My Little Children by Alan Anderson

"...whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away" (James 4:14 NKJV).

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdon of heaven belongs to such as these" (Matthew 19:14).


 As I write this post it is a cold and dark evening outside.  My wife and I are sitting together watching a new Christmas movie on TV.  Well, I guess I should say I'm semi-watching the movie!  I'm doing some writing at the same time.  Our young poodle Charlie, is being a brat and teasing us in his own mischievous way.  He is a nice companion!


At this time of year my mind bounces from the joy of the birth of Jesus to the cries of parents who grieve the absence of little ones they looked forward to.  Many of us may be aware Christmas brings a sense of someone missing in a deep way for some people.  I'm one of them!


There are particularly poignant memories that habitually visit my mind and heart.  They are a continual prompt for the tone of my writing.  These memories will never fail to be reminders of the frailty and vulnerability of life.  Life indeed, is but a vapor!


My wife and I love our six grandchildren.  Their giggles and laughter help strengthen the beats of our hearts.  Their personalities are vastly different from child to child.  Each one is unique.  Each one is loved beyond measure!  Lord willing, we will see them all during Christmas when we gather as a family.


We are also grandparents to four grandchildren in heaven!  Our little ones who were never born!  Our family looked forward to the births of these children.  Their parents especially anticipated a growing family.  Like a vapor their lives vanished away!  Hearts were broken.  Life changed!


I haven't read of too many articles or books etc. written from the persepctive of grandparents regarding pregnancy "loss".  Perhaps I can help change that!  We feel the deep pain of our children as they grieve.  We also live with the pain of our loss.  Even at times like Christmas when grandkids do fun things as sit on Santa's lap, grandparennts can feel such loss.


Dads often feel they have to "fix" things for their children.  I cannot fix this!  I cannot take away the sorrow my children experienced when they found out their babies would not be born.  I can, however, love them!


As a grandfather I cling to the anticipated memories I had of these children being part of my life.  They would have called my wife and I, Mie Mie and Papa, just like our other grandchildren!  I must admit I wept each time when I heard the news they would not be!  They were not mere embryos or blobs of flesh.  They were my grandchildren.  They still are!


In my memories these children have not vanished away.  They live in my heart.  They live also where Jesus lives!  Saying such things may sound fat fetched to some readers.  Perhaps some are surprised a man would express such a belief and emotion.


Children who are not granted physical birth do not cease to exist.  They are not "miscarriages"!  They are not really lost!  This is a belief of hope found in the One who came to earth and was born as a baby.  The One who loves children!
















Personal Blog (still being developed): scarredjoy@wordpress.com



 

The Advent-ure of Love …. by Jocelyn Faire

If, as Herod, we fill our lives with things, and again with things; if we consider ourselves so unimportant that we must fill every moment of our lives with action, when will we have the time to make the long, slow journey across the desert as did the Magi? Or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds? Or brood over the coming of the child as did Mary? For each one of us, there is a desert to travel. A star to discover. And a being within ourselves to bring to life.  (Anonymous, but quoted by Sarah Ban Breathnach in Simple Abundance)

“What does it feel like to be loved?”

The question is asked of my daughter who lives with her husband and three small children in a N African Islamic country. The lady who poses the question is heavy with her third child. Last December I joined my daughter to invite neighbours to attend a Ladies event to experience the flavour of a Canadian Christmas. In that country they do not celebrate December 25th, they do not get caught up in ribbons and bows, in getting the right turkey, the right gifts … they do that for other cultural events. As we spread the word about the party, one of the ladies said “everyone wants to be at her house.” It is a house of welcome, a safe house of light and love. This year, I could not be there and encouraged my daughter in whatever way I

could, mainly prayer from wintery Canada. She is eight hours ahead, so it was early Friday afternoon that the first details came through: “a house full of women, rich conversation, laughter, fun, food.” Via WhatsApp she said “And one pregnant woman who did not have the two dinars (about a dollar) for a taxi ride, walked seven kilometres to come.”  I was moved to tears as I read. That woman walked seven kms because she felt loved and accepted by my daughter. My daughter does not preach, she invests herself into their lives … she cares, she also gives this woman a ride home.

What does it feel like to be loved? Three weeks ago, I heard a fable by Max Lucado. This is now my retelling of his telling … As the prince rode throughout the land, he took note of a peasant woman, he fell in love with her … he proposed marriage. She wanted to refuse … how could he love her, he lived in a castle, she was just a common woman. He insisted that He loved her for who she was, and he wanted to marry her. She still responded in doubt, but as he seemed quite persistent, she said,  she could cook and clean for him, and bear his children … He said, “I do not want you because you can cook and clean, and bear children. I want you to be my wife because I love you” …. They married; she cooked and cleaned and bore his children, but somehow she never trusted his love. In the end she left him, and said to one of her friends, “I never really felt that he loved me.”  

Something stirred my heart at this story, as I have often wondered if God, who says He is

love, could love me? What does it feel like to be loved by the creator of the universe? I have learned that grief does not feel like love …. but the question hangs in the air. Do actions speak louder than words? I do believe that Christmas is Love in Action.

How will I spend the final advent hours? May I take time to feel the desert wind, to gaze at a star and to ponder the birth of new understanding. The final word is Immanuel, God with us, through each season of life, through the longing and the filling, in the journey through the desert. 

Why settle for tinsel, when we are offered the kingdom? 

Read about The Advent-ures of Hope, Joy, Peace on Jocelyn's blog at:

http://whoistalking.wordpress.com

Jocelyn is the author of Who is Talking out of My Head-Grief as an out of Body Experience. 

candle image by www.drew-fuller.com

Ring Those Christmas Bells - by Joylene M. Bailey

I love Christmas carols. I love how, for about 6 weeks of the year, believers and non-believers alike are singing praises and glo-o-o-o-o-oooo-o-o-o-o-oooo-o-o-o-o-ooorias.

