I saw that you were looking for some Christmas stories to share and so I thought I would send you one of mine. It’s simple but something I look back on often when the hustle and bustle of the season gets to me as a reminder.

It was a few Christmases ago and my entire family was together for Christmas. This happens rarely for us now because my brother is up in the snowy north. But that Christmas his family had traveled down to be with us. We were all together. However as the token single in the family it never felt like the entire family was together for me because I always knew/felt that someone was missing.

That Christmas, maybe because we were all together again after so long apart, the missing person was a painful place in my heart. Now anyone in my family reading this little story will have no idea of that most likely. Because that fact and what happened next weren’t something I have shared until now.
Some point during that night it was time to settle in and I realized that I had left my overnight stuff and pillow out in my car. I needed some outside time anyways so I headed down the hill to my car to get them. Between opening the house door and the car door I started sobbing. It was a pretty good pity cry. It was Christmas. I was surrounded by my family but I felt so alone that it was overwhelming. I don’t remember my exact age at that time (easily 30 or late 20’s) but I had been praying on the way down this hill. Why am I still single God? What exactly IS wrong with me? I cannot go back in there again with everyone and be ok. I cannot do it.

Something caused me to look up in the middle of my little pity party and what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Christmas night skies are somehow different – more magical. They are radiant. That particular night sky was the clearest sky that I have ever seen, with bright twinkle-stars, and in my view was my own breath in the chilly night air.

Perspective…

It was a moment of perspective for me that came from seeing that perfect moment of night sky.

Rewind 2000 years. Granted I am the first person to say that Jesus was most likely born nowhere near December 25th but He was born. According to Luke (http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke%202:8-16&version=NIV) there was a night where the sky lit up and a host of God’s angels appeared to frightened shepherds announcing the birth of His Son.

There was a night where a virgin gave birth to a Son. The same Son years later lived, endured, died, resurrected and lived again.

It’s not just a story.

Perspective… came from seeing my breath in that perfect night’s chilly air and thinking back to that similar quiet night. What a difference one night can make.

Unto us a child was born who would be the Savior of His people.
Somehow with that realization “alone” just slipped away and “loved beyond reason or deserving” came to replace it.

I stood there for quite a while marveling in God’s creation of the night sky and of my own very blessed life. It’s a vivid moment that I can still slip back to.

Merry Christmas!
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests”

—–

Gina Musgrave and I have been friends since the mid 90’s.  We became acquainted as part of a business project.  She is someone I am glad to call a friend.  She has the heart of a saint.

You can follow her on her blog, http://iamginabob.blogspot.com.

Nicholas of Myra: Giving His Life

The Surpirsing True Story Behind the Legend of St. Nicholas

By Ace Collins

(Continued)

A Lifetime of Love

Nicholas’s three trips to the slum pale in comparison with what he did when confronted by the greatest tragedy a child can experience. It was during a time of deep grief that his life’s mission came into focus.

Nicholas was in his mid-teens when his mother and father died, probably the result of plague. The uncle he was named for, a priest, was placed in charge of the grieving boy. As the two prayed for understanding, Nicholas was overcome with a sense of urgency to live out the lessons taught in his own home. He felt the best way to memorialize his parents’ ideals was to take his considerable inheritance, cash it into Roman coins, and give all he had to the poorest families in the region. Satisfied that his act honored his parents as well as his Lord, he then committed himself to study. He felt that if he learned more about God, he could live more like Christ. After being tutored by his uncle, he later attended school in a monastery.

Nicholas probably entered the priesthood before reaching his twenties. The life of the once wealthy young man was now filled with trials. Under emperors Diocletian and Maximian, Christians were hunted and persecuted for ten long years. Those who would not abandon their faith were often tortured or executed. As a church leader, Nicholas was jailed. Yet he saw an opportunity to share the gospel with fellow prisoners and even guards in the rat-infested prisons. Taking inspiration from the letters of Paul, Nicholas encouraged those outside the walls to pray, support the work, and look to the Lord for strength.

After his release, Nicholas was elected bishop of Myra. He oversaw a period of rebuilding: feeding the poor, locating shelter for the homeless, and finding families for those orphaned during the decade-long persecution. He spent a good portion of his day teaching and sharing food and clothing with the children of the poorest families. Because of the gentle way he expressed compassion and love—and because he often was seen carrying a bag filled with candy and gifts—it’s hardly surprising that whenever he ventured out in public, he always seemed to have scores of children clinging to his red robes and following in his footsteps.

