December 22

 

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Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas | Meet Me In St. Louis | Warner Archive - YouTube

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Let your heart be light
From now on,
our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Make the Yule-tide gay,
From now on,
our troubles will be miles away.

Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore.
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.

Through the years
We all will be together,
If the Fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.
And have yourself A merry little Christmas now.

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Life happened yesterday.  Her is the material I had prepared for it. ~  Marilee

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I found this story on several sites, and wanted to share it.

Bailey's Jesus - Kenneth Cope

The sun is shining: Bailey's Jesus (chondima.blogspot.com)

Do You Know Bailey's Jesus? - Ginger Tucker (beulahfoundationforchrist.blogspot.com)

Bailey’s Jesus

(by Ginger LaGrone Tucker)

God recently allowed me to see Jesus through the eyes of someone seeing Him for the first time. Having the advantage of knowing how the story ends, we can easily forget the cost of our redemption and the love of our Savior.

Every year we attend a local church pageant at Christmas time, which tells the story of Jesus from His birth through His resurrection. It is a spectacular event, with live animals and hundreds of cast members in realistic costumes. The magi enter the huge auditorium on llamas from the rear, descending the steps in pomp and majesty. Roman soldiers look huge and menacing in their costumes and makeup.

Of all the years we have attended, one stands out indelibly in my heart. It was the year we took our then three-year-old granddaughter, Bailey, who loves Jesus. She was mesmerized throughout the entire play, not just watching, but involved as if she were a player. She watched as Joseph and Mary traveled to the Inn and was thrilled when she saw the baby Jesus in His mother’s arms.

When Jesus, on a young donkey, descended the steps from the back of the auditorium, depicting His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Bailey was ecstatic. As he neared our aisle, Bailey began jumping up and down, screaming, “Jesus, Jesus! There’s Jesus!” Not just saying the words but exclaiming them with every fiber of her being. She alternated between screaming his name and hugging us. “It’s Jesus. Look!” I thought she might actually pass out.

Tears filled my eyes as I looked at Jesus through the eyes of a child in love with Him, seeing Him for the first time. How like the blind beggar screaming out in reckless abandon, “Jesus, Jesus!”, afraid he might miss Him, not caring what others thought. This was so much fun.

Then came the arrest scene. On stage, the soldiers shoved and slapped Jesus as they moved Him from the Garden of Gethsemane to Pilate. Bailey responded as if she were in the crowd of women, with terror and anger. “Stop it!” she screamed. “Bad soldiers, stop it!” As I watched her reaction, I wished we had talked to her before the play. “Bailey it’s OK. They are just pretending.” “They are hurting Jesus! Stop it!”

She stood in her seat reacting to each and every move. People around us at first smiled at her reaction, thinking “How cute!” Then they quit smiling and began watching her watch Him. In a most powerful scene, the soldiers led Jesus carrying the cross down the steps of the auditorium from the back. They were yelling, whipping, and cursing at Jesus, who was bloodied and beaten. Bailey was now hysterical. “Stop it! Soldiers! Stop it,” she screamed. She must have been wondering why all these people did nothing. She then began to cry instead of scream. “Jesus, Oh, Jesus!” People all around us began to weep as we all watched this devoted little disciple see her Jesus beaten and killed as those first century disciples had.

Going back and forth between her mother’s lap and mine for comfort, she was distraught. I kept saying, “Bailey, it’s OK. Jesus is going to be OK. These are just people pretending to be soldiers.” She looked at me like I was crazy. In my lap, we talked through the cross and burial. “Watch, Bailey, watch for Jesus!”

The tomb began to tremble and lightening flashed as the stone rolled away. A super bowl touchdown cheer couldn’t come close to matching this little one’s reaction to the resurrection. “Jesus! He’s OK. Mommy, it’s Jesus!”

I prayed that she wasn’t going to be traumatized by this event, but that she would remember it. I shall never forget it. I shall never forget seeing Jesus’ suffering, crucifixion, and resurrection through the eyes of an innocent child.