Do you think God speaks to us in dreams? by Carol Ford

As I was reading the first and second chapter of Matthew today and I noticed how God spoke to Joseph and the wise men around the time of Jesus’ birth.

Matt 1: 20 ...behold an angel of the Lord, appeared to him in a dream, saying “Joseph, son of David do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”

Matt 2:13 ...an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt and remain there until I tell you....”

Matt 2: 19-20 “....behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel....”

To the wise men after their meeting with Herod.

Matt 2:13 And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.

Each of these dreams gave assurance and direction.

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I had a dream like that and I have wondered if it would seem strange to include it in my memoir. My dream happened at a time when I had been reading everything I could find about adoption reunions and searching online for additional information about my birth family. It was a strange, bizarre and emotionally disturbing dream.

In the dream, I was standing in the midst of a crowd of people and a large helmet with curled horns on the top was placed on the ground in front of us. The crowd was told that whoever put on the helmet would be destroyed—killed. No one moved. I felt compelled to step forward. I tentatively put on the helmet. My heart was pounding. But nothing happened.

I woke up abruptly!

“What was that about?” I whispered out loud.

My night clothes were drenched in sweat and I was shaken by the experience.

I couldn’t go back to sleep.

Quietly I slipped out of bed and went to my reading spot in the family room. I picked up my daily devotional and decided to read the previous day’s devotion which I had missed. The scripture at the top of the page was Matthew 25:31-34 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.’”

The words ‘sheep’ and ‘take your inheritance’ jumped out at me. I had just dreamt of a helmet with horns that resembled those of bighorn sheep; I had stepped into the unknown.  I had risked the consequences. What did this all mean?

Feelings of fear and apprehension had been my companions during those past few months of searching, and I often asked myself, “Should I, or shouldn’t I, take the risk?” Was God using this dream to show me that He knew my fears? Was He offering me reassurance that I should continue to search and “take my inheritance”? I knew it was a stretch, but there in the middle of the night, I claimed the dream and scripture as a sign to continue searching.

I did proceed with my search and a few months after that dream, in a remarkable way, I found my birth family. It happened less than a week after I travelled to the city of my birth.

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Here is a picture of my grandson reaching to touch the angel. It is a good reminder that we need to be sensitive to God’s leading and presence in our lives. We never know when or how God will speak to us.

You can hop over to this link to read the back story to my first Christmas in my adoptive home. btw did I mention I was born on Christmas Day?

http://hotappleciderbooks.com/the-inside-story-of-my-forever-home/

 I wish you all a blessed and joyful Christmas season.

My Love/Dislike Relationship With Christmas-by Heidi McLaughlin

I’m not a Scrooge. If you drive by my house you will see the Christmas swag on my front door and planters filled with decorations. I love sitting in a beautifully decorated restaurant and sharing stories and a meal with friends. I gasp with delight at the festive city streets canopied with twinkling lights and banners.  Then at dusk you will see my house blazing with outside Christmas lights.

What you won’t see is me walking through the mall laden with bags and boxes.  I haven’t bought wrapping paper or bows for umpteen years because our family keeps re-using and re-gifting.  That is the part of Christmas that hurts my heart and I’m trying not to dislike. The money and time spent to buy the perfect present that says: “I love you.”  Or the extravagant guilt gift that says: “Sorry, I didn't take you to Mexico with me.”

I’ve been trying to simplify Christmas for years, and even though it gets a little better each year, I still want to put a smile on someone’s face on Christmas morning. But after spending two weeks in Romania my heart has once again been wrecked, yearning for simplicity. The landscape and poverty of Romania took me back to my growing up years in Prince George.  Christmas was about going to church on Christmas Eve and hoping for the brown paper that held the classic mandarin orange,  candy cane and the hard rock candies. Waiting for a pair of skates to show up under the Christmas tree was all I could think about for weeks.If Santa didn’t bring it I would never have it.  Those were the years where things we needed came in a box with simple paper and a bow.

Having both my husbands die before Christmas also takes the holly, jolly out of the season.  It’s hard to sing, “Rudolph the red nosed reindeer” when all I want to sing is “Silent Night, all is calm all is bright.” I want to take time to reflect what actually happened that “silent night” to bring forth a Christ child that would change our lives and world forever.  Have we lost Him in our hurried distractions and endless lists to create the perfect Christmas? 

Yes, Christmas is the most magical time of the year. With the softly falling snow, twinkling lights and candy cane lattes, expectations are high for the perfect Christmas morning. But lets not get jaded when the t-shirt is too small, the ear buds are not right, or the Star War figure is the wrong one.   After all Christmas is not about the perfect gift or Bűche de Noël, it’s about the simplest and hardest gift ever given…Love.  How will you wrap up love this Christmas?

