Valentine's Day

I'm convinced I have the sweetest family in the world.

Need proof?

I'm sitting here at my computer, nibbling chocolate from my brother. Out on the kitchen table sits a vase filled with roses; from the same brother. Gifts to my sisters and myself. He gave some to Mom, too.

My parents gave me the nicest card ever today, wishing me a day filled with love, and telling me how much I am loved.

My youngest sister gave me two Hershey kisses, and a cookie dough spoon to lick - and a pink construction-paper card.

As I sat here writing, I had to get up and answer a knock on my bedroom door - my other sister stood there with a beautiful handmade card. And two more chocolate kisses. The red paper heart was filled with carefully-written words, all sweeter than the sweetest chocolate.

But it goes beyond today.

Yesterday Mom gave me an iron. An iron. Do you remember my last post? She read it, too. Little did I know she had an iron tucked away for my birthday. She impulsively, spontaneously, and generously, and lovingly, gave it to me yesterday. I used it for hours today, as I sewed, and I love it. My own iron! Incidentally, it does not spit water, and it does not have automatic shut-off; it will stay on for hours!

A couple of weeks ago, my older sister gave me a thank-you note, for a baby shower gift. But this was no routinely stated, stiffly polite, typical thank-you note. She took time, in her flowing handwriting, to list just about every single thing I've helped her with or given her during the entire time she was pregnant! She had noticed everything, and taken the time to remember it. And even write it out.

I was out with one of my brothers tonight, and we drove pass a brightly-lit store window in a plaza. I saw a dress I loved, and said I wished we could pass it again so I could see better how it was made. (Hoping to someday copy it.) Without missing a beat, that brother of mine turned around and drove pass the window again!

I'm telling you, I have the sweetest family ever. Every single one of them astounds me with their thoughtfulness and generosity. I know that's Christ in them. And I'm so glad He's in them. He makes our family work, ya know? Life would be so wrong without Him.

Today is Valentine's Day. I've heard it called "singles' awareness day." I don't really do much to celebrate Valentine's Day - maybe someday, when I have a sweetheart, I will. But I don't feel lonely or depressed today. I'm not single. I'm surrounded by a loving family unit, and they make my heart sing.

Did you see the sun today? Did you feel the breeze? Your Heavenly Father loves you, and He's showing you it every moment, if you'll only take the time to look!

My "Secondly" Blog Post

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! I can't tell you how mine went, because I'm writing this post ahead of time, so I won't have to worry about it the week after Christmas. But I'm sure it was splendid.

If you've been reading my recent blog posts, you know the title for this one came from a post where I started a list of things I was going to talk about, and never made it past "firstly."

My "secondly" thing happened to be about New Years, so I decided to wait until after Christmas to write about it. After all, I'm the one who complains when stores start putting up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving.

New Years resolutions are the topic of many newspapers, magazines, and blogs this time of year. We all like the feeling of a fresh new start, a chance to change for the better, and begin anew. Never mind that most people forget about their resolutions by the time February is winding down.

Are you like that?

Do you consider your word something to be given seriously, and kept faithfully - even if you've only given your word to yourself? What does a commitment mean, if it's not kept?

Well, it's easy to scold, but I admit it can be hard to stick with something. That's why I think of these things in terms of "goals," not resolutions (for the most part). To have a goal is motivating. To make a promise to yourself or to God and not keep it is much more serious. So I had goals.

I flopped on one item myself, last year. I wanted to study Spanish five days a week. I made it through February, then started getting pretty sketchy.

But I made it with other items. By the end of this month, I will have read Proverbs through once every month for this year (that was a resolution). And I published a book I had been working on since I was 16. That was a goal.

I had a few other goals, but I try to keep it basic. For the most part, I keep things pretty realistic. This isn't a time to dream of what I'd do if I suddenly had 3 extra hours in my day, unlimited funds, and the brain of a genius. This is a time to figure out what God is calling me to pursue this year, and what I can reasonably accomplish if I work hard. Now is the time to figure that out, before the heat of battle makes me tired, nervous, or discouraged. When that time comes, I'll have my goals staring me in the face saying, "You figured this out before hand; you counted the cost. You can do this! You know you can, with God's help! It's not impossible!"

I like to have categories in which to divide my goals; intellectual, spiritual, and physical. Reading through the Bible in one year would be a spiritual and intellectual goal. Working out three times a week would be a physical goal.

These are all examples of positive goals. Not positive in the sense of "good" (though they are good!), but positive in the sense that they require you to take action to fulfill them. They are offensive rather than defensive.

To stretch yourself a little bit this year, I encourage you to try some negative goals in all three areas. You don't just want to add good things to your life; you want to remove those things which are harmful.

So what needs to go? Maybe your goal is to de-clutter your life and get rid of all those items that you really don't need. Maybe you want to stop a bad habit. Is there a certain sin you need to work on and pray against until it is thoroughly conquered? Maybe you want to get rid of certain harmful foods in your diet. Maybe you want to stop being a procrastinator.

So get yourself a blank piece of paper (Or Word Document, if you're on the computer more than you're off). At the top of the page, write "Goals for 2012", and below that make three columns.

Now stop and think. And pray. Envision the past year, and look forward into this one. What do you see that you want to stop? Where do you see God's hand of blessing? What needs to continue?

In the first column, list (let's keep it simple) five things you want to change/stop. Opposite them, in the middle column, write what you want to replace them with. If you're not a morning person, and want to change that, your goal sheet might look like this; "Stop sleeping until 9:00am" "Wake up at 7:00 every weekday morning." In the third column, write the steps that will make it happen; "Set alarm 15 minutes earlier, every third day, until I am getting up at 7:00 regularly."

Put the paper somewhere you'll see it often. Inside the front cover of your Bible? On the wall in your bedroom? At your desk?

I find that goals need to be a mixture of positive and negative to be the most motivating, because our human nature wants to be both offensive and defensive, depending on our mood.

New Year Resolutions aren't a "must." For years I didn't do them. I thought they were only for people who wanted to lose weight. But now I love challenging myself so much that I do month goals as well.

In the Bible, there were many times the nation of Israel took the time to read through God's law and dedicate themselves anew to following it. That ought to be a part of any New Year's goal-setting plan. Of course, the reason Israel did it many times is because they kept failing. And I'll fail, too. But that doesn't need to stop me from trying again. The struggle itself helps you gain strength.