Due to Nicholas’s power with local citizens, Roman officials often sought out his advice in matters of state. The influence he gained allowed him to work for the underprivileged and unrepresented poor. Many religious leaders of the day used church funds to provide a lavish lifestyle for themselves, building great homes and purchasing the finest food and clothing; in contrast, Nicholas opted to give the money away. As he traveled through his district, he often dropped coins into the windows of the poorest people or in shoes left on porches. Though his staff knew it was the bishop distributing these gifts, Nicholas did not allow the information to reach the public. Thus, when someone rushed up to him with the news of finding a coin in their home, the bishop smiled and assured them that God had heard their prayers and answered their needs.

Nicholas often inquired of local village officials where he could find those in greatest need. He traveled to the poorest areas, and without announcing his identity, gave away money, food, and clothing—then disappeared before the shocked recipients could thank him. Most had no idea he was a clergyman, and a legend grew that he was an angel dressed in red.

Yet what ultimately made him a legend was his love of children. As he grew older, he used more and more of his funds to purchase gifts for children. Giving toys or candy to little ones, Nicholas told stories of Christ and the gift He had given through His death on the cross. Then, he would add, “Jesus loves little children, and He loves you.” Through these gifts, many began to understand the full measure of their salvation.

As a servant of God, Nicholas saw himself as shepherding a flock of needy and often lost sheep. He dedicated his life to being their voice in a world that seemed to care little about them. Nicholas became a legend of faith as he won battles for the poor, convincing the most powerful leaders of the day to show compassion and help meet their needs.

Nicholas’s acts of service were so great that when he died, others picked up where he left off. Within just a few years, children all over Myra found gifts left in their shoes on his birthday. Over time, the legend of Nicholas of Myra grew; hundreds of churches were christened with his name. Yet this pales in the light of what his compassionate life has come to mean to countless souls each Christmas.

Saint Nicholas didn’t inspire the tradition of Santa Claus by chance; rather, it is a tribute to the spirit of this extraordinary man. Surely, if Nicholas could watch the joy on faces all over the globe at Christmastime, he would be pleased that his lessons of giving are still being taught, and that children everywhere are made to feel especially loved on the day celebrating Christ’s birth. Nicholas spent his life giving away everything given to him, and that spirit of giving continues to this day.

____

Taken from Stories Behind Men of Faith by Ace Collins. ©2009 by Andrew Collins. Used by permission of Zondervan.

Nicholas of Myra: Giving His Life

The Surpirsing True Story Behind the Legend of St. Nicholas

By Ace Collins

The roots of “Santa Claus” are not found in the snows of the North Pole but in the region now known as Turkey. Ancient Christian writings indicate that the real person was a wisp of a man little more than five feet tall. As a cardinal in the early church, Nicholas of Myra would have been seen in flowing red robes, and early Christian art reveals a white beard and balding head. Yet what made this church pioneer a model for the Christmas icon of goodwill was not his physical appearance but rather Nicholas’s giving spirit, great compassion, and unending generosity that inspired a holiday legend now known by billions around the globe.

Nicholas’s exposure to local culture was tempered by his parents—committed Christians who showed their faith not just through their words but also through action. They gave to missionary work and helped feed the poor. They also took Nicholas to church services and enrolled him in theology and history classes. Young Christians were taught The Didache, an early guide to righteous living that asked believers to fully embrace the two greatest commandments: to love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself(Matt. 22:37-40). These lessons had a great impact on Nicholas. As a teen, he shared part of his allowance with poor children who didn’t have enough to eat. Yet the act which really set him apart began with a family friend’s business failure.

A Legend Is Born

The man and his three daughters lost everything and were forced to move to a slum outside the city. In an act of desperation, the penniless father began to negotiate with local brothel owners. He was seeking to sell his oldest daughter into slavery to provide for the two younger children.

When Nicholas became aware of the situation, he felt a call to action. The night before the girl was to be sold, Nicholas went to the family’s home, waited for the lights to go out, and tossed a bag of gold through an open window. He vanished before the father could open the door to see who had provided such a great gift.

Nicholas must have either asked his parents if there was a way they could help, or gone “on mission” at their request. Yet, no matter who suggested the action or provided the funds, this act of kindness was an example of the family’s devotion to Christ’s teachings. And it wouldn’t be just a one-time act of charity.

The money lasted the family more than a year. When it ran out and the father again contemplated selling one of his daughters, another bag of gold was secretly delivered at night. A year later Nicholas returned again, but this time was caught. The father was overcome with emotion when he saw that the person who had provided the lifeline was a boy.

