“Peace I leave

 

John 14:27 “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

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God never gives someone a gift they are not capable of receiving. If He gives us the gift of Christmas, it is because we all have the ability to understand and receive it.” — Pope Francis

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Through Heaven’s Eyes

performed by Brian Stokes Mitchell

Through Heaven's Eyes Brian Stokes Mitchell with the Mormon Taberancle Choir - YouTube

A single thread in a tapestry-
Though its color brightly shine-  
Can never see its purpose
In the pattern of the grand design.

And the stone that sits on the very top
Of the mountain's mighty face-
Does it think it's more important
Than the stones that form the base?

So how can you see what your life is worth
Or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man
You must look at your life,
Look at your life through heaven's eyes.
Lai-la-lai...

A lake of gold in the desert sand
Is less than a cool fresh spring-
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king.
If a man lose ev'rything he owns,
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning
Of a new and brighter birth?

So how do you measure the worth of a man-
In wealth or strength or size?
In how much he gained or how much he gave?
The answer will come,
The answer will come to him who tries
To look at his life through heaven's eyes.

And that's why we share all we have with you,
Though there's little to be found.
When all you've got is nothing,
There's a lot to go around.

No life can escape being blown about
By the winds of change and chance,

And though you never know all the steps,
You must learn to join the dance-
You must learn to join the dance.

Lai-la-lai...

So how do you judge what a man is worth?
By what he builds or buys?

You can never see with your eyes on earth-
Look through heaven's eyes.
Look at your life,
Look at your life,
Look at your life through heaven's eyes!

This was performed during the Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert in 2008. While “The Prince of Egypt” is the story of Moses, the song talks about looking at our life through Heaven’s eyes (our Savior’s eyes). “So how do you judge what a man is worth? By what he builds or buys?... You can never see with your eyes on earth-Look through heaven's eyes.” I've asked the questions myself..."what am I worth? Have I been a builder, and made a difference in this world or just an occupant?" For the answers to those questions which all of us ask at one time or another, "Look at your life through heaven's eyes!"

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 Cheddar cheese Soup

from Julie

4 R butter

¼ c onion, diced

3 or 4 carrots, diced

5 or 6 T flour

2 cans chicken brother-in-law

3 c. grated cheddar cheese

2/3 c. milk

¼ t each salt and peppermint chopped parsley

croutons

Cook vegetables in 3 quart covered pan for 25 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat, stir in flour. Mix well. Cook 1 minute; add broth and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Gradually stir in cheese. Add milk, salt and pepper and heat, don’t boil. Serve with parsley and croutons or serve plain.

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The Final Pickle Legend

In the late 1800s, F.W. Woolworth Co. stores started selling glass ornaments in the United States, imported from Germany. Some of them came in the shapes of fruits and vegetables. When pickles were imported, it might very well be possible, that the company had an excess of pickle ornaments. A crafty salesman dreamed up a European Christmas tradition story to help them do better.

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Hanakkuh started yesterday at sunset.  It seems appropriate when talking about light, to talk about the festival of lights.  In 1993, a group of white supremacists moved into Billings, Montana. They wanted to make the region “safe” from gays, blacks, Jews and all other groups which did not fit into their “perfect reality.” They began covering Native American and African American gathering places and churches with vitriolic graffiti. The people of Billings came together to wash windows, walls and help restore the buildings/areas. The hate continued.

Isaac Schnitzer, a 5-year-old Jewish boy hung a drawing of a Hanukkah menorah in his window, and a brick was thrown through into his bedroom. His mother reported the incident to the local paper. The paper reported the story and printed a paper menorah along with an editorial requesting people of all faith to display them in their windows.

The population of Billings, Montana was then and still is predominantly white and Christian. Their personal safety was not under threat, their humanity was not under assault. Something much bigger was at stake.

People all over the community displayed the paper menorahs in their windows. Some churches and christian homes had their windows broken, but in the end, eventually, the violence abated.

The people came together and light replaced darkness in their community.

