Luke 2:6–7
6 And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
7 And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
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We don’t need to travel to the Holy Land to make a difference or to draw closer to our Savior. Christmas is a time when we can focus on our personal gift to the Savior by continually loving and helping others. Then it’s not very far to Bethlehem for any of us.– Terence M. Vinson
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Francesca Battistelli - "Be Born In Me (Mary)" with lyrics - YouTube
"Be Born In Me"
Everything inside me cries for order
Everything inside me wants to hide
Is this shadow an angel or a warrior?
If God is pleased with me, why am I so terrified?
Someone tell me I am only dreaming
Somehow help me see with Heaven's eyes
And before my head agrees, my heart is on its knees
Holy is He; blessed am I
Be born in me, be born in me
Trembling heart, somehow I believe that You chose me
I'll hold You in the beginning, You will hold me in the end
Every moment in the middle, make my heart Your Bethlehem
Be born in me
All this time we've waited for the promise
All this time You've waited for my arms
Did You wrap yourself inside the unexpected
So we might know that Love would go that far?
Be born in me, be born in me
Trembling heart, somehow I believe that You chose me
I'll hold You in the beginning, You will hold me in the end
Every moment in the middle, make my heart Your Bethlehem
Be born in me
I am not brave
I'll never be
The only thing my heart can offer is a vacancy
I'm just a girl
Nothing more
But I am willing, I am Yours
Be born in me, be born in me
I'll hold You in the beginning, You will hold me in the end
Every moment in the middle, make my heart Your Bethlehem
Be born in me
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Batter bread
2 t. salt
2 T sugar
1 package dry yeast
1 1/4 c. warm water
2 T softened butter or margarine
3 to 3 ½ c. flour
In a bowl, dissolve yeast in water. Stir until yeast dissolves. Add butter, sugar and salt. Stir in 2 c. flour. Beat with mixer on low or by hand until smooth and sticky looking. Stir in additional flour to make a soft dough. Cover with a clean cloth and let double. In bulk. About 35 minutes. Grease a loaf or square pan. Spread dough evenly and let rise 40 minutes. Bake in preheated oven at 350 degrees for glass pan or 375 for metal. Bakes about 45 minutes.
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Craft idea
This links to a wonderful Christmas Tree/ Lights/Nativity to make. I couldn’t get it to copy. Please check it out. I have it marked in my pinterst account under christmas crafts. Control/click will get you to the creator’s site.
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The Humble Donkey and Stalwart Camel
The donkey and the camel are both associated with gentleness and humility. The donkey plays an important role in the New Testament bearing the pregnant Mary on her journey to Bethlehem. Sometime after the birth of Jesus, Joseph was warned in a dream to flee to Egypt because Herod’s intended to kill all male children under two of age. Mary, Joseph and the infant Jesus fled to Egypt on a donkey. There is no biblical record of the Wise Men reaching Bethlehem by camel, but these creatures, renowned for both their staying power and their stubbornness, have nonetheless become integral to our Christmas imagery. T S Eliot, in The Journey of The Magi wrote, “A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.' And the camels galled, sorefooted, refractory, Lying down in the melting snow.”
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In Thursday’s story, we read about George Mason. In the beginning of the story, he gave nothing. He took in everything good that came his way. After spending Christmas locked in a vault, he changed. He started to reflect the light and goodness of Christ to others. There is another characteristic of light which is called refraction. Refraction of light is the phenomenon that occurs when light travels from one medium to another and changes its direction. George kept some of the light within himself and directed the rest outward. He no longer absorbed everything. We need to look outside of ourselves and find ways to meet the needs of others. In today’s story, this family finds ways to share the light and beauty of Christmas. May we look for and shaare the beauty of this season. ~~ Marilee
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THE GLORY ON HIGHWAY 69
~ Ruby Swindle, Guideposts
Guidepost magazine provides people with real-life stories of hope and faith as well as practical tips for living a meaningful life. Their website is located at www.guideposts.com
"On the night of December 1 we'll turn on the Christmas lights, the ones that take us three months to put up each year. I hope our married daughter will be able to make it over from Talladega, Alabama, for the lighting. After all, she's the reason for the lights.
Her name is Ruby, same as mine, but when she came along, a girl after three boys, everybody called her "Sis," and the name stuck. Sis was five when she started saying how she wished other people could enjoy our lights. We had just one string then, on the tree in the living room.
"They're so beautiful, Mother! I want everyone to see them!"
That was Sis, always wanting good things for others. Well, the next year we bought a second string and hung them on the bush by the front door, where they glowed warm and cheerful for folks driving by on Highway 69. Sis was beside herself with excitement. "I wish we could put dozens of lights out there!"
Lights cost money, of course, and we've never had a lot of that. Harold's a cook at a roadside restaurant and I'm a seamstress at Oneita Mills, Sis enjoyed the lights so much that each year we managed to buy a few more. We strung them along the porch and wound them around the fence posts. One year Harold figured out a way to get lights high up in the old oak tree: He tied a length of string to a metal nut and fired it into the tree from a slingshot. When the nut dropped down over a branch, he attached a string of lights to it and hauled it up. Another year he made a frame to hold a star for the roof; we saved up and bought a lighted Nativity scene for the year so people wouldn't miss the reason for the celebration.
After a while folks started driving by just to see our light display. "Mother!" Sis would call as a car's tires crunched on the driveway. "Here comes another one!"
As years went by, it took more and more time to get those thousands of light up. Electric bills were bigger, too, to keep the lights burning every night for a month. But we managed fine. So many people started coming that Harold cleared a place for parking behind the house and looped the driveway back out to the road so traffic could move in a circle. Still, some nights the line of cars stretches clear down 69 and cars waited half an hour to get close.
Sis got married after high school and moved to Tallageda, ninety miles away. That was twenty years ago, but these are still "Sis's lights," and while we're putting them out in the fall she comes over whenever she can to help us connect the strings and check for burned-out bulbs.
It takes every night after work and all day weekends to get hundreds of strings up on the roof and around the chicken house and up in the trees by the first day of December, when Harold throws the switch. Then a month later we start taking them down, wrapping each string separately in a plastic storage bag, storing them in the attic with the Baby Jesus and the sheep and the angels. It's almost the end of February -- that's nearly six months -- before we're done.
Five years ago I had a heart attack, and now I don't do much climbing and hammering. Nothing slows Harold, though, and there's lots I can do sitting down: check the wiring, replace bulbs. You can't find the old-timey ones anymore, Sis's favorites, shaped like flowers or Christmas figures. "But I love them all, Mother!" she'll say, fingering the strands of bulbs - the sharp-pointed miniatures, the big flame-shaped ones that can burn your fingers.
You see, Sis's fingers tell her when a bulb is burned out: It's cold. Sis can't actually see the lights, never could. She was born blind. That's why every light we hang is for her. For the little girl who squealed with happiness as I guided her hands along that first string, telling her, "This bulb is red ... this one is yellow ..." For the girl who said, "Oh, Mother, they're so beautiful! I want everyone to see them, too!""THE GLORY ON HIGHWAY 69
~ Ruby Swindle, Guideposts
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