2014 - A look back at our Journey

Love our California kids

Happy New Year's everyone and welcome to 2015.  As we start a new year, it's always great to look back and see some of the happenings from the last year.   How did we grow, what did we learn, what are we grateful for?   Here, in a few words and with a few pictures, are some of the things our family highlighted from this last year.

We had a great family vacation to Yellowstone Park with my extended family, and then followed that by multiple days in Utah with Mariann's extended family.   It was great to see all our brother's and sisters and so many of their kids.

In Yellowstone

Hanging out with our Japanese cousins in Orem

Jessica is in the middle of her second year of a three-year master’s degree in Anthropology (Archaeology) and Museum Studies at BYU.   She continues to work at the BYU Museum of Peoples and Cultures as part of her program.  This summer she came out to CA for a couple of weeks so that Mariann and I could take a quick vacation trip.   

 

 

As soon as she left here, Jessica went to Chiapas, in southern Mexico, for a month, to help catalog artifacts from a Mesoamerican excavation.  She really enjoyed getting to see some of the sites and artifacts in person that she’s only before seen in books.  Also, this fall Jessica and Kylie got to attend the Salt Lake Comic Convention and had a lot of fun there.

At Salt Lake Comic Con

Kylie graduated from BYU-I with her Bachelor’s of Science degree in Child Development in July.    The entire family came up for her graduation, and spent a few days in Yellowstone as well with our Simpson/Nybo cousins.   That was a lot of fun.  Not only did she graduate, but she also took out her endowments in the Rexburg Temple the day before.  It was great to have so much family there to support her in those two important events.  After that she moved to Provo, next door to Jessica, and is now working with children with autism at Foothill Elementary in Orem.

At the Rexburg Temple

Andy is in his Junior year at Utah State in Logan.  After long thought he decided his love for writing, and literature was strong enough to change his major to English with an emphasis in Creative Writing.  He continues to enjoy all things outdoors, especially rock climbing and trail running.  He also picked up skiing this winter.   He is combining the two things together (his major and outdoor enthusiasm) and is writing an outdoor column for the campus paper.  He is looking into making a career of writing for the outdoor industry.

A little climbing and exploring

Jake has had an amazing year, with many of the ups and downs that come with it.  He continues to improve his skill as an amazing artist.   His pieces have really started to reflect his emerging style.   He is always working on something, and will create art on anything from a pizza box to traditional canvas.  He has really gotten into Reggae music and been to several concerts this year where he has made numerous new friends near and far.  In November, Jake was also involved in a motorcycle accident that burned his legs extensively.   He had to spend most of the month of November in a burn unit in San Francisco.  The skin grafts are doing well.  He was home by Thanksgiving, and continues to get better every day.  He is still his cheery positive self, and loves to laugh and tease.  We feel that Jake was very blessed to only have burns, and not any broken bones, or more serious injuries.  This summer while in Orem he was a big hit with all his young cousins.  They flocked to him every time we were together.  Everyone loves Jake.

Trying to get cool on his fancy heated hospital bed

Stephen is a Junior this year at Granada High School.  He is involved with several groups and clubs including the Red Cross and Hip Hop Club.   He continues to love to dance, and had an active role in the Junior skit for Homecoming.  Stephen turned 16 this year, and so went out and got his first job.   It has been a great experience and he is learning many things about juggling a job, school and social activities.   He is already counting down the days until he is a Senior, but that is a story for next year.  Besides work and school, he loves to long board any chance he gets.  It’s a good thing we live in California where the weather is amenable for this year round.

Homecoming skit/dance 2014

Hip Hop Club

Lindsey is in her last year of middle school.  Her mom is a little freaked out that her baby will be in High School next year.  Just like her sisters did at this same time, Lindsey has started to have a growth spurt.   She has added several inches already this fall and is beginning to measure how tall she is against her Mom and I every chance she gets.  She continues to be involved in drama and has also started to become a very talented artist.    She determined she wants to be a mermaid, and spent as much time in the water as she could this summer.   She even has a mermaid tail.

