Winding down...

                        I will have worked one day out of twenty four, when I return back from vacation...

              I had many plans for projects and trips hidden inside my cerebellum. In the grandiosity of my mental planning, somehow I'd forgotten that Christmas was smack dab in the middle of this scheduled time off.

                    That shouldn't really affect anything. Maybe if our disposable income were higher or I had informed my Wonderful Wife a few months earlier, we could have created a savings plan, and things would have been different...

                            I'm pretty happy it has went the way it has, though...

                           Not often have I had the chance to just " be" with my entire family for an extended time. Every other vacation was spent either running or doing. 

                                               That's not a bad thing.

                                I like vacations away, mountains, lakes or oceans...

                                            Of course, I prefer oceans...

                                    I'm not a fan of agendas, though. I'm not a planner. Most of the time, if decisions are left to me, I will just bumble around and then head toward water...

                  There I will find the boardwalk and zig zag thru crowds, asking where to get the best food.

                                         Ask the locals what's needed to be seen...

                Then grab a meal and hit the hotel pool with Wonderful Wife and McMonkeys in tow...

                                     Projects are another matter. I'm not great at planning them either.

                                       Usually these are planned by my better half...

                                   We made a deal long ago, when we moved into this house. She would decide what she wanted renovated and design the original plan. Choose fixtures, paint colors and any other accessory needed...

                                  Often budget or time constraints hampered many of her planning options.

                   Sadly, my Wonderful Wife has had to compromise a lot of her vision for the sake of these constraints... Gotta give her a lot of credit. She compromised a lot...

                                But historically, we have budgeted time and money each year, to fix something.

                                       We had the time, this time,  but not the dinero...

                                    So I cooked a lot of meals and did a lot of relaxing. Had the chance to have a lot of unrushed conversations with both my children and Wonderful Wife...    

                                  The kids are spending more time with friends. They make their own breakfasts and get their own snacks. If they want to watch Netflix, they know how to use all the remotes...

                           Aside from the occasional lizard sitting, none of the other miniature members of our family really need a whole lot of direction...

                     I do need to remind them of things. Homework. Picking up things.

                                                             Deodorant...

                                          They are growing up. Much quicker than I am liking...

                                          I stop both moms and dads in stores now, when their tiny little children are screaming, running circles around all the aisles and grabbing every article of candy from the display they can get their grubby little hands on...

                                          As their look bi-polarly swaps from frantic to apologetic to that compressed parental mini rage that is socially inapropriate, yet is evident in every mother or fathers eyes, when surrounded by their own tiny children for any length of time...

                                        ... I tell them that believe it or not, they are going to miss these times.

   Diapers and formula and the urge to buy one of those child/ backpack/ leashes...

                                            When your kids still actually need you...

                                  They never get it. They give you that look, the pleasant-because they have to be, too tired to be condescending, but knowing that every single word you are saying to them is total bull crap " look"...

                             They really don't get it... Just like we never got it when parents of tweens told us the exactly same thing...

                                            It's ok... No parent has ever gotten it. Every one of us was too darn busy trying to keep their children alive while figuring this whole " raising child" thing, on the fly...

                                          So like I said, I'm happy it has went the way it has these last twenty four days... I spent a lot of relaxed time with all those I love.

                         The kids go back to school the same day I go back to work.

                                                  That's pretty cool...

Reload...

                         I would like it better, to talk about firearms and how the title relates to them, rather than a lot of the things I will eventually have to say...

               Hunting and shooting and guns. Manly things, with connotations of our amplified male selves using cool new technologies, to bring out our inner Neanderthal...

                                       That would be a much better topic...

               Fishing, cars, even sports, would probably prove more interesting, than what's coming, I'm sure...

                            This isn't about cars, fishing or guns. Please trust me on that.

                             It has nothing really to do with hunting, either... If it was, I'm sure it would be a much, much, more exciting read...

                                 

                                  I will be spending two days and nights together with many of the men in our Church at the end of this month. Up north, in a secluded camp...

