Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Christmas light

As I drive through town and enjoy the splendor of all of the Christmas lights this year, I think about the light of Christ. Isaiah tells us of a new day coming (Isaiah 9). 

Verse 2 explains: Before, the people lived in darkness, but they had seen a great light. Those were troubling times in the lands of Zebulun and Naphtali. At that time, the Jews were living in a nightmare. Centuries of hostile forces had laid their precious land to ruin. They had nothing left except for the hope to which they had clung to for centuries - hope for a Rescuer, for a Savior, for a loving and forgiving One.



Verse 6: Unto us a child is born; God has given a child to us. He will be responsible for leading the people. His name will be Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Believers get to look for the light of Christ shining through the darkness. Our Savior will always be with us, we will never be forsaken. 

This brings me to John 3:16: God so loved the world that God gave God's one and only Son so that whoever believes may not be lost, but have eternal life. Jesus came to shine the light of God's love on the world and to save us from our sins. 
Like a flashlight with fresh batteries illuminating an otherwise dark room, Christ's light offers brilliant clarity to lives in need. His light brings comfort and confidence. So as we see all of the Christmas lights, let them be a reminder of the light of Christ. The light has come into the world. All is calm, all is bright!

Adrian Blackwell, Councilman, City of Eldridge, is a member at St. Paul Lutheran Church

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Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Christmas anticipation

On Christmas Eve, I love the brisk walk out of church, followed by the shivering requests that the heat be turned on in the car. Watching the snow fall on the car window, my heart swells with joy and I think about how wonderful it is to hear the same Christmas songs every year. I feel like a small child, wanting so badly for it to be Christmas morning.

Marah Tews
At home, setting the nativity scene, I think about what happened on Christmas Eve long ago. With great care, we put all of the nativity figurines in their places. A note on the wall calendar reminds us which sister is the lucky one to put Baby Jesus in his crib on Christmas morning.

The morning of, I can hardly eat breakfast because of the excitement of the Christmas spirit. As the day goes on, I grow even more grateful for my family and friends, especially as we make phone calls to those whose presence we miss so much.

On Christmas day, we remember that God gave us God's son, Jesus Christ, and all of the people we hold dear. I like to think of Christmas as a time to strengthen relationships with God and with family and friends. It is why, when Christmas is over, I can hardly wait for next year.

Marah Tews is a sophomore at Pleasant Valley High School.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Station wagon trip

My father served in the Navy, and as a result, I spent my childhood years moving from place to place. Visiting our grandparents and extended family back in Ohio required long road trips. My brothers, sister, and I were not only excited about seeing our relatives, but we also looked forward with great anticipation to the bounty of such a trip: bologna and cheese sandwiches packed in the cooler, actual cans of soda pop, and my mother's monkey bread. 

Deb and her family
Before mini-vans and SUVs, the station wagon was the family vehicle of choice. Seat belts were not yet a safety feature, so we hopped seat-to-seat and fought to be the lucky ones in the back. One particular trip remains a vivid memory for me. 

We were driving from California to Ohio, and it was well past midnight. My father (for reasons I later understood when I became a parent) wanted to drive through the night as my four younger siblings and mother slept. Being the night owl and not often having dad to myself, I climbed over the back seat and made my way to the front bench to "help" him drive. 

Oh, the joy of being the privileged one to sit in the front seat! The brilliance of the night sky created a glow that led us down the highway. The wind quietly whistled past the windows. We softly sang along to the radio as I snuggled into the warmth of my father's strong arm. The miles flew by. The serenity, comfort, and love from my father in that old station wagon that night keeps me wrapped in his arms to this day.

God wraps us up just the same through the gift of a son, this true light in the world. God wraps us in God's arms, bringing serenity, comfort, and love through Jesus Christ, all of our days.


Deb Kretschmer is a daughter, wife, mother, teacher.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

A first prayer

Four years ago, our household was filled with excitement as our family planned to gather together for the first time since our two grandchildren were born. The little ones would meet their aunts, uncles, and cousin for the very first time. Our youngest daughter and her husband were expecting twins so that added even more anticipation to the gathering. It was going to be magnificent! 

