Happy New Year!

"Do not call to mind the former things, or ponder things of the past. Behold I will do something new, now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, rivers in the desert."
Isaiah 43: 18,19

HAPPY NEW YEAR! I pray He will do something new in each of our hearts.

Blessings,
Linda

Christmas Gratitude

The other day my Mom gave me a tiny Santa candle. On my very first Christmas, when I was less than two months old, he was one of my presents. He is standing proudly on a shelf on the hutch in the dining room - right in front of the snowmen. When I look at him, I see a long line of Christmases stretching out behind us. We've seen a lot of them, we two.



It causes gratitude to well up in my heart:

- for the absolute joy of having Mom and Dad here with us

- for the dear faces around the table - familiar and loved - precious family and friends

- for the priceless privilege of hearing "The Story" from my earliest memory - for having the Baby always at the center of it all

- for Christmas greetings from far away places

- for the promise of hope that Christmas brings

- for a love that confounds and amazes - that He would come for me

I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. I pray the true meaning of it lingers in your heart and fills you with joy and peace.

I am going to take a few days off. I'll be back before the New Year. The Lord has been whispering a new word for this coming year.

Blessings,
Linda

linking to Ann's gratitude community

Merry Christmas

From our home to yours - wishes for a Blesses Christmas.



With love,
Linda

Strofulli

I remember them from my childhood. Every Christmas a plate of them sat tantalizingly on the hutch in the dining room - calling to me. I could never resist. Whenever I walked by,I would pluck one from the golden pile and pop it in my mouth. They were melt-in-your mouth good. Yummy!

I was reminiscing about them a few weeks ago, and Mom decided we would add them to the cookie baking list. We saved them for last. Today was the day.

It really is a "two-girl project." Mom dropped the little bits of dough into the hot oil, and I coated them with honey.







Lots of sprinkles, and they are done!



All that remained was to sample them. Mmmmm mmmmm good!

Christmas Blessings,
Linda

What Became of the Shepherds?

"That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord's glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. 'Don't be afraid!' he said. 'I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior - yes, the Messiah, the Lord - has been born today in Bethlehem, the City of David. And you will recognize Him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.'
Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others - the armies of heaven - praising God and saying,
'Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.'
When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, 'Let's go to Bethlehem! Let's see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.'
They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joesph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing Him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child. All who heard the shepherd's story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them."
Luke 2: 8-20

There the story of the shepherds ends. What a story it is. Heaven itself opened up to these humble men and the glory of the Lord surrounded them. Surely their lives could never be the same.

I have thought about them - about what happened in the days following those miraculous encounters. The scriptures tell us they went back to their flocks, back to their ordinary lives. Did they wonder what would happen next? As the days slipped into weeks and eventually into years, and the images of that long ago night began to fade, did they begin to have nagging little questions and perhaps a bit of doubt? During the long lonely nights on the very same hillside, did their gaze shift heavenward hoping for a further sign? Did they long to hear news of the baby and His parents? Were they discouraged when it looked as though He had simply vanished?

Thirty years later, did word reach them about the young carpenter from Nazareth who said He was the Messiah? Did they hear of the miracles and did their hearts race at the news? Were they waiting expectantly for the Promised One to take His rightful place? Did their hearts break when news of His crucifixion reached their little town?

I wonder (I hope)if the news of His resurrection somehow reached them. If it did, did the vision of that long ago night burst into their hearts once again? Did they see, in their mind's eye, that little baby now become their Savior? Did they rejoice once again knowing the long wait was over; the promise was fulfilled? Fulfilled in a way they could not possibly have foreseen. How could they have known that the little baby they saw that long ago night would one day live in their hearts? It was even more glorious than they had imagined.

What does this story of the shepherds have for us? What would they like us to know and understand? Perhaps it is this:

Have you ever had a glorious word from the Lord, a promise that He spoke to your heart? Perhaps the promise of something you had prayed for with great urgency or a dream He birthed in your heart. Not only did you have that word, but it was confirmed in ways that could only be from Him. You believed and waited for the promise to take form.

Days slipped into weeks, weeks into years, and you began to doubt that you heard correctly. Discouragement filled your heart, and you thought the promise would never materialize. But remember...

