Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 103
January 7, 2018
The End of the Christmas Season
On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Matthew 2:11 (New International Version)
For many Christians around the world, yesterday, January 6, was Epiphany. It is most commonly the day on which we observe the Wise men arriving at the home of the newborn baby Jesus. Since the Wise men were not Jewish, their visit is more important than just the gifts they brought to the Savior. The Wise men represent the gentiles, so they signify that Jesus came to save everyone not just the Jews.
The word 'Epiphany' comes from the Greek word for 'manifestation' or ‘revelation’. Thus, it is the day we celebrate God manifesting or revealing His son Jesus to us, to all mankind.
According to Webster’s Dictionary an epiphany can be the appearance or manifestation of a divine being, but can also be the sudden perception of the essential nature or meaning of something, an intuitive grasp of reality through something simple and striking, an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure, or a revealing scene or moment. It’s the ‘ah-ha’ moment we sometimes experience when we feel as if we’ve see the light.
Isn’t that appropriate? As seeing Jesus is also seeing the Light.
One other thing I discovered in my research of epiphany is that it also commemorates the end of the Christmas season. Some cultures believe that it is the day on which we should remove all of our Christmas decorations and if you don’t, you need to leave them up until next year or you will suffer bad luck. Good thing I don’t believe in superstitions, or my Christmas decorations would have to stay up year-round.
Are your decorations all tucked away until next year? Mine aren’t. I wish I could leave them up year-round, not only because of their beauty, but to remind me of God’s revealing of His Son.
Thank You, Father God, for sending us Your Son as an innocent Baby. Thank You for loving us so much that You were willing to sacrifice Him for our own salvation. Amen
For many Christians around the world, yesterday, January 6, was Epiphany. It is most commonly the day on which we observe the Wise men arriving at the home of the newborn baby Jesus. Since the Wise men were not Jewish, their visit is more important than just the gifts they brought to the Savior. The Wise men represent the gentiles, so they signify that Jesus came to save everyone not just the Jews.
The word 'Epiphany' comes from the Greek word for 'manifestation' or ‘revelation’. Thus, it is the day we celebrate God manifesting or revealing His son Jesus to us, to all mankind.
According to Webster’s Dictionary an epiphany can be the appearance or manifestation of a divine being, but can also be the sudden perception of the essential nature or meaning of something, an intuitive grasp of reality through something simple and striking, an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure, or a revealing scene or moment. It’s the ‘ah-ha’ moment we sometimes experience when we feel as if we’ve see the light.
Isn’t that appropriate? As seeing Jesus is also seeing the Light.
One other thing I discovered in my research of epiphany is that it also commemorates the end of the Christmas season. Some cultures believe that it is the day on which we should remove all of our Christmas decorations and if you don’t, you need to leave them up until next year or you will suffer bad luck. Good thing I don’t believe in superstitions, or my Christmas decorations would have to stay up year-round.
Are your decorations all tucked away until next year? Mine aren’t. I wish I could leave them up year-round, not only because of their beauty, but to remind me of God’s revealing of His Son.
Thank You, Father God, for sending us Your Son as an innocent Baby. Thank You for loving us so much that You were willing to sacrifice Him for our own salvation. Amen
January 5, 2018
What's on your feet?
After Hubby and I were off last week, I am still trying to get back in my groove. We spent last week staying up until ten o’clock and getting up at six, or even later. Like normal people. Now that Hubby is back to work, we’re trying to get to bed by 8:30, so he can get up by 4:30. Which means, I don’t have much time in the evenings to get anything done and here it is three in the morning and I can’t sleep.
Yup, that’s my usual schedule.
So, here I am at 3:21 trying to decide what to write for my Friday blog. I finally wrote down my list of ideas, but have decided it’s time to share an excerpt from my novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”. Last fall, I was occasionally posting passages from the ‘lost files’, but today I thought I should post something that is actually in the book.
Chapter 6“JENNY,” PAUL WHISPERED. “How is the boy?” She slowly roused, sitting up straight in the uncomfortable chair next to their bed. “He’s been sleeping all afternoon.” She looked at the bed, which made him appear so small, so defenseless. His thin frame barely made a lump under the covers. She glanced at the floor next to the bed and the two dark objects lying there that she hadn’t noticed before. She walked to the bed and studied the pile. They were definitely made of rubber and one side looked like the tread of a tire. He does have shoes, it dawned on her. Rough sandals made of used tires. “Oh, Paul,” she cried. “Look at his shoes. What kind of shoes are those?” Paul tilted his head as if in thought. “They’re shoes that protect the soles of his feet. That’s all he needs.” But what is protecting his soul?
Not a very long passage, but with it still being the post-Christmas season, it was fitting to have another reminder of all the things we had under our trees Christmas morning and of all the thing we take for granted.