Everything was set. The menus were chosen, the Christmas Eve worship time selected. We couldn't wait to talk, laugh, and reconnect with each other. 

Olivia and Benjamin
But...the twins decided to arrive early and add to the excitement - three days before Christmas. The medical personnel quickly moved them to the NICU as a precautionary measure. Our festivities took on a somewhat muted tone, as all were concerned about the newborn babies.

Olivia was ready to leave the hospital after four days. Benjamin needed to stay a bit longer.

One evening, while I held Benjamin in the hospital - bundled warmly in a blanket, IV tubes and temperature leads dangling - I watched all the lights blinking and listened to the beeps from the equipment monitoring his vital signs. 

And then I thought of the Christmas story, of Mary and Joseph riding to Bethlehem on a donkey, finding no room at the inn, giving birth to Jesus in a stable. And although Mary had been assured that she had found favor with God, how worrisome it must have been.

I wondered what it must have been like for them.

As I pondered these thoughts, my grandson became a bit restless, his tiny fingers grasped the tip of my pinky finger and, as tears came to my eyes, we had our first prayer together, thanking God for all of our blessings.

Today, Benjamin and Olivia turn 4 years old.

Jim Bush is a retired pharmaceutical clinical education manager.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

O Antiphons

It gets dark here in the winter, but even as the grip of the cold and dark takes hold, we hear about the promise of brightness coming, and, not surprisingly, I know a song about that.

LATIN: O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol iustitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis. 
ENGLISH: O dawn of the east, splendor of light eternal, and sun of justice: come, and illuminate those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

That lyric is usually translated as,  
"O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here; disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death's dark shadows put to flight"

You might know this as the fifth verse of O Come, O Come Emmanuel, but it's also a separate tune.



This chant is one of the old "O Antiphons" used from the time of the early church and is set to be sung on Dec. 21, the Winter Solstice. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, it's a time of great darkness within the solar year. The sun is at its lowest on the horizon and the day length is at its shortest. But it's also the time that the day length will start increasing and the sun will be gaining in strength; a great image for Christians as we live in the promise and hope of Christ's brightness shining in the dark of our own shortcomings.

This chant helps us remember what the prophet Isaiah proclaimed, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them light has shined." This isn't a hope or even a promise, but is stated as a fact that's already happened.

"For unto us a child is born for us...and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." Jesus is born for us, and is so much more than any one person can comprehend.

So we sing songs of the coming Son of God, hang lights up around our houses, and fill our surroundings with cheerful decorations. Even though it's dark today (and might continue to feel dark for more days yet), I'm thankful for the increasing brightness as the daylight starts to increase - may my faith continue to increase as well. 


Bill Campbell is a professor of music at St. Ambrose University, and St. Paul's coordinator of contemporary music.

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Friday, December 20, 2013

Snow day

Fear not, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by name. You are mine.      (Isaiah 43:1) 
           
Winters in Minnesota lake country in the 1950s & 60s were cold and snowy. Schools were often closed because the buses couldn’t get to the rural farmers or to the nearby Native American reservation. For us “grade-school townies” this was vacation, and we celebrated with our neighbor buddies by building snow forts and carving tunnels in the drifts. Sometimes those drifts were high as roof lines, and every kid in the block would join in as we scurried to the top, got a running start down the roof slope, and took flight into the deep powdery stuff. The whole day was exhilarating and exhausting. We celebrated “snow days.”
Paul and his kids on a Minnesota lake.

But inevitably the roads were cleared, and we’d return to our teachers. Not until I reached junior high did I come to realize that for half our school those fort-and-tunnel days were not “vacation!” The farms and the reservation homes were miles from grocery stores and often far from neighboring friends. They didn’t celebrate snow days; they celebrated the return to classmates and hot lunches.

