Christmas 2009 at OneTrueMedia.com

Welcome to our family Christmas...
Christmas with R.'s family ... then Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning (featuring the joint Birthday gift for Ab and AA - a restored go-kart)...and finally, closing out with a somewhat louder Christmas with my family....
Meanwhile we are enjoy some holiday downtime. Talk more later!!

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Still

It's not picture-perfect, there are probably countless little pieces left undone.

Maybe hundreds of little surprises I might have planned; Kind words and wished I have left unsaid.

But it's done.

Christmas - the only holiday with a built-in deadline - is here. It arrived just a few moments ago.

The cat and I are the only ones up, though I have two kids that have tossed and turned and fretted about going to sleep . . . Ab may still be awake at this moment.

The gifts are awaiting them under the tree which still stands as a twinkling sentinel in the corner.

And for this moment it is . . . still.

Before fatigue takes over, perhaps I will be able to contemplate the season.

Still.

Do you remember when you first brought that newborn baby home and they finally drifted off to sleep? How quietly they lay. How peaceful.
Do you remember that tiny smacking of lips?

If you were like me, you were mesmerized by that little miracle.

Now imagine the same situation in an entirely different setting than your bedroom or nursery.

Imagine the Christ Child asleep in tightly swaddled cloths, protected from the cool night breezes by the sides of the feed trough in which He sleeps.

While I believe Jesus was both man and God and therefore He presented the typical problems a newborn ... diapers, crying, etc. - I believe there was some point that first night in which He was. . .

. . . still . . .

And perhaps Mary used those small snatches of time to unpack those thoughts she "pondered in her heart".

Stillness: it is God's occasional gift to us that allows us to process the significance of all the events around us.

.... the message of a Christmas Eve service - to join the Song of Redemption and take the light of Jesus Christ that is within us, to a dark world . . .

...the stories that have been shared during recent gatherings - which ones should be passed on to our children....

....the quiet cries for help from people too proud to ask . . .

. . . the seemingly insignificant remarks of my children . . . remarks that may need to be explored as I get to know them better ...

...the love of God that is proclaimed in so many songs in so many places during this wonderful season. . .

...the question of how I will pursue the purpose God has determined for me; and how will I lead my family to boldly do likewise?....

These are things worth pondering as Christmas comes and I am ....


....still ....

The Christmas Train

I like trains.

I like Christmas.

For a number of years the idea of trains and Christmas seemed to go together.

It has often been tradition for a boy to receive a train for Christmas. I think I was the happy recipient of a couple during my childhood.

R. and I had a memorable dinner cruise on a train on or around our fifth wedding anniversary (which falls on December 10th). It was cold and rainy outside which made us feel all warm and cozy as we sat at our table onboard. The route took us around Atlanta and we were occasionally surprised by the sights of beautifully lit houses out the window.

That's why the illustration of a Christmas Train seemed quite appropriate this morning when a thought process was triggered by my Sunday School teacher. He had confessed that because his life's work is in education, there is a slow down during the holidays and it is - for him - a natural time to reflect on his spiritual state. This prompted some conversation from others in the class about their view of the Christmas season as it relates to their emotions and view of God.

As we moved into the morning worship service my mind began to wander a little as I searched for something to symbolize the season for me so far. I arrived at the thought of a Christmas Train.

This Christmas Season - and probably most of the recent ones for me - have been like standing near a railroad track and watching a train go past.

The seasons are always met with tremendous anticipation and it seems as if there is always plenty of time to prepare.

Then suddenly the huge locomotive roars by.

Then each event of the season flies past me like so many open rail cars. I try to enjoy each event while also anticipating and planning for those upcoming rail cars.

In some instances, the train slows down and I can walk along with the current rail car and earnestly drink in the significance of the event; at other times, I can scarcely take in all the contents of the rail car before it has sped past and another event is already occurring.

One rail car may be a cold and rainy Sunday afternoon spent by the fire and a well-lighted Christmas tree, sipping hot cider and singing carols or traveling down memory's path through the gateway of old photos.

