Merry Christmas!

Found this on the Internet and wanted to share it with y'all. Here it is:


Joseph's Letter to Home

Dear Mom,

We're still in Bethlehem--Mary and I and little Jesus.

There were lots of things I couldn't talk to you about last summer. You wouldn't have believed me then, but maybe I can tell you now. I hope you can understand.

You know, Mom, I've always loved Mary. You and dad used to tease me about her when she was still a girl. She and her brothers used to play on our street. Our families got together for supper. But the hardest day of my life came scarcely a year ago when I was twenty and she only fifteen. You remember that day, don't you?

The trouble started after we were betrothed and signed the marriage agreement at our engagement. That same spring Mary had left abruptly to visit her old cousin Elizabeth in Judea. She was gone three whole months. After she got back, people started wondering out loud if she were pregnant.

It was cloudy the day when I finally confronted her with the gossip. "Mary," I asked at last, "are you going to have a baby?"

Her clear brown eyes met mine. She nodded.

I didn't know what to say. "Who?" I finally stammered.

Mom, Mary and I had never acted improperly--even after we were betrothed.

Mary looked down. "Joseph," she said. "There's no way I can explain. You couldn't understand. But I want you to know I've never cared for anyone but you." She got up, gently took my hands in hers, kissed each of them as if it were the last time she would ever do that again, and then turned towards home. She must have been dying inside. I know I was.

The rest of the day I stumbled through my chores. It's a wonder I didn't hurt myself in the woodshop. At first I was angry and pounded out my frustrations on the doorframe I was making. My thoughts whirled so fast I could hardly keep my mind on my work. At last I decided just to end the marriage contract with a quiet divorce. I loved her too much to make a public scene.
I couldn't talk to you. Or anyone, for that matter. I went to bed early and tried to sleep. Her words came to me over and over. "I've never cared for anyone but you.... I've never cared for anyone but you...." How I wished I could believe her!

I don't know when I finally fell asleep. Mom, I had a dream from God. An angel of the Lord came to me. His words pulsated through my mind so intensely I can remember them as if it were yesterday.

"Joseph, son of David," he thundered, "do not fear to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."

I couldn't believe my ears, Mom. This was the answer! The angel continued, "She will give birth to a Son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins."

The angel gripped my shoulders with his huge hands. For a long moment his gaze pierced deep within me. Just as he turned to go, I think I saw a smile on his shining face.

I sat bolt upright in bed. No sleep after that! I tossed about for a while, going over the words in my mind. Then I got up and dressed quietly so I wouldn't wake you.

I must have walked for miles beneath the moonless sky. Stars pricked the blackness like a thousand tiny pinpoints. A warm breeze blew on my face.

I sang to the Lord, Mom. Yes, me, singing, if you can imagine that. I couldn't contain my joy. I told Him that I would take Mary and care for her. I told Him I would watch over her--and the Child--no matter what anyone said.

I got back just as the sun kissed the hilltops. I don't know if you still recall that morning, Mom. I can see it in my mind's eye as if it were yesterday. You were feeding the chickens, surprised to see me out. Remember?

"Sit down," I said to you. "I've got to tell you something." I took your arm and helped you find a seat on the big rock out back. "Mom," I said, "I'm going to bring Mary home as my wife. Can you help make a place for her things?"

You were silent a long time. "You do know what they're saying, don't you, son?" you said at last, your eyes glistening.

"Yes, Mom, I know."

Your voice started to rise. "If your father were still alive, he'd have some words, I'll tell you. Going about like that before you are married. Disgracing the family and all. You... you and Mary ought to be ashamed of yourselves!"

You'd never have believed me if I'd tried to explain, so I didn't. Unless the angel had spoken to you, you'd have laughed me to scorn.

"Mom, this is the right thing to do," I said.

And then I started talking to you as if I were the head of the house. "When she comes I don't want one word to her about it," I sputtered. "She's your daughter-in-law, you'll respect her. She'll need your help if she's to bear the neighbors' wagging tongues!"

I'm sorry, Mom. You didn't deserve that. You started to get up in a huff.

"Mom," I murmured, "I need you." You took my hand and got to your feet, but the fire was gone from your eyes.

"You can count on me, Joseph," you told me with a long hug. And you meant it. I never heard another word. No bride could hope for a better mother-in-law than you those next few months.

