God Knows Our Address--and Our Favorite Treat!

 One of our favorite preachers, Bro. Harry Plank, says over and over again that God knows our address. Well, He also knows our favorite treats at Christmas time!

A week and a half ago, Carrie's violin teacher, with whom we often share our extra cow milk, and a sister came to look at Crystal's puppies. They brought with them a Christmas gift for us. I couldn't get over how they brought this huge bag of pistachios--my favorite nuts!

And in a gift bag there were crackers with cream cheese and Honey Smoked Salmon--one of Jonathan's favorite treats! They did not know our favorite treats, but God did! Their gift meant so much to me--not just because someone brought us a gift, but because the gifts were totally accidentally our favorite treats! Which left us feeling like it was from God and not from people! That warmed my heart over and over. It lets us know that He just has His ways of whispering to His people what to do, what to give, and what is His will. Just little tokens of His love and care at Christmas time!

Last Saturday we weren't able to go to any of the events we had been invited to. Sam's Firemen's Christmas Dinner was cancelled due to Covid concerns, and we couldn't attend a couple other events, either. So we ended up driving up to Calhan where there was their annual Calhan Christmas parade.

It was different this year! The parade was a drive-by parade. The parade stood there, and we drove by!! There was a traffic jam at the corner of this little country town where vehicles were waiting to turn, and a policeman sitting in his car was asleep!

Anyway, it was a fun little outing when we couldn't do anything else. 

We were stuck at home that Sunday, too, and so we had some Christmas music and our own little service.

"If You Want to Make a Grown Man Cry--"

We were a little late getting our Christmas tree cut in the mountains this year, but that's okay.

I reminded my girls who were choosing ornaments with which to decorate it

to make sure that they chose plenty with the real meaning of Christmas.

                                            It can be so easy to just go with a secular theme--hunting, buffalo plaid, winter ice skates and sleds and snowflakes, but for our own home, I choose to make sure that even while we decorate our tree, we remember God. One of God's biggest gripes with mankind is that they forget Him. Some people think that the way to please Him is to not celebrate Christmas--no tree, no gifts, no decorations. They think that is the way to be spiritual. But are we really remembering Him? I think Christmas can be a really great time to remember Him. We can remember Him by decorating a tree with meaningful ornaments, or we can remember Him by not having a tree but spending extra time praising Him, singing, or praying. I don't think that just treating Christmas like any other day is a really great way to remember God. Remembering God requires action, purpose, and special events and celebrations.

                                          

    I loved the real horse and cow in the background behind the manger scene window cling!And below Rose decorating cookies before the kids went Christmas caroling last night. 

      Jonathan and Sam arrived home just as the kids left to go caroling, and the working men needed to be served supper (I heated it on the woodstove!) After the men cleared out of the kitchen and I got the dishes almost all done, I found myself just praying in the quietness, praying for our children and for our neighbors. I was wishing we knew how to reach them with the gospel.

Well, little did I know!! The kids with the three friends who came to carol with them were already reaching them with the gospel in Christmas song! They went over to our next door neighbors, and the father said the carolers were awesome. In fact, he and his wife and kids asked if they could all go with the carolers to the next places! Our kids were delighted! So the neighbors jumped into their truck and followed our kids around, and also asked if the carolers could carol to some people they knew! Mr. Neighbor was so excited, he was videoing the whole thing everywhere they went! Rose said she has never seen him so excited! The neighbors wanted the kids to carol to Mrs. Neighbor's parents, and so they did. The parents/grandparents live a couple miles away. The granddad came out to listen, hugging on his little granddaughter, and he was crying. He said, "If you want to make a grown man cry---!" He said it was the first time in his life that he was ever caroled to! Our neighbors directed our kids to two other places and were having so much fun, they wanted to carol all night!

Anyway, the carolers also caroled to the mechanic, who has had Crystal's car in his garage for over four months now. He was on the verge of tears,too. He said, "This is much appreciated!" He doesn't have a happy life, lives either alone or with a daughter or something. He had to quit his own business because of so many problems with it, but discovered that working for another mechanic shop only proved that they have the same kind of problems--wrong products being shipped in, etc. We've tried to be patient with him about the car, and show him kindness since he seems depressed and unhappy in his life.

We heard about people caroling in California, hundreds of them, to protest the ban on singing. Well, the kids weren't protesting anything, just taking some joy to people around us. I think that the darker the night around us, the brighter the light of Christ shines in His people. We may not have all the answers, but we have Jesus!

One of the lovely things about the Christmas season is that Crystal can be home from student teaching! So we get to enjoy hearing her playing the piano often. She is already being asked about by no fewer than three interested parties involved in missions or Christian school, and is praying about what the Lord would have her to do after the holiday season is over.

 

The Unending Tug-of-War

 

        Does this picture remind anyone of anything that is going on right now post-election?

Well, it was going on in our house, too, the other day! (For your information, that was an old sock, not a good one!) And thankfully, the tug-of-war was just between the dogs.

If there has been something I have noticed this Christmas season, it is the peace in our home.

 That doesn't mean there isn't anything upsetting or imperfect or quite non-angellic. It doesn't mean nobody is ever unhappy, or that nobody is ever impatient or that nobody ever complains. There is just peace. 

We get through the hard moments and come out still loving each other and sticking by each other.  

The children either go to work or do their work at home, do their school, and play music with each other.

They do their chores, operate their businesses, help each other, play games with each other, and spend bits of several days decorating for Christmas.

                           There is love here. We aren't perfect by a long shot, but there is love here.

And joy! It's something that is hard to explain. But today when we heard about another young person flying to someone else's home for Christmas, one of the children couldn't imagine going somewhere for Christmas instead of being home!

