Star of Wonder by Lynn J Simpson

My radio is dialed just slightly to the left of my regular listening station. It's the never-ending stream of Christmas music on my regular station that makes me move that dial in this December month. You can guess that I am not very popular among many of my friends who absolutely love Christmas Carols.  I, instead of listening to the constant music of the season, have tuned into a different radio station with the stories of the down-home life interrupted very occasionally with the odd Christmas carol song by a popular country/western artist. That I can take. 

Yet, recently I found myself swaying in the pew at my granddaughter's elementary school Christmas concert. I couldn't hold still as the bell choir perfectly rang out Silent Night, and when my granddaughter's class sang a traditional carol in Spanish that I cannot recall the name of at this moment. Regardless, it was beautiful. 

And I wondered, while listening to these young voices, what happened to that excitement, that magic I once felt at Christmas and especially toward Christmas songs?

And then it happened. 

A stirring I hadn't felt in a long time. My heart did not grow four times as big as the Grinch, but it sure beat faster and tears started to swim in my eyes.

The grade 6 classes had assembled in their choir formation and began to hum a carol that drew images and memories to my mind, bringing back the excited spirit of a young girl on Christmas Eve. And then they sung the words...

Said the night wind to the little lamb,

do you see what I see
Way up in the sky, little lamb,
do you see what I see
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite

(Do You Hear What I Hear?)

See for me it wasn't the waiting of Santa that brought me excitement on Christmas Eve. It instead was The Star. The Star that I believed only appeared on this magical night.  I would crawl out of my covers, once my mom tucked me in and the lights were out, get on my knees on my bed, open my curtains and stare into the sky. And see it! Yes, I would see The Star, and imagine what it must have been like for those shepherds that special night. And for the kings traveling afar to meet the truest King of all!

How exciting and magical that must have been for those shepherds and kings that night!

Can you imagine it? 

O Star of wonder, star of night

Star of royal beauty bright

Westward leading, still proceeding

Guide us to thy Perfect Light

(We Three Kings of Orient Are)

Wow! What a night that must have been, following a star to the Perfect Light!

Maybe I will turn my radio dial to the right just in case that station plays my Star songs in these last weeks of December. 

For sure though, I will be looking up with wonder in the skies for a Star this Christmas Eve again. And with a deep knowing that even though I may not see it as the Star, I know that Perfect Light is with me, day and night. 

Lynn J Simpson

God's Loving Dream for Me by Sharon Espeseth

God has always known me. As my creator, he says, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." (Jeremiah 1: 4-5 NIV)

I'm getting used to recognizing myself as a writer, but I hesitated to call myself a prophet. Recently, however, I read a column by John Connelly in Western Catholic Reporter reminding us that God has "appointed us to be a prophetic people. A people who shine the light on truth in the darkness of our times." Hmm, I thought, that does shed a different light on the matter.

There is a lot of darkness out there and Jesus pointed out the futility of lighting a lamp and putting it under a bowl. Instead we are to put our lamp on a stand, so "it gives light to everyone in the house."

God loved me from the beginning. Sometimes I need the visual of God literally knitting me together in my mother's womb. While knitting, God implanted dreams and gifts that he intended me to explore and use to his honour and glory. One of those dreams was writing.


At particular points in my life I've had glimpses of God's dream for me, but I've then let everyday distractions crowd these dreams out like weeds can crowd out flowers in my flowerbeds. Eventually, untended, the flowers in my garden become indistinguishable from the weeds. That's when it's time to do some serious weeding to get rid of those detractors, so I can once again see the dreams God has knitted into my being.

To do this I need to spend quality time with my maker. I need to be still and know that he is God. Being present, listening, sharing, respecting, honouring, adoring, praising, submitting: these are the protocol of love. In these days of independence, rights, freedom, and equality, submission is not a popular concept.

In My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers reminds us that even Christ "never spoke of his right to himself, but always maintained an inner vigilance to submit His spirit continually to his Father." Christ provided an example of how we must attune ourselves to God's Spirit. Knowing God has created our inmost beings, would it not be wiser and more effective to give our loving heavenly father "elbow room" to work in our lives.

Pray with me: Dear Lord, like David the psalmist, may we humbly and frequently ask you to examine our ways. May we give you room to work in and through us so our lives and our writing may say what you want us to say.