Santa is on Fire

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I would be lying if I said

that Christmas isn’t busy.

There are meetings to attend

people to direct

and nights

far too vacant of slumber.

Yet when I do sleep,

I am reluctant to admit

that I have  dreamt

that Santa is on fire.

I stand there

with arms crossed

satisfaction on my face

as Santa, jolly and red

is smoldering, and ablaze.

Tiny bits of plastic bubble and gurgle

the colors on his crimson suit bleed

and drip…and I with arms crossed

and smile on my face

step back and almost trip…

upon my can of gasoline.

Don’t think me strange

or even a Scrooge for it’s just

a dream that

I have dreamt

I haven’t actually torched Santa,

children there’s no need to cry…

but there are days

when I have considered,

with malicious intent,

what the jolly fat man would

look like all consumed

and a-glowing in a red ball of flame.

There would be no more

“Ho-ho-ho-ing” for that

Jolly man,

If simply just poured

out the contents

of my gasoline can…

then, I would  throw my stocking

which is filled with

coal

happily upon the

Santa pyre.

A Cerulean Bike and a Christmas tree.

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I remember a shimmering cerulean bicycle with a crimson bow on the handle sitting under the Christmas tree.  The Christmas lights were blinking and twinkling casting reflections on the brand new shiny chrome frame.  My eyes tried yet failed to take in the whole spectacle before me.  They were as wide as saucers, yet still my brain couldn’t process the scene.

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I remember my parents, both younger than they are now, with smiles of satisfaction on their faces.  This had been no easy feat.  A bicycle, let alone a new bicycle had taken months to arrive.  We lived on a small island with no airport or major shopping centers.  This Christmas gift had been planned well in advance.

I remember attempting to hold both handles within my child-hands clutching them tightly, white knuckled as I tried to ride with my Father at my side as he held on, as he was my balance.  He wasn’t going to let me fall.  “All you have to do is pump your legs and keep the front wheel straight” He would say; “You can do this!”  I knew I could…and I did.  But not without help.

Yet standing in front of that Christmas tree, cerulean bike shimmering in the twinkling Christmas lights, I caught a glimpse.  It was a glimpse not of a bike, or presents under some tree, but rather as a young child, the love that parents have (or should have) for their children.  It wasn’t about spending money, or giving gifts, but rather it was about being together.  It was about soaking in the presence of each other and caring for one another.  I caught a glimpse of the future too.  It is a future that is before me now, and on Wednesday will join a slew of other Christmas’ soon to be filed away into the ever increasing recesses of my memory, and that of the memories of my children.  I am blessed.  Do my children see this love in me?  Am I beside them?  Am I their balance in a world so often out of it?

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This Christmas, there won’t be a cerulean bicycle beneath our tree…but I will be watching the faces of my children.  I will be soaking up their presence – Ah yes, this is the best gift that money could never buy…which reminds me of another more everlasting gift that we have all been given.

Of the falling snow (a poem)

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Snow is hovering in the air today

weightless, space like, without gravity

it glimmers and glistens 

as it floats between my vision

they dance

I am unaware of the tune

but I have seen its evidence here.

Does beauty have a tune? 

I tell you it does. 

How can it not when all around

evidence of the Creator’s touch 

speaks into the fragile balance?

My feet crunch under its softness

as I venture out into creation 

once more…this time my eyes 

are open.  

“GPS Jesus”

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I read today that a church was having problems with Jesus.  Okay, their problem wasn’t so much Jesus, as much as someone stealing Him from their nativity display on the front lawn of their church building.  

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People have been stealing Jesus?  Say what?  I find this kind of theft interesting.  It’s as interesting as getting reports from church parishioners that someone has stolen a pew bible. If they’re stealing bibles or even Jesus, I say steal away!  There’s no better way of sharing the good news than to have Jesus staring at you as you run from a church parking lot.

But this church didn’t just leave the good news in the hands in the robbers and vandalizers, oh no, they are allowing others to share in the joy should they so choose to “borrow” Jesus from the nativity set.  They have placed a GPS tracker in Jesus…now they know where Jesus is at all times!  

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I think the disciples felt like doing this from time to time if they had possessed GPS technology.  I’m sure they would have wanted to have dropped a tracker in His robe pocket so they would know where He was.  

