Author: lbuth0511de28fc

I don't know who said these words first:

A friend is a present you give yourself.

Last night my husband and I felt very gifted. We spent the evening with a group of friends we've known for more than twenty years.

Have you ever been in a gathering of friends or family and listened to the music of their laughter and joking, with everyone speaking at once?

How sweet it was!

Yet friendships so easily slip away. They get buried under the stack of To Dos that didn't get done and the absolutely urgent Must Do stuff.

That's life, as they say. But it's a shame.

Sometime in the hazy past a teacher made us memorize a rhyme, probably one of those times when one best friend wasn't speaking to another. It went something like this:

Make new friendships, but keep the old;

One is silver, the other gold.

For all of us, wherever we live, we leave parts of ourselves behind. We take memories with us, plus the friendships that mattered while we were there. The trouble is, to keep those relationships alive we need to put a bit of effort and nurturing into them, or they wither away.

Since most of us live busy lives, that takes effort…and who has time? Small personal touches help. (I'll be the first to admit I don't do this enough and I've probably paved several miles of that road to hell with my good intentions.)

What to do? The bottom line is that it's always good to hear from people we love. If you're like me that may mean your main contact with people who live a distance from you is sending out Christmas cards that include your (copied) letter. Then add a short handwritten line or two that's personal. That's not enough, of course, but it beats sending what feels to the recipient like a form letter.

Is it worth it? YES! Last night provided fresh proof that friendships endure over time. We've found you can be separated by distance, but still close in heart.

It feels soooo good to re-connect, rather like one of those plants that come to life in a warm spring rain.

So do yourself a favor. Get in touch with those friends you haven't heard from, maybe haven't called or written for too long. Don't worry about feeling or sounding awkward because it's been awhile.

Make the effort. Call. Write. Send a card.

Don't do it for them. Do it for you. Keep at it, even if you don't hear back for awhile. Keep that thread flowing. One day you'll meet again and pick up where you left off.

Perhaps nothing feels so satisfying as connecting with true and trusted friends, the kind of folks with whom you can be completely yourself and at ease. Afterward, you'll smile for a very long time. I know, because that's what my husband and I have been doing ever since.

Maybe you're missing friends like that right now. Why not call or write or e-mail that person? You'll be glad you did!

And I promise you'll wonder why you waited so long.

Blessings,

Lenore

Question for you: How do you make friends? How do you keep those friendships going? Tell us how you do it, please. Your comments welcomed!

Blessings,

Lenore

Give yourself a gift–hang onto those friendships!

June 6, 2009
Maybe that sounds like a silly analogy, but on the other hand…

Ever met a bride who didn't expect to live happily ever after? Me neither.

Ever met a wife–or husband, for that matter–whose life together consists of one blissful day after another? Me neither.

Or a new mom or dad who didn't expect that beautiful baby would smile and coo and love them every single day? Of course not.

Marriage and parenting change us. Like it or not, we're forced to stretch and grow. When we bring home a newborn, we quickly discover life never will go back to "normal." Because that totally helpless infant needs us, we set aside our own needs and care for our child. That becomes our new routine.

Call it the rock polisher of love and parenting.

Most married couples I've known describe themselves as complete opposites. Certainly that fits my husband and me. Yet here we are after many years, still married –and happy. Sure, we've had our ups and downs, but we hung in there through the downs and celebrated the ups.

By now we actually appreciate each other's personality traits, the same qualities that once frustrated us. We've discovered we're better and more effective together than either would be on our own. Now we know that we balance each other. (God, of course, knew all this from the beginning.)

We've learned. We've grown. Credit the daily rock polisher of love and marriage.

If you've ever been around a rock polisher, you know it makes a frightful racket. Picture a rotating drum full of rocks hitting and crashing against each other and banging the sides. The continual noise goes on and on.

It takes as long as it takes and there's no other way. In the beginning all those rocks look rough and uninteresting. At the end they come out smooth and polished. Now we can see their depth and remarkable colors. Some are revealed to be semi-precious. A few even turn out to be precious gems.

I can't think of a better analogy for marriage, can you?

So next time you hear some "crashing and banging" around your house, don't despair. Consider it part of love's smoothing and polishing process. As we live together in marriage, in a family, we smooth off each other's rough edges. (If you have no noise and conflict, don't worry. Love still accomplishes its purpose: change.)

By the way, it helps to remember what every rockhound knows. What looks like a dull, craggy rock in the beginning may, once it has tumbled awhile, turn out to be a gem of priceless worth.

