New Year's Resolution: No More Fear!

Copyright 2011: singeronthesand photography

So do not fear, for I am with you,

Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10
 

I have been a very fearful individual for as far back as I can remember into my early childhood.  I am afraid of heights, somewhat afraid of the dark, afraid of strangers, afraid of what others think of me, afraid to make a mistake, and most of all, afraid to strive forward and just DO something, because I have such a fear of failure.  I am always so afraid that what I want to do will be deemed unworthy by others.  Nowhere is this clearer than with my photography.

I have always loved taking pictures, but have never owned a decent camera, much less a professional one.  This all changed three years ago when I treated myself to a semester of classes at a local Arts school, and bought myself a Canon 40D SLR camera, with 50mm, 28-135mm, and 70-250mm lenses.  Almost immediately, photography became an overwhelming passion.  I have no interest in portrait or studio photography, only in nature photography (and the occasional human being photos of my kids, etc.).  Animals, birds, flowers, trees, skies, landscape – these are the bread and butter of what I love to shoot.  Today, my trusty camera and I are taking a short jaunt to the Norfolk Botanical Gardens for a few hours of photographic joy.  I can hardly wait!

A year ago, the idea came to me of building a storefront for my photographs on the Etsy online crafts market.  I joined the site, chose a name [SingerontheSand Fine Arts Photography], and built the shell of my store at www.singeronthesand.etsy.com. A year later, there has been no progress at all.  I have not put up any photographs for sale, or developed the site beyond what I initially posted.  Why?  Ah – good question.  It is definitely not because I don’t have pictures to post.  No, it is because I am afraid:  afraid that I will not do things right, afraid that customers will not like my photographs, afraid that if I do sell one that the customer won’t like it when they receive it.  In other words, I am afraid that I am not good enough and/or that I will do something wrong. So I stall, and stall, and stall.

God has gently nudged me in the last few months.  A friend gave me a stack of various colors and sizes of matting left over from her deceased husband’s camera collection.  Last week, another friend told me about a gallery display in a local nursing home where I might want to place/sell my pictures.  Yesterday I made the decision:  2012 will be the Year of the Photograph, the year when I take God at His promise to deal with my fears, relying on His strength and wisdom to help me move forward.  Is there something in your life that you are afraid of doing?  Join me in claiming God’s promise given through Isaiah: Don’t fear; move forward, for I am here to help and sustain you.

 

New Year's Resolution: NO Gluten!

Copyright 2011:  singeronthesand photography

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud 

of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders 

and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run 

with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Hebrews 12:1

Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?  For many people, the very thought of them brings a chuckle and a smile, for who in the world keeps those resolutions anyway?  I resolve to start tomorrow to not eat so much.  I resolve starting tomorrow to go to the gym every day. I resolve this year to take more time to enjoy life, rather than constantly trying to snatch the brass ring.  I resolve… I resolve… I resolve…

I am gluten-intolerant – a condition that I wish I did not have, but most certainly do.  If I eat anything that has gluten in it, I can (will) become one sick puppy. Last night was just such an occasion.  On Christmas Eve, I had convinced myself, yet again, that it wouldn’t hurt me to eat one little cheese bun (does it ever stop at just one?), and Sunday morning, the world was still beautiful and my tummy was fine.  Fast forward to Tuesday evening.  The gluten portion of my meal (far more than one bun) was not digesting, and slowly ground to a stop in my system.  Everything I ate from then on was only semi-digested, and just backed up behind the gluten.  When the situation reached critical mass last night (full stomach), the pain that resulted from a digestive tract full of rotten food was beyond description.  Not a pretty picture?  No, indeed.  Bet I’ll never do that again?  You have no idea…

I have done this to myself so many times I have long since lost count (at one point landing in the Emergency Room four times in eight weeks).  Dumb?  You’d better believe it!  But oh, so human.  Day always follows night, one plus one is always two, and I will always get sick, to one degree or another, if I ingest gluten.  Plain and simple. Why, then, is it so easy for me to say, “This time it will be different!”  Or, perhaps more pointedly, “This time I can get away with it.” 

Notice in the second paragraph of this blog, I said, “If I eat gluten, I can get sick? It is always an afterthought – sometimes far after, for me to say “…WILL get sick.”  The Bible says, “The heart is deceitful above all things…”  That is certainly true in my case.