So, the winters in Minnesota changed for me as I grew older, and so did the Christmas season especially. In those “fort and tunnel” days I hadn’t noticed that the owner of the town general store often tramped through deep snow to deliver groceries to some snow-stranded families on Christmas. Now I did. I became more aware of people beyond my small circle of neighbors and realized that what was my delight might be someone else’s burden. And I learned that every person mattered.

This is Isaiah’s message from God: “I have called you by name and you are mine.” I have called “you.” There are no exceptions, no qualifiers. And neither are there qualifiers at Christmas, that celebration season of the birth of Jesus who said “Love one another.” Again, no qualifiers. “Love one another.” Period.  “Called you by name.” Period. This is grace; this is Immanuel, God with us.

And during Advent we anticipate this grace and this unconditional love again.  Snow days or no snow days, Christmas is indeed a celebration for all.

Paul Olsen is a professor of English and coach at Augustana College.

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Thursday, December 19, 2013

The Little Things

Ornaments from Melanie's Christmas tree

The Christmas lights twinkle
Dancing amidst the darkness
Illuminating the street where I walk

Snow cascades down
Keeping the night quiet and peaceful
Coming to rest gently on my shoulders.

I glance to my right
As a house shines bright
So warm and inviting.
I hear the sound of Christmas music
Trickling through the front door.

I smile as I continue on towards my own home,
The cold nipping at my nose,
Yet all I can feel is warmth.

I open the door and step inside
Warm air seeping through my body.
I turn on my fireplace and prepare a nice cup of hot cocoa.
Grabbing a blanket, I finally sit by the fireside.
The looming 10 foot Christmas tree glows brightly
Fully decorated with shiny ornaments and colorful lights
Standing still and full in my company.
Taking a deep breath, my face turns to look outside into the night

Snow cascades down
Keeping the night quiet and peaceful
Coming to rest gently onto the lawn.
I can’t help but smile as the glorious moment
Lets my heart beat joyously in God’s embrace.
For the little things this Christmas season are the things I hold most dear. 

Melanie Kessler, a high school student, is a member at St. Paul.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Carnival Glass Tea Cups

In the final months of her life, my Grandma Kate asked this question: Will the dear ones in my family, the ones I love so much, remember me once I have gone?

Carnival glass tea cup
She had little material wealth. So Grandma Kate went to a household auction.

My cousin Barry and I were known as the “twin cousins.” Even though we lived miles apart, we were Grandma Kate’s grandchildren born just hours apart.

I do not know how she answered her question for every child and grandchild of hers. But for Barry and me, she purchased two budget-priced carnival glass tea cups. She gave each of us a beautifully colored cup.

This was in the late 1960s. Recently, at a family funeral, Barry asked me if I still had my cup. Of course, I told him. It sits in a place of prominence on my desk. The inscription says: “From a friend.”

When I look at that cup, I often reflect upon how personal her gift of love became to both Barry and me.

As I ponder the magnitude of her gift, my mind moves to God’s supreme gift of love to us – God’s very own son, Jesus Christ. Surely, no gift could be more personal than one’s own child.

Grandma’s gift also reminds me of Jesus’ words of communion at his last supper: “Do this for the remembrance of me.” Jesus could have easily used Grandma’s inscription on his communion cup: “From a Friend.”

Craig Hellyer is married to Lindy. They live in Davenport.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Candlelight

I attended Valparaiso University to earn my undergraduate degree. Valpo is an independent Lutheran school and offers various church services inside its beautiful chapel. Candlelight, as it is referred to by students and staff, is a weekly Sunday night service of Holden Evening Prayer via candlelight.  

"Let my prayer rise up like incense before you, the lifting up of my hands as an offering to you." (Psalmody)

The service begins with the lights of the chapel darkened, with the exception of a few large flickering candles - a perfect calm in the midst of the craziness of college life. During the opening hymn, the leader's flames are passed to the white candles held by those in attendance. Within three quick verses, the chapel is illuminated, but still surrounded by darkness above and around the group. Calm and bright in a perfect collaboration.