Mom, after I left you I went up the road to Mary's house and knocked. Her mother glared at me as she opened the door. Loudly, harshly she called into the house, "It's Joseph!" almost spitting out my name as she said it.

My little Mary came out cringing, as if she expected me give her the back of my hand, I suppose. Her eyes were red and puffy. I can just imagine what her parents had said.

We walked a few steps from the house. She looked so young and afraid. "Pack your things, Mary," I told her gently. "I'm taking you home to be my wife."

"Joseph!" She hugged me as tight as she could. Mom, I didn't realize she was so strong.

I told her what I'd been planning. "We'll go to Rabbi Ben-Ezer's house this week and have him perform the ceremony."

I know it was awfully sudden, Mom, but I figured the sooner we got married the better it would be for her, and me, and the Baby.

"Mary, even if our friends don't come, at least you and I can pledge our love before God." I paused. "I think my Mom will be there. And maybe your friend Rebecca would come if her dad will let her. How about your parents?"

I could feel Mary's tiny frame shuddering as she sobbed quietly.

"Mary," I said. I could feel myself speaking more boldly. "No matter what anyone says about you, I'm proud you're going to be my wife. I'm going to take good care of you. I've promised God that."

She looked up.

I lowered my voice. "I had a dream last night, Mary. I saw an angel. I know."

The anguish which had gripped her face vanished. She was radiant as we turned away from the house and began to walk up the hill together.

Just then her mother ran out into the yard. "Wait," she called. She must have been listening from behind the door. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"I'll get your father," she called, almost giddy with emotion. "We," she cried as she gathered up her skirts. "We," she shouted as she began to run to find her husband. "We ... are going to have a wedding!"

That's how it was, Mom. Thanks for being there for us. I'll write again soon.

Love,
Joseph

The Great Washing Machine Repair Adventure

The washing machine we currently have is probably around 20 years old. And it's been slowing down more and more, and becoming more and more sluggish, for several months now. Finally we decided we'd had it when it was requiring three complete washes just to get the soap out of a load of clothes...in case that sentence was just a little too obtuse for some people, I'll clarify: A load of laundry, instead of being run through once, was requiring three washes! So my father and I decided to take a look inside and see what we could see. It was certainly an enlightening experience, as you will see from the following pictures. At any rate, when we were done we thought we had fixed it, since it seemed to be running fine then. As it turned out, we reduced it from a three to one ratio to a two to one ratio -- in other words, one load of laundry required two washes instead of one...which is better than three, but only barely. Which means we will probably soon be getting a new washing machine. Anyway, here are the pictures from our adventure:

Peekaboo!

Doctor, will the patient live?

The inside of an old washing machine...in case you ever wondered what it looked like :-)

A closer look at the inner workings of the washing machine

Uh, Dad...I don't think it's supposed to look like that...

Do we know where all those wires go?

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

First, to begin where I left off, I'll explain a little more about our Christmas Celebration and Remembrance. The potluck dinner was good, although I didn't really get to eat very much since I was in the play and they said it was time to begin before I was done munching! Anyway, I read the Magnificat in the first scene (My soul doth magnify the Lord... If you didn't know, that's Mary's prayer right after she visits her cousin Elizabeth). In scene 4, I sat with Joseph and looked pretty while the shepherds visited, and then while somebody sang Mary Did You Know (by the way, I love that song! It gives me goosebumps, especially when it says 'when you kiss your little baby, you kiss the face of God). In scene 5, Joseph and the young Jesus and I were visited by some Wise Men. All in all, it was a neat experience...except for the blood blister on my finger from getting caught when the stool they told me to sit on collapsed underneath me...OUCH!

We finally got our Christmas tree and got it all decorated, so here it is:

For a cookie exchange we had for our church, we had a couple neighborhood friends over to help us make mouse cookies, which we took to the exchange. They were a great hit, as you can probably guess just by seeing the pictures:

So anyway, that's about it for this post. I'm about to make another post about our washing machine repair escapade, which should be above by the time you are reading this. I want to wish you all a very merry Christmas, and blessings for the New Year!

Christmas Party and Play

I have only a quick minute, but I thought I'd post just a few pics from the party and play last night. I'll probably post more later, but here are a few:

The cake was delicious...and symbolic

My soul doth magnify the Lord...

Me, Joseph, and Baby Jesus

Joseph, Young Jesus, and me

That's all for now, I'll post more about it later.