What are some of your goals for the New Year? Are you remembering to consider all areas - Spiritual, Intellectual, and Physical? What do you think of positive and negative goal setting?

My Christmas Story

Unexpected Gain

Sometimes we must lose to gain.

I was like that. I lost much – and gained more. And it all started when Jesus was born.

I am deeply moved every time I hear someone describe our Lord’s birth. You must understand that, until I was saved, I knew very little about Him. But when I heard about His birth, and where He was born …well, I’ll never forget what I felt.

You see, I own an inn. Or, I did until 5 years ago, when my second son officially became the owner. There was really very little to give him, with business being the way it is, but what is left, he owns. Maybe taxes will go down. Maybe cows will learn to fly.

I remember when, 40 years ago now, all the filthy government mismanagement really began to hurt our income. No one could afford to travel, and when we did have guests, we lost most of our profit to taxes. I thought we would sink.

Until a new census required everyone to travel. Now that tax I liked. We made more money in two weeks than we made the rest of that year. For 14 days straight, every room was full. I concentrated on using our opportunity to the utmost. And that, today, is what I regret.

Thinking back, I remember that, halfway through the first week, we started turning away many people every day. We had two or three rooms that might have held a few more occupants, but I was saving those spaces in the event a rich man was desperate and willing to pay double. You learn tricks like that when you’re in business as long as I was.

Soon there were only two spaces left. The first went to a poor man. He had walked for miles and could pay only half price. I wanted to help him, but I was sure that if I gave him the space, ten very rich, very desperate men would walk in right behind him. I almost said no, but then Caleb entered the inn.

“Look – he’s watching,” my mind whispered. “If you turn this man away, Caleb will tell the town how harsh and greedy you are.” On the other hand, if I had pity, Caleb would note that, too. And being favored by a man as rich as Caleb was a good thing.

So the poor man got a room. I blush now to think how much effort I poured into making the religious crowd see me as something I was not.

Ten minutes later, a young couple showed up. Maybe they had in-laws with them – my memory is blurry now. But I remember the couple. They could pay full price – but no more. I wasn’t about to lose my last space for regular price. Not on a night like that. Not when dozens of people would pay double. It was the one time government was benefitting me, and I intended to profit from the situation. Caleb was gone now. This was my business.

So I turned them away. And tried not to remember that we were Bethlehem’s only inn.

I heard later that our neighbors took them in. Many people were opening their homes and renting rooms for a small fee that month. Apparently our neighbor’s house was already packed, but they let this couple and the group they were with use the stable. They stayed there while waiting their turn to register for the census. All government projects take awhile.

On the second evening, the woman had a child. That’s all I remember about it. I’m sure there were noises, and lights in the wee hours of the morning; but I was running an inn. My wife remembers a group of temple shepherds coming to the door, asking permission to search our stable, but I was busy then, too. I know now that it was not ours, but our neighbor’s stable, that held what they sought.

Those busy weeks were soon over, and life returned to normal. I paid little notice when that couple left the stable and rented a tiny house in our town. A few months later, I hired the man to repair our worn-out front door – now that he was a useful neighbor, I wanted him. He did good work, I paid him, and we occasionally greeted one another in the street after that.

Many more months passed. My own wife gave me a boy – my first born son. He came into the world in a warm room, above the inn. He grew fast, and filled my heart with pride and love, with every coo and gurgle.

Then that awful night came. Only a few hours before sunrise, dozens of riders and terrible snorting horses came thundering down our peaceful streets. I looked out of the window with groggy vision while my wife tried to calm our crying Nathan.

They were pounding on the door, breaking in before I could answer. And then – my heart aches as I remember – they grabbed our little boy. His pudgy hands flailed the air. His big dark eyes tore my heart. The men said something about our king demanding the death of Bethlehem’s children. My wife was shrieking and sobbing as they held her back. I was halfway across the room before I was knocked to the floor. They held me there until it was over. The knife they used killed more than my son; it destroyed my heart.

Life didn’t matter after that. Why should I struggle to live, in a country where leaders could take what was dearest to me, and tear it apart? I did not live. I only existed. I grew old. Other children came, but I loved with fear, expecting to lose. And God? I no longer cared about pleasing Him. If He could let such gruesome wickedness go by unpunished, He could overlook my petty faults. Of this I was sure. He obviously did not hate evil as much as I had thought.

It was 30 years later that I finally understood. We had traveled to Jerusalem for the customary Passover feast, and as we left the city, we walked by the hill of the skull – Jerusalem’s place of execution. We saw the agony of the three men dying on that hill, and looked the other way. We were close enough to hear the gasping breath, and the dying moans. I heard the man on the center cross say, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” and I did not know what to think.

That was the scene God used to bring me to salvation a few months later. Philip visited Bethlehem and told us about Jesus. At first I scoffed, but then I heard that Jesus was the man who forgave while dying. And this Jesus was God’s Son. Images of my infant boy’s lifeless form, and a man’s destroyed body on a cross, mixed in my mind, and I felt pain. So God, too, had a Son who was killed by soldiers. And both the Son and the Father had willed it to be so. For me.

How could this be? Were my sins truly so awful that they demanded such a price? Perhaps God hated evil more than I thought. Did God really love me so much, that He would pay that painful price?

That day, I saw how awful my sins are, and that day they were paid for by the blood of Christ Jesus.

“You know, He was born here, in Bethlehem,” Philip told me later.

My brows raised. The Messiah? Born here?

“It was during a census, thirty-some years ago – I guess you are old enough to remember it.”

Yes, I did.

“His mother tells me she gave birth in a stable,” Philip said.

My tongue thickened and stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Tell me about it,” I croaked.

Can I describe how I felt when I learned how He was born? It did not take long to put the pieces together. To think – God entered the world in my neighbor’s stable, and it could have been my inn! Did ever a man lose so great an opportunity for so small a thing? I might have held Him in my very arms! My grandchildren envy me because I can say I saw Christ in the flesh, but O how much more I might have had! When I sit and ponder how my selfishness put the Son of God in a dirty stable on the night of His birth, I am even more thankful for those words, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

To be forgiven by the Almighty is more than I can understand. I still miss my son. But I doubt I would have listened to Philip had I never known such loss. Such is the wisdom of God.

