Today or Tomorrow

          Today, I came to the end of another season of my life. High school - or as close as I ever got to high school. I wrote my last exam at the community college, spent my last half hour out in the sun in the middle of campus, and took my last regular bus ride - here, anyway. There will be plenty of exams in university, plenty of hours spent sitting in the sun, plenty of time spent on the public bus. Unless the system changes drastically in the next three months, which I don't expect it will.
          My strange high school/running start/grade status combined with my distance from the school has meant that I hold almost no loyalty to the school that I've now attended for 6 quarters. I'm normally pretty ready to be loyal, so it was strange not caring about sports or campus life at all. I certainly did not expect to miss it at all (okay, I still don't). But I walked out of building 7 today and headed for the grass and was hit with a feeling of nostalgia. As much as it has been merely a stepping stone to my next stage of life, I have lived here. I have many good memories and met people who have influenced my life significantly. It's because of Char and CeCe that I have developed a love for biology and am choosing to minor in it so as to provide some interest amidst my chemistry major. I met Blake in my first quarter and have attended school and walked through life with him since then; he is a part of many of my sunlit memories spent out on the grass. I made new friends: Sofia, Kellan, Chloe, Alyssa, Dung, and many others. I fought with microbiology, laughed over calculus, and debated which 8 out of 40 people should survive the alien invasion (thanks to MFC-J, an inspiring English teacher). I have learned and grown and laughed and fought and loved and lived in the last two years. I won't miss the bus smell, the noise of the commons, or inadequate "microbiology" lab, but I will miss the sunrises over the mountain, the study room in building 15, the web cafe, the random pieces of art, and our building 13.
          I know that countless memories are yet to be made. I have a host of new experiences waiting for me: big city, dorm life, AFROTC, lots of chemistry classes, some biology and art classes, new friends, new opportunities. Right now, I'm working through financial paperwork, placement tests, possible class schedules. I should hear back about my dorm and roommate assignment in a couple of months. The realization that I'll be moving out soon is always at the back of my mind. I'm ready for it. I know where God's leading me - for now.
          It's really easy to give an answer when people ask what I'm doing next year. "I'm going here to study chemistry and then into the Air Force." Those are my plans and I tell them so. But it's been on my mind that the Bible pretty specifically say NOT to do that.

"13 Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit.” 14 Yet you do not know [b]what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. 15 Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.” " James 4:13-15, NASB

 I have plans and I have been seeking the Lord's guidance the whole way, and He has directed my steps. All the same, I am still a vapor, or a mist as the ESV says (it's mentally challenging to put a verse in a version other than I've memorized). I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I have plans, but God may yet direct my steps another direction. Wherever He leads me, I am excited to follow. And If the Lord wills, I will go here to study chemistry and then into the Air Force, and I will live and make memories along the way.

Anne & Joe

          These last few weeks, I have been interviewing residents at the retirement home where I work, seeking to know their stories. It has been a privilege to hear each story, and a few residents have given me written permission to share their stories with all of you. This is an exercise in writing for me - if you have any questions, comments, or critiques, please let me know!

            1930. Life was difficult in Brooklyn, New York in the depth of the depression, but his mother made ends meet. She worked hard to support her young son after his father left her for other women. They never experienced the hardest parts of the depression, certainly not to the extent that the folks in Oklahoma and other places did, but they knew hardship all the same.

            As Joe got older, opportunities opened up for him. He attended a military school in West Virginia for a few years in the late 30s-early 40s. Joe’s mother remarried, and she, Warren, and Joe moved to Montreal before Joe graduated high school. While they were living there, WWII broke out. Joe returned to the states, to Burlington, Vermont, to complete school before enlisting in the Army. He went through basic training in Florida in 1944 and then was shipped overseas where he served in Europe for 6 months, in the 10^th Armored Division right after the Battle of the Bulge. “Boy, was I lucky to miss that,” he says, looking back.

            Soon after he finished his service in the military, Joe’s mother died. He returned for her funeral and then sought an education. Although he had been considering becoming a doctor or dentist, he instead began college in Vermont, studying agriculture and economics, and ended up in the insurance business, a job that took him around the country. He met a girl and got married, had two boys and one girl. 25 years later, he and his wife divorced, and he subsequently began night school at Fort Steilacoom Community College. It was at night school that he met Anne.