Blessings,

Lenore

Question for you: Have you found this to be true in your life? (Just go to the "Comments" box at the end and follow directions.)

Are you caught in the rock polisher of Love?

April 7, 2009
"We had such a wonderful life," the weeping husband told the counselor. "A good marriage, beautiful children, and we did everything right. At least, we thought we did. But now, now…What am I supposed to do now?"

The counselor, known by all to be warm and caring, listened awhile. His response sounds shocking at first. "What I hear you saying is that someone ruined your Camelot."

Remember Camelot? Flowers always bloomed and the sun always shone. Brave knights rescued every maiden in distress. Ladies in lovely gowns sipped tea and cakes, yet never had to boil or bake. Who wouldn't want to live in such a magical, mystical, mythical place?

Except we don't. We live in the real world, with real people.

More times than I want to admit, I forget that and set myself up for disappointment. Then like that weeping father, I grieve the loss of my dream and my self-image as much as anything.

Then what do we do? We love the sinner(s), as the counselor advised that dad to do, as God loves us. We take our pain to God, until finally we can leave it there.

Camelot would be a lovely place to visit, I suppose. But I wouldn't trade the joys and challenges of relating to real people.

How about you?

Blessings,

Lenore

Agree or disagree? Your comments welcomed! (Just click on the word, "Comments" in the small print at the end, then follow directions.)

Who ruined your Camelot?

April 3, 2009
                    It’s the buzz across the nation. Octuplets!

In case you’re fuzzy on the details, here are the facts. The single mother gave birth to eight babies and has six children at home, ages two to seven. Although she has an ex-husband, he did not father any of her fourteen children. All fourteen arrived courtesy of fertility drugs and in-vitro fertilization, using the the same, undisclosed sperm donor.

Nadya Suleman, age thirty-three, lives in Los Angeles with her parents and her children. A year or so ago her parents took out bankruptcy to the tune of one-million dollars. Since then the nine of them have lived in a 1,550 square foot house. (I can hear you groaning. Are you identifying with the mother or the grandparents?)

Suleman has hired a public relations firm, but not to worry. Her spokeswoman says she is “the most sought-after mom in the world right now.”

Hundreds of morning shows, television talk shows, magazines, tabloids and the like clamor for interviews. Some (I am shocked!) involve offers to pay. No decisions have been made, says her spokeswoman, Joanne Killen, who noted the obvious: raising eight babies will be expensive … plus six more.

But not to worry. According to her spokeswoman, Nadya Suleman plans to carefully review her “financial opportunities.” Killen pooh-poohed reports that this new mother already had decided to host a television show on parenting. (It should be noted her family talks of her lifelong desire to have children, and she majored in child development.) She adds that Suleman does eventually want to tell her story to the world. That’s why the new mother (again) hired their firm, says Joann Killen, to manage all those opportunities.

Years ago learned scholars, doctors and theologians began arguing the ethics of the inevitable fallout to come once fertility drugs and in-vitro fertilization became common. By this point countless couples have followed this route and delight in the results.

The tale of Nadya Suleman and her children seems to me a prime example of misuse. Think of the other issues. Maybe you’ve read articles about women who gave birth through the use of donated sperm and now are tracking down their own child’s “siblings,” through the Internet. They’re getting together for “family reunions.”

            You’ve watched television shows about couples who meet and fall in love, then find out they’re related, because the two mothers were inseminated by the same sperm donor. You’ve read the stories of surrogate mothers who changed their minds because they had bonded with the child growing within them, leaving the would-be parents sad and devastated.

            Perhaps saddest of all are the countless children all over this nation waiting to be adopted … and growing up still waiting. Meanwhile couples long to be parents and will spend years—and endless thousands of dollars, not to mention the indignity and discomfort of taking fertility drugs—hoping to end up with a child that shares their DNA.

            Last night on one of our local television newscasts, the anchor did their weekly feature introducing one or more children who ache to be part of a family. They always touch my heart, but especially last night. A handsome fifteen-year-old talked about his hope that someone would want him. The newscaster asked, “Do you ever get too old to hope?”

            The young man said something like, “Not me. Maybe I’ll go on hoping all my life, wishing I belonged to somebody. When I hear other kids complaining about their parents, I just say, ‘Cut it out! You don’t know how lucky you are to have somebody in your life who cares about you!’ So I guess I’ll go on hoping … “ And then he looked away from the camera.