Everything Else -- Part 2

O.K., to continue. The dermatologist (I wonder if that's the correct spelling?) appointment went pretty well, but not as expected. I had two moles (at least, I thought that's what they were -- the Dr. had some pretty interesting names for them, names I won't even try to pronounce) that we had her look at. The bigger one was on my back, has been there for many, many years -- since I was very small. She took both off for a 'biopsy' -- basically she took them off and they'll be tested now to make sure they're not, you know, malignant or something. The other one had been irritated recently, had seemingly dried up and part had fallen off, so they took a biopsy of that one too.

She was the same doctor that we've been going to for the acne that I've had since I was, like, 7 or so. My mom did not want me to have antibiotics for it, and she cooperated with us, prescribing instead several topical creams and lotions to apply at different times and for different reasons. As a result, my acne is almost completely cleared up. Thank You, Lord!

Tonight is the Christmas potluck and play for a group we belong to. I am one of the three Marys (I wonder if you would say Marys or Maries...interesting thought), it just depends on what scene it is as to which Mary you see. One girl is Mary in the scene where the angel visits her -- and in that same scene, I read the Magnificat. I'm in two other scenes, the one where the shepherds visit Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus, and the other where the Wise Men visit, but there's a different Mary for the scene where she and Joseph can't find room in an inn and have to have Jesus in a stable. The funniest part is that there's only one Joseph!

Oh, and Tuesday night I made cookies! For those of you who don't know me very well, let me explain that this is a rare occurence -- me baking/cooking anything. Part of the reason for that is that I am somewhat cooking-dyslexic -- I can follow a recipe pretty well, but if the directions are the type that Moms usually use -- i.e., a pinch of this, about a cup or so of that, enough of this to make it be the right consistency, that sort of thing -- I am not very good at following such directions. I like directions to be very exact and precise -- 1 cup this, 2 tablespoons that, 3 eggs, etc. The other reason is that I don't really enjoy cooking/baking usually, especially if it's something that I don't like to eat (like frozen mixed vegetables -- my dad likes them, I want to throw up just by smelling them). But in spite of all this, I made oatmeal butterscotch cookies, and I have proof:









They were delicious -- my dad took them to work with him and they were eaten all up. And, for once, I actually enjoyed baking them. Part of that is because I firmly believe in the Biblical principle laid out very clearly in 1 Timothy 5:18 "For the Scripture says,' YOU SHALL NOT MUZZLE THE OX WHILE HE IS THRESHING', and 'THE LABORER IS WORTHY OF HIS WAGES.'" In other words, the dough might have yielded one or two more cookies than it did if I'd had tape across my mouth. You catch my drift?


Well, I need to sign off for now, but I will continue later.

Now for Everything Else

O.K., having done 3 posts in a row about our continuing Ant War (and I must say, I would definitely choose ants over cockroaches any day, even if they are extremely annoying), now it is time for Everything Else.

Let's start with my beautiful niece, who will be eight weeks old tomorrow. Don't the bottom 2 look like she's a lot older? Apparently she's already a ham! :-)


Taking a snooze on the couch...can somebody pull the hat up so I can see?!



Ariana's first piggyback ride...hold still, Daddy!


Aren't I just the cutest?!!


That sure was funny, Mommy!

Our Sign Language 1 class is finished -- we took our test last Wednesday, and our final assignment, an in-class dialogue between two partners (completely in sign, of course) was finished on Monday. Cassandra and I wrote out our dialogue, which included me having a birthday, and her describing her upcoming wedding (just so's you know, my birthday isn't until next month, and there is no engagement anywhere in sight for her -- it was just what we came up with). It took a little over three minutes (it was supposed to be 3-5 min.) and we signed pretty smoothly, I think, especially for having written and memorized in a week's time. I just found out this morning -- thank You, Lord, I got an A! Yay! I thought I probably would, since I've been consistently getting A's, with one B, on my tests. So, now I'm trying to get into the Sign 2 class being taught by the same instructor. Easier said than done. It was completely full by the time I was allowed to register (there are special rules about K-12 students taking classes at the college). So now we wait and pray -- because I know that if the Lord wants me to take that class, He'll provide an opening and let me get in. And if not...then I wait out the semester (the other Sign 2 class is too late at night for our family schedule) and try again later.

There's still quite a bit left to say, but it will have to wait for the next post, since it is time for me to get going. I have a dermotologist (I don't think that's the correct spelling, but oh well) appointment in a few hours, and tonight is a Christmas potluck and play (I'm one of the 3 Marys -- I'll post more later). So I'll talk to y'all later.