            Not exactly like " The Shining", of course. There will be a fully staffed kitchen and really good food... But cell coverage is non existent... And who ever really knows where Jack Nicholson will show up?!?

                     We won't be spending any considerable time doing the activities we usually use to distract ourselves, in the time we spend together, there...

                                       

                                         Our Church calls it a "Reload"...

                               

                              I have went on one of these before, four or five years ago and found out that i got a lot out of it. We focused on what The Bible says about the duties and responsibilities that come with being a Christian man, husband, father and Church member...

                            Doesn't sound so bad. Philosophic discussions on responsibility and duty...

                                                      Manly stuff... Hoorah!

                   But it doesn't stop there. The scary thing about it, is that is just where we begin...

                          

                                    If you've read this blog more than two or three times, you probably realize that emotional intimacy with people other than my direct family makes me uncomfortable...

                 I'm not even good at that, a lot of the time, with my own family of origin...

                                          I do " philosophic" pretty well, though...

                           I am much more in my element, speaking about home projects, tools, smoking pork shoulders or baking the occasional lasagna...

                         We can debate Harbor Freight price versus Snap- On tool quality...

                                 Tire pressure fluctuations between winter/ summer seasons...

                                      Hellmans mayonnaise vs. Miracle Whip...

                                 ( OK... That last one was a no brainer. Hellmans, of course...)

                                     The point is, that most men would rather contemplate a prostate exam than ruminate about sharing our inner fears and the questions we have about all these rolls that we are expected to inhabit....

                                     Most of us would rather wander cluelessly in the uncharted wilderness than admit we are lost and ask for directions, back to familiar cross roads...

                                            Guess it's a guy thing...

                                         I like a lot of the men in our Church. In the past, I've had some pretty deep and emotionally revealing conversations with many of them...

                         But we did have the opprotunity to walk away, afterwards...

                            Jump in our cars and drive opposite directions. See each other days later, shake hands and talk about the latest Home Depot flyer...

                               The problem... No, the solution to that problem is, that after the small groups that have very personal and intimate focus on measuring our true progress as dads and husbands...

                   Identifying the strengths and inevitable weaknesses and occasional complete misses we share as a gender, we leave those groups for a short time and soon, step right back in...

            No convenient escape. No appointment or other place we're needed...

                               We commit ourselves to " Show up"...

                                     And continue " Showing up"...

                                            For the entire two days...

                                          

                           It might seem like I don't want to go. That is not the case.

                               Maybe there is a little reticentce, still, but what I would like to stress is that this is probably the best opprotunity for men to connect with other men, in our Church that they will probably ever get...

                   It is extremely scary, to some. No one I know who attends feels completely comfortable in it. But the truth is, that comfort is one of the greatest common enemies to spiritual growth...

         It, and complacency. We all tell ourselves that we are fine. No evident problems, no real issues that need our immediate and shared attentions...

                                    Because we all know... We are all fine...

                  No need to spend $ 150 to hang out with a bunch of guys, talking about struggles, strongholds and doubts...

                                      But I have yet to hear one of the wives in the Chuch agree with any of that.... Most I have met see $150 dollars as a pretty cheap investment in their family and in the husband they love...

                                In truth, I would rather hit the ocean with my family and take advantage of my built in buoyancy ... But my rathers aren't the point...

                                 

                                  I think as a husband and as a dad, that I'm doing ok...

                                    On a good day, my Wonderful Wife may even agree...

                              

                          But I have never been either a husband or father before; any middling success that happens has nothing to do with my knowledge or skill. I do search for guidance sometimes, from God, friends and mentors... But this is a very different world that my kids are dealing with than the one I grew up in.

                                        I don't want to be a " middling" dad...

                             I want every possible advantage in guiding three good kids into a manhood our culture never accurately defines. I want to demonstrate that contrary to our own internal, innacurate confirmations, going things alone is often more foolhardy than effective...

                I want my boys to know that being a dad is the most important job a man can ever have.

                                The only real, meaningful legacy I will ever have will be my children. In ten years, nobody will really care what my companies profit margin was in our first quarter of this year...

         No one will be concerned how many dishwashers I'd owned, when I cross those pearly gates..

