I will be taking a break from blogging, except for announcing my WND columns, until the first week in January.
May grace and peace be multiplied to you and your household this holiday season.
Tag Archives: Christmas
My Final Rant of 2016
My friend, Bill Sheridan, described his memoir, Depot Street Memories, as being a collection of essays. “It does not have a beginning or an end. At some point I will stop writing. That will be your cue to stop reading.”
His words communicate exactly what I am doing today: stopping my blog until 2017.
So, Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and Happy New Year. I have enjoyed all of you and look forward to great things happening in 2017.
Filed under Christianity, Christmas, Church
My Final Rant for 2014
My friend, Bill Sheridan, described his memoir, Depot Street Memories, as being comprised of essays. Then, he added: ” It does not have a beginning or an end. At some point I will stop writing. That will be your cue to stop reading.”
His words communicate exactly what I am doing today: stopping my blog until 2015.
So, Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and Happy New Year. I have enjoyed all of you and look forward to great things happening in 2015.
Filed under Christianity, Christmas, Church
I Love Christmas
In 1994, I attended a Christmas party for youths at an inner city church. There were thirty to forty youngsters between the ages of three and ten years old. The kids were mostly from homes where the mothers had drug/alcohol problems and the fathers were long absent from the homes. Although the children were poor, they wore their best clothes for the party.
The kids sat in a circle in the middle of the church’s basement. I sat between two of the youngest girls who alternated between sitting on their chairs and on my lap. Both were too excited to sit still.
The young teacher asked, “Why do you like Christmas?” She pointed to a child and added, “Okay, let’s start with you and go around the circle. Each can answer that question for us.”
One by one, they stood up and gave their answers. Each mentioned Jesus a little bit and then quickly added, “I sure hope I get such and such toy for Christmas.”
This continued in this manner until a seven-year old boy stood up. “We don’t believe in Christmas!” he proclaimed and sat down with his arms folded across his chest.
All of the other kids gasped, not understanding why the boy said what he did.
The little boy’s mother stood up. “Yes, we don’t celebrate Christmas. December 25th is not even when Jesus was born and is in fact the date of a pagan holiday.” She continued on for five minutes in a diatribe about how it was wrong to celebrate the holiday of Christmas.
Finally, she sat down.
The little children sat there stunned by her words. They looked like they had just heard their pet had been run over by a Mac truck. Their faces revealed their hurt.
I felt the Holy Spirit come upon me and I stood up.
“Yes, she may be right that December 25th is not the exact day for Jesus’ birth, but who really cares about the exact date? He was born and loves us now. Yes, December 25th may have been a pagan holiday, but who even remembers that stupid god except a bunch of fuddy-duddy Christians. That god is long dead and Jesus is alive. As far as pagan holidays go, the other 364 days of the year are all pagan holidays for one god or another. But this one day of the year, Jesus has reclaimed for Himself. If you happen to live in any nation of the world and hear the word ‘Christmas,’ you will learn that a man named Jesus was born on that day. So, let’s enjoy this one day when our Lord Jesus is remembered by the whole world.”
I sat down and every kid jumped with joy. The party continued onward.
The woman ended up coming up to me afterward. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong to push my ideas on the group and I felt you spoke the word of the Lord to me and everyone. Forgive me.”
The memory of that particular party still reverberates in my heart. I love Christmas.
Filed under Christianity, Christmas, Church, Gifts of the Spirit, Kingdom of God, Prophecy
At Age Twenty-One, Santa Blew It Big Time for Me
Usually my parents gave me clothes for Christmas presents during my years at the University of Illinois, but my mom surprised me in my senior year.
“Son, what do you want for Christmas?” she asked.
Her question caught me off guard so I thought a bit. “Well, I’d like a stereo,” I finally said.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, we’ll think about it,” she said, dropping the conversation.
I didn’t think any more about what my parents might buy me for Christmas because they were farmers. Their incomes depended on corn and soy bean prices and sadly both grains were down in price that year. So, I had no idea what they had in mind.
A few days before Christmas, I arrived home. In the living room, the tree looked great as usual with numerous presents under it. As I sat on the sofa watching TV, mom walked into the room and stood next to me.
“Well, son,” she said, “what do you think you’re getting for Christmas?”
I rotated my forefinger above my other hand, indicating my gift would spin around in circles.
She smiled. “You always amaze me by being able to guess your present ahead of time from us,” she said, heading back into the kitchen.
My enthusiasm for Christmas soared at that moment. I’m actually going to get a stereo, I thought.
We opened presents two days later. As usual, Dad handed gifts to me in the order he wanted me to open them. Socks. Underwear. Ho hum! Striped shirt. Sweater. Double ho hum!
Then, he handed me a small package, maybe two inches by three inches.
The size shocked me, but I’m a lot like that little boy whose father believed he was the most optimistic child in the world. To prove his theory, the father covered the son’s bedroom with horse manure for his birthday and put a red ribbon on the door.
The boy came home from school, tore the ribbon off, opened the door, and screamed with joy. He ran around the room, jumping up and down in the manure.
“Why are you so happy?” asked the father.
“Because I know there’s a pony in here somewhere. I just have to find it,” said the boy.
So, I slowly removed the gift wrap, looking for my stereo and wondering where I would find it. But there in the box was a wristwatch. Although I was disappointed, I put it on.
“You figured out our surprise gift ahead of time, son,” dad said, shaking his head.
Praise God! My parents could not read my mind at that moment.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all. See you after January 1st.
Filed under Christians, Church, grace, Kingdom of God, Politics, Prophecy, spiritual warfare, Uncategorized, Writing
Larry Who 