The shepherds didn't know what had become of the baby. They didn't know that "...the child grew up healthy and strong. He was filled with wisdom, and God's favor was on Him." (Luke 2: 40) While they waited, the promise was taking form. While they wondered when He would appear again, He was working at a carpenter's bench. When they grew discouraged, He stepped onto the stage and began the work His Father has sent Him to do.

While we wait, the Father is working. In His way and in His time, He will do what He has promised.

"Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep His promise."
Hebrews 10:23


Christmas Blessings,
Linda

In Defense of Santa

The days are slipping by so quickly, and I long to slow them down - to savor this time. I love soaking in all the beautifully written things about the true meaning of Christmas, listening to the familiar carols and looking with wonder at the miracle of the Gift.

I have a little confession to make, however, that involves my childhood, Santa, visions of sugar plums, stockings hung by the chimney with care and leaving milk and cookies by the easy chair. I wonder if it would be all right to take a lighthearted look at Christmas...just for a little bit; because intermingled with all of the spiritual, I have images of make believe that always surface during this season. There is one in particular that is as vivid today as it was nearly fifty-five years ago.

I was old enough, that year, to have come to the bitter-sweet conclusion that Santa Claus wasn't real. However my little sister , four years younger than I, was still a firm believer. My Dad, Mom and I became co-conspirators in keeping the dream alive for just a little while longer. We never lost the baby Jesus in all of this, we just allowed Santa to have a part too.

It began snowing earlier in the day that Christmas Eve and was accumulating quickly. The snow plows had cleared the streets of our little sub-division, but by the time darkness fell we were snowed in. The little houses and yards were nestled under a soft white blanket, and the world was hushed.

Little sister was already tucked into bed, having set out the plate of Christmas cookies and glass of milk for Santa, when the silence was broken by a knock on the front door. We couldn't imagine who would be out on such a night. We looked questions at one another as Dad went to open the door. There on the front stoop stood a rotund figure clad in red and dusted with snow. He stepped into the living room, and we were transfixed.

Dad went to get the little sleepy head and carried her, tousle-haired and sleepy-eyed, to see our night-time visitor. I will never forget the look of wonder in her eyes. It was a magical moment.

I don't remember what was said. I just remember the sweetness of the moment. Santa didn't stay long. He had a long night ahead of him. When he stepped out into the night, we gathered at the door to watch.

He walked down the center of the snow-filled street. The soft light from the street lamps illuminated the swirling flakes and shone down on Santa as he disappeared into the night. That picture, like the most beautiful of Christmas cards, is imprinted on my heart. I take it out every Christmas and marvel.

I see the picture of one who came with no other motive than love. One who gives lavishly with no thought of receiving anything in return. One who is no respecter of persons - visiting both the lowly and the mighty - knowing each by name. One who takes the time to make dreams come true even for little girls.

Perhaps, forgive me if I over-step, just perhaps Santa might be a tiny picture of The One who came with no other motive than love to bring the greatest gift of all.

Christmas Blessings,
Linda

Light of the World

I was blessed to grow up in home where Christmas was always a magical time. For a little girl with an over-sized imagination, it was easy to get caught up in the idea of Santa Claus, Christmas presents and bulging stockings. There was one Christmas, however, that changed the “visions of sugar plums dancing in my head” into something quite different.

It was the Christmas I was finally old enough to belong to a girls group in our church called C.G.I.T. (Christian Girls in Training). It was to become a significant part of my life right through my teenage years, and this year I would take part in the Candle-lighting Service.

As one of the littlest girls I was at the end of the line as we made our way down the center aisle of the sanctuary. Our little church seemed magically changed with the lovely candles glowing in every window and the beautiful tree in front of the choir loft. I felt a sense of awe as we stood in front of the congregation and sang the ageless Carols and recited Luke 2 from memory.

I had a special part in the program that night. Two other little girls and I did hand motions as one of our leaders sang “There’s A Song In the Air” in a clear soprano voice.

As the evening drew to a close we slowly filed down from the stage, picked up a snow white candle and formed two lines up the side aisles of the church. Then the oldest girls lit their candles and turned to light the candle of the girl next to them. Down the rows the tiny flames burst into life as each girl in turn lit the candle of her neighbor.