"Joyous light of heavenly glory, loving glow of God's own face, you who sing creation's story, shine on every land and race." (Evening Hymn)

After the sermon, the liturgy continues with The Magnificat. The words of The Magnificat are among my favorite in the Bible. Here is Mary who just received some stress-provoking news, praising and thanking God. "You have looked with love on your servant here, and blessed me all my life through." These powerful words bring me comfort in distress and thankfulness in prosperity. Each week the service ends with sharing of the peace. A realization that students of various Christian faiths can worship together. A realization that Christians all over the world follow this same liturgy. Calm and bright.

"... May the Spirit of Love be our guide and path, for all of our days." 
(Final Blessing)

I looked forward to and planned for Candlelight each week - a weekly hour of calm and bright. I often entered the chapel feeling stressed about a class or a boy or a friendship, but departed with a feeling of comfort and peace. I looked forward to the relaxation and comfort I knew I would feel at its conclusion. My anxiety was forgotten and my community of friends was strengthened. I experienced the calm and bright of God's love.

Rachel Evans works in the nonprofit industry and loves Valpo basketball. 

Monday, December 16, 2013

The driver's seat

As a hospice chaplain, I walk with patients and their families as they take their final journey here on Earth. Some of our time together is spent reflecting on the life they lived, and seeing the world through their eyes.

The Gaston Family
Not long ago, I visited a woman in a care facility. In addition to a terminal diagnosis, she showed signs of dementia. I re-introduced myself, and told her that she was in the "driver's seat" for our visit. 

She immediately exclaimed that she was never comfortable in the driver's seat.

She was one of the middle children in a very large family. Life was never about just her. Without a hint of self-pity or regret, she went on to tell me that there was always someone else who needed something. Because of that, it was a lifelong joy for her to make sure people had whatever they needed.

Calm. Bright. Beautiful.

It is such a blessing to be invited in to others' view of the world as they look back on their lives.

Lisa Gaston is a hospice chaplain and United Church of Christ pastor.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Gratitude jar

"Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness." - Mary Oliver

The Hull family's Gratitude Jar
My days can fly by with nothing of significance noted or named. But a reading of David Steindal-Rast's Common Sense Spirituality rekindled my sense of gratitude. I started naming what was right before me, what I had been missing all along. I recorded these blessings in a journal. Strange, but I now find my days are less 
hectic and more calm.
   
A sampling of my December 2012 list:
  1. Gentle dance of white pine needles in the breeze...dares one to touch the softness...
  2. Wonderful group of confirmation guys...love every one of them...
  3. Song of the chickadee..."Praise God, Praise God..."
  4. Babysitting my little girls...Christmas spirit with jingle bells...
  5. Ladies' party...lots of chatter and smiles...
  6. Decorated Christmas tree...spectacular brightness in the dark...calming...
  7. The smell of gingerbread cookies fill the house...evokes memories...
  8. Snow...winter beauty...Christmas lights are magically transformed...
  9. Sky at dusk, a marbled midnight blue...wish that I could pull it down like gossamer and make myself a dress...maybe with one star...
  10. Lovely cardinals on bird feeder...

For this Christmas season, I placed a "Gratitude Jar" upon the kitchen table. My family and I are filling it with new blessings: a memory, a growth, a hope, wisdom gleaned from a Bible reading, something funny, something quiet, a sadness shared, a milestone reached, perhaps even a forgotten family memory renewed once again. 

On Christmas Day, when we empty the contents of the gratitude jar, I wonder: what we will find?

Priscilla Hull is a wife and mom of two grown sons.


Saturday, December 14, 2013

Christmas Truce

One hundred years ago, during the first Christmas of World War I, there was an unofficial cease fire. It has come to be known as the Christmas Truce of 1914. Witnesses remembered it as a time of humanity in the midst of unspeakable carnage and destruction. One soldier from Yorkshire England wrote home:

"It was a memorable Christmas Day in our trenches as we had a truce with the enemy from Christmas Eve till Boxing Day morning, not a shot being fired. The truce came about in this way. The Germans started singing and lighting candles... and one of them challenged any one of us to go across for a bottle of wine. One of our fellows accepted the challenge; that started the ball rolling. We then went half way to shake hands and exchange greetings with them. There were 10 dead Germans in a ditch in front of the trenches and we helped to bury these. I could have had a helmet but I did not fancy taking one off a corpse...The Germans seemed to be very nice chaps and said they were awfully sick of the war. We were out of the trenches all Christmas Day collecting souvenirs."