He took my son, so He could give me His.

Christmas

Is it just me, or does blogsphere get really quiet this time of year? Everybody is busy doing things like spending time with family or shopping, and blogging gets put on the back burner - along with little things like cleaning one's bedroom and keeping up with emails.

But I digress. My bedroom looks much better this actual moment. Never mind that a few days ago I had to kick (Ahem. I mean nudge) bags, clothes, and books out of the way to get from the door to my bed. I have reasons. Where else can you store presents except your bedroom? And if you're going to have bags and boxes everywhere, why bother to pick up laundry or put books back on the bookshelf?

My logic is warped, I'm afraid.

But I've reformed. My bedroom is half-way decent again. The emails.....um, different story. But I'm working on it.

Now, what did I get online to write about? .....Oh yes.

First, I want to wish you a Merry Christmas, just on the grounds that I may not speak to you again until after New Years. ...But, then again, you never know. It might be just the writers that are absent from blogsphere. If you prove to me that the readers haven't gone anywhere, I might be tempted to do another post before 2012 rolls around.

Secondly, ...

Well, before I get to the secondly thing, let's talk about Christmas some more. Because I like Christmas. And 'cause the secondly thing is really more about New Years, and 2012 scares me a bit at this moment.

So, Merry Christmas again.

I know not every Christian celebrates Christmas - I have several friends who don't. And those who do, celebrate it in very different ways. That doesn't bother me. Everybody has their viewpoints on it.

I know Christ probably wasn't born on Dec. 25th. I think there is a good bit of evidence to suggest that the wise men gave him gifts on December 25th (see this video to know why), but birthday? Nah, probably not. And I know that, traditionally, years ago, December 25th was a pagan celebration. (Please note; Christmas was not the pagan holiday; but the pagan holiday fell on December 25th. I have no idea what it was called. )

Does it bother me that the pagan holiday and the celebration of Christ's birth are on the same day? Maybe a little. But it makes me think of a story I heard about Patrick, missionary to Ireland. In his days there were still druids in Ireland, and they had a special day dedicated to the worship of their gods. A special part of the ceremony was the lighting of a gigantic bonfire on a high hill. No one was allowed to light their own fires that night until the large one was lit. The land lay in darkness.

Patrick saw the spiritual darkness of the land. He decided that he and his small band of Christians were going to light a fire in honor of the God they served - before the druids lit theirs. And they would do it on a high hill near the one the druids occupied - in open, direct defiance to the pagan gods.

So, on the night when no other fires were supposed to be lit, even before the druids lit their own fire, a bonfire raged opposite their hill. "Who had dared to light that fire?" the druids asked. The man of God, Patrick," came the answer. "He defies our gods."

I feel the same way about Christmas - the fact that I want to worship my God on a day pagans want to honor theirs doesn't bother me a bit. I know Christmas isn't a Biblically-commanded holiday, and I have no problem with those who don't celebrate it. But I know Christ was born, and I like to celebrate that fact.

So now that I've gone off on a bit of a rabbit trail.....

I'm excited that Christmas is only a few days away, aren't you? Some people chose to do things simply. Some become very elaborate. Our family does very little outside the home (parties, events, etc.), but we do love to make the home celebration a big'un. Decorating, Christmas Bible reading, getting up early on Christmas morning, a big meal, gifts, music, singing, candlelight....

I do love the tradition of gift-giving. Picking out things to make my loved ones smile is such a joy. I wonder if God the Father felt a lot of joy when unto us a Son was given.

I guess He did. His will was being worked out, and His plan was being accomplished. As a human, I would have been serious and pensive about my son being born with the purpose of giving his life for sinners, but God loved us so much....I bet He even smiled that night. The angels must have marveled.

I must move on the the secondly thing before I run out of blogging time. But now that it comes right down to it, I don't feel like writing about New Years quite yet.

I have two posts to write before the New Years. The "Secondly" one...and a short Christmas story that I wrote and want to share with you. I'll try to get that up before Christmas. If you want to read it, that is.

I hope you are having a wonderful week. This is my "holiday week." I'm allowing myself to spend time doing just stuff the workaholic in me always screams at; like sitting and browsing gardening books for hours and hours, or taking time to have a tea party with my younger sister (I know - I should do that more often!), or writing a blog post. I'm also spending lovely long hours in the kitchen, which makes me very happy. :)

I must go for now. Hope to talk to you soon.
Amber

Happy New Year!

Hello, dear friends!

I thought about coming into Webland last week, to wish you a merry Christmas, but I didn't think many of you would be visiting my little corner of the web when there were so many other fun things to do...

...so I didn't. But merry Christmas, anyway! I hope you had a lovely one. I had one so lovely that it almost felt too perfect. I savored every minute.

I have shown up to with you a happy New Year, however. Aren't you proud of me? I also must tell you that I have a new blog series in the works that I plan to launch in January - three of the posts are already written. The reason I'm mentioning this is two-fold; one, to encourage you to stick around and not put me on that list of "blogs-to-never-bother-checking-'cause-they-never-update," and, two, because if I tell you about it, I'll have to publish the posts, and I need the motivation to publish. I'm feeling shy about the topic.

F0r those of you who have blogs, do you ever feel nervous about broaching certain topics, or writing certain posts? Are there some that are so intimidating, you've never written them, though you've composed them in your head?

But I'm getting away from my point. This is New Year's Eve. Almost New Year's Day. What are you doing tonight? Are you staying up until midnight? I usually don't...and I wasn't planning on it tonight...but it looks like I might end up doing it just because I haven't caught up on all my computer work yet.

Let me encourage you to take a moment and look back on this past year, before looking forward at 2011. Take some time to discuss the last twelve months with God, and ask Him what He thinks of how you spent them. Thank Him for His blessings. Remember the lessons He taught you. Rejoice in His goodness.

Here are some questions to get your memory kicked into full gear:

~ What was the most challenging month for you this year?
~ Did you make any new friends?
~ Read any new books?
~ What did you write?
~ Did you start a new hobby/work?
~ What new skills did you learn?
~ Where did you travel?
~ Did you have an opportunity to do something you had always wanted to do?
~ Did you conquer any special sins or temptations this year?
~ How much Scripture did you read this year?
~ How many people did you witness to?
~ What were the darkest hours that God brought you through? How did they challenge you, and mature you?
~ How has your family changed this year?
~ Did you smile enough this year? Laugh enough? Work enough?
~ What did you do to bring beauty into your home?
~ What season did you like best this year?
~ Did you try any new foods this year?
~ Has your prayer life grown this year?