            1936. She was grateful for the bed and food the nuns offered her. Goodness knows she was better off here in the convent than she had been at her aunt’s house where she was just another mouth to feed.  She remembers with a grimace the clothing lines and the fact that they could never afford new shoes, although the soles were loose on her old ones, and all that just a year ago. At the age of 12, one year prior, she had run away to her 6^th grade teacher at the Chicago, Illinois convent, where she would be taken care of for the remainder of the depression era. Although her cousins, who also attended school at the convent, told her that her aunt wanted her to return, her aunt held no legal authority over her, so she remained at the convent.

            Anne’s parents had immigrated to the US from Croatia in the early-mid 1900s, just before the depression struck. When Anne was 6, her mother passed away. Although she was young, Anne holds on to memories of her loving mother, especially her beautiful blue dress with the gold fleur-de-lis design, which she wore to church ever morning. Her father, unable to care for her, gave Anne to his sister in Chicago, Illinois. Anne attended school at the local convent, where she lived in her later schooling years. When she started high school, she decided she wanted to become a nun and was sent to the motherhouse in Colorado for two years. During her sophomore year, she changed her mind and came back to Chicago. In high school, she met her future husband. She wasn’t everything he hoped she would be, so she changed for him and compromised herself, something she regrets to this day.  He didn’t believe in the education of women, so she finished high school and stopped attending school. She had dreamed of a man of high ideals, with a love of his faith, and a positive outlook, but settled for what she had instead. Anne helped put him through med school and moved to Tacoma for his internship. During their marriage, he had affairs, and, after 8 children, they were divorced.

            After the divorce, she went back to school at Fort Steilacoom Community College to pursue her dream of becoming educated and here she met Joe.

      It was in a Human Potential Class that Anne and Joe met. This was a class that impacted both of them deeply, focusing on Personal Responsibility and Emotional Development, a phrase they both still remember 40 years later. Outside of Human Potential, however, it was their shared loved for the Lord that brought and kept them together. The Lord has never abandoned them, and, in Anne’s words, the last 39 years have been a fairytale. They traveled together, to Europe twice and to other places. Anne went to Europe twice more on her own, to discover her family’s roots in Croatia. She was searching for herself and she found it in the town where she was immediately recognized as her mother’s daughter. Walking along a street in Kaštela, a woman called out “You’re Maria’s daughter!” and Anne knew she had found something special. Her self-esteem had been knocked down to zero after her divorce, and between Human Potential, Joe, Kaštela, and the Lord’s grace, she began to be built back up. Joe and Anne continued their education, Anne continuing on to Evergreen Community College. Anne focused on the three children she still had at home, co-owned a bookstore, and then got into real estate. Joe can be described as a poet, painter, and romantic.

      Now, they sit across from me, both in their rocking chairs, both smiling brightly. For the last several months, they have never failed to inform me that they are praying for me. They ask after my schooling and my plans for the future, and I am honored that they have taken such an interest in me.

      Joe’s words to me: “You’re doing okay. You have your life figured out and the smarts to pursue it. Not many have that.”

      Anne’s words to me: “Don’t ever compromise yourself; remain true to you. Retain your individuality.”

(Temporarily) Satiated Wanderlust

     Just over a month ago, I was itching to go, to travel, to explore. I've had that desire fulfilled now and I'm at least temporarily satisfied to remain at home. In the last month, I've spent time in Canada, South Africa, and Zambia, as well as the US (of course) and stopovers in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and Rome, Italy. I don't know if stopovers count, especially when they occur from 3am-4am, as the Rome stopover did, but I was still in those countries for a short time.
     I drove into Canada (7 hours of travel), camped in very wet conditions, explored Vancouver, drove home (3 hours of travel), drove to La Conner (2 hours of travel), experienced the Tulip Festival with my wonderful mother, drove home (2 hours of travel), flew to South Africa (28 hours of travel), spent a fantastic week with friends, flew to Zambia (6 hours of travel), spent a weekend with my other family, the Taylors (http://robandjennifer.wordpress.com/ go follow them!), and flew home (36 hours of travel). That last part of was especially taxing. I had an amazing time... but, yea, I'm liking my bed, my mom's food, and a more relaxed schedule. I didn't ever think I'd call calculus relaxed.
     Until I moved to South Africa, I was never a wanderer. Short trips, sure, that's fine. But I intended to grow up and live right where I'd always lived, maybe even in the same house. Now...the whole world is open to me. I've spent time in different lifestyles, and the term culture shock isn't foreign. It would be hard to live elsewhere, but I could do it. I might even want to... More than anything, though, I want to live where God puts me. The opportunities He's given me at such a young age have broadened my horizons and made me consider differed places. What is He preparing me for, I wonder? I can't wait to find out.
     While these last few weeks haven't resulted in culture shock since they were short term, they have been full of experiences. International travel on my own, especially, was new. I had to navigate airports, luggage, visas, customs, and vaccinations (or lack thereof), all on my own. There were times when I was nervous, but now I've done it, I can do it again. I hope to, in the future.
     Each trip has been different and each has been good.