So my #1 New Year’s resolution for 2012 is:  DO NOT eat gluten of any kind.  This time, however, I think it is high time to lay this burden at God’s feet and say, “This is a day-by-day, moment-by-moment battle that I cannot possibly win on my own.  I really need Your help – today, tomorrow, and every other day!  I covet your prayers for my human weakness.  I do not know your New Year’s resolutions, but I will pray that you will hand the really important ones over to the One who has the power to empower you.   

Gifts of Love

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above…

James 1:17a

I think part of the reason I love Christmas so much is the opportunity to give gifts to those I love.  This year I decided to give gifts in “sets.”  All three of my daughters plus one friend and one boyfriend received winter scarves, a favorite book, and a small gift card to their favorite store.  In addition, each daughter received a large “picture”:  the oldest and youngest were given their college diplomas appropriately framed, and my middle daughter received a framed portrait drawn by a Central Park street artist when she was a teenager.  Knowing that those three gifts would be a complete surprise was half the fun of giving them. 

Beginning in September, I went through all the endless boxes of pictures of the girls – photographed individually, together, and as a full family – and chose 800 of them that I felt were the best of the lot.  I had three Groupons for a California company—Scan Digital, and shipped them the pictures mid-November.  Just in time for Christmas, I received back cd’s of the photographs – one for each child, their father, and me.  Again, the surprise of the gift was a huge portion of the joy of giving.

I am quite positive that the last possible thing on Mary and Joseph’s minds was the thought of them receiving gifts at the birth of their son: housed in the squalor of an animal pen, giving birth in the rank dankness of mud and straw, bundling the baby in strips of cloth and laying Him in a feeding trough.  The arrival of the shepherds would not have been a huge surprise – they were common people like themselves, roused from their duties by shimmering angels.  After living in the town of Bethlehem for almost two years, this couple would not have dreamed of having visitors – especially not the likes of royal magi from the East.  The gifts, however unexpected, were needed and greatly appreciated by the parents of the Messiah.  In the coming days, when their flight to Egypt became an urgent necessity, Mary and Joseph had the means to make that journey possible and immediate.  

The Gift of Myrrh

Cammiphora myrrha tree.  Photo courtesy of Wikipedia.

…and when they had opened their treasures,

They presented unto Him gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Matthew 2:11

I have a skin condition called psoriasis, an autoimmune disease that causes the buildup of plaques on the skin from a sped-up process of skin cell growth.  Characterized by red and white plaques on the skin, it is disfiguring, as well as a health concern with increased stroke risk and the possibility of developing psoriatic arthritis.  Doctors do not know why the disease happens, there is no viable “cure,” and many of the medications used to treat the condition have multiple side effects that are destructive to other parts of the body.  Over the 35+ years that I have had this condition, scores of well-meaning friends have offered the latest in “natural” cures for psoriasis.  I have yet to find one that is truly effective to alleviate the disease.

Myrrh – the third gift that was given by the Magi to the newborn King, is a sap resin similar to frankincense, taken from the Commiphora myrrha tree.  The resin gum quickly dried, enabling it to be carried easily.  Myrrh is widely used medicinally, and is thought by some to be the “Balm of Gilead” mentioned in scripture.  Perhaps the magi thought that they would give the little family a traveling first aid kit that would enable them to treat minor scrapes and scratches that their little boy would incur.

In biblical times, however, myrrh was also used as a main ingredient in embalming “spices” or ointment, and was often burned as incense at funerals or cremations.  Perhaps the magi gave a gift that was representative of death – the death on the cross that was to be the future of the infant Messiah.  What motivated the eastern kings to give these three particular gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh – will never truly be known.  Perhaps the most we will ever know is that these men who beheld the ancient star felt propelled to follow it to the birthplace of “the King of the Jews.”  When they arrived, they offered Him their gifts to ease His way in the world, and then knelt to worship, offering Him their allegiance. 

The Gift of Frankincense

Boswellia sacra tree from which frankincense is extracted.

