Love, In The Room

file2331237210245A little boy named Bobby is purported to have said – “Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.”

When I read that quote I wondered about what that little boy would hear. The laughter of his siblings, the chatter of the adults; the snoring of his grandfather asleep in his favourite chair perhaps, or the cooking preparations going on in the kitchen; the whine of a new puppy or the mechanical sounds of electronic gifts already opened?

Or perhaps that young and obviously very discerning little boy was hearing something more ethereal. Perhaps he was hearing angels singing praises to the Christ Child, or the words of the Magi as they presented their gifts. Perhaps he was hearing the booming voice of our heavenly Father announcing the arrival of his Son on this earth. Or the voice of Jesus Himself, saying, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Those are indeed the sounds of love, a love so deep it is impossible to comprehend it. And that Love is present with us, in the room, because the Child whose birth we celebrate embodies love and gave us the greatest gift of all time, through a sacrifice performed on a cross in a tiny country in the Middle East over 2,000 years ago.

That little boy knew the secret to finding that Love. It’s a matter of shifting our focus from earthly things to things spiritual. In the rush and flurry of the Christmas season it’s easy to forget the fact that it is, in its essence, a spiritual time. It’s a time to reflect on the birth of a Saviour, a time to ponder our relationship with Him, a time to seek His forgiveness and grace.

Perhaps opening a Bible would be a good place to start, if you want to find that Love. The story is told in the very beginning of the New Testament. Matthew 1:18-23 reads: “This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about … All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, which means “God with us.””

God, with us. Love, with us – in a room full of the joy of Christmas or in a homeless shelter; in a school room or an office tower; in a hospital or a grocery store; on a bus travelling across the country or a plane taking people home to their loved ones. He is always with us, everywhere.

So this Christmas, take the time to stop opening the presents. Sit back and just listen. Ponder the Christ Child.

Perhaps you too will discover that Love is, indeed, in the room.

The Spur – A Defining Love

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“I think you’re my pastor’s wife.” The elderly woman smiled up at me from her wheelchair. I nodded and chatted with her for a moment. When I looked up, I saw her husband brushing away tears. His wife had days when she recognized hardly anyone. It was only a matter of time before she would not even know him. The tears were brushed away quickly and he kissed the top of her head as he told me she’d been doing very well lately. Then, as always, he told me how much he loved his wife. “More every day,” he’d say. “More every day.” As he wheeled her away I stood in awe of such love.

It takes a special kind of love to care for those who are not able to respond, like patients suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. That kind of love is described in the Bible this way:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

When we see such love lived, we stand in awe. How can this be done? How can we love this way, consistently, when it takes so much courage and strength and pure will to focus completely on someone else?

There is only one way, by relying on the One who is Love incarnate. His love flowing through us gives us the courage and strength and will. When we turn to Him and ask, “how can I do this?” He answers: “And now I will show you the most excellent way.” His love is pure and unconditional and totally other-focused. To demonstrate it, He gave his life for ours. He is the source of a pure and defining love.

Indeed, He is love.

Care giving for a person who has Alzheimer’s is one of the most difficult things anyone could attempt. To do it, one needs the kind of love only Jesus can provide. With Him as our source, anything is possible.

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This post is part of a blog tour honouring those who suffer with Alzheimer’s disease and those who care for them. Click on the links below to follow the tour.

Nov. 6th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 7th –Sheila Seiler Lagrand- http://sheilalagrand.com/

Nov. 8th –Giovanni Gelati- http://gelatisscoop.blogspot.com/

Nov. 10th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 10th –Cindy Noonan- http://www.cindynoonan.com/

Nov. 11th-Sue Badeau- http://suebadeau.webs.com/apps/blog/

Nov. 12th-Peggy Blann Phifer- http://www.whispersinpurple.com/

Nov. 13th-Sandy Sieber- http://pahistorybooks.blogspot.com/

Nov. 13th– Joy Ross Davis- http://joyrossdavis.com/blog/

Nov.14th –Karen Gass- http://www.cottonspice.net/

Nov. 17th –Patti J. Smith- http://gridirongrannyfootballfanatic.blogspot.com/

Nov. 18th-Tracy Krauss- http://www.tracykraussexpressionexpress.com/

Nov.19th –Melanie M. Jeschke- http://melaniejeschke.blogspot.com/

Nov.21st– Andrea J. Graham- http://www.christsglory.com/

Nov.22nd-Linda Wood Rondeau- http://lindarondeau.blogspot.com/

Nov.24th-Diane Huff Pitts- http://dianehuffpitts.com/

Nov.25th –Mark Venturini- http://markventurinijourney.blogspot.com/

 