It was good to make new friends while camping in thunderstorms, good to explore the gorgeous forest around Golden Ears provincial park, good to laugh at crazy circumstances.

It was good to spend time with my mom, good to have my camera out and take as many pictures of tulips as I wanted, good to have a schedule that allowed me to wander La Conner, read by lamplight on the porch with the stars above me, and sing hymns in the morning.

It was good to be surprised by special girls with a special birthday dinner, good to have a busy schedule of seeing everyone, mini golfing, watching movies, playing board games, eating good food, good to work on relationships that I want to keep for years to come.

It was good to be part of the Taylor family, good to spend a little time in a second world country, good to talk to Mr Taylor, Mrs Taylor, and Matt.

It was good. And now it's good to be home with those I love.

It Doesn't Take Too Much to Get Me Talking Photography

      It's been 5 weeks since I've written anything.  It's not as though I'm lacking ideas, I just haven't gotten around to actually writing them out beyond a couple descriptive sentences (I've made a habit of doing that because too often I don't have any ideas). Why haven't I written?  I don't know. But I keep up with this blog because I enjoy it, not because I feel obligated to. When I feel obligated without enjoyment, then it's time to move on.  As of starting this post, I'm not even 100% sure what topic I'm writing on today.  Maybe I'll just bounce around; that would pretty accurately reflect the status of my mind at the moment.  But... I think I would confuse everyone, so I won't do that.
     I think I'll talk about photography.  It's a topic that (you should have noticed) I love and will very readily talk about.  I'm still learning, and sometimes other photographers introduce topics that are completely, genuinely, honestly, truly NEW to me.  Best learning experiences ever... or at least, they have the steepest learning curve. 

Heidi, sunrisephotogh.com

      I've been truly blessed this summer by Heidi Stephens at Sunrise Photography (sunrisephotogh.com) allowing me to follow her and teaching me some of her trade.  Connections with other photographers are really important, even if those connections only started because I used to babysit her boys!  Because of some of her mentoring, I've really found a desire to improve my photography further; one of my goals is to do one portrait photo shoot each week (I have enough siblings to do so) because portraits are one of my weak points and one of the most commonly requested shoots. I may, even, in the future, throw out an offer of portraits if someone will come be my model for a little while... when my siblings start rolling their eyes at my picture taking requests. 

Watching Grandpa

     That being said, someday I want to work without posing. One of my strengths is detail work, capturing the details of a place or event, and I prefer event shoots to portrait shoots; it's always good to challenge oneself, but it's also good to work within one's strengths. So, eventually, I want to capture life as it is (see my blog post: Now and Then) - especially the hardships that society, with its short attention span, often forgets.  One of the photographers who most inspires me is John Warren, the World Vision photographer (http://blog.worldvision.org/author/jon-warren).  His photos are not only beautiful, they're meaningful!   

Another's Life

     Overall, to improve, I'm working on portraiture, on different composition and editing techniques, and on keeping my eyes open for those real life, hard, easier-to-ignore situations that must not be ignored.  Anyway, I can see photography being a huge part of my life, no matter where God leads me (I still don't know where that is, but so many people ask me that I'll probably devote a single blog post to it).  I ended up bouncing around a bit anyway (seriously, between college now, college future, job now, job future, church, photography, home life, free will vs the sovereignty of God, Anne of Green Gables, and all the other parts of my life, I'm surprised I was able to be cohesive at all), but not nearly as much as I could have been; I stayed on one topic!  And I didn't address every aspect of that topic that has occupied my mind the last couple of weeks.
     I should stick some pictures in here and publish this and be done.  It's not going to get any more cohesive through more editing.  Oh!  I've definitely appreciated all of the praise for the photos that I've posted on Facebook.  This is a collective thank you, too - I intend to go somewhere with my photography.  Okay.  Enough said.  Stop typing.

