Bringing Tidings of Great Joy

If I was the totally organized, on-top-of-things wife and mother that I want to be, everyone of you would have received a version of this picture for your Christmas card.

Aren't they precious?

But because I'm not even half "totally organized" and only seldom "on-top-of-things", that isn't what happened. I didn't order enough cards. :( And because I ordered them so late, I couldn't order more in time. :(

So, it is my hope that for those of you that I dearly love, and didn't receive a Merry Christmas greeting from the Lancasters by mail, would accept this virtual one. They are both sent with the same amount of care and thought. 

Last year, our card pic was professional. Brandy Jaggers did such a good job with those pictures. They were taken in August and it was so convenient to use one of those lovely shots for our Christmas bit o' cheer. I had no trouble clicking on that image and creating the perfect card and sending it your way. 

This year was a bit more difficult. Ty doesn't like his picture to be taken. At least by me and beside his sisters. Getting all  4 of them much less all 6 of us together in decent clothing and smiling all at the right time is almost impossible for casual photography. I searched through our most recent pictures to try to find at least 4 separate shots of the kids to put on those cards with lots of pictures. NO success. 

I had almost given up on the prospect of a Lancaster 2012 Christmas Card. Maybe next year.

We have really been soaking up Christmas with the kids and on the nights that there are no ballgames or Christmas programs to attend, we have been trying to do something "Christmas special". Well, on this night a couple of weeks ago, after I woke from my Monday nap after working, we ate supper together, bathed the children and then decided that we all needed to load up in the car and go look at Christmas lights. The pajama-clad, blanket-wrapped children were SO on board for this one. 

Our first drive was through our neighborhood and it naturally took us to the beautiful Collins' yard. We have seen it many times this season already, but usually as we semi-slowed down and sailed past. This time we hopped out of the car to get a closer look and enjoy the music more. (Yes, MUSIC!) The Collins' weren't home so we did't venture up too far. The kids were busy saying, "OOooo! Look at that one!", "Oh my, Momma! Did you see that one!". 

Isn't it beautiful?

Well, thankfully, I had my camera. I cried out to the kids, "Let's take a picture of you by the JOY sign!"  The girls immediately shrieked and ran toward the sign. Ty immediately sighed and said, "Oh no. Please, no." I ignored him and shrieked and ran with the girls. Ty warmed up to the idea eventually and wasn't it a beautiful picture. He even took this picture of Eric and I.

After we finished trespassing, we drove around for another 45 minutes or so enjoying the beauty of all the pretty lights in town, thanking God for them and their owners, and happy that we didn't have to do any of the work or store the figures year-round. We had great fun but I couldn't get them to get out of the car again. Not even for the Trojan reindeer on Hickory.

When we arrived home, I downloaded the pictures to my computer and knew that I wanted one of those pictures to be our Christmas card. Those moments in the Collins' yard captured where we are right now. 

We were in our pajamas. (Not Eric but the rest of us.) I wasn't wearing any make-up. My sweats didn't even match. All I heard after I told Tess that we were going to use that picture was, "Oh, Momma! But I have my braids in!" She or I braid her hair for her to sleep in at night. I was glad that the picture showed the REAL us. The US that we are most of the time. We aren't put together. Our blemishes are exposed. There is no veneer to hide behind. 

These past few months have been hard. My illness was only the brink of the iceberg. Someday, I may be able to share with you about the heartbreak, confusion, devastation, and pain that they held; about the struggles we are still experiencing. But for now, just know that they were enough to put us under, to break us, to scar us beyond recognition.  

But that night, as on many nights, when the world would have expected to see defeat, despair, and ugliness, this is what the world would see:

Were we hurting? Yes

Were we disappointed in our humanness? Yes

Were we a long way from fixed? Yes

BUT GOD GAVE US JOY.


Would you bear with me and read this next long passage courtesy of biblegateway.com?

Romans 8:12-39

The Message (MSG)

^12-14 So don’t you see that we don’t owe this old do-it-yourself life one red cent. There’s nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life. God’s Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go!

^15-17 This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through the good times with him!

^18-21 That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.

^22-25 All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

^26-28 Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

^29-30 God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

^31-39 So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.

I shared this on a post long ago but it puts into words in a small way what I get from the above scripture:

I am a sinner.
I deserve to die for my sin.
I can't do anything by myself to save myself from that death.
God is a loving God.
He doesn't want to see me punished.
But God is a just God.
He must punish sin.
God sent His Son to earth to live a perfect life, die on a cross, rise from
the dead to pay the price for my sin.
By trusting in God and by believing in Jesus Christ alone for
eternal life I was saved from this death.
By faith, I transferred my trust from myself to Jesus Christ.
I will go to heaven when I die and live eternally with Him.

Even though I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior,
it doesn't mean that I don't sin. Sadly, I still do. But because
of my relationship with Him, I can ask forgiveness for that
sin and He forgives and forgets and I try to do better.
But because I am His, I can never be separated from Him.