Another reminder is that I am still looking for reviews of the book. If you haven’t posted yours yet, I’d really appreciate it if you’d take a few minutes today to do so. Once I reach my goal of 40 reviews on Amazon, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Thanks!
It didn't take me long to find not one, but two pictures with such shoes.
The first one is Maasai boys - the one of the right could be Ole. The second is actually my daughter's feet.
She took both pictures when she was in Kenya for six months in 2010.
Yup, that’s my usual schedule.
So, here I am at 3:21 trying to decide what to write for my Friday blog. I finally wrote down my list of ideas, but have decided it’s time to share an excerpt from my novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”. Last fall, I was occasionally posting passages from the ‘lost files’, but today I thought I should post something that is actually in the book.
Chapter 6“JENNY,” PAUL WHISPERED. “How is the boy?” She slowly roused, sitting up straight in the uncomfortable chair next to their bed. “He’s been sleeping all afternoon.” She looked at the bed, which made him appear so small, so defenseless. His thin frame barely made a lump under the covers. She glanced at the floor next to the bed and the two dark objects lying there that she hadn’t noticed before. She walked to the bed and studied the pile. They were definitely made of rubber and one side looked like the tread of a tire. He does have shoes, it dawned on her. Rough sandals made of used tires. “Oh, Paul,” she cried. “Look at his shoes. What kind of shoes are those?” Paul tilted his head as if in thought. “They’re shoes that protect the soles of his feet. That’s all he needs.” But what is protecting his soul?
Not a very long passage, but with it still being the post-Christmas season, it was fitting to have another reminder of all the things we had under our trees Christmas morning and of all the thing we take for granted. Another reminder is that I am still looking for reviews of the book. If you haven’t posted yours yet, I’d really appreciate it if you’d take a few minutes today to do so. Once I reach my goal of 40 reviews on Amazon, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Thanks!
It didn't take me long to find not one, but two pictures with such shoes. The first one is Maasai boys - the one of the right could be Ole. The second is actually my daughter's feet.
She took both pictures when she was in Kenya for six months in 2010.
January 3, 2018
Meet Brother Cecil
All during the month of December, as I was researching and writing about all the things we see which remind us of Christmas, from bells to angels to Christmas trees, I was also thinking of all the things I could write about once January came and I could blog about whatever I wanted. Yet here I am, today, trying to think of something.
Oh, a few of those ideas are still bouncing around in my head, but they also are going to take too long to write about. I always write my articles or stories the night before and then post them first thing in the morning. I’m tired tonight, it’s getting late and I want to get to bed.
I decided to share with you an excerpt from my current WIP (“work in progress”). The title is “The Truth Beyond the River” and that’s all I’m going to tell you about it right now. I finished writing it in November and am going to spend the next couple months editing it. Just like with the first novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, as much as I love the story now, by the time I am done with it, I will be so sick of it. Most writers would probably say the same thing.
Brother Cecil hung the hoe on its hook and turned to leave the empty barn. He slid the door shut behind him and secured the latch. With a sigh, he began the long march back to the Big House, his robes rustling as he walked. In the heat of the early July afternoon, he hardly broke a sweat. Years in the long wool robes had acclimated his body. That, or perhaps the years had thinned his blood. Any amount of heat brought welcome relief from the cold ache in his bones.Behind the barn, the open field sat vacant. The cattle had all been sold and slaughtered, no doubt already on their way to someone’s kitchen table. Only a few chickens remained in the chicken coop, and he was grateful for the fresh eggs they blessed him with each day. Brother Cecil stopped beside the three-acre garden plot to inspect his plants. Green beans half the length of his index finger but not much bigger around than a pencil lead clung to the small plants. The corn plants were not a foot-high, a bad sign with the Fourth of July looming. Knowing since early winter that he would be here alone come harvest, he had sparsely planted the garden - a row of beans, a row of corn, a trail of peas along the fence, a hill of squash, a half dozen tomato plants. In the distance, the picturesque chapel stood as a sentinel over the grounds. Its only stained-glass window, the round one over the front double doors, seemed to glow even though there should be no light inside. Brother Cecil shook his head. “Surely God is still inside,” he said out loud though no one was within hearing, except the sparrows who had taken up residence in the barn. “Ah, the good Lord is out here though, too. Eh?” He looked up at the blue sky and winked.
Hope you liked it and want to read more. Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait for a bit. In the meantime, however, if you haven’t read “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, it’s about time you did. And don’t forget to post a review of it on Amazon.com. My goal is to have 40 reviews and I’m only halfway there.
Promise to be more ambitious later in the week.
Though Brother Cecil didn't see sandhill cranes in his field that day, this is what it may have looked like. This picture was taken this past summer just a few miles from where I imagine Brother Cecil's home to be.
Oh, a few of those ideas are still bouncing around in my head, but they also are going to take too long to write about. I always write my articles or stories the night before and then post them first thing in the morning. I’m tired tonight, it’s getting late and I want to get to bed.
