If you don't get anything else out of this . . .

My preacher has two sentences he often uses in sermons.

The first is, "Shake your head yes, no, or maybe, it'll go faster" after asking a question of the audience. 

The second is, "If you don't get anything else out of this sermon today, I want you to get this."

The first sentence usually gets a chuckle out of me. 

The second sentence, to me, is a signal to "listen up!" because I'm about to hear a main point.

Has this been any other year, last night we would have had our Christmas Eve service.  We would have sung along with our praise team, listened to our preacher's take on Christmas, and then ended with a rendition of "Silent Night" as each congregation member held a lit candle.  

2020 has not been any other year.

I had wondered if we would do an in-person Christmas Eve service this year, and a couple of weeks ago, I got my answer:  No. Instead, we would do a virtual service, as we did for so many months this year, from March until November (and as we still offer for those who don't feel comfortable or safe coming to an in-person service right now.)  

When the plans for the virtual service were announced, we were told, don't worry, we are still going to do our candles!  

So last night, Christmas Eve, at 5 p.m., with the rain falling outside mixed with either a bit of sleet or snow and the temperature hovering in the 30's, we pulled up our chairs to our dining room table, in front of my PC, and we watched as, thanks to the talents of our tech team and our praise team, and thanks to several families from our church, we listened as we celebrated Christmas in song and story.  

Members of our praise team, standing six feet apart, sang; members of our church (both kids and grownups) read portions of the Christmas story. 

And our preacher spoke. 

Since, for the past couple of years, Christmas has now become a debate about what Mary did or did not know, our preacher tackled the song "Mary, Did You Know?" and said that no, she didn't.  The angel Gabriel did tell her, "you will have a son and he will be the Messiah."  She knew that.  

She didn't know that she and her husband would have to flee for their lives, as refugees do today; that perhaps, when they returned to Nazareth, their family would probably be the subject of rumors and gossip ("Son of God? Really?"), and that she, herself, would wonder at least once if her eldest son was out of his mind.

She didn't know that a crowd that welcomed him with "Hosanna!" on Palm Sunday would scream "Crucify him!" mere days later. 

And she didn't know that death would not have the final word; that resurrection would.  

But, our preacher pointed out, Mary knew the faithfulness of God.  Mary was a Jewish girl who would have known of a prophesied Messiah.  She would have known the story of the Exodus, the story of Joshua, of David, of Solomon, of the exile to Babylon and the return home of the exiles.  

Over and over, she would have heard how God took care of his people. 

Mary may not have known the future, but she knew the past faithfulness of God . . . and although my preacher didn't say these words, I thought of the sentence, "If you don't get anything else out of this, get this."  

We have suffered through a long, difficult, weary year; a year of so much loss, so much suffering, so much anger, so much exhaustion, so much isolation. No one on earth has been unaffected. 

Personally, while I have lost no one to COVID, nor have I lost a job, I also have struggled this year with the effects of isolation, with the fallout of COVID and of the racial unrest in the US and the US presidential election and its aftermath.  I've adjusted to a spouse now working at home and dealt with a son doing digital learning through the computer.  I've asked questions about God, about faith, and I still have more questions than answers at times.

But I cannot get away from what Mary couldn't get away from, either:  That although neither of us know the future, we know the past faithfulness of God. 

God has not always done what I want Him to do when I want Him to do it. I don't understand why he does not directly intervene to stop COVID, stop the evil of racism, open the eyes of people so that they can see truth, make it obvious who can be trusted and who cannot be. 

But I still believe that God is faithful. I still believe that God cares, that He became human for a time to show us that yes, He does love us; yes, He was willing to become one of us to tell us, yes, I suffered when I was tempted so I can help those who are being tempted. He was willing to die for our sins because He wanted a relationship with us.  

Last night, at the end of our service, we were told to get our candles and light them, while a recording of our praise team singing "Silent Night" played over videos of candles.  

My family took three candles and lit them. And we watched the computer screen as we sang "Silent Night", a homage to a virgin mother and child, a story of shepherds quaking and glories streaming, and of a Son of God that is "love's pure light".  

If you don't get anything else out of this, get this;

Even through a computer screen, in this year of masks and social distancing, of Zoom, of an increasing "us vs. them mentality" . . . there is a God who is still faithful, a God who still cares about his people, a God who loves them.  

Just as a young girl named Mary did, I count on my past experiences with God's faithfulness to believe that He will see me through an uncertain future.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

A bleak, colorful winter

I've been reading headlines predicting a bleak winter.  This is mainly due to COVID spikes and flu season coming upon us and the possibility of a "twindemic" of COVID and flu. 

A contentious election that some still want to contest isn't helping.

And election season is still not over in my state of Georgia, where voting will soon start for two Senate seats. My son recently said that the campaign ads were like a war.  He's not wrong. 