In the United States today, many Jewish people are afraid to light their menorahs. The story of Billings stands as a symbol to all of us of the power of light. Safety pins have come to represent resistance to hate. I’ll wear a safety pin on my clothing and put a paper menorah in my window. Fill your communities with light, so that no one need be afraid.  ~~ Marilee

Here is a link to the song Let There Be Peace On Earth

Wintley Phipps - Let There Be Peace on Earth (youtube.com)

beautiful voice, beautiful song

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There’s More to Christmas…

Author Unknown

There’s more, much more to Christmas

Than candlelight and cheer;

It’s the spirit of sweet friendship

That brightens all the year;

It’s thoughtfulness and kindness,

It’s hope reborn again,

For peace, for understanding,

For goodwill to men!

That First Christmas Day

There were no Christmas stockings hung

on that first Christmas day,

Just a lonely manger

and a lowly bed of hay.

There was no jovial Santa Claus

with toys and gifts galore,

But shepherds came from out of fields

to worship and adore.

There was no Christmas tree that day

bedecked with tinsel bright,

But in the East there was a star

that dazzled with its light.

There were no Christmas carolers

to serenade with song,

But hosts of angels gathered 'round

to watch the whole night long.

No fast last-minute shopping

and no Christmas cards to send,

But hope was born in one small Child

for new life without end!

Now When Jesus

 

My blogs is going crazy with the bells again. I'm sorry. I can't figure out how to get rid of them, so please consider them part of the wallpaper ~~ Marilee

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Matthew 2:1–2

1 Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,

2 Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

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“I like to compare the holiday season with the way a child listens to a favorite story. The pleasure is in the familiar way the story begins, the anticipation of familiar turns it takes, the familiar moments of suspense, and the familiar climax and ending.” – Fred Rogers

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I Wonder As I Wander

Barbra Streisand

I Wonder as I Wander - YouTube

I wonder as I wander, out under the sky
How Jesus the Savior, did come for to die
For poor orn'ry people like you and like I
I wonder as I wander, out under the sky.
When Mary birthed Jesus, t'was in a cow'stall
With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all
And high from God’s heaven a starlight did fall
And the promise of ages, it then did recall
If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing
A star in the sky or a bird on the wing
Or all of God’s angels in heaven to sing
  He surely could've had it, 'cause he was the king
I wonder as I wander, out under the sky
I wonder as I wander
I wonder as I wander, out under the sky
How Jesus the Savior, did come for to die
For poor orn'ry people like you and like I
I wonder as I wander, out under the sky
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

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Holiday Recipe

Bacon breakfast casserole

from Kate

5 eggs
1/2 cup milk
3 cups of frozen hashbrowns, thawed
1/3 c. greens onion, sliced
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1 1/2 cups mild cheddar cheese, divided
8 slices cooked bacon (or 1 cup diced ham), divided

Combine the hashbrowns, green onions, salt, pepper, 1 cup of cheese and 7 slices cooked & crumbled bacon

Pour egg and milk mixture over hashbrown mixture in a bowl and stir to combine. Pour into a 9 inch pie shape baking dish

Top with remaining 1/2 cup cheddar cheese and crumbled bacon

Bake at 350° for 35-40 minutes uncovered, or until casserole is set when you try and wiggle it and a toothpick comes out “clean”. Let the breakfast casserole sit for 5 minutes or so to let it harden up a bit.

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Holiday Decorations to make.

At our church Christmas party, last night, there were many of these beautiful snowflakes on the walls.  The instructions are found at  How Do You Make Paper Snowflakes (mykidstime.com) 

Christmas Pickle Story #3

Yet another story, based on a medieval tale, is often told in Berrien Springs, Michigan. Berrien Springs has been recognized as the Capital of the world for the Christmas Pickle, celebrating with an annual pickle festival during the first part of December. The tale has it that St. Nicholas saved 2 Spanish boys.  They went to boarding school and were going home for the holidays. On their way home, they stayed at an inn, where the evil innkeeper killed them and placed them in a pickle barrel. St. Nicholas found the boys in the barrel when he stopped at the same inn, and he brought them back to life.

