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I hope you enjoy today's guest post by a sweet cyber friend, Kristin Bridgman...

As I contemplate taking down the Christmas tree and all the decorations, packing and putting away, I wonder about the New Year and what it holds in store for me. What circumstances will I be a part of? What people will come into and or leave my life? How will the devil try to attack me this year? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not worrying, just pondering.

As I see the packaging boxes in my garage waiting to be filled with Christmas, it’s always a little sad. So, last year I kept one of the golden ornaments out and left it hanging in my entryway all year. It will stay there from now on. Even though the Christmas holiday is coming to an end, the Christmas spirit can go on forever and the glistening of that ornament is just a symbol of that.

Again, don’t get me wrong. I never need a reminder of my Lord. He is with me always, but when those hot, humid months roll around, the feeling of Christmas, good tidings, good cheer, the giving spirit that we feel in December, somehow gets lost by June.

I must not be the only one with these thoughts because of the quotes I found. Here are just a few. . .

“I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.” Charles Dickens

“Christmas is not a time or a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas.” Calvin Coolidge

“Keep your Christmas heart open all the year round.” Jessica Archmint

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.” Charles Dickens.

Christmas is not just a time on the calendar; it is the baby in the manger who came to save mankind. Peace and joy is not just for December but for always if we accept the one who came to offer it.

As I think about the coming New Year, I look at that golden ornament with the light flickering from it and know that the true light of Christmas is within me. So I look forward with anticipation and eagerness to start it, knowing that Christmas is with me always.

Let’s not say farewell to good tidings, Christmas cheer, a giving spirit, peace, and joy. That can be with us for 12 months, year after year.

I have seen people I know along with strangers come together in love and compassion to help the less fortunate this Christmas season. My heart leapt for joy every time I saw a new donation for the homeless and needy children. That is truly a gift; a compassion flowing forth to those who need help, need love spread all over them, need the touch of Christ from another fellow human being. May this keep going on month after month.

And if I ever start to forget, may the Lord use the sparkle of light from my golden ornament to remind me of Christmas, Christ in the every day, of giving, spreading good cheer, feeling joy that only comes from Him, and peace that passes all understanding, reaching out and loving the lovables and the unlovables.

May you all have a bright and shining New Year. And don’t be surprised if you hear me say “Merry Christmas” in June.

~Please visit Kristin's great site Ponderings.

My all-time favorite Christmas movie, well, of all movies, is The Bishop’s Wife. (Not The Preacher’s Wife!) I watch it a couple of times throughout the year.

If you have never watched it, I highly recommend it. Hearing Cary Grant tell the story of David and the lion and then reciting Psalm 23 is wonderful.

If you’ve never watched it, here’s a synopsis of the movie...

Bishop Henry Brougham (David Niven) prays for divine guidance as he is troubled about the building of a large cathedral. The answer to his prayer comes in the form of an angel named Dudley (Cary Grant), initially known only to the bishop.

Everyone, except for Henry, is charmed by the angel, even the non-religious Professor Wutheridge.

Dudley’s mission is not to help with the funding of the cathedral but to guide Henry and the people around him. Henry becomes obsessed with the building to the detriment of his marriage to his neglected, unhappy wife, Julia (Loretta Young).

Dudley persuades the wealthy parishioner Mrs. Hamilton to contribute the needed funds but not to build the cathedral. He helps her decide to give her money to feed and clothe the needy, much to Henry’s displeasure.

As Dudley spends time cheering up Julia, he finds himself becoming strongly attracted to her. Sensing this, Henry becomes jealous and anxious for his unwelcome guest to finish his mission and depart.

After talking to his friend Professor Wutheridge, Henry stands up to Dudley, who realizes his mission of guidance is now complete and promises never to return. He tells Henry that all memory of him will be erased, and on Christmas Eve at midnight, Henry delivers the sermon that he believes he has written.

Since I’m part of Christianwriters.com’s blog chain this month, and the topic is Gift of the Heart, the sermon the bishop gives at the end of the movie instantly popped into my mind.

It goes like this...

“Tonight, I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking.

Once upon a midnight clear, there was a child’s cry, a blazing star hung over a stable, and wise men came with birthday gifts.

We haven’t forgotten that night down the centuries; we celebrate it with stars on the Christmas trees, with the sound of bells, and with gifts. But especially with gifts.

You give me a book; I give you a tie. Aunt Martha has always wanted an orange squeezer, and Uncle Henry could do with a new pipe.

