The Dead of Winter and the Spirit's Fire

It's the dead of winter, the coldest time of the year. My back is aching. A pandemic is raging. Nerves are frayed. Patience has collapsed in a heap of ruin. And it's the best time to praise God. Yes, you read that correctly. It's the best time to lay aside our troubles and worries, and praise our Creator. Praising God in good times, for good times, is easy. Praising God in hard times requires more afore thought—more raw determination. Perhaps it's the best measure of our faith.

Stone arch bridge, Perth, ON

The apostle Paul challenges us with this admonition: "Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the Spirit" (1 Thessalonians 5:16-19, NIV). My Bible breaks the statement above into four separate verses and then tosses "Do not quench the Spirit" into an entirely new paragraph. But in the original Greek, there are no verse numbers, or indented paragraphs. These four statements all flowed together as one.

The Spirit's fire is stoked or quenched by our rejoicing, our prayer and our thanksgiving. None of these responses—our rejoicing, prayer and thanksgiving—should be driven by the circumstances we find ourselves in. Our circumstances may vary, but God's love for us is constant.

Paul and Silas perfectly illustrated the presence of God's Spirit in their lives as they prayed and sang hymns after being severely flogged and imprisoned in Philippi. See Acts 16:16-40. Did their physical pain and circumstances inhibit their rejoicing? Apparently not. They refused to quench the Spirit's fire. Instead, they stoked it.

Do not quench the Spirit (1 Thess. 5:19).

Is your fire going out? Can you still find some glowing embers among the ashes? Then take some action. Add some fuel. Throw on a few splinters of rejoicing. Log on some prayer time. Top it all with some heartfelt thanksgiving. In the dead of winter, at the coldest time of year, in defiance of a pandemic, let's build the warmest fire.

David Kitz is the chair of The Word Guild. His most recent book series is Psalms 365: Develop a Life of Worship and Prayer.

Silent Night by Glynis M Belec

(This was originally published in my Reflections column in 

The Drayton Community News, November 25th, 2016; slightly edited) 

One of the best parts about the Christmas Eve service at our church is the lighting of the candles and singing Silent Night at the close. It’s a beautiful simple song that reminds me exactly what Christmas is about.

Ya’ll probably won’t want me to sing it to you any time soon lest I get mistaken for the braying donkeys, but oh, those lovely lyrics are worth pondering.

Silent night, holy night!  All is calm, all is bright.

Busyness and bustling distracts us from the true holiness of the season. Help me God to remember why we celebrate. I secretly wonder why people who don’t believe in Christ, make such a noise. And then some try their best to steal Christ from Christmas. Let my heart be calm, even so and let my eyes, as they consider You, be bright, Lord.

Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child. Holy infant so tender and mild,

The proof is in the pudding. Or should I say in the Scripture – Luke 1:30-31: But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. And Luke 1:34 “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

Jesus, you kept your tenderness and mildness because I feel it in my life sometimes, especially when the world renders me weak. Thank you, Holy Infant child grown up.

Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace

Why does the world battle You with such hatred? All they need do is seek Your face and the peace that passeth all understanding will follow. When you were a Babe, did you sleep in heavenly peace, really? Or was Your heart unsettled for Your soul knew Your destiny?

Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight.

I think if I saw a host of angels in my face I might quake a little. But then I would hope I’d discover that the silent, holy night was not about me being fearful but about You being holy and perfect and born.

Glories stream from heaven afar. Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,

I love that God was the first to introduce live streaming with all those glories, on that wonderful eve! I’m joining in with the heavenly hosts on this one (just turn down my microphone a little).

Christ the Savior is born! Christ the Savior is born

Triple amen on that one. I love when people say they believe Christ was a great prophet and a wise man. But they just cannot believe He is the Son of God. Then I laugh a little because in the next breath I discover they believe in some Divine power – um…what’s the hold-up with believing that Divine Power is Jesus, born in the flesh? I’m thinking it must do with facing up to a sinful nature, maybe.

Silent night, holy night! Son of God love's pure light.

God is love. It says that over and over in the Bible. A son carries on the traits of a father. Thank you, Jesus, for bringing God’s love to earth. I’m so glad we have a special, designated day to focus on the Light - the real Reason for the celebration. You’re the best, God.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face with the dawn of redeeming grace,

Redeeming Grace. That’s a mouthful. And a heartful. I don’t deserve one iota of Your Redeeming Grace, Lord. But You really have saved a wretch like me. You tell me it’s not where I’ve been, it’s where I am going that matters. When I keep looking behind me, like I am wont to do, I miss the radiant beams of Your beautiful, Holy Face. I will keep trying. Promise.

Jesus Lord, at Thy birth. Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.

You were born. You were Lord when you were born. You were the most amazing Gift that ever could be and You came here to die when you were born. How can I express anything else this Silent Night?  Thank you, Jesus, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Christmas is fast approaching, although I do not put up decorations or do too much prior to December, I won’t have the opportunity to send my greetings to you this way so for now let me wish you all a very Merry Christmas, friends. May you and your families enjoy a truly Silent Night this Christmas.