I decided to share with you an excerpt from my current WIP (“work in progress”). The title is “The Truth Beyond the River” and that’s all I’m going to tell you about it right now. I finished writing it in November and am going to spend the next couple months editing it. Just like with the first novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, as much as I love the story now, by the time I am done with it, I will be so sick of it. Most writers would probably say the same thing.
Brother Cecil hung the hoe on its hook and turned to leave the empty barn. He slid the door shut behind him and secured the latch. With a sigh, he began the long march back to the Big House, his robes rustling as he walked. In the heat of the early July afternoon, he hardly broke a sweat. Years in the long wool robes had acclimated his body. That, or perhaps the years had thinned his blood. Any amount of heat brought welcome relief from the cold ache in his bones.Behind the barn, the open field sat vacant. The cattle had all been sold and slaughtered, no doubt already on their way to someone’s kitchen table. Only a few chickens remained in the chicken coop, and he was grateful for the fresh eggs they blessed him with each day. Brother Cecil stopped beside the three-acre garden plot to inspect his plants. Green beans half the length of his index finger but not much bigger around than a pencil lead clung to the small plants. The corn plants were not a foot-high, a bad sign with the Fourth of July looming. Knowing since early winter that he would be here alone come harvest, he had sparsely planted the garden - a row of beans, a row of corn, a trail of peas along the fence, a hill of squash, a half dozen tomato plants. In the distance, the picturesque chapel stood as a sentinel over the grounds. Its only stained-glass window, the round one over the front double doors, seemed to glow even though there should be no light inside. Brother Cecil shook his head. “Surely God is still inside,” he said out loud though no one was within hearing, except the sparrows who had taken up residence in the barn. “Ah, the good Lord is out here though, too. Eh?” He looked up at the blue sky and winked.
Hope you liked it and want to read more. Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait for a bit. In the meantime, however, if you haven’t read “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, it’s about time you did. And don’t forget to post a review of it on Amazon.com. My goal is to have 40 reviews and I’m only halfway there.
Promise to be more ambitious later in the week.
Though Brother Cecil didn't see sandhill cranes in his field that day, this is what it may have looked like. This picture was taken this past summer just a few miles from where I imagine Brother Cecil's home to be. December 31, 2017
Moving On
“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 (NIV)
The first Sunday in December, I began a month-long series of blog posts about the symbols and traditions of the Christmas season. You might think that it was fun doing all that research – and it was, to a point. But actually I read about a lot of things which really bothered me. On top of that, a pastor told me the origins of the peace symbol from the sixties. All in all, I found out things I really didn’t want to know.
Sometimes, I like to wear my Pollyanna glasses, believe in the best in people, believe that good always triumphs over evil, believe that more people will be saved in the end times than will go to hell. I guess I just don’t want to think of those bad things. And though I know that God will reign victorious in the end, I am scared by all the mess we will make of this world before then.
‘Sigh’. Ok, here’s what’s up. Did you know that most Christmas traditions, even the date of December 25, has origins in pagan beliefs and rituals? These aren’t just secular things, which have no connection to Christianity; these were folks who worshiped satan, performed human sacrifices and participated in all sorts of hedonistic activities.
One example is the seemingly innocent mistletoe. It is supposed to possess mystical powers which bring good luck to the household and wards off evil spirits. Druid priests used it in their sacrifices to the gods and Celtic people thought it possessed miraculous healing powers. It supposedly not only cured diseases, but could also render poisons harmless, make humans and animals prolific, keep one safe from witchcraft, protect the house from ghosts and even make them speak. Some of those claims sound pretty good, but how is it going to protect me from witchcraft and ghosts? Only God can do that.
So, here’s the only thing that should matter to me. Jesus was born in a humble stable some two thousand years ago to save all mankind, or at least everyone who believes, and it doesn’t matter what day of the year that occurred. We should celebrate his birth every day, right? And not focus so much on the tree and the lights and the gift-giving and all the hoopla.
But here we are on New Year’s Eve, so I can put all the hoopla behind me, right?
Well, if I thought there was a lot on the internet about the bad places our Christmas traditions came from, I was really in for it when I started reading about our New Year’s traditions. The whole idea of welcoming the new year circled around making the gods happy. Originally the new year was celebrated in the spring, the time of year for renewal and growth, and also the time to really keep the gods happy so they would supply a good year’s crop. Eventually the new year began being observed the first of January, because the name of that month came from Janus, the Roman god of beginnings. Apparently, the only way to honor Janus was through riotous excess and pleasure-seeking.
Things declined from there.
I’ve never been big on celebrating the New Year, I never saw the point. And after reading all of this, I really don’t want to celebrate.
