Finding Joy
My Christmas recap is a day late. But who cares? It's not like this blog is another of my class assignments, and I have to meet deadlines with each one of my posts. If that were true, I would have flunked out a long time ago.
I had to work at Chick-Fil-A for much of the day on Christmas Eve. I admit, when I first saw myself scheduled, I winced. Like most people, I imagine, work was the last thing I wanted to do on such a special day. I know that I'm a dreadful workaholic and tend to drown myself in my duties to the exclusion of fun and time being spent with friends and family. But I have feet of clay. I'm a slacker. I like to kick back and enjoy myself as much as anyone. Inwardly, I griped and whined about the hand I was dealt. But I decided to look at it this way. I'd be surrounded by eight or nine other people who, just like me, wanted to spend Christmas Eve with their folks. It made it easier to deal with because even though I was away from my family, I didn't feel as alone as I would've felt otherwise. Plus, God had me there for His purpose. People, our customers, the last-minute Christmas shoppers, needed us. No doubt they were feeling the stress of getting those elusive gifts, dealing with frustrating checkout lines, as well as putting up with the crush of holiday traffic jams (yikes!). They needed food. Nourishment. And a friendly smile and warm greeting. Even if all our fryers and bread tables and registers overloaded and maxed themselves to the brink, I hope we did lots of loving. The food and water of the world is only finite. As Jesus told the woman at the well, we will thirst again. But those who receive the love that Christ offers, and sample His food, the bread of life, will be satisfied spiritually. Filled with joy in the powerful name of Jesus. Our Messiah. Emmanuel. God with us.
Suddenly, working the backbar at a mall restaurant takes on a whole new significance. Maybe if I tried to remind myself of the many opportunities God puts out there for me to share His love, I would learn to be more thankful. I'm mindful of this fact every day I'm alive, but on Christmas I'm reminded anew of just how awful a sinner I am. I'm selfish, stubborn, hard-headed, and ignorant about so many things. I know that God loves and cares for me as His own child, and that He loves me because I am David, not because I'm super-spiritual or perfect in works. I can never be any of those things, and He wouldn't want me to be. But when I celebrate the birth of My Savior, who alone was perfect and without fault in every way imaginable, I just want to drop to my knees and weep. He loves me despite my sins, my failures, all the times I've turned my back on Him. He's always been there, just like a shepherd, waiting for his lost sheep to come running back into his arms. I'm amazed he hasn't put a bell on me. "Oh, listen. There's the bell ringing. David must have wandered away from me again but now he's coming back."
Okay, okay, lame attempt at humor, I know.
I'll try to stay on the subject. I worked at CFA until about 7:00 at night. We had a good shift; very hectic, but we made it through. I got a surprise gift from the manager; I'll definitely have to thank him for that. My family headed down to Whitmire for Christmas Eve dinner, gifts, and fireworks with my Mom's family. Yes, we shoot fireworks on Christmas Eve. Don't you? :) They said everyone missed me, but not nearly as much as I missed them. I went home and turned on all the Christmas tree lights and the fireplace gas logs so the house would be nice and bright for our devotional time. I sat up with Izzy, my dog, watching A Christmas Story (a charming movie, by the way) while I waited for them to get home, which they did soon after 9:00. Elves must have come by at some point in the evening, because we found new t-shirts for each of us lying under the tree. Ironically enough, mine, Susannah, and Baxter's were patterned after A Christmas Story, while my Mom and Dad's looked like A Charlie Brown Christmas. Anyway, we gathered for devotionals. Susannah started it by reading The Night Before Christmas as Mom provided visual aides for each line, hehe. Then Baxter read the story of Jesus' birth from Luke 2 in the King James Bible. He's gotten to be a very good reader. After that, I read a document my Dad had picked up from an online resource. It's called "Teach the Children," and yes, it's the same document that I posted here just a few days ago. I loved it the moment I saw it. I love the truths in there. The truths about Santa Claus. The truths about the ornaments and symbols of the Christmas season. The bell. The holly leaf. The candle. Even gifts. They represent much more than the commercialization that our world has heaped upon them. So I was glad to read it.