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

Her latest children's book, JESUS LOVES ME WHEN I DANCE, celebrates and shows us that with Jesus Love, we'll never lose! 

             www.glynisbelec.com 

Heart-Swell — Peter Black

Modified slightly from original post-Thanksgiving article, written for P-Pep! column and published in the Southwestern Ontario newspaper, The Guide-Advocate – October 17, 2013.                                       

How was your Thanksgiving weekend? Sweet . . . or bitter? Perhaps bittersweet?

Bittersweet – I’m sure that’s a how a friend of ours felt about hers, for while she is grateful for her wonderful family, she cannot help but recall the sudden death of her husband two years ago, which occurred within several days of the Thanksgiving weekend.

My wife and I enjoyed lunch and a pleasant visit with her last week. It was evident, though – and perfectly understandable, that a clear element of sadness surfaced, especially in view of the approaching anniversary of her loss and the holiday weekend.

We were glad and honoured to have known Ron and worked with him many years ago, when I was the couple’s pastor. He was an upstanding man in the community, who was unashamed of his Christian faith, but who quietly lived it, taking an interest in people and performing deeds of kindness, without fanfare, behind the scenes. It’s mostly since his death that I’ve learned more about how active he’d been in this way.

I look back to a particular day before the Thanksgiving weekend in which I experienced a great sense of what I’ll call ‘heart-swell.’ It happened when May and I took an hour out of a busy flurry and went for a walk on a community trail by the golfing greens; something we’d done less of this year. It was an absolutely glorious fall day.

A brilliant sun lit up the goldenrod, and purples, whites and yellows of wayside flowers, contrasted by beige and brown of broad-leafed tall grass and bulrushes. Acres of golfing greens flanked the open areas, and in places we swished our way through fallen leaves and enjoyed the music of creek waters singing through rapids. 

My private sentiments on that walk were similar to those I expressed in a recent article, about how I’d wished that everyone on the globe were blessed with the beauty and tranquillity that I enjoyed at that moment. On our trail walk I breathed in deeply and thanked God for sight and hearing and the ability to be out enjoying these wonders. I also spared a thought for those who lack those faculties.  

The heart-swell included my sister Marg and her husband’s safe return from the UK, and also relief that our recent musical stint at a church’s anniversary service went well, and that our voices held out so we could fulfil that commitment. Gratitude for many more blessings of everyday life, of family members and friends, and of our community and country flooded my heart and mind. Nature’s beauty has a capacity for elevating wonder and intensifying appreciation.

What stands out as you reflect on the fall season thus far and your Thanksgiving weekend? Your heart aches for someone who passed away since last year or one now living too distant to journey home? A relational difficulty’s left an empty chair? I hope you experienced some heart-swell too. Making a modest contribution of items towards a local food bank is a simple and effective way for expressing gratitude, and that connects you to other people’s lives and homes, even if you don’t know them.

David expresses heart-swell in numerous psalms. For example: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise . . .” (from Psalm 8:1-2a).

May heart-swell prompt heart-felt praise from our lips as children of God.

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Peter A. Black is a freelance writer in Southwestern Ontario, and is author of “Parables from the Pond” – a children's / family book (mildly educational, inspirational in orientation, character reinforcing). (Finalist -- Word Alive Press ISBN 1897373-21-X)
His inspirational column, P-Pep! appears weekly in The Guide-Advocate. His articles have appeared in 50 Plus Contact and testimony, and several newspapers in Ontario. Peter’s current book project comprises a collection of 52 column articles.

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Hosanna, A Jesus Word - Rose McCormick Brandon

Hosanna! One of my favorite words, a celebration word, it exalts God to the highest heaven. When thank-you Lord" and "praise God" seem weak and unsatisfactory, we can dig deep and find that perfect word - Hosanna.
The crowds who hailed Jesus as the long-promised Messiah and led His procession into Jerusalem one week before the crucifixion used that word - Hosanna. They had watched Him relieve the afflicted of demons. Their hearts had burned within them as they listened to His teaching. They said, "No man has ever taught like this man."

When the crowds saw Jesus set the afflicted free, joy overcame them. They spread their cloaks on the ground, a carpet for Him. They sliced branches, laid them on the road to cushion his ride. They danced, sang and shouted, "Hosanna!"

According to Strong's Exhaustive Concordance (a book thick enough to stand on to reach a high cupboard), Hosanna is used only six times in the Bible - three times by Matthew, twice by Mark and once by John. All three were disciples of Jesus.

Hosanna is a marvellous word. I wish we used it more often. It stirs the Spirit. It's a word perfectly suited to Jesus and to no one else. Besides being a praise word, it can also mean "Save us." Jesus, the One and only Savior earned our Hosanna praise by His death on the cross and His resurrection from the dead.

