It was probably 15 years ago when I bought cheap lanyards for our store team to wear. I wanted something to hold the keys to the dressing rooms as well as laminated cards with reminders of the current store promotions.
Several of them had the letters WWJD repeated in bright colors.
I had no idea what it meant.
After my team laughed at my continuous naiveté, I decided we would still use them. Heck, I was never very good at political correctness anyway.
Now, perhaps not as naïve as I used to be, but still full of hope for mankind, I understand that it is in fact the real question that we have to be asking if we want to change the natural course of human events.
It’s the only question that can change human nature.
What would Jesus do?
Not just the Sunday School answers, but what would He really do? What DID He ACTUALLY do?
Continue reading My New Year’s Prayer
When our kids were still running around in those great footie pajamas and giggling at any escape of a bodily noise, Ann worked hard to make a wonderful Christmas, both on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.
You know, the kind of Christmas that small children lay awake all night for, waiting in anticipation, until at 3:00 a.m. they can’t stand it any longer and begin the bouncing on top of a sleeping Mom and Dad, who have only very recently themselves pulled the covers up over their heads.
Alex especially loved to unwrap packages. Looking back, we think that she probably helped Nick unwrap the majority of his as well.
But grumpy and OCD Dad had a hard time enjoying the magic of the morning while seeing all the giftwrap spread around, those bows and ribbons that were still perfectly good and needed to be saved for use again next year, and just the general chaos of it all.
Just imagine a manic perfectionist dad with OCD who sees EVERY detail and has a definite opinion of just EXACTLY how it should be – combined with a mom trying to make the season magical for two young bright-eyed children who loved mixing and matching things that just shouldn’t be mixed or matched – EVER.
Looking back, quite probably all the things that make Christmas so much fun for small children were all the things that could set me off.
Continue reading Moving forward by rekindling old traditions
Okay, one last story to share on Christmas Eve. Again, I don’t know where this originated, but it deserves to be put out there.
A friend of mine named Paul received an automobile from his brother as a pre-Christmas present. On Christmas Eve, when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it.
Is this your car, Mister?” he asked.
Paul nodded. “My brother gave it to me for Christmas.”
The boy looked astounded. “You mean your brother gave it to you, and it didn’t cost you anything? Gosh, I wish…”
He hesitated, and Paul knew what he was going to wish. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels.
“I wish,” the boy went on, “that I could be a brother like that.”
Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, “Would you like to ride in my automobile?” Continue reading A BROTHER LIKE THAT
Here’s another story we have come across over the years is worth sharing.
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.
One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.
His bed was next to the room’s only window.
The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end.
They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. Continue reading Are we blind enough to see?
Several years ago a neighbor shared this story with us. I don’t know the original author, but feel the message is timely for the world we currently live in.
It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past ten years or so.
It all began because my husband, Mike, hated Christmas – oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it – overspending… the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma – the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way. Continue reading The white envelope in the Christmas tree