I’m still trying to find my place in Christmas.  After being in Romania and still grieving my beloved Jack, I am so grateful for the love of my family.  I’ll be sitting and sipping by the fire with my children and grandchildren.  Putting together a 1000 piece puzzle and playing Apples to Apples is our family’s default button.  This year we will be in Montana where the snow is magical and sledding is free. I hope in the midst of the wonderful noise and clutter, I will be able to find all that is “calm and bright” and receive the free gift and love of Christ. My heart is full of wonderful expectation.

Heidi McLaughlin lives in the beautiful vineyards of the Okanagan Valley in Kelowna, British Columbia. Heidi has been widowed twice. She is a mom and step mom of a wonderful, eclectic blended family of 5 children and 12 grandchildren. When Heidi is not working, she loves to curl up with a great book, or golf and laugh with her family and special friends.

Her latest book RESTLESS FOR MORE: Fulfillment in Unexpected Places (Including a FREE downloadable Study Guide) is now available at Amazon.ca; Amazon.com, Goodreads.com or her website: www.heartconnection.ca

Upended and Neck Deep in Trouble by David Kitz

Have you ever been neck deep in trouble? I've been there and it's not an entirely pleasant experience. I recall hanging upside down in my car, which was sitting on its roof in a snow-covered ditch. My wife was suspended upside down in the driver's seat beside me.

Suddenly finding yourself upside down after a high-speed-icy skid can be unsettling. I recall unfastening my seatbelt so I could reverse my position and sit upright on the interior of the car roof. Opening the car doors was impossible due to the snow jammed up on the outside. There we sat, trapped, car tires in the air, as the sun began to set.

We had two life lines: a mobile phone and a direct line to Jesus. Both worked flawlessly. Within minutes a young couple stopped and helped us out of the car. Later that evening we drove our flipped car back into the city undamaged. There was nothing to indicate we were in a rollover, not even a scratch or dent on the car body.

This true account serves as a reminder to me that God hears us when we pray. When we are in over our head—when we are neck deep and beyond—we can call out to God.

God did not save us because we are faultless. As the psalmist says, "You, God, know my folly; my guilt is not hidden from you" Psalm 69:5). God saves us because of His great mercy.

At this time of year I am reminded of another couple that had their lives upended. Mary and Joseph's world was turned upside down by an announcement by an angel. This unplanned pregnancy was not part of the script—not part of the plan for their lives as they originally intended. But God had something else in mind.

All too often our plans aren't God's plans. I can't imagine that Mary was too thrilled about giving birth to her firstborn in a stable. Though at first blush it may seem romantic, laying your baby in a manger has little appeal for the average first-time parents. We don't see millions trying to duplicate this experience.

But God's ways are higher than our ways. Let's keep that in mind next time our lives are upended by the unexpected. The Lord might just have a better plan.

Are you ready for it?







David Kitz is the author of The Soldier Who Killed a King. He and his wife Karen make their home in Ottawa. For further details on David's book and drama ministry visit: http://davidkitz.ca/

A Blessed Gift by Glynis M Belec

Christmas is a time to celebrate a birth. 

To thank the Lord, our God, for sending Christ to earth.

We celebrate with presents and trees adorned with lights

               We know that Jesus Christ was born on that star-lit night. 

Everyone is happy. There is caring all around

"Peace on Earth. Goodwill to men," is an ever-present sound. 

Yet sometimes, though we don't intend, we lose sight of the reason

The focus shifts away from Christ, at times, throughout the season. 

We rush to stores to buy the best for each one on our list.

With endless toys and precious gifts. There's no one we have missed. 

Let's not be blinded by the lights and tinsel on our trees.

Let's rejoice at Christmas time and fall down on our knees. 

The shepherds kneeled before the Lord and bowed their heads in prayer.

Our Saviour, Christ, was born that night - the news spread everywhere. 

So as we gather 'round the tree with friends and family

Do it in His blessed Name for all the world to see. 

Thanks be to God for his 
indescribable
Gift! 

2 Corinthians 9:15

Glynis lives, loves, laughs and does an awful lot of reading, writing, publishing and praying in 
her home office. 

        How thrilled Glynis is to be part of CHRISTMAS WITH HOT APPLE CIDER - an anthology filled with a wonderful assortment of Christmas short stories, memories, drama and poetry. 

                     www.glynismbelec.com 

Joy of the Word Ruth Smith Meyer

Many words describe various parts of Christmas.

“‘Tis the season to be jolly” one Christmas song instructs us.  But although jolly as in “jovial, cheery, happy, ebullient” may cover some of the reactions to the Great Gift that is the “reason for the season,” those words just don’t cover it for me.

 Joy is much more descriptive of what I feel. The thesaurus gives me more descriptive words—“happiness, enjoyment, elation, thrill, gladness, exultation and rapture.”  Yes!

As a writer and weaver of words, my response to that joy, is expressed in different ways.

