The Night the Sky Sang by Lorrie Orr

 

December is a month filled with story, the story of God reaching down in love. This month’s prompt asks you to share a story about Christmas. It can be funny, poignant, sad, or inspirational.

The Night the Sky Sang

I know what people think about shepherds. Crude, smelly, and not very intellectual. Our lives are ordinary, even tedious. It's hot in the daytime and cold at night. Sheep are stupid animals - they get themselves into a lot of trouble if there's no one watching them. You can't be a shepherd and be lazy. It might not take much education, but it does take skill and perseverance. We shepherds usually work as a team and keep an eye out for each other's sheep. It's more efficient. 

I like the nights best of all. We find a bit of shelter from the wind, perhaps against a big rock, and build a fire. There's conversation. Mixed in with the chitchat some serious debate goes on. Philosophy, you might call it. Life, love, and politics. On such a night my life changed. 

The fire was dying down. I lay on my back, wrapped in my cloak, watching the stars. How far away they looked, and how beautiful. Conversation dwindled to silence. My eyelids sagged, weighted by sleep. Then, blinding light. I awoke with a start. From out of nowhere appeared this glowing being. I know it was an angel, but to this day I can't completely describe it. I jumped to my feet along with the other shepherds. Then I cowered in fear. I was certain I would be struck dead. Instead, I heard a voice say, 

"Don't be afraid. Listen to me. I have good news for you."

The angel went on to tell us about the birth of a baby, a Saviour, the Saviour we had been waiting for. He said it was news of great joy for the whole world. Before I had time to really think about his words, the sky filled with more angels, and music. It was as if the stars and angels whirled and danced together in a vast chorus of light and sound.

The sight tore at my heart and caused such an ache of longing deep inside that I clutched my hands to my chest. The song was perfect, the most perfect thing I'd ever heard. It made me long to join them, to raise my cracked warble in the same harmony of praise to Almighty God. Tears ran down my skin, and I knew the message of the angels was for me. God was sending his son into my stinky, dirty world.

Then just as suddenly as they came, the angels left. The stars had hardly changed position. The small fire still burned low. Everything was the same, and everything was different. We stood there, our hearts thumping wildly. 

"Did you see...?"

"Could it be?"

"Let's go!"

The angel had told us where to find the baby, and we stumbled over rocks and tufts of grass in our eagerness to get there. We stood outside the stable, hesitant for a moment. A man appeared, tired, with a puzzled look on his face. None of us knew what to say to him. Then Jethro stepped forward.

"Please," he said, "we want to see the Saviour, the baby."

And then we all spoke at once, blurting out words about angels and music. The man smiled slightly, then beckoned us to enter.

My eyes were drawn to the baby, so helpless, lying in a manger. His mother watched us carefully but said nothing as we crowded nearer. I even dared to reach out and touch his soft, tiny head with my rough fingers. 

We left soon after, seeing the fatigue on the young mother's face. I knew that I couldn't keep this news to myself. It was too wonderful, too amazing. I told everyone I met about the baby. And then, I went back to the sheep, to the hillside and the night fires, but I wasn't the same person inside.

God, who lived beyond the stars, was suddenly close. That night I caught a glimpse of him. Now when I go to the Temple and hear the priests' monotone reading of the glory of God, I think back and even now, my breath catches in my throat. 

            

           Lorrie Orr loves Christmas and is so glad for the gift of Immanuel, God with us. She writes from Victoria, BC, where she always hopes for a bit snow in winter, but celebrates whatever the weather. More of her writing can be found at her blog, Fabric Paper Thread, and on Substack, where she is posting excerpts from her memoir, Life is Short but Wide.  

            

Wonder is More than a Word by Alan Anderson

 

The word “wonder” came to my mind for this post. I mulled it over and determined to present more than a mere dictionary definition of wonder.

Wonder is everywhere. Throughout life, there are people, times, events, scenes, etc. used to spark life in our sense of wonder. These experiences take our breath away, fill us with praise, and drive us to improve our craft as writers.

This sense of wonder is a curiosity about something we want to nurture. There are sources of inspiration in life that fill me with wonder. This inspiration is what I always hope to nurture through my writing. Please indulge me as I present ideas of how I see wonder.

 

Wonder in Another’s World

One of my granddaughters was born with multiple health challenges. Her name is Whitney. When she was two years old, medical professionals concluded she lives “in her own world.” A simple way to explain this is, not everyone she meets will form a close relationship with her. She decides, in her own way, whom she will welcome into her world. She allowed me into her world when she was an infant. This fills me with wonder to this day.

My relationship with my granddaughter is one of seeing wonder in the simple things in life. For instance, Whitney can enjoy playing with her stuffed toys every day. She never becomes tired of watching animation adventures on her iPad. She walks around her bedroom with a photograph of my parents, whom she never met, and talks to them in her simple language other people can’t understand. When she is outside, she looks up at the sky with her hands raised, as if reaching up to heaven.

Whitney shows me wonder in another world! She has taught me to seek wonder in everyday life.

 

Wonder in Walks

The dike a few minutes from where I live is a gateway to inspiration and word pictures for this writer. Sun rays of summer fade to be replaced by an autumn overcast of misty clouds. Within a few minutes on my walk, birds, such as finches, chickadees, and thrushes, fly from trees and add colourful life to the sky. I welcome the clouds and birds as I thank God for His creation.

