Sitting here on a cold, wet Saturday, watching the wood burn in the fireplace, I can’t help a bit of meditating. I’m thinking about my late friend Sandy and life and death in general. I wonder how much Jesus thought about death before he died on the cross. He knew he was going to die. That was the plan from the beginning. He realized he would die a slow painful death by crucifixion, yet he was willing for our sakes to go through with it. He said he was the good shepherd who would lay down his life for his sheep, and those weren’t just empty words. We honor those who are willing to sacrifice their lives for our freedom—the military, police and fire rescue personnel—so shouldn’t we honor Jesus even more? He died to give us freedom too, freedom from sin and guilt and death. He gave us what this world of materialism cannot, the inner joy and peace of knowing how much we are loved and included as God’s very own sons and daughters. That’s something we can’t get from what we can buy or from other people or from our own successes. That’s amazing grace, folks! 

Reba is moving. Who’s Reba? If you lived in the community I live in, you would know. Reba is one of the fun people. She’s the tall woman in the purple shirt, colorful leggings and funny socks. She’s also the first one to greet you with a hug and call you darlin’ when you enter the room. We have played golf together and we line dance in the same group. She admits she’s better at line dancing than golfing but it doesn’t matter, everyone wants Reba on their team. Now that’s she moving west to be closer to her family, our calendars are getting filled up with Reba going-away parties. Yesterday at our WGA golf meeting we wore purple shirts and crazy colored long socks in her honor. She got up and said she loved every single one of us in the room. And we believe her! I don’t know what church she goes to or what her religious views are, but I do know people love people who love people. No one feels they’re not included when Reba’s around. What a gift!

One of my neighbor’s trees died. We had some strong winds and branches broke off from the dead tree and landed in our yards. The tree is right next to my yard, but not close to my house so no major problem, except the mess. Though I make a regular habit of removing branches from my yard, I thought it’s his tree and his branches, so I’ll wait until he removes them. I waited through the next week, thinking he’ll probably get around to picking them up on the weekend. The weekend came and the branches were still there. So last Sunday afternoon after church, I began dragging limbs to my backyard limb pile. I was not happy. But, as I was making trip after trip dragging limbs, mumbling under my breath, it came to me what I should do. If this had happened to Jesus he would have happily cleared away all of the limbs, including his neighbor’s. So that’s what I did.

Several weeks ago I wrote about a friend with recurring bouts of cancer. Though she always displays a positive but realistic attitude about her health, this time when I called her, she was frightened. She had every right to be. Last weekend when one of her sons called her repeatedly, there was no answer. Worried, her son went to her home and found her. She had died, right there at home. I’m shocked and grieved, yet wonder if God didn’t take her quickly so she didn’t have to suffer through her last battle with cancer. I’m going to miss her so much. We were going to get together with other friends for lunch next week. Not only me, but the town is going to miss her. She was active in Friends of the Library and on the Zoo board. She volunteered at Christmas for the Salvation Army, standing out in the cold with her little bell and a smile. She was also a Home Hospice volunteer and she sang in her church choir. In spite of her health problems, she was active in the community. God knows best and he loves you more than we ever can, but we’re going to miss you, Sandy.

Do you like Christmas music? When we hear it played incessantly in stores, even before Thanksgiving, we might hesitate to answer that question. In our community choir we’ve been practicing Christmas music, and yes, before Thanksgiving. It’s not the usual carols we need to practice so much, but our director challenges us every year with new, four-harmony pieces that take some serious practice to learn. So, all through the day and night, this music runs through my brain. It can’t be helped. I don’t really mind; it’s very inspirational and much better than the canned music we hear on our shopping trips. But, think about it, even canned music can help remind us of what this special season represents, so let Rudolf fly and let the sleigh bells ring. We’re celebrating the birth of our King!

Joshua was their firstborn. He was born like all babies were born at the time. There were some differences—no midwife or loving grandmothers in attendance and in inhospitable, unsanitary conditions. Oh yes, and he was, from birth, also in danger of his life. We know him by his Greek name Jesus, but Mary called him Jeshua, which translates as Joshua in English. He was the Firstborn, not only Mary’s firstborn, but the firstborn of us all. As we decorate our homes for Christmas and write our Christmas cards and decide on gifts and presents for family and friends, let’s also celebrate the greatest gift we’ve been given. God himself who came in human form, the first born to grow up and live the perfect life we couldn’t, die for our sins and be resurrected so we, through him, could be reunited with our Triune God forever. Thank you, Jesus!

Though we wished the rest of our family was with us, the four of us had the most relaxing Thanksgiving in years at the beach in Port Aransas. The large spread at Virginia’s on the Bay had something for everyone with all the traditional foods one would expect, plus some extras. (The Cowboys winning their annual game against the Red Skins was a nice touch too.) And, what is it about water! Listening to the ocean waves is so calming. It was overcast for several days but the full moon peeked out at night, sending its reflection shimmering across the incoming waves. Then the sun came out! Watching the golds and reds of the sunrise over the surf from our sixth floor balcony, with sea birds combing the waves for breakfast, was memorable. Who could not be thankful for all we have been given. Thank you, Lord, for your many blessings!

He didn’t mean to hurt his Auntie T. Two-year-old Wyatt was so excited when he saw her, he rushed up behind her and grabbed her around her legs to give her a hug. This sent her tumbling. She has abrasions on the side of her face, shoulder and on her hand, but the worst damage was to her right knee, which she fell on, hard. It’s swollen and painful and she is having to work from home for a few days because she can’t drive until the swelling goes down. Thankfully, with the holiday, it’s a short week. Wyatt and his sister Ella love my daughter, Tina, because she takes the time to get down on the floor and play with them. She’s a fun auntie. When he realized she was hurt, he was so sad. But Tina comforted him, telling him she knew he didn’t mean to hurt her. BTW, this is not going to stop her from going to Port Aransas for Thanksgiving. We’re determined she’s going, even if we have to carry her!

If you’ve been following my meanderings for a while you know I spent Halloween this year at the beach with my niece. Well, my exuberant description of being down at the Texas coast must have sparked a trend. My son-in-law, Bill, called and said, “Don’t laugh. Promise not to laugh!” Then he told me they planned to go to Port Aransas for Thanksgiving. Want to go? So two of my daughters and my son-in-law and yours truly are going to the beach for Thanksgiving. (Yes, I laughed.) Usually our family gets together for Thanksgiving, but this year various ones are traveling to have Thanksgiving with friends or other relatives. We who were left wondered what we would do. So, don’t feel sorry for us. Even if the weather isn’t conducive to sunning or swimming, we’ll be very thankful as we look out at the waves from our lovely warm beach condo.

Does your church have a Christmas program every year? The Christmas story is one of the most beautiful and meaningful expressions of God’s love for us in the Scriptures. But when I received the email inviting me and others to participate in this year’s Christmas program, I was a little leery. Would you like to be on the praise team or read a recitation or act in a skit? Knowing our enthusiastic worship leader’s penchant for funny presentations, I opted for the praise team or recitation. Even when these programs are not supposed to be funny, when you see your friends up there dressed as shepherds or angels, it’s funny! So now I’m to be the narrator of the program.I think I can handle that. Even if it turns out to be funny, at least I’m not trying to act. But it will be all right. Though God himself may be amused at our efforts, I’m thinking he will also be pleased.