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia 2011

…and when they had opened their treasures,

They presented unto Him gifts: gold, frankincense…

Matthew 2:11

I love things that smell pretty.  I like to smell incense burning, but don’t like to actually burn the stuff – slow, messy, etc.  I love scented candles – as long as the scent is pleasing (which many are not) and the candle wax does not get in the way of the wick burning!  When we opened presents on Christmas Eve, I was thrilled to find two wonderful candles that my daughters had purchased in Massachusetts during our Thanksgiving holiday.  One is called Winter Cabin and is the most amazing spicy scent mixed with fresh Christmas tree and a hint of wood-burning fires (trust me, it really does smell like that).  The other is `Tis the Season, with apples, cinnamon, and fresh pine. The vegetable wax liquefies as it burns, then reforms to a no mess, no fuss 3-wick candle.  Delightful!

Frankincense is a highly scented resin obtained from the bark of the Boswellia sacra tree.  The resin is used in perfumes and incense.  The tree is capable of growing literally anywhere – sometimes growing directly out of solid rock.  One of the early depictions of frankincense trading is found in a mural that adorns the walls of the temple of Egyptian Queen Hatshepsut, who died in 1458BC.  Although mostly burned, frankincense is also edible, and has been used in medicinal preparation, particularly in the medical practices of India.

As with so many other things in our world today, the trees that produce frankincense resin are endangered due to over-exploitation.  In biblical times, however, they were abundant and the substance could be obtained if one had the funds to pay the price.  The magi from the east would have had ready access to frankincense, and added a container of the dried resin as one of the gifts they brought for the newborn King. The resin was burned as incense, both in the home and in worship.  In the home, it would have been the Yankee Candle of their day.  In the tabernacle, the incense was burned on the Altar of Incense in the Holy Place.  The rising smoke and fragrance were symbols of the prayers of both priest and people rising to God in heaven. 

 The dried resin of frankincense

Gift of Gold

…and when they had opened their treasures,

They presented unto Him gifts: gold…

Matthew 2:11

When my father died in February, and then my mother passed away in May, the terms of my parents’ wills left the dispersal of the estate in my hands.  I took the month of July off from work, flew to Phoenix and, with the help of my brothers, began the liquidation process of their physical assets. 

When Dad officially retired, he started each day with a very long walk, usually over to the parking lot surrounding the old Phoenix Coliseum, carrying a large black garbage bag to hold the empty soda cans he would collect.  His eagle eye searched every inch of that huge parking lot, discovering money (placed in a pants’ pocket) and other small treasures (placed in the other pocket).  When he arrived back home, he would put the bag of cans in the shop, place the money in a container in the kitchen, and toss any small treasures into the middle left-hand drawer of the huge desk sitting in the corner of the family room.

My father, a product of the Great Depression, had built the addition to our family home with evaporative cooling as the main means of comfort during the summer months.  If you know anything about swamp coolers at all, you realize that in the 100+ degree temperatures of a Phoenix summer, they are capable of producing no cooling at all.  What they do provide is an abundance of indoor dust – not simply on top of every available surface, but sifting inside doors and drawers as well.  Dad’s desk sat directly under the cooling vent, and the dusting process of many years had produced a 2-3 inch base of dirt in the bottom of the drawers.

On a hot, sticky July morning, I sat down to empty out that desk, filled with a lifetime of my father’s quirks and treasures.  When I reached the middle left-hand drawer, I pulled out old clocks and cameras, a couple packs of playing cards, restaurant flyers, tiny children’s toys, paper clips, several undetermined gizmos, and a dead bug or two.  When all the “valuables” were removed, I lifted the drawer to pour the dirt into a waiting garbage receptacle.  The dust shifted a bit, and a stray shaft of sunlight caught a slight glimmer in the muck.  I dug through the dirt and pulled out a gorgeous ring.

Whenever or wherever my father found the ring, it had absolutely no business in his “useless treasure” drawer.  It is an ornate cocktail ring that Dad might have mistaken for a cheap piece of costume jewelry.  The weight of the ring in the hand tells a much different story, however.  It is 14K gold [565 hallmark], with a center oval-cut blue sapphire, six marquise-cut blue sapphires (3 on each side of the center oval) surrounded by ten minute diamonds.  It is breathtaking, and one of my most cherished possessions.

The gold that the Magi brought to present to the baby Jesus was given to recognize His position as King of the Jews.  It was and is a wonderful gift for anyone, but was especially appropriate for royalty.  This gift of gold was from one king to another – from the ruler of an earthly kingdom to the Creator of the Universe.                                              

Christmas Day 2011

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

We have seen His glory, the glory of the One and Only,

who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John 1:14

“His name shall be Wonderful.” This Babe for whom

even in village inns, there was no room!

