It's a

 BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION

Guest of Honor:  Jesus Christ

Date:  Every day
Traditionally, December 25^th but He's always around, so the date is flexible....

Time:  Whenever you're ready
Please don't be late, though, or you'll miss out on all the fun!

Place:  In your heart.... He'll meet you there
You'll hear Him knock.

Attire:  Come as you are
He'll be washing our clothes anyway. He said something about new white robes and crowns for everyone who stays till the last.

Tickets:  Admission is free
He's already paid for everyone...He says you wouldn't have been able to afford it anyway...it cost Him everything He had. But you do need to accept the ticket!!

Refreshments:  New wine, bread, and a far-out drink He calls "Living Water"
Followed by a supper that promises to be out of this world!

Gift Suggestions:  Your life
He's one of those people who already has everything else. He's very generous in return though. Just wait until you see what He has for you!

Entertainment:  Joy, Peace, Truth, Light, Life, Love, Real Happiness
Communion with God, Forgiveness, Miracles, Healing, Power, Eternity in Paradise, Contentment, and much more! All "G" rated, so bring your family and friends.

Please R.S.V.P.

He must know ahead so He can reserve a spot for you at the table. Also, He's keeping a list of His friends for future reference. He calls it the "Lamb's Book of Life."

Party being given by:  His Kids (that's us!!)!

Hope to see you there! 

Gabriel's Most Sensitive Mission

As the tall, stately angel rose and walked toward the front of the chapel, there was a buzz among the cadets. Gabriel was a living legend. He cleared his throat.

I've been asked to speak to you today about what I've learned throughout my career. Foremost is this: we are servants of the Most High God. This lesson I learned not during my days here at the academy, but from a human being, a girl.

I had been summoned before God to be briefed on a new mission. He told me:

"Gabriel, you have a most delicate assignment. I am sending my Son to redeem the earth. To do this he must become a human himself. Your mission is to announce this plan to the young woman I have chosen to be his mother.

"Her name is Mary. She lives in the village of Nazareth in Galilee. She is betrothed to be married. That means that she is already considered a wife, though she is living at home until the final ceremonies a few months from now. And Gabriel ... she is a virgin."

He went on to describe my role and brief me on the various contingencies, concluding with these words. "Gabriel, by all means, be gentle."

I arrived one spring morning as Mary was climbing the path from the well and came to where I was sitting on a large boulder.

She's only a child, I thought when I first saw her — only twelve or thirteen. Betrothed at that age? But such were the customs of that place and I was assured that the Father knows what he is doing. As she approached, I stood, dressed as I always dress — long white robe, golden sash, and so forth.

"Greetings, Mary," I began.

She gasped.

"Hail, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you!"

All the color drained from her face. I motioned for her to sit. She carefully removed the full water jug from her head, set it down, then eased herself onto the far end of the rock.

"Don't be afraid, Mary," I said. "You have found favor with God." I waited a moment for her to calm down.

"You will conceive in your womb and bear a son. You are to name him Jesus." She appeared stunned by these words, but I continued.

"Your son will become a great man. He will be called the Son of the Most High God. What's more, the Lord God will give him the throne of David his ancestor. And he will reign as Messiah over Israel forever. Of his kingdom and reign there will be no end!"

I paused. The message shocked me; I couldn't imagine the impact it must have had on her! She was quiet for a time. Then she asked in her young teenager voice:

"How will this happen, since I am not yet married?"

I answered:

"The Holy Spirit will come to you,
The Power of the Most High will overshadow you,
Therefore your son to be born will be holy,
He will be called 'Son of God.'"

Amazing! The Father was prepared to rest his entire Christ-enterprise on this young girl — her response, her whim, her decision. She was to be the mother of God's own Son — so young. I continued to reassure her.

"And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has conceived a son."

Mary murmured, "Old Elizabeth? Really? Oh!" I could see just a glimmer of a twinkle return to her eyes.

"Yes, they called her 'barren,' but she's already six months pregnant."

Mary was almost grinning for a moment. Then I saw her smile fade. I couldn't read her thoughts, but could only imagine what she must be thinking.