I look at the world we are living in and it makes me so sad to see so many people turning from God in search of satisfying their own pleasures. They don’t understand that God is okay with them having good, clean fun, that He wants them to be happy, but happiness isn’t found just in this Earthly life.
But I will take heart. I know that God has got this covered.
Lord, God, Heavenly Father, thank You for sending Your Son to save all believers. Grant me Your peace and carry me when I waver. If it be Your will, give me the words, the actions to bring non-believers to You. Allow me to shine for others and demonstrate to them Your unfailing love. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
December 27, 2017
The Month of Christmas
The first of December, when I decided to blog three times a week between now and the end of the year about the various symbols we have for Christmas, I made up a list of items which would take me to New Year’s Eve. I even had an excess of thoughts on that list, but here it is, several days past Christmas, and instead of sticking to those things, I’m going to just recap my holiday for you.
My Christmas season started weeks before the 25th, as I’m sure yours did. A trip to Menard’s on the first of the month, revealed that Santa was already exhausted.
I’m not making this stuff up. I went around the corner and found another Santa down. But I did my duty and picked them both back up again.
I always bake at least five batches of cookies. I don’t know why – tradition, right? So I broke with tradition and thought I’d try something new. Ended up making the ugliest cookies ever. They taste okay at least.
Santa made his usual stop at the clinic where I work.
Two days before Christmas, my cousin hosted her annual party for the extended family. A good time was had by all and I even got a picture with my sister.
Since my own kids are 27 and 31, it has been a while since I had little ones around on Christmas morning. But I still have always kept up the Santa-façade. I was thrilled then when my daughter told me only a couple days ago that she and her husband would be bringing his nine-year-old son to our house for Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I wasn’t quite as thrilled by his hair style, but – hey – like my hair would win any awards?
Of course, we also had my ten-year-old, my son’s five-year-old and my daughter’s three-year-old and seven-month old.
Which was also great, coz every boy needs a dog. Or two.
And lots of flannel.
And lots of food.
My family hopes you had just as happy a Christmas as we did. And are wishing you an even happier New Year.
My Christmas season started weeks before the 25th, as I’m sure yours did. A trip to Menard’s on the first of the month, revealed that Santa was already exhausted.
I’m not making this stuff up. I went around the corner and found another Santa down. But I did my duty and picked them both back up again.
I always bake at least five batches of cookies. I don’t know why – tradition, right? So I broke with tradition and thought I’d try something new. Ended up making the ugliest cookies ever. They taste okay at least.
Santa made his usual stop at the clinic where I work.
Two days before Christmas, my cousin hosted her annual party for the extended family. A good time was had by all and I even got a picture with my sister.
Since my own kids are 27 and 31, it has been a while since I had little ones around on Christmas morning. But I still have always kept up the Santa-façade. I was thrilled then when my daughter told me only a couple days ago that she and her husband would be bringing his nine-year-old son to our house for Christmas Eve and Christmas day. I wasn’t quite as thrilled by his hair style, but – hey – like my hair would win any awards?
Of course, we also had my ten-year-old, my son’s five-year-old and my daughter’s three-year-old and seven-month old.
Which was also great, coz every boy needs a dog. Or two.
And lots of flannel.
And lots of food.
My family hopes you had just as happy a Christmas as we did. And are wishing you an even happier New Year.
December 24, 2017
The Traditional Nativity Scene
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. (Luke 2:6-7 New International Version)
The inception of the nativity scene is credited to St. Francis of Assisi. In 1223, St. Francis got permission from Pope Honorious III to set up a manger with hay and two live animals—an ox and an ass—in a cave in the Italian village of Grecio. He then invited the villagers to view the scene while he talked about the birth of Jesus.
The idea of staging a nativity scene grew from there, spreading throughout Europe over the next couple of centuries.
The traditional nativity includes not only Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus, but also an angel, the shepherds, the three wise men, as well as sheep, donkeys, and cattle. In the Biblical account of the birth of Jesus, however, only the shepherds made an appearance. The wise men didn’t show up for weeks, perhaps even months, long after the new parents had left the stable and settled elsewhere.
I suppose people put the barnyard animals in the nativity scene because if that’s where the Babe was born, surely the animals would be looking on. None of them are mentioned of Matthew or Luke, the only books of the Gospel which talk about Jesus’ birth. In Isaiah, the book of the old Testament which prophesizes this event, we do find this verse which sure makes it sound like at least one cow and one donkey were there.
The ox knows its master, the donkey its owner’s manger, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” (Isaiah 1:3 New International Version)
In general, I don’t think it’s worth it to get bogged down in the details. The important thing to remember is that Jesus was born in the most humble of settings, declaring that He is King of all mankind.
Wishing you and yours many blessings this Christmas.
Is this too many?
I'm pretty sure the original "stable" looked nothing like this.
Not quite sure who all these characters are.
I really don't know who or what these characters are.