Mariann and Jeff have had a busy year too.  In May we took a long postponed 25th anniversary trip.  (We've been married 28 years, so it was 3 years in the making).  We feel grateful for Jessica who came out to help with carpool duties and the kids at home so we could go.  We spent 10 days in the U.S. Virgin Islands.  It was a fun trip and we did multiple things we had never done before.

In the US Virgin Islands

We feel very blessed this year, with good family, good friends, the love of God, and the knowledge that He knows each one of us as individuals and loves as all the same.  We know that our Savior atoned for each one of us, and through that Atonement we can all live together again with Him. We love you all.

Happy New Year everyone, 

Welcome to 2015 - I'm sure it will be a great year.

You've Got to Ride the Waves

Basically we dropped the ball in March.  And I have thought about our poor sad abandoned blog ever since.  I have meant to start back up again several times, but something always got in the way.  But then recently something happened that has spurred a resurrection.

On November 2, Jake got into a motorcycle accident.  He sustained third degree burns on his legs and spent nearly three weeks in a hospital in San Francisco.

Poor kid.  I had school and couldn't go out there to see him, but I talked to him every day on the phone.  I had been wanting to talk to Jake more, and I thoroughly enjoyed our talks.  One night, toward the end of his stay, he was feeling pretty low.  He was tired, sore, cranky, and bored.  As we were talking, he just kept saying, "I just gotta ride the waves.  Gotta ride the waves."  And it reminded me of an article I read earlier that morning in the October 2014 Ensign entitled, "Upon the Top of the Waters" by Jon Warner.

In the article, the author was suffering in a great trial.  He asked God to take his trial away, to calm the storm about him.  But then one day he was reading in the book of Ether, and...well, I will just quote from the article directly:

In the middle of my anxiety and despair, I reread the account of the Jaredites crossing the “great deep” (Ether 2:25). I can only imagine their anxious anticipation as they entered their barges. Their journey might be perilous, but they knew they were headed to “a land choice above all other lands” (Ether 2:15).

Of their journey, we read:

“The Lord God caused that there should be a furious wind blow upon the face of the waters, towards the promised land; and thus they were tossed upon the waves of the sea before the wind.

“And it came to pass that they were many times buried in the depths of the sea, because of the mountain waves which broke upon them, and also the great and terrible tempests which were caused by the fierceness of the wind.

“… When they were encompassed about by many waters they did cry unto the Lord, and he did bring them forth again upon the top of the waters.

“And it came to pass that the wind did never cease to blow towards the promised land while they were upon the waters; and thus they were driven forth before the wind” (Ether 6:5–8).

These verses became personal to me. I felt that I was in my own barge, with winds of anxiety beating upon me and waves of depression swelling over me and burying me in the depths of despair. When I was “encompassed about” and would cry unto the Lord, I would break through the surface but would then be buried once more.

I read verse 8 again: “The wind did never cease to blow towards the promised land … and thus they were driven forth before the wind” (emphasis added). Then it hit me. The very wind that caused the mountainous waves to bury the barges also blessed the Jaredites on their journey. I had been pleading with Heavenly Father to calm the wind and waves, but without them, I might not reach whatever “promised land” He was leading me to.

My favorite painting of waves is "The Great Wave off Kanagawa" by Katsushika Hokusai.  I think it epitomizes this story perfectly.  The waves are both terrible and beautiful at the same time.  Sometimes we need the waves to bring us to where we are supposed to be.  If we ask God to calm the storm, we may not reach our final destination, which, if we are listening, will be "a far green country under a swift sunrise." 

So ride the waves my friends, ride the waves.