                                                   ( Stealing an old friends quote)

                                     So I will gladly go to an uncomfortable two day long encounter, to learn how to be a better man, so I can raise better men...

                                     That's as concise as I think I can get it...            

New Years Revolution...

 

                      It's been a great year, although reasonably uneventful...

                           That is not a bad thing. I consider it a positive, in fact.

                   So New Years Eve beckons the age old questions about the future.

                                    What would I like to do different, this year?

                                         What would I like to change?

                         

                                 The short answer, for me is " not a whole lot".

                          

             That is kind of a slap in the face to the whole " New Years Resolution" sentiment...

                  

                                            I'm not going to focus on changes. 

                     Change comes from the heart and God holds mine in His hand. If I remain open and teachable, His work will happen, in His perfect timing...

                  That does not remove any responsibility or accountability from my shoulders, it just clarifies the perspectives, a little bit...

                                             So I do not resolve to change anything.

                               What I do " resolve" to do, is to try my best to do some of the things I already do, just a little bit better...

                              Like to take an extra breath before speaking to my grumbling, hormonal son...

                      To remember patience and understanding are needed far more than frustration and anger; that he is perplexed more by his own behaviors and attitudes than I will ever be...

                                                   Let me start with that one...

                        To think the best of the people in my life when situations imply in my little mind, that they purposely chose to offend me...

                               Almost never, is that the case. My thin skin and insecurities always lead my thinking askew, into the inevitable and unenviable lands of apology and regret...

                        To remember almost nothing done in this life is as personal as I tend to take things...

                               And if by some miracle, it actually is, then that's ok, too..

                                    We are all Gods children. We all make mistakes.

                           Maybe to notice more those who are struggling under their own weights, those who overload themselves with tasks that are numbingly overwhelming...

                                         To offer help to the ones who will not ask...

                                    I certainly could stand to do that, a little more often...

                             To Pray first, instead of judging first...to practice love instead of resentment...

                   Improvement in all these areas trumps anything else I can come up with to " change"..

                                Maybe, for one year, this is a difficult enough list...

                                        To be better. Not to earn Grace or favor; not in any attempt to " trick" God into believing I'm " good enough"...

                                    He knows I'm not. He holds my heart and knows the full content of my soul; every inadequacy and imperfection and selfish thought...

                    But to be better, to try to do better, because it is simply what I'm supposed to do...

                                          Love more. Judge less. Forgive often...

                                               Simple is almost never easy.

            Usually, the level of difficulty of any task is directly proportional to its level of simplicity... 

                                                 

                                                And love is the simplest task of all...

2014...

                           For years we swore to each other that we would get no pets...

                              I myself, have always been more of a cat person. 

                   Simple, reasonably self sustaining and clean. No slobber, no stepping in dog turds when mowing the lawn and none of that sappy unconditional love that makes people like me feel extremely uncomfortable...

                  Cats on the other hand, have an innate sixth sense that tells them moments before you REALLY have to go the bathroom. They will run from three rooms away at that time, to leap into your lap, circle exactly two and a half times, then melt into a furry semi circle, fully asleep in seconds...

                   If you move them, they spurn you for weeks or until the next time your bladder expands, sitting in a recliner...

                         So we used the fact that my father, who lives with us, is allergic for the excuse de- jour about pets for years. They love their grandpa, so no one complained...

                                   Sad, yes.

                                    Dejected, assuredly...

                                      Accepting... reasonably so...

                        But as children grow, a disturbing side affect takes place.

                                    They get smarter...

                             I don't know who to blame for this troubling predicament, but I don't think I can reasonably accuse this one at common core...

                                 Somewhere my children learned that lizards harbor no allergens...

                                      So now we spend at least one trip a week to purchase twelve dozen crickets that our pet lizard can feast upon, throughout the week.

                                       At least he doesn't poop in the yard...

                            I bring up our lizard, a bearded dragon, for those who don't know, because for the last month or two, he has been shedding.

                             Bits and pieces that sometimes drop like dandruff and other times curl off him in long and wide sections of lizard skin like jerky... 