Oh, we forget nobody, adult or child. All the stockings are filled, all, that is, except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up: the stocking for the child born in a manger. It’s His birthday we’re celebrating. Don’t let us ever forget that.

Let us ask ourselves what He would wish for most and then, let each put in his share: lovingkindness, warm hearts, and a stretched-out hand of tolerance. All the shining gifts make peace on earth.”
The Father shared of Himself and sent His Son into the world.

The Lord gave of His heart; what gift of your heart do you give Christ this year?

Do you bring sacrificial gifts to the Christ-child out of your heart’s treasury? Gifts like the purity of holiness? The costly fragrance of continual prayer? A cleansed soul, preserved from eternal death?

Do you offer Him your heart as His manger, as an empty vessel for His resting place? Or is it full of jealousy, envy, hatred, unforgiveness, self-pity, lust, anger, or prejudice?

Do you leave Him no room to “lay down His sweet head”? Have you said, “Sorry, there is no room for You in this inn”?

Give the Babe of the manger the lodging place He deserves. Give Him the gift of your heart.

May your Christmas be blessed with a special touch of the Lord’s presence.



***This is part of Christian Writers. Please visit the great sites in the blog chain listed in the right sidebar.

“My dearest one,

This is the season for giving thanks for the greatest Gift ever given, My One and Only Son, Jesus Christ. In Him is to be found all the gifts of the Spirit. All His gifts are truly yours, if you are truly Mine. You must present yourself as a gift given humbly to Me. This is the great Gift Exchange. Only when your heart is truly given to Me can this exchange be utterly completed.

The Holy Present was first given and made His home in a lowly manger in a barn. The Holy Present is now given to make His home in the hearts of men, but His home still needs to be a humble dwelling place. This Holy Present cannot live in a place where man wants to be the ruler. There can only be one Ruler of each heart.

The Gift was given in order to bring peace into the heart of the recipient, but only when one gives all of oneself back to the Giver can this Gift Exchange take place and peace be found.

Peace came that Holy Night and filled the world with wonder and joy. Its Light not only illuminated the entire sky but it also lit the way for the entire world to be saved, if they would only have eyes to see.

Remember this Christmas, when all the presents are under the tree, that the Greatest Gift of all drew His first breath of life in a manger made from a tree, and drew His last breath of life on a cross made from a tree. So, when you look at your Christmas tree this season, see it as a cradle of love and a display of agony; both held the true Gift, the Gift of Life.

He came into this world as the Gift of Life and gave back that Life as a Gift to all mankind.

Oh, My children, do not miss the true Spirit of Christmas, My Gift to you. Whether you have presents under the tree or not, the True Presence shall be alive in your heart, if you will just receive your True Gift.”

May each of you know the joy of unwrapping the True Gift of Christmas...Jesus!

Today, it is my pleasure to bring you an important post, one from a special cyber-friend, Diana Scimone. She fights diligently for those children who are sold into sex trafficking. She has written a book just for...well...here are Diana’s words from her site...

“Most kids are lured into sex slavery because they don’t know the deceptive tactics of traffickers. Wherever awareness training takes place, the rate of trafficking plummets. There’s just not enough, nor is it available in the languages of most at-risk kids.

The Born to Fly Project is a strategic 4-stage plan to educate kids, parents, and teachers about the dangers of child trafficking—with the ultimate goal of ending it.

Stage 1: Write a children’s book called Born to Fly, an allegory about the world of child trafficking that teaches kids to make wise choices as they pursue their dreams.

Stage 2: Develop a wordless book based on the Born to Fly storyline and distribute it to kids worldwide. Why wordless? So we don’t have to translate it into hundreds of languages—saving thousands of hours and dollars.

Stage 3: Produce a companion curriculum to teach children the important concepts found in the wordless book, and distribute it to schools, community centers, and NGOs worldwide.

Stage 4: Create multimedia awareness materials including posters, fliers, DVDs, web-based games, etc. to supplement and expand on the B2F message.”

And here is her message...

Christmas is all about One special Child. I’d like to tell you about another child—actually 1 million of them. That’s the number of children who are sold into sex trafficking every year. Some of them are just 4 years old. They’re in your city and mine.

I know, this is not your warm, fuzzy 3-weeks-before-Christmas blog post, but it’s a story that must be told. Lynn has written about this subject before here, here, and here, and to help with my organization, The Born2Fly Project, to stop child trafficking.