I'm sure this are supposed to be sheep, but don't they look like seals? Is this where Christmas Seals comes from? (If you want to read more about what the nativity scene should and shouldn't be, I feel this article is the most accurate I've found. Click here.)
The inception of the nativity scene is credited to St. Francis of Assisi. In 1223, St. Francis got permission from Pope Honorious III to set up a manger with hay and two live animals—an ox and an ass—in a cave in the Italian village of Grecio. He then invited the villagers to view the scene while he talked about the birth of Jesus.
The idea of staging a nativity scene grew from there, spreading throughout Europe over the next couple of centuries.
The traditional nativity includes not only Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus, but also an angel, the shepherds, the three wise men, as well as sheep, donkeys, and cattle. In the Biblical account of the birth of Jesus, however, only the shepherds made an appearance. The wise men didn’t show up for weeks, perhaps even months, long after the new parents had left the stable and settled elsewhere.
I suppose people put the barnyard animals in the nativity scene because if that’s where the Babe was born, surely the animals would be looking on. None of them are mentioned of Matthew or Luke, the only books of the Gospel which talk about Jesus’ birth. In Isaiah, the book of the old Testament which prophesizes this event, we do find this verse which sure makes it sound like at least one cow and one donkey were there.
The ox knows its master, the donkey its owner’s manger, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” (Isaiah 1:3 New International Version)
In general, I don’t think it’s worth it to get bogged down in the details. The important thing to remember is that Jesus was born in the most humble of settings, declaring that He is King of all mankind.
Wishing you and yours many blessings this Christmas.
Is this too many?
I'm pretty sure the original "stable" looked nothing like this.
Not quite sure who all these characters are.
I really don't know who or what these characters are.
I'm sure this are supposed to be sheep, but don't they look like seals? Is this where Christmas Seals comes from? (If you want to read more about what the nativity scene should and shouldn't be, I feel this article is the most accurate I've found. Click here.)
December 22, 2017
Santa's Deer
Here we are just a few days away from Christmas. Children around the world are anticipating the arrival of Santa Claus and hoping that the night sky is clear for the reindeer to make their flight.
Reindeer were widespread throughout the Scandinavian and Eastern European countries for thousands of years, and in the 18th century, they were domesticated, used for transportation, pulling sleds and sleighs.
In 1821, William Gilley published a sixteen page booklet by an anonymous author. In the book, reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh for the first time:
Old Santa Claus with much delightHis reindeer drives this frosty night.O'er chimney tops, and tracks of snow,To bring his yearly gifts to you.
In 1823, Clement Clarke Moore wrote “A Visit From St. Nicholas”, commonly known as “The Night Before Christmas”.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,With a little old driver, so lively and quickI knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,And he whistled and shouted and called them by name;"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall!Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
The ninth reindeer, the very famous Rudolph, was added in 1949, based on the story by Robert L. May.
Prior to that, however, in the 1920s, when reindeer were introduced in Alaska, businessman Carl Lomen saw the commercial, mass-market possibilities of reindeer meat and fur for the United States. At one point the Lomen Reindeer Co. owned more than a quarter-million reindeer.
In 1926, Lomen worked with Macy's department store to hold a Christmas parade led by Santa, his reindeer, and a sleigh. Eventually, similar parades were held in cities around the country. The eating of reindeer meat never took off in America, and Lomen ended up going out of business. But thanks to him, and those three writers, we have in our heads the picture of those eight reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh.
Sorry that I couldn't find any pictures of reindeer in my files. These whitetail from my backyard will have to do.
Reindeer were widespread throughout the Scandinavian and Eastern European countries for thousands of years, and in the 18th century, they were domesticated, used for transportation, pulling sleds and sleighs.
In 1821, William Gilley published a sixteen page booklet by an anonymous author. In the book, reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh for the first time:
Old Santa Claus with much delightHis reindeer drives this frosty night.O'er chimney tops, and tracks of snow,To bring his yearly gifts to you.
In 1823, Clement Clarke Moore wrote “A Visit From St. Nicholas”, commonly known as “The Night Before Christmas”.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,With a little old driver, so lively and quickI knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,And he whistled and shouted and called them by name;"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall!Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all!"
The ninth reindeer, the very famous Rudolph, was added in 1949, based on the story by Robert L. May.
Prior to that, however, in the 1920s, when reindeer were introduced in Alaska, businessman Carl Lomen saw the commercial, mass-market possibilities of reindeer meat and fur for the United States. At one point the Lomen Reindeer Co. owned more than a quarter-million reindeer.
In 1926, Lomen worked with Macy's department store to hold a Christmas parade led by Santa, his reindeer, and a sleigh. Eventually, similar parades were held in cities around the country. The eating of reindeer meat never took off in America, and Lomen ended up going out of business. But thanks to him, and those three writers, we have in our heads the picture of those eight reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh.
