As per my English Tradition, upbringing and choice, I send out Christmas cards every year. Being a crafter and all that, I make them. I find no burden in this and they are usually my first and most important to-do. I send alot and the postal service are picky about lumpy things so they are usually simple and have a little update about my family since most people getting them don't see us regularly. I like to receive them too so please do send me one :)
Anyway, I just got news from my Mum that a family member of mine called her to complain quite zealously (I'm being polite, he was not) about how disgusting and offensive it was to him that I had send him a Christmas card with all the mumbo jumbo BS of religious..beep beep beep etc. you get my drift. My first thought was to laugh, I'm not shocked since he's been this kind of "unhappy" his whole life but I did stop and think for a moment, what might be offensive in my card. *A photo of my family, together, laughing (I do have black fingernails, offensive?) *I did report that my family is happy and healthy, employed and safe (offensive?) *I have a son, dedicating 2 years of his life to serve others (offensive?) *That I have gratitude for things like, scouts, education, good memories (?) but no, I'm pretty sure it was my reference to Quote"me being grateful for this time of year, to reflect on my Saviors birth and all that my family is blessed with"
Instead of him being grateful that one of his, only 2 nieces (and 2 nephews )had taken the time to send him well wishes, he took it upon himself to upset my Mum by berating her over the phone for my disgusting behavior.
Well I won't apologize, I celebrate with a conscious effort to remember my Savior in ALL my days but especially at this time of year.
I heard this poem and wanted to share.
‘Twas the night Jesus came and all through the house,
not a person was praying, not one in the house.
The Bible was left on the shelf without care,
for no one thought Jesus would come there.
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
not once ever kneeling or bowing their head.
And Mom in the rocking chair with babe on her lap,
was watching the Late Show as I took a nap.
When out of the east there rose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutters and lifted the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but Angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
The light of His face made me cover my head.
Was Jesus returning just like He had said?
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.
In the Book of Life which He held in His hand,
was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name.
When He said “It’s not here,” my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written with love,
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready He rose without sound,
while all of the others were left standing around.
I fell to my knees but it was too late,
I’d waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight,
Oh if only I’d known that this was the night.
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear.
The coming of Jesus is now drawing near.
There’s only one life and when comes the last call,