For the past few months I have been enjoying lighting a fragrance-laden candle while I have been at my desk working.  It is such a simple thing, but what a difference it makes.  Despite the fact that a day may be gloomy and a bit challenging in one way or another, just having that simple flame and the aroma that is produced seems to make the day a bit brighter and more enjoyable.  And that is the way that it is with us as well.  We may not consider ourselves to be very significant, but our seemingly small "flame" and "aroma" can be a tremendous blessing to someone with whom we share space  today.

Just an old book.  But one of my treasures is a very old book that dates back to 1823.  The author, unless he was very young (doubtful) was probably born around the time of the American revolution.That is a long time ago.  I have had it for about 50 years...and that seems like a long time.  Just by chance, I came across it as a teenager and "rescued" it from an old sheep barn.  It was in a pile of deteriorating materials in the hayloft.  The author....somebody that nobody would recognize today, was obviously impressed to write things that were on his heart. The author's life was extinguished a long time ago but his message lives on.  Perhaps not many are reading it, but it does live on.  I can't help but wonder, when we have drawn our final breath, what will we have done that will continue to give testimony to what was on our heart while we were living!

It was November 4, 1967 when my grandfather slipped out into eternity after many years of serving on the multigeneraltional family farm. To my recall, I doubt that he ever traveled more than 100 miles from the farm (his place of birth) but day in and day out faithfully took care of his family's needs by farming well!  But I do know this, he had a pretty neat device, the short-wave radio and also delivered faithfully to his door step was the National Geographic.  In fact, when the attic was being cleaned out after his death, he had just about every copy since its inception!  Later, another grandson (my brother) would travel as he served with Wycliffe Bible Translators to many of the regions that my grandfather only read about.  But somehow, my grandfather, being faithful in doing what he was called to do (providing faithfully for the needs of his family) was a part of that.  This Christmas, you may not be able to travel around to the needy parts of the world that need Jesus and His Word, but by being faithful in what He has called you to be and do, you have an investment in the lives who can go.

Considering What Is Truly Worthwhile

Flint chips were falling to the ground as the young father carefully shaped the rough piece of rock, using the skills that had been taught to him by his father.  For generations the art had been a pride of his people, knowing that the physical well-being of his family depended on the carefulness and pride he invested into the rock.  His people had occupied the Susquehanna River valley for hundreds of years, exploring the vast wealth of the region, along with hunting and fishing the area to provide for the basic needs of family living.  Children were playing as the rock took more and more the intended shape.  Their laughter could be heard above all the noise of busy people doing their tasks.  It was a busy and challenging time of the year, but as a matter of fact, every season was difficult and busy.  The leaves were beginning to fall and much had to be completed in order to prepare for the winter ahead.  Some of the crops were yet unattended to and preparations for the long winter ahead were not completed.  The young father was aware that his little children were content to play with the others while he worked, but still he couldn’t help but be frustrated at what little time he had to spend with them.  Obligations constantly had to be met, and he knew that there was only one who could meet these obligations—him.  He thought about the future.  Would it always be this way—the four seasons with all the foreboding tasks that each required?  He mused upon how little time he had had with his own father to do the ‘fun’ things.  The sun was setting in the west as he was completing the work on the rock.  It looked perfect.  He smiled as he put the rock in its finished form into its special place, ready for its usefulness on the morrow.  His wife was already preparing the children for a good night of sleep. 

            Another young man eyed the field as he finished another long trek across it.  It had been a busy season for him already.  Twenty-five more acres needed to be plowed and then he would have that task completed.  He looked back as the big diesel tractor easily plowed the black rich dirt that had been farmed by his family for generations.  He mused how technology had changed the way things had been done in doing the same task over the past 75 years.  His grandfather had plowed these same fields using a team of horses and a single bottom plow.  His father had used a gas tractor and a two bottom plow, but now his large diesel rig could pull a five bottom plow through the same dirt easily.  The change had not only been in machinery, but also in productivity.  His grandfather had a herd of 15 cows, his father a herd of 50, but now he could care for a herd of 100.  It seemed like a real advancement, but something strange kept gnawing at him.  Was life really any better after all, even with all of the new gadgets and technology?  There never seemed to be enough time for the needs of the family.  As he raised his plow out of the ground to make a turn in the field, his eyes focused on the beautiful Susquehanna, making its way toward the southwest in the same channel it has used for hundreds of years.  Had it always been that way—the squeeze between time and family?  Would it always be that way?  Something caught his eye, so he climbed down off the massive diesel tractor to investigate.  As he picked it up, wiping the dirt off the carefully shaped flint arrowhead, he imagined what life must have been like for the one whose hands had last touched it – the one who had created it to meet the needs of his family.  Not much could be found to show for a life invested 500 years earlier.  He thought within himself “Will my life show more?”  He mused as he continued to wipe cleaner and brighter the arrowhead, enjoying the silence without the big tractor running.  The Susquehanna could be heard quietly running its course.  Suddenly in the distance he could hear his 10 year-old son crying “Daddy!”  Looking up, he saw his little lad carrying a big grin and a fishing pole.  What had seemed important to him could wait, while he grabbed the hand of who was important and headed for the river.  “…you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

A hundred years ago (well, not quite that many years ago but it has been quite a while) I was a 19 year old student at this tiny new Christian college in Virginia (now Liberty Univeristy) and joining me on campus was this crazy funny guy named Mark Lowry. Back then, nobody knew who he was at first, but as the years went on Mark worked alongside the Gaithers and did some other pretty neat ministry service. And, along the way, he penned the now well-known song that we enjoy "Mary, Did You Know?" It was sung beautifully last night at the CSU concert. But I also simply love playing the Youtube video I have placed here....it is so impactful. May our worship extend way beyond Christmas and all the wonderful things that happened in Bethlehem so many years ago!

Mary, Did You Know?

The words of this hymn by Bessie Porter Head are so powerful:

“Stir me, oh stir me Lord, I care not how, But stir my heart in passion for the world. Stir me to give, to go, but most to pray. Stir until the blood-red banner be unfurled O'er lands that still in darkness lie O'er lands where no cross is lifted high. Stir me, oh, stir me, Lord, till all my heart
Is filled with strong compassion for lost souls
Till Thy compelling “must” drives me to pray, Till Thy constraining love reach to the poles. Far north and south, in burning deep desire. Till east and west are caught in love's great fire!Stir me, oh stir me Lord, till prayer is pain, Till prayer is joy, till prayer turns into praise. Stir me till heart and mind and will - yea, all Is wholly Thine to use through all the days.Stir till I learn to pray exceedingly
Stir me, oh, stir me, Lord! Thy heart was stirred By love's intensest fire, till Thou didst give Thine only Son, Thy best-beloved One, E'en to the dreadful cross, that I might live:Stir me to give myself so back to thee That Thou canst give Thyself again, -- through me. Stir me, oh, stir me, Lord! For I can see Thy glorious triumph day begin to break. The dawn already gilds the eastern sky. Oh church of Christ, arise! Awake! Awake! Oh, stir us, Lord, as heralds of that day! The night is past - our King is on His Way!”