Christmas Ain’t Over

For years, I’d always get a little sad around this time, knowing that Christmas Day was drawing to a close and with it Christmas for another year. I’d always have a bit of a letdown, although New Year’s Eve helped a bit.

This year, I’m celebrating for as long as I can. I refuse to let go of Christmas even after all the decorations are taken down and put back into boxes destined for the attic until next November. Even when all the stores go back to business as usual and all the radio stations revert back to their regular rotation of music, I still hold on to Christmas.

I’m siding with the ancients who took 12 whole days to encapture fully all that Jesus our Emmanuel born on this day means. If you want to truly understand this concept, read the book Winter Fire: Christmas with G. K. Chesterton. It will change your thinking about Christmas for sure.

The 12 days of Christmas last from December 25 until January 6, the Epiphany which celebrates the circumcision of Jesus, the visit of the Wise Men, and the wedding at Cana, according to my internet sources. So that means that there are 11 more days to party.

But for me, Christmas isn’t a date on a calendar but a state of mind. I want to carry that mindset with me beyond January 6 into the new year and all the way up until it’s socially acceptable to celebrate Christmas again in 2025.

I will take down my tree and put away my decorations, but I won’t stop the spirit of Christmas. I might even listen to Christmas records and watch Christmas movies past January. The audacity! And as always, I will definitely be on the lookout for After Christmas Day Bargains for decorations for next Christmas.

But as one man said, Jesus doesn’t just live in our hearts one day out of the year but all the days of the year, and all the years of all our lives. So why should Christmas stop on December 25 or even January 6?

Spinning the Christmas Classics

I think music has always been an essential part of my life for as long as I can remember. Some of my first memories involve hearing my grandmother sing or listening to the old Elvis records.

It made sense when I got a turntable for Christmas two years ago that I’d start stockpiling a collection of Christmas records, especially the classic recordings from the likes of Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and Ella Fitzgerald.

It’s not like I wasn’t listening to Christmas music before 2022. I had (and still have) my massive collection of Christmas CDs that will one day all be compiled into a massive playlist somewhere. But dropping the needle on a record is like turning back the calendar to 1979 when I could hardly contain my excitement for Santa and presents.

Christmas music was actually my introduction to a lot of great music from the 40s and 50s. Pretty much all the standard versions of the holiday classics are from that era. To risk sounding like an old fart, to me the music from that era was from real singers and real musicians who didn’t need autotune or pitch correction or and kind of computer software to make indelible musical memories.

I don’t even mind having to get up every 20 minutes or so to flip the records over. The physical act makes the nostalgia so much more potent. And all those great songs are basically the soundtrack for all my Decembers for as far back as I can remember. Wrapping presents and decorating the tree isn’t quite the same without a little White Christmas from Bing or a Blue Christmas from Elvis.

And of course all those carols remind me of the real reason for the season, especially O Little Town of Bethlehem and Silent Night. There’s a reason why we still sing lyrics penned centuries ago. There’s a reason why people are still recording those hymns from the 1800s. The message is still as true and powerful now as it was 2,000 years ago on the first Christmas night.

So I guess I’ll keep playing the records and adding to my collection for as long as there are Christmases to celebrate. Christ the Lord is born today. Hallelujah!

The Story Behind the Song

I always love reading about classic hymns and carols and the stories of their inspiration and origins. Hymns like It Is Well with My Soul come out of tragedy and heartbreak, but the message they bring has lived on long after the writers have gone to glory.

The carol I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day has a similar story that I found recently. I’ve copied and pasted it and included the link to the original post:

“On Christmas Day in 1863, the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow listened to the bells from a nearby church, overwhelmed by loss.

Two years earlier, his wife had burned to death in a fire, and he had also been badly burned trying to save her. At times, his grief was so great that he feared that he would be sent to an asylum.

His son had also been wounded in the Civil War and was temporarily paralyzed. As he listened to the church bells, Longfellow wrote a poem that reflected his grief:

‘In despair,’ he wrote, ‘I bowed my head. There is no peace on earth, I said.’

But he ended the poem, which was later put to music, on a note of triumph.

‘Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on Earth, good will to men’

This Christmas Day will be 161 years….and the song still brings the same sense of settledness and confident hope to millions across the globe!

Do you hear the bells!! Open up your heart and hear them this Christmas!!”

My 5,000th Blog Post!

“The more comfortable we are with mystery in our journey, the more rest we will know along the way” (stolen from a friend’s post).

I never thought when I started out on my WordPress journey almost 14 years ago that I would make it this far. Honestly, I had no long term plan when I wrote that first blog post way back in July 2010. I just knew this was a way to get my thoughts out of my head and if not on paper then out into the ether.