-Jess

The Blessings of “Goodly Parents”

I have been thinking a lot lately about parents, and what it takes to be a “good” parent.  I have always been apprehensive about being a parent, and that anxiety has only increased as I watch the world around me become so much worse than it was when I was young.  I am not so much worried about what I can control, I know God and my future husband will help me with that, I am worried about the things that are beyond my control.  The world outside my home.  I am not sure I want my children seeing the things I see and more.  It’s a scary thought.  I look at my immediate and extended family, and I see members of my family refusing to make good choices.  They are lost and alone, and I am sad.  And I see the parents of those wayward children, my parents, struggle with how to support and help the lost child, let them know they are loved unconditionally without supporting the behaviors.  And on a grander scale, I know God loves all His children and helps them where He can, but He cannot make anyone choose the right, and He cannot condone wicked behaviors.  And as righteous parents striving to be like God, my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, they all are in the same boat.  They have to love their children as much as they can, even if it’s from a far.  And sometimes it’s very very far away.  And they all feel like they have failed.  Failed to instill a love of God in the hearts of these children, failed to teach them, somehow convince them that the only path to happiness is the path God has paved.  That the dirt path to the right appears “cool”, “unconventional”, and “free” right now, but it will surely end in a dead end, a dungeon, and death on both levels.  And I am heartbroken that these parents I love so much feel the weight of guilt and failure because their child can’t or won’t choose the path of happiness.  I am not a parent.  I do not pretend to have any thoughts on correct parenting skills, nor do I want to seem like a self-righteous woman claiming to have all the answers.  I just have been thinking about this topic a lot lately, and praying about it even more.  And I have been looking for answers from people who are much more inspired than I am.

There is a great talk from President James E. Faust in April 2003 called “Dear are the Sheep That Have Wandered”.  I won’t quote the entire thing here, but you can read it from this link: https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2003/04/dear-are-the-sheep-that-have-wandered?lang=eng

And then in this month’s Ensign is the article I was looking for.  It’s by Elder David A. Bednar, entitled “Faithful Parents and Wayward Children: Sustaining Hope While Overcoming Misunderstanding”.  Read it here: https://www.lds.org/liahona/2014/03/faithful-parents-and-wayward-children-sustaining-hope-while-overcoming-misunderstanding?lang=eng&query=wayward+children

Basically they both talked about how sometimes, despite a parent’s best efforts, children refuse to choose the right.  The great thing about righteous parents keeping their covenants is that it ensures that child a place in the eternities should they choose to repent.  And as a child of God they are always ensured the Light of Christ at the very least.  God will be with them in every way He can, guiding them, inspiring them, helping them on their way until they are ready for more light.

I think the best example of this is Alma the Elder. 

Alma the Elder was once a priest of the wicked King Noah.  Alma didn’t make good choices, in fact, he was driven to teach the people to pursue wickedness out of a love for riches.  But one day he experienced a change of heart.  And because of his change of heart, he was able to help his whole village come to Christ, and they all journeyed to Zarahemla to be with the other church members.  So Alma the Elder knew what it was like to live in darkness and to find the Everlasting Light of Life (Jesus’ Atonement).  Now Alma had a son.  His name was Alma the Younger.  And this son was not just a wayward child, he was outright rebellious, belligerent, and did everything he could to be opposite his namesake.  I am sure Alma and Alma had many conversations that probably went something like this:

A.t.E: Son, you have to straighten up!  You know what’s right, and you can’t keep living this way.  You won’t be happy.

A.t.Y: Whatever dad.  I’ll be fine.  I like my life, and you can’t make me believe otherwise.

A.t.E: Son, I’ve been where you are.  I’ve experienced this path you’re choosing, and I’m telling you, Christ’s way is the only way that leads to happiness.

A.t.Y: I’m tired of hearing that story.  I don’t believe in God, and I don’t believe in your silly religion.

What should Alma the Elder do?  He prayed every day that his son would find the truth, be pricked in his heart, learn to love God, cease His evil ways.  And days, months, and years passed.  And Alma the Younger got worse.  And started dragging people away from the church and their own happiness.  So God stepped in.  In Alma 27, we read that one day an angel appeared before Alma the Younger and his friends.  This is what he said:

14 And again, the angel said: Behold, the Lord hath heard the prayers of his people, and also the prayers of his servant, Alma, who is thy father; for he has prayed with much faith concerning thee that thou mightest be brought to the knowledge of the truth; therefore, for this purpose have I come to convince thee of the power and authority of God, that the prayers of his servants might be answered according to their faith.