Secular radio stations are dashing through the snow to deck the halls, asking Santa Baby for yachts and diamond rings, and wondering how on earth Grandma could get run over by a reindeer. 

But they are also proclaiming Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing, ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing.

                                           And

O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth! And praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth.

And

O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.

Even Charlie Brown sings “Glory to the newborn King”!

What kind of weird and wonderful world IS this?? That Christ’s name should be heard and sung by people who haven’t yet grasped the miraculous idea of God’s precious life-giving, soul-saving gift.

It makes me wonder as I wander, and giggle like a babe in Toyland.

Yet some could say that it isn’t the most wonderful time of the year, 2015. It’s not a yum-yummy world made for sweethearts. They would agree with Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s words, “There is no peace on earth, I said”.

 When Longfellow penned the words to his poem “Christmas Bells” on December 25, 1864, he was still grieving the death of his wife, Fanny. She had been fatally burned in an accident 3 years before, on the very same day that the first shot of the American Civil War was fired. In 1862 his journal entry for Christmas Day reads, “ ‘A merry Christmas’ say the children, but that is no more for me.”

In 1863 he learned that his oldest son, Charles, had been severely wounded in battle.

So in 1864, Longfellow’s world was not at peace either, and hadn’t been for years. What’s more, he had been personally affected by the war.  

He wrote seven stanzas to his poem that Christmas Day in 1864. Two of them are never sung in our version of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” but I think they are important to include because they give us a good idea of Longfellow’s world, which strikingly parallels our own. They help us to understand why he said, “there is no peace on earth”, and to remind us that “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep”.

In our writers group this month we were challenged to write a new verse to a favourite Christmas carol. 

(I encourage my fellow Inscribers to try this fun exercise.)

The words “there is no peace on earth, I said” resonated so much with me that I did some research on the song and then added my own verse at the end – my proclamation in response to the stanzas before it.

Christmas Bells


(Longfellow’s original poem, complete with all seven stanzas, and an extra one added at the end by Joylene M. Bailey)



I heard the bells on Christmas Day


Their old familiar carols play,


And wild and sweet


The words repeat


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!




 

And thought how, as the day had come,


The belfries of all Christendom


Had rolled along


The unbroken song


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!




Till, ringing, singing on its way,


The world revolved from night to day,


A voice, a chime


A chant sublime


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!




Then from each black accursed mouth


The cannon thundered in the South,


And with the sound


The carols drowned


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!




It was as if an earthquake rent


The hearth-stones of a continent,


And made forlorn


The households born


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!




And in despair I bowed my head;


"There is no peace on earth," I said;


"For hate is strong,


And mocks the song


Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"




Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 


"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!


The Wrong shall fail,


The Right prevail,


With peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Now let me gather up my faith.

My God’s at work; His love is great.

Loud let bells ring,

And I will sing,

Of Peace on earth, good-will to men!

God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. He’s still at work. He’s still Love. He’s still in charge.

So rest ye merry, Inscribers, let nothing you dismay. Remember, Christ, our Saviour, was born upon this day: to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray.

O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy.

O tidings of comfort and joy.

Victorian Carolers

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/10199807@N00/5198987752">Holland Christmas Open House</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">(license)</a>

Charlie brown

http://thefw.com/files/2011/12/a-charlie-brown-christmas1.jpg

Longfellow

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/28567825@N03/3429414720">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">(license)</a>

Carolers

http://o.aolcdn.com/photo-hub/news_gallery/6/9/695353/1290190475673.JPEG

My Christmas Wish List - Gloria Guest

When we were children my sisters and I waited with anticipation every year for the Sears Christmas Wish Book to arrive. We would then spend hours poring over the toy section choosing our favorite toys and what would finally end scribbled on our wish list for Christmas.

We never received everything on our lists but mom always managed to get us one of our favorites near the top of the list. I no longer remember the things on my lists that I never received. Even at a young age I was aware that mom had sacrificed and created some sort of miracle for me to have the special toy I did get. Mom’s choice was always perfect.

As an adult my Christmas wish list no longer comes from the Sears catalogue but instead it comes from my heart.

This Christmas of 2015 I wish

-that my family will be happy, healthy and blessed

-that all of our problems will have perfect solutions

-that there will be no unresolved, painful conflict in our extended families

-that there will be peace in my heart, my family’s hearts, in our communities, country and in the world

My list could go on but I figure that there are some pretty big items on that list.  Just as I used to hand my mother my Christmas wish list, I now hand my list over to God. God is perfectly capable of providing for every last desire but He knows best just what I need. If He chooses to leave something off my list I can relax knowing that there is a reason and enjoy what He did give me. This Christmas I am very happy that my family is all happy, healthy and blessed. I’ve received my top of the list wish!

I doubt all of our problems will have perfect solutions or at least not the kind I expect. And there are some ongoing conflicts in our extended families that aren’t going to disappear. Instead God has asked us to hope and persevere with those things throughout another year.

As for peace he promises to fill my heart with as much of it as I have room for. That is a work in progress. From that place God wants me to share with my community, country and the world. One way I do that is with my writing. This past year I was given some gifts in my writing life that I wasn’t expecting; a chance to start a Creative Writing class through the University of Toronto has expanded my knowledge and given me a thirst for more; meeting new people through Inscribe both on line and through the fall conference was another surprise gift that has been a huge encouragement. 

God always gives the best gifts; the best surprises. Many Christmas’s ago He sent His Son Jesus. Everything else on my list somehow falls away when I unwrap that One. God sacrificed everything to create a miracle for me not just on Christmas day but every day. God’s choice is always perfect.