            So here’s my question for you: When—not if—Nadya Suleman turns up as the featured guest on Oprah’s show, will you watch? When the sperm donor decides to tell his story (and you know he will) will you listen? Would you watch a television show on parenting with Nadya Suleman as host?

What do you think about this “brave new world” of science? And what is "mother love," anyway?

Sorry, I guess that’s more than one question, so you get to pick. Please do!

Lenore

Your comments truly are welcomed!



What’s your take on the mother with eight babies?

February 3, 2009
    I don't know about you, but I'm tired of the continual doom-and-gloom talk everywhere we turn. I don't think it helps any of us.

    You know how it goes. One reporter will say, "If … then … and then … we could … ."

    The other talking head responds, "And that could lead to … which would mean that … and then … we'd have ____ more layoffs, which would mean ____ more people couldn't make their mortgage payments. Foreclosures will skyrocket in our area!"

    Nobody seems to notice–or care–that everything starts with that little word, "if."

    For two minutes or so they've drummed up emotion and fear. Their facial expressions and tone of voice make it plain doom is imminent! Yet not one real thing has occurred.

    It's way too easy to get sucked in to this whirlpool of misery. When I do it's no time until I'm venting to my husband … or vice versa. Soon we're forecasting personal doom based more on someone else's conjecture than on fact.

   That quickly snatches the sunshine out of a room … or a life.

    So let's not join that crowd. Here's my proposal for coping with what comes. First, let's get a realistic grip on what affects our own lives and concentrate our energies there. Manage as wisely as we can, cut expenses where we can, appreciate what we already have. Living bountifully has nothing to do with having money. It's all about how we view our life.

    Second, let's look at what really matters and focus our attention there. Most of us would say that people matter more than things. So let's invest ourselves in other people. It costs nothing to speak encouragement or give someone a hug … and most of us could use more of both.

    Finally, let's count our blessings … over and over again. I think that's more than ticking off a list. Let's form a new habit: Pay attention to what is, more than longing for what isn't. Each time we do we'll feel more confident, more sure of our life, more at peace.

    When we share a life, whether with a spouse or a child, little aggravations often cloud our vision. It helps to set them aside for awhile and look at this person with a stranger's eyes. Do we spot virtues we had been ignoring? Remember, small virtues count. (Ever forgotten to put out the garbage when your husband was out of town? Then you know what I mean.) If you feel shortchanged, ask God to enlarge your perception.

    If you live with those recording devices a.k.a., kids, remember that your attitude(s) become theirs. Your fear(s) become theirs … even when they never say a word or ask a question. No child ever is oblivious to their parents' state-of-mind.

    Finally, when it comes to fear, whether of recession, depression, or a change in government, let's remember who's in charge. Today I got an e-mail you may have received at some point, one with beautiful photography and a meaningful message. It points us to the verse in the center of the Bible: Psalm 118:8. This is the perfect motto for you and me in these troubled times … or any time.

It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man.

    Next time we're tempted to sink in despair, let's go back to this verse and pitch a tent. Fortunes come and go. Governments rise and fall. Only One was there before the beginning and will be there after the end. Only One has proven to be absolutely trust-worthy over time. He's the one who watches over us and who blesses your life and mine.

    By the way, here's the address for that video I referenced above: 70670-TheBibleDV.pps (2473KB)   (Sorry, you'll need to copy, then paste it to access it.) Enjoy!

    Have a refreshing weekend!

    Lenore

    What do you think about this? Your comments welcomed!



Let’s not let talk of the “downward spiral” drag us down!

January 24, 2009
    If you lived halfway around the world, would you be waiting for the inauguration of Barack Obama as President of the USA?

    Probably so. Many will cheer because he'll be our first African-American President. But there's more to it than that. All over the world people marvel that in the United States, power passes from one administration to another without riots, without wars or assassinations. Instead, we have parades and parties, all of it broadcast freely–in its entirety–over national television and radio. If you or I could find a way to shoe-horn ourselves in among the one million plus people who plan to shiver away many frigid hours, we could at least be in Washington, D.C., to be present.

    After all, this is America! We take it for granted, forgetting this is rare. Not many countries in this world change parties or governments so calmly.

    We are blessed, bountifully. We are free to rant and rave about what's wrong with this country, or with whatever the current administration happens to be doing–or not doing. We can march and carry signs. No one comes to cart us off to prison. This is America.