We realized that many homes are unhappy and young people would be happy to go somewhere else for Christmas. But I also hastened to explain that when young people grow up, they start wanting to stretch their wings and live their own lives, even if they come from happy homes. Spending Christmas somewhere besides home is a fine thing, if the other choice is healthy and happy.

I was just happy to hear my children sounding like the happiest place to be for Christmas was home! 

I hope it is always that way. I hope they will always want to come home. I hope they will know that here at home they are loved.

They are welcome.

And they belong.

I know after they are married, things will be different. They may want to sometimes have their own Christmas, or be with the in-laws. I hope they will know that is okay, too.

But I hope that here at home there will always be love and joy and peace.

Black-capped Chickadee Hopping Near

  Jonathan motioned me to come over to the window a few mornings ago. There was Hannah, standing  very still by the bird feeder.

She stood with her eyes closed, very still, hoping the little black-capped chickadee would land on the feeder while she was there! The wee hungry little birdie hopped about, closer and closer! Finally--yay!--it flew right down to the feeder right in front of Hannah and got itself a beakful of sunflower seeds, the bird version of daily bread. 

       I can't help thinking--I wonder if God is just a little bit like that on a sunny winter morning?

 Does He just stand there sometimes, waiting for us to draw near for our daily Bread from Him? Does He stand quite still for those of us who feel uncertain that He is safe, that He is not out to get us if we make a mistake? Does He wish for us to draw close as much as Hannah hoped the little chickadee would come close while she was standing there?

"Draw near to Me," says the Lord, "and I will draw near to you." Yes, especially on an uncertain             December morning.

 

Family Photos

                                                              Well, we tried anyway.

With no one to take a whole family picture, first we took a photo of just Jonathan and me in front of our frosty tree.

                                                And then we took a photo of the children.

                           We tried anyway. It disintegrated really fast in the bright sunshine.

                                                      It disintegrated REALLY fast!!!

                             After many moans and laughs and encouragements, we tried again.

                                                                        Well, we tried!

                                                           

Charming Log Chapel and Wounded Hands

Sunday morning after a very uncertain night and early morning, my extended family was not sure what to do. It seemed almost disrespectful to just go on with life as if nothing had happened. As if Dad was not in the hospital ICU fighting for his life!

As if he was not on oxygen and hooked up to a Bi-PAP machine. 

But there were too many of us to just sit around in one house wringing our hands.

We decided to worship, just like usual. 

Just like Dad would want us to do.

"I was glad when they said unto me, 'Let us go into the house of the Lord."

And truly I was glad. 

Getting out of the house helped us.

The fresh air revived us. 

Mom and Dad's church had just shut down for a couple weeks because different ones were sick, and the family had decided to meet at a little country chapel, just us.

 

We all dressed for church and made a sort of caravan driving our many vehicles the twenty minutes away to a charming little log chapel built way back on a little property where there was a lake as well named Chapel Lake.

Friends of my family had told them about this chapel that was built by a wealthy business owner in memory of his wife. The chapel is open for public use such as weddings or other services as long as someone calls ahead so that the property guard can unlock the gate and let you in. 

  There are lots of picnic tables on the property for when the weather suits.    My relatives have worshiped here a few times, especially when missionaries or friends come through. The chapel is called simply Christ Chapel.

I loved the scene of all the uncles and aunts and cousins and Grandma heading to a picture-perfect chapel.

I had hardly ever been so eager to go into the house of the Lord.

Sam entering the chapel.

It had been such a strenuous weekend that nobody in particular had an order of worship or a sermon, but we simply began to sing together, one hymn after another, beginning with "How Great Thou Art." 

Gabriel's family sang for us the beautiful, assuring song, "Come and Rest" that they had sung at the funeral for former God's Missionary Church president Paul Miller. It was the same arrangement my family used to sing long years ago, with another song added in as a medley, "In the Riven Rock I'm Resting," I think it was.

Four cousins--Ezra, David, Gabey, and Regi sang the very same arrangement of "Dare to Stand Like Joshua" that my brothers used to sing as a men's quartet years ago. 

It was outstanding, and such a special surprise to my mom. Sorry my photo of it was so fuzzy.

Kezia and her two little girls sang a beautiful song of assurance, a lovely contemporary song. 

I shared a children's story from Alaska, a true story about a young lady who decided to enter her sled dogs into a 60-mile race having practiced only two times two days beforehand!

I bought the book at an airport in Alaska in August and also bought a sled dog hat which Jonathan wore during the story, pretending to be one of the sled dogs who got into a tangle with the others.

Jonathan the Sled Dog did a great job of growling and snarling at the little boys in the front row and making even Rose nearly jump out of her skin!

The point I made in the story that morning was that in the race that we are running to heaven, 

we must keep going until the very end.

We must not stop even if we fall off the sled; even if we get stuck in dogfights that leave us wounded and suffering with headaches, like that girl did. 

We must not give up even when we have lost our way like she thought she did.

We don't have to be the first, the best, or the fastest--but we must finish the race!

Elon then shared a Psalm and encouraged testimonies of God's goodness to us this year. 

Of course, Mom shared. While it was distressing that none of the family was allowed in at all to be with Dad, one redeeming thing about it was that every single one of us could participate in the worship service at the chapel, especially Mom who enjoyed every minute of the music and sharing time. God always works for good in the middle of distressing times.

After dismissal, I couldn't help wandering up front by the stained glass window. The wounded feet and  hands spoke to me.

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words. 

Without those wounded hands, no chapel would grace a beautiful meadow.

No family would gather to worship.

Nobody would be redeemed. Nobody would be transformed.

We would be without hope. 

But because of those wounded hands, we gather, like little children to the feet of Jesus.

We worship, we adore, we are glad. 

And by His stripes we are healed.

Because of His love, we love and are loved.

It was one of the most inspiring and enriching family times I have ever experienced,