Those are just a few random questions to help you get started thinking. It's always good to look back and see where you've been; it helps you get your heart set correctly on where you should go. Besides, it's fun!

Do you have goals for this new year? Would you mind sharing some?

Things I'm Thankful For

~ God's love. It's the first thing that comes to mind when I think about what I'm thankful for - which is often. It's absolutely foremost in my mind this year - so much so that I feel like running around, grabbing people by the shoulders and saying, "have you heard? God is love! God loves me!" I've been made aware of His love in a new and bigger way this year, and it's totally indescribably wonderful.

~ Salvation. Mercy. Grace. Forgiveness. All offshoots of the above item, but each one a separate world of delights, full of its own implications and joys.

~ Music - I've fallen deeper in love with it this year. :)

~ Parents who are in love with each other. This means more and more to me, the older I get.

~ Daddy. My leader, protector, and teacher. The one who makes me smile when I'm sad.

~ Mom. The kind of friend every girl should have. Faithful, wise, and constant. Unselfish. And a wonderful person to hang out with and do things with - something I've been doubly thankful for since my older sister has moved out of the house. :)

~ Siblings who are my best friends. Brothers who make me proud, and sisters who fill me with joy.

~ My sister's marriage - it's been a beautiful picture of Christ and His bride.

~ My new brother-in-law. My sister has good tastes. :) ...So does he, come to think of it. :)

~ Our location. I love where I live.

~ The beauty of life. Growing things. Animals. Babies.

~ The opportunities God has given me this year. I've gotten to do so many things I'd only dreamed of doing before.

~ My hands. I love working with them.

~ Books. Words. Language.

~ My Bible. God's Word. Seriously, that dear, precious, book....I owe so much to it.

~ Kind friends. I have so many of them, and they are so kind and unselfish and encouraging and loving that they are continually surprising me; "oh, you mean you are that kind? You mean you care that much? Wow."

~ My church. Our Pastor. God's people. Sweet fellowship.

~ Freedom. Liberty. Such a high cost, and such a exquisite prize!

~ My Dad's job. With so many people unemployed, I'm so thankful Dad's been able to continue working. And my brother has a job too, now.

~ My new (own!) bedroom. Never thought I'd get used to it this fast! :)

~ God's patience. Wow, I don't know what I'd be like without this.

~ Smiles. Singing. Laughter.

~ Sunshine.

~ Plants.

~ Food, and the ability to make things in the kitchen.

~ Love.

~ God's direction.

~ The Holy Spirit.

~ The unshakable assurance of knowing that God finishes what He starts.

~ Trials. Really. I started this year with some very deep, dark times, and they have been the springboard to draw me nearer to God. I'm so thankful for them.

What about you? What are you thankful for?


I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

If you've been wondering where I am...

It's awful, I know. I've been absent for a long time, without so much as popping in to say I'm alive.

Well, for part of that time I wasn't sure I was alive, and then when I was sure I didn't want everyone to know it, and then when I wanted them to know it I had no time to tell them.

Make sense?

Two words ought to make everything clear: Heather's wedding.

Oh, it was lovely. The preceding week was hectic, but Friday's rehearsal and the wedding on Saturday were absolutely fantastic. It wasn't craziness that made me feel like hiding in a hole, that's for sure.

I actually had fun on Friday and Saturday - 'specially Friday. So many people that we care about where there, and we were all working toward and common goal, and everyone was so helpful, and there was so much laughter....how could it not be fun?

On Saturday, things were a little different. I still had fun, but it was a more subdued feeling, for I was also struggling with tears. My sister was leaving.

The ceremony itself was peaceful, graceful, full of beauty; it was all the things you could desire. I felt peaceful standing up there, and I was grateful, because I know it came from God.

I don't have time to tell you all about the details - I hope I can do that at a later date. This has been a long week for me, full of lots of emotions....and a lot of work. We are preparing to help Heather and Eugene move into their new house when they return from their honeymoon on Saturday. That being said, I must run. I hope to post more later. For now, a peek at the dresses I kept talking and talking about on here: (I hope I didn't bore you to tears with my continual references to "wedding sewing!")

I hope to post more wedding photos soon, and tell you all about it. For now, thanks to each of you who were praying for us on that day! I love how a blog is different from a journal in that respect; you are real, caring, people, and I know that many of you are praying for me. I love that. God bless each of you. (See - I pray for you too.:)

The Monday after Christmas

Welcome, everyone! I trust you had a very wonderful Christmas, celebrating the fact that God became flesh and dwelt among us.

I had a very relaxing Christmas with my family. It was wonderful to just have all 8 of us together. December has been full of days on end when we never had all 8 of us sitting down together at the same time, so just eating breakfast together on Christmas morning was a gift.

One big reason that we haven't had as much family time this month is because my brother Curtis has gotten a job (praise the Lord!) and because of the shift he works, he's gone almost all the time everyone else is home, so it's been a bit sad, and I have thoroughly enjoyed his time off this week!!! Dad had several days off as well, which is always wonderful.

But, as wonderful as family time is, it isn't the reason for Christmas. Celebrating Christ coming to earth is the important thing, and I'm glad for the time set aside to do so.

Do you remember the Christmas story I posted on here? It was intended for the Christmas Carol service at our church, which was supposed to take place the Sunday before Christmas. Because of the 1.5-2' of snow we received that week, though, services were canceled.

That meant we celebrated our Christmas service last night at church! It was very nice - beautiful music, and a good message.

The King's Strings played one song for the service, and I think it went very well. It was fun to play. We did "Go tell it on the Mountain" mixed with another song.

I didn't get very nervous when we played. It's hard to get nervous with that many people up there with you. Besides, we were enjoying what we were doing.

Then it was time for the dramatic reading...which I had written.

That's when I got nervous.

The man chosen to read the piece did a wonderful, wonderful job. He made the words come to life, and I enjoyed listening to him. He made it sound like he was really Joseph. I liked it very much.

But I still was a little nervous. I had written the story to bring God glory and to make people think of Him, yet a small part of me still had some pride, and still cared about what people would think of my writing, so I got nervous.