I remember a walk on a beach on Vancouver Island a few years ago. I loved the crunch sound the small pebbles coating the beach made with every step. A sight I discovered piqued my sense of wonder. Small, colourful flowers had pushed their way through the rocks, sand, and pebbles. In this, I saw an illustration of tenacity, the value of never giving up.

 

Through such experiences, words in my head trip over each other as they begin to gather and anticipate being sent into the world. They want to encourage readers to walk in wonder. Walk along riverbanks and feel the cool autumn breeze as it floats across the water and brushes one’s uncovered cheeks. Such experiences leave me to want more.

 

Wonder in Our Words

Dear writer friends, never quit on your world of wonder and words. Words you pray over and send into the world. Like precious seeds of sweet-smelling flowers, scatter your words into the landscape of the souls of your readers. Like a lovely flower poking its way through sand and beach pebbles, persevere. Have faith your words, once settled in the hearts of your readers, will grow as strong as oak trees and strengthen the faith of people in need of hope.

A Question

My friends, what fills you with a sense of wonder? 

 

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home with trees all around, where he finds inspiration for his writing. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan is the new BC/Northern Regional Rep. for InScribe. His website is https://scarredjoy.ca.

V is For Vision by Bob Jones

Vision is taken for granted until you lose it. And then everything comes into focus.

 

I suffered a full retinal detachment in May 2020. Saturday morning, my first day off in weeks. When the vision in my right started to diminish as a green colour seeped in from the side, I dismissed it as something that would pass. There was no pain. No visible signs of trauma. Why worry?

 

Monday morning at my ophthalmologist’s office was the first step to recovery from a full retinal detachment. Two surgeries, six months of recovery later, I was informed the nerve damage was so great I would not regain my sight. 85% of retinal surgeries in Alberta are successful. Mine was in the other group.

 

The surgeon gave me a stern warning that the next time I had any symptoms of a retinal detachment I should immediately get to the clinic.

 

That day came on October 1^st.

 

Late in the evening, my good eye started to experience colours and flashes of light. Anxious, but calmly, I told my wife what was happening. She packed us up in record time and drove us from our lakeside cabin to Edmonton.

 

My first reaction was, “I can’t go blind. I’m only 70. I’ve got so many more things to do.”

 

A retinal migraine. Have you heard of that? Me neither. But that was the diagnosis. My good eye is still 20:20. Rest required.

 

Thank God for sight. And mercy.

 

Blindness is not the end of life or function, but sight is so much better for living.

 

When vision is threatened, everything comes into focus. And even with half sight, you can still see the whole world. And sometimes better. You see clearly what really matters.

 

It’s easy for our vision to be distracted by catchy but unimportant things.

 

It’s the same with a writing vision.

 

Whether yours is a book or a blog, a poem or a screen play, you have your sights set on what you want to accomplish through your writing. That vision gets you through discouragement, setbacks, rejection, and disillusionment. Vision is everything.

 

R.J. Palacio has a vision for writing. She contributed a series of books on kindness to the literary realm. And her writing is moving. It provokes thinking  ignites emotion, and changes behaviour. Have you read her books, Wonder, or White Bird?
 

A writing vision is powerful.

 

In my role as a church coach, I remind pastors that vision raises money. People functionally give out of obedience in stewardship but they give passionately and generously because of vision. Vision, not budget, creates provision.

 

My vision for writing is to be a hope dispenser. I write to give hope to readers. And to other writers.

 

What is your vision? Please leave a comment below. Thank you.

 

Bob writes about hope at REVwords.

 

The Wonder of Immanuel, God with Us by Steph Beth Nickel

Wonder…

In the eyes of a child.

In the lyrics of a much-loved Christmas carol.

In the She Reads Truth Advent study.

But…

Is there wonder in my heart?

Is Jesus the focus of my days?

Am I captivated by His sacrifice?

Too often, this is not the case.

Why?

Familiarity too often diminishes the wonder of the season.

Busyness too often consumes my thoughts.

Distractions too often vie for my attention.

What can I do to allow the wonder of the season—and God’s never-ending presence—to sink in and motivate my words and actions?

Commit each task to the Lord.

Focus on the task at hand.

Embrace the quiet.

Meditate on God’s Word.

Commit portions of it to memory.

Fellowship with brothers and sisters in Christ.

Share the wonder with those God’s brings across my path.

How can I embrace the wonder long-term?

Soak in the Truth.

Continue to develop a heart of gratitude.

Be more cognizant of how I spend my time.

Examine my motives for the things I do.

Seek to do everything as unto the Lord.

Make Him known.

Pray more…much more!

Questions for Consideration

Is this time of year filled with wonder or overwhelm?

What one step can you take to increase your sense of wonder this Christmas season?

How will you continue to develop a sense of wonder in the new year?

Seeing Things Differently by Steph Beth Nickel

It's so easy to go through life on fast forward and miss the wonder all around. And at this time of year, if you do take the time to slow down, the biting cold, the blowing snow, and the overcast skies may get you down. We must choose to see things differently, to focus on the beauty in the midst of it all.

I love to take pictures. There's nothing that cheers my heart like going for a photo walk and looking at life through the lens of my camera.

God created an amazing world. And Romans 1:20 says, "For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made" (ESV). Amazing!

Below are some of the pictures I took in years gone by (when we had far more snow). What warms your heart when the cold winds blow? What have you learned about God from His creation?