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I heard today’s story, The Man Who Missed Christmas, as a child. It really impacted me then and still does. We have talked about light and the importance of reflecting the light of Christ as it touches our life. This story deals with another characteristic of light – Absorption. Well, actually it talks about 2, but we’ll talk about absorption first, then the other tomorrow. When an object absorbs the light around it, it takes in everything and releases back nothing. Some people take in everything they’re given and return nothing. George Mason has a life filled with “things” important to him, but not with people. We need to reach out and share the light of Christ with those around us. ~~  Marilee

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The Man Who Missed Christmas

by J. Edgar Park (c) 1956

It was Christmas Eve; and, as usual, George Mason was the last to leave the office. He walked over to a massive safe, spun the dials, swung the heavy door open. Making sure the door would not close behind him, he stepped inside.

A square of white cardboard was taped just above the topmost row of strongboxes. On the card a few words were written. George Mason stared at those words, remembering…..

Exactly one year ago he had entered this self- same vault. And then, behind his back, slowly, noiselessly, the ponderous door swung shut. He was trapped—entombed in the sudden and terrifying dark.

He hurled himself at the unyielding door, his hoarse cry sounding like an explosion. Through his mind flashed all the stories he had heard of men found suffocated in time vaults. No clock controlled this mechanism; the safe would remain locked until it was opened from the outside. Tomorrow morning.

Then realization hit him. No one would come tomorrow—tomorrow was Christmas.

Once more he flung himself at the door, shouting wildly, until he sank on his knees exhausted. Silence came, high-pitched, singing silence that seemed deafening. More than thirty-six hours would pass before anyone came—thirty-six hours in a steel box three feet wide, eight feet long, seven feet high. Would the oxygen last? Perspiring and breathing heavily, he felt his way around the floor. Then, in the far right-hand corner, just above the floor, he found a small circular opening. Quickly he thrust his finger into it and felt, faint but unmistakable, a cool current of air.

The tension release was so sudden that he burst into tears. But at last he sat up. Surely he would not have to stay trapped for the full thirty- six hours. Somebody would miss him. But who? He was unmarried and lived alone. The maid who cleaned his apartment was just a servant; he had always treated her as such. He had been invited to spend Christmas Eve with his brother’s family; but the children got on his nerves and expected presents.

A friend had asked him to go to a home for elderly people on Christmas Day and play the piano— George Mason was a good musician. But he had made some excuse or other; he had intended to sit at home, listening to some new recordings he was giving himself.

George Mason dug his nails into the palms of his hands until the pain balanced the misery in
his mind. Nobody would come and let him out, nobody, nobody, nobody…

Miserably the whole of Christmas Day went by, and the succeeding night.

On the morning after Christmas the head clerk came into the office at the usual time, opened the safe, then went on into his private office. No one saw George Mason stagger out into the corridor, run to the water cooler, and drink great gulps of water. No one paid any attention to him as he left and took a taxi home.

Then he shaved, changed his wrinkled clothes, ate breakfast and returned to his office where his employees greeted him casually.

That day he met several acquaintances and talked to his own brother. Grimly, the truth closed
in on George Mason. He had vanished from human society during the great festival of brotherhood; no one had missed him at all.

Reluctantly, George Mason began to think about the true meaning of Christmas. Was it possible that he had been blind all these years with selfishness, indifference, pride? Was not giving, after all, the essence of Christmas because it marked the time God gave His son to the world?

All through the year that followed, with little hesitant deeds of kindness, with small, unnoticed acts of unselfishness, George Mason tried to prepare himself….

Now, once more, it was Christmas Eve.

Slowly he backed out of the safe, closed it. He touched its grim steel face lightly, almost affectionately, and left the office.

There he goes now in his black overcoat and hat, the same George Mason as a year ago. Or is it? He walks a few blocks, then flags a taxi, anxious not to be late. His nephews are

expecting him to help them trim the tree. Afterwards, he is taking his brother and his sister-in-law to a Christmas play. Why is he so happy? Why does this jostling against others, laden as he is with bundles, exhilarate and delight him?

Perhaps the card has something to do with it, the card he taped inside his office safe last New Years’ Day. On the card is written, in George Mason’s own hand:

“To love people, to be indispensable somewhere, that is the purpose of life. That is the secret of happiness.”