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Thanksgiving Once More

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Thanksgiving feels a lot like the red-headed stepchild of holidays lately, don’t you think? It seems that in the retail world, most jump from Halloween directly into tinsel and mistletoe and everything Christmas. You don’t really see much in the way of Thanksgiving decorations and there’s one lone television special dedicated to this holiday (at least that I’m aware of). And there aren’t too many artists jumping on the Thanksgiving album bandwagon lately.

But Thanksgiving has never really been about crazy shopping or spending lots of money. I’ve always thought of it as a quiet sort of holiday without the need of commercialism or promotion. To me it’s been about good food and good times with family around the table. It’s been about setting aside one day in the year to reflect back on the blessings and plenty that we’ve received and to be grateful and thankful for it.

I know when I honestly assess my own life, I have much to be thankful for. Sure, I don’t have everything I want. But I have everything I need and then some.

I heard once that if all God did for me was save me and that was all, I’d still owe him an eternity of praise. Even if he never gave me one more blessing or gift beyond that, I’d run out of time before I gave him the thanks he was due.

But God has done so much more than that. He woke me up again this morning. He let me enjoy the day with good health and the freedom to express my faith as I see fit and to live my life as I choose. He has even allowed me to make the dumb choices and reminded me that those mistakes aren’t the end of the world and those failures aren’t what really define me at the end of the day. His love for me does.

So I’m thankful. I may be like a broken record when I say that I’m thankful for all of you who read this little blog, but I say it anyway. I hope each of you have plenty to be thankful for. I pray God reminds you of all the blessings, great and small, that you have received.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Old Christmas Movies

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One of the reasons I love this time of year (and there are many) is that I get to pull out my epic collection of Christmas movies and watch all my favorites again. Especially the old ones (meaning those made before I was born).

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of the more recent holiday flicks, too. I love Home Alone, Scrooged, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and even the 90’s remake of Miracle on 34th Street.

But my heart truly belongs to the classics.

It’s not Christmas without seeing old films like The Bells of St. Mary’s or The Bishop’s Wife. I can’t really get into the festive mood of the season until I’ve seen White Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life. Not forgetting lesser-known (but equally classic) movies like Christmas in Connecticut, A Holiday Affair, Holiday Inn, Remember the Night, and A Christmas Carol (any of the older ones are good, but I recommend the 1951 Alistair Sims version).

Maybe I like all these old movies because Christmas makes me nostalgic. I start missing my childhood and the people that I loved that are now gone. I miss the unadulterated excitement that Christmas brought that made me unable to sleep on Christmas Eve.

I know that the proper etiquette is to wait until Thanksgiving to start watching Christmas movies, but I say to that, “Balderdash!” I’m not waiting. Besides, that’s probably not even a real rule, just something I made up.

What old Christmas movies do you watch every year? And by old, I mean pre-1970. I discovered a couple of gems last year for the first time in Come to the Stable and It Happened on 5th Avenue, and I’m always looking for a good holiday classic.

So send me your recommendations. Email me at GMendel72@united.net or find me on facebook or send up smoke signals. Whatever works for you. Just let me know, ’cause enquiring minds want to know.

 

Desert Island Christmas Music Part One

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I love it when someone asks, “If you were stranded on a desert island, what kind of music would you have with you?” Which assumes that you’re either 1) stuck on the only desert island in existance to have electricity and outlets and an unlimited supply of batteries or 2) a very cool solar-powered CD player (or MP3 player if you please). And wouldn’t you be too tied up with small details like finding water and food to be concerned about what’s on your playlist?

Still, I think when it comes to the Christmas season, a few albums come to mind that are essential listening to get into the festive spirit. I’m giving you this list early so you have time to rush out to Best Buy or Barnes & Noble (or one of those “hipper than thou” music stores). Or you  could rush over to your laptop with high-speed internet to amazon.com.

Here’s my list.

1) A Charlie Brown Christmas- Vince Guaraldi Trio. It’s not Christmas without Snoopy and Charlie Brown.

2) Elvis Presley- If Every Day Were Like Christmas. This one has all of Elvis’ Christmas recordings on one fantastic CD.

3) Harry Connick Jr- When My Heart Finds Christmas. This one goes well at any Christmas party.

4) Sarah Maclachlan- Wintersomg. Breathtakingly beautiful.

5) A Christmas Gift for You- from Phil Spector. Vintage 60’s holiday fare.

6) The Christmas Album- David Foster. Lushly produced album with my favorite rendition of “O Holy Night” by Michael Crawford.

7) Croon and Swoon: A Classic Christmas (Volume One and Two). Some of the best voices of yesteryear sing holiday standards.

8) The Christmas Song- Nat King Cole. Perfect Christmas Eve music.

9) Merry Christmas- Mariah Carey. One of my favorites of the contemporary Christmas albums that has a real throwback feel.

