Monday, December 17, 2012

Christmas in Newtown

As I sit in the early morning light looking at the tree lights and the garland on the banisters, I am filled with a contentment I don't deserve. Today, funerals begin in Newtown. I've heard several interviewed from there that Christmas has left Newtown. However, I'm praying that now more than ever those dear folks feel the true love and spirit of Christmas as they mourn and lament their losses. The baby that was born those many centuries ago is now mourning with them and walking among them. He is in every home, every darkened living room, around every Christmas tree whose lights have been turned off. His arms are sagging from fatigue as He continually embraces and holds up broken hearts. His spirit will not leave the halls of Sandy Hook Elementary. As those folks work hard to straighten classrooms and erase the horror that took place there, that baby who grew into a Savior, now bends his knee in every nook and cranny as if He were still in the darkness of Gethsemane.
Dear ones, embrace all that is good. Pray for those broken hearts on the hour. Pray for our country as we all mourn the loss of innocence. Pray for the turning of hearts, the yearning for goodness, the longing for a faith that is true and steadfast.

Pray. Pray. Pray.
Now more than ever, it is appropriate and healing to remember the babe and the birth of our Hope…

FAVORED- Part Four
For months, Mary pondered all these thoughts in her heart.  And Joseph?  What must he be thinking right now thought Mary?  Moving about her, Joseph could not have been more attentive or loving. Yet his shaking hands told her, he too, was bewildered by it all.  Moving silently about her, he’d deliberately touch her hand or arm whenever he could.  He constantly rearranged the straw about her in whatever way she wished.  She must be making him crazy, she thought.  During the pains, at time she called for him to comfort and then the next minute, she’d be irritated and order him not to touch her.
The salt, extra cloth and little water pot she brought with her were lying close at hand.
            “Now, Joseph, when the baby comes, you must wipe him down with the salt and wrap him quickly in the cloth,” Mary instructed through gritted teeth.  The pain was now constant.
“I cut the cord first, though, right?” asked the nervous husband.
Mary just looked at him and rolled her eyes.  How many times did had they gone over this in the last hour? 
A few minutes later their foreheads touched and for a brief second they were able to shut it all out.  It was the two of them, just Mary and Joseph.  But the pain did not allow them much time as it grew fierce and demanding.
Mary concentrated and squeezed Joseph’s hand.  How many hours had they laid awake at night sharing their thoughts--preparing themselves for this very moment?  Mary now knew that nothing could prepare anyone for this…

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