It's rough, being human. (It's even rougher admitting it.)

But I didn't need to be worried. After the service many people came up to me and told me they had been blessed by the reading. That, of course, blessed me! I was so happy they had been touched.

Just about everyone who talked with me about the story told me that I ought to publish it. Pastor even said that from the pulpit.

It sounded familiar....almost like what my blog readers had said. :) (Doesn't it make you happy to know I was thinking of you at church last night? :)

I keep wondering if God is hinting to me. In fact, I'm seriously considering writing and publishing a collection of these kinds of stories. Will y'all help me pray about that? I think it would make a good project for the New Year.

I have all sorts of project ideas for the New Year. I hope the next few posts I do will be more structured, and focused on some of these ideas. I have several post ideas running through my mind, on topics like:

~ Time Management; multi-tasking in order to redeem our time

~ Clothes; does the way we dress affect the way we act?

~ The role stress plays in our lives

....and etc. I won't tell you everything I'm thinking of. :)

I must run for now. It's a busy Monday here!

More Rambling

Only two days 'til Christmas, and I'm convinced that y'all must be awfully busy because things have been very quiet around this blog as of late. I tell myself that I must not have any readers, but I know better than that. I know you are keeping busy!

I am not exactly bored, either, but things are starting to slow down. I think I'll enjoy my last two days before Christmas very much. :)

In fact, I have enough extra time to think of writing another "rambling" post. ...I wasn't thinking my first one was very exciting, but it was great fun to write, and since I'm not sure y'all have the time to read anything on this blog this week anyway.....why not? :)

You know what I really wish? I wish it was easy to upload pictures onto my computer. I have so many fun scenes from the past weeks that I could share with you! Our almost-2-feet of snow was a lovely fun thing. ...And Heather snapped a cute picture of Lezley and I cutting out Christmas cookies. ...And there are other things I want to show you, too. I haven't even shown you the shirt I made back in late summer!!!

Yikes. How can I call this place The Fruit of Her Hands when I don't even show pictures of my projects? I've got to get better at that.

I wish I could show you the skirt I finished this week! It is a lovely, lovely, grey-and-white wool-y type of fabric. Again, this was from the bags of fabric that were given to me by a wife of Dad's coworker. God is so good to me! I made this skirt for nothing!

It's a 50's style circle skirt...only it's not quite a full circle. But it still has that look of being fitted at the waist and coming out to a lot of fullness at the hem. I debated whether I should make this skirt ankle-length or not, but decided to pull it up six or seven inches. It's amazing what a difference that can make! The skirt went from looking heavy and weighty to being swishy and sporty.

But enough of that. Clothing description is boring without pictures. :) :)

I went shopping this morning with my Dad and two brothers. I'm SO thrilled to have all my shopping done now! I had only two more items to pick up, but my men folk were pretty much doing all their shopping in one trip....two days before Christmas.

I had to laugh. Those dear, sweet guys!

Oh - guess what happened in one of the check-out lines? The cashier noticed my brown corduroy ankle-length skirt and said, "Oh, I love your skirt! Where did you get it?"

"Oh, thank you. I made it." Then, a little shyly; "...I have my own sewing business."

"Really? Here in town? What's it called?"

"I just run it from my home. It's 'Amber's Ambitions.'"

"Amber's Ambitions. Hmm." (Looking at the skirt again.) "It's great. Looks very J.Crew-y."

Amber, smiling; "Thank you."

Maybe I ought to focus more time on making clothing to sell! Have you seen the prices J.Crew charges? :)

Anyway.

It is SO much fun to go shopping with three fellas when you're the only girl along. I certainly feel protected! Walking through the parking lot with Dad and my two bros, (who are all taller than me), I was as care-free as could be.

But it's also fun because the men want your opinion on whether something is "right," and sometimes they need your help to find their way around in the "girly" departments when shopping for sisters or Mom, .....and then they urge you to rush through your shopping. :)

But you know what? I like that about them. I like that my menfolk are menfolk. I like that they are protectors. I like that they want my advice. I like that they care about getting gifts for their womenfolk. I like that they took charge of the shopping trip and knew what they wanted.

Differences are good things. They add spice to life - like speech accents and hair color.

I've been learning lately not to fight against differences so much - not when they aren't important differences. If somebody's wrong about something, that's one thing - 'specially if it's spiritual - but just because somebody likes contemporary home decor, and I like country home decor, I don't have to spend hours trying to convince them to change their tastes. Or if they loooove shopping and I like hiking, I don't need to stress out about it.

Oh.....um, I think I'm going to end this post abruptly. My brother Curtis just came indoors with the news that one of our pets has died, and I don't feel like writing anymore. I'll pop in later to wish you a merry Christmas on Friday. :)

God bless!
Amber

PLEASE!!!!!

I know I posted this last year, but I just HAVE to post this again, for those of you who haven't seen it.

This is an amazing video. You absolutely HAVE to see it.

You trust me, right? You don't think I'd lie to you, do you?

Good.

So watch the movie. It's truly a must-see.

Oh yes....I guess it'd be nice of me to explain the content. I'm just afraid that I won't do it justice.

Let's just say this video brings God glory by reminding me just how BIG He is. And it uses the stars to prove it. In particular, the star of Bethlehem. Did you ever wonder wha -

...Oh bother. I give up. I can't say it big enough.

I could say it's amazing, but that's not quite right. I could say stunning, but that's not right either. I could say it makes hair stand up on my neck...that's be closer, but still incomplete. I could say it makes me weep with sheer wonder, and that's even closer.

Please, please, PLEASE watch this. It won't be wasted time, I assure you. I only posted the first part here on The Fruit of Her Hands. To see the remaining parts, you'll have to follow the link at the bottom. Be sure to watch the extra part at the end of the movie....the story of the stars didn't end at Bethlehem; they proclaimed the gospel even at the day Christ died. I like that part best.








Please, please, please, go HERE to see the rest. That link will take you to part 2, and from there you can find the rest (part 3, 4, 5, etc.). Enjoy!

We're snowed in!!!

As the old song says, "it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!" ...If you equate snow with snow with Christmas, that is.

We like that song I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas. The only problem is, here in southern Virginia, a white Christmas would not be "just like the ones I used to know." I've known only a few white Christmases in my life, and they were just barely white. But we like the song anyway.