Most anti-trafficking organizations rescue kids, which of course is needed, but B2F works to cut off the supply line of kids—by reaching kids before the traffickers do. They do it through an awareness and prevention program that they’re testing in 5 countries right now.

To raise funds for this, B2F has published a delightful e-book for children called Born to Fly: The tale of a dream that would not die. Here's a taste...

"Blossom is in big trouble. Her grandfather warned her not to go beyond the village gates. After all, no caterpillar in Twig Valley has ever ventured there and returned to tell.

For centuries the caterpillars of Twig Valley have lived with a Dark Cloud over the land. For as long as anyone can remember, no caterpillar has ever become a butterfly. In fact, no one thinks about being anything more than a bug that crawls in the dust of the ground.

Until Blossom."

Proceeds from ebook sales go to the Born2Fly Project to stop child trafficking. A companion website, www.borntoflybook.com, has games and activities for kids and a free reading guide/curriculum for schools.

You can purchase Born to Fly for Kindle, iPad, Nook, etc. (links are here). (Or download it on the Kindle PC.)

It would be a great Christmas gift for some young child and you’ll be helping to stop child trafficking with every word.

***I pray you will visit and support Diana’s site Born2fly and her blog Diana Scimone.

One of my favorite Christmas stories. Hope you don't mind the traditional rerun...

With the parking lot full, finding a space was almost impossible. Shopper after shopper filed in the store’s front door, list in hand, and most lacking the Christmas spirit.

The lines at the checkout lanes stretched halfway through the store. As angers were on the verge of erupting, loneliness carved a swath through the throng of shoppers, fighting for a place in each line.

“Why don’t they have more checkout lanes open?” complained one shopper.

“I don’t know. This is so depressing,” grumbled another nearby.

Each lane had its share of Grinches and lonely hearts, each moaning over all the congestion. In one lane stood a mother with three small children in tow, all whining and wanting everything in sight.

In the next lane stood another mother with her three little ones, all in a joyous mood. Six year-old Olivia asked her mother, “Mommy, why is everyone so grumpy?”

Lowering her voice so others wouldn’t hear their conversation, Olivia’s mother whispered, “I’m not sure, dear. I think everyone is in a hurry and they don’t know the meaning of Christmas.”

“Don’t they know it’s Jesus’ birthday?”

Trying to shush Olivia, she lowered her voice again, “I guess not. Some people just don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t we tell them?”

“I don’t think this is a very good time, dear.”

“Why not, Mommy? Didn’t you say it’s always time for Jesus?”

“Well, yes, I did, but…”

“Well, let’s tell them.”

Overhearing their conversation, those standing near this family began shifting their weight from one foot to another, uncomfortable as to what they might hear next.

The mother began to silently pray, “Oh, Lord, if You desire others to know it is Your birthday that they’re supposed to be celebrating, then please resolve this situation.”

Olivia bowed her head and thought for a moment. Then, a very soft, little voice began to sweetly sing…

“Away in the manger, no crib for a bed,The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head;The stars in the sky looked down where He lay,The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.”
Silence fell on the checkout lanes. All that could be heard was the whirring of the cash registers. No one said a word.

Then, that sweet little voice began to sing again…

“Joy to the world! The Lord is come;Let earth receive her King;Let ev’ry heart prepare Him room,And heav’n and nature sing,And heav’n and nature sing,And heav’n, and heav’n and nature sing.”
Just as a place was made for baby Jesus to be born so many years ago, a place was made for Him in the checkout lanes. Smiles erupted across the stone-cold faces of the Grinches. Peace swept across the store, carving a swath through the crowd of shoppers and banishing loneliness and the Grinch from the checkout lanes.

As you weave your way in and out of the stores this Christmas season, remember the Reason for the Season…it’s the celebration of Jesus’ birth!

May the blessings of the manger find a place in your heart.

I am happy to bring you another cyber friend today, the author of the site called Blue Cotton Memory. Enjoy...

Unconditional Love = Gives up What One Cherishes Most With a Generosity of Spirit Shown Over 2,000 Years Ago

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16 KJV

This Christmas season, are you willing to love your neighbor enough to give what you cherish most?