    After eight years as President, George W. Bush will become a private citizen and quietly go home to Texas. Throughout his years in office our nation faced many challenges, beginning with September 11, 2001, before he had been in office a year. He leaves when we're in the middle of one of the biggest crises, and his popularity ratings are at their lowest. I wish him and his wife, Laura, much happiness in this new phase of their life together.

    I am sad for him … and for her. I believe he did the best he knew how, with what he knew at the time. Since he often professed his faith, I take him at his word that he sought God's guidance every day, then went forth and did his job.

    By now I've lived long enough to know that's all any of can do, whether we're a President, a parent, or a paper-hanger.

    I almost always know more afterward than I did at the time I had to make a decision. Later, sometimes much later, I find I have a better grasp on what was involved. Perhaps I've come to understand the wider picture, or I know the people involved better than I did, or I'm simply wiser and more seasoned. Alas, I cannot go back and live it over. Neither can President Bush.

    Neither can anyone else. Whoever coined the term, "Hindsight is 20/20," said it well.

    I have no idea how history will view his Presidency. It is interesting to remember that the press and people universally trashed Abraham Lincoln almost every day he lived in the White House. He was hated by both the North and the South. The names they called him make the labels hung on George Bush look tame. Yet he calmly stood his ground, never wavering, because his passion was for justice and freeing the slaves.

    Now he's known as our greatest President, the role-model and inspiration for President Obama.

    I did not vote for Barack Obama, but as our elected President, he merits our full support. I pray his administration will succeed mightily. I do think it's wonderful that an African-American man rose to the Presidency, and I pray it will heal the old wounds and animosities. We are, after all, the United States of America. That implies we, the people, too, are to be united.

Since he has said he is a Christian, I'm guessing he, too, will pray for God's guidance each day. Then he'll go forth and do his job, the best he knows how, with what he knows at the time.

    As always, I'll pray God's wisdom and leading for our President and for all those who lead our nation. As always, I'll try not to expect perfect performance. (Does that look anything like expecting his decisions always to please me?)

     I'm thankful our new President loves his wife, Michelle, and their two daughters. I'm thankful he talks about respect and honoring authority, about the value of working and finishing school. President Obama and Michelle have the platform to be powerful role models and to inspire many, young and old. Their positive comments about family may turn around some alarming trends in our society. I'm thankful they're Christians.

    As we enjoy the pomp and circumstance of another Presidential inauguration and the hoopla surrounding it, let's give thanks. We are privileged to live in the greatest nation on the face of the earth–and let's not forget it. What's more, let's talk it up! Let's speak hope and reassurance when others are talking gloom and forecasting doom! That will cost us zero, but pay big dividends in so many ways, in our lives and in our communities.

    Because you and I and all of us together are the United States of America, not just our new President.

    Won't you join me in daily asking God to bless and protect the United States and our leaders? And enjoy the festivities!

    Lenore



Let’s celebrate what makes us “America!”

January 19, 2009
    That sounds like a pointless statement, I suppose … or maybe wishful thinking. Yet isn't that what we all long to do, from the day our children are born?

    Becoming a parent is like tapping into a vein of miracles. What parent hasn't fixated on tiny fingers and toes, imagining the future of our children? That miracle never stops, because all through their childhood years we marvel as we watch our kids change and develop.

    Some of us start off on this adventure feeling confident. After all, we've read stacks of books and observed all the ways other moms and dads mess up. We have no doubt we can avoid all those pitfalls. As a friend put it, "The only time I had all the answers on how to raise kids was before we had any."

    New parents often burst with pride. Others panic, afraid they're not ready. One new mom said, "I feel like I've been appointed 'it' for everything in my child's life!"

    Actually, that's not so far from the truth. After we become parents it's up to us to provide TLC, food, shelter and guidance, 24/7. Which one of us ever feels ready for that?

    Before long we realize we have more questions than answers. That state-of-mind turns out to go on all through our children's growing-up years, even though we're growing and stretching, too.

    So how do we "bless our children?" We give them what every human being longs for: the sense of being accepted and loved without ifs, ands, or buts. Some of us have experienced that and possess an inner security our entire lives. When we haven't, we may spend our lives trying to live up to what we think our parents wish we were.

    Most of us would judge that freedom to be a lifetime gift, but how do we give it?

    It seems to me it's more than just saying, "I love you," over and over. We also study each child, not just their behavior, but their strengths and weaknesses. (If one or more of your children seems out-of-sync with you, or challenges you, welcome to a very large club.) As we do that we're more able to cooperate with who they are, the individual God made them to be.