Another fast moving rail car may be filled with preparations for a Christmas party - there are babysitters to confirm, dishes to prepare, gifts to purchase, last minute phone calls, schedules to rearrange, quick trips back to the grocery store to pick that "one forgotten ingredient" and then directions to follow, smiles and pleasantries to exchange.

One rail car for us was a perfectly Christmassy morning during the week, when R. and I took some time off from work to attend the Winter Arts Festival at our kids' school. Despite the politically-correct-sounding name it was a wonderful experience and helped to bring the Reason for our celebration back into clear focus.

Other rail cars passed us by leaving very little of the impression we had hoped for: rushed lightings of the Advent Candles after getting started too late for a school night; events in which we tried to be too many places within too short an expanse of time; even some home events that were forced and filled with manufactured sentimentality ... mostly because this dad adopted the Griswaldian attitude of "we'll enjoy this Christmas family tradition if it kills us!"

This weekend the train slowed to the point that a person could actually jump aboard and ride for awhile, soaking in the sights, sounds, tastes and joys of Christmas, as we enjoyed family time with R.'s family.

There was music and singing, eating, laughter, more eating, clearing away of dishes and talk of still more eating, presents, and a very special few moments when R.'s dad talked about his family.

On that night, after supper we had a small program with Ab and AA playing a piece or two on the piano and guitar, R. played a Jim Brickman number on the piano, our sister-in-law and two nieces sang, Grandmother and the two boys played the ukulele and guitars (AA and I joined, trying to keep up). Then I read the Christmas Story from the Gospel of Luke.

Papa then talked from his heart. Explaining about his family and how he was raised, he talked about his parents and how no one seemed to know how they met or became a couple.

He went on to say he wanted to be sure that those questions were settled for his family. Then he told the story of how that relationship of 57 years came to be... how the 16 year old boy driving an ice truck was smitten by the sight of that auburn-haired girl on the corner of Maple and 15th street. He went on to talk about their humble beginnings and how they were married at the tender ages of 17 and 16.

It was a special rail car and one I did not hasten to leave.

In the blur of cars speeding past me, I hope I have given sufficient attention to the things that matter most.

As we go into this last week before Christmas we expect something of a lull to ensue and perhaps we will be able to truly evaluate our spiritual state as it relates to this season.

In the meantime, I am conscious of the fact that the caboose is rounding the bend just ahead of us and the season will soon be a distant memory with only some cold iron tracks and a mournful whistle-blow to remind me of what has been.

Rustic Christmas 2009 at OneTrueMedia.com

It began as a comprise between the very practical R. and Ab - who felt that "buying" a tree and then throwing it away would be unwise; and AA and I who felt that Christmas should be celebrated with extreme zest!
R. suggested we get one like my Granny and Pop's trees - scrub cedars decorated with the big lights. I jumped at the idea.

We found it in the woods near our house. It truly was a "Charlie Brown Tree" ... and still is.
I had 3 Christmas tree stands and went through all three and about 2 additional feet of tree before I was able to get the tree to stand in the house.
Then a day or so later - it fell.

More repairs were performed (don't ask) and eventually we had the old fashioned tree I have often told the kids about.

I think there are some things we will remember about the experience - but I don't think it is one I will be quick to repeat.

Enjoy the pics and Merry Christmas!!

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

A Rude Awakening at an Office Party

I was taken aback! I dare say I was appalled!

Tonight I attended an office Christmas party after work. We gathered at a restaurant and someone had a game for us to play.

Now I need to remind you that having grown up in the Bible-belt and being firmly ensconced in a church setting most of my life - most of my acquaintance with party games were in that "church" setting. I don't really regret that, it's just that most of my experience with party games has been that type that worked more like a practical joke with one person being the "brunt" of the joke.

Therefore I approach party-games with a very healthy sense of caution.

This game was fairly benign. It was one of those ice-breakers that forces you into "safe" conversations. We were to each find people in the room whose life experiences matched the ones described on a paper we were given. It was things like "Never saw a white Christmas" or "Re-gifted a Christmas gift last year".