 15 And now behold, can ye dispute the power of God? For behold, doth not my voice shake the earth? And can ye not also behold me before you? And I am sent from God.

 16 Now I say unto thee: Go, and remember the captivity of thy fathers in the land of Helam, and in the land of Nephi; and remember how great things he has done for them; for they were in bondage, and he has delivered them. And now I say unto thee, Alma, go thy way, and seek to destroy the church no more, that their prayers may be answered, and this even if thou wilt of thyself be cast off.

Pretty intense right? Now, I don’t think angels will be coming to visit my wayward family members.  Or will they?  After all, Elder Holland said we can be angels to others (October 2008 General Conference).  And in Relief Society today, part of the lesson was on the relationships we have here on Earth, and what happens to those relationships in the next life.  I am going to use the words of a good friend of mine (with her permission of course):

“…we read in the scriptures “Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love” (1 John 4:7-8). And, “now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life—“ (Mosiah 18:8-9).”

So what is my job? And what is my parent’s job, and the job of every parent who struggles with a wayward child? Love them.  Unconditionally.  You have to decide what that looks like.  But that’s all we can do.  You haven’t failed.  As a parent, your example and your work every day to bring your child to the Gospel proves you didn’t fail.  And God knows it.  And His opinion is the only one that matters.  So take a deep breath, and let go.  Pray for your child every day, fast for them, love them.  Talk to them.  Help where you can, and love them when you can’t.  God didn’t send us here to fail.  He’ll make sure we don’t.  And one day, they'll need you.  Hold out for that day.  It's coming.  God promised, and He's never gone back on a promise yet.

-Jess

A Beacon of Hope

This semester has been pretty challenging for me and I've only been in school for a month. I seem to have more things to do than I have time for and as the weeks went by I started slacking off in the most important area of my life; the gospel. It wouldn't have been super noticeable except that there was some contention between my roommate and I that wasn't there last semester. We had talked several times to no avail. We couldn't figure out what was wrong or what we could do to change the atmosphere in our apartment.
Then on Sunday January 26, 2014 we had a Relief Society lesson about putting our priorities in order and putting the Lord first in our lives. I felt like I was getting slapped in the face, this was definitely something I needed to hear. When I got home my roommate mentioned how heavily the lesson impacted her and I told her I felt the same way. In that moment we both realized that we were not doing our best to align our lives with God's will. We made a decision right then to work harder, get up earlier to read our scriptures and make a conscious effort to attend the temple at least once a week. It shouldn't be that hard because it takes 15 minutes to walk up the hill through campus to the temple.
There was such a difference in our relationship as we worked on getting to bed earlier and getting up just a bit earlier so we could read our scriptures first thing in the morning. The contention left and we began to get along the way we used to.
I had made the decision that Sunday to go to the temple on Friday at 11:30 after my last class. However I realized the next day that I had an appointment at 11:30 and then an internship interview at 12:30 and another appointment at 2:00. I was having a hard time figuring out where to put my temple trip when my friend recommended going Friday morning before my classes. So when Friday came around I got up and ready to head out the door at 8:15. I walked out the door to my apartment and quickly noticed how foggy it was that morning. As I was walking up the hill to the temple I noticed that I couldn't see very far ahead because of the fog. I was curious to know if I could see the temple through the fog so I looked up. What I saw nearly brought tears to my eyes. The sun was rising in the sky and hit the fog just right so that all that was visible above the fog was the statue of Moroni on top of the temple. I couldn't take my eyes off of the temple and soon I could see the steeple as well as Moroni. In that moment I got caught up in the symbolism of everything; the mist of darkness and the golden rod, or statue of Moroni, shining brightly towards heaven pointing me in the direction I need to take in life. The temple is a symbol of hope standing bright in the darkness of the world around us. All we have to do is put one foot in front of the other and stay on path that leads to the Lord.
As I have been sitting here writing this, the lyrics of a song have come to my mind that I feel fit nicely with the theme of this post, though I'm just going to add bits from the end. The song is, "Close Enough to Touch" by Kenneth Cope.