   How do we "cooperate?" Imagine you want to play an instrument. You don't make music with a violin by blowing on it and you can't play a clarinet with a bow. Even gifted performers still need to respect the inherent qualities and capabilities of their instrument. So they study and they learn and they practice until they can bring out its music.

    No two kids are alike, not sisters or brothers, not even twins. Each of us is one-of-a-kind. We bless our children when we allow them be who they are and find ways to help them develop the "music" inside themselves. To do that we keep on learning and growing–and praying–so we can parent them in ways that fit with who they are.

    By now you're wondering if my husband and I always followed this excellent way as we reared our four girls. We loved them dearly, and we tried with all our hearts and all our might, but we failed in lots of ways. We still do. Why? I've never found a better explanation than the Pennsylvania Dutch saying I spotted on a hearts-and-flowers wooden plaque:

"We get too soon old and too late smart."

     Parenting turns out to be a lifetime growth opportunity. Who knew? So we start where we are, taking a good, long look at our children and ourselves. If we feel in over our heads, we seek out guidance. That may be a trusted, comfortable friend with older children, one who can mentor us and give us a wider perspective. It may be our pastor or a counselor that's been recommended. (First take time to check and be sure the lives of people you turn to stack up with what you want for your own.)

    We give our kids a solid place to start from when they know we value them as individuals. Of course we need to plant the other good stuff, too, for balance. Is this easy? Almost never. Yet I've found that God is faithful to supply us with fresh strength for each day. One more thing. As we help our youngsters develop into the people God made them to be, we're doing the same for ourselves.

   Through the days of this year, let's do more than speak our blessings to our children and families. Let's be a blessing, as well.

   When you doubt your capacity, remember that our needs never outstrip His supply!

    Lenore

    Agree or disagree? Your comments welcomed!

A New Year’s resolution for mothers: I will bless my children this year … and all their lives through

January 6, 2009
    We're about to enter the New Year … 2009! A period of time as unknown to us as if we were following a mountain path into thick fog. We only think we know what lies ahead.

   I love some things about the arrival of another New Year, like putting up new calendars. Who could miss the symbolism of "off with the old, on with the new?"

    Whatever 2008 was … or wasn't … it lies behind us. Ahead lie 365 uncommitted days. Freedom! Freedom, that is, until I start writing in those unavoidables of life, the meetings and appointments already scheduled … and there will be more. That task makes me feel organized, but also weighed down as I watch those unsullied days fill up. Knowing I've chosen most of those commitments helps, but hey, they nail down my time. I'm one of those people who likes keeping her options open, because who knows what possibilities may arise?

    But then I get a grip. I wouldn't trade places with anyone. Many of those notations remind me that I'm needed, or I make a difference, or simply that I matter in someone else's life. There's nothing that brings more deep-down joy.

    At any point, you and I have this day, this moment. That's scary, but also comforting. We don't have to deal with 365 days, only the one we're living in. Still, beginning a new year feels like starting a journey, not quite sure where one will end up. None of can foretell what 2009 will bring.

    For years I had a piece of writing framed on my office wall, and I love it still.

                                               "The Gate of the Year"

    And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:  "Give me a light, that I may tread safely into the unknown!"

    And he replied:   "Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way."

                                                                                        –M. Louise Haskins

     I can't say it better than that. So let's step off into the unknown with gusto! As long as we hold tight to the Father's hand, we'll be safe.

    May God watch over you and yours every day of the New Year!

    Lenore

    Your comments welcomed!



Are you ready to step into the abyss?

December 30, 2008
    Today is Christmas Eve, and just the words trigger so many memories for me. You see, my father was a pastor, so naturally our family life centered around our church. My earliest Christmas memories center around the small country church across the road and down just a bit from the parsonage in which we lived. We knew every family living within miles, and they knew us.

     Most Sundays my mom played the organ, since, as everyone said, she could "make that  old organ talk!" Often my dad would not only preach a sermon, but also sing a solo, since he possessed a glorious tenor voice. For Christmas he'd sing, "The Birthday of a King," or "Oh, Holy Night," always to a hushed congregation. None of this seemed remarkable to me. These were my parents, doing what they did.

    Christmas Eve centered around the children's program. We would practice for weeks, memorizing our "pieces," and the words to the Christmas songs we sang as a group. Anxiety would grip our little group–and our parents. Would we remember to go forward when it was our turn? Would we freeze when we looked out on that huge congregation of perhaps seventy-five people? Older kids got to recite the Old Testament prophecies, the ones with the big words. We sang "Away in a Manger," "Silent Night" and "O Little Town of Bethlehem" and of course, "Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful," and so many more.