Alzheimer’s Awareness Blog Tour

2decover_1300x992(91)Alzheimer’s Disease Awareness and Caregivers Month Blog Tour

President Ronald Reagan designated November as National Alzheimer’s Disease Awareness Month in 1983. At the time, fewer than 2 million Americans had Alzheimer’s; today, the number of people with the disease has soared to nearly 5.4 million (Alzheimer’s Association, 2014). The Author Community of Helping Hands Press is getting involved this month, and hopes to help raise awareness for Alzheimer’s disease.

Staring Nov. 3rd, with Anne Baxter Campbell’s blog post and Sue Badeau’s appearance on blogtalk radio, and finishing on Nov. 25th with Mark Venturini’s blog post, many of the authors in the Helping Hands Press Community will be sharing their personal stories.

Who are the authors, their blogs and what days?

Here is the list:

Nov.3rd-Anne Baxter Campbell- http://pewperspective.blogspot.com/

Nov.4th –Doris Gaines Rapp- http://dorisgainesrapp.blogspot.com/

Nov.5th-Marcia Lee Laycock- https://marcialeelaycock.com/thespur/

Nov. 6th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 7th –Sheila Seiler Lagrand- http://sheilalagrand.com/

Nov. 8th –Giovanni Gelati- http://gelatisscoop.blogspot.com/

Nov. 10th –Ruth L. Snyder- http://ruthlsnyder.com/

Nov. 10th –Cindy Noonan- http://www.cindynoonan.com/

Nov. 11th-Sue Badeau- http://suebadeau.webs.com/apps/blog/

Nov. 12th-Peggy Blann Phifer- http://www.whispersinpurple.com/

Nov. 13th-Sandy Sieber- http://pahistorybooks.blogspot.com/

Nov. 13th– Joy Ross Davis- http://joyrossdavis.com/blog/

Nov.14th –Karen Gass- http://www.cottonspice.net/

Nov. 17th –Patti J. Smith- http://gridirongrannyfootballfanatic.blogspot.com/

Nov. 18th-Tracy Krauss- http://www.tracykraussexpressionexpress.com/

Nov.19th –Melanie M. Jeschke- http://melaniejeschke.blogspot.com/

Nov.21st– Andrea J. Graham- http://www.christsglory.com/

Nov.22nd-Linda Wood Rondeau- http://lindarondeau.blogspot.com/

Nov.24th-Diane Huff Pitts- http://dianehuffpitts.com/

Nov.25th –Mark Venturini- http://markventurinijourney.blogspot.com/

 

Travel and What it Does to You

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I have just returned from a 16 day trip across the Pacific Ocean. Being on open water for that long eventually gives you good sea legs but when you return you find you also have an inner ear that seems to insist that you are still bobbing and rolling along days after you have arrived on dry land.

Returning home also comes with the disorienting feeling that you’ve been away for months instead of days, while the “catching up” adds to the feeling that you really didn’t go anywhere at all. Somewhere in between all of that are the memories.

They cling tHawaian adornment (2)o you, images of tropical jungles and a variety of plant life that is stunning, smells that put you right back in the spot where you bent to sniff that flower, and sounds that make you stop and listen for those brightly coloured birds. Then you realize all of it is now far away and remains only in your mind. But the colours remain vibrant, the sounds crisp and clear.

And then there are the people – the woman you met who is likely making her last voyage on this earth; the tiny lady with exuberant energy who always wore a hat; the woman from India who remembered your name even though she had only met you once over a week ago; the American who kept bumping into you and saying, “oh yeah, you’re the writer;” and the girl from Indonesia whose smile lit up the whole room.

