When Your Children Hurt

By Gina Stinson

My seven year old has extreme stage fright. She takes after her mother. Recently, after practicing for four months on a Christmas musical, purchasing the traditional formal attire for such an event, and spending some extra time getting ready, she almost didn’t make it up on stage. As the children filed in to step onto the stage, I noticed her usually light complexion was a rosy shade of pink. At first I thought, she is just a little flushed. Then I saw the look that accompanied the blush. She was frightened out of her mind. Tears were streaming down her face. She wanted her mommy. She was scared!

I tried to encourage her to go ahead and get on the stage with the other forty children. She reluctantly continued up the steps. When she got into place she was still sobbing and looked like a frightened kitten. For a couple of moments, I wanted to step in and rescue her, make it all better, let her step out of the program, but rational thinking got the best of me and I decided to wait a few minutes and see if she could regain composure. And then it happened.

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The Smells of Christmas

By Gina Stinson

Gingerbread, pumpkin pie, apple cider, roasted turkey, fresh breads, and homemade cookies are the smells of the season in my kitchen.

Last Christmas Eve, we were busy getting things ready for Santa’s arrival…reindeer food, cookies, peppermint stick, and milk. We wrapped last minute gifts, made an emergency trip to the local store, and tried to keep the kids under control. It was hurried and crazy but at four in the afternoon things took a turn. We left for church.

Focusing on the true meaning of Christmas had a calming affect. We enjoyed fellowship, music, and communion with our church family and returned home to welcome more friends for Christmas Eve finger foods.

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24

By Gina Stinson

My last 24 hours have been CRAZY! My friend from out of town came to stay with us for two days while in the area working. While here, she had a horrible reaction to some medication she is on and we ended up spending four hours in the ER. When I got home, my son, who had been sick for three days, was worse than ever—fever, vomiting, coughing, stuffy nose…YUCK! We had a pretty sleepless night.

Isn’t it funny how much can change in 24 short hours? The house was clean, we had company over, we were talking about a staff dinner we were to host that night, and we were making PLANS. Needless to say….all those plans…and the clean house changed pretty quickly.

Somehow, in the chaos that transpired, I imagined how it must have been 24 hours before Christ was born. My mind had been dwelling on the nativity story lately so I pondered there for a while. What was Mary thinking? Knowing the Savior of the World was on His way in just hours. What about Joseph? Do you think he felt the weight most fathers feel when they are about to become a parent? I also thought about Mary’s parents. How do you think they felt knowing their daughter was soon to deliver and was heading out of town? (I know my mom wouldn’t have been happy!)

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The Elf Is Watching…

By Gina Stinson

Every year about this time a small little stuffed creature arrives at our home—Elf. Elf is a friendly little guy who is responsible for reporting back to Santa about the behavior of my kids. He’s Santa’s helper.

It’s convenient. Elf shows up and my parental instructions are more readily obeyed and my kids actually move more quickly and with a little more excitement when routine chores are accomplished. It’s hilarious. I giggle to myself as I watch.

Eagerness to please, quick response times, and such remarkable devotion to a stuffed animal that only comes around three months of the year is cute…and understandable for little children. Adults would be ridiculous to act that way. But in a world where materialism, money, and employment are valued above character, morals, and values, we might need to take a second look into the Elf’s mirror. Who are we trying to please?

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The Loudest Sermon

By Gina Stinson

Growing up, I had a friend who came from a large family. Becky’s dad was a part-time preacher and carpet layer. They struggled to make ends meet. It was sometime in the 1980’s when I saw my dad do something I will never forget, the kind of thing that makes you look at your parents in a different, more respectful light.

It was Christmastime. We were at church when I saw my dad walk up to Becky’s dad, say a few words in greeting, and hand him a bundle of money. It was exchanged during a handshake. I saw Becky’s dad’s eyes well up with tears and I watched two men embrace in a strong, manly way I will never forget.

What my dad did was put feet to action. He saw a need and did something about it. I also saw the response of a grown man wanting to care for his family. Seeing hope and gratitude in his eyes jumpstarted me to action. I learned you don’t have to have a lot to do a lot. My family didn’t have money to throw away. There were three kids and my uncle and my parents living in a modest home with one income, yet God placed a burden on my dad’s heart to help meet the needs of others. Other than me, I doubt anyone else besides my mom saw what happened that day at church, but it was one of the loudest sermons ever preached to me in church.

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