Somewhere on that page, among those "safe" conversation starters lurked a hideous truth that I was not prepared to face.

It was a small group - less that twenty people. People that I work with every day - people I thought I knew pretty well.

One of the items on the page was the statement: "Has never seen 'It's a Wonderful Life!'"

As we were going over the responses as a group - someone polled the entire group...

Probably over one-third of that group had never seen "It's a Wonderful Life!". I could not believe it! And I couldn't believe they were so freely admitting it in that public forum.

No wonder our country is in the shape it's in when 33%+ of a random sample of fairly intelligent people had never seen the icon of holiday sentimentalism.

When I protested and expressed my disappointment in blustering terms - they just blew off my words as if it were no large concern.

"It's a Wonderful Life!" is - in my opinion - THE best holiday movie ever made. And it is right up there with "Casablanca" as possibly the best movie of all time.

The watching of this movie is almost a sacred rite that is observed with great care in our home each Christmas season.

It is typically the movie that I reserve for the week of Christmas to watch. I like to build up to it. We may start the season with "National Lampoon's: Christmas Vacation" or "A Christmas Story" or some other newer movie of little significance. As the season progresses we move to more solid Christmas fare like "Christmas in Connecticut", "White Christmas" and "Holiday Inn". Cary Grant's "The Bishop's Wife" and even it's less-than-two-decades-old counterpart - "The Preacher's Wife" might follow.

Finally, it is time for the main event. Some years, R. and I have saved it until Christmas Eve.

I do not believe I have missed a viewing of this movie more that two or three Christmases in the past 25 years.

When I first discovered this Frank Capra classic, I would catch bits and pieces of the movie - usually on Christmas Day.

I remember when I was struggling in the field of sales and felt the weight and pressure of poor performance - I could relate to George Bailey as he came home late night after night, trying to bear up under the pressure "Potter" was putting on him.

As I waived good-bye to my teenage years and moved fully into adulthood ... being a hopeless romantic ... I longed for love. I envied George Bailey whose heart was smitten by the faithful and loving Mary.

When I had finally broken free from the bondage of misspent career choices and had moved into the "bliss" of entrepreneurial enterprise - I empathized with George again as it looked like his business and all he had worked for was going away.

This movie has always had something for me.

Jimmy Stewart may not have been that great of an actor - but because of his "everyman" style - he always moves me; and he's my favorite.

Frank Capra, the movies' director, had a life changing experience in which he felt that God had challenged him to really say something worthwhile with his movies. So his movie trademarks are things like humor, large groups of family and friends, patriotism, a love for one's fellow man, and always a hopeful and happy ending.

That's why despite what many will call cheesy sentimentalism, this movie has a message. It's one of redemption, one of hope and an encouragement to those who have held fast to the challenge before them.

It is great wisdom couched in innocence.

You owe it to yourself to really stop for a couple of hours and soak in this movie.

And like George Bailey, you might find yourself looking back over this gift of adventure your life has been so far... and you could walk away thinking that it really has been a wonderful life.

Troubled Times: Two Responses

Startled and Gripped with Fear

How about you - is that what the holidays mean to you?


A reading of the original Christmas story reveals that there was a whole lotta' shakin' goin' on.

In fact one of the characters was said to have been "startled and gripped with fear".

We are pretty comfortable with angels. We see them everywhere, especially this time of year. And not too long ago, angels were sort of a fad: there were television shows and movies centered around angels, stickers, mugs, posters, greeting cards ... you could find angels most anywhere and they were generally considered to be a "good thing".

Apparently the angels of the first Christmas story were quite different from those floating around on your Christmas tree right now. The accounts in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke tend to leave us with the impression that angels were - well - scary.


Each time they appeared folks were afraid, or "troubled" or "sore afraid!"


I am learning that oftentimes as people are about to launch into something big, they start out by being afraid. I don't know that it always happens that way - but at least it does sometimes.