                                

                            I used to love arguing politics. Parties, weddings, funerals...

              It didn't matter. I guess I've always been a tad bit lacking in the social graces...

                           Something changed inside awhile back.

                                    It just stopped being fun...

                               My heart started seeing things as simply right or wrong and I realized also that arguments over right and wrong accomplish nothing....

                                           These are the issues of the heart and the heart can never be changed by linguistic acrobatics...

                                               It can only be changed by love...

                   There was a time, not so long ago, that I really enjoyed debating religion...

                                   But religion is only politics masquerading as morality...

                                And more often than not, has no more resemblance to the love of God than the politics, itself...

                              With my two favorite past times seemingly removed, I found myself at a definate loss. 

                                                         And much, much quieter...

                                 I spent decades of my life hating myself for a circumstance I thought I caused.

        A situation I could not forgive myself for or allow to be forgiven...

                    I tried letting Jesus take it, but always pulled it back, always retrieved it for my very own..

                                And own me, it did. Separating me from other Christians, from the depth of fellowship they all shared, because if they knew what I carried, even that I still carried something...something that I could not leave in the trust of Jesus... then really, what kind of Christian could I truly be...

                                                 What kind of Christian was I ?

                                So recently it was brought to my attention that what I harbored within myself and hated, never really transpired...

                                  A lie I naively bought, hook, line and sinker...

                                    Freed by God, from something that never really happened...

                                            These changes in who I am and who and what I thought I was, all happened in the past year.

                                                   I have no clue why...

                               This process of " shedding" is certainly as uncomfortable for me as it is for any reptile. With it, I have the cognizance to ask the "whys".

                                                          The "why nows"..

                                         Why clean a vessel so tattered and torn?

                                     What possible purpose could be planned in this?

                                                    I have absolutely no clue...

                                                              Seriously.

                                        I do know that the purpose of a vessel is to carry something of value to some other person or some other place. To sacrificialy protect its given contents...

                            To keep it safe and not allow it to be diluted or contaminated...

                                  Now I have nothing inside of me like that. I do have Jesus, but most all of us share that attribute. I am no different than any of you...

                                                    Maybe that's the point.

                       Maybe, as these things are removed, piece by piece, the purpose is to eventually separate me from that chair in the back...

                                   Like I said, I have absolutely no clue...

                          So these are some of the changes from 2014, in my life...

                             Quite a freaky and blessed year...

                                     

                                   

                          

                    

A miracle on Poplar Street....

                                     We swapped things around a little this year...

                   Usually we head over the mountain and through the woods to my Moms house earlier, on Christmas Eve afternoon. 

                     This year, the plan was to hit the 5:00 service at Church, then go to my mothers for dinner, presents and to celebrate all that transpired over 2000 years ago...

                 I've shared a couple times here about my mothers failing health. She has a constant and worsening struggle with fairly advanced COPD...

             It's been difficult watching probably the strongest woman and most " can do" person I've ever met, reduced physically to needing a breathing treatment between the trip from her kitchen chair to the couch in her adjoining living room..

                       I'm still struggling with staying " philosophicle" about that...

                            But this woman absolutely adores her grand kids. 

                                                           Belay that...

                                             She has a love for them that is bigger than I've seen in her life for anything or anyone else... Probably the closest second to that would be for my Wonderful Wife, who bore the three of them, for her...

                                 I'm thinking that's exactly how my mom would probably put it...

                               

                                 So, this woman who can barely navigate her trailer on bad days, spent months cutting patterns and sewing her special handmade pajamas for all three of my bubbers...

          She doesn't drive often because the trip to and from her vehicle is much longer than the one between kitchen and living room. Most of the time, her brother does her grocery shopping for her.

                           But... She braved that trip a couple times, oxygen tank and all, in the last months, along with a few Wal- Mart walk throughs, to find the presents to completely blow away any semblance of sanity, perspective or rationality about gift giving, for her grandchildren...

                               Now MaryAnne and i have been stressing minimizing gifts and presents on Jesus's birthday, lately...