Do you know where Jesus is?  If you have seen Him, or if you know where He can be located…Keep Him! That’s right, keep Jesus.  

I don’t want to make light of Jesus and our relationship with Him.  Keep Christ in your heart always and never leave Him!  He will always be with you, He even promised that to us!  We don’t need a GPS tracker to find Him, because He is right beside us each step of the way in our lives.  Let Him love you, and if you haven’t already love Him in return, this makes life truly worth living!

-Just a thought.

News Source:  http://www.myfoxdc.com/story/24277120/churches-using-gps-to-keep-track-of-baby-jesus#axzz2o4PIuUzG

How Many Saviors? (A Poem)

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How many Saviors does it take to save

A world hell bent on a fiery grave?

Sin-sick hearts and lonely souls

how many Saviors to make us whole?

 

How many Saviors will make us all free

without a cost, without a fee?

Is there a self-less Messiah around

who will love us, the lost and the found?

 

How many Saviors could love us that much

to redeem us from the certainly of death’s cold dark clutch?

Or die for our sins and claim our transgressions?

A God-man who hears our every confession. 

 

The answer is One, One Lord of the Light 

who redeems us and loves us and restores our dim sight

who comes as a babe and dies like a lamb

Resurrection is here, He is the Great I AM.

-JESUS.

O Bethlehem (A Poem)

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In Bethlehem, O Bethlehem

what sights you must have seen

with manger bed where sheep had fed

and yonder pastures green.

A Savior came, O Bethlehem

the One whom prophets foretold

yet most were blind, they could not find

The God-man soft, yet bold.

Yet Shepherds came, Oh Bethlehem

the unclean keepers of the sheep.

A song they heard, they spread the word

while Jesus was fast asleep.

O Bethlehem, O Bethlehem

His name is ever true!

To all who hear, He drives out fear

Salvation comes to you!

S.E. Strissel ’13’

“Excuse me, you have a little Jesus on you”

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Yesterday I conducted the funeral of a true saint of God. She wasn’t world famous, she hadn’t traveled the world or gone into the slums of some 3rd world city. Rather, she was a consistent prayer warrior for God. Every time that I would go and visit her in her home thinking I would be the one ministering to her, the exact opposite happened. She ministered to me. I was blessed just sitting for a few minutes in her presence. Her health was declining, she had lost her husband (of many years) the year before and yet in the midst of her pains she kept testifying of God’s faithfulness. Her life represented Christ in every way. She was covered with the image of Jesus. She had “a little Jesus on her”.

It reminded me of just how important it is to bear this image of Christ in our attitudes, in our living and in our thoughts and words. Are we honorable people? How do others view us? Are we above reproach in our words, thoughts and actions? How vital it is to live exactly what we claim to believe. My prayer is that each of us would seek to be covered in Jesus. Not just on our faces on Sunday morning but every moment of every day. Is it possible to bear His image everywhere? YES!! But you see in order to bear His image we have to boldly and honestly say to Him, “I surrender all of me to You!” This is a very scary prospect for most people. Many fear a loss of their identity, or the loss of fun, or independence, yet when we say those words to Jesus we will have gained so much more than just one solitary temporal life.

There is a great picture to see here if we take the time to step back from the canvas. I was in a museum a number of years ago and happened upon a painting by the famous modern painter Chuck Close. His method of painting would be frustrating to most painters, because he paints his portraits one color at a time in a pixelated like scheme. When you stand up close (no pun intended) to one of his paintings all you see is a distorted colorful blob on the canvas, but if you step back from it the distorted image becomes so much more clearer and the true portrait is reveal. It is an amazing method that astounds most people when they first see it:

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When we step back from the canvas, that is our life, what do we see? Do we see a life lived just for “self” or is there something more to it? Are we so diluted by a self-indulgent lifestyle that we can’t even fathom containing a little Jesus on us? It would be the easier route, but when we finally stepped back from the canvas we would see how little we have truly impacted this world for anything other than ourselves. I am guilty of this.

Sitting in the small living room with a Saint taught me more than I could have ever thought possible. How much of Jesus do you have on you today? Can others see Him through you? Have you said to Him lately, “Lord I surrender all of myself to You again. Use me Lord!” It might be a scary prospect, but if we do this daily, even moment by moment those little blobs (our surrender) of color will make up the image of Christ in and through us!