What I Cherish:

My Husband
My 5 sons
My motherhoodness
My individuality
My freedom
My Family
My books
My grandmother’s tea-cup
My Christmas Oysters
A card sent when one of my sons was born quoting Dickens, “It is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.”
My marble Chess Set given on my birthday from my sons

But maybe the most important possession I have, would be my Faith in My Father who gave me Salvation, which made me a Daughter of The King (the guy who created the universe), who healed my heart, who saved my son’s life, who has angels encamped about me protecting me, who showed me that He made me - and that I am to Him what the Mona Lisa was to Da Vinci (and that goes for every one of you, too), and that when I cannot find my life plan, He let’s me know He’s got the Plan so I don’t have to worry, and showed me that my heart’s love capacity is not limited to just my household, or those easy to love, and that it’s going to be o.k. when I do not love perfectly as long as I am trying to love unconditionally - all of which would never have been possible if He had not given the world His son!

Is there anyone you love so much, that you would send your children away from your protection so they could save another’s life?

Is Our Father Not Totally Amazing in His Love for Us?

God’s love humbles me when I really try to wrap my mind around it,
and since I cannot successfully wrap my mind around it,
He graciously wraps His love around me!

*I hope you’ll visit Maryleigh’s wonderful site Blue Cotton Memory. You’ll be glad you did!

Advent King in straw-lined splendor,
swaddled gently at mother’s breast,
God incarnate in a pink suit,
not knowing yet His future test.

In the gentle hush of silence,
soothing sounds of cattle lowing,
angel hosts sing Him their praises,
all creation in glory knowing.

Destiny pressing upon His life,
as crossed shadow falls on His face.
The miracle of the manger
now filled with man’s future grace.



I'm over at my friend Susan Panzica's site, Eternity Cafe. Come visit us!

Draw nigh to God...
...in holiness
Draw nigh in repentance, for the forgiveness of sins

Draw near...
...in silent adoration
Draw near in unrestrained awe and praise

Draw close to the Lord...
...to that Intimate Friend
Draw close to the Beloved of your soul

Draw alongside...
...kneeling as a petitioner
Draw alongside as a listener, in deepest affection

Draw closer still to the Babe in the manger...
...listen to the sweet sounds of the Newborn, as a foreshadowing of grievous sobs for a world of sinners
...smell the scent of the timbered cradle, as a harbinger of the distinctive fragrance of a destined, wooden cross
...see the Babe’s tiny hands reaching out, as impending vessels for prophetic iron spikes
...hear the gentle beat of His humble heart, as the antithesis of the future, rhythmic clanking of a metal hammer

Draw near to receive...
...a salvation so freely offered
...the power and strength you are lacking
...the guidance necessary to proceed through life’s events
...the tender touches of love to ease your pain and suffering
...overflowing streams of peace into your tired and hurting soul
...words of comfort and encouragement to soothe your broken heart and wipe away your tears

Draw near...
...in moments of anger
...in moments of praise
Draw near...
...in moments of emergency
...in moments of stillness
Draw near...
...in moments of deep sorrow
...in moments of great joy
Draw near...
...in moments of despair
...in moments of thankfulness

“Something better has been brought to us. It is God’s promise. And by that promise we come near to God.” (Heb. 7:19b Worldwide English) Therefore, “Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.” (Heb. 10:22 NKJV)

“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” (James 4:8 NKJV)

Draw near to the King of heaven and earth! Draw near to sing Happy Birthday!

As darkness swallows up the day, the black-velvet expanse of night displays a bazillion, shimmering constellations.

Shepherds gather around a flickering fire to dispel the evening’s chill, the flames casting a warm glow across their faces, while others keep guard from the watchtower.

Peace and quiet surround them, except for the soothing crackle of the fire.

Their flocks lie still, serene.

The night’s shroud abruptly parts, revealing the radiance of an angel of the Lord. The shepherds fall on their faces, trembling.

The angel assures this cluster of caretakers, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12 NIV)

Heaven then severs the night sky to display more of its glory, unfolding a host of angels, as their voices ring out, “Glory to God in the highest. On earth, peace, goodwill toward men!” (Luke 2:14 NKJV)

Rising to their feet, the shepherds agree, “Come on! Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this wonderful thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” (Luke 2:15 TLB)

One unusual star emblazons the eastern sky; one divinely-appointed beam of light illuminates the way to this heralded wonder.

Weaving their way through those rushing to find a place to stay, those having been summoned here to register for taxation, the shepherds follow the beam of light, seeking the site of this new Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths.

From a chorus of angelic voices to the clamor of the street, a multitude of sounds reaches their ears: the bleating of sheep, the braying of donkeys, the lowing of cattle. Suddenly, the cries of a newborn resonate above all the rest.

Finding their way inside a stable, the shepherds find the Babe of Bethlehem, wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a hayed trough.