How could she ever explain this to anyone? Who would understand? Who would ever believe her? Her father would be furious, her mother deeply hurt. And Joseph? There would be no wedding. Her dreams of marriage and family vanished in an instant. And the town fathers? Would they try to stone her?

I had been given one sentence by the Father with which to respond: "Nothing will be impossible with God," I said. "Nothing!"

She was quiet a moment longer, lost in her thoughts. Then she looked up at me with clear eyes and said intently: "Here I am. I am the Lord's servant, his handmaid. Let what you have said come to pass."

She stood up. As she began to lift the heavy water jug to her shoulder and then hoist it up to her head, I reached to help, but she shook her head and lifted it up herself. As she made her way up the path to the village, her steps were assured, almost a spring to them. At the top of the hill she steadied the jar with one hand and waved to me with the other. Then she was lost from view.

And that is how I met Mary. She taught me what it means to be a servant when it's hard to obey, when there seems to be no hope except God's promise. Mary took the words, "For nothing will be impossible with God," and believed them. Whenever I struggle with obedience, I think of this young girl who began a servant's journey with the words:

"I am the servant, the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be! Let it come! I am His servant."

The tall angel touched the corner of his eye for a moment, then stepped down and took his seat. Gabriel had learned servant-hood from an even greater servant than himself — a young virgin from Nazareth named Mary.

by Dr. Ralph F. Wilson
www.joyfulheart.com

THE CHRISTMAS STORM

This is about a modern man, one of us, he was not a scrooge, he was a kind, decent, mostly good man, generous to his family, upright in his dealings with others. But he did not believe in all that incarnation stuff that the Churches proclaim at Christmas time. It just didn't make sense to him and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just could not swallow the Jesus story about God coming to earth as man. I’m truly sorry to distress you, he told his wife, but I’m not going with you to church this Christmas Eve. He said he’d feel like a hypocrite. That he would much rather stay home, but that he would wait up for them. He stayed, they went. 

Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier, then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound. Then another and another. 

At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. Well, when he went to the front door, he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They had been caught in the storm and in a desperate search for shelter they had tried to fly through his large landscape window. Well, he couldn't let the poor creatures lie there and freeze. He remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter -- if he could direct the birds to it. He quickly put on his coat and galoshes, trampled through the deepening snow to the barn, opened the door wide, and turned on a light. 

But the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in and he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow making a trail to the yellow lighted wide open doorway of the stable, but to his dismay the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them, he tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms -- instead they scattered in every direction except into the warm lighted barn. 

Then he realized they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature, if only I could think of some way to let them know they can trust me. That I’m not trying to hurt them, but to help them. How? Any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him. If only be a bird myself he thought. If only I could be a bird and mingle with them and speak their language, and tell them not to be afraid, and show them the way to the safe, warm barn. But I'd have to be one of them, so they could see and hear and understand. 


At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sound of the wind. 

He stood there listening to the bells. Listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas.

And he sank to his knees in the snow.  

A Modern Parable by Paul Harvey 

Behold the Fowls Of the Air

The last four days here in Oklahoma has been brutally cold with freezing rain and snow. I, personally, haven't even been out of the house during these days as I extremely dislike driving or riding on slick roads.

 I stocked up on groceries as we were warned of this impending storm like most everyone else did. My husband, Paul, made sure we had plenty of firewood to help keep us warm as the temperatures dipped into the single digits. And he, also, made sure that there was bird feed in our feeders.

For the first couple of days, there was no birds in sight. I don't know where they go or what they do to stay warm in such low temperatures for an extended time. Then, yesterday, (even though it was still well below freezing temperatures) I actually heard them before I saw them. They were chirping like they do on those beautiful spring mornings. I looked out of my home-office window and this is what I saw . . . . 

Matthew 6:26

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

Look What Has Come!

In his 1942 devotional Abundant Living, E. Stanley Jones, Methodist doctor and missionary to India, writes:




The early Christians did not say in dismay: "Look what the world has come to," but in delight, "Look what has come to the world."

They saw not merely the ruin, but the Resource for the reconstruction of that ruin.

They saw not merely that sin did abound, but that grace did much more abound.

On that assurance the pivot of history swung from blank despair, loss of moral nerve, and fatalism, to faith and confidence that at last sin had met its match.