Some questions are best forgotten and some need be looked squarely in the face and answered. I found an envelope full of old, faded and curly pictures. I thumbed through them only for a quick decision as to keeping or toss away. In the collection were a dozen pictures of me taken in various shows I had done. I transferred a few to a better storing place and glanced through the others pausing only to recognize the plays they represented. Theater memories are wonderful visitations from history and I lingered over each picture – in  – most of them was me. Me, young, slender, pretty in make up and costume, a youthful leading lady able to stretch to a few character parts, comedienne and classical actress – me – a me that once was. And the thorn of a question interrupted the roses of reverie. Whatever happened to that me? The question held serious portent comparing the me that was with the me that I am and I hastily dismissed it, but the question popped up again. What happened to that me? To silence the question I dared to answer – hesitant at first, but then turning the question mark into an exclamation point!

Life verse: Proverbs 3:6: In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.

That’s what happened to that me. Not bad, not bad at all! I recommend the adventure; In all your ways acknowledge Him and celebrate the paths He will direct.

Dear Friends,

For me Christmas comes with a whispering crowd of memories: memories of my small three person family busying itself with the hiding of gifts, with the whispered telling of Christmas stories, and the unpacking of ornaments hidden away with the Christmas wrappings.

As an adult, during my one Christmas away from home, the closeness of friends held to the hiding of gifts and once a surprise Christmas party, announced as a business meeting: hidden things waiting for the proper timing of their celebration.

The bold history of Christmas honors its hidden things: tucked away in the messages to prophets; one mysterious star hidden away in the clouds; hidden away in the womb of a virgin; hidden in the sudden songs to shepherds; hidden in a tiny town and tucked away in a manger; hidden in the hearts of those few who waited for a king and saw no sign of His coming; and hidden in the politics of their day, which included a mysterious taxing of its citizens – divinely hidden things.

Christmas lives in the hiding places of the hearts, waiting for its cue. And so it was that the secrets were opened, and the shepherds called, and a rumpled manger held the King of Kings.

So ring the bells … sing the songs … let the season right the wrongs. Light the lights in love’s bright glow. Christ was born in Bethlehem … many years ago. Merry Christmas; may God reveal to you His joy, hidden in the dailyness of life, and grant you the harmony of peace.

With Love,

Jeannette Clift George

——————————————————————————————————————————

Purposes Clearly Known

Sometimes good intentions lead to bad results.  Take for instance the morning I chose to clean out my medicine cabinet.  Blessed with good health I sought to go through the drawer crammed with ointments, sprays, pill bottles and a five-year supply of bandages.  My good intentions turned sour within the hour, but such projects demand fulfilling once they have begun.  I tossed out the medicines that had expired (thanking them for their investment in my good health), collected those holding some similarity in needs met (allergy, mosquito bites, burns and blisters) sorted the scattered collection of bandages, cotton balls and thermometers and then turned my attention to a vast number of medical tenders for which I had no clue as to their usage.

What happily passing ailment had needed a brown liquid that bore no name?  For what purpose were the two small containers of ointment without reasonable labeling of identification?  There was a stack of items for unknown purposes.

As I carded and discarded, I thought of the sadness in lost purposes; ambitions turned sour in the distance of happening, remedies turned ineffective by the droning of time and circumstance.  And then I thought of the gladness where purposes are clearly known, such as Christmas.

Now I know the grandeur of Christmas does not belong in the miscellanea of such insignificant listing, but isn’t it wonderful that it doesn’t?  In the mixture of politics and poverty and passages, isn’t it wonderful to claim a season packed with the reasonableness of joy?

There may be, in the celebration, the glistening tears of losses remembered, the sudden accounting of changes not always for betterment and the accounting of years that mounted suddenly while we were focused on immediacy.  Such things dull the lights around the Christmas tree, but the reasonableness of the holiday is still clear.  Christmas is a reasonable celebration.  God humanized Himself and wrapped up the gift of fellowship regardless of the timing of its practice.  Fellowship.  Fellowship with the Most Holy God of the universe Who catalogued His Christmas Gift in a manger and commanded the choristers to sing of His Glory, fellowship with family and friends and foreigners who drift by in robes of royalty, fellowship with memories that stamp the future with hope and surprise us with joy that happens right in the midst of the mellowness of time either crowded or empty.

Christmas comes with its reasonableness intact, its prescription clearly written and just when we needed it the most!  God’s good intentions lead us to joy.  He kept His Promise!  The centuries of the oath of God cause the angels to sing in the very fact of realization.  He will keep His promise to you and He will keep His promise to me.  His prescription for joy is always up to date.  Claim for yourself a moment, a memory and a manger.  The celebration is reasonable and joy is its purpose.  Prescription for the day – Merry Christmas!  God loves you!

With love,

Jeannette Clift George