Then my Dad started talking about Jesus, specifically why He came to Earth the way He did. I have talked about that here, too. It was a meager and humble birth, not the grandiose arrival that everyone was expecting. It was a tiny, helpless baby, not an invincible, conquering ruler. In the company were animals and shepherds, not the high class of society. I'll never fully understand God's plan in the birth happening that way, but I suppose that was the whole point. It's not about our human expectations, our timetables, our predictions. It's about God's divine Will. Letting it happen as God sees fit for it to happen, and trusting in Him to do what is best. We aren't supposed to grasp all the answers, or even understand completely. If we did, God wouldn't be God. He would be grounded to a human understanding, no more than an idol or a manmade figurehead, unworthy of our praise and worship. It's the mysteriousness of God's plan that allows for faith, the first stepping stone of a deep, personal relationship with Him. Faith in something we can't see, comprehend, or physically latch onto. Impossible and absurd by the standards of our secular world. But faith makes all the sense in the world on the terms of our Heavenly Daddy.
After Dad talked, Mom started singing "Silent Night." She loves that song, and she knows I love to harmonize on the lyrics, so I chimed in with her melody. Was it really a silent night; that fateful eve in the manger stable with the Christ-child, Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men? I don't know. The angels in heaven must have been rejoicing, so we know the gates of Paradise were anything but silent. The Bible said Mary treasured up all these things in her heart. She was probably overcome not only with the birth process, but with the significance of what had taken place. Keep in mind, Mary was only a little girl, probably no more than 14 or 16 years old, when she gave birth to the Son of God. It only makes sense that she remained quiet, taking it all in. And I can suppose the shepherds were still basking in the glow of the star of Bethlehem. Still hearing the angel's words comforting their fears, soothing their hearts with God's awesome promise. No doubt they were pretty excited. Maybe the silence had another meaning we don't yet understand. I can't really say anything for certain. But it's still a beautiful song.
My family then prayed the Lord's prayer, followed by personal prayers reflecting on Christmas, its true meaning, and for those in the world who don't know it. I'm so thankful to have hope in Jesus. He's the reason I rejoice; the rock I lean on in times of sadness. I know my Dad was thinking about his Dad, my grandfather, when he prayed. This time next month, it will have been two years since he died from cancer. Losing him was terribly hard for all of us. I could fill page after page of this blog talking about his wisdom, corny humor, comforting voice, and keen ability to understand, but this is getting lengthy enough already. Our hope in God's plan of salvation to all of those who believe on Him is what sustains us, and gives us strength to keep going. We know that we will see Poppy in Heaven one day. It's okay to be sad and miss him while we're here on Earth, but death is not the end. God holds mastery over death itself, and it will one day be banished forever along with sin and suffering. Death in itself is evil and will eventually meet its end, just like Satan. If that isn't a reason to hope in Jesus, then I don't know what is!
I don't usually sleep well on Christmas Eve, and this year was no different. So I just stayed up and listened to all of my church cantatas, singing along (quietly of course) as the Spirit led me. My sibs got up around 5:30, ready to dig in. So we headed downstairs to the Christmas tree for present time. I try to go slow on my presents since I'm the type who likes to savor the moment by actually taking time to look over presents, not unwrapping them, giving them a glance, then tossing them aside for the next one. So I'm usually the last child to get through my lot. My Dad cooked his traditional Christmas breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and smoked ham. I know that he looks forward to that every year, but it's not a good idea to enter the kitchen while he's slaving over the stove. It tends to get pretty smokey. I'm amazed we've never set off the fire alarm in the house. So breakfast was terrific, and at about 10:00, we got all dressed up (a few of us wearing new clothes from the morning) to go to church. Anna Kate sat with us and we had a wonderful service. It blended the traditional and contemporary styles into one package, so we enjoyed singing gospel hymns and swaying back and forth to some rousing modern praise. Randy preached a good sermon, and we celebrated the Lord's Supper. I wish every Christmas could come on Sunday. When I hear things like, "[insert name] Church will be closed this Sunday due to the Christmas holiday" and "Aw, Mom, we have to open presents! Do we have to get all dressed up for church?" my spirit aches with sadness. I wonder if some of these people would treat Easter the same way. I can just imagine it. "[insert name] Church will be closed Sunday due to the Easter Egg Hunt." "Hey Mom! What's Jesus have to do with the Easter Bunny?"
Sigh. I really am getting mauldin in my old age. I'll stop now.
My tardiness aside, I hope you all had a Merry Christmas, and that you found some hint of the true joy that is the Christmas spirit. Remember to look for it in the most unlikely places. After all, I found some in cooking fries and packaging chicken in a greasy backbar this year. Funny how God works like that. Then again, it's just like Him.
