12/25/11


December 25 - Daily Feast

If I could lay before you the dearest gift this morning, it would be a time of no beginning and no end. It would be life filled with good health and peace and inner joy that can only come from the Spirit. You would quietly refine your thoughts and words so that you never draw to you anything but the finest. You would rest deeply and breathe in sweet peace. You would know the tremendous difference between the material and the spiritual - turning from anger and frustration to a safe haven of love. You would always be the most loyal friend - not to me but to yourself. All the issues of life rise out of the heart - so this is a gift from heart to heart.



~ I have expressed my heart to you.
I have nothing to take back. ~
CHIEF JOSEPH - NEZ PERCE

'A Cherokee Feast of Days, Volume II' by Joyce Sequichie Hifler

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MERRY CHRISTMAS

Shared by
Corinne Mustafa

12/12/11

God will find YOU

Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago,writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy:

Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day. I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange... Very strange.

Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do you think I'll ever find God?" I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.  "Why not," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing." I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then I called out, "Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely cerrtain that He will find you!" He shrugged a little and left my class and my life. I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line -- He will find you! At least I thought it was clever. Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful.

Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe.

"Tommy, I've thought about you so often; I hear you are sick," I blurted out. "Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks." "Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked. "Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied. "What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying?

"Well, it could be worse.

"Like what??

"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life.?

I began to look through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)

"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!) He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.? I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. (My clever line. He thought about that a lot!) "But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven.

But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit. "Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an afterlife, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving.?

But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them. "So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him. "Dad." "Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper.. "Dad, I would like to talk with you." "Well, talk.? "I mean. It's really important." The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What is it?" "Dad, I love you, I just wanted you to know that." Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him. "The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged
me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning." ?It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me."

"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years." "I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long." "Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to..

"Then, one day I turned around and God was there.                

"He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give you three days, three weeks." Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. "But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him."

"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation intime of need, but rather by opening to love..You know, the Apostle John said that. He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.

"Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now.Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them
what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it...?

"Oooh.. I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."

"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call." In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me.. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.

Before he died, we talked one last time. "I'm not going to make it to your class," he said. "I know, Tom." Will you tell them for me? Will you...tell the whole world for me?" I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best."

So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- I told them,

Tommy, as best I could.

If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two. It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.

With thanks,
Rev. John Powell, Professor,
Loyola University, Chicago

12/6/11

Wednesday Devotional...12/7/11

" A Renewed Mind"

God wants to sanctify us and transform us into the image of His Son, Jesus Christ. He also wants us to be Holy as He is Holy. All that is possible if we are willing to allow Christ to do an extreme makeover in our minds. We must daily meditate and dwell and memorize His word. As we do that, the Holy Spirit will speak to our hearts and minds, and quicken God's truth to us and purify our minds.

In Romans 12:2 it says

"And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." God will totally transform us and renew our minds fresh and anew as we allow Him to wash our minds with His word and yield to Him.

I truly desire that extreme makeover in my mind. I want to live with the mind of Christ and be a better and more Holy person inside and out for the Glory of God!

Blessings,
Sandy Billingham

The BELIEVERS and THE SECRET KEEPERS.

I was a late bloomer, believing in Santa Claus until I was nine or ten years old.. Being an only child, I did not have an older sibling to share the reality of the Santa Legend with me. So, I went on believing long after any normal child with a maturing sense of reason would have given up believing in . . .

JOLLY OLD ST. NICHOLAS 


I loved Santa .and to leave a plate of cookies and candy was my yearly tribute to what a great and giving guy he is. No wonder his “round belly shook like a bowl full of jelly”! After all, how many millions of kids were doing the same thing all over the world? And being a polite kind of guy who knew how to be a guest . . . I just know that he would eat the cookies in every house he visited. What a sacrifice.