Because of these things, I can have joy despite my circumstance, despite how I feel, and despite what the world might see.

My future is bright in His hands. Because my hope is in Him, I can cry, "What's next, Papa?", instead of saying that all is lost.

This doesn't come easy all the time. Most days it is really hard. But, oh, what we learn in the hard places!

So, this Christmas, the picture of your life may not be perfect. It may be the worst picture you have ever taken. But God sees the real you, and loves you anyway. His is a love that isn't just enough, but greater than your imaginings. His is a love that doesn't quit, walk away, and won't allow anything to tear it from you.

So will you sing with me today, especially if it is for the first time:

Habakkuk 3:17-19

Amplified Bible (AMP)

¹⁷ Though the fig tree does not blossom and there is no fruit on the vines, [though] the product of the olive fails and the fields yield no food, though the flock is cut off from the fold and there are no cattle in the stalls,

¹⁸ Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the [victorious] God of my salvation!

¹⁹ The Lord God is my Strength, my personal bravery, and my invincible army; He makes my feet like hinds’ feet and will make me to walk [not to stand still in terror, but to walk] and make [spiritual] progress upon my high places [of trouble, suffering, or responsibility]!

For the Chief Musician; with my stringed instruments.

Merry Christmas, my friends,

with love from the Lancaster's

We Believe

If you are under 12, quit reading this and log off immediately. Ask your parents to read it first and then let you know if you need to read it.






If you are older than 12,  please don't think that by sharing our traditions that I am saying that the way you do things at your house is wrong. This is just  what Eric and I felt the Lord called us to do in our home with our children regarding Santa Claus.  I am writing this because I have had many people interested in or confused about the way we present Old St. Nicholas and I hope that this explains some of the things that we do and the reasons and thoughts behind those choices and actions.

We have never told our children that Santa Claus brings their gifts to our home on Christmas eve. We don't have reindeer food. We don't have an Elf on the Shelf. We don't leave out milk and cookies. We haven't had stockings every year.

But we don't hate Santa Claus. We like him. We talk about him. We have a few figures of him on our piano and on our tree.

We have shared with the children the origins of Santa Claus. We let them know that the traditions that we have of him come from a fellow who loved God and wanted to be like Jesus. Below is a simple version of the story that we have shared with them:

The real Santa lived a long time ago in a place called Asia Minor. It is now the country of Turkey. His name was Nicholas.

Nicholas' parents died when he was just a teenager. His parents left him a lot of money which made him a rich young man. He went to live with his uncle who was a priest.

Nicholas heard about a man who had lost all his money. He had three daughters who were old enough to get married. But in those days young women had to have money in order to get married. This money was a "dowry" and it was used to help the new family get started. If you didn't have dowry money, you didn't get married.

This family was so poor they had nothing left to eat. The daughters were going to be sold as slaves because they couldn't live at home any longer. They were very sad. They wouldn't be able to have families of their own. And they would have to be slaves—no longer able to decide where they would live or what they would do.

The night before the oldest daughter was to be sold, she washed her stockings and put them in front of the fire to dry. Then all of them went to sleep—the father and the three daughters.

In the morning the daughter saw a lump in her stocking. Reaching in, she found a small, heavy bag. It had gold inside! Enough to provide food for the family and money for her dowry. Oh, how happy they were!

The next morning, another bag with gold was found. Imagine! Two of the daughters would now be saved. Such joy!

And the next night, the father planned to stay awake to find out who was helping his daughters. He dozed off, but heard a small "clink" as another bag landed in the room. Quickly he jumped up and ran out the door. Who did he catch ducking around the corner?

Nicholas, the young man who lived with his uncle. "Nicholas, it is you! Thank you for helping us—I hardly know what to say!" Nicholas said, "Please, do not thank me—thank God that your prayers have been answered. Do not tell others about me."

Nicholas continued helping people. He always tried to help secretly. He didn't want any attention or thanks. Years passed and he was chosen to be a bishop. Bishops look after their people as shepherds look after their sheep. And that is what Nicholas did. When there wasn't any food, he found wheat; so no one went hungry. He always helped people in trouble. All his life Nicholas showed people how to love God and care for each other.

Everyone loved Nicholas. After he died, they told stories of the good and kind things Nicholas had done. Sailors took these stories about Nicholas everywhere they went. Some of the stories were about his special care for children—helping and protecting them when danger threatened. And so more and more people learned about good, kind Nicholas. They wanted to be like him. He is an example of how we should live. And that is why he became a saint.

This is the story of the real Santa Claus, St. Nicholas. To this day people say that St. Nicholas, or Santa, is the special friend of children.

—Carol Myers

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/real-santa/

We have hit a few bumps in the road with this approach. I thought Eric and I had explained carefully that it wasn't our children's job to tell the world what Santa Claus does or doesn't do. We tried to impress upon them that it was each parent's decision when and what to tell their children. When Tess was in first grade that she told her friends that Santa Claus was dead! We talked with her some more, she became older and understood what we were telling her, and I don't think she has done that ever again. It grieved me because I didn't want to push what we have chosen on others any more than I wanted to have other traditions pushed upon us. Because in times past, when we have talked about our custom, we are often met with looks of incomprehension, disgust, and defensive arguments. But to us, we feel the picture we are painting for our babies is just what they need to see.