Sorry that I couldn't find any pictures of reindeer in my files. These whitetail from my backyard will have to do. December 20, 2017
One thousand Christmas Cards
In 1843, Sir Henry Cole had recently helped to set up what would become the Postal System in the UK and was looking for a way to increase use of the service, especially by ordinary people. He and an artist friend, John Horsley, designed and produced the first Christmas card. They printed and sold around 1,000 of these cards.
Sometimes I feel like I have bought and mailed 1,000 cards each year.
Every year, I think to myself, maybe I won’t send out cards this year. Maybe I’ll do something more creative (and cheaper) on Facebook or email. Then I also wonder if I should write the Christmas letter. You know, the letter that some people send out with their cards recapping their year (as if everyone hasn’t followed everyone else’s every move on social media).
And every year, just about the time that I decide to nix it all, my competitive nature kicks in. Hubby and I each have our lists of people we send cards to – we have it divided pretty much in half, between his friends and relatives and mine. By gum, if he’s going to mail out cards to his list, I’m going to mail them to mine. And before he does.
This year I failed at that miserably. He wrote out all his cards and mailed them in one day last week, while I was still debating the whole situation. So one night shortly after that, some time after midnight, I crawled out of bed and typed up my Christmas letter. I had a busy weekend, but fully intended to address my cards on Sunday evening. That didn’t happen, instead, when I couldn’t sleep, I crawled out of bed at 2:30 Monday morning and addressed them all.
Is this what Christmas is all about? Sharing joy and cheer at the cost of several nights’ sleep? Probably not, but if you didn't get a Christmas card from me this year, don’t think I didn’t try. It’s anybody’s guess what I actually wrote on some of those envelopes in the middle of the night.
In case you didn't get the 'Christmas letter', here it is. Here we are, another Christmas season. And once again I have been debating over the last month as to whether or not to send out a Christmas letter.
2017 was not a good year. Nope, not good at all. You probably know most of it – not only losing Mom in February, but a long list of other friends and relatives. I also spent more time in the ER and at doctor’s appointments for myself than I ever have. Hubby, too.
I keep things in perspective, though. None of our ailments have been life-threatening, we are both still gainfully employed, and we have the money (and the insurance) to pay those medical bills.
Mom is in a better place; she is no longer suffering. Even though her death seemed to come on quite suddenly, in and out of the hospital and nursing home over just one month, when I look at pictures of her from the last few years, I can imagine the suffering she had been silently going through for a long time.
All those other friends and relatives? Some of them were suffering too, struggling for years with pain and disability, or just plain had reached the end of a long and productive life. A few, however, died way too young and leave us questioning what God is thinking at times.
My kids remain healthy, at least. Nick is still at the same job for the last five years, I believe. He keeps talking about wanting something else, but hasn’t made much of an effort.
Val lost her job in November, but considers it a blessing as now she has the motivation to look for something else, and try to get out of the food service industry. The pay has been good for her, but there are no benefits and the hours stink when you work at a restaurant. Her husband is still working in that industry, but is hoping to cut back his hours so they can spend more time together working on their house.
I went to Kenya with Val in April. We had a successful trip, working on a rabbit project at the school we’ve been working with there. She and Nick are talking about returning in the Spring, but haven’t made definite plans yet. I’d like to go back next Fall, to do a medical outreach and I will begin working on that soon.
I am still at the clinic in town. In June it will be 30 years that I have been with the same organization – or at least I haven’t gone anywhere else, even though the organization has changed hands or merged several times in those years.
Himey is still at Lincoln Hills, but is talking about retiring in 2018. It is so stressful there, as you may be able to imagine, especially if you listen to the local news (which doesn’t even come close to telling the truth about what goes on there).
My novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, finally was published. It was supposed to be out sometime in the late Spring, but took until September to be released. That delay added to my long list of stress for the year, but along with everything else, I try to keep that in perspective.
If you haven’t read the book, you can order it from Amazon.com or Barnes and Noble, or let me know and I can send you a signed copy. I am also anxiously waiting for more reviews of it. I’d appreciate any help I can get in spreading the word.
In November I finished writing my second novel. I hope to edit it in the next months and get that published within the year.
Umm, I guess that’s about it. Dino and our four cats are still doing well, as are my three grandpuppies.
Mostly, I am looking forward to a better 2018. And wishing you a good year as well.
Sometimes I feel like I have bought and mailed 1,000 cards each year.
Every year, I think to myself, maybe I won’t send out cards this year. Maybe I’ll do something more creative (and cheaper) on Facebook or email. Then I also wonder if I should write the Christmas letter. You know, the letter that some people send out with their cards recapping their year (as if everyone hasn’t followed everyone else’s every move on social media).
And every year, just about the time that I decide to nix it all, my competitive nature kicks in. Hubby and I each have our lists of people we send cards to – we have it divided pretty much in half, between his friends and relatives and mine. By gum, if he’s going to mail out cards to his list, I’m going to mail them to mine. And before he does.