The Best Vacation Ever

     So I'm about halfway through my summer vacation, now, and I've pretty much decided that this is the best summer I've ever had and that this summer probably will hold that record for a while.  I'm not saying it's perfect, with every day better than the last, but I seem to have struck the balance between busy and relaxation that works for me.  Below is a list of what I think makes this a beautiful summer:

     1. Get a job/be productive.  One of the things I think ruins a vacation is boredom.  Vacation boredom is why I love the South African school schedule we were on: 3 months school, 1 month holiday, repeat.  However, if you can keep yourself busy with a good summer job (especially if it's one you enjoy) that boredom will be a lot longer in coming.  As for being productive, this is around-the-home stuff: college/scholarship applications, cooking, cleaning, organizing, community organizations, etc.  
     2. Be lazy. That said, vacation is supposed to be relaxing.  Only allot yourself so much to do that when you feel like being lazy, you can be lazy.  Obviously, this is in lesser amounts.

     3. Exercise.  You should do this year round, so don't slack off in the summer.  Much.  For more than a couple weeks at a time.  And have fun with exercising!  Don't use that machine every day for 30 minutes... borrrrring.  Pick up a new water sport, or run outside, turning down whichever side street you come to!
     4. Spend time outside.  Summer, unless you live someplace ridiculously hot, is a great time to go outside.  I've pretty much taken over caring for my mom's herb garden, and even the normally tedious chore of weeding is made 100x better when I'm out soaking in the sun.  Read outside.  Nap outside.  Work outside.  And exercising outside is so much nicer than exercising inside.
     5. Do what you love.  Spend time really filling yourself up; for me, this means I take my camera and play.  I read good books (this summer our family is reading classics), I paint, and I spend time in the kitchen.
     6. Build relationships.  This means seeking to hang out with friends, to spend time with siblings, to connect with parents and peers.  Be sociable.  I'm an introvert, so sometimes this is difficult, but it just means sometimes I need to have a day to be antisocial. 
     7. Keep traditions.  For as long as I can remember, my extended family has congregated at a cabin on a lake in northern Minnesota.  I know each of my cousins and aunts and uncles because of this, and I love the lake.  I wouldn't trade this time for anything. 
     8. Start new traditions.  Just because you have good old traditions to keep does not mean you can't start new traditions.  I always wonder when people say one mustn't do something because "it's not tradition."  Tradition had to start somewhere.  So, once a week, have a game night.  Rent a jetski and visit a local body of water.  Something.
     9. Explore.  Going hand in hand with starting new traditions, summer is a perfect time to find new places.  Visit a new restaraunt.  Hike unknown trails.  Take a road trip to wherever you end up.  Or, explore your own town a little bit more. 
     10. Spend time with God.  Most importantly, as always, spend time with the one who set an example for resting, who created the places you'll explore, who is a working, hands-on God, who wants a relationship with you. 

     This summer does have a bittersweet aspect to it.  I turned 18 back in April and, looking back over the last few months, it's almost as if I can feel childhood slipping away.  It's not something I can stop, it's not something I wish wouldn't happen, it's not something I want to hurry up.  People say my entire life is before me, but, more accurately, my entire life is behind me.  The rest of my life is before me.  This may very well be the last summer I can spend in the way I've just described.  That aches, but I've a restless excitement for what comes next, what God will do next.  

Note: it does help to speak to the weatherman and ensure that the summer weather is spectacular.  I've hardly had one ugly day in the last 8 weeks and 3 states.