I know that my kids (as I remember that I did) would love it if some guy came down our chimney and left them everything that the world could offer them. But instead, by letting them know that their parents and loved ones buy their gifts, I hope we let them grasp that there are limits to what they can have beyond their needs and our means.

I was touched that this year, after I have been off work for 2 months, that when I asked them to write down the things that they would like for their Christmas presents, they were thoughtful before they began to make their list. When I went over Ty's list with him, I had to stop him from scratching off most of it because he kept saying "I don't really think I need that, Mom". And when Tess brought me hers, she said, "This is the one thing I most want. If you can't get the other things it is okay". It comforts us to know that they won't be disappointed when they open their presents. That they know we love them and the amount of their gifts is nothing compared to the love and thought that goes into each whether it happens to be 1 or 10.

We know that it is a common thing for folks, in kindness, to ask our children what Santa Claus is going to bring them. Instead, we would love for them to ask the kids, "How are you going to share Christ's love this Christmas?" Or instead of telling them that Santa or his helpers are watching them and sees what they do and keeps track of whether they are naughty or nice, We'd like them to gently remind our kids that God is everywhere and that He sees everything that they do. That He sent His Son, Jesus, to earth to be an example for us. We want them to ask our children to think about what Jesus would do. We want our kids to know that they should behave because Jesus gave them loving boundaries and not just so they can get the things that they want.

When we have had stockings on our mantle, instead of filling them with toys, we place a bag of gold foil wrapped chocolate coins to remind them of the money that Nicholas gave to help the young women to remind them that we should look to SEE needs and GIVE as much as we can to meet those needs.

We believe. We believe that a man, named Nicholas, who became known as Saint Nicholas or Santa Claus, lived and died. He was just a man, but a man who wanted to follow Jesus. But more than anything, we believe in Jesus, whom God was so gracious to send us as a baby, so that the world might have HOPE, experience JOY, and know real, unconditional LOVE. 

Hark! It's Christmastime!

I like Thanksgiving. So I get a little perturbed at times with the rush to get the most out of the Christmas season comes at the cost of skimming over Thanksgiving. When I first see the aisles stuffed with Christmas decorations and hear Christmas music on the radio in October, I cringe a bit. I guess I feel like I am force-fed Christmas early so the retailers can take advantage of me. I won't be taken advantage of! :)

(I don't dislike you if you put your tree up early. It just isn't my choice.)

That being said. I guess that is why it takes me a bit longer to get in the swing of things around this time of year.  But, I love Christmas as much as I do Thanksgiving and I get that excitement in due time. I can usually pin it to a moment in time when I "feel like Christmas".

This year it came last week as I was driving down the road listening to KLOVE. I wasn't really paying attention to it at first. I had tuned the radio out and was thinking of what I had to do that day. I had just dropped Dinah off at day school, so T-5.5 hours until pick-up was GO TIME.

I rolled to a stop at the red-light at Shiloh and Harper and realized Amy Grant was softly singing "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" to me. I began to sing with her.

At the beginning of the song, she sings softly, a cappella.

"Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled."

I begin to sing with her. Gently, with the next verse, the flutes and piccolos join her, and I am covered in chill bumps with wonder at the King.

"Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies.
With angelic host proclaim
Christ is born in Bethlehem
With angelic host proclaim
Christ is born in Bethlehem."

A soft female voices join her along with other instruments. I feel a shoutin' spell coming on. Thankfully, I am able to be on auto-pilot at this point in my journey, because I'm so near to home.

"Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth."

Voices unite to form a full choir to shout and sing,

"Veiled in flesh the Godhead see
Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with men to dwell
Jesus our Emmanuel!
Pleased as man with men to dwell
Jesus our Emmanuel!"

The entire orchestra comes in, the music crescendos. I'm pounding my steering wheel with each word, singing as loud as my lungs allow,

"Hail the heaven born Prince of Peace
Hail the Son of Righteousness
Light and life to all He brings
risen with healing in His wings"

The organ cries out in praise along with me as I have one hand raised and one on the wheel,

"Christ by Highest Heaven adored
Christ the Everlasting Lord
Come desire of nations come!
Fix in us thy humble home
Come desire of nations come!
Fix in us thy humble home."

With tears flowing, I turn off the radio because what could follow that? I drive in silence until I arrive home, turn off the car, I hide my face in my arms over the steering wheel, cry my eyes out, feeling spent but at the same time full of joy. A spirit of peace reigned despite my disheveled appearance.

It was 70 degrees outside. My yard was full of fall leaves. There were pumpkins and withered mums on my doorstep. Inside there were harvest decorations on the mantle. There was no Christmas tree in the living room. But in that moment, in my heart, Christmas-time had come.


Amy Grant "The Christmas Collection"