What I really noticed this year as I began to focus on the Christmas story was the parallel between Mary and her uncle Zacharius.

Both were destined to be recipients of a miraculous birth - Mary, a virgin, would bear a child; Zacharius, an old man with an old wife, would father a child in his old age.

Both were visited by an angel (possibly the same angel, Gabriel) to be informed about their role in the upcoming saga.

And both were troubled.

But they each responded in a slightly different way: Zacharius' response was couched in doubt - "how can I be sure of this?". Granted his doubt was probably self-doubt - but doubt just the same.

Mary, on the other hand, gave a response that assumed that the angel's message was true ... " How will this be?". She never doubted that the Word sent from heaven was true - she just asked about the details.

As you may recall, Zacharius received a sign - probably not one that he would desire - he was struck "dumb" (incidentally, most parents of teenagers have suffered the same curse at least until their kids reach their mid-20's).

It is interesting to read the encounter, you can almost hear the clipped tones with which the angel tells him that he will be unable to speak until the child is born, because of his unbelief.

I find two applications here: One is that our initial response can make such a difference - may mine (and yours as well) always be like Mary's - a response couched in faith. Secondly, I notice that while Zacharius' unbelief buys him some difficulty for a time - it is not mentioned to him again.

You don't see the angel perching on his shoulder the rest of his life, whispering -"yeah - but do you remember that time you doubted?". The punishment was issued and the deed forgotten.

I love grace. I think I have misjudged it most of my life and underestimated it, but God gives it out so freely.

I hope you will thing a little differently about angels this season. I am going now to check out the countenance on some of the ones on my tree.

The Boy

It was a day not unlike today - gray and blustery - eight years ago when R. and went to the hospital for our appointment.

We had waited for nature to take its course, but it appeared that nature needed some help. We were going to have a baby - our second, R. was to be induced.

We had deposited our other angel - not quite three years old yet - with my sister the night before.

It was 2001, we were still in the shock of the 9-11 attack and troops were already in action defending our nation. I brought along the book I was reading at the time - Stephen Ambrose's, Band of Brothers. I remember that as I read about the 101st Airborne Division in the European Theatre, there was a news story on television about the same division sending paratroopers into Afghanistan.

We had chosen not to be told whether this one was a boy or a girl, but I think we both were pretty sure it would be a boy.

Around two o'clock that afternoon, little AA was plopped down under the "french fry" heat lamps as he lay there lethargically waiting for the next events to occur in his short life.

He reminded me of a Sumo wrestler, he was big and seemed to be three-fourths cheeks.

I was a little worried about him in those early days because he didn't seem very active. But he did fine.

That seems so long ago and far away now. His leading characteristic - those chubby little cheeks - have all but disappeared now with last summer's growth spurt.

His hair has gone from bald to "Fauntleroy" curls, then back to really short (almost bald once when Mom slipped with the barber tools) and finally now he is back to a curly mop.

He has an innocence and vulnerability about him that just tugs at my heart ... and gets him anything he wants from Mom.

He is quickly vying for the role of "family comedian" and will go to most any length to get a laugh.

He used to call me his "buddy-friend". My heart warmed each time he did.

He is easy going and wants to please others. I know that's a trait that will need to be tempered with balance as he gets older. I feel the weight of responsibility in being sure this boy grows to understand what it means to be a man. And not just a man but a godly man.

This week, I thought about Joseph and the huge responsibility he bore.

Joseph had to protect God for a time. He was the one that had the burden of packing up the little family and fleeing in the night from Bethlehem to Egypt.

From our vantage point it is obvious that God was going to watch out for them and would fulfill the purposes He had set for the young Child - but I am sure it wasn't so obvious to Joseph.

I'll try and remember that when I start to worry about how our kids will turn out.

For now, my job is to watch over them and to teach them the things that matter most. I guess those important matters are revealed in little every day lessons.

Happy Birthday AA, you truly live up to your name as a "light-bringer" by bringing the light of laughter to our home.

I love you, little man.