The lowing of cattle was His lullaby,

though caroling angels were thronging the sky.

“His name shall be Wonderful.”  This Carpenter,

known from His childhood by each villager?

“His name shall be Wonderful.”  Spat upon, shamed,

tortured and crucified – how is He named

Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,

He who one dark day Golgotha’s road trod?

His name shall be Wonderful—Jesus, God’s Son!

God’s Word has promised, and it shall be done!

Not meek and lowly, despised among men,

this same Lord Jesus is coming again

With clouds and great glory, to reign here below,

and all men shall praise Him, and each knee shall bow.

From ocean to ocean His name shall be heard,

wonderful name of our wonderful Lord.

-Martha Snell Nicholson

Merry Christmas!

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Copyright 2011: Jack Scheper - Floridata.com

The Jesus said to them,

“Watch out!  Be on your guard against all kinds of greed;

A man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.

Luke 12:15

A few months ago, I attended a very vigorous aerobic workout after months of relative inactivity, and was rewarded with a piri-formis muscle injury with related pain in the IT band of my left leg.  After several weeks of physical therapy, I discovered that my pain almost disappeared if I wore my Nike athletic shoes instead of flip-flops or “flat” flats!  I wear Nike Air-Walks for exercise, and a few weeks ago, decided to wear them all the time.  My old shoes were pretty well worn, however – long past the “every six months buy a new pair” time schedule.  The only store in my area still regularly selling Air Walk's is Famous Footwear.  Fortunately,  the local store had my size, and I was able to purchase the shoes without incident--the store's Thanksgiving weekend sale considerably lowering the cost.  My new Nike's are very comfortable, and my piri-formis greatly appreciates my efforts to wear supportive shoes.

Yesterday, Nike released its newest model of the Air Jordan basketball shoe, and the resulting frenzy included vandalism, fights, rioting, pepper spray, and arrests across the country as shopper literally fought to obtain a pair of the new shoes.  At two different locations in Seattle, over a thousand people showed up for the 150 pairs of the $180 shoes that were available.  A young man was stabbed in New Jersey, a mother left her 2- and 5-year-olds in the car in order to line up for the mall opening, customers in Georgia broke down the doors of the mall, gun shots rang out at a California location, and others in Ohio and Michigan forced their way into malls in hopes of scoring a pair of shoes. In Washington D.C., three people are dead, including a delivery truck driver who was stabbed to death, and an 18-year-old girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. For some, these Nike's were a collector’s acquisition; for most, they were a source of instant status.

This is the season of the year when our thoughts (hopefully) turn outward instead of inward – reaching out to family, friends and those who are much less fortunate (no matter your personal circumstance, there is always someone worse off than you are).  Giving is the very best antidote for the constant need of getting. 

Death at Christmastime

Photo Courtesy of CNN Online News; Copyright 2011 CNN

When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the

Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in

Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under,

in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning,

Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted,

because they are no more.

Matthew 2:16-18

Last weekend, Tropical Storm Washi swept across the lower Philippines, setting off landslides and flash floods that swept away entire villages.  A total of 1,080 people are unaccounted for, including many children.  Pictures of the missing are posted everywhere in the region, with the faint hope that someone will unexpectedly turn up safe somewhere.  At almost the same time last Friday, two suicide bombers killed over 40 people inside/outside a security services building in Damascus, Syria.  Yesterday, 14 bombs went off throughout the capital city of Baghdad, killing at least 70 people and injuring over 200.

Violent deaths around Christmastime are nothing new – the first one occurred approximately two years after the birth of the Christ Child, when the Magi showed up in Jerusalem, following the star that had led them from the East to the Palestinian territories.  Their visit alerted King Herod to the birth of the foretold Messiah, and he made a deal with the Magi to return to him with the exact location of the child.  When they went home by a different direction, having been warned by God not to return to Jerusalem, Herod went on a rampage, ordering his soldiers to murder every male child two years old and younger throughout the entire village of Bethlehem and the surrounding countryside.  Joseph and Mary, however, had taken their newborn son and, at the direction of an angel messenger, fled to Egypt. 

 

Star Light, Star Bright

Photo courtesy of HubbleSite online

I shall see Him, but not now;

I shall behold Him, but not near.