Wiping away tears, he hugged Nicholas and asked, “Why did you give us these gifts?”

The response was direct and simple: “Because you needed them.”

“But why didn’t you let us know who you were?”

“Because it’s good to give [when] only God knows about it.”

Nicholas’s answer would become the foundation for the legend and the form of modest, unrewarded giving still celebrated each Christmas season.

(To be continued…)

So after all those one night stands
You’ve ended up with heart in hand
A child alone
On your own
Retreating

Regretful for the things you’re not
And all the things you haven’t got
Without a home
A heart of stone lies bleeding

And for all the roads you followed
And for all you did not find
And for all the dreams you had to leave behind

I am the way
I am the light
I am the dark inside the night
I hear your hopes
I feel your dreams
And in the dark I hear your screams
Don’t turn away
Just take my hand
And when you make your final stand
I’ll be right there
I’ll never leave
And all I ask of you
Believe

Your childhood eyes were so intense
While bartering your innocence
For bits of string
The grown-up wings you needed

But when you had to add them up
You found that they were not enough
To get you in
And pay for sins
Repeated

And for all the years you borrowed
And for all the tears you hide
And for all the fears you had to keep inside

I am the way
I am the light
I am the dark inside the night
I hear your hopes
I feel your dreams
And in the dark I hear your screams
Don’t turn away
Just take my hand
And when you make your final stand
I’ll be right there
I’ll never leave
And all I ask of you
Believe

I never wanted to know
Never wanted to see
I wasted my time
‘Til time wasted me

I never wanted to go
Always wanted to stay
‘Cause the person I am
Are the parts that I play

So I plot and I plan
Hope and I scheme
To the lure of a night
Filled with unfinished dreams

And I’m holding on tight
To a world gone astray
As they charge me for years
I can’t pay
Yeah

I am the way
I am the light
I am the dark inside the night
I hear your hopes
I feel your dreams
And in the dark I hear your screams
Don’t turn away
Just take my hand
And when you make your final stand
I’ll be right there
I’ll never leave
And all I ask of you
Believe

© 2009 – Trans-Siberian Orchestra as featured on the album, “Night Castle”.

by
Tom Krause

"Is there a purpose? Why are we here?"
A little boy asked as the yuletide drew near.
"I really do hope that someday I will know
the reason we stand out here in the snow,
ringing this bell as people walk by,
while thousands of snowflakes
descend from the sky."

The mother just smiled at her shivering son
who would rather be playing and having some fun
but soon would discover before evening was done
the meaning of Christmas
the very first one.

The young boy exclaimed, "Mother where does it go?"
"All the pennies we collect – every year in the snow."
"Why do we do it? Why do we care?"
"We worked for these pennies,
so why should we share?"

"Because once a baby – so meek and so mild
was born in a manger – so humble the child
the son of a King – was born in this way
to give us the message
He carried that day.

"The present God gave the world on that night,
was the gift of his son to make everything right.
Why did he do it? Why did he care?
To teach about loving
and how we should share."

"The meaning of Christmas, you see my dear son,
is not about presents or just having fun
but the gift of a father – his own precious Son
so the world would be saved
when his work was all done"

Now the little boy smiled – with a tear in his eye
as snowflakes kept falling from out of the sky –
rang louder the bell as the people walked by
while down deep in his heart
at last he knew why.

Copyright © Tom Krause 2003.

Well, since I have run out of available stories, I think I’ll share one myself!

Since I was a young guy, I have always loved Christmas.  The excitement and anticipation is always the thrill for me.  Even when Christmas giving was lean, it still meant a lot to me.

The perfect Christmas memory happens to me every year.

I’ll be outside, breathing in the cold Christmas Eve air.  I’ll look up at the sky and see the myriad of stars that blankets the night’s canvas.  I’ll smell the smell of wood burning in the fireplaces nearby.  I’ll take a deep breath in and smile.  Why?

• For one brief moment, my world stands still.
• For one brief moment, the whole world begins to slow down and reflect.
• For one brief moment, most anyone who celebrates the holiday starts thinking of someone besides themselves.
• For one brief moment, peace fills the night.

Every Christmas Eve, it’s always the same for me.  I enjoy the fact that the world stops turning and becomes peaceful and kind all at once.

Just a simple reflection from a romantic (so my wife says)…

May your Christmas bring you peace, love and happiness.

From my house to yours.

Merry Christmas my friends!

I have no other stories to post, so I thought I’d post another charity that I think the world of…

Please support it if you can this holiday season!