This year I failed at that miserably. He wrote out all his cards and mailed them in one day last week, while I was still debating the whole situation. So one night shortly after that, some time after midnight, I crawled out of bed and typed up my Christmas letter. I had a busy weekend, but fully intended to address my cards on Sunday evening. That didn’t happen, instead, when I couldn’t sleep, I crawled out of bed at 2:30 Monday morning and addressed them all.
Is this what Christmas is all about? Sharing joy and cheer at the cost of several nights’ sleep? Probably not, but if you didn't get a Christmas card from me this year, don’t think I didn’t try. It’s anybody’s guess what I actually wrote on some of those envelopes in the middle of the night.
In case you didn't get the 'Christmas letter', here it is. Here we are, another Christmas season. And once again I have been debating over the last month as to whether or not to send out a Christmas letter. 2017 was not a good year. Nope, not good at all. You probably know most of it – not only losing Mom in February, but a long list of other friends and relatives. I also spent more time in the ER and at doctor’s appointments for myself than I ever have. Hubby, too.
I keep things in perspective, though. None of our ailments have been life-threatening, we are both still gainfully employed, and we have the money (and the insurance) to pay those medical bills.
Mom is in a better place; she is no longer suffering. Even though her death seemed to come on quite suddenly, in and out of the hospital and nursing home over just one month, when I look at pictures of her from the last few years, I can imagine the suffering she had been silently going through for a long time.
All those other friends and relatives? Some of them were suffering too, struggling for years with pain and disability, or just plain had reached the end of a long and productive life. A few, however, died way too young and leave us questioning what God is thinking at times.
My kids remain healthy, at least. Nick is still at the same job for the last five years, I believe. He keeps talking about wanting something else, but hasn’t made much of an effort.
Val lost her job in November, but considers it a blessing as now she has the motivation to look for something else, and try to get out of the food service industry. The pay has been good for her, but there are no benefits and the hours stink when you work at a restaurant. Her husband is still working in that industry, but is hoping to cut back his hours so they can spend more time together working on their house.
I went to Kenya with Val in April. We had a successful trip, working on a rabbit project at the school we’ve been working with there. She and Nick are talking about returning in the Spring, but haven’t made definite plans yet. I’d like to go back next Fall, to do a medical outreach and I will begin working on that soon.
I am still at the clinic in town. In June it will be 30 years that I have been with the same organization – or at least I haven’t gone anywhere else, even though the organization has changed hands or merged several times in those years.
Himey is still at Lincoln Hills, but is talking about retiring in 2018. It is so stressful there, as you may be able to imagine, especially if you listen to the local news (which doesn’t even come close to telling the truth about what goes on there).
My novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, finally was published. It was supposed to be out sometime in the late Spring, but took until September to be released. That delay added to my long list of stress for the year, but along with everything else, I try to keep that in perspective.
If you haven’t read the book, you can order it from Amazon.com or Barnes and Noble, or let me know and I can send you a signed copy. I am also anxiously waiting for more reviews of it. I’d appreciate any help I can get in spreading the word.
In November I finished writing my second novel. I hope to edit it in the next months and get that published within the year.
Umm, I guess that’s about it. Dino and our four cats are still doing well, as are my three grandpuppies.
Mostly, I am looking forward to a better 2018. And wishing you a good year as well.
December 17, 2017
Angels at Christmas
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” Luke 2:8-15 (New International Version)
In modern culture, we say that there are angels among us, lucky individuals might have a guardian angel, someone is an angel who commits an act of kindness, our loved ones in heaven have become angels and that there are fallen angels. Over the centuries, angels have been given wings and halos, along with supernatural abilities (or course they are supernatural beings, so that only makes sense).
Angels make appearances throughout the Bible, from Genesis through Revaluations. The term “angel” originates from the Greek word for messenger, and angels most offer did bring messages to people of the Bible. They could also be fierce warriors as in the angel Michael, who rages war against evil.
How did angels become associated with Christmas? From verses such as the one above, it is easy to understand how. Some time after the first fir trees started being decorated for Christmas (see my previous post), people began putting angels on the top of their trees. And that tinsel my mom insisted on putting on our tree? It was originally used to symbolize angel hair.
And just like in that Christmas tree post, there is so much more to say about angels that I don't have time for.
Not my favorite angel, but the only one I already had a picture of.
In modern culture, we say that there are angels among us, lucky individuals might have a guardian angel, someone is an angel who commits an act of kindness, our loved ones in heaven have become angels and that there are fallen angels. Over the centuries, angels have been given wings and halos, along with supernatural abilities (or course they are supernatural beings, so that only makes sense).
Angels make appearances throughout the Bible, from Genesis through Revaluations. The term “angel” originates from the Greek word for messenger, and angels most offer did bring messages to people of the Bible. They could also be fierce warriors as in the angel Michael, who rages war against evil.