The Christmas Truce was a break in the war. Advent is a time to pause and reflect on the mystery of God being born in the flesh. It is hard to believe that God is present in our temporal world, especially as there are so many ungodly things that happen. It is true, "All people are grass, their consistency is like the flower of the field." But through our impermanence we will find comfort if we are attuned to God.

Like the prophet Isaiah, this soldier speaks of the temporal nature of our lives, and the calm within the chaos. For the soldier, the calm was a time to connect with others and be present to his humanity. For Isaiah, the calm is in accepting God as our shepherd. "...God will gather the lambs in God's arms, and carry them in God's bosom..."

But how do we find calm and peace when it seems so difficult to be present to God in our daily life as we rush from one activity to another? Life can often turn from simple distractions to a sense of being embattled. All the while, we leave little room for the eternal God in our lives.

I have really come to enjoy Advent because it helps me re-center my life and learn the ongoing process of being present to Christ. I take a deep breath, exhale, and surrender distractions, frustrations, or anything that keeps me from living at peace. In this way, the prophet Isaiah's proclamation has meaning. "Here is your God!"

Through God's grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, may we all be moved to surrender to the presence of Christ Jesus this Advent season.

Andrew Hains is a teacher and St. Paul member.

Friday, December 13, 2013

The 4 P's of Advent

To be honest, it's hard for me to think about Advent as season of "calm and bright." It's always been anything but for me.

Growing up in a rectory, it seemed as though Advent brought a flurry of new activity, visitors, special services, multiple occasions to acolyte and sing, pageants, and all of the seasonal activities that consume endless hours of the day during this important time of church year. As a husband, father, and busy professional (especially this time of year) the madness and busyness of the season has increased exponentially, making it nearly impossible to think of calm and bright.

The Barnds family
However, I know this season of Advent is central to my (and our) faith life and requires us to take a deep breath and use the season to create calm and bright within our lives and soul even though we think it is impossible for there to be such.  Advent teaches us the need to create the conditions within our lives for calm and bright to exist. The season requires self-examination, discipline, anticipation, and hope.

As I've thought about the discipline needed to create the conditions for calm and bright in my own life during this Advent, I've developed a list of the Four P's for Advent: Preparation, Patience, Prayer and Possibilities. 

Preparation: Advent is a time of preparation for Christmas, but it is also a time for self-examination. I think preparation during Advent is captured best in the lyric from the great Christmas hymn, O Little Town of Bethlehem, "But in this world of sin, where meek souls receive him still, the dear Christ enters in." This season enables us to prepare our own soul for our dear Christ to enter in.

Patience: Patience is the most difficult of the P's because of the rush to get to Christmas that we all face resulting from the commercialization of the holiday or the craziness that accompanies the season. However, patience is needed and as my father would say, Christmas "comes in due season." Our impatience to get there short-changes the celebration of the Christmas season itself, which we must remember lasts from Christmas to the Epiphany. Advent requires patience so we are not exhausted and "tired of it all" when the time comes to celebrate the birth of our Christ. 

Prayer: Advent is a time during which a renewal of a disciplined prayer life can become a priority for us. One of the things I value about St. Paul is the Advent devotional effort, which enables each of to renew our commitment to prayer through the daily devotional delivered to our computer or hand-held device. Prayer and the discipline of prayer is something that often wanes, but Advent offers the chance be disciplined. Our brothers and sisters at St. Paul, through their daily devotional offerings, provide the vehicle. 

Possibilities: Advent is a time when we should all imagine the possibilities that come with a new church year and the hope of Christ's birth. Advent is a chance to consider a New Year's resolution, an opportunity for us to think about all that is possible with Christ in our life. 

