Jealousy--a monster

If you haven't read "The Green-Eyed Monster," a Berenstain Bears book, get to your library asap. It's a children's book, a fun read, and makes sense... like all Berenstain books.

Jealousy existed since Eve took the bite from the apple. Cain killed his brother, Abel, because he was jealous of his brother's sacrifice before God.

Some believe there are really only two emotions: fear and love. If this is so, we know without much thought under which category jealousy falls. Insecurity, anxiety, anger, resentment, and bitterness all rush in to create a not-so-nice you: a monster or, at least, a potential one.

We've all experienced it whether it be a relationship issue, ownership issue, or position desired. Jealousy Monster rears its ugly head often and at times that even surprise us. How do we rid ourselves of it? .... by remembering that we were each uniquely created in His image, redeemed by His blood, and with a purpose He has planned for each of us.


...God has saved us and called us to a holy life--not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace.        2 Timothy 1:9

... it's the season of gifts and giving.

Don't compare what you have or what you may get.

Your honor comes from God.

A Savior Is Born--For You.

Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in clothes and lying in a manger. Luke 2:11-12

 It all happened in a moment, a most remarkable moment that was like none other.  ...God became a man. While the creatures of earth walked unaware, Divinity arrived. Heaven opened herself and placed her most precious one in a human womb. God as a fetus. Holiness sleeping in a womb. The creator of life being created. God was given eyebrows, elbows, two kidneys, and a spleen. He stretched against the walls and floated in the amniotic fluids of his mother. God had come near.  ...To think of Jesus in such a light is--well, it seems almost irreverent, doesn't it?  ...But don't do it. Let him be as human as he intended to be. Let him walk into the mire and much of our world. For only if we let him in can he pull us out. (as written by Max Lucado in Celebrating Christmas With Jesus)

...because Jesus came we have hope...

Merry Christmas

Mary's Trip to Bethlehem

A little over 2000 years ago, a very pregnant Mary was riding a donkey on her way to Bethlehem--the city of David. Bethlehem was the place where God first's appointed earthly king was born and raised as a shepherd boy 1000 years before Mary took her journey.

Because Mary and Joseph were both of the lineage of David, they made this trip to take part in a census as was the law during the time.

We know the story: they ended up in a stable because there was no room in the inn. A stable with noisy and smelly animals. A stable where the Christ child was born. Can you imagine Mary's thoughts? Gabriel had told her she would give birth to a son, that his name would be Jesus. He would be called the Son of the Most High; his kingdom would never end. Talk about over-whelming. And, here she was under the stars pondering all this.

Listen to the song, "Mary Did You Know"... just google it. It will help you understand the magnitude of all this: Jesus' birth!

2000 years later, here we are. It's our story, too, because we are all of the family of Christ.

Some stories are told. Some stories are told through other people's stories. Some stories are left untold. Tell your story. Tell what it means to believe in Christmas.

Growing Older...

I don't consider myself old; however, I do receive Social Security, Medicare Benefits, and am a grandma. So, if I am not old now, I'm headed in that direction with no U-turns, detours, or STOP signs ahead.

I've watched our parents grow old, get sick, and die. It's inevitable: everything that lives, dies. There are invisible walls that surface as we age: can't go there, don't do that, not safe anymore--things we won't be able to do, places we won't be able to go because we are not what we used to be.

When I was around 14 years old, I walked our quarter mile lane in the dark of night, plopped myself in the soft ditch grass, and allowed the heavens to saturate my space. Awed, I knew that the world had possibilities, and they were infinite. Now, the slivers of open spaces are narrowing. I ride an exercise bike instead of walking due to arthritis in my foot. I can't eat just anything I want unless I want a tummy-ache. Technology drives the world, but I sometimes can't figure out how to solve a simple tech glitch. I at times feel inconsequential at a meeting or a gathering--thinking that I have nothing to offer. I understand how my parents felt when I start to feel that I can not relate to trendy music, movies, or clothing. Eccentric, I may become.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his "Letters and Papers from Prison," 1953, wrote "Time is the most precious gift in our possession. ...Time lost is when we have not lived a full human life, time unenriched by experience, creative endeavor, enjoyment, and suffering. Time lost is time we have not filled...."

So what? I can honor and show love for our Creator God by living life to my fullest and completing the purpose He intended for me. If I don't know what it is, I get down on my knees. He'll let me know.

What do you call God?

The story of David as told in 1 Samuel through 1 Kings and including his songs of praise and prayers in the Psalms are probably the lengthiest narrative in history of a human life and how it evolved. He was the son of Jesse, a shepherd boy, with many brothers, who ended up King of Israel over 1000 years before the birth of Christ. He has been called a man after God's own heart because he trusted God, he believed in God.

In Psalm 62, David calls God my fortress, my rock, my salvation, my mighty rock, my refuge. In the Bible, God has been called by many names, including Most High, Lord, Jehovah, Covenant Maker, I AM, the Word, Master, my Shepherd, Our Righteousness, Everlasting Father.

One of my friends starts her prayers often with the praise,

 "Creator God...."

What do you call God when you call upon him?

 How about, My Everything.

Wishes or Bellyaches?

I wish he wouldn't do that.
 I wish I had a better coat.
I wish I had more friends.
 I wish I had more respect from my co-workers.
It goes on and on and on. . . .

What does bellyaching have to do with wishes? Or better yet, when is a wish not really a wish but a complaint (bellyaching)?

I thought "quit bellyaching" was an expression used only by grandpas and great uncles; however, when I googled it, I found it is more common than I thought.

                                

Do all things without grumbling or questioning.         Philippians 2:14        
              

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.         Ephesians 4:29

Need I say more?

Left To Tell

There was a divider in the middle of the room--not soundproof and a little tipsy if you bumped it just right. I could hear everything on the other side; she could hear everything on my side. I had to be careful. I was working with behavior disordered students--sometimes loud and rambunctious. It was 1994, and I shared a classroom with a fellow teacher.

It was 1994, Immaculee IIibagiza lived in a small bathroom with a toilet, a shower, and six other women who could not speak to each other for fear of being heard or could not leave for fear of being killed. Outside, Hutu warriors--armed with machetes and swords--raped, mutilated, and brutally murdered. Immaculee lived in this little bathroom with her father's rosary in her hands for three months. She lost half of her body weight and was covered with sores when she fled in the middle of the night to another sanctuary.

As I read LEFT TO TELL, I asked myself, how could I not know about this?  Millions of Tutsis were murdered in what was called an ethnic cleansing in Rwanda. I am careful about recommending the book, as there were times I wanted to put it down and not finish; however, there are also miracles in the book. Imaculee was "left to tell," and because she was left to tell, we can learn from her story of survival. Not only did she survive, she forgave the Hutu warriors (some of them former neighbors and friends) who had brutally murdered much of her family and friends.


If you're thinking this happened in Africa--another continent--worlds away, with a culture we do not understand, I want to tell you that Immaculee had a college education as did all of her brothers and parents. They owned a nice home (by a lake), a car, and a motorcycle. They went to church every Sunday.... need I say more?

I sometimes wonder what our responsibility really is to those who live in other countries--those living in poverty, those being persecuted by others, etc. I don't have an answer for this, other than to pray for direction, to pray for guidance.

... on another note, if you're having difficulty forgiving someone in your life, think of Immaculee, or read the book and you'll start to understand how insignificant, perhaps, your reasons not to forgive may be. You'll also understand the freedom you will feel when you finally can forgive.


Immaculee currently works for the United Nations in New York City.