                    Quite strongly, in fact. For years we had the children give grandma a SMALL list, after we edited it, after we instilled some semblance of balance and scale...

                                                          Not this year. 

                                                                Nope...

                                                     I should have known...

                                                 To be truthful, I think I did...

                                             We walked into baked lasagna, baked ham and all the fixings; sliced veggies, chips and assorted dips. Home made chocolate cake, ice cream and jello...

                                On her average days, lately, ordering a pizza had been a struggle....

                                    Her Christmas tree was up, lights on and decorated. More packages than I've seen in one place in a lifetime,  were piled throughout the living room.

                                        

       As food was being plated, I began to say a prayer of thanks, for Jesus, for family, for love...

                                       And she stopped me before five words were said.

                                  

                              My mother then raised her voice in praise of God and thanked Him for the strength He had given her, to have this day..

                                        She praised God for the gift of family, for the love of family...

                                               For the time granted with them...

                                                  

                                             I do not recall ever in the past, hearing my mom pray.

                            

                                          Shes not one to put her spiritual beliefs on her sleeve..

                                                   

                                                   My jaw dropped, as did my Wonderful Wife's..

                                                    The kids just smiled, happily, awaiting dinner.

                                              But the dad...this dad... A lump developed in my throat and a strange mixture of astonishment, thankfulness, blessing and fear overwhelmed me...

                  Since I was wearing dress shoes ( the only non-steel toe shoes i own), I was able to step on my own foot, while everyone else was distracted...

                   Hard enough to curtail all my emotional confusion with actual physical pain...

                         

                                          Short story long, it was an incredible night..

                                      The children no longer ooo and ahh over Christmas lights.

                                              None of them "believe" anymore about elves or cookies for Santa or reindeers... And I do miss the Santa cookies...

                                      But between my mom and the God she glorified...

                                              True Christmas magic happened..

                                         I'm not one for over the top materialistic displays, but thankfully, that evening, I was able to see beyond apearances...

                                         The grandeur in the trailer that night had nothing to do with the abundances of physical things, I realized. 

                         This is probably the last time my mom will ever be able to do this, ever...

                             The COPD is progressing faster than I want to acknowledge.

                                I hope there are many more years left of Christmas's with grandma, but I am doubting she will ever be able to manage anything like she has, in those years coming...

                    I think that the strongest woman I know may have realized this herself...

                      Acknowledged it and asked her God for the opprotunity to create one last amazing Christmas...

                     As Jesus turned water into wine, He also put His hand into creating this...

                                                   

                                                        Merry Christmas.

                                 

Brothers...

                                  Got hijacked at about two in the afternoon, today...

                      Actually it started at 9:00 am. My dad was up all night and wanted me to bring him to the doctors office. So too urgent care we would go...

                    Turns out he needed a catheter.. I know. Gross...

                            My Wonderful Wife took the three Bubs to Church service and I missed it.

              Didn't even get to watch Charles Stanley before I left...

                        When I returned and finished my coffee, the two youngest started asking if I would bring all three of them up to The Victory Mills Monument. Their mom brought the trio sledding there the day before and the snow was slowly beginning to melt. Unfortunately, I was busy cooking an unmentioned mystery meat....

                                         I told them I'd let them know...

                                       Remembering last year, I realized that they really didn't get the chance to sled much. Guilt began rising inside of me... It wouldn't take a whole lot of effort, on my part...

                                                     How could I say no?!?

                                   Actual hoots and hollers followed the announcement... I was proclaimed the best dad ever...

                                             They really wanted to go, it seems...

                                        Off we went on a 1/4 mile car ride, three kids, three sleds and one foam cushion to keep my tooshie from freezing, during the wait.

                            They ran up the hill and around the monuments perimeter. There were two little girls and a twenty- something daddy, taking turns going down the hill.

                       The three McMonkeys yelled and screamed and began diving onto their sleds from the

third monument step...

                                  I set my tooshie warmer on the iced granite slab and sat back watching...

