The reason for the season

Christmas truly is the most wonderful time of the year...

I love every single part of it; but without God's

greatest gift, we would not have anything to celebrate.

I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and take time to

remember what the holiday season is all about.

JESUS IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON

The presents are tucked
By the tree neatly trimmed
Children are excited
As gift giving begins.

Loved ones and friends
Gather as before
To hear the story of Christmas
Told by Grandpa once more.

Everything is ready,
The celebration starts
But something is missing
Could it be in my heart?

Could Christmas be more
Than gifts under a tree?
The true meaning of the season
I really want to see.

My heart begins to ponder,
My thoughts see the sight
Of that very first Christmas,
The holiest of nights.

Angels praise and worship,
Shepherds share the sight
Of God's wondrous promise,
A King is born tonight!

I understand the difference,
The reason is crystal clear
It's JESUS who makes the season
Of family and friends and cheer.

Without the birth of Jesus
The celebration would be gone
HE brings the love of family
HE brings the joy of song.

People would still be lonely,
No hope would fill their way
Jesus is the reason for the season
It is HIS special day!

H. Alan Roth

Waiting

"God's timing is always perfect..." This is something that my mom has told me countless number of times over the last few years. It is a lesson that I still am learning...patience and waiting on God.

I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me and heard my cry.

He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay,

and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

I know that I have written on this subject before, but it is one that I constantly am reminding myself of...Wait on the Lord, don't try to take things in my own hands. God knows what is best for my life, His timing is always perfect...

Just today in my devotions I read this poem and once again it served as a reminder to me to wait on the Lord, trust in him, and let him have his way-

An hour of waiting!

Yet there seems such need

To reach that spot sublime!

I long to reach them-but I long far more

To trust HIS time!

"Sit still, my daughter"--

Yet the heathen die,

They perish while I stay!

I long to reach them-but I long far more

To trust HIS way!

'Tis good to get,

'Tis good indeed to give!

Yet is it better still--

O'er breadth, thro' length, down length, up height.

To trust HIS will!

And Patience was willing to wait...

I longed to walk along an easy road,

And leave behind the dull routine of home,

Thinking in other fields to serve my God;

But Jesus said, "My time has not yet come."

I longed to sow the seed in other soil,

To be unfettered in the work, and free,

To join with other laborers in their toil;

But Jesus said, "Tis not My choice for thee."

I longed to leave the desert, and be led

To work where souls were sunk in sin and shame,

That I might win them; but the Master said,

"I have not called thee, publish here My name."

I longed to fight the battles of my King,

Lift high His standards in the thickest strife;

But my great Captain bade me wait and sing

Songs of His conquests in my quiet life.

I longed to leave the uncongenial sphere,

Where all alone I seemed to stand and wait,

To feel I had some human helper near,

But Jesus bade me guard one lonely gate.

I longed to leave the round of daily toil,

Where no one seemed to understand or care;

But Jesus said, "I choose for thee this soil,

That thou might'st raise for Me some blossoms rare."

And now I have no longing but to do

At home, or else afar, His blessed will,

To work amid the many or the few;

Thus, "choosing not to choose," my heart is still.

What I'm Reading Today

I laid it down in silence,
This work of mine,
And took what had been sent me-
A resting time.
The Master's voice had called me
To rest apart;
"Apart with Jesus only,"
Echoed my heart.

I took the rest and stillness
From His own Hand,
And felt this present illness
Was what He planned.
How often we choose labor,
When He says, "Rest"-
Our ways are blind and crooked;
His way is best.

The work Himself has given,
He will complete.
There may be other errands
For tired feet;
There may be other duties
For tired hands,
The present is obedience
To His commands.

There is a blessed resting
In lying still,
In letting His hand mould us,
Just as He will.
His work must be completed.
His lesson set;
He is the higher Workman:
Do not forget!

It is not only "working"
We must be trained;
And Jesus "learnt" obedience,
Through suffering gained.
For us, His yoke is easy,
His burden is light.
His discipline most needful,
And all is right.

We are but under-workmen;
They never choose
If this tool or if that one
Their hands shall use.
In working or in waiting
May we fulfill
Not ours at all, but only
The Master's will!