They Struck Again! or, Ode to the Treat Bag

The ants. In the Treat Bag.

Yes, the very same short paper bag that has held a place of high honor in my eyes for many years. The one that could, almost magically, produce sweet things whenever Mom or Dad commanded. The one that has held many pieces of wonderful delicacies to delight my young taste buds. Over the years its volume dwindled, until all it contained were some old, gooey Jolly Ranchers, empty Pez containers, and maybe an old lemon drop or two. My, but those ants on the Jolly Ranchers sure were happy. I'm sure they died with smiles on their little ant faces.

We tracked their line up the cupboard and along the tops of the cupboards over the kitchen counter and stove. My mother had her secret weapons handy, especially Sponge, which came very much in handy for smushing and crushing the tiny bodies and wiping them away. It hurt some to throw away the old Treat Bag...I will always hold it in a position of high esteem in my memories...it will always be to me the Treat Bag, with capital letters...and someday I will bring it to life again for my own children, teaching them the value of delayed gratification, i.e., occasional treats, instead of demanded, taken-for-granted candy. And someday I will be the mother, bravely defending her home from the unwanted invaders, probably with the same weapons as my own mother.

And someday, ants will fear me...

Update on the Ant Invasion

Well, we won the first battle. And the second. And the third. And I think we will continue to win, as long as we maintain power over our secret weapons of mass destruction. Problem is, somebody forgot to tell the ants. They are convinced that a strategy that was defeated once will be victorious the second time...and the third...and so on. Dumb ants.

But one thing you can say for them -- they are persistant. And they must have quite a propoganda system working, because morale seems to be quite high among the troops. Either that or they're all kamikaze foot soldiers who know they will die and do so gladly for the sake of the Queen. Whatever.

At any rate, it is a major tactical error to assume that they will not try again on a front they were already defeated on. At least with most enemies, you can pretty much assume that a battlefield that they lost on will not be fought on again anytime soon. Ants have other ideas. Something along the lines of, if it didn't work before, it's sure to work this time. So they do their best, and bravely give their little ant lives. Man, if some human army got ahold of the same methods of training and brainwashing that these ants apparently have, well, Armegeddon here we come! They may not be very strong, nor invincible by any means, nor do they have great and fearsome weapons. But all of them willingly (and swiftly!) march down the little line, knowing that straight ahead lies either a great feast, or certain death...or perhaps both. And if one cupboard has been invaded, and they were defeated there, why not try again, either in that cupboard or in the one right next to them.

We are convinced that they are living in our walls. They must be. We have sprinkled ant powder around any place they were going in, or ever thought they might use to go in, but yet they come...endlessly long lines of them. So last night we get a delightful dinner on the couch while the cupboards air out from the Ant-B-Gone, and the contents of the cupboards repose on the kitchen table. Fun.

The Ants Go Marching 20 by 20 -- aaagh!!

We are in the middle of an ANT INVASION!! It began Sunday afternoon, but you might say it actually began much earlier than that. For some time now they have been sending out 'scouts', I guess, to decide whether or not it was worth the effort to invade. We killed most of the scouts, but I guess they decided they had a good strategy and that the risk of defeat was low. D-Day was Sunday, the landing was executed with perfect timing, and the unsuspecting family came home from church to find ourselves under siege.

The kitchen counters were covered, and the stove, and just about anything in sight that was not in some sort of closed container was being ravished by the Formicidae Hymenoptera forces. But they had underestimated the strength and cunning of the adversary. My mother, a skilled and experienced strategist herself, used her secret weapons of mass destruction, one called Sponge, which crushes and wipes away the invading forces, and one called Ant-B-Gone, which could come under the category of biological warfare, since it is sprayed into the air and kills the ants instantly on contact. With these weapons she soon won this battle, having sprayed, crushed, wiped, and swabbed all ants in sight.

The ants are not very smart, though. Most countries, if they are up against such a formidable foe, and their armies are wiped out by the hundreds by this foe in the very first battle, will at least withdraw and try on a different front, or even completely give up and mind their own business. But not ants. We've been killing nearly every scout they've sent out between Sunday and now, but this morning we were alerted to a new battle when I took down the sugar canister to sprinkle some on my breakfast grapefruit. The ants had developed a new strategy, one that was essentially composed of the idea 'out of sight, out of mind'. In other words, instead of being out in the open, they were inside a cupboard, swarming over it and the things in it. But, once again, they underestimated their opponent, and my mother and her secret weapons triumphed once again.

