The tingling of Jingle Bells heard on the streets, Hurried, stressed, shopping, Goose, turkey, deer, lamb or fish on the table, That bring indigestion, Overeating that deadens the guilty pull of our consciences, Blinding us to the fact that over half the world is starving. We get up from our tables, With our plates still full of what we did not eat.
Christmas, The celebration that has been taken over by our arrogance Has been willfully dissected down to a small dot over the i to meet our emotional needs for belonging.
Our demands are for autonomy that separates us from the Creator who made us, demanding recognition as self-made men and women.
The virgin birth quietly disdained.
The God-Man ridiculed for such an unpopular entrance.
Unbelievable, we say.
His birth abhorred. The Savior downgraded.
Christmas,
It’s about humiliation, Believing in the virgin birth of the God-Man who upset the world.
Time changed from Before Christ to Anno Domini And Salvation, That dirty word that people seldom hear,
But when heard too often denied, Opened the door to righteousness for all.
Though rejected by many, Love prevails. Not in the gifts bought in department stores, Not in the glamour of cosmetics, jewelry, or face-lifts, Not in diamonds, silver, or gold,
Not in bonds, securities, puts, or calls,
Not in Christmas trees or cradles, Not in boats, cars, planes, or trains, That transport us away from the diffusion of our congregated confusion.
Christmas exists,
Because God took it upon himself to offer up the One sacrifice that would save us all.
Now Heaven’s gates are opened to all who believe.
That’s Christmas.
For God so loved the World that He gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16, The New International Version 1984 (NIV), Zondervan
Merry Christmas everyone,
Joyeux Noël à tous
Fröhliche Weihnachten an alle, Buon Natale a tutti
Her hunger to experience all that life had to offer,
Prevailed and seeped into all she was.
Thus,
The anger,
The sadness,
The disappointment,
The doubts,
Raged through her body when told her number one enemy had returned.
It shocked her.
She was caught on her blindside.
A slow process began.
Days ran into weeks,
Weeks into months.
Her indomitable spirit,
Strengthened daily by faith overcame her darkness,
And her fighter’s heart dived into the Word of God to find her reality.
That was our Moni.
That Partner and I were chosen to walk with her was no coincidence.
God doesn’t create coincidences.
He creates facts.
Neither of us knew where the journey would lead.
A time frame wasn’t given.
We didn’t even have a road map.
But that’s nothing new.
Moses didn’t have a roadmap either.
So, like many people who have gone on before us,
We did the most reliable thing.
We prayed and sought God daily,
Sometimes every hour throughout the day and night,
As we accompanied her through every danger that came her way,
And we did whatever the responsibility called for
No matter the cost of time and effort or whatever,
Because of our Moni.
Oh how joyful it was to see her eyes light up,
When the praise team arrived.
For four weeks she held church in her hospital room.
And invited the nurses and patients to join her.
Some did.
Others,
Marveled at her faith,
Her hope,
Her undying love for the God she served.
That was our Moni.
Partner soon became the medical doctor,
Researching, inquiring, asking the right questions,
And organizing.
Prayers went upward,
Praise too.
The heavenly throne was inundated with petitions,
And our Moni began to change,
Day by day,
Step by step,
Hour by hour,
Minute by minute,
Second by second,
Right before our eyes.
What do you do when it seems hopeless?
Do you rob a person of the hope of Glory?
Partner and I said, NO.
We knew who had the last word.
And He hadn’t spoken.
So, we kept walking in faith,
Doing the right thing,
As we waited for Him.
The impregnable truth,
Of the invincible love that washes away every pain,
Like waves beating against piles of rocks,
Changed the three of us as we walked toward the crossroad:
The intersectional path of her meeting point.
We acted,
Reacted differently as when we had first begun the journey.
We discovered love in its purest form,
Respect independent of color,
And yes, joy in the simplicity of the small things.
They mattered,
And the tiny steps were always a reason to celebrate.
We knew that we knew,
All things are in His hand.
And Moni walked between us and became our Little Sister,
Used by God to show us,
His grace,
His Mercy,
And to teach us how to love.
Moni,
The Bass player,
Playing as a member in her church band,
And in the orchestra, she belonged too.
Moni,
The hospitality Queen
Who opened her home to all.
Moni,
A true friend to her girlfriends, and her colleagues,
Moni,
A loving daughter to her parents,
Moni,
Who fearlessly traveled the globe,
Moni,
Who loved to attend the Meer Conference in January of every year,
Moni,
A loyal and faithful woman in the C3 Church family,
Moni,
The woman who loved freely,
Who made mistakes and wasn’t afraid to say I’m sorry.
Who made every chemo day a vacation day,
Where either Partner or I would sit afterward in Vaipiano’s and watch her eat like a bear.
Our Moni,
Ended her journey at six-thirty after the sun had risen,
Suddenly.
No one expected that to be the day.
The curtain opened,
And she walked over into eternity,
To participate and rejoice in the Welcome Home festivities,
Given in her honor,
As a child of the living God.
This was our Little Sister,
Monika Gutmann Fuhr.
8 February 1974 – 15 May 2017
Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Romans 5:1-2, New King James Version.
Good things for an individual are born out of the vision the person holds steady before his or her inner eyes. The person comprehends, as he or she examines what it will take to fulfill the vision that it is made up of building blocks. Each building block has to be mastered, which means learning, changing, expanding, and shaping, one step at a time. I believe that is why God said, “Don’t belittle the small steps.” Small steps, equivalent to building blocks, are vital to moving forward toward the vision and maintaining the momentum.
Friday evening, I received the hard copies of one of my small steps.
Still Me…After All These Years by Karen Helene Walker is an Anthology in which twenty-four writers Reflect on Aging.
I am elated to be one of those authors.
Still Me…After All These Years is available in print and as e-book at Amazon, Kobo, Smashwords and other bookstores.
This was a day when the sun was shining brightly. I stopped my car to take a picture. It made me think of God’s faithfulness. The sun is not too far and not too near. It is just the right distance to bring us joy.
I have been extremely busy helping with the release of the anthology, Still Me…After All These Years. It will be launched Monday, March 20th and I am privileged to have my first piece of non-fiction in that anthology.
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