a very special day for all, in part by picking just the right gift for each person. I am thankful for this dimension of the holiday that Ellen has recovered for our family. Christmas means loving, family, giving, sharing, blessing—all because of the unspeakable gift and the God-giving that we are the recipients of, by grace, through God’s Son, Jesus Christ.

So, here it comes—ready or not. And we will, God willing, be ready. We will put up some simple decorations. And, on Christmas morning, we will gather around Luke 2 and read the blessed story once again of His humble coming to be born amongst us. And, we will open gifts and share laughter and think about our grandson David, now in Heaven. And, in spite of the wars, the economy, the political chaos, and the fears of an uncertain future here, if this Christmas is like all those of recent years in our house, we’ll go to bed one week before the first day of the New Year with peace ruling in our hearts and laughter ringing in our heads for the joy, love, cheer, and sheer enchantment of another Christmas Day. We wish the same for all of you, our dear readers.

“A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.” (Luke 2:32—The prophet Simeon holding the baby Jesus in the Temple)