December Devotional

The One Thing: A Christmas Devotion
by Mary Comm

I love the Christmas season. The cheerful music, the blinking lights, the brightly colored decorations, the cooler weather. I love the smell of the Christmas trees and the smell in the air. It's different this time of year. I love shopping for gifts for people who are special to me. I love watching my son, who's almost 4 now, as he begins to experience the wonder of Christmas. I love seeing the light in his eyes and hearing the excitement in his voice as he takes in all the sights and sounds around him. And I try to remember what it was like to be a child at Christmas, experiencing it with all it's magic-and without all the hassles and responsibilities and concerns that go along with being an adult at this hectic time of year.

Those childhood memories are vague. But seeing Christmas through the eyes of my child helps bring them into focus.

Even so, it seems to get harder every year to findthe real meaning of Christmas. And perhaps it's different for everyone... I mean Christ is the central figure of Christmas, but what does the celebration of His birth mean to you? Is it the sacrifice He made for us, or is it the life He gives us that makes Christmas special? Is it the miraculous way He came into this world or the reason He came into this world that brings significance to the season for you?

Christmas means many different things to everyone, but all I wanted-or needed-was one thing-one thing I could cling to to bring significance to this holiday season.

As I was lying in bed one night, I realized I'd never had even "one thing" that made this season really special before. Christmas had bever really been personal to me before. It was always what it was "supposed" to be-the celebration of Christ's birth. Period. And I've always felt like Christmas was a little like my Grandmother's birthday. She's had 93 of them, so what's the big deal about it any more? She would tell you after all these years her birthday had lost a lot of it's special-ness. It's become a day just like any other. Sure, she goes through the motions, she opens her gifts and blows out her candles, but the excitement is gone. And what's worse is the memory that this used to be such a special day along with the lack of significance it now has, has made her birthday even more hollow and empty. And that's kind of how I've been feeling about Christmas.

But as I was lying in bed this particular night, I was telling God how I've been feeling and I began asking Him a lot of questions. After I'd asked my last question I realized He was speaking to my heart-you know, in that still small voice that, although it's not audible, it leaves an indelible impression nonetheless. It was though He was saying to me, "'Mary, the one thing is you and Me."

Instantly I knew what He meant. As with everything else in the Christian life, it's not about ritual or tradition or even about what Christ did for us. It's about where I stand with him now, today, right this minute. It's about our relationship. It's about walking with Him daily, turning to Him in every situation, trusting Him with all my cares and burderns and concerns. It's about making Him the priority in my life, day by day, moment by moment.

And then it occured to me. My relationship with God is more important than anything. More important than my husband, my son, or my daughter. I suppose I've always known via head-knowledge that was the way it was supposed to be, but in that brief moment with God, there alone in my bedroom, I realized it in my heart, even to the very core of my being. Once it was lip-service, but at that moment it was so tangible I felt I could reach out and touch it.

I also realized I'd been so overwhelmed trying to take care of my family, our house, and other responsibilities that I have neglected my relationship with my Lord. Although it's been a priority to spend time with God and to work on our relationship, it just hadn't seemed possible to fit it into my already overcrowded schedule. How could I hope to spend time daily with Him (who I can't see) when I couldn't even seem to take care of those whom I can see? But there, in His presence, He spoke the answer to my heart and it seemed as though it was the most logical thing in the world. "Make Me your top priority and all the other priorities will be taken care of as a result."

That night I found my "one thing." And I commit to you now that this holiday season I will hold on to my "one thing." I will hold on to the gift God personally gave me that night-a personal encounter with Him during which He, by virtue of His Holy Spirit, gave me a tangible picture of what Christmas is really supposed to be for me. It's a time to put things in perspective, to get my priorities straight, and to focus my time and energy on drawing closer to God. Nothing is more important. In fact, it's so important that He gave His only Son over to death on a cross so that I would be able to draw close to Him.

I challenge and encourage you in the midst of the hustle and bustle of this holiday season to take a quiet moment to ask God what your "one thing" is for this Christmas season. I guarantee you if you ask Him with all your heart, He will answer you. For He says in His Word, "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." (Jeremiah 29:13)
Merry Christmas!

Copyright © 1995 Mary Comm.