10) A Merry Christmas with Bing Crosby & The Andrew Sisters. Again, this is required holiday music.

11) To Drive the Cold Winter Away- Loreena McKennitt. Haunting.

12) Behold the Lamb of God- Andrew Peterson. I think “Labor of Love” would move even the Grinch to tears.

13) A Christmas Cornucopia- Annie Lennox. Very reverent and sacred take on Christmas Carols both popular and obscure.

14) My Holiday- Mindy Smith. A good mix of standards and originals.

15) Christmas- The Big 80’s. Christmas done 80’s style.

Part two coming soon. . .

PS I would love to hear some of your favorite Christmas albums that you listen to every year. I’m always looking to add to my ever-growing, awesome collection of Christmas music.

 

Tangible Memories

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I have my grandfather’s old radio. It sat on his workbench for years and kept him entertained while he tinkered and puttered around in his garage.

Now it sits in my bedroom, a tangible reminder of someone that I loved who is gone but not forgotten.

It’s more than a collection of old tubes and dials and wiring. It’s like a piece of my grandfather is here with me, even though my grandfather has been gone almost 30 years.

I hope one day to leave a legacy like that to someone. I hope that the words I have written or spoken, the things I have done, will inspire someone else to go out and make a difference, to do what most other people say can’t be done.

The radio still works. It takes a minute or two for the tubes to warm up, but after that it sounds as good as it ever did. Legacies are funny that way.

 

 

Cat Naps

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I don’t know where they came up with the term “cat nap,” because it certainly doesn’t apply to Lucy the Wonder Kitty. Lemme explain.

Cat naps are supposed to be short yet invigorating naps, usually lasting from 15-30 minutes. Maybe up to an hour. I’m not sure on the technicalities.

The point is that Lucy takes marathon naps. Like as in if napping were an Olympic sport, she’d be a multiple gold medal winner every four years. She has taken the nap to a new level.

Her usual day is one long nap interrupted by getting up to eat or use the litterbox. She has about 15 or so minutes of exercise and probably an hour’s worth of contemplating the mysteries of the universe (and telling no one). The rest of the time is strictly devoted to kitty dreams, probably which involve her getting to boss me around for a change.

She does like to vary it up a little bit. I like to tell people that she sleeps around. Literally. She takes naps in different places, depending on her mood and easy access. And most of all, comfort.

I suppose when you’re whatever the human equivalent of 12 cat years is, you can sleep that much, too.

 

 

A Letter to My Niece Lizzie

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You’re too young to read this right now, but one day maybe you will.

Today is your 1st birthday. It only seems like a few days ago that I was meeting you for the first time in the hospital room with your mother and father wearing smiles that stretched from ear to ear. I got to hold you for a little while and I think you grabbed my heart in your tiny hands and it’s been there ever since.

Today I and the rest of your family watched you eat your first birthday cake, getting more frosting all over your face and in your hair and on the floor than in your mouth. You had the biggest grin on your face. You were loving every minute of it.

You’ve already grown up so very fast, learning to crawl and stand up and say a few words. It won’t be long before you’ll be walking, then running, then asking for the keys to the car.

I hope you know already how much your mother and father and brothers love you. How much your grandparents love you. And how much your crazy goofy uncle loves you, too.

You’ll be the most photographed child in history. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you will have lots more photos taken of you. You’ll have videos taken of your first steps, your first day of school, your first soccer game, and so on. There will be birthday parties and slumber parties and field trips and vacations and so many things to look forward to.

If anything, I hope you come to know as soon as possible how much not only your family loves you, but how much God loves you. I know your parents are already showing you by word and by example.

I hope you know that you are a princess, because your Father is a King. I hope you will listen to what he says about you and don’t listen to anybody else who tries to tell you otherwise.

I hope you grow up into a beautiful young woman and find a godly young man who loves you more than his own life. I hope you get married and have children of your own that you can laugh with and tell stories to. I hope that you can pass the legacy of faith down to them just as it was passed to you.

I can’t wait to see you become all that God created you to be.

Falling Leaves

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I love autumn. I especially love the keen bite of the crisp October air and the leaves changing colors and the smell of bonfires. I am a fall kind of guy.

I think it’s gotten into the mid-40’s in Nashville and that means a few traditions for me:

1) It’s time for me to start watching my scary movies in anticipation of Halloween, such as the Halloween movies and Rosemary’s Baby. I throw in the Halloween Charlie Brown special, not because it’s scary, but because it’s tradition and required by law to watch every October (or it should be).

2) It’s getting close to time for pumpkin carving and that yearly debate about what costume I will wear on October 31 (and yes, I still do wear costumes, though they tend to be last minute, Goodwill-bought variety).

3) Hopefully, it means hay rides and corn mazes and bonfires and roasted marsh mellows (I like mine blackened just a bit on the outside).