And we just might get a white Christmas this year.

I must gasp for just a few sentences about the weather here. We have over a FOOT of snow! More like 2 feet, now, probably. The snow started late yesterday afternoon, and it hasn't stopped since. I think that's a record. I can never remember it snowing for that long in my life!

Our local "snow brigade," (such as it is), is understandably unprepared for such a dump of snow. Only main roads have been plowed, and all of us who live on roads that aren't highways are basically stuck. We probably would have had our road plowed by now if it had stopped snowing, but I'm sure the continuing snow is keeping the snowplows busy just on the highways and main roads.

My sisters and I went out for some sledding this afternoon. Our little slope in the backyard would make our Northern cousins laugh, but we enjoy any slide that is faster than a walk. The snow is dusty - not packing snow - and works pretty good for sledding! I broke our brand-new toboggan, (the one Dad specifically went out and bought for this snowfall), by sledding over the woodpile, but that's another story. Sigh.

Ahem.

But snow wasn't what I was thinking of when I said it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. We've finally decorated our home for Christmas! (Please don't ask. We're almost always this late. It's just the way we do our Christmas decorating. :) Our tree, though it isn't real this year, looks lovely, the snowman candles grin cheerfully, and the garland-wrapped floor lamp sparkles. I can hardly believe it is Christmas time again.

Many good things happened yesterday! Christmas isn't allowed to pass without our making Christmas cookies, and because we've been sick, we hadn't made any yet, but yesterday afternoon my sisters and I rolled out the first batch of cookie dough for this season.

Our special cream-cheese Christmas cookie dough recipe.

Lezley said it best; I had made the dough earlier that day, because it needed to chill, and when I told her that it was finally time to roll out the dough and cut our cookies, she jumped up and down and spun toward the kitchen. "Oh goody - now we get to eat Christmas cookie dough!"

She paused in mid-spin and looked back at me. "That's the best part, you know; that's what it's for."

I couldn't help laughing....because I agree with her. :)

We had the radio playing all afternoon while I was in the kitchen. At first it was just Mom and I, working on supper preparations before doing the cookies with all the girls in the house. The station had Christmas music playing continuously, and although they had a few modern Christmas songs thrown in (I find them a bit annoying) there were lots and lots of goodies!

I love old music. I love voices from the 50's. I love big old bands and orchestras, like on The Lawrence Welk Show. And we got to hear plenty of that. I got to hear songs I recognize and love, but don't know all the words to, like Walking in a Winter Wonderland, It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!, and Let it Snow! The swirling snowflakes outside the window, the cheerful atmosphere of hard work inside, and Mom's laughter and smile made my heard sing.

Then it was time to cut out cookies, and I fetched my younger sisters. We switched off the radio and put in a new Christmas CD from our dear lovely friends, The Neely Team.

There was a lot of good conversation and laughter and smiles and eating while we worked. Some of the old cookie cutters I was working with brought back memories of many Christmases past, even way back to when Mom had to help me cut the cookies. Tiffany, was talking about how she's starting to realize more and more the true meaning of Christmas. Lezley was busy helping me by passing me whatever I needed, in between cutting out her own cookies.

A little while later, the noise in the kitchen had died down. Mom and my younger sisters had left the kitchen, the cookies were all cut out, and I remained alone in the kitchen, to rotate the cookies in and out of the oven.

I was very happy. Very content. Very Christmas-y feeling. (Very full, too. :))

The CD player started to play one of my favorite songs on the CD, All is Well. It's a plaintive melody, but full of hope at the same time.

I knelt down to fetch something from a low drawer.

I heard the words, drifting along through the high and sweet tune; "...our God is pleased with man to dwell. Be still my soul; all is well!"

I just stopped where I was, and let that thought sink into my mind. I felt tears in my eyes.

Our God is pleased.

With man to dwell.

Emanuel.

God with us.

The evening had just gone from great to wonderful.

Joseph's Account

Well, last year during December I thought an awful lot about Mary. This year, my mind is more curious about Joseph. (Though, I admit, I'm still pretty interested in Mary - I just read through that post I wrote last year, and my imagination is whirling again!)

My interest in Joseph could have something to do with the fact that I was asked to write something about Christmas, and my Dad suggested looking at it through Joseph's eyes.

But I'd better start at the beginning.

You see, we have a candlelight service at our church every year on the Sunday night before Christmas. (Well, we call it "candlelight," but because of so many accidents with hot wax in past years we've left out the candles for several years now.) Most of the evening is filled with music; both instrumental and congregational, as well as special singing sometimes. The service is closed with a short message from Pastor. Every year, something is read aloud mid-way through the service. Sometimes it's the Christmas story, from one of the gospels. Other years we hear the story behind one of the Christmas hymns we've sung. Or a moving account of a past Christmas in history, during a war time or something like that.

This year, the father-daughter team who puts together our Christmas Service schedule came to me and asked me to write a short story based on one of the people who was present at the first Christmas. I was thrilled because this gave me an excuse to write another Bible-based story. I've written a couple of those here on my blog. There's my post about Mary, which I already mentioned...and the one about the Prodigal Son...there's the story about Paul and Silas, too, but I left y'all hanging on that one, with the phrase "to be continued." :) :)

I love, love, LOVE that kind of writing. I mean, I just plain love to write anyway, but that kind of writing is my absolute favorite. It reaches down and pulls stuff up from deep inside me. Something about the stories in the Bible inspires me. I hope you don't mind when I let that inspiration take over and write those stories on here occasionally, instead of storing them in my "sheet files" folder on my desktop.

I don't think y'all mind. If you do, you hide it very well. You have only ever been kind and encouraging when leaving me comments. It is with that in mind I have decided to share with you the story I've written for our Christmas Service. I hope it makes you think as much as it made me think! :)

Love,
Amber

Joseph's Account

Mary was with child.

I couldn't – wouldn't – believe it until Mary herself, unshed tears in her eyes, assured me it was true. We had just finished the evening meal (I often ate with her family in those days) and had been reclining comfortably as we talked. I was unaware of the spear that was about to be thrust into my life.

Mary's lips trembled as she spoke, but her voice was determined. She said she was the mother of the Messiah, and that God Himself had put the child in her womb. She even said the child she carried was the Son of God.