In this holy week that culminates in Christ's resurrection, let's remember the word Hosanna - praise and exalt Jesus for giving His life to save us from our sins. Do you need the Savior? Call out to Jesus, "Hosanna in the highest!"


Visit Rose McCormick Brandon at her faith blog, Listening to My Hair Grow. Read stories of British Home Children at The Promise of Home. Rose is a frequent contributor to several Christian publications. Read more about her here.

Making the Circle Wider/MANN

I’m a farmer’s daughter! As a young girl, I was often asked to take the cows to the back field and sometimes if the parents had milked late, it would be almost dark by the time I got back to the barn. I can remember those summer evenings with stars appearing like a great wide canopy over my head. Knowing the story of Jesus’ birth, I marveled at the significance of a message and truly expected to see angels at any time.

Then, later in my married years, Doug and the boys had quite a large flock of sheep. Again I can remember checking fences, following a sheep through a broken rail to the neighbour’s field and crying, after wolves had ravaged. Again, the canopy of stars hanging overhead is a comforting memory in times of uncertainty.

In Jesus’ day, shepherds or sheep farmers were not well thought of. Although they would have supplied sheep as sacrificial animals in the near-by temple in Jerusalem, they themselves would not have been allowed to enter the temple to worship. They would have been seen as unclean after following sheep day and night across the dry land or perhaps named an outcast because of their lifestyle, maybe a scoundrel, sometimes accused of stealing another’s sheep, to increase their numbers. The religious probably thought they had good reason to forbid them from holy places.

Keeping this in mind, I ask then, why did the angel’s brilliance not break through into the temple, arouse the religious and sing their Gloria to a more receptive group or at least to men who were used to discussing God's intervention into human life. But, no! It was to a group of shepherds. Luke says “And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9 An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them . . . (v.8f).”

It makes me wonder when dressed in my best bib and tucker, thinking my most pious and praiseworthy thoughts, if God is out doing the shepherd thing with those who are just doing what comes natural to them, like keeping watch over whatever people keep watch over when they’re not in church. Don’t misunderstand me – I love the church. However, sometimes we are reminded that God makes the circle wider than we can ever imagine.

All at once, it makes me want to go to the most unlikely places where I think God may be breaking into the most surprising space with a wonderful message, an invitation, and a promise that the glory of the Lord will shine around them. Sounds good to me. Now where should I look to find such a place? I might just want to go and seek out some shepherds.

Blessings on this eighth day of Christmas.
Donna Mann
http://www.donnamann.org/
http://meadowlane.homestead.com/ (children's MP3 & PDF stories)

The Sacrifice of Praise - Grove

We bring the sacrifice of praise
Unto the house of the Lord.
We bring the sacrifice of praise
Unto the house of the Lord.
And we offer up to You
The sacrifices of thanksgiving;
And we offer up to You
The sacrifices of joy.

- Kirk Dearman

I’ve sung this song in church. Maybe you have, too. Many moons ago – back in the day, as they say.

Yesterday, the moment I awoke, God spoke to me. “What is the sacrifice of praise?”

Oh man, pop quiz and I haven’t even had my coffee yet.

Okay – sacrifice, Old T time (Yes, I know there is a reference to continually offering the sacrifice of praise to God in the NT – Hebrews 13:15, but Hebrews is a book deeply steeped in OT and the word would have the same connotations if not the same actions).

I sat up, feeling awake. I know how these things go. God brings something to my mind, often in the form of a question (I like questions), and I get to experience grace as He shows me something “new” about the question at hand. (It’s not new to Him, but only to my small mind).

Okay, Lord. Sacrifice. I’m thinking animals, temple, maybe long line ups, waiting. Patience.

Good. Now back up.

Uh, okay. Backing up. Well, a fellow would have to organize his family, maybe travel. Planning.
Good. Now back up.

Hmm. Well, a fellow would have to raise the animals, I suppose. A perfect animal, without spot or blemish. Or the first fruits of the harvest. He’d be working at it for some time – a year? And then would offer it to You in faith, regardless of how well his business, farm, family, crops, or life had gone that year. Perseverance.

Hey! That’s three “P’s,” I think, quite pleased with my alliteration.

We’re quiet for a moment, God and I, just hanging out, thinking, waiting.

I know He’s showing me something, and I’ve learned to wait.

Then my penny drops.

It’s me.

I’m the sacrifice of praise. The sacrifice of joy, of thanksgiving.

It’s the life I live, the words I speak, the meditations of my heart. It’s what I write, what I allow myself to think about. It’s how I love my family, treat strangers, promote my books, speak out, hold hands, call someone I haven’t seen in church for a few weeks, invite a friend, volunteer, make life a little nicer for someone else. Lifestyle.

I smile. “You’re not asking much, Lord. Just all of me.”

Bonnie Grove
www.bonniegrove.com
www.fictionmatters.blogspot.com