4) It means that Thanksgiving and the mad rush to Christmas will be just around the proverbial corner and that all the festive holiday decor will start showing up in your local Walgreens and other retail outlets in the next couple of weeks, if they aren’t already pulling out the ornaments and tinsel as I write this.

5) I don’t know why, but fall tends to bring back all my happy childhood memories. Maybe it’s the smell of fall that triggers these memories. I’m not sure.

6) I almost forgot. Fall means the return of the seasonal Starbucks drinks, including caramel apple spice, pumpkin spice and– my favorite– chegnogg, which for the uninitiated is chai egg nog late. I very highly recommend it.

I thought about posting a pretty picture of falling leaves or something very autumn-y, but I am feeling lazy and sleepy at the moment, so just use your imagination. It’s more fun that way.

A Different Take on Weddings

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I went to the wedding today. It was lovely, as just about all weddings are. As usual, many people put a lot of time and thought and effort into the planning and preparation.

Many people would say that the wedding day is all about the bride. That it’s her day to shine and it’s all about her. I would disagree. It’s not the bride’s mother’s day either, even though she’s dreamed of this day since her girl was little and serving imaginary tea to her dressed-up dolls.

In my humble opinion, the wedding day is all about Jesus. Or it should be. Anyone who really understands the depths of marriage and all its symbolism knows that it’s more than just the union of two people. The Bible in Ephesians reminds us that marriage is a picture of just how much Christ loves His Bride, the Church, and gave everything for her.

A biblical marriage is a lived-out testimony to that great love of Jesus for the Church. It’s about two people coming together to not only serve each other, but to serve others in a way that’s better than they each could individually.

I haven’t been married, but I know that marriage is hard. Probably harder in this anti-marriage culture than ever before. Only two people under the Lordship of Christ and each in love with Jesus can not only sustain a marriage and thrive in it. Only the indwelling Spirit of Christ can overcome the innate selfishness of two people that really shows its ugly head after the marriage begins.

So I’m happy for both the bride and groom. Nothing gives me more joy to see the bride in all her radiance walking down the aisle, looking more beautiful than ever. Nothing makes me smile than seeing the groom’s face when he sees his bride for the first time in her wedding gown.

But nothing beats the joy that knowing when a wedding truly celebrates Jesus and exalts Him to His rightful place in the marriage. Nothing blesses my heart more than when a wedding ceremony is truly a worship celebration.

One day when I get married, I hope it will truly be celebration of the goodness and greatness of God. I hope that it’s not my bride’s day or her mother’s day, but a day that belongs most of all to Jesus.

 

A Place to Belong

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“That’s plain enough, isn’t it? You’re no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He’s using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home” (Ephesians 2:19-22).

That’s what everybody is looking for, isn’t it? A place to belong? A place where we feel welcomed? I think so. We all want to be a part of something that is bigger than our individual selves.

No one likes to feel left out or unwanted. No one wants to feel ostracized and rejected.

That’s the beautiful part of the Gospel. God wants you to be a part of what He’s doing in the world. He wants you. Once you say YES to Him, you’re no longer a stranger or an alien or an outcast. You belong. You matter. You are now a child of the King.

That’s what the Church really is. A community of nobodies that God chose and gave a new name and purpose to. Strangers who now belong to God and to each other.

Maybe you know what it’s like to be picked last for a kickball team (or not picked at all). Maybe you know what it feels to be the only one not invited to a party. Maybe you know what it’s like when it seems like everyone is talking to everyone else in a group but you.

You have a purpose. You have a God that picked you because He wanted you and placed you in a family whose bond is stronger than flesh and blood.

You belong.

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day to the Best Mom Ever!

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Happy Mother’s Day to Delores Johnson, the best mom a guy ever had. Of all the moms I’ve ever had, you’re my favorite!

You took me to all those recitals and practics, including that ill-fated attempt at t-ball where all I did was play in the sandbox. Not to mention that aborted disaster that was gymnastics.

You took me to piano lessons, soccer practice, Boy Scouts, field trips, and to all those bookstores and music stores. It seemed like you must have logged a million miles on all those blue station wagons.

You took care of me when I got sick and made me feel better. You gave me crackers and coke for when I couldn’t hold anything else down. You kissed all my boo-boos and made them go away.

You survived my 10th birthday party at the skating rink at East End with all my 4th grade friends. You even managed to keep most of your sanity intact.

You were with us through the loss of three dogs and one parakeet, not forgetting those short-lived sea monkeys who prematurely expired due to a badly-thrown nerf football.

I always loved opening my lunchbox on Valentine’s Day and finding those little shoebox cards inside with those Little Debbie cakes.

You made vacations fun. You made rainy days fun. You made life fun.

I love you lots and in case I didn’t ever tell you before, you’re my hero. You’re one of the best, godliest women I know and if the woman I marry is half of who you are, I will be blessed indeed.

Lucy has read all the above and gives her two paws up as sign of her consent.

Happy Mother’s Day!