I cannot put into words the feeling that filled my small heart as the lights in the church were turned out and we stood holding our lighted candles. We sang a final Carol, and I felt Christmas – the “real” Christmas – flood my heart with joy.

The Light of the World had come to dispel the darkness, and it was a gift that had no equal.

“Again therefore Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world; he who follows Me shall not walk in the darkness, but shall have the light of life.’”
John 8:12 (NAS)

Christmas Blessings,
Linda

a repost from my archives

Unto Us

When I turn the calendar page from November to December, I turn on the Christmas Music. I love it all from the traditional carols to the contemporary songs. There is one, however, that stands out from all the rest. When I hear it, the goosebumps start and tears fill my eyes. It can, quite literally, bring me to my knees.

To read the rest of this devotional please click here. I'm writing at Laced With Grace today.

Christmas Blessings,
Linda

"One Thousand Gifts"

Today Ann's book, "One Thousand Gifts" goes on sale in the Kindle edition (the book will be released in January). I am so excited for her, I can hardly contain myself. There is an excerpt from the first chapter here. It is as lyrically beautiful as I knew it would be - moving and inspirational.

I have known Ann for several years now. She is indeed a very special, gifted young woman. Her deep humility and passionate love for the Lord have been such a blessing to me. She lives out her faith, shares from her heart and always, always calls me to a deeper, higher place.

My prayer for her is that the Father will use this book in a powerful way. I know that every word was written with a heart turned toward Him. I pray He will go before her as this book makes its way into the hands and hearts of those who desperately need to hear the story of grace.

All the details for ordering the Kindle edition are here. If you have never met Ann, you are in for a rare treat. She is a precious soul.

Blessings,
Linda

Multitude Monday

"For the Mighty One is holy,
and He has done great things for me.
He shows mercy from generation to generation
to all who fear Him."
Luke 1: 49-50

Giving thanks today for:

- the opportunity to serve through music this weekend; our Christmas Program at church was such a blessing

- our annual Christmas Bingo party; time spent with precious friends - great food, lots of talk and laughter, praying together

- Dad's "4 star" report from his dialysis doctor - her very best patient. How we thank you Father.

- the hope, joy and love that permeate this season

- the house all dressed up for the birthday of all birthdays

- houses twinkling with beautiful Christmas lights

- memories of Christmas past

- Christmas music

- a husband who willingly does the grocery shopping for my Mom and Dad while we girls baked cookies

- the gift

I am thankful for all of you - for the beautiful, encouraging, uplifting posts you've been writing. How you bless. You add so much to this Advent season.

Blessings,
Linda

linking to Ann's today



I have been feeling that I need to spend less time on-line over the next few weeks. There is that tugging on my heart - urging me to slow down and savor these days. I will still write a bit (because I just need to), but please forgive me if I don't visit and leave comments for just a little while.

"What Child Is This?"

"What child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary.

Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.

So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come, peasant, king, to own him.
The King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone him."

William Chatterton Dix (1837-1898)

William Dix was born in Bristol, England and spent most of his life working as manager of a Maritime Insurance Company in Glasgow. When he was 29, he suffered a near fatal illness and was confined to his bed for several months. It was out of this period of time that many of his hymns were born.

He set these beautiful lyrics to the song "Greensleeves" by an unknown composer.

Blessings,
Linda

picture: courtesy of photobucket

Baking Christmas Cookies

She has always baked dozens of Christmas cookies. My memory is filled with visions of tins stacked in the basement to keep cool, the piles growing higher and higher as December 25th approached; watching wide-eyed as an entire gingerbread village took shape under her deft hands; of tantalizing smells that filled every room of the small home of my childhood.

She is recovering well from her broken hip - determined to do everything to get well again. She is even taking tentative steps without the aid of a cane, but...."I just don't think I can bake this year." These days she is , she says, mourning the loss of the things she simply cannot do any more.

"We will come, and we'll do it together!" So three generations gathered in her kitchen yesterday, and the baking began.








There was a brief interruption when a certain young man called from Paris.


Then back to business.


We began with Russian tea cakes.