LEAN YOUR EAR THIS WAY
DON'T YOU TELL A SINGLE SOUL
WHAT I'M GOING TO SAY

After all why did he need to tell anyone what I said. God knew what I wanted and so did he. I had total confidence that on Christmas morning I would find all my heart’s desires under the tree. And the truth of the matter is that I usually did. I remember one bright morning when the pile of my presents was a little mountain that actually peaked at my shoulders. What I did not know at the time was that my Daddy and Mommy were my own personal Santa and elf. And the elf, who was always in charge of the wrapping, would take such items as underwear and socks which she separated from their usual packages of three, wrapped individually, and added the pile. Amongst the dolls, or Bobbsey Twin books, or coloring books and crayons were such common utilitarian items as tooth paste, a new tooth brush, a comb, and many other items that would carry me through the new year until Christmas rolled around again.

CHRISTMAS EVE IS COMING SOON 

As if he needed a reminder. Wasn’t his whole house and workshop filled to overflowing with gifts for all the good boys and girls. It never occurred to me that if his house and workshop were so crowed then how could he possible carry them all over the world in one sleigh.

NOW YOU DEAR OLD MAN

(Yep! Better butter the sweet old dumpling up . . . just in case!)

WHISPER WHAT YOU'LL BRING TO ME
TELL ME IF YOU CAN

Well he wasn’t God, was he? So how could he know what I was getting for Christmas? And if my parents were anything like I turned out to be they would not even be sure what would be in my pile until the last store closed on the 24th. There was always a last minute treasure that would cry out, “Buy me!” which would come home and be paced under the tree so that the Christmas pile would be complete.

But one Christmas the moment came . . .

WHEN THE CLOCK IS STRIKING TWELVE
WHEN I'M FAST ASLEEP

The year when my mental clock struck twelve (or should I say ten?) and I awoke from my magic dream of childhood and entered the world that some who were much younger than I were already a part of. I no longer believed in Santa Claus. But I...

STILL BELIEVED IN THE MAGIC OF LOVING AND GIVING AT CHRISTMAS.

I never let go of that. Fast forward to about 1981 . .


DOWN THE CHIMNEY BROAD AND BLACK,
WITH YOUR PACK YOU'LL CREEP;
ALL THE STOCKINGS YOU WILL FIND
HANGING IN A ROW

There were three stockings hanging in a row on our fireplace that year. One belonged to eight year old Faruk, my first born. The second belonged to four old Martin, our adopted middle child. The last stocking belonged to one year old Aleisha .

Right now I am feeling like our pastor, Pastor Larry here. So far you have only had an introduction to the story. This is where we come to the actual story that I have planned to tell all along. Like our Sunday messages this story might be shorter than the lead in . . .

MINE WILL BE THE SHORTEST ONE
YOU'LL BE SURE TO KNOW.

This is not the story of the shortest stocking, it is about the “longest” one. (Well there was no longest one. The stocking that each child had was the same size as all the others.) However, if we had had age defined sizes for the stockings, this would have been about the longest one. The year finally came when our oldest, Faruk, came to me with a question in his eyes and asked me, “Mom is there any such person as Santa Claus? He is not real is he, Mom?” I had known this day would have to come soon, but I still was not ready for it when it did come. I remembered those many years ago when I had gone to my mother heartbroken about my own popped Santa-belief bubble.

Well it had to come, didn’t it? You cannot remain a child forever, can you? But when I found out it was at school. An older brother did not whisper his wisdom into my ear . . . a wisdom that would change the secular part of our Christmas celebration forever. How could I help Faruk see that he needed to keep this knowledge to himself . .

MARTIN WANTS A PAIR OF SKATES
ALEISHA WANTS A DOLLY
MARTIN WANTS A SOCCER BOLL
HE THINKS DOLLS ARE FOLLY.

So Faruk no longer believed. Would he miss the innocence that believing in Santa Claus signifies? What would happen if he told the “babies”? Well, I know it would not have been the end of the world. Still., I believed that hearing that they had been duped at such a tender age would be hard for little ones to understand. How could they deal with it when they were too young to understand the intentioned loveliness of a legend which had been carried on generation after generation for the joy and enjoyment of children. And it would be even worse to think that you had been fooled by your own parents! Such tender minds would not have the tools to understand why this had been done.
 