Song of the Day: Camp Kirkland - "The Ways of God"
Verse of the Day: "Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor? Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." - Romans 11:33-36
I had to work at Chick-Fil-A for much of the day on Christmas Eve. I admit, when I first saw myself scheduled, I winced. Like most people, I imagine, work was the last thing I wanted to do on such a special day. I know that I'm a dreadful workaholic and tend to drown myself in my duties to the exclusion of fun and time being spent with friends and family. But I have feet of clay. I'm a slacker. I like to kick back and enjoy myself as much as anyone. Inwardly, I griped and whined about the hand I was dealt. But I decided to look at it this way. I'd be surrounded by eight or nine other people who, just like me, wanted to spend Christmas Eve with their folks. It made it easier to deal with because even though I was away from my family, I didn't feel as alone as I would've felt otherwise. Plus, God had me there for His purpose. People, our customers, the last-minute Christmas shoppers, needed us. No doubt they were feeling the stress of getting those elusive gifts, dealing with frustrating checkout lines, as well as putting up with the crush of holiday traffic jams (yikes!). They needed food. Nourishment. And a friendly smile and warm greeting. Even if all our fryers and bread tables and registers overloaded and maxed themselves to the brink, I hope we did lots of loving. The food and water of the world is only finite. As Jesus told the woman at the well, we will thirst again. But those who receive the love that Christ offers, and sample His food, the bread of life, will be satisfied spiritually. Filled with joy in the powerful name of Jesus. Our Messiah. Emmanuel. God with us.
Suddenly, working the backbar at a mall restaurant takes on a whole new significance. Maybe if I tried to remind myself of the many opportunities God puts out there for me to share His love, I would learn to be more thankful. I'm mindful of this fact every day I'm alive, but on Christmas I'm reminded anew of just how awful a sinner I am. I'm selfish, stubborn, hard-headed, and ignorant about so many things. I know that God loves and cares for me as His own child, and that He loves me because I am David, not because I'm super-spiritual or perfect in works. I can never be any of those things, and He wouldn't want me to be. But when I celebrate the birth of My Savior, who alone was perfect and without fault in every way imaginable, I just want to drop to my knees and weep. He loves me despite my sins, my failures, all the times I've turned my back on Him. He's always been there, just like a shepherd, waiting for his lost sheep to come running back into his arms. I'm amazed he hasn't put a bell on me. "Oh, listen. There's the bell ringing. David must have wandered away from me again but now he's coming back."
Okay, okay, lame attempt at humor, I know.
I'll try to stay on the subject. I worked at CFA until about 7:00 at night. We had a good shift; very hectic, but we made it through. I got a surprise gift from the manager; I'll definitely have to thank him for that. My family headed down to Whitmire for Christmas Eve dinner, gifts, and fireworks with my Mom's family. Yes, we shoot fireworks on Christmas Eve. Don't you? :) They said everyone missed me, but not nearly as much as I missed them. I went home and turned on all the Christmas tree lights and the fireplace gas logs so the house would be nice and bright for our devotional time. I sat up with Izzy, my dog, watching A Christmas Story (a charming movie, by the way) while I waited for them to get home, which they did soon after 9:00. Elves must have come by at some point in the evening, because we found new t-shirts for each of us lying under the tree. Ironically enough, mine, Susannah, and Baxter's were patterned after A Christmas Story, while my Mom and Dad's looked like A Charlie Brown Christmas. Anyway, we gathered for devotionals. Susannah started it by reading The Night Before Christmas as Mom provided visual aides for each line, hehe. Then Baxter read the story of Jesus' birth from Luke 2 in the King James Bible. He's gotten to be a very good reader. After that, I read a document my Dad had picked up from an online resource. It's called "Teach the Children," and yes, it's the same document that I posted here just a few days ago. I loved it the moment I saw it. I love the truths in there. The truths about Santa Claus. The truths about the ornaments and symbols of the Christmas season. The bell. The holly leaf. The candle. Even gifts. They represent much more than the commercialization that our world has heaped upon them. So I was glad to read it.