Then it was Thumbprints. When those were baking in the oven, she said we had done enough for one day. So we set a date for next week. We plan to fill more tins with delicious cookies and our hearts with precious memories.

I don't know what next Christmas will bring. One will be an ocean away. I am thankful for this Christmas; for this day. I leave my tomorrows in His hands. He gives good and perfect gifts.

Blessings,
Linda

Artist

He rolls out canvas of blue
and liberally brushes green


then gently dips the brush
in colors of His own creation.


With brushstrokes only He has mastered,
He adds the sunlight and shadow.

creating a masterpiece
sent to us from heaven's studio



Blessings,
Linda

pictures taken on my walk this morning
linking to One Stop Poetry today

"O The Deep Deep Love of Jesus"

"O the deep, deep love of Jesus! Vast, unmeasured, boundless free;
rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me.
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love;
Leading onward, leading homeward, to Thy glorious rest above.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus! Spread His praise from shore to shore;
how He loveth, ever loveth, changeth never, nevermore;
how He watches o'er His loved ones, died to call them all His own;
how for them He intercedeth, watcheth o'er them from the throne.

O the deep, deep love of Jesus! Love of ev'ry love the best:
'Tis an ocean vast of blessing, 'tis a haven sweet of rest.
O the deep, deep love of Jesus! 'Tis a heav'n of heav'ns to me;
and it lifts me up to glory, for it lifts me up to Thee."
Samuel Trevor Francis 1834-1925



Samuel Frances was born in London, the son of a merchant and artist. As an adult he was a member of Plymouth Brethren Congregation and an open air preacher.

As we focus our hearts on the precious gift given to us in the form of a little baby boy, this hymn reminds me of the great love that compelled Jesus to leave heaven and all that encompassed, to come to earth to redeem a lost and dying people. The enormity of the sacrifice takes my breath away.

"In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins."
I John 4:10

Blessings,
Linda

His Hands

"And she gave birth to her first-born son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."
Luke 2:7
With the eyes of my heart I look over the young girl's shoulder and watch as she begins to wrap the newborn baby in the cloths she had packed all those days ago before they began the long, arduous journey. She cradles His hand in her own, counting the tiny fingers once again - pressing them to her lips in a tender kiss.
The promised gift has come in the form of helpless babe.

The years slip swiftly by, and I see the questions and wonder in her eyes as she looks across the table at hands grown calloused from work at the carpenter's bench - hands that held tightly to hers not so very long ago.

I see tears fill her eyes as the day comes for Him to leave the childhood home and begin the work He has come to do. What pride and joy shine from those same eyes as she watches those hands reach out to heal and minister to the needs of those that follow after Him.

Just three short years later, and there is unbearable pain and anguish in her eyes as she looks at those precious hands splayed out on a wooden beam - pierced and bleeding. Hours later, did she once again tenderly cradle those hands as they prepared His body for burial?

Afterward they gathered together, those who had loved Him and were devastated by the loss. Was she there too? Did she look with eyes filled with fear when He suddenly appeared in their midst, or did those mother eyes recognize her child in this risen Lord? Did she hear Him say:

"See My hands and My feet, that it is I myself; touch me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have."
Luke 24:39
Those precious hands, once so tiny and helpless, now forever scarred with the imprint of a love that cannot be measured. No longer the hands of her child, they were the hands of her Lord.

Blessings,
Linda

linking to Emily's imperfect prose today.

picture: photobucket florence000001

Dream

A dream set in motion
by heavenly word
A child to be born
she would one day call Lord.
A dream that invited
her heart to take wing,
Seeing the time all would
see Him as King.

Did she see in her dreams
from her small, humble home
A day when this Son would
stake claim to the throne?
Did she even imagine
the way of the cross,
The pain and the heartache,
the deep sense of loss?

Though it seemed like her dreams
had just slipped through her hands,
The Maker of dreams
had a far greater plan.
A dream far more glorious
than any she'd known,
A dream for the ages
to take us all Home.

I, too, have dreamed dreams
that I thought were His will,
And I've stood in the ruins,
shattered and still.
Yet He comes to assure me
that His dream is best
He asks, as He asked her,
to trust Him and rest.

linking to One Stop Poetry
(this is a repost from the archives)

Blessings,
Linda