Let it Flow, Let it Flow, Let it Flow!

Today we finished school relatively early, and I put the finishing touches on my Christmas cards. The weather was so mild that I let the boys go out to play in shorts and t-shirts...definitely not the central New York, cabin-fever winters around here! I was going around, doing some chores, when I peeked out the front door to check on the boys. They were busily playing in the front yard. After a few more minutes, I peeked out again, and saw Joshua and Jonathan huddled in the soccer goal. I called out to them, to make sure everything was alright, and Josh decided to then inform me that his little brother was bleeding. As Jonathan began to walk toward me, I noticed a large, grapefruit sized blood stain on his t-shirt. As he came closer, I noticed that there was also blood on his shorts and hands. Uncle David came into the yard and made a comment about the large quantity of blood. So, I lifted up Jonathan's shirt, and saw that his whole little tummy was stained red...more blood. So, I got him in the house, went to the restroom, and began to strip him down. I wet a wash cloth and started to clean up his once olive, now crimson skin. As I put his clothes to soak in cold water, I tried to find the source of the bleeding. After wiping for a while, I noticed a small, pin-sized cut, just over his lower ribcage. I mean this cut was so small, that I only noticed it because the blood began to flow after I cleaned him. How this tiny opening made such a horrid mess, I'll never know! All I can figure is that there must have been a small vein near the cut, and it just kept pumping out through the path of least resistance...namely, his cut. After about 15 minutes of pressure, I was finally able to get that little pesty cut to stop bleeding. I bandaged him up, and "Shouted" out his clothes. Jonathan later admitted that he picked an old scab, just to see if it would bleed. He is definitely all boy! Just another average, ordinary day at the Parra ranch.

We Wish you a Merry Christmas

Yesterday, we had the opportunity to go Christmas carolling at a nursing home in Fairfax. It ended up just Jonathan and I, along with a great group from our new church (that we just love!). Jonathan was (and still is) in dire need of a haircut, but due to the lack of time, I just wet it, slicked it back and hair sprayed it. (He's three, and gave no protest...miracle!). When we got to the nursing home, one of the ladies from church commented that he looked like a little Eddie Munster...after looking at his little slick hair and sweet face, I had to admit she was right! No matter...he and his little friend J.R. were the stars of the show as they passed out presents to all of the residents that attended our little gathering. Out of my boys, Jonathan is most assuredly the more outgoing one, and he gave handshakes, hugs and a "Merry Christmas" to each of the men and women that he talked to. My heart was really touched as I watched the sweet elderly residents sing along with us to the old familiar Christmas songs. Even though we were only there a short while, I felt like we had touched eternity . I left that center feeling so full, knowing that I had received much more than I could have ever given.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

I was wondering today, just how big (or small) Bethlehem was at the time of Jesus’ birth. Obviously it was small enough, that the many people returning to it, as ordered by Caesar Augustus, filled every inn and vacant spot available. I am sure the homes were bursting at the seams by the sudden influx of visitors. Historians say that the population was somewhere between 300 and 1000 inhabitants when Jesus was born...a far cry from the tens of thousands that it grew to in the twentieth century.

I love to get a glimpse of the mind of God. Isn’t it amazing that God would choose the least likeliest of places to be the setting of the most important birth of all? Think of it...the Jewish scholars of that time were trying to decipher the scriptures, while right there, in the middle of nowhere, God was unfolding it all. The intellects of that day had their minds and hearts so focused on the triumphant entry of a king...one of high loftiness, one of great power and influence, and there, in the little town of Bethlehem, God fulfilled His Word in a way that was so unpretentious, and so incredibly basic, that even the shepherds in the fields nearby knew that something supernatural had taken place. The intellects of our modern world are not much different than those of old. While the technology has changed, the mind set has not. So often we believe God only works on a large scale and, in searching for the "greatness" we trample over the very thing that God has set before us. God still chooses to use Bethlehem as the setting in which to fulfill His will. My Bethlehem has a population of four. My sphere of influence, with God’s guidance, is endless.

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

It may be 70+ degrees outside, and I may even have broken a sweat sweeping leaves off the steps of our house yesterday, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she??

Away in a Manger

One of my favorite sights at Christmas is the nativity. Here in Hampton, down in the main square, they have a large, almost life-sized, nativity that is just beautiful. While Hampton has it's problems, it's nice that at least they get some things right now and again. We have a small nativity that I have set up in the living room. It's funny...amidst all the ornaments, ribbons and bows, the thing that the kids enjoy putting up the most is the manger and all the characters. It's almost as if they sense something special about it, even without really understanding the full importance of it at their early ages. I remember growing up, Mom had a manger, too. I used to love to assemble it as well. Hers had a light that was placed through a hole in the back of the "stable", and I remember how I used to sit next to the fireplace, or wherever Mom decided to place the manger that year, and rearrange the sheep, and the cow with the funny spring horns, and I would notice how Mary and Joseph's faces would glow from the light from that star-bulb. Since I have had my boys, I find myself thinking how it must have been to give birth outside, surrounded by lowing animals and a bustling city too small to hold all of the citizens returning for the census. A far cry from the beautiful birthing centers and even hospital rooms that we find ourselves in today, (which many times we complain about in the course of our stay). I also find myself wondering if I would have been as brave as Mary to say "yes" to the Lord's plan. How it must have felt to be carrying the Savior of the world for nine months, then raise Him, and ultimately watch Him hang on a cross for all humanity...even for those who would mock and reject Him. Then to raise again, in all His glory. What a time it must have been to be alive. Sadly, for some both then and now, it is a tale too far-fetched for their logical, pragmatic minds to believe. For the rest of us, it is the foundation of all of our faith, the Hope that we cling to, and the Promise that is soon to come again.