I am grateful for every single person who has read my writings over the years. I am blessed to know that people support me in this and in so many other ways. I can say with certainty that my life has not gone the way I expected in these 14 years, and that’s okay.

God knows. I can be comfortable with the mystery in my journey because I know not a bit of it is a mystery to God. He sees the end just as clearly as He sees the beginning. And He sees every little detail in between. I can rest in God’s control over my life.

Does this mean the writing journey is at an end? Hardly. I hope, God willing, to get to 10,000 posts and beyond. I hope that I will keep getting better and better at this and my words will keep blessing as many people as those who have blessed me.

Stay tuned. There will be another post tomorrow.

Old School CCM

Maybe this makes me super old, but old music just sounds better. It sounds like real people playing real instruments and singing with real voices.

I grew up on 80s and 90s music, but if you want to get me started and never shut up, start talking to me about 80s and 90s Contemporary Christian Music. Mention artists like Kim Hill, Steven Curtis Chapman, Susan Ashton, PFR, dc talk, Julie Miller, Rich Mullins and so many of those others.

I’m pretty sure I’d win a trivia contest based off of old-school CCM. Or at least I’d know some of the answers.

One of my favorite artists from back when was Julie Miller. She had a unique sound and voice and could write songs like nobody else. Probably my favorite of hers is a song called “Nobody But You.” It’s so honest and transparent and true. Here are the lyrics:

“I have seen the night of a million tears
I have seen an angel’s smile
I have come of age and remained, these years
With the longings of a child

Nobody but you can find my heart
Nobody but you sees in the dark
Nobody but you can call my name and scatter all my pain

I have had the fears of an orphaned heart
I have had a homeless soul
I have been embraced in the arms of grace
You have brought my spirit home

Nobody but you can find my heart
Nobody but you sees in the dark
Nobody but you can call my name and scatter all my pain

Nobody but you can find my heart
Nobody but you sees in the dark
Nobody but you can call my name and scatter all my pain

Nobody but you, nobody but you
Nobody but you, nobody but you
Nobody but you, nobody but you
Nobody but you” (Julie Miller).

2,200 and Counting

“And don’t be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God’s place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there. God, not your marital status, defines your life” (1 Corinthians 7:17, The Message).

I recently received a notification of my six-year anniversary with WordPress. I’ve come a long way since that very first blog way back in July of 2010 that announced my arrival into the wild and exciting world of blogging (said with sarcasm).

I’m still not a fan of the word “blog.” It sounds like something you do that you don’t ever discuss in polite conversation, especially in mixed company. It also sounds like something you blow out of your nose when you have a cold.

In the ultimate irony, I’m slowing learning that to grow up and get to the place God created you to be, the best place to start is to learn to be content with where you are and who you are. The more you strive out of insecurity or envy, the more you find you’re vainly fighting the air while running in place. You don’t get very far that way.

The best way to find contentment is gratitude. Giving thanks makes what you have enough (as Ann Voskamp has said more than once) and it makes your life fuller and richer by putting your focus on what you have instead of what you lack.

Giving thanks opens your hands to receive more true riches from God’s hand. The problem with the prosperity gospel is that it focuses on the temporary riches that rust and fade, but the true riches that come with thanksgiving are the kind that are eternal and changeless.

I’m thankful tonight for a job that I enjoy, a cat who also moonlights as a very affordable therapist, a comfy bed, people who care about me, and a God who is crazy about me even after all these years.

I’d call that the good life.

 

Yet Still More Randomness on Hump Day

Every now and then, I come to write these blogs and I really don’t have a theme. I have lots of ideas in my head that are all disconnected (and 95% of them are song lyrics or movie quotes).

The one theme that keeps reemerging like the chorus of a song is grace.

There are days when I feel confident and suave. I feel like my life’s going well. I’m able to truly appreciate how very blessed I am and I have all the confidence in the world that God is truly in control and that He’s got my future in good hands. Those days are grace.

Then there are days when my latent dorkiness comes to the surface. Just about every conversation feels awkward. All those old fears about people not wanting to be around me once they really get to know me come back. Those days are also grace.

Every day I wake up is grace. Every day I wake up I need God’s grace, both the good and bad days. There aren’t days when I can get by with a little less. I always need as much as I can handle (and then some).

Grace means that it’s okay that you’re not always okay. Grace means that you can celebrate brokenness because you know that’s where the light gets in (and where God’s light gets out).

So maybe I did have a theme after all. Who knew? I didn’t until I started typing.

Grace has certainly been the theme of my life. As much as I need it, I’m not always good at extending it to those who disappoint me. Maybe I even need grace to be able to give grace.

God never tires of being gracious with me. He loves me with a holy love that meets me where I am in my mess yet refuses to leave me where He found me.