How did angels become associated with Christmas? From verses such as the one above, it is easy to understand how. Some time after the first fir trees started being decorated for Christmas (see my previous post), people began putting angels on the top of their trees. And that tinsel my mom insisted on putting on our tree? It was originally used to symbolize angel hair.
And just like in that Christmas tree post, there is so much more to say about angels that I don't have time for.
Not my favorite angel, but the only one I already had a picture of. December 15, 2017
The Elves are Where?
Last Friday I blogged about the main attraction for many kids this time of year – Father Christmas, Papa Elf, the Jolly Ol’ Elf, the Fat Guy in Red. You know who I mean. Today, how about reading about the rest of the elves, the little helper bees who make all that Santa is known for actually happen.
Elves, and all their compadres such as fairies, gnomes, trolls, pixies and the like, have been part of European folklore for centuries. In the mid-1800s, according to Scandinavian legend, elves began to reveal their true purpose when they became helpers to Santa. Turns out that elves have a natural proclivity towards two things – making toys and taking care of reindeer. They are still not perfect workers, however, as most elves have a tendency towards mischief.
I didn’t have much luck discovering on-line where the picture of the classic Christmas Elf comes from – the pointy ears, pointy hat, pointy-toed shoes, green and red costume, tights which are sometimes striped, perpetual smile. I didn’t have much luck discovering much else about the history of the Elf, more elusive than Papa Elf.
The movie “Elf” doesn’t clear up a lot of those questions, as after all, it is just a movie. And we all trust what we read on the internet more than what we see in a movie, right? Right. But anyway, it’s still a great Christmas classic and Buddy the Elf is the epitome of spreading joy and happiness during the Christmas season.
Luckily the Elf on the Shelf concept came out after my kids were well past the stage of believing in the make-believe. Yesterday, I asked a co-worker who has a young child what this Elf on the Shelf thing is all about. She told me that their family’s elf (I forgot his name already) is rather a mischief-maker, messing up its child’s room and arriving back from the North Pole each morning in some rather interesting places, ie, hanging from the ceiling fan. The whole idea of this elf on the shelf sounds overwhelming to me. When I was a mom with little kids at home, I had enough work to do just getting them ready in the morning without having to worry about where my elf was going to show up.
(Go to the Wikipedia article about Elf on the Shelf and read to the end where the experts give their criticisms on this trend. Are they nuts, or what?)
Needless to say, I don’t have a elf on the shelf, or anywhere else for that matter. I have enough other Christmas decorations. Don’t anybody get any ideas about inundating me with elves.
Nope, instead I got penguins on a shelf . . .
And snowmen on a shelf . . .
Dolls in a house . . .
And Peanuts on the floor. And not a rhyme in sight.
And I'm okay with that.
Elves, and all their compadres such as fairies, gnomes, trolls, pixies and the like, have been part of European folklore for centuries. In the mid-1800s, according to Scandinavian legend, elves began to reveal their true purpose when they became helpers to Santa. Turns out that elves have a natural proclivity towards two things – making toys and taking care of reindeer. They are still not perfect workers, however, as most elves have a tendency towards mischief.
I didn’t have much luck discovering on-line where the picture of the classic Christmas Elf comes from – the pointy ears, pointy hat, pointy-toed shoes, green and red costume, tights which are sometimes striped, perpetual smile. I didn’t have much luck discovering much else about the history of the Elf, more elusive than Papa Elf.
The movie “Elf” doesn’t clear up a lot of those questions, as after all, it is just a movie. And we all trust what we read on the internet more than what we see in a movie, right? Right. But anyway, it’s still a great Christmas classic and Buddy the Elf is the epitome of spreading joy and happiness during the Christmas season.
Luckily the Elf on the Shelf concept came out after my kids were well past the stage of believing in the make-believe. Yesterday, I asked a co-worker who has a young child what this Elf on the Shelf thing is all about. She told me that their family’s elf (I forgot his name already) is rather a mischief-maker, messing up its child’s room and arriving back from the North Pole each morning in some rather interesting places, ie, hanging from the ceiling fan. The whole idea of this elf on the shelf sounds overwhelming to me. When I was a mom with little kids at home, I had enough work to do just getting them ready in the morning without having to worry about where my elf was going to show up.
(Go to the Wikipedia article about Elf on the Shelf and read to the end where the experts give their criticisms on this trend. Are they nuts, or what?)
Needless to say, I don’t have a elf on the shelf, or anywhere else for that matter. I have enough other Christmas decorations. Don’t anybody get any ideas about inundating me with elves.
Nope, instead I got penguins on a shelf . . .
And snowmen on a shelf . . . 
Dolls in a house . . .
And Peanuts on the floor. And not a rhyme in sight.
And I'm okay with that.