A star shall rise out of Judah…

Number 24:17

I grew up in Phoenix, Arizona, where cloudy skies are a rare occurrence.  Every evening, the azure skies of daytime gave way to the blackness of night.  That palette of inky darkness was the perfect background for thousands upon thousands of twinkling stars – solo stars, comets, shooters, and fascinating constellations.  I can remember lying on my back on the front sidewalk, staring up into the brilliant night, repeating my favorite childhood verse:

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,

I wish I may, I wish I might

Have the wish I wish tonight.

As I grew older, that sky became, for me, God’s gorgeous office.  Visiting hours were 24/7, there was never a time when He wasn’t “in,” and I could talk to him about anything and everything.  Grumble, rejoice, cry, yell – every emotional voice burst forth at one time or another, pouring out with complete confidence that my joy/misery/complaint was heard, and my honesty appreciated.  Picturing God in that vast dome (morning or evening) was and is my favorite way to pray.

During the Christmas season, I often think about the star that illuminated the birthplace of the Christ Child and eventually led the magi to Bethlehem.  Was it a new planet?  A specially created star?  Haley's Comet?  A huge grouping of brilliant angels?  Whatever made up its composition, it was used by God to announce to the world the birth of the Savior. 

O Christmas Tree - Part II

The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,

they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon.

Psalm 92:12

Fortunately for the sofa, and my peace of mind, there was a door to the side porch right next to the Christmas tree.  Grabbing an old quilt from the linen closet, my husband quickly wrapped the tree in it (decorations and all), yelled at my youngest daughter to grab the base (water and all), and they manhandled our bug-laden beauty out the door, across the porch, over the low brick wall, and onto the grass below.  I directed the other two girls to snatch any/all of the bug spray cans from underneath the kitchen sink.  There were, miraculously, three containers, and while one daughter sprayed the floor and the other sprayed the walls, I hurried downstairs to see if any of the little buggers had made it to the basement (plenty of them).

After the spraying came the scooping up/wiping down of all the little dead carcasses, then scrubbing the hardwood floors to remove as much as possible of the debris, the spray odor, and the very thought of what had happened there.  This was followed by a thorough search of every last nook and cranny in the living room, the doorway, the side porch and the basement for any little visitor that might have been overlooked.  When I was finally satisfied that all were thoroughly vanquished, my daughters and I trooped outside to view our poor stricken tree.  Although the kids wanted to haul it to the dump [lock, stock and barrel], I was a little more practical and began to remove our cherished family decorations, thoroughly cleaning each one before placing them in a bug-free container.

As I trudged back inside, mulling over the morning’s adventures and my newly-clean corner of the living room sans Christmas tree, I was surprised by a flurry of activity in that very spot.  While I was working outside, the kids had brought in a huge corn plant from my bedroom, draped lights from wall to wall over and through the plant, then hooked Christmas decorations from the light cords, and voila!  Our new Christmas tree – a little weird-looking, but totally bug-free.

There are those who write Christmas off as a pagan holiday and refuse to participate in its celebrations.  I feel very sorry for their loss.  It is not the physical symbols of Christmas – lights, trees, decorations, gifts - that hold the meaning of the season: it is the love of family and friends, the gathering together for food and fellowship, the joy of memories past and present, and the return to that first Christmas morning to worship at the cradle of the newborn King.  

O Christmas Tree

He is like a tree, planted by rivers of waters…

Psalm 1:3

Christmastime in the Poulson household meant a fresh, live Christmas tree in the living room, the biggest and best that my father could find – always set up and decorated on the Friday after Thanksgiving.  The woodland perfume of the tree permeated the entire house, and the Christmas lights were on from dusk until bedtime.  We played around the tree, we ate around the tree, and we read and conversed around the tree.  It was the living centerpiece of our Christmas celebrations.

I continued the tree tradition with my own family, always putting up a fresh tree, even if we had to purchase it on Christmas Eve when they were greatly discounted or free.  One Christmas in Lynchburg, we decided to take our daughters out to a Christmas tree farm and choose/cut our own tree.  It was bitterly cold that winter, but we bundled up on a blustery Friday morning and tramped through the snow in the brilliant sunshine, inspecting one tree then another – checking out size and shape like true tree connoisseurs.  The girls finally found the “perfect” specimen; we cut it down, hauled it home, and proceeded to decorate it with all of our family ornaments and treasures.  That evening we lounged around the tree, enjoying the sparkling lights and the warmth of the fireplace.

