Many of our memorable and enduring Christmas traditions include different kinds of lights—lights on trees, lights in and on our homes, candles on our tables. May the beautiful lights of every holiday season remind us of Him who is the source of all light. – David A. Bednar

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Francesca Battistelli - Messiah 

Francesca Battistelli - Messiah (Official Lyric Video) - YouTube

Long awaited precious promise
Son of God and son of man
Heaven's glory in a manger
Has come to us in Bethlehem, ooh

Messiah, Messiah
A baby born to save us all
Messiah, Messiah
On our knees we fall

All we longed for, all we needed
Shining in this child's eyes
Hope forever, death defeated
Because of this one holy night

Messiah, Messiah
A baby born to save us all
Messiah, Messiah
On our knees we fall

O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
Christ the Lord

Long awaited precious promise
Coming back again

Messiah, Messiah
A baby born to save us all
Messiah, Messiah
On our knees we fall
On our knees we fall

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Oreo Cookie Balls

1 (14 ounce) package chocolate sandwich cookies (such as Oreo®), crushed

1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, at room temperature

1 (12 ounce) package chocolate candy melts

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Mix cookie crumbs and cream cheese together in a bowl; roll into balls and arrange on the prepared baking sheet. Chill cookie balls about 1 hour. Melt candy melts in the top of a double boiler over simmering water, stirring frequently and scraping down the sides with a rubber spatula to avoid scorching. (I melt mine in the microwave). Dip cookie balls in the melted chocolate, removing balls using 2 forks to allow excess chocolate to drip back into double boiler. Arrange coated cookie balls on the baking sheet; refrigerate until coating is firm, about 10 minutes.

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Games

I love to play trivia games (at least I used to). Here is a link to question and answers for a fun Christmas trivia game night

Christmas Trivia: 50 Fun Questions with Answers (parade.com)

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Jingle Bell Toss

Grab some red solo cups and jingle bells. Each person takes a turn attempting to toss their jingle bells into cups that are placed on a table in front of them. To make it more challenging, spread out the cups, or enforce the rule that after each jingle bell makes it into a cup, the person takes a step back to make things harder.

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I Spy with my Christmas Eye

Each person takes a turn choosing a Christmas object of their choice. The rest of the room takes turns asking “yes” or “no” questions until one participant guesses correctly. The correct guesser gets to go next.

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It’s almost here, another Christmas. Tomorrow will be the final blog. My walk with Christ won’t be done though. It will last every day for the rest of my life. Deborah Whipp said, "Like snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance -- each beautiful, unique and too soon gone." the lessons I’ve learned about my Savior and myself will never be gone, they will just strengthen and become more precious with each passing year. ~~Marilee

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Becoming As Little Children --Author Unknown

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.

His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. Hi there, baby; Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik. My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi, hi there." Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby.

Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo." Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's "pick-me-up" position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder.

The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby." Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift." "You see, m'am, I never saw my child grow up. My wife and son were taken from me in an automobile accident when they were both too young. I was never able to get over it."

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks and "I'm sorry to hear that." With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me." I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, "Are you willing to share your son for a moment?" when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children."