I came close enough to touch
Close enough to heal
Faith let me know I'd be whole
If I was close enough
Close enough to feel
His love for me so real
I will believe there are miracles for me
When I'm close enough to touch

Always believe
that he's close enough to touch 

When we are going to the temple regularly, whatever that means for you personally, we are coming close enough to the Savior to feel his touch in our lives. I truly believe that his presence can be felt stronger and more powerfully in the temple than almost anywhere else on Earth.

I took this picture that morning because it was too good of a moment to miss. It is now a constant reminder of the power of the temple and just how easy it should be for me to get myself there every week.

There is a certain majesty that emanates from the house of the Lord that you can't imitate anywhere else, no matter how hard you try.
I hope this picture can inspire the same hope and love that it inspired in me.

Remember that the Lord lives, and loves each and every one of you,
Kylie

Night Climbing

Of late I have often cast my mind upon the situations of my peers. In no other place have I seen so many struggle in silent and stalwart resolution, seeking solutions. It seems that many face overwhelming odds. I wonder how it is that they haven't been crushed beneath the weight of the burdens they carry. Members of my family, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, people I meet on the street are all alike. There is some bruising burden that they carry in their being. Aside from the testament of human fortitude that this realisation has presented, it has also raised questions in my heart.
I have to ask, why do we suffer through so much? What is it, deep inside, that resists? When all is lost and the world seems to darken around us, from whence does the little voice that says, "I will not bow. I will not be broken" emanate? Because as hard as life may get, so many people that I meet are just plain happy with it. They are happy despite the pain and the anguish and the out and out frustration that we so frequently encounter. How can that be? How can there be joy in suffering?
Let me, then, compare life to a road. A fairly common comparison, but nonetheless a suitable example. From my perspective, I feel that I know my destination. I know where I'll end up if I do things right in this life and if I stay focused, I'll make it. Yet, that knowledge doesn't preclude nor eliminate the inevitable roadblocks of life. That, my friends, is what I see facing those around me. They have arrived at a fork in the road, or experience complications in their trek across the perilous plains of life.  So, if I can claim that I know the destination, what do a few minor set backs matter? When we slam up against that wall, that's when that little voice can call out. If it is heeded, the situation may not improve, but the resolution of the soul very well may. In that moment, when the voice inside cries, "I will not be defeated, nor deterred. I have a destination and I will not diverge from my desires" the world hangs in the balance. If we listen, we will rise and conquer. If we choose not to listen, the road we walk will take us to places that are far darker than the pits that we've ever conceived in the throes of our sorrow.
That wall is the crux we face almost constantly. So when I see my peers smiling, I know that even though they hurt, they're trying and winning. It's when you see the desperation in the eyes of others, the deep and abiding dissolution of strength and resolve that bile rises in my throat and I mourn for them. In their hearts, they are giving in to the darkness.
A little know Swiss man, Didier Berthod, illustrates perfectly the idea of listening to that little voice that originates from within the fathoms of human fortitude. He had a dream and gave every particle of his being in his attempts to reach it. He scrounged and saved and finally flew thousands of miles from his home to Squamish, B.C., Canada. Once there, he began down his path towards the eternal realm of dreams. With 2 months before him, he lived humbly and fought tenaciously. There, in mountains of the North, is a single fissure that cleaves a face of rock, known as the Cobra Crack. For 2 months, Didier poured his heart and his soul into that crack, giving his all in hopes of making the first ascent. 2 months of blood, sweat and pain later, Didier still had not managed to scale the Cobra Crack. So he returned to Switzerland, vowing that he would return to Canada.
One year later, the earth trembled and the heavens held their breath as Didier once more stared the Cobra in the eyes. Then, Didier hit the wall. A debilitating knee injury overtook all hope he had of making the first ascent. Like so much smoke and ash in the hands of a street corner mage, Didier's dreams disappeared. In that moment, he said something that I would hope we all echo in the moments of our fear and sorrow. He realised that the idea of the first ascent had consumed him and that the beauty had been sucked from his venture. So instead of cursing God and wishing to die, he gave thanks. "God had pity on me. He saw and said, 'No, Didier, it's not for you. The glory isn't for you.'" Didier realised that in his pain, it wasn't about the glory, or the triumph of the first ascent. It wasn't about the recognition of humanity for his accomplishment. It was about connecting with the route, with God's creations. That crippling blow helped him see and appreciate all that God had granted him.
When I saw that in the film First Ascent, I was blown away. How could someone who had sacrificed so much simply be content with defeat? Yet, it wasn't a defeat. It was a victory in the heart of this man. The battle was won, not lost. Didier won the fight against discouragement, despair and hopelessness. In the pain, he found the good. That's how all those around me keep at it with a smile on their faces. That's why those that have given up, show it in their countenance.  
With that said, I would call out to those that have reached the wall. The road may seem lonely and fearsome, but we are never alone and we need not fear. Listen to the voice that comes from deep within.  As Didier, so often we sacrifice so much and there are times when it seems as though it amounts to naught. That is the moment to dig in and find the light. Find the fortitude to resist the onslaught of despair.