All of it aIao Mntn - Kuka'emoku Valley (14)dds up to an experience that changes you, a space of time that shifts your attitudes and makes you thankful for the life you lead and all that’s in it. I saw fish I could never have imagined existed and the largest Banyan tree in the world that spreads its roots and branches over an entire city block. I felt the steam of a volcano and the rough texture of the land its eruptions create. I laughed at jokes that really only make sense in another language and tried to twist my tongue to make those unfamiliar sounds.

Oh yes, there were a number of “first world problems” – internet access was almost non-existent, the living space was a little cramped and sometimes the coffee wasn’t really hot. But life was made more broad, enriched; opinions were challenged and sensations stimulated.

In short, I joined the ranks of the privileged and traveled. And I am thankful.

“Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them” (Psalm 111:2).

 

How a Boy Named Mouse Taught Me to Pray

sunset prayerLadyhawk. It’s an old film released in 1985. Matthew Broderick, in one of his first film roles, plays a leading part as a young boy, Philippe Gaston, aka, Mouse. The film is a touching love story of mythic proportions, full of medieval scenery, chivalrous knights and beautiful horses. The cinematography is stunning.

But I still think of Ladyhawk as the movie that taught me how to pray. I was a new Christian and had just come across these verses in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 – “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

I was especially struck by the phrase, “pray continually.” I was reasonably familiar with the idea of asking God for things. That had been my go-to method on the rare occasions when I thought I needed something from God. But pray continually? I was wondering what that meant exactly, what it would be like to do that, when I watched Ladyhawk and met that boy named Mouse. They called him Mouse because of his ability to get in and out of places through small holes. You see Mouse was a thief. The movie opens with him escaping through the sewer system of a medieval prison. As he is quite literally worming his way through the pipes he prays and bargains with God. He promises that if God gets him out, he’ll never steal again. He ends up in a river – yes, God gets him out – but it isn’t long before he breaks his promise by stealing a man’s money pouch, apologizing to God as he does so. We follow Mouse as he continues to find a way to survive.

And all that time, he is talking to God.

And that’s how I learned what “pray continually,” or “without ceasing,” as the King James version says, really means. God was so real to Mouse that he conversed with him as though He were walking beside him, traveling with him every moment of the day, even as he continued to get into trouble and out again.

I don’t recommend bargaining with God, or apologizing to Him as you disobey Him. But it was Mouse’s faith that impressed me. Even though he was a rather unrepentant thief, his belief in a very real God who could and would help him in spite of all his failings, stirred my heart. And I began to practice what Mouse taught me. I began to talk to Jesus as though he were standing beside me every moment of the day, not just to ask Him for something, but just to talk. Like Mouse, there have even been times when I’ve had to be careful that I wasn’t talking out loud, lest someone think I was a brick or two short of a full load.

That practice, teamed with the other parts of that verse, being thankful and rejoicing always, has brought God close, shown me such stunning answers to prayer that I could barely breath and taught me that Mouse was right. Jesus hears you as clearly as someone who is walking beside you. He will stay with you, even when you fail continually.

For this is God’s will for us all, in Christ Jesus.

 

Go To Your Altars

by Marcia Lee Laycock

Altar

At a recent writing seminar those attending were challenged to write the last few words we would give to the world before we died. A sobering thought. I’d been thinking a lot about altars lately, since I had been doing a Bible study on the ancient tabernacle and how it relates to us today. The study led us to realize that we are now the temple, the place where the Spirit of God resides on this earth. Another sobering thought.

The Bible study detailed the role of the various altars and furniture used in the tabernacle that was built and carried by the Hebrew people during their time in the wilderness. They were instructed in the construction and placement of the altar of sacrifice, the altar of incense, the table of the bread, the lamp stand and the brazen laver and, most significant of all, the ark of the covenant that sat behind the veil in the Holy of Holies. Each one had a specific purpose. At each altar the priests were to perform specific rites for the atonement of the sins of the nation.

That led me to wonder – if I am a temple, where are my altars? Do I have an altar of sacrifice – that place where I lay down that which is precious to me as an offering to the Lord? I should do so daily, within the sincerity of my heart. Do I have a brazen laver where I wash myself before entering God’s presence? I should do so on my knees, humbled to know that I can proceed into His presence because of the spilling of His Son’s blood that has washed my sins away forever. Do I have an altar of incense, that place from which praise and prayer and worship emanate? Again, it should be a daily practise, erupting from my mind and my mouth like a fountain.