Then my Dad started talking about Jesus, specifically why He came to Earth the way He did. I have talked about that here, too. It was a meager and humble birth, not the grandiose arrival that everyone was expecting. It was a tiny, helpless baby, not an invincible, conquering ruler. In the company were animals and shepherds, not the high class of society. I'll never fully understand God's plan in the birth happening that way, but I suppose that was the whole point. It's not about our human expectations, our timetables, our predictions. It's about God's divine Will. Letting it happen as God sees fit for it to happen, and trusting in Him to do what is best. We aren't supposed to grasp all the answers, or even understand completely. If we did, God wouldn't be God. He would be grounded to a human understanding, no more than an idol or a manmade figurehead, unworthy of our praise and worship. It's the mysteriousness of God's plan that allows for faith, the first stepping stone of a deep, personal relationship with Him. Faith in something we can't see, comprehend, or physically latch onto. Impossible and absurd by the standards of our secular world. But faith makes all the sense in the world on the terms of our Heavenly Daddy.
After Dad talked, Mom started singing "Silent Night." She loves that song, and she knows I love to harmonize on the lyrics, so I chimed in with her melody. Was it really a silent night; that fateful eve in the manger stable with the Christ-child, Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men? I don't know. The angels in heaven must have been rejoicing, so we know the gates of Paradise were anything but silent. The Bible said Mary treasured up all these things in her heart. She was probably overcome not only with the birth process, but with the significance of what had taken place. Keep in mind, Mary was only a little girl, probably no more than 14 or 16 years old, when she gave birth to the Son of God. It only makes sense that she remained quiet, taking it all in. And I can suppose the shepherds were still basking in the glow of the star of Bethlehem. Still hearing the angel's words comforting their fears, soothing their hearts with God's awesome promise. No doubt they were pretty excited. Maybe the silence had another meaning we don't yet understand. I can't really say anything for certain. But it's still a beautiful song.
My family then prayed the Lord's prayer, followed by personal prayers reflecting on Christmas, its true meaning, and for those in the world who don't know it. I'm so thankful to have hope in Jesus. He's the reason I rejoice; the rock I lean on in times of sadness. I know my Dad was thinking about his Dad, my grandfather, when he prayed. This time next month, it will have been two years since he died from cancer. Losing him was terribly hard for all of us. I could fill page after page of this blog talking about his wisdom, corny humor, comforting voice, and keen ability to understand, but this is getting lengthy enough already. Our hope in God's plan of salvation to all of those who believe on Him is what sustains us, and gives us strength to keep going. We know that we will see Poppy in Heaven one day. It's okay to be sad and miss him while we're here on Earth, but death is not the end. God holds mastery over death itself, and it will one day be banished forever along with sin and suffering. Death in itself is evil and will eventually meet its end, just like Satan. If that isn't a reason to hope in Jesus, then I don't know what is!
I don't usually sleep well on Christmas Eve, and this year was no different. So I just stayed up and listened to all of my church cantatas, singing along (quietly of course) as the Spirit led me. My sibs got up around 5:30, ready to dig in. So we headed downstairs to the Christmas tree for present time. I try to go slow on my presents since I'm the type who likes to savor the moment by actually taking time to look over presents, not unwrapping them, giving them a glance, then tossing them aside for the next one. So I'm usually the last child to get through my lot. My Dad cooked his traditional Christmas breakfast of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and smoked ham. I know that he looks forward to that every year, but it's not a good idea to enter the kitchen while he's slaving over the stove. It tends to get pretty smokey. I'm amazed we've never set off the fire alarm in the house. So breakfast was terrific, and at about 10:00, we got all dressed up (a few of us wearing new clothes from the morning) to go to church. Anna Kate sat with us and we had a wonderful service. It blended the traditional and contemporary styles into one package, so we enjoyed singing gospel hymns and swaying back and forth to some rousing modern praise. Randy preached a good sermon, and we celebrated the Lord's Supper. I wish every Christmas could come on Sunday. When I hear things like, "[insert name] Church will be closed this Sunday due to the Christmas holiday" and "Aw, Mom, we have to open presents! Do we have to get all dressed up for church?" my spirit aches with sadness. I wonder if some of these people would treat Easter the same way. I can just imagine it. "[insert name] Church will be closed Sunday due to the Easter Egg Hunt." "Hey Mom! What's Jesus have to do with the Easter Bunny?"
Sigh. I really am getting mauldin in my old age. I'll stop now.
My tardiness aside, I hope you all had a Merry Christmas, and that you found some hint of the true joy that is the Christmas spirit. Remember to look for it in the most unlikely places. After all, I found some in cooking fries and packaging chicken in a greasy backbar this year. Funny how God works like that. Then again, it's just like Him.
Song of the Day: Camp Kirkland - "The Ways of God"
Verse of the Day: "Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor? Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." - Romans 11:33-36
posted by david @ 5:32 PM
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