So off we go, into the black, with nothing but an ethereal cord around our waist to tie us to reality. We were born to rise.

It's Not the Answers that Matter.

How often do we as individuals search for the answers? The answers to a test, to our problems, to debt, to heartache, to life, the universe and everything? As great of an answer that 42 is, somehow, it just doesn't cut it. We search deeper. We look longer and travel further and farther than ever before, hoping that we will have that moment of rapture when we find the magic answer. Some of us turn to money, another to love and still another to solitude. Despite the differences in methods, we all seek the same thing: answers.

I've reflected on this perpetual human search. There's something inside of each of us that yearns for a better world. The solution, I've found, isn't, in fact, with the solution. Rather, the solution is questions. Not just any old question will do, but the right question. Too frequently we think that it will all be better when we have the answer. Yet, I have found that to find the answer, we must first ask the right questions. Of whom do we ask, then? It's simple. Of yourself, of God, of your mother or your friend, whomever you need. In reality there is only one who will have all of the answers, but He is waiting to hear our queries. Many many times, He will answer those queries through others. That means that our questions shouldn't be solely asked of Him, but also of those in whom we trust and love. When we ask the right questions of the right people, we start down the right road to the right solution. 

Now, this doesn't mean that we will always find an easy answer or a quick resolution to our conundrum. Certainly not. Rather, it means that we will grow and develop along the way as we push our limits and the limits of others. We step outside of ourselves as we seek the questions that will give us answers. You can't start a race at the finish line, you must start at the beginning. In this life, the beginning is the right question. The finish line only comes after the journey between the question and the answer. 

One of the most frightening things about asking questions is the doubt that it can raise in our hearts. To that, I have only this to say. There are times when it is cast into the heart of men to doubt. A man of principle and faith will stand and fight for his cause. Though the darkness encroach upon his heart, he will grasp the shreds of light that live in his heart to conjure a sharp and terrible sword. The truths that live in him in tandem with eternal law are forged into the bane of this darkness. In the sight of fleeting shadows and dwindling dimness, the truth survives a day more in the heart of this man.

Seek the truth, ask the right questions. Live a little. If we could all live a little more like this, I think we would all find that the answers aren't so far away. Many times, they are inside of us. It's the journey that we have to take that will test us to the very limit. I think this little clip of a very inspiring film will help me with my point.  

Sometimes to find negative #25 we must cross into the dangerous and untold portions of our heart. God speed you in your journey.

Linus, The Grinch and Me .... How Cartoon's taught me about Christmas

I'd like to share with you how cartoons taught me about Christmas. Now before anyone thinks that my parents didn’t teach me about the true meaning of Christmas, we should remember that just because I didn’t learn doesn’t mean they didn’t teach me.

I know my mom read us Christmas stories and scriptures.  I remember to this day a creche she had and set up every year.   I remember it because my mom’s name is Gloria and the little ceramic Angel that hung on top of the stable had a banner around her that read “Gloria”.   I always thought that was because it was my mom’s nativity, not that Glory in Latin is Gloria.  So I’m sure my parents did the best job they could at the time to teach me about Christ, and Christmas and the true meaning of Christmas.   Like I said, that doesn’t mean that is what I remember.