All children should have a Christmas…

This one was forwarded to me by a friend.  I thought it painted a beautiful picture in my mind.  The sound of “Silent Night” ringing through the silence on Christmas Eve.  Thanks for the contribution, Bob.

Each year, on December 24, a special passenger train pulled by a bright red electric locomotive heads out of the train station in Salzburg for a half hour trip to the village of Oberndorf. A multitude of languages can be heard as passengers from all over the globe become Christmas pilgrims, heading for the birthplace of the world’s best loved Christmas carol "Silent Night."

At the same time, the Oberndorf streets are crowded with cars bearing license plates from neighboring European Churches can be seen across the nations and filled with people who have raced along the autobahns to arrive in time for the special Christmas Eve "Silent Night" twilight service.

Throughout the world, "Silent Night" which has been translated into more than 200 languages, is an anchor for Christmas celebrations. Its lullaby-like melody and simple message of heavenly peace can be heard from small town street corners in mid-America to magnificent cathedrals in Europe and from outdoor candlelight concerts in Australia to palm thatched huts in northern Peru. The original church of St. Nicholas where "Silent Night" was first heard in 1818 was torn down in the early part of this century after sustaining damage from the flooding of the nearby Salzach River. The Silent Night Chapel was erected on the spot in front of the main altar where Gruber and Mohr stood with the choir to sing the six-stanza carol. In a higher section of town, another church was built and the original pulpit and altars from the old church were moved there. At Christmas Midnight Mass, singers stand in front of the same altars and recreate the moment when the song heard ’round the world was first performed.

When my son Eric was a little boy his grandfather, my dad, would wake up on Christmas  morning around five o’clock, dress like Santa Clause and show up at our house at five thirty walk in the back door and put presents under our tree. I would wake Eric up out of a dead sleep take him into the living room and while rubbing his eyes he would see Santa Clause putting presents under the tree. Then dad would sneak out the back door take the Santa Clause suit off come back in and then we would open our presents.

My dad loved doing that for him so much so that he would plan for weeks on how to time his arrival and how to get Eric out of bed just at the right time.

My dad loved Eric so much. My dad is gone now but every Christmas I smile and remember how dad would get so excited about letting Eric see Santa Clause.

Just a reminder to take time to make memories with your children. Time goes by so fast.

And oh yes………..have a very Merry Christmas!

—-

I’ve known this lady virtually all of my life… 

(My mom..)

I can’t put into words how to describe my feelings for her.  Other than “I Love You” and “Thank You” from the bottom of my heart…

The Cat Came Back

About 10 years ago, when my daughter Ali was five years old, we had an orange and white  striped cat named Claude. I wanted to call him Monet, but he acted much more like a "Claude." So it stuck. Claude loved to roam the neighborhood–especially when we went for walks around the neighborhood lake. He would follow us like a dog. He was such a good-natured cat, he even let my girl dress him up in doll clothes and push him around the block; or bury him up to his neck in sand at the lake. Anything for attention.

That year, around Thanksgiving, Claude turned up missing. He roamed the neighborhood freely, but always came back home at night. That Thanksgiving week, he didn’t. We put up posters, talked to our neighbors, and I called the local shelter. Claude was very easy to distinguish from other orange and white cats because his left ear was crinkled from a medical treatment I had just paid a fortune for, of course, right before he went missing.

The weeks went by, and Christmas was getting closer, and Ali, kept asking, "Mom, when is Claude coming back?" I told her I just didn’t know, but I was sure he was off having a good time somewhere. As the nights were getting colder, as they do in Northeast Ohio around this time of year, I was more than a little worried about our Claude, who had been a member of the family for several years at this point.

Finally, Christmas eve was upon us. As I bustled around in the kitchen, the phone rang–an unfamiliar number. I answered, not imagining our own Christmas miracle was about to happen. It was the local animal shelter–they had Claude! His crinkled left ear had given him away when a woman brought him in that morning. We raced to the shelter before they closed for the holiday–and there was Claude, a skinnier version of himself, but very happy to see us! Ali bundled him in his cozy blanket and he meowed and purred the whole way home. None of Santa’s gifts the next morning were as special as the gift of the return of Claude to our family that Christmas eve night.

This Christmas we’re without Claude. He was 19 years old when he left our family for the last time. But that Christmas memory will be with us all of our lives.

Renée DeLuca

—–

Renee and I have met, like many of my friends, through Twitter…  I think the world of her and am glad our paths have crossed.  She has become a great friend, indeed.

You can follow @ReneeDeLuca here.

Also you may support her Siplada Jewelry business here…