How could I believe such a thing? Her father shook his head as he sat there behind her. If such a tale were true, would not he and her mother know it? It was very unlike Mary to have this far-fetch explanation. ...Yet it was also unlike her to be with child when she was betrothed.

How could Mary do such a thing? Hadn't she breathed out numerous pledges of love to me? Had she not treated all other men with gracious disinterest? We already had plans for the wedding. She had seemed so happy and content. Surely this situation was not her fault. Someone else...? I lifted my face to ask her the question, but her voice was tearful as she insisted there was no one else.

I left her home that night wanting to dash my head against a stone wall. Why did she persist in this wild tale? If only she would break down and admit to everything, it would be so much easier to forgive her.

My strained mind was already searching for a plan. I still had time to break the betrothal without explaining the real reason to our friends and neighbors. There were still a few more months before Mary would be unable to keep her secret.

“God of our fathers, help me!” I pleaded even as I hurried home. “What am I to do?” The scribes would say the law demanded Mary's death, but now-a-days that old law was rarely enforced – only when the husband or betrothed pressed charges. My heart knew I could do no such thing to the woman I had loved.

Did I still love her? My heart screamed yes, but my fists clenched as I thought of her. Then I thought that surely it was not her fault, and I felt no anger - only hopelessness. There was no easy way out of this problem, and I clung to Jehovah God as the only sure thing in my world at that moment.

Several days passed before I made my decision; I would put Mary away quietly. Breaking our betrothal was the only thing to be done. I could not bring myself to have her publicly accused, and yet I could not bring myself to marry her.

I did not tell anyone about my decision. Not yet. It was still too painful. I avoided her family, but I saw Mary's face in all my thoughts. She was there, in my mind, when I worked in the shop. I dreamed of Mary every night.

Every night, that is, until the night he was there, in my dream.

As a little boy I had always wished I had been born during King David's time, as one of his mighty men. I loved to pretend I was a mighty warrior. But never had I imagined any warrior as mighty as the being who was in my dream that night. His splendor and brightness took my breath from my lungs and I was left speechless. His voice resonated deep into my mind;
“Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife; for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call His name JESUS: for He shall save his people from their sins.”

I woke with a start, breathing heavily. My palms were damp with sweat. So it was true! The idea of doubting that messenger never entered my head. I don't think anyone could have seen him and doubted.

At first, all I could think about was that I could take Mary. He had said so! The LORD would not be angry with me. I ached to see her and tell her I believed her story at last.

But then I shook myself further awake and realized where that child in her womb had come from. For a moment I forgot to breathe. Shivers ran down my spine. After thousands of years of promises, Jehovah God was finally sending the Messiah! What was more, apparently the Messiah was no mere mighty man, as the Pharisees would have us think. He was divine. I could not quite wrap my mind around that thought.

But I understood one thing; I could see Mary again. I sprang to the window and was filled with joy to see the sun was rising. Ten minutes later I was breathlessly entering her father's house and saying, “Mary, I believe you!”

The next six months were filled with every emotion God has given to man. In my first joy at having Mary back, I had not thought about all the difficulties we would face.

First we had to convince her parents that I truly wished to wed her and raise this child as my own. Then the whispers started – my customers in the shop talked to one another behind my back, and dropped vague hints to my face. I had always held a reputation of being an honorable and just man, and I think many of my customers were confused that I stuck by Mary, even in her situation. I tried to explain, but I don't think they really believed what I told them.

Mary and I had so many decisions to make. God was finally sending the Promised One! Such thrilling news I had hoped to hear in my lifetime, yet now it was much more personal than I ever thought it would be. It was also much more intimidating. Should I teach him my trade of carpentry, as if he were my true son? What would this Messiah be like, anyway? What were we expected to do with him? There was a moment of pain when I thought that I would not be able to name him my own name, as I had always wished to name my first son.

“But he isn't your firstborn,” Mary said gently. That always made my brain ache with awe, because it made me remember whose son that baby was.

It was hard, finding a balance. Some days I thought of the unborn baby as my own. Other days he was a stranger – and a very intimidating stranger at that.

During the very last month our situation was made worse by the journey we were forced to take. I worried about Mary. I muttered under my breath a few times, wishing to call our Ceasar all sorts of names, but I kept quiet and focused on helping Mary as much as I could. It was some consolation to remember we would be seeing the city of David again.

The place was packed when we arrived. It was all I could do to find us lodging in the stable of the inn – and I was charged ridiculously high for even that. But I didn't care; Mary was exhausted and I just wanted a place for her to lie down.

It was late that night I awoke to her nudging. Things had happened so quickly after that....and yet so slowly.

And then, there I was; leaning against the wall of the stable while the old innkeeper's daughter tended to Mary. A sudden cat-like wail of a baby filled the stall next to me, and my feet slipped out from under me in my hurry to stand up.

In a moment I was rounding the corner of the stall and on my knees next to Mary. The inn keeper's daughter was tending to the baby, using the swaddling clothes I had managed to find three hours ago. I grasped Mary's hand, but couldn't take my eyes off the child.

He was a perfectly formed little human. So very human. When the woman finished with him and handed him to Mary, I still had not found words to speak. The little one cried just like every baby I had even seen, and snuggled next to his mother so very naturally. It was hard to think he could possibly be divine. Yet the memory of the angel came back to me to assure me that this child was indeed divine – the Savior of our people.

Mary had quieted him, and she looked up at me. “Do you want to hold him?” she asked.

I held out my arms and took him in them. He was so light. So tiny.

“...And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call His name JESUS: for He shall save his people from their sins.” The angel's voice rang in my head.

“Jesus,” I spoke his name to him for the first time. I wanted to tell him how we had waited and waited for him to be there, but I just kept looking at him.

To think, that I had the Son of God in my hands....and was responsible for raising him. I didn't feel equal to the task.

But then the little eyes fluttered open, and Jesus looked at me.

And I knew that the years he spent in our home would be the very best years of my life.

Crabtree Falls

This week most families across America dealt with school starting. Frantic efforts to get back on schedule and dig into bookwork was the norm, I expect.

Not so with our family.

Nope. While the rest of the world stressed out, we've taken a vacation. Yesterday and today, my dad had two days off work, and we've squeezed as much memory-packing into two days as we could.