The shepherds encounter the Savior of the world. What they sought, they found.

Oh, to know the wonder of that holy night. To follow the Light, to find the Babe of Bethlehem.

Lord, take me to those fields filled with Your glory. Draw back the black curtain of my night and spill out the glory of Your heaven.

Lead me to that humble manger that I may learn to make my heart a humble manger-place for You. Reveal my life’s emptiness and fill it with the same joy of heaven that filled that night’s air. Guide me always by the Light of Your Life.

Give me willing knees to crouch before You in lowly reverence and awe. Give me listening ears to hear the rush of angels’ wings, to hear their glorious hallelujahs and the holiness of their worship.

Oh, that my heart would always be filled with the glory and wonder of that precious night.

Have you encountered the Babe of Bethlehem? Have you sought and found the Savior of the world? I pray your heart will be filled with Bethlehem wonder and glorious worship this Christmas.



~~Today, I'm over at the site of my precious friend Susan Panzica, Eternity Cafe. Please visit us.~~

“Rejoice greatly, O my people!
Shout with joy!
For look-your King is coming!
He is the Righteous One, the Victor!”
(Zech. 9:9 TLB)
Shepherds oversee their flocks in the field.

A blazing star illuminates an ebony sky.

A choir of angels bursts forth to announce a Divine Appearance, proclaiming, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!” (Luke 2:14 NKJV)

The veil of time rips.

The King of heaven bows low, entering earth’s time capsule.
A Child’s cry pervades the cool, night air with new life.
The Babe Jesus...dressed in a suit of humanity...arrives, just as Isaiah prophesied...

“For unto us a Child is born
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of His government and peace
There will be no end.”
(Is. 9:6-7a NKJV)
As Mary exuded to Elizabeth, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.” (Luke 1:46-47 NKJV) Even though my surroundings and circumstances are not what I’d like them to be, my soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices for His coming as a Heavenly Visitor.

Is your soul magnifying the Lord and your spirit rejoicing this season? No matter what the circumstances?

Paul exhorts us, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!” (Phil. 4:4 NKJV)

“Jehovah is King! Let all the earth rejoice!”
(Ps. 97:1 TLB)

~~Hope you enjoy this beautiful O Holy Night from Josh Groban~~



~~This post is part of...

* One Word at a Time Blog Carnival hosted on Peter Pollock's site. Check out the other entries on his site.

* ChristianWriters.com blog tour. Check out the other entries in the sidebar.~~

~~Link to Part 1~~
When the wise men came to Bethlehem, they came bearing gifts, first out of their hearts’ fullness, for they fell down to worship the Christ-child, and then, out of their treasure bags’ fullness of precious things, for they offered gifts of sacrifice.

When the wise men came to Bethlehem, they brought gold, one of the purest and most valuable of all metals. It serves to remind us of that which is of genuine worth and value, as it was lavishly used to cover the articles of the temple and the temple itself. It reminds us, too, of the pure worth and value of Christ, and that He fashions our hearts into the pure gold for His temple, the home of His holiness and pureness.

When the wise men came to Bethlehem, they brought frankincense, a sweet, aromatic perfume, burned as incense, and, among other things, was an ingredient in the anointing oil.

It serves to show us the precious Holy Spirit, anointing us to be in the presence of the Father, as the incense mingles with the sweet-smelling sacrifice of prayer, rises to the throne room and lingers at the Father’s feet.

When the wise men came to Bethlehem, they brought myrrh, a fragrant, costly perfume, used in purification rites and for cleansing, also as an ingredient in the anointing oil, and used for preservation in death.

It represents the costly perfume of Christ as His blood purifies and cleanses us, preserving us in death.

The wise men found their way into Bethlehem and Bethlehem found its way into their hearts.

Have you found Bethlehem?

* Do you bring the sacrificial gifts out of your heart’s treasury to the Christ-child? The purity of holiness? The costly fragrance of continual prayer? A cleansed soul, preserved from eternal death?
* Do you offer Him your heart as His manger, as the vessel of His resting place? Or is it full of jealousy, envy, hatred, unforgiveness, self-pity, lust, anger, or prejudice? Is there any room left for Him to come and “lay down His sweet head”? Have you said, “Sorry, there is no room for You in this inn”?
* Does He plead, “But where will I be born; where will I find My resting place? Your manger is full, full of unforgiveness, full of your own self. I see no room for Me. I’ve been turned away from inn after inn; where do you wish Me to go?”