I’m also thankful for that on a Wednesday night at 10:40 pm.

 

300 Words

5a15014e4391b66ebd06980ee68e3a25

My goal every time I sit down to write one of these posts is 300 words.

I don’t always have a defined topic when I start typing. Sometimes, I’ll be halfway through a blog before an idea will hit me. Sometimes, I end up with a very stream-of-consciousness, vague-and-shadowy type of blog.

I’ve decided that not every blog I write has to reinvent the genre. Not every single post will be a literary classic. Some will stink like my cat’s week-old kitty litter. But for me, the joy is sitting down in front of my trusty laptop (or iPad) and clicking away on the keys to produce something that wasn’t there before.

Honestly, there are times when I get discouraged by the fact that less people are reading these than were a year ago. I’m just keeping it real. But then I have to remind myself that this is for me and if I only have an audience of one, I’m okay with that.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m repeating myself and essentially saying a lot of the same things over and over. Maybe some of you are like me and it takes you way more than once before a truth sinks in. For me, it’s more like five or six times.

For me, it’s about the discipline of writing something down every single day. Plus, it’s always fun to look back at some older posts and remember what was going on in my life and what I was thinking and feeling at the time. It’s a good indicator of how far God has brought me along the road of healing and wholeness.

So there’s a little more insight into what goes on in my little ol’ noggin. In case you were wondering. And that, my friends, brings us to 300 words.

 

 

 

 

Elvis Turns 80?

Elvis-Presley

So, today would have been Elvis Presley’s 80th birthday. August 16 will mark 38 years since he passed away very suddenly in 1977 and left the music world in mourning. People still show up at Graceland on the anniversary of his death almost 40 years later to mourn and grieve his passing.

I was a huge Elvis fan when I was a kid. Maybe it’s because my dad loved Elvis’ music. Maybe it was because even at a young age, I connected with the singer who grew up in Memphis and never forgot where he came from even after he became mega-successful.

Elvis is a reminder to all of us that fame can be the best and worst thing to happen to a person. It’s the best because all their dreams come true and it can be the worst because all the scrutiny and pressure on that person increases a thousandfold and any character flaws that person has are magnified and exposed in a myriad of ways.

So maybe that’s why I haven’t been hugely successful and popular with my blog. Yeah, I’ll go with that.

I’ve heard stories about how Elvis never lost his love for Gospel music and always sung spiritual and sacred songs at his concerts. I can’t speak into the man’s beliefs, but to me that says something. It reminds me of my grandmother who passed away from Alzheimer’s a few years back. She couldn’t tell you her address or probably remember your name, but she could still remember the old hymns that she grew up loving.

There’s power in those songs, both old and new. When Andre Crouch sang about the blood that never loses its power, he was singing powerful truth.

So I watched a couple of Elvis movies and remembered that as an actor, Elvis was a really good singer. His movies aren’t the best ever made and can be painfully bad at times, but they’re still fun to watch.

I personally would much rather listen to his Gospel recordings.

Easter Season Liturgy Part IV

ko1

Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

I saw the sunset today. It was beautiful, but not extraordinarily so. Then I thought of something.

Every sunset is a kind of picture of Easter and death, burial, and resurrection. Even the blood-red color of the sky seemed significant.

Two days from now, we celebrate Easter, or if you prefer, Resurrection Sunday. Whatever you call it, the reason is the same. Jesus, the same who was crucified and buried, walked out of that tomb, holding the keys to death and hell, and forever changing history as we know it.

I participated in a Good Friday service featuring seven stations of the cross with artwork and Scripture, along with prayer prompts. I blogged about it last year and you can read it here if you want:

https://oneragamuffin.wordpress.com/2013/03/29/the-seven-stations-of-the-cross/

Again, I was struck by the incredible price Jesus paid for me. As the Bible says, very rarely will anyone be willing to die for a friend, much less a stranger. Yet while I was yet a sinner and an enemy to God, Jesus died for me. If I really think about it, I am overwhelmed.

Here’s a closing thought from one of my favorites, C. S. Lewis:

“God, who needs nothing, loves into existence wholly superfluous creatures in order that He may love and perfect them. He creates the universe, already foreseeing – or should we say ‘seeing’? there are no tenses in God – the buzzing cloud of flies about the cross, the flayed back pressed against the uneven stake, the nails driven through the mesial nerves, the repeated incipient suffocation as the body droops, the repeated torture of back and arms as it is time after time, for breath’s sake, hitched up. If I may dare the biological image, God is a ‘host’ who deliberately creates His own parasites; causes us to be that we may exploit and ‘take advantage of’ Him. Herein is love. This is the diagram of Love Himself, the inventor of all loves.”