I see 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 Christmas 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 precious gift
More precious than pure gold;
It was always most important
In the stories Jesus told.
Please love and keep each other,
As my Father said to do.
For I can't count the blessings
Or love he has for each of you.
So have a Merry Christmas
And wipe away the tear
Remember I'm spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year.
By Wanda Bencke
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about." (Luke 2:15)
If man were to script the Son of God's birth, Jesus would have been born in a palace or a mansion. The news of His birth would have first been sent to one of the power brokers of the day - King Herod or Caesar Augustus.
But, God's script was different:
no palace, but a manger surrounded by animals...
no power brokers, but the social outcasts of the day, a band of shepherds...
They were considered untrustworthy and their work made them ceremonially unclean and as a result they could not participate in worship.
After being surprised (and terrified) by a visit from the angel of the Lord, and then a large group of angels, the shepherds were confronted with what to do with the message they heard: "Today is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:11). What did the shepherds do with the first announcement of the Gospel? They believed! Their immediate response was: "Let us go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about" (Luke 2:15).
They don't stop to discuss whether it's exactly according to what was written in Daniel.
They don't question if they really saw angels or if they're just imagining things because they're overworked.
They don't get a religious leader to accompany them.
They don't even get cleaned up!
They hurry off to Bethlehem to find Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. They believed all that God had told them!
What are you doing with what God has told you? Are you acting and reacting with faith?
Or are you discussing logistics?
Bargaining with God?
Nit-picking the assignment?
Getting another interpretation?
What is God asking you to do today in faith? Just believe!
And you will be amazed at how God works in your life...
how He works through you to reach a hurting world...
how He spreads His message to expand His Kingdom!
Written by Marji "Mike" Kruger
Today will never come again. Be a blessing. Be a friend. Encourage someone. Take time to care. Let your words heal, and not wound.
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my
big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered.
"Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that
day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma
always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a
whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous"
cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so.
It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told
her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted.
"Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for
years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second
world-famous cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town
that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through
it's doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those
days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who
needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked
out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother,
but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed
big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas
For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that
ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.
I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors,
the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about
thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid
with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs.
Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew
that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother
always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all
we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he had no coat. I
fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy
Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real
warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for
someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten
"Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled
at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and
ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in
her Bible) and write, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me
over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now
and forever officially one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I
crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then
Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get
going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the
present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the
safety of the bushes and Grandma.
Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to
open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent
shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I
realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what
Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we
were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the tag tucked inside: $19.95.
Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.