Do I have a table, where the bread, the body of my Lord, is displayed in all its simplicity and glory? Is there a lamp stand, that place that burns with His holy fire that can never be extinguished? I must hold it up high for all to see. And is there an ark in me, a place where the remembrances of God’s faithfulness and holiness are kept? I should cherish them in the depths of my soul, bowing before that mercy seat and acknowledging the forgiveness He has extended to me by His death on that cross.

These altars all require my service, the death of my own agendas and ambitions, the breaking of my pride and a bowing down to His sovereignty.

So these are my few words, words that I would say to myself and to all of us who would be believers in Christ –

Go to Your Altars

the altar of incense, shouting out praise, petitions and songs; the altar of washing, bathing in His mercy, acknowledging His grace; the altar of the lamp stand, feeding the flame of faith as a light to the world; the altar of sacrifice, relinquishing your ambitions, your dreams and your pride. Go to your altars. Lay yourself down.

A Good Cleaning

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It’s that time of year again – time for spring cleaning. We’ve been doing a lot of it lately, and not just in our own home. We’re helping missionary friends get their home ready to be put on the rental market. It’s a big job and when we saw the condition of the house after the last tenants moved out, we despaired of getting it done quickly. But we were thrilled when several people showed up when we called a work bee. They came with rags and mops, rubber gloves and sponges, shovels and rakes, and they set about giving the place a good cleaning.

There was a team assigned to the garage, one inside the house and one outside. Before long the whole area was a hive of activity. I was working with the crew inside so didn’t see what was happening outside until it was almost time to leave. I was stunned when I saw the transformation. When we arrived the yard had been matted with old leaves and grasses, a web of winter mould laying on top. The flower beds were quite ugly, with dead growth carpeting the soil, smothering anything that might have been trying to grow.

Several men had gone to work with rakes and shovels and the result was obvious. I was surprised to even see some green shoots coming up in the lawn. Then a friend pointed out the bright green shoots in the garden – crocuses, tulips and irises were pushing through.

As I bent to examine them it made me think of the work God does in our lives. We sometimes must look as dreary and dead as that yard looked, layered with the leavings of old sin and smothered with the webs of guilt that threaten to smother us. But God is in the business of giving us all a good cleaning.

How thankful we should be that Jesus has cleared all the rubbish away, just as surely as those rakes and shovels cleaned that yard. He did it by his death, the death we will celebrate in only a few short days. It seems odd to say those two words in the same sentence – death and celebrate. His is the only death I know of that is celebrated, by the people who say they love Him. We celebrate it because His death means our release, His suffering means our freedom and His mercy means we will have life everlasting. That’s why we call it Good Friday.

And that’s why we celebrate not just his death but his resurrection.

As Jesus said to his friend, Mary, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25,26).

Mary said yes. Will you?

Waiting

DSC_2198Ask anyone in the country and they’ll tell you it’s been a long cold winter. Spring’s feet have been weighed down with ice, her blood still running cold and sluggish even though it’s well past the date they designate as the first day of spring.
And everyone has had enough. Everyone is longing for green, for the sound of running water, the sight of clear blue skies and the feel of a warming sun.
The longing of our hearts can be an ache that won’t let go. It can be for something as simple as a change in the weather or it can be a deep yearning for the return of a loved one who is gone, the desire to return to a time and place that gave us pleasure, or the deep deep longing to be forever in God’s presence, in a place where there will be no more pain or suffering, no more longings.
These feelings are indications that we are not yet where we were meant to be, that we are not yet who we were meant to be. It’s the deep deep longing for communion with God Himself. These longings can sometimes build into frustration with ourselves, with our circumstances, and even with our creator.
The scripture tells us that even nature “was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies” (Romans 8:19-23).
The waiting is hard, especially when the end result we long for is delayed or perhaps even seems like a mirage. There are days when it seems it’s too much to bear, but we know the end will come. The trees will bloom and the soft warm breezes will blow. And we know some day we will be in the presence of our creator, the One who has put these longings in our hearts to remind us that there is something so much more and so much better to come.
And as we wait we have His promises, His presence with us, the daily mercies that tell us He knows and understands our heart’s longings. And we can know that His intention is to fulfill them, to give us our heart’s desires in ways that we cannot now comprehend. The redemption of our bodies, our minds and our souls will someday be a reality, just as the arrival of spring is sure.
So “put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption” (Psalm 130:7).