No one's mental health is good right now. 

I've thought about this "bleak winter" and I've come up with one antidote.

Color.

So recently, I fired the first shot in my one-woman war against this bleak winter.

I went to Walmart on Black Friday and bought an ugly Christmas sweater.

It's colorful, decorated with Christmasy decorations, and has a bunch of bells on it that jingle when you move.

Obnoxiously perfect, right?

Well, I think I will need to cut the bells off, because I want to wear this to church and constantly having bells jingle whenever you move is a little bit too obnoxious. 

2020 has been a long year.  It's been a bleak year. And winter is coming (nod to Game of Thrones).

One person may not be able to do much. But if I can bring some color to this bleak winter, I think it's a start.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

How Orkin did not steal Christmas

That headline is slightly unfair to Orkin.  My husband pointed out today that the timing of Orkin's visit could have been a lot worse.

Friday, I wrote this entry about how we got a nasty surprise from Orkin, telling us that we needed work on our crawlspace that was going to cost us a big chunk of change, and that I was going to get very creative on how we celebrated Christmas this year. 

I didn't expect the response I got.

Yesterday, a Facebook friend messaged me asking me what my email address was.

A minute late, I found a Walmart gift card resting in my email box.

When I messaged her back to tell her thank you, she said, "No one goes without Christmas on my watch." 

This morning at church, a man slipped money into my hand so that Matthew could have something for Christmas.  And later, Frank told me that someone had given him another Walmart gift card for Matthew as well.

So I dropped Frank at a nearby Barnes & Noble and trotted off to Walmart (while Matthew was helping out at our second service). 

Thanks to the generosity and kindness of people, this is what my tree looks like: 

I have another gift to finish for Matthew. 

Christmas would have come for us tomorrow, like it did for the residents of Whoville when the Grinch stole Christmas.  Christmas does come without ribbons, bows, and presents.

But Christmas also comes with kindness and generosity, and this was what we experienced this weekend.

Orkin may have "stolen" Christmas, but it was more than returned by others. 

I am grateful.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Tina's "Long Winter" Christmas

In the book The Long Winter, one of Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House" books, there's a scene where Ma tells the girls that Pa hasn't been able to get work for wages that year, so they can't spare money for presents.  But they could have a happy Christmas just the same.

Laura started thinking, and she realized that there were things she had that she could give as gifts:  a cardboard picture frame she'd been embroidering, a cardboard hair-receiver, some knitted lace.  So she did just that, and that was how the Ingalls family had a merry Christmas in the midst of a brutal winter.

Recently Frank and I had a visit from the Orkin man.  We have a termite bond with Orkin, and last year, during the termite inspection, the Orkin man said that we were having moisture problems in our crawlspace and we needed the crawlspace encapsulated. 

Well, we put off having it done . . . and then termite inspection time came around again.  The Orkin guy showed up at the house unexpectedly (in fairness, he'd called before and I had not returned the call) and Frank and I both happened to be home.  He discussed the different options with us, and we told him that we would let him know what he decided when he came back the next day to do the termite inspection.

What I think he really wanted was for us to do a full encapsulation for over $6000.  Instead, we decided to have a moisture barrier put down and the wood treated for about $2600.

What this all boils down to is that we got hit with a big chunk of change we didn't expect, and as a result, Christmas would be very skimpy.

When Frank told Matthew that we had had to spend money on Orkin and that, as a result, we wouldn't have presents under the tree, I thought, "Not if I can help it."

Thus, Project "Long Winter" was born.

You see, while I have the ingenuity and the creativity that Laura Ingalls had, I also have a resource she did not:  the local dollar store.

The other night, Matthew asked me if we weren't going to have any presents at all, and I said, "No, we're just not going to buy presents this year."  Then I told him that I was going to show him how we could have Christmas without spending a lot of money. 

Yesterday, we went to Dollar Tree, where I bought five tins for a dollar each.  Then, we went to Food Depot and bought six boxes of butter (each box containing four quarters of butter) and two and a half dozen eggs.  (The butter and margarine was being restocked while I was there, and while the big boxes of eggs were still there, the boxes of eggs packed by the dozen were GONE.)

Today, I plan to make brownies and cookies.  Two of the tins I bought will be packed with brownies and cookies.  That will be Frank's gift. 

One of the tins will be packed with a (used) power pack and a couple of (probably new or maybe used) charger for Matthew's phone. 

I will also make him a blue and white hat so he can wear it while watching Doctor Who. 

This year, the fates conspired to ruin Christmas.

What the fates did not take into account was that they were dealing with me.

Merry Christmas.

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.

Happy birthday, Jesus . . .

Luke 2:1-20

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.  (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.)  And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

 And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.  And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.  And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.  But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

"That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."

Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.