                                     Usually being a dad is a mismatch of referee, wardrobe attendant and safety officer. Someone always needs gloves fastened and tucked under the cuffs. Someone usually is thumping another multiple times, on the noggin, with a sled. Someone seems to get an idea, every single time, to dive off the three foot granite slab, onto the sled, firmly resting on an ice packed snow trail...

               And sometimes that CPR class I took at work seems like it might be a worthwhile investment of time...

                        So I watched these three children of mine laughing and joking; they used their amplified outside voices for the entire duration of our stay...

               Soon the young girls and twenty something dad disappeared and were replaced by five kids my middle boys age. They said " hi" and my boys kept sledding together like long lost buddies...

                    I watched them together as they played together and my heart warmed.

                                 They were acting like brothers....

                  Not the nagging, arguing, fighting and frustrated ones that they often are...

                    Not the sullen, quiet screen staring children, hunkered over LED lit screens, thumbs a blazing....

                          Not the nipping little shadow monkeys that lean over each other shoulders, doing all they can to aggravate and harass their brethren....

                               I mean the kind of brothers that are enjoying each others company, actually preferring it... The kind that demonstrate an invisible bond and have been reading each others non verbal shorthand without effort...

                           The kind that instinctively watch out for each other. The ones who conference the plans they are making, plans that include them all. Give and take...

                                  I worried sometimes, that this part of their relationship might never develop. I know it took a long time between my brothers and I...

                                         Maybe that is one of those deeper dad worries, that never coherently surfaces in our daily monologues...

                               Secretly, I think we all want to know that if something happens to us, that our sons will be able to rely on each other; take care of each other, be loyal too and prefer each other over schoolmates and friends, when chips are down...

    It is a nearly impossible trait to teach. It must be individually developed, throughout years of tight quarter tolerances and petty annoyances...

                  There are no guarantees, only quiet hopes, mostly, unspoken..

                         And they spent the entire two and a half ours getting along like this. Even when I gave a twenty minute warning, they stayed together, rushing down the hill, sleds together...

                           My heart was happy. I tugged my ski cap back down over my ears, rubbed my gloved hands together and wrapped my arms across my chest. The cold had begun reaching my core enough to give a noticeable chill, but that was ok...

                                            I wanted to watch this...

                        We went home a little while later too three hot cocoas and one hot tea, water heated and mugs and packets prepped by my Wonderful Wife.

                            I headed straight for an afghan and the couch. A few minutes later I ran upstairs, tossed on my long, thick terry cloth bathrobe and then rushed back down to the couch and abandoned afghan...

                                                     I must be getting old...

                                    It struck me that maybe God sits back and waits to watch the exact same occurrence between His children. That maybe He spends just as much time and concern wanting to observe all of us, acting like that...

                        That maybe His heart sinks, just a little bit, when we fail in this little task...

                            But God does have the benifit of not being encumbered by obstacles like space and time... He has no need to worry...

               But for us dads, it will always be a bit more uncertain. We will always worry because we love our children, and like it or not, worry tends to fit into even a faithful Christian dads job description...

               We try to limit it but know that in many moments, that will be little use...

                  And when it owns us enough, eventually, we will gracelessly attempt to turn it over.

                    We will struggle more and when all our earthly resources are completely depleted, we gratefully hand over the control we never had... To Him, who had it all along...

                            It is the season of peace on earth and brotherhood of men...

                                 But there are many other, less pleasant seasons transpiring, at this moment..

                                     Not so hopeful, not so peaceful...

                                         I'm not sure about those seasons. They are Gods seasons, to direct...

                                         All I know is that on a cold and wind whipped hill, I watched a fraction in time of what is possible between all men. Most of my body froze, but my heart was warmed, as I observed it...

                                              My tooshie stayed warm, too...

                               

Three gifts...

                                    My Wonderful Wife and I did some high intensity interval shopping yesterday and were able to get the majority of our Christmas shopping done for the three McMonkeys...

         Sounds more impressive than it is. All we needed to purchase was a half dozen bananas....

                                                                   Two each...

                                               That cut the holiday budget way down...

                                           Actually, this year has been kind of nice. No giant high price " things" on any of their lists. Nick didn't even make a list. Jake, our nine year old still says he wants whatever is on all the commercials , but funny thing is, his heart doesn't seem to be in it...