An Excuse of a Mission Field

     How many times has someone told you, "you are in a mission field, wherever you are."  True.  God puts us in specific places with a purpose in mind, and we don't have to travel to the ends of the Earth to find a mission field.  So... we're missionaries.  Now tell me: why do we not act as such?  On a daily basis, the ones we call missionaries, those who have given up a comfortable home life in the country of their birth, act differently than we do.  They struggle.  They serve.  They share.  They step out of their comfort zones.  Yes, they eat, sleep, and laugh the same as we do, but they have a purpose, an intention of being a missionary.
     When you're not a labeled missionary, different things occupy your life.  You go to school, you work your job, you raise your kids, you socialize with friends.  But all of these are part of the labeled missionary's life, too.  So it's not that we're being missionaries in a part of the world that's closer to home, it's just that we're being in a different part of the world; I think we're missing something.  When was the last time you picked up a stranger who was walking down the road, no matter how little room you had in your car?  When was the last time you intentionally served everyone around you, every day?  When was the last time you... shared your faith, even if through actions more than words?
     We shouldn't use "we're in a mission field" as an excuse to continue with our relatively comfortable, suburban lives.  We should be the missionaries we are called to be.

 "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you...you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth." 

Matthew 28:19-20, Acts 1:8

On (Okay, after...) my Graduation Day

      I really meant to post this a week... two weeks ago.  You know, right after graduation.  Definitely before I left for my week at the US Air Force Academy.  Did that happen?  Nope.  So anyone who actually reads this blog is left with a month between posts.  Not ideal, but what's done is done.  Better late than never?  Back to that cliches thing....
     Anyways, although my technical "what year am I in school" definition is way more complicated than "Senior", suffice it to say that I walked a graduation ceremony this year and will (likely) not next year.  I walked with 7 other seniors at the homeschooling coop that I was part of for a few years before moving to South Africa.  It was such a nice ceremony, just family and friends, but the small graduating class (many who used to be in our class graduated from the local high school) meant each and every one of those graduating had to give a speech.  I probably knew about this 3 or 4 months ago, but did I write it?  Noooo.... It was okay, though, the speech-writing and -delivery went fairly well.  Below is the product of that hurried 15 minutes an hour before showtime.  As the M.C. said, perfected procrastination is known as inspiration.  Keep that in mind.

     
     Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start....  it was a spring day in North Carolina when I was born on April 9, 1996.  The first born, I was to be my parents' guinea pig, as they have so lovingly called me, for the next several years of my life.  Indeed, probably for the rest of it.  Thankfully, my parents are relatively ethical with animals, and I think I turned out okay.
     My mom jokes that she started homeschooling me because she didn't want to take me to the bus every day, and I am certainly thankful for that decision; buses almost always smell bad.  Thus began my homeschooling journey, with many different teachers, friends, and experiences.  I tell people I love homeschooling because I can finish my work at noon and have the rest of the day to myself, but I also love working at my own pace, avoiding the drama of public school, and forging a strong relationship with my parents, especially with my mom.  She has taught me so much outside of academics - to cook, to sew, to be independent, to serve those around me.  I am so thankful for her. 
     I am also thankful for my Dad.  he is a strong father who loves me deeply, who wants me to figure out everything, including how to change the car radio, and who is always ready with a hug when I need one.  I love you Mom and Dad.
     And although at times it may be hard to see past the annoying outsides, I love my siblings as well.  Esther, I love your laughter.  Ivan, your cheerful heart.  Becca, your smile is beautiful.  Jonathon, I do (most of the time) love your goofiness.  Teresa, I love the way you listen to me in the night as we discuss how to solve the problems of the world.  Or how you put up with me when I fall asleep in the middle of the problem solving. 
     My whole family has supported me as I've grown.  It hasn't always been easy, goodness no, or even always good, but it has been a family for which I am so grateful.  Now, as I look to the future, I don't know where I'm going, but I know they'll be with me every step of the way.  
     Although I have been class of 2014 my entire life, my 2 years overseas "messed up" my school schedules, so I am actually only a grade 11 in the eyes of the government; I dropped back a year to take full advantage of the Running Start program.  I am acting a senior in most everything else, but I'll finish up my Associates Degree next year. 
     From there, who knows where God will lead me?  I'm considering the air force, or going into chiropractic.  I'm interested in photography as well, I want to raise a family, and I sense the call of God into the mission field.  Wherever I am, my Lord will be with me and my family behind me.

So yea.

Distractions of bickering

     This post is definitely a reflection.  It's an issue I've noticed, but haven't formed a complete opinion on yet.  I'm still thinking through it.
     I think humans like bickering.  Or we just like being stubborn in our opinion, and that leads to bickering.  It tends to be over petty stuff such as what color the walls should be or what we should eat to be the healthiest.  We aren't exempt from this as Christians - have you heard about those people who think you can't be saved unless you're baptised?  Or, *gasp*, what about those who think we're predestined and have no free will?  How about those who are all up in arms over whether women should have long hair or not.  I absolutely refuse to join in my siblings conversations about what the end of the world is going to look like.