Saturday morning I was the first one up, and came down the stairs to turn on the tree lights and make some hot chocolate.  My squeal (yell?) of utter dismay woke the entire household.  Four other pairs of slippers thundered down the stairs, only to grind to a halt in the foyer, gazing in disbelief at our Christmas tree in the corner of the living room.  Radiating out from the tree – across the floor, up the walls, down the baseboard cracks – was a moving mass of… bugs!!  Already six feet in circumference on the floor and near the ceiling on the walls, the crawling gnat-size creatures were intent on invading the entire house: the living room sofa only inches away.  [TO BE CONTINUED]

 

Joseph Dear, O Joseph Mine

Photo Courtesy of Internet Search - The Nativity

When they had gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to

Joseph in a dream.  “Get up,” he said, “take the child and

His mother and escape to Egypt.  Stay there until I tell you, for

Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.”

Matthew 2:13

My father and mother had been together for well over 60 years when Mom’s Alzheimer’s completely robbed her of her memory.  In the 69th year of their union, it became obvious that my father could no longer care for her – even with the wonderful help of hospice.  In January of their 70^th year, we moved Mom to a small private care home.  As the wheelchair rolled out the front door of our family home, my father slowly began to die.  Without his life-long companion and his work of taking care of her, he had no more reason to live, and passed away five weeks later.  My parents had been married 69 years, 1 month, and 27 days.

It appears from Scripture that Jesus did not have his earthly father with him for anywhere near that time.  We know that Joseph was there to take his son to Egypt and return him again to Nazareth.  He was an active participant for the trip to Jerusalem when Jesus was twelve years old [Luke 2:41-51], and Scripture records that at the end of that journey, “…He went down to Nazareth with them [his parents] and was obedient to them.”  After that reference, the record is silent about Joseph, until some grumbling Jews inquired, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?”  [John 6:42a]  This incident happened at the beginning of Christ’s ministry, and is the last reference to his stepfather.  Joseph definitely was not alive at the time of the crucifixion, for Jesus gave his mother Mary into the care of the disciple John [John 19:25-27].

It will be seven years this coming February since my father passed away, and I have thought of Dad and missed him every single day.  Because familial ties are some of the strongest emotions on earth, I think that it is reasonable to believe that Jesus thought fondly of the man who raised him after his passing.  At the resurrection, I will be reunited with my precious Clancy, and Jesus will have Joseph with Him again.    

Joseph Song - Part II

Photo Courtesy of Internet Search: The Nativity

Eliud was the father of Eleazar,

Eleazar the father of Matthan,

Matthan the father of Jacob,

And Jacob the father of Joseph,

the husband of Mary,

of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ.

Matthew 1:15-16

My father was very involved in auto racing for most of my childhood, as a driver in stock cars and midgets, then remaining an avid fan, particularly of Indy cars.  I remember summers in rural Indiana – gathering eggs on Uncle Fagan’s farm while the rest of the family was off to the Indianapolis 500.  Clancy was constantly rebuilding airplanes as well – re-ragging the wings and fuselage or taking apart a propeller.  I have many visual memories of my brothers sitting in a race car or an airplane in the backyard, absorbed in watching my father go about his business.  Traffic would often slow to a crawl on Thomas Road as drivers stared in amazement at the tail end of a plane rising far above the oleander hedge.

I think my father influenced me most, however, in my use of the English language.  Dad possessed an amazing wit.  He had a long repertoire of little sayings and clichés that flowed freely through the river of his speech.  If I didn’t do something on time, I was “…a day late and a dollar short.”  Something that was a real bargain cost “…a dollar three ninety-eight.”  When the temperature was over 100 degrees outside, it was “…hotter than a $3 pistol.”  At some point in his life, Clancy had read Benjamin Franklin’s terse little sayings, and they came pouring out as well.  “A stitch in time saves nine,” or “Six to one, half a dozen to the other.”  Sometimes he would answer the phone with, “Phoenix Horsemeat Company,” or “Kelly’s Pool Hall, Eight-ball speaking…”  I absorbed all of this and more into my everyday language.  If you are around my children very long, you will hear it coming from them as well.