 

Almost by Marcia Lee Laycock

“Tell me your story,” my friend said.

I smiled and warned her that we might be there for a while, but she said she wanted to hear all of it. And I was excited because I love telling it, not because it’s my story but because it is, from beginning to end, God’s story. It becomes obvious to those listening and even more, to myself, that God’s hand of protection has been over all of my life. There were so many times when I could have/should have had disastrous things happen; times when I almost died.

As my husband has said, “You walked into the fire and right out of it again with hardly a scratch!” Well, the smell of smoke often lingered, but he’s right. I can relate to Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.

There was that day I should have drowned but was saved, that night I could have been raped and even murdered but was left alone, that time I ingested a poison but it left no effect, the times I trusted strangers who could have been demons but turned out to be angels. Over and over again God protected me.

Oh yes, I have had my share of tragedies and trials, but even in those circumstances, God was there. There was the moment when I heard those mind-numbing words, you have cancer, the days when the chemo treatments were almost too much and others when I almost could not make myself walk through the doors of the clinic where I would lay on a table and allow radiation to burn my body. There was that day I was almost overcome when I realized the child I carried would not be born alive and the day I got the phone call telling me my father had died. There were those years when the pain of the circumstances almost drove me to curse God.

In all of those times it was God’s presence, and above all His love, that kept me sane, kept me going, and kept me in the shelter of his wings. It was Jesus who kept me from going beyond ‘almost.’

I love that old song that says, “The Name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it and they are safe.” The words are true. The name Jesus keeps us safe, even in the midst of the fire or in the midst of a raging storm – not always safe from pain, but safe from separation from Him. And that is the only agony we would not survive.

These words are also true: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair, persecuted but not abandoned; struck down but not destroyed” (2Corinthians 4:7-9).

That is our testimony, our story as believers in Christ Jesus. When we have Him we will always have that word, almost.

 

Flash Mobs at Christmas

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I love the videos of flash mobs that circulate on YouTube and Facebook, especially at this time of year. I love to watch the faces of those in the malls or city squares as they realize that something unusual is happening. The looks range from bemused delight to open-mouthed awe. Cell phones quickly appear to capture the event and the applause at the end is usually long and loud.

What is it about these spontaneous events that delight us?

We aren’t expecting it. Who expects a symphony orchestra to suddenly strike up in a food court? The people doing it look just like us yet they are doing something out of the ordinary, something fun and sometimes spectacular. Ordinary routines are suddenly halted, an ordinary day is turned into a festival and the focus on scurrying around to shop is forgotten. Strangers smile at one another and share the delight of discovery. For a few moments a community is created.

As I watched a flash mob the other day I thought of how perfectly it exemplified the spirit of Christmas.

Who expected the Messiah to be born as a baby in a manger? The people involved were ordinary people who looked just like all the others in that era yet they were involved in a world-changing event – something totally out of the ordinary, something spectacular. The ordinary routines of Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men were suddenly halted. An ordinary event, the birth of a child, on an ordinary day, became the pivot on which history would turn. Those who came to worship the Christ child on that day were strangers to one another, but they became companions in a journey that would lead them to the most important discovery of their lives and a joy that would never leave them.

As I thought about it, I thought about my own attitude to yet another Christmas season. I’ve seen over six decades of them. Yes, I’m that old! And sometimes I miss the delight and the joy I had as a child, because it is all so familiar. It’s all so commercial with the constant pressure to buy and my jaded attitude causes me to miss the glory.

Perhaps that’s why I love the flash mobs. They renew my joy in this season, they renew my delight in the story that is still the pivot of the world’s history even after more than 2,000 years.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6

What about you? Has your attitude toward Christmas been jaded by all the commercialism? Click into Youtube and find a video about a flash mob. Then ponder that event, more than 2,000 years ago. It might just renew your Christmas spirit.