Kent grew up the son of an Episcopal priest and is executive vice president of Augustana College. He and Jennie are parents to Martha, Sophie, and Ben.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

The Christmas of 1971

The Christmas season of 1971 was a difficult time for me. Even now, 40-plus years later, I can clearly remember the sadness I felt at that time.

Kara and Santa
My husband Mike and I had been transferred to San Diego that spring. On the day that we arrived in San Diego, after a long three-day drive, we received word that my dad had died early that morning. While I knew he was sick, his death was not expected. We immediately flew back to Iowa for the funeral services but had to quickly return to San Diego so that Mike could report for duty.

When Christmas drew close, I felt the loss of my dad even more acutely and knew that we would not be able to get back to Iowa to be with our families for the holidays. Mike's and my family's tradition was to celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve and I wanted to be sure that we continued in the same tradition so it would "seem like Christmas." It just seemed so important to try to make it the same as it always had been. Never mind that I had to work the 3 to 11 p.m. shift on Christmas Eve!

I got home at midnight and changed from my uniform into a Christmas dress. Mike put on the Santa suit we had bought at Kmart - it was red plastic with white plastic trim. We woke up our 2-year-old daughter Kara - to literally terrify her with "Santa" and open presents. It wasn't really too much like the Christmases of our childhoods. That night I quietly cried into my pillow and felt certain that Christmas would never be the same.

In the many years since then, I've learned that I was partially right. How, and even when, we celebrate Christmas does not always stay the same. When we try so hard to make sure that we create the "perfect" Christmas, we often lose sight of what we are celebrating, just as I did that Christmas of 1971. We may not always be able to be with family or close friends. Life happens to us and often changes how we are able to celebrate. However, the comfort and the joy of Christmas is that it is not reserved for December 24 or 25. It isn't about the presents we give each other or the visit from Santa, or even about who we are with. The incredible gift of Christmas that is ours, and is ours every day of the year, is that God loves us and, through God's grace, we are forgiven.

Kaaren Nelson is wife of Mike, mother, grandmother, retired nurse.

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Wednesday, December 11, 2013

A Christmas morning child

Our daughter was born on Christmas morning in 1980. We went to church on Christmas Eve and sang Silent Night in the choir at the little congregation that we belonged to. After the services, we were at our friend's house when contractions became regular. We went straight to the hospital instead of going home.

Renae's baptism
Now I had been a bit of a curmudgeon about Christmas for some reason. I had never allowed myself to get into the spirit of the season. But that night I knew that things would be profoundly different from then on. Cindy was in labor for several hours with little progression. It was becoming obvious that something different would have to occur. It was decided that Cindy would have a C-section in order for our daughter Renae, our first child, to be born.

At that point, I became a little bit alarmed, since I had not considered that possible outcome. It was a clear and cold night in December. I peered out the window of the Iowa Methodist Medical Center in Des Moines. I saw a lighted cross on the domed roof of a church next to the hospital. In that lighted cross, I saw a symbol of great hope on a winter evening when I had many pressing questions and concerns. In that moment, I was reassured that God is present in our lives. I knew that we were not alone.

Christmas has never been the same. I am always filled with gratitude when I think of that time. I sometimes reflect on the countless people who have also looked out on that cross at a time of challenge in their lives. God can and will meet us at the time of our need.   

Jerry and Cindy Tonneson live in Bettendorf.

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Tuesday, December 10, 2013

An Advent in India

I arrived in India on a business trip at night and found my way to the hotel fitness center early the next morning. While my marathon-training friends were home anticipating the camaraderie of a 22-mile group run along the Mississippi River, I was jet-lagged in India and beginning my run on a treadmill.

It was still dark outside and I couldn't see anything out of the fitness center windows. The early-morning Muslim call to prayer rang out. I checked out some cricket on a local TV channel - with commentary in Hindi.

The view from Becky's room
The sun started to come up and I could see some of my surroundings out of the windows. A woman who lived in the slum next to the hotel parking lot started her day. She washed clothes and hung them out to dry. I wondered: What are her worries? Is she content?