     It seems to me like we're caught up in the fine, legalistic details and are distracted from the pure, simple, wonderful truth of the gospel.  For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whoever believes in Him may have eternal life.  Each of the things which distract us are a minimal part of the Bible.  Should the end of the world make any difference how we live today?  Should we get so caught up in hair length that we forget our call to go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey all Christ has commanded us?
     See all my question marks?  Maybe it's okay to be really opinionated on these issues.  I have opinions of my own on them.  It just seems like they are causing a divide in the church of Christ, causing us to miss out on the beauty of Christ's amazing, loving gift.  And that's something that I think is not okay.

An Unfinished Story: The Eighth Lesson

The Eighth Lesson: the wise men are led by the star to Jesus

Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the reign of King Herod. About that time some wise men from eastern lands arrived in Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose, and we have come to worship him.”

King Herod was deeply disturbed when he heard this, as was everyone in Jerusalem.  He called a meeting of the leading priests and teachers of religious law and asked, “Where is the Messiah supposed to be born?”

“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they said, “for this is what the prophet wrote:

‘And you, O Bethlehem in the land of Judah,

    are not least among the ruling cities[c] of Judah,
for a ruler will come from you
    who will be the shepherd for my people Israel.’”
Then Herod called for a private meeting with the wise men, and he learned from them the time when the star first appeared.  Then he told them, “Go to Bethlehem and search carefully for the child. And when you find him, come back and tell me so that I can go and worship him, too!”

After this interview the wise men went their way. And the star they had seen in the east guided them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw the star, they were filled with joy!  They entered the house and saw the child with his mother, Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasure chests and gave him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

When it was time to leave, they returned to their own country by another route, for God had warned them in a dream not to return to Herod.
(Matthew 2:1-9, NLT)

On this Feast of Epiphany, the day following the twelfth day of Christmas,  I want to share two songs: a traditional rendition of We Three Kings and a less traditional version of Little Drummer Boy, the second being sung by a group making their way into the spotlight.

We Three Kings

Sung by Jennifer Avalon

Little Drummer Boy

Sung by Pentatonix

"An Unfinished Story" is based off of a bulletin from a church service I attended in South Africa.  I will give credit to individuals throughout the series, but the bulletin is from St. Thomas' Anglican Church, Linden, from the 18th of December 2011 at 6:30 pm.  I edited to make it more modern.

An Unfinished Story: The Seventh Lesson

The seventh lesson: the shepherds go to the manger

That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep.  Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people.  The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!  And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in highest heaven,
    and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”
When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger. After seeing him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child.  All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often.  The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them.
(Luke 2:8-20, NLT)

Angels We Have Heard on High

The Piano Guys

(This is one of my favorite groups - not traditional, but definitely beautiful)

Angels we have on heard high

Sweetly singing ore the plains

And the mountains in reply

Echoing their joyous strains 

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Gloria in excelsis Deo 

Come to Bethlehem and see

Christ whose birth the angels sing

Come adore on bended knee

Christ the Lord the newborn King 

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Gloria in excelsis Deo 

See him in a manger laid

Whom the choirs of angels praise

Mary, Joseph, lend your aid

While our hearts in love we raise 

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Gloria, in excelsis Deo

Gloria in excelsis Deo

"An Unfinished Story" is based off of a bulletin from a church service I attended in South Africa.  I will give credit to individuals throughout the series, but the bulletin is from St. Thomas' Anglican Church, Linden, from the 18th of December 2011 at 6:30 pm.  I edited to make it more modern.

An Unfinished Story: The Sixth Lesson

And now, after a brief interlude of family and food, I will continue with the unfinished story.  It seems to me appropriate to continue this after Christmas, after the commercialism has reached it's peak, after our attention moves away from lights! sweets! gifts!  Although it is still the same story that has been broadcasted for the last six weeks, year after year, don't allow yourself to become tired of it.  It is so important, no matter what time of year we tell it!