The only way you will find Bethlehem is when you remember to kneel in worship to the Christ Who loved you so much that He came in a tiny, human form.

And where will Bethlehem find you?

* In the car sitting in snarling traffic, snarling back at it?
* On the way to Grandma’s house, Aunt Sophie’s, or Mom and Dad’s?
* On a plane, or a bus?
* Or perhaps at the mall, rushing to find that last minute gift? Will it really find you there?

How does it come?

* Does it come rolling in as with chariot wheels rumbling?
* Or does it come silently, as with a gentle whisper?
* Does it come in a season, or in a moment, as in the twinkling of an eye?
* Does it come decorated in beautiful wrappings, resting under the tree?
* Or does it come in the sacrifice of your heart’s gift?

Wise men give Christ room to dwell. Will you be a wise man (or woman) this year? Will you visit Bethlehem this Christmas? Will its Visitor visit you? Will Bethlehem come and leave again, finding you not because your heart’s inn is full?

Make room for the Christ-child; make room for the Christ-Man. Give Him the lodging place He deserves. Be as the wise men when they came to Bethlehem: worshiping on bended knee, grateful, and bringing gifts.

“O come all ye faithful…O come ye to Bethlehem…Come and behold Him, born the King of angels! O come, let us adore Him…Christ the Lord!”

When wise, men (and women) come to Bethlehem!

I pray abundant blessings for you and your family, for a Christmas filled with the presence of the Christ-child and the Christ-Man. May you find Bethlehem and may it find you.

I present to you today a story that you may have read. It has been passed around, however, the author is unknown. I love this story. I hope you will, too.

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire their great works of art.

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.

The young man said, “Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you and your love for art.”

The young man held out the package. “I know this isn’t much. I’m not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.”

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting.

The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.

“Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It is a gift.”

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home, he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.

On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. “We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?”

There was silence.

Then, a voice in the back of the room shouted, “We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one!”

But the auctioneer persisted. “Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100? $200?”

Another voice angrily said, “We didn’t come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!”

But still the auctioneer continued. “The son! The son! Who will take the son?”

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. “I’ll give $10 for the painting.” Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.

“We have $10. Who will bid $20?”

“Give it to him for $10. Let’s see the masters,” yelled another from the audience.

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn’t want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel. “Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!”

A man sitting on the second row shouted, “Now let’s get on with the collection!”

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. “I’m sorry. The auction is over.”

“But what about the other paintings?” questioned the man.

“I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal the stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. Therefore, the man who takes the son gets it all!”

God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: “The son, the son, who will take the son?”

Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets it all.
~~~~

God sent His Son to be born in human form. This Christmas, will you offer your heart as His manger? Will you take the Son…and receive it all?

“For God loved the world so much that He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 NLT)

Come along with me and I’ll be your guide for a walk through one night two thousand years ago, a very special night that changed the world…forever.

As you walk along, consider all the things you see, hear, smell, and touch.

First, what do you see?

*As you walk along the trail into Bethlehem, look out over the beautiful fertile hills. Here you’ll see Bethlehem nestled as a quiet little village.

*As darkness begins to swallow up the day, look around quickly. In the surrounding fields, shepherds pasture their flocks. Walk down the dusty streets to enter the little town. You will notice people rushing to find a place to stay; they’ve been summoned here to register for taxation.

*Glance up. The glorious heavens stretch out like a drape of black velvet, poked with holes for the stars to sparkle through like bazillions of twinkling lights, choreographed as a dance of angels with flashlights.

*One divinely-appointed star blazes unusually bright; its brilliance illuminates a lowly stable. Follow the star’s beam to the stable.

As you near the stable, stop to listen!

What do you hear?

*Heavenly songs of praise ascend above the fields, filling the night’s atmosphere with angelic voices.

Now, slowly approach the stable and stand in the entrance. What sounds emanate from within?

*The gentle lowing of the cattle. The bleating of the sheep. The braying of the donkeys.

*Suddenly, the cries of a newborn resonant above all the other sounds.

Step in a ways.

*Listen to the crunch of the straw beneath your feet. Hear the night-time creatures scurry away at your coming. Become aware of the owl hooting his warning of your presence.

Now stop!

What do you smell?

It’s a stable. You know there are odors here! You breathe in the smell of, well, you know.

Okay. What other fragrance is there?

*The aroma of freshly tossed hay.

Step further still into the stable.

*There’s one gentle, sweet smell…that of a newborn baby. The animals gather around to sniff at this strange little wonder now occupying their trough.

A young woman named Mary has just given birth to the Saviour of the world. Swaddling Him lovingly, she placed Him in the trough, and there, the miracle of the manger has taken place.

Join the animals. Lean over the manger.

*Breathe in that precious earthly yet divine scent of an infant.

So, what do you touch?

*Your knees gently lower and rest upon the hay beside the manger.

*You reach out to touch the little, pink fingers protruding from the depths of the manger.

And now…

What do you feel?

As you’ve walked the path to Bethlehem, seen the sights, listened to the sounds, smelled the aromas, and touched the treasures of this night, did it all take your breath away? What do you now feel?

Is your heart now so full that you think it will explode? Look around to make a memory of all you have experienced. Allow them to reside in your heart’s manger. Don’t ever let these images escape your grasp.

May your Christmas be filled with precious memories and a special touch of the Lord’s presence.

COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
by Virelle Kidder

My mother had remarkable zeal for Christmas. Weeks in advance, she would come home from teaching school and bake late into the night. I helped clean the house and decorate the tree while my older brother Roger wired the house with Christmas lights, transforming our humble red house into a place of magical beauty. Following the church candlelight service, a crowd of happy people crunched through the snow to our house for cocoa and cookies.

We were, like many, quite alone in the years after my father left. Our Christmas open house was my mother's supreme effort to make us feel complete. It almost worked.

Despite years in church and Sunday school, God was more a distant relative I wished I knew. I grew up with a gnawing sense of incompleteness, and longed to find meaning and purpose in life. Strangely, it was shortly before Christmas years later that it found me.

My husband Steve was fully absorbed with his new job at Johns Hopkins University, and I was home with a two year old. We wanted friends, but were both hesitant when Steve's officemate his wife invited us to attend their church. We had nothing in common with "religious types," but Steve said, "Let's be nice and go just once."

Sitting in church that Sunday, my temples pounded. Hymns and Scripture verses long ago ignored called to me from my childhood. Could others tell I didn't belong here? Oddly, I felt jealous of their peace. They looked happy.

First thing Monday morning I began tearing through the unpacked boxes in our basement. At last, I found my mildewed Bible from fifth grade. I resolved to read it cover to cover. I opened to Genesis, chapter 1. Same old story; I've heard this a hundred times, and quickly slammed it shut.

No one told me God could hear my thoughts. A soft Voice whispered, Why not read as if it were true? I opened my Bible again. Suddenly I was listening to the most interesting person I had ever heard. By afternoon I was still reading in my pajamas. I couldn't stop.

I read for weeks until one day, a picture popped in my mind of a beautiful old house with wide porches, brightly lit at night. Music, laughter and lively conversation carried onto the porch where I stood in the dark, peeking in. I saw a feast and a fire on the hearth, much like the Christmas open houses from my childhood, with one important difference. There was a Father here whose face mirrored love and warmth at His children's presence. This was God's family, and I desperately wanted to be inside. But how?

A voice taunted, Why would God want you? You don't fit in this crowd! It was true. I considered giving up. Instead, I marched upstairs to our bedroom, knelt down and prayed out loud, "Lord, help me find the way! Please don't let me go!"

Verses I'd read made sense. Jesus said, "I am the Way and the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6)

Our friends explained that God already knew I was a hopeless mess and loved me anyway. Opening the door to Heaven was a gift that cost God everything. It was on the cross Jesus died to pay for my sins. He rose again to prove forever that He is the Truth. Weeping at such love, I knelt and gave Christ my life. I found that, with or without a happy family, no one is ever complete without Jesus.




