Christmas Eve Morning 1993

I wrote this 16 years ago and would like to share it today.

PRAISE GOD FOR JESUS

Praise God for the brow of Jesus.

Holding the secrets of the universe.

United with the Father and Spirit.

Aching with the burdens of the crowds.

Furrowed by this friends' lack of faith.

Bleeding from a crown of thorns.

Praise God for the eyes of Jesus.

Eyes seeing the pain, suffering, and humiliation of an earthly existence.

Eyes earth bound in a body but constantly lifted upward in prayer.

Eyes weeping for his friend, Lazarus, and for his beloved city, Jerusalem.

Eyes bright with promise of new life.

Praise God for the ears of Jesus.

Ears awakening to the the laughter of children.

Ears listening to the pleadings of the blind, sick, and lame.

Ears taking in the questions of unbelief.

Ears hearing the accusations of enemies.

Praise God for the nose of Jesus.

Dried out by the sand of the desert after 40 days of fasting and prayer.

Repulsed by the stench of corruption in the temple.

Sweetened by the fragrance of oil, poured over his head.

Fueling an appetite for a simple meal of fish prepared with love for his friends.

Praise God for the mouth of Jesus.

Parched, cracked, and bleeding from lack of water.

Praying, praising and thanking the Father for all.

Teaching the workings of an invisible kingdom.

Healing with a word.

Rebuking evil.

Proclaiming truth.

Praise God for the arms of Jesus.

Arms lifted up in thanksgiving and praise.

Arms embracing the innocence and trust of children.

Arms bound behind his back.

Arms stretched out for the sins of all.

Praise God for the hands of Jesus.

Hands healing with a touch.

Hands blessing the bread and wine of a peace agreement.

Hands transforming a few fish into a feast for thousands.

Hands washing the feet of his disciples in the spirit of servanthood.

Hands nailed to our cross of salvation.

Praise God for the side of Jesus.

Pierced to release the blood and water of death.

Praise God for the legs of Jesus

Legs wading through the waters of the Jordan for John's baptism.

Legs standing tall as he commanded the sea and skies to be still.

Legs kneeling in prayer, beseeching the Father's will.

Legs falling under the weight of the cross.

Praise God for the feet of Jesus.

Feet carrying him from town to town with Good News for all.

Feet washed with the tears of faith.

Feet tired after standing all day, preaching to the few and the many.

Feet nailed to the hard, splintered wood of a common cross.

Feet lifting him up to heaven.

Praise God for Jesus who now sits at the right hand of the Father, interceeding for us.

For God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son so that anyone who believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

JOHN 3:16

Christmas Letters

Allowing myself to be bustled and bamboozled into a Christmas frenzy is usually my own fault. The Christmas list of to-dos seems to go on forever and unfortunately, I have been more focused on tasks rather than the joy of the season. For the past few years I have not sent cards or letters to wish anyone the good cheer I do wish them. So this year, I planted my fingers firmly on the keyboard and typed away some letters to the people who, because of distance, I won't be able to say, "Merry Christmas," to in person. As I wrote each letter (no singular format this time), I took the time to mentally picture the person (s) to whom I was writing, and I found myself thoroughly enjoying the act of letter writing once more. It felt good to share the past year's events with friends who I don't see as often as I would like. One letter was especially sweet to write because it finally made up for a negligence. Let me explain.

About eight years ago, when I was teaching at at middle school, I had organized a prayer group that consisted of some teachers. We would meet in my classroom once a week and pray for the needs of the students, school and each other. Our music teacher, Rebecca, was usually present for these weekly prayer meetings. When I left that school for another, Rebecca kept my address and would always send me a Christmas card and letter with a personal note expressing her thanks for our past prayer times. Her letters expressed the joy and hope, and peace that come from a relationship with the "Birthday Boy," himself. I never responded to her cards or letters. I would read them, place them on a pile and turn then away to Christmas cleaning, cooking or worse --complaining. This year is different, I wrote to Rebecca and wished her the peace, love and joy she always extended to me. I hope she reads it and realizes how much her gift of a simple letter has finally meant to me.