   Did we have a white Christmas? Well, of course. It was Minnesota, after all. In that simpler time, shepherds of small flocks often also got to be shovelers of snow on church steps and walks. I'd tag along, stepping on the just-cleared spaces. I remember walking from our home to the church across that country road, our footsteps crunching and squeaking in the snow.

    With frost etching the windows, Bethlehem seemed very far away. To think of shepherds out on green hills, watching over their flocks of sheep seemed impossible to me, since to me, Christmas and snow went hand-in-hand.

    Yet we spoke and we sang of times and places far away … and somehow, we knew the truth of the familiar words of Luke 2:1-20. I could picture the scene. That lowly stable, filled with smelly cows and sheep and donkeys, and in the midst of it all, Mary and Joseph with the newborn baby Jesus, wrapped in cloths and lying in the manger full of hay.

     Every year since I can remember, I've treasured the thought of the glory of the Lord shining around those shepherds and an angel appearing to them, announcing:

      Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the city of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign unto you; You will find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.

    Suddenly the sky was filled with angels, all praising the Lord. Only the lowly shepherds heard their glorious music, not the rulers, not the "important" people of the town.

    That still speaks to me. No matter who we are, or how many times we've messed up, or what's going on in our lives, the same Good News of Christmas applies. The Savior is born–to us! His love waits for us. He waits for us … and all he wants is for us to open our hearts to Him.

    It's Christmas Eve. Time for new beginnings. Time for you and me to come to that tiny Child in the manger and kneel in wonder, as the shepherds did. That's all it takes, and the same peace and joy they felt can be ours, not just for a season but for always.

    Christmas Eve memories live on. So does the timeless Christmas story.

   I wish you a Merry, Merry Christmas, and may your spirit be bright!

    Lenore

    Your comments welcomed!



Remembering Christmas Eves past …

December 24, 2008
    I'm keeping a count of how many times I'm asked, "Well, are you ready for Christmas?"

    Evidently every checker in the United States is trained to ask this question. I still smile whenever I remember the time I answered, "No, I'm not. I really don't know how it can be time for Christmas already!

    My answer attracted the attention of a little woman in the aisle next to me. She looked to be about eight-five or so years of spunk. This rosy-cheeked lady fixed her sparkling blue eyes on me and took on the air of an old-timey school-marm. She left me no wiggle room at all. "But my dear!" she said, "All year long you've known it was coming!"

   Who could argue with that logic? Guess I'm a slow learner, for here I am, once again playing catch-up. Let's just say life intervened with my well-laid plans.

    Getting ready for Christmas could leave a person feeling depleted. Too much to do, too many places to go, trees to trim, cards to write, packages to mail. So it could seem natural to feel depleted … if not for the fullness of Christmas.

    I feel that fullness every time we open a Christmas card and touch hearts with ones we love! Reading their notes and letters, we laugh, and at times we cry with them. Memories spring up out of nowhere, ready to be relived and flood the heart with joy all over again. Every year I scramble to write notes on the (copied) letters we send, and each one we receive feels like a gift from the heart.

    And have you noticed? People smile more in December. Perhaps that's because we focus on what we can give and what we can do for other people, rather than on what others could–or should, we think–do for us. We smile as we gather toys for toy drives and food for community food pantries and bake cookies for (it seems) the whole world.

    That fits, because Christmas is the season for giving.Think about the name: "Christ-mas."

    This is the time to remember again the wonder of it all, the birth of the Christ child, Jesus. GOD come to earth in human form. The Gift beyond description.It seems inconsequential to dither over whether December 25th actually marks the date of his birth, because it falls at just the right time. In this season of dark mornings that hang on too long and cold, dark evenings that come too soon, we especially need the Light!

    So if you, too, still have cards to write and packages to wrap and mail, let's breathe deep right now and rejoice. It's Christ-mas! True, bad news dominates the news and we still don't have peace on earth. Yet we can experience peace in our hearts, even in the midst of our rushing and scurrying.

    That peace will carry us through Christmas Day, through all our days … and beyond.

    Happy rushing around! Here's wishing you peace, deep-down and lasting, and joy that makes your heart sing!

    Lenore

    What's your favorite part of Christmas? Your comments welcomed!



What do you do with that question everyone asks at Christmas?

December 18, 2008