I would much rather get to the end of my canvas here on earth and step back and see Christ rather than a mess of colors that really never had a purpose. Let the world see Christ through you! Let them exclaim “Ah ha! You have a little bit of Jesus on you!” and because of it they are changed!

-Just a thought for today!

The Journey (Poem)

The journey is long

the path is caked in dust

and rocks, the donkey 

lumbers on as each rut

and aching stride ushers another

exhale of air in Mary 

as contractions continue.  

There isn’t fan fare 

or folly, 

This. Is. Difficult! 

With gritting teeth and concern

Joseph tries his best to make 

the journey as comfortable as possible

while other along the path 

catch and pass them by…

this is going to take a while.

How humble a journey, 

certainly not an entrance of a king, 

not to mention the King of Kings. 

Yet with this journey 

it brings us new life and hope.

With this journey 

all of nature leans in 

and whispers praises 

as Mary groans with another 

aching mile passing by…

this is going to take a while.  

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The child still lives (Poem)

Somewhere in my grown up heart

exists a child full of wonder and the glimmer

who still “ooo’s and ahhs” over

twinkling lights on Christmas trees 

and longs for that early Christmas morning 

crisp and clear… where, in pajamas and socks,

the family settles in on the old worn sofa

presents wrapped and glowing under 

the stings of lights still hanging on the tree. 

I am still that child, 

still exploring and uncovering this 

majestic mystery of the Yule tide.

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Merry Christmas – Re-ignite the Dance!

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It is officially twelve days until Christmas, holiday shoppers are increasing while patience with our fellow man is slowly, sometimes rapidly, decreasing.  Yuletide mirth and cheer are everywhere!  I was driving down-town last night and the town was all aglow with ambient strings of lights hung meticulously as were the green festive wreathes on lampposts and specialty shops.  The colors blurred my vision as the reds danced and twinkled to an invisible tune played by the wind as the colors of blues and greens joined in.  They marked out a clear and perfect message; “Christ is almost here again!”  Perhaps it was all in my head, but I heard it’s siren’s song!  I heard the melodious cacophony of merriment and expectations!  My heart leap within my chest as I longed to join in as its tune caught my breath and carried it away in one puff of steam rising into the cold crisp air.  

I was alone, being it late at night, there in my van looking down a vacant street waiting for the light to change.  The giant Christmas tree before our old red bricked city hall also glowed and pulsated as the winter wind too en-wrapped its furry bows in merriment and festooning.  Such mystery and awe captured in this solitary moment.  I was caught off guard and yet something that night spoke to me.  Not an audible voice, nor a messenger from heaven with unfurled wings and halo to boot…though I have always longed for such a sign.  But His still small voice whispered into my very soul.  He made me look closely at the dance of His creation there before me.  The humming rhythm and the melodies and harmonies that sauntered on the breeze and blended in an intertwining dance.  He drew my eyes to the dimming lights of homes nearby and my thoughts wandered into their homes and into lives of people I have never met.  They too needed to dance like this.  They were missing the true celebration of Christmas.  They were missing the music of creation worshiping its Creator!  This music doesn’t just happen here on a cold winter night in December, but I felt closer to Him on this night.  My eyes caught its fire and I was ill-prepared to take it all in.  

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We need to dance to the music of the Creator.  We have lost this glow and joy from within our souls and hearts!  Our greatest gift, our source of hope and joy is still playing our tune and message that can ignite our lives once more.  We shouldn’t idly cruise on through, just trying to “survive”…I want to relish this.  We have to relish this!  Cannot miss this anymore.  It isn’t about the lights or the trees, or even the gifts beneath the tree, it’s about God sending us His Son…It’s about Jesus saying “If they keep quiet, the very rocks will cry out!” (Luke 19:40)    The rocks, lights and trees have cried out for far too long…it’s our turn to worship Him!  It’s our turn to re-capture the mystery and awe of His birth!  Don’t miss it again this year!  Don’t be caught unaware and wake up January 1st and wonder how you will survive this next year.  Stop from time to time and dance to His music.  Stop and sing His praises.  Stop and allow Him to shine through you into a world that still longs to wake up and dance as well.  

May your Christmas be about Him, and may He ignite in you like never before!  

Merry Christmas!

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