AS FOR ME, MY LITTLE BRAIN
ISN'T VERY BRIGHT

After momentary feelings of panic and helplessness, feelings that are familiar to parents when they face uncertainty about what to say or do, an idea came to me. Even after all these years I am still amazed at the cleverness of that idea. My “little brain” shone as brightly as the Christmas star that day . . . in fact it was brilliant.. I sat my beautiful boy down and told him my story of the two groups that people are divided into at Christmas.

CHOOSE FOR ME DEAR SANTA CLAUS
WHAT YOU THINK IS RIGHT.

I don’t believe that it was Santa who chose what was right for me to do that day. Rather, I believe that Jesus spoke to my heart, so that I could answer my child. After all, Jesus loves the little children; He said they should be allowed to come to Him; and He told us adults that unless we become like little children we cannot enter heaven. And, it was about how we celebrate the remembrance of His birthday.

Here is the story I told my son. Faruk, at Christmas this world is made up of two groups . . .

The BELIEVERS and THE SECRET KEEPERS.

A long time ago there was a very holy man who lived in Holland who had a unique way of celebrating Jesus’ birthday. His name was Saint Nicholas. After dark he would go around his city and leave surprises on the doorsteps . The presents were like birthday presents for Jesus, whose life was God’s most special present to us. The difference was that we received the presents . . . not Jesus. Children and their parents would look outside in the morning to find the gifts and candies Nicholas had left. After a long time Nicholas got very old and could no longer deliver his presents. Parents had thought it was such a lovely way to welcome the day of Jesus’ birth. So, they started to secretly leave presents outside their own doors for their children. Soon parents all over Europe were doing the same thing. When a lot of people start doing something, a custom is created. In our country Saint Nicholas became known as Santa Claus, and the custom is carried out to this day.

So, now there are two groups of people at Christmas time . . .

One group listens for Santa’s bells and sounds of reindeer hooves on the roof. They leave out cookies and milk for Santa as a way of telling him “thank-you” for what he has done. On Christmas morning they wake up before the sun peeps over the trees and wake up their parents. Together the family goes to look under the tree to find what Santa has left there and to take down their stockings that have “been hung by the chimney with care“.

Then there is the other group. Most of the people in this group are older. They are the adults, the teenagers, and the older children. By now my son’s eyes were like big dark brown saucers, and, looking into them, I could tell that he already understood. Still, I continued. I felt that this was onr of the most important stories that I had ever told my child. I went on, “Santa Claus is a legend, Faruk. Believing in him makes mystery and excitement be a part of the presents we receive as birthday presents for Jesus. Eventually, we all grow up and realize that Santa Claus is just a legend. That is when we join a new group that is very important. When we join this group we are getting closer to being adults.”

I told him . . . This group is called...


THE SECRET KEEPERS!

I went on to share with him how important his membership in “The Secret Keepers” group is. He now shared the responsibility of carrying on the legend of Santa Claus. He was now expected to keep the secret for Martin and Aleisha and the kids he knew who still believed. That was the rule for members of the “Secret Keeper” group. I told him that one day he would be keeping the secret for his own children. That seemed forever in the future, when I said it. My, how fast time does fly! He is now thirty-six, and his children, twelve year old Michael is now a “Secret Keeper”, and six year old Kieran is still a “Believers”. Back in those distant days he did accept the responsibility. Faruk was a great “Secret Keeper”. Martin and Aleisha had the years of believing that they should have had. When Martin was ready to cross over Faruk and I told him the story together. He was a great “Secret Keeper”, too. Aleisha eventually heard the story, but she had to use her knowledge in the treatment of her little friends. She was our family’s baby. Now she is a “Secret Keeper” for her three year old, Sam.
 
I have to say that Aleisha is an excellent secret keeper (and not just at Christmas time) even to this day!


Corinne H. Mustafa
December, 2009

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And...
Please never forget
THE REASON FOR THE SEASON