For the last four years, I have compiled a Christmas Cantata for our community choir, using songs we’ve sung before and putting them together with narration I’ve written. In October, we begin to practice.  As we learn the various parts of the cantata, we not only work on perfecting the music, the words work their way into our hearts and ‘grow’ on us.  

The final evening of our concert brings it all together.   The lights are dimmed, the candles are lit and we share the message of God’s love being born in a stable, through the singing and narration. I see the message take its effect on the listeners.  There are rapt expressions, smiles, the odd tear and a feeling of peace. The miracle happens and my heart is filled with joy.

As the focus on God’s great love emerges with the approach of Christmas, my writing too, finds other ways to express the love that went to such great lengths so I could have a close relationship with him and he with me. My thoughts and my joy find their way into blogs, devotionals, short stories, new cantatas and poems.

One of the most satisfying of my writing projects gets under way early in November.  That’s my annual Christmas letter. Controversy surrounds these missives, but I have so many dear and treasured friends with whom I like to stay in touch—so I continue even as the dispute goes on.  Whether I get responses or not, nearly two hundred receive those letters either by email or snail-mail.  A few years when I skipped a few, I actually got calls in January to ask if I’m okay and to say that my letter was missed. When meeting friends at other occasions during the year, we have more of a connection than we would without those letters.  Thankfully more and more of my friends have adopted the same practice, and it gives me so much joy to hear about their lives.

When writing gift cards words are included to tell the recipient how they have been a gift in my life, or I tell them the gifts I see in them.

Place cards for our church Christmas dinner, are a nice way to help each diner realize that God’s gift is for them and they are a gift to God.

One year I even put words on pillowcases for each of my family—quotes that I felt suited them.  Another such quotes were arranged on my computer using different fonts and colours to emphasize the words.  Framed, they provided ongoing reminders of helpful truths.

Words give me much joy.  When I can pass them on, giving someone else positive motivation or encouragement, that joy is multiplied.

All that blessed joy stems from he who in the beginning was The Word.   Letting that Word live on                                                             through me is the greatest joy I can know or experience. 



Ruth Smith Meyer loves life in Ailsa Craig, Ontario.  Keeping connected to family and friends keeps her busy when she isn't pursuing ways to use her writing skills.   She's also always seeking for ways to sell her novels, memoir, children's story and multiple author books of which she's been part and accepting speaking engagements. 

A Promise Waiting --Carolyn R. Wilker

Snow falls softly here as I write today. No doubt there’ll be more snow by the end of the day. People were out raking leaves just over a week ago, but soon the cold wind came, shooting like an arrow down the tunnel of the city’s main street.

Tuesday evening I’d been out to meet with writer friends from our critique group, for a little social time before Christmas. On the way back to my car, the wind pushed against me, making me shiver and my teeth chatter. Though I wore a warm winter coat, my legs were cold. I thought, Here comes winter.

Coloured lights remind us that Christmas will come soon and the snow with it. In some points north, I’m sure they have plenty of it.

Winter, in our part of the world, begins near Christmas usually, and the nights are darker. Soon we’ll have the longest night or shortest day of the year, however you want to look at it. At that time of year some folks mark Blue Christmas because of losses they’ve suffered. Others struggle with diminishing sunlight and seasonal affective disorder.

It may also be appropriate to match that early winter in our part of the world with the Advent season in our Christian church—a time of waiting, a time to remember how things were for people before the Christ child came to the world. People were under duress from the Roman government, and now it seemed they wanted even more taxes to pay their way, from common folks who worked hard just to get by. Another census so that all the world could be counted. All their world, as they knew it. It seemed they had little hope.

There had been one proclamation by the prophet Isaiah that a special child would be born. Maybe they believed it and maybe they struggled to see how it could change anything. A child born to one of them to save them from their ruler. It hardly seemed possible. And yet, some held out hope, and few believed when it actually came to be. 

Would anyone believe a young girl called Mary who would carry the baby? Her family? Her fiancée to whom she was promised in marriage? The scandal would have rocked their community, and she was sent away for awhile. To visit an aunt who lived days away. People would not have believed the aunt’s story either. One who had been called to carry another child who would prepare the way for the special baby. An old woman beyond her prime, who’d borne no previous children of their own. Dire circumstances, by human measure.

Except that the two women had a bond beyond their blood relationship. Oh, how they must have rejoiced when they spent the time together. They had hope for the world, though neither one would know just how things would go. Hope was important.

And so this is the opening to that story that we mark every year beginning in late November and into December, until the night of the baby’s birth. Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?

We’re not quite at Christmas yet. In the middle of the shopping, decorating, baking and pre-Christmas gatherings, let’s remember the long time of waiting and of the hope people held in a nearly hopeless situation—before the special baby came to make his place in the world. A promise waiting. A promise in the works. As the hymn writer declared in 1710 and a 15^th Century processional put to music,

“O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here until the son of God appear.”

                                                     

                                           

http://www.carolynwilker.ca/