Joseph must have had his doubts about his duty as earthly father to the Son of God.  What would he do?  What would he say?  What if he made mistakes?  Where would the wisdom necessary come from?  The answer lay in the wisdom of God in choosing that particular couple – Joseph and Mary – to be the parents of Jesus. Joseph must have been kind, compassionate, well-versed in the sacred writings, tough when he needed to be, unafraid to take a stand.  All of those qualities and more shone out from the character and life of Joseph’s stepson – Emmanuel, God with us.

Joseph's Song - Part I

Photo Courtesy of moviewallpaper.com

When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the

Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife.

But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son.

And he gave him the name Jesus.

Matthew 1:24-25

His name was Clancy.  Actually, his name was Clarence Abbott Poulson, but he had been known as Clancy for as long as I can remember.  He grew up in the small town of Prescott, Arizona, married a little redhead straight out of high school, then moved down to Phoenix to work for the newspaper, eventually becoming head of the composing room.  During World War II, he worked at Luke Air Force Base for Goodyear, manufacturing the parts needed to support the war.  He signed up for the Naval Reserves, serving in the aeronautics division as an Aviation Machinist’s Mate until he was 64 years old.  Year after year he passed his flight physical, often when younger men failed.  He rigged up a chin-up bar outside the backdoor of our house, and did what was necessary to insure that he would continue to surpass those younger “whippersnappers”!  Clancy was many things to many people, but his greatest work was as my adoptive father.  He was a huge influence in my young life, despite the fact that my mother was determined to wear the pants in the family.  Dad was the hardest worker I have ever seen, with interests as varied as his talents.

I’ve always imagined Joseph to be similar to my father:  strong, hard-working, a common man doing trade labor.  He was insightful enough to be willing to take the word of an angel over his manly common sense, and humble enough to accept and care for a child that was not his.  The angel never came to him to get his OK at the start of all of this; the heavenly messenger arrived after the deal was done and Mary was already pregnant.  One does not sense in the scriptures any belligerence on Joseph’s part, however – only tender, loving care for his wife and the babe she was carrying, conceived “from the Holy Spirit.”

The First Noel

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said

through the prophet:  The virgin will be with child, and

will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel –

which means, “God with us.”

Matthew 1:23

Yesterday in Los Angeles, a press conference was called for a tiny baby girl named Melinda.  Yesterday was supposed to have been her birth date.  Instead, she was born four months early at 24 weeks, weighing less than a can of soda, fitting neatly into her doctor’s palm.  She did not have fully working eyes or lungs.  Her skin was so thin that it could not keep out infections.  Her chance of survival was around 2%.  Survive she did, however, thanks to advanced medical machinery, the love and prayers of her parents, and the wisdom and skill of her doctors.  Melinda now weighs four pounds, and her release date from the hospital might come as early as New Year’s. 

It is almost impossible to wrap one’s head around the thought of God coming to earth as a human infant.  The Creator of the universe in diapers?  Many of the people at that time couldn’t buy it – those who proclaimed, “Whad-a-ya mean, Messiah?  This is Joseph’s kid!”  There was no way the boy next door could be the deliverer of Israel!  And the circumstances surrounding his birth?  “Yeah, right – virgin birth, my eye!”  There were those, however, who came to believe that Jesus was exactly who He said He was.  When the Savior directly asked, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of God.”   

How Should a King Come?

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because the Lord

has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives and release

from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the

year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve

in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead

of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

Isaiah 61:1-3

There is a new report out this morning from the U.S. Census, showing that a record number of Americans, nearly 1 in 2, have slipped into poverty or are scraping by on earnings classified as low income.  Federal and state safety net programs such as food stamps have been cut back, while the recession continues to make it difficult for these individuals to find jobs.  Housing and childcare consume as much as half of their available income, leaving little for utilities and food, much less any incidentals.  Programs that assist families at Christmas time are overwhelmed with applicants this year, the need far out-stripping the available means.  Meanwhile the talking heads in think-tanks and the politicians in Washington, all of whom bring home a more-than-comfortable salary, wrangle over partisan politics and whether people who are classified as poor or low income “actually suffer material hardship.” [Associated Press]

Mary and Joseph were among the working poor who traveled to the city of their origin for Caesar Augustus’ called census.  They did not go to the family estate in Bethlehem, or rent out the luxury suite at the local Hilton.  They sought housing in the common local inns, and upon finding no accommodation, accepted billeting in an animal enclosure. When God Himself descended to grace this earth, He did not come as the child of the wealthy or entitled, but as a baby born to the common man – a Savior of all mankind.