The sixth lesson: Luke tells of the birth of Jesus

At that time the Roman emperor, Augustus, decreed that a census should be taken throughout the Roman Empire. (This was the first census taken when Quirinius was governor of Syria.) All returned to their own ancestral towns to register for this census. And because Joseph was a descendant of King David, he had to go to Bethlehem in Judea, David’s ancient home. He traveled there from the village of Nazareth in Galilee. He took with him Mary, his fiancée, who was now obviously pregnant.

 And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born.  She gave birth to her first child, a son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them.

(Luke 2:1-7, NLT)

Away in a Manger

Casting Crowns

Away in a manger, 

No crib for His bed 

The little Lord Jesus 

Laid down His sweet head 

The stars in the bright sky 

Looked down where He lay 

The little Lord Jesus 

Asleep on the hay 

The cattle are lowing 

The poor Baby wakes 

But little Lord Jesus 

No crying He makes 

I love Thee, Lord Jesus 

Look down from the sky 

And stay by my side, 

'Til morning is nigh. 

Be near me, Lord Jesus, 

I ask Thee to stay 

Close by me forever 

And love me I pray 

Bless all the dear children 

In Thy tender care 

And take us to heaven 

To live with Thee there

"An Unfinished Story" is based off of a bulletin from a church service I attended in South Africa.  I will give credit to individuals throughout the series, but the bulletin is from St. Thomas' Anglican Church, Linden, from the 18th of December 2011 at 6:30 pm.  I edited to make it more modern.

An Unfinished Story: The Fourth Lesson

The fourth lesson: The prophet Micah foretells the glory of little Bethlehem

But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
    are only a small village among all the people of Judah.
Yet a ruler of Israel will come from you,
    one whose origins are from the distant past.
The people of Israel will be abandoned to their enemies
    until the woman in labor gives birth.
Then at last his fellow countrymen
    will return from exile to their own land.
And he will stand to lead his flock with the Lord’s strength,
    in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
Then his people will live there undisturbed,
    for he will be highly honored around the world.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

Phillip Brooks, 1867

O little town of Bethlehem

How still we see thee lie

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep

The silent stars go by

Yet in thy dark streets shineth 

The everlasting light

The hopes and fears of all the years

Are met in thee tonight.

O morning stars together

Proclaim the holy birth

And praises sing to God the King 

And peace to men on Earth

For Christ is born of Mary

And gathered all above

While mortals sleep, the angels keep

Their watch of wond'ring love.

How silently, how silently

The wondrous gift is given

So God imparts to human hearts

The blessings of his heav'n 

No ear may hear his coming

But in this world of sin

Where meek souls will receive him still

The dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem

Descend to us, we pray

Cast out our sin, and enter in

Be born in us today

We hear the Christmas angels

The great glad tidings tell

O come to us, abide with us

Our Lord Emmanuel!

"An Unfinished Story" is based off of a bulletin from a church service I attended in South Africa.  I will give credit to individuals throughout the series, but the bulletin is from St. Thomas' Anglican Church, Linden, from the 18th of December 2011 at 6:30 pm.  I edited to make it more modern.

An Unfinished Story: The Third Lesson

The third lesson: The prophet Isaiah foretells the coming of the Savior

The people who walk in darkness

    will see a great light.

For those who live in a land of deep darkness,

    a light will shine.

You will enlarge the nation of Israel,

    and its people will rejoice.

They will rejoice before you

    as people rejoice at the harvest

    and like warriors dividing the plunder.

For you will break the yoke of their slavery

    and lift the heavy burden from their shoulders.

You will break the oppressor’s rod,

    just as you did when you destroyed the army of Midian.

The boots of the warrior

    and the uniforms bloodstained by war

will all be burned.

    They will be fuel for the fire.

For a child is born to us,

    a son is given to us.

The government will rest on his shoulders.

    And he will be called:

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

His government and its peace

    will never end.

He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David

    for all eternity.

The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies

    will make this happen!

(Isaiah 9:2-7, NLT)

Messiah (For Unto Us a Child is Born)

Handel, London Symphony Orchestra, Sir Colin Davis

"An Unfinished Story" is based off of a bulletin from a church service I attended in South Africa.  I will give credit to individuals throughout the series, but the bulletin is from St. Thomas' Anglican Church, Linden, from the 18th of December 2011 at 6:30 pm.  I edited to make it more modern.