Soon I could see across the street to make-shift shops. Motorbikes and taxis and lots of small cars honked their way through the streets. I added another empty water bottle to the growing pile next to what had started as the "dreadmill." My meditation in motion continued.

As the sun continued to rise, I could see the surrounding city. A beautiful, modern building was situated right next to a trash dump. Oh my, I had a lot to learn. What should I pray for here? And so it continued on - the observing, reflecting, the praying.

After four-plus hours and 22 miles, I was done. I was calm. And despite what I saw out those windows, I felt bright.

I soaked in all I could from this morning run, the "advent" of my trip. This new place had come into view. Because I packed my faith, I was ready for whatever was ahead. While it was not the manger at Bethlehem, I felt ready to take up the challenge of the journey, looking for hope, love, joy, and peace - and trying to provide some of the same along the way.

Becky Schmidt is a runner, attorney, and mother of twins.

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Monday, December 9, 2013

Really Reading

Every day in recent weeks, I have read an online daily reflection, a "today's prayer" sort of selection. Many days, the reflection includes a psalm. And on many of the days with a psalm, the particular text is Psalm 95, which I didn't catch onto right away. 


As I read "do not grow stubborn... as your fathers did in the wilderness" yet another time, I realized something. For me, it didn't matter the reason for Psalm 95's reoccurrence as the selected daily prayer. What mattered was that I finally saw that in my haste - my fast-paced reading and lack of absorbing - I hadn't taken the time to let the words sink in. 

This hurried approach to starting the day - rushing through a Bible reading or reflection - reminds me of the approach to Christmas, as it often occurs. Hurry up: Get your shopping done, travel plans made, cards in the mail. Keep up with work.

This can be exhausting. Where is the calm? Where is the bright?  

As we absorb ourselves in the Word of God, as we slow our pace to see the bright and experience the calm, we are nourished. We are mindful, we are thoughtful, we are merry.  

Christa Orfitelli, a mental health therapist, is an usher at the 11:45 service.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Christmas in Heaven

Have you ever thought about what Christmas must be like in heaven? I'm sure it's a spectacular celebration full of wondrous sights and sounds. My guess is that every tree looks like one from The Festival of Trees, and every Christmas cookie is impeccably decorated.

My mom will be spending her third Christmas in heaven this year. The Christmas and Advent season was her favorite, and she always decorated the house to the gills. Her spirit was always full and bright - she truly lit up a room with her joyfulness.   

Nicole's mom, holding newborn granddaughter Sage

The night after she passed (Dec. 13), I sat on the couch with my newborn daughter and my 4-year-old son watching The Polar Express. My son was captivated by the movie. I was lost in thought as I looked into my daughter's eyes. As the Christmas tree lights twinkled in the eyes of my precious miracle, this is what came to mind:

How amazing for my mom to be able to spend Christmas in heaven this year. And she's going to be there just in time to help finish decorating. I'm sure she will be teaching the angels a decorating tip or two. Heaven will be a little brighter this year.

Christmas has never been the same without my mom...and never will be. But I am calm and peaceful, knowing that she is spending her Christmases in heaven.

Christmas In Heaven
Lysandra Kay Bencke

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below with tiny lights, like Heaven's stars, reflecting in the snow.
The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear.
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear.
But the sounds of music can't compare with the choir up here.
I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring, for it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing.
I know how much you miss me; I see the pain inside your heart.
But I am not so far away, we really aren't apart.
So be happy for me, dear ones, you know I hold you dear.
And be glad I'm spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
I sent you each a special gift, from my heavenly home above.
I sent you each a memory of my undying love.
After all, love is a gift more precious than pure gold.
It was always most important in the stories Jesus told.
Please love and keep each other, as God said to do, for I can't count the blessings or love God has for each of you.
So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear.
Remember, I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

Nicole Rathje is a mom and wife, and works at Palmer College of Chiropractic in advancement services.

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