                                      We've been speaking more often, in the last few years about smaller Christmas's. Three presents apiece was the Wonderful Wife's suggestion. The wisdom in it was that since Jesus Himself only received three gifts, that that should be enough for anyone else...

                                                But we never held too closely to that one...

                                                   That idea got me thinking... 

                                                         Me and my brain...

                          So I started looking into what the Bible says about giving on Christmas...

                                 Were we doing it right? We hear so much about how commercialism has hijacked the spirit of Christmas in our communities. It is so hard to try to keep the Christmas spirit and the true spirit of Christmas giving in today's world. I realized, though that I had no actual idea exactly what that was...

                                                          So, I hit "The Book"...

                                      Truthfully it was "The Book" on my 1st generation IPad.

                                                  Hope that's not cheating...

                                           And the only situations that I came across about gift giving on that first Christmas had to do with Gods gift to us in Jesus and the gifts brought by the three wise men...

                                              I could not find an instance of the shepherds, Mary or Joseph exchanging presents. Nothing written about those in the inn or even the wisemen trading gifts between each other....

                                                       Now that is confusing...

                                                 And again, I started thinking...

                                         If this whole season of Christmas has absolutely nothing to do with an exchange of gifts, what was it? I know it is a celebration of our Saviors birth and everything He would subsequently do. I know that we celebrate that gift...

                                I looked closer and came to the conclusion in my little mind, that maybe it is deeper than those three physical gifts that the wisemen brought of gold, frankinsence and myrrh ...

                                  I thought of what it took for those three to end up at the stable of Christ's birth.

                                        How much Faith it must have taken to decide to leave the comfort of their own lands, in anticipation of a long and weary journey that most in their world would have scoffed at.

                                       How difficult it must have been to choose obedience and prepare for that journey. It would not be easy or comfortable or short. They took the action required and went, with no earthly guarantee that it would accomplish anything... Faith and Obedience...

                              They did bring physical gifts to honor this newborn King.

                     Not something you could get at Walmart, but treasures. All three gave Sacrificially...

                                   And in looking at this I realized that most everything I thought for a very long time was wrong...

                                 The only Gifts recorded that men gave were not to each other...

                                     They were given, in honor, to a newborn King...

             And the true gifts were not the physical articles, but were the gifts Jesus still desires from us.

                                                                Strong Faith...

                                                       Unhesitating Obedience...

                                                            Sacraficial Giving...

                                                                     

                              I don't think any of that happens under a Christmas tree. 

                                 

                          I'm not a Bible scholar or even a decent student of It, so don't take any of this on face value. Open up your own copy of " The Book" and check for yourselves...

                                    I do know that today I'm looking at things a little bit differently.

                                           Our tree still stands tall and beautiful. The gifts we will be exchanging are still upstairs in our bedroom, waiting for the inevitable wrapping. I am happily looking forward to the traditional opening of presents Christmas morning...

                      And I personally believe that Jesus still smiles down on us, a bit, as we celebrate his birth.

                                     But I don't think anymore, that this type of celebration is the kind that He requires..

                                       I'm thinking that it is a nice family or social tradition, but absent of the important values that those three wisemen demonstrated...

                                            Not quite sure how I'm going to reconcile all this...

                                   Truth be told, I probably won't. The odds are that I will spend a lot of time pondering all this and saying a few prayers. I will bumble it all thru my little brain and try to keep an open heart... Open enough to listen for a still, small voice...

                If anything ever does get reconciled, it will have nothing to do with my efforts...

                                                 Maybe today all that I'm really supposed to do is realize that what I am offering is not what my Savior desires... That maybe the point of this journey of my mind, is to acknowledge the measuring stick, the benchmark, that was demonstrated by three men, two thousand years ago..

                                                                 Strong Faith...

                                                         Unhesitating Obedience...

                                                               Sacraficial Giving...

                                      

                 And maybe, be willing to let Him work inside me to strengthen those values, inside me..

                    And then be willing to demonstrate them, by action, as they are given...