Virelle Kidder is a conference speaker and the author of six books and numerous articles whose passion is sharing the love of God with women around the world. For her latest books, please visit her at www.virellekidder.com and www.meetmeatthewell.fm

LISTENING FOR CHRISTMAS
by Deb Kalmbach

I used to be the queen of over-commitment, and December brought out the worst in this malady. It was as if I were poised at an imaginary starting line, and when I flipped the calendar page, I was off and running--the December dash!

You could hardly see any white space on my daily planner it was so jammed with events. Kids' Christmas programs, church programs, and endless lists of things-to-do obscured my calendar and my vision to see what really mattered. Each day when we hung another ornament on our Advent tree, I felt my chest tighten, and my breathing get shallower. Only single-digit shopping days left...Panic mode was about to set in.

Of course I was singing in the Christmas choir. I love music, and the heavenly Christmas anthems we sang. The neighborhood cookie exchange was an annual tradition. Forget about the old standards, chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies. Let's talk about jam-filled tea cookies, chocolate-dipped peanut butter balls, or iced sugar cookies with colored sprinkles. My kitchen looked like a Martha Stewart test kitchen gone awry.

My head spins just thinking about it. I usually felt so frustrated and exhausted by Christmas Day, I barely enjoyed the celebration. I repeated this drill for many Christmas seasons, before I finally decided to step back and think about why I was trying to accomplish the impossible. I learned to take a deep breath and accept the fact that I can't do it all-and I'm much better off if I don't try.

That's probably why I'm writing this. The tendency to revert to this frenzied pace by mid-December is still a challenge. I need to be reminded of the quiet simplicity of this season, so I can hear the age-old message once again.

"Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel." Isaiah 7:14

Immanuel! Our God is with us. If we can stop long enough to listen-we will hear the invitation that beckons us to come, to wait, to get ready for our coming King.

No doubt, December will be as busy as ever with gifts to purchase, trees to decorate and carols to sing. But this Advent season, I pray that in the midst of everything contending for our time and attention, our hearts will be moved and our senses sharpened to rejoice in God's greatest gift.




Deb Kalmbach is the co-author of Because I Said Forever: Embracing Hope in a Not-So-Perfect Marriage and the author of a book for children, Corey's Dad Drinks Too Much. Deb and her husband, Randy, make their home in a tiny town in Eastern Washington. Visit Deb at her website or blog.

I'm so happy to be a part of the blog tour 12 Pearls of Christmas, as part of the tour for the Pearl Girls anthology, which is filled with real life stories from some amazing women who have unexpectedly encountered grit and experienced grace through the difficult times.

One hundred percent of the book's royalties go toward building wells in Uganda for school children and to fund a safe house in Chicago for women and children who are fleeing from domestic abuse.

12 Pearls of Christmas: Gifts of Purpose

Too Precious to Wear
by Sarah Sundin

One Christmas when my mother was a girl, she received a string of pearls from her father. Since her parents were divorced-an unusual situation in the 1950s-she treasured the pearls as a sign of her father's love. When he passed away her senior year in high school, the pearls took on even greater significance.

When I was growing up, my mother talked often about the pearls, but my sister and I never saw them. Mom kept them safe in their silk-lined velvet box tucked in her jewelry box. For dressy occasions, she wore other nice jewelry, but never the pearls.

The pearls were too precious to wear.

What if the strand broke and even a single pearl was lost? What if the clasp broke and she lost them forever? She couldn't risk it. Better to keep them cocooned in silky security.

When my mother offered to let me wear her pearls on my wedding day, I was deeply touched. This was more than "something old" or "something borrowed," but a sign that she trusted me and loved me.

A few days before the wedding, my mother pulled the box from seclusion. My sister and I watched with curiosity and awe.

The pearls had turned a deep grayish-yellow, they were flaking, and some had fallen apart.

They were fake.

For over thirty years, my mother nurtured a piece of costume jewelry. All that time she could have worn them and enjoyed them without worry. Her father gave them to her for a purpose-to wear them and feel lovely and ladylike and special. He didn't mean for her to hide them away.

On our wedding day, my husband gave me a strand of real pearls. They symbolize my husband's sacrificial love for me-they were expensive for a graduate student with half-Scottish blood.

I vowed never to tuck them away but to wear them often. Yes, I'm careful. I inspect the cord and knots and clasp, and I plan to have them restrung when necessary. But I wear them and enjoy them. That's why my husband gave them to me.

Our heavenly Father gives us gifts too-brilliant and costly. We should cherish them, but we should use them. Whether our individual gifts involve serving, teaching, encouragement, evangelism, or even money-they have a purpose. The Lord wants us to use our gifts to bless others and to spread the message of His love.

While pearls make women look lovely, using our God-given gifts for His kingdom makes us even lovelier. And just as pearls grow more lustrous with frequent wear, our gifts from God grow in beauty and strength the more we use them.

This Christmas I plan to wear my string of pearls, a sign of my husband's love-and to display my pearls from heaven, a sign of my Father's love.

Have a lustrous Christmas!


Sarah Sundin lives in northern California with her husband and three children. She works on-call as a hospital pharmacist. Her first novel, A Distant Melody, historical fiction set during World War II, will be published by Revell in March 2010. Please visit her at http://www.sarahsundin.com or her blog or find her on Facebook.