Yesterday was spent around the house, with a busy morning and afternoon of canning in the kitchen for me, but oh such a fun evening! We intended to camp that night at a campsite, but we ladies were exhausted from our day in the kitchen, so our menfolk generously settled for a relaxing evening at home. Dad grilled some delicious burgers on his new (to us) grill for supper - which was yummy. Then everyone got out their instruments and filled the house with music.

That's always fun. ...Even if we are playing three different songs at the same time! Mom pleasantly surprised me by doing supper dishes for me (it was my turn) while all the commotion was going on. That alone made for a great evening for me!

Then Dad and I made some popcorn that, though I say it myself, was fabulous. Dad popped the corn in a big pot on the stove, while I melted butter and cheese to pour on when it was done. We lounged in the living room and watched some good old-fashioned black and white tv shows while we ate it.

Then we headed out to the backyard and roasted marshmallows over glowing coals and sang songs 'til late. Is there anything quite like the crispy sweetness of a 'mallow roasted to perfection? Is there anything like family voices blending together under the stars with a sweetness that makes you want to cry? Is there anything like watching firelight bounce and play with shadows on the faces of the seven people you hold most dear? Is there anything like strolling away from the fire, holding hands, looking up at the stars, and singing to the Lord together...alone? Is there anything like that?

It was a lovely evening. Even though it was so late when I hit the sack that I woke up tired today. It was worth it!!!!

Today we ate a quick breakfast (remind me to share that amazing blueberry-banana muffin recipe on here sometime!) before heading out. Dad and Mom were taking us hiking at Crabtree falls - the longest falls on the east coast.

It was worth the long drive. The beauty there took my breath away! And of course just being with my family all day long was great. I had some special heart-to-heart talks with several siblings as we hiked.

But by now I'm sure you're weary of my chatter, so I'll let the pictures some talking for me: (aren't you proud of me for including so many photos in one post? :):):)

These aren't in any particular order. This pic. was taken on the way down from the falls (we hiked from the bottom up). Justin thought it was fun to hide ahead on the trail, and jump out and scare me, who happened to be last in line. :):):) It worked, too!

This was on the way up. You can't see it, but the falls are really close to this stairway. Crabtree falls isn't one big "fall," but a loooooong trail of little ones. We were within sound, if not sight, of it during the whole hike (about 3 hours). I kept saying I want stairways like this in my house someday!!!! I love twisting stairways...and with a waterfall next to it? LOVELY!

Oh yes - pictures of the fall. I ought to include that, huh? *giggle* These are my lovely parents at one of the more level spots on the trail. (I'm not doing too good at cutting out the chatter, am I?)

We finally made it to the top! It was a very steep climb, and we were all glad to sit at the top in the cool breeze and feast our eyes on the beauty up there. Some nearby rocks presented the perfect spot for some pictures....

...I love my siblings!
(LtoR: Justin, Lezley, Tiffany, Heather, me, Curtis)

And because we like to be goofy once in awhile....

This picture of my older sis and me gives you a better look at the view:

And on the way back down we stopped at a few more places for pictures:

Hope you enjoyed this brief glimpse into my day. I'm going to bed tired tonight, but happy.

I'm wistful, too. I can't help thinking what a lovely thing family is, but also how temporary it is. I can't hold on to my family forever - someday we will all have families of our own, Lord willing. We will always love one another, but things won't stay the same as they are now. My little siblings won't stay little. We won't always live in one house.

Sometimes it's hard to love so much. Sometimes it's hard to be so close. ...But somehow it's worth it. I wouldn't want to lose the pleasures of today because of fear of tomorrow. Sometimes I am afraid to love, because I am afraid to lose. But that's no way to live.

I've chosen to love with all of myself, and leave the future to the Lord. He is more than able to take care of it. He is more than able to give me the grace to grow with changing circumstances and not only adapt, but thrive. Isn't He good?

I've had fresh proof of His goodness lately. I've been wondering how to share this with y'all....Somehow it didn't want to come out right.

Psalm 20:6 says "Now know I that the LORD saveth his anointed; he will hear him from his holy heaven with the saving strength of his right hand." I like that phrase; "Now I KNOW..." There's something about experiencing God's grace for yourself, instead of just "knowing" it's there for when you need it someday.

I've always been afraid of the time when my siblings and I start to grow up and start our separate lives. I knew we'd still love one another, but things would be...different. I wouldn't like it. I knew I wouldn't like it. I was very afraid.

But fear doesn't freeze time.

Things have come.

I've now faced - and begun to conquer - what I feel is the beginning of "growing up and out." To be honest, it's been such a deep, inner, struggle that I haven't written about it here at The Fruit of Her Hands. But now I have tried God's grace and found it true. It has held me. And so I want to tell you: God will come through!

Joy, Plants, and Patrick Henry

Tomato plants (near 8 feet tall!) Heather is standing.

"I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God, for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels.
For as the earth bringeth forth her bud, and as the garden causeth the things that are sown in it to spring forth; so the Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all the nations." Isaiah 61:10-11

Me with our beet harvest. The herb bed is behind me on the left, and behind me on the right you can see the zucchini plant leaves.

And one more, because I can't resist. This is my over-6-foot-tall brother next to the tomato plants. These pictures were taken awhile ago. The plants are taller now. The corn you see in the foreground is bearing ears that are ready to be picked!

It's not just the dirt. It's not just the plants. There's something about a garden that invites God to speak to your heart. I know not everyone gets "in" to gardening, but I can't help that. I really think there's something to be said for the fact that God put the first man and woman in a garden. I can't explain it, but there's something about a garden that makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time. Some of my happiest hours are spent there.

Now you know why my posts aren't coming as regularly. :)

No, actually, I can't give that excuse. Summer in general is my time-thief, and yours as well, I'm sure. I hope y'all had a lovely Independence Day on Saturday.

Does anyone know where I can find an online copy of the speech Patrick Henry gave to the signers of the Declaration of Independence, just before they placed their names on that historic document? I heard it read for the first time in church yesterday, and it moved me to tears.

If such a speech, decked with references to the Almighty, and dripping with love for freedom and fellowman, read aloud 230-some years after it was spoken, can create the response it did yesterday in our church building, I can't imagine the way it moved hearts in the hour Henry cried it. I would love to share it here, but I don't know where to find it. Can any of you help me?