Pointing Fingers

By Cheri Cowell

Have you ever spent time with someone who finds fault with everything and everyone? These people drain us. It’s easy if we just chime in, but tiring if we’re working hard not to join them. While walking by someone dressed inappropriately a negative comment slips, then the conversation quickly turns to the loose morals of society and how our mother never would have let us out of the house dressed that way. How easily we use our superior yardstick to judge others.

In Jesus’ day, the religious leaders were the keepers of the moral codes, and thus arbiters of who was acceptable to God. If anyone had studied the codes they would have discovered no one followed them and thus no one deserved acceptance. In order to cover this weakness, the elite created more difficult-to-track rules. Following rules—and pointing fingers when they were broken—consumed them.

Jesus came along and said, “I am setting up a new kingdom with a new way.” He knew we couldn’t keep all the rules, and that keeping rules was not the point. He wanted us to simply love others as we have been loved, and to give grace as we’ve been given grace. That doesn’t leave us much room for pointing fingers, does it?

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Fake Prayer and Real Prayer

By Peter Lundell

Jesus would have had a great time with this one: a website offers to have a computer with text-to-speech capability say your prayers for you, so you don’t have to. They “voice each prayer at a volume and speed equivalent to a typical person praying. Each prayer is voiced individually, with the name of the subscriber displayed on screen.” You may choose from Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, or Unaffiliated prayers. For Muslim prayers they even face the speakers toward Mecca. Isn’t that thoughtful?

Don’t laugh; these guys are serious—about making money at least. I clicked on “Protestant” and found I could have a computer say the Lord’s Prayer for me each day for only $3.95 a month. Or I could choose prayers for peace, health, financial help, my children, or get a package deal. Catholics pay 7 cents for each Hail Mary. That adds up, you know.

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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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Christmas Card Friendships

By Kathy Willis

Today I worked on writing notes in Christmas cards for our Sunday school class. Each one gets a special note, so it takes a while. I took a break and went to the mailbox to look for season’s greetings from my loved ones. If I’m being honest, I divide these greetings into 4 categories.

#1-Cards with preprinted names.

#2-Cards with signed names.

#3-Form letter looking back over the year.

#4-A personal note from the sender.

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Keeping What We Have

By Virginia Smith

I recently attended my first “anonymous” meeting to support someone I care about. Never having been involved with a twelve-step program, I was a little intimidated, as was the person I went to support. Though I never realized it, my unconscious attitude toward difficult personal struggles has been “pray for strength, but suffer in silence.” This meeting blew that attitude out of the water.

Eighteen people gathered around a table and talked openly about their addiction. They told how their lives had been destroyed, how their disease took over every waking minute and every ounce of attention. It became the focus of their existence. They spoke of losing jobs and homes and families, of bankruptcies and suicide attempts. I was impressed over and over by how transparent these people were. They held nothing back. Their words were stark, often harsh, and the pictures they painted made me want to weep.

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