I remember learning about Christmas from two cartoons.  The first one is "Charlie Brown’s Christmas" and the second is "How The Grinch Stole Christmas". 

Everyone loves Charlie Brown, the sad little round headed kid that seems to be the Eeyore of his world.  There are several lessons I learned from Charlie Brown.   Sometimes little things in life can make a difference.  Like the little tree he chooses on the lot.  Sometimes those little things need our attention, and love, and caring.  At Christmas time, it’s the little things that make the difference.

The world is too caught up in its own trendiness.  Lucy is the perfect embodiment of the world’s view of Christmas.  It’s all about the “me” factor.  Lucy isn’t bad; she just doesn’t realize the higher level and more important aspect of having a Christ-centered Christmas.  Many of us get too caught up in the process of Christmas and all the glitter and lights.

However, most importantly, I can never read Luke 2 without hearing the innocent child voice of Linus Van Pelt, alone on the stage, spot light centered on him reciting those wonderful verses that announce the birth of our Savior.

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night….

Youtube Link of Linus reciting Luke 2

ending with, “and that is what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown.”   I don’t remember when the first time I heard Linus say those words, but I’ve heard it for many years since then.  Originally, when I was young, there were no VCRs.  (Yes, I’m older than VCRs).   So I’m sure I only heard it once a year.   But it was enough to engrain his voice in my head every time I read those verses.  And that is Ok.  The scriptures say that “A little child will lead them”. (Isaiah 11:6)  I kind of think about that.  

Who better than a child to announce the birth of the Son of God to come to live among men.

For the Grinch, of course, there is another great lesson.  Not directly about the Savior, but about each of us.  I know I read this story many, many times before I saw the show.  I’m talking about the classic TV Show, not the Jim Carry/Ron Howard film.   I have nothing against the film and think it is a good adaptation of the story, but it was the book and the TV show that impressed me long before the film.

This is a good time to bring up a fact many people don’t know about me.  I am not a huge fan of poetry.  I ‘m not saying I hate it, but I know I don’t appreciate it as much as many other people do.   I know this because I don’t like to read poetry that much and often I find myself skimming to the end so I just get through it.   I also know that all poems don’t need to rhyme.

None-the-less, I have always loved the rhyming of Dr. Seuss.  I grew up on Dr. Seuss and think he was an amazingly talented writer, both for adults as well as children.   Two of my favorite books are “The Grinch who Stole Christmas” and “The Lorax”.  There are times all through the year I find myself quoting some snippit out of one of those books.  It is just something that is part of my vernacular all year round.   I always call roast beef, “roast beast”.  I’ve always called the Christmas sing-alongs “Who Christmas sings”, and if I see a small child just learning to walk, I often find myself thinking there is “Little Cindy Lu Who, who was not more than two.”

Many times when I’m hiking up some steep mountain side I find myself muttering “10,000 feet up, up the side of Mt. Crumpet he rode with his load to the tip top to dump it.” 

I’ve loved the whole Grinch story for as long as I’ve remembered.  I memorized it in high school and recited it to children at schools with a little arm puppet I had who was my Grinch.  I’ve read it to each and everyone one of my children’s elementary school classes in Kindergarten or First Grade.  I watch the TV show every year, and usually read the book once or twice a year, as well.

So what did I learn?   Well, the whole story is tailored to one central theme, summed up in a few choice lines:

   “Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small,
Was singing without any presents at all!

He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling. "How could it be so?

It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes, or bags!"

He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.

Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!"

Whenever I find myself  getting caught up in the Christmas rush, the buying of presents, or shopping hoards, the parties, the pressure, the glitter, and flash, I find myself repeating those words… "maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

So here is my wish to you this Christmas season, that you may see things like I do.  I hope a child can lead you toward the Savior and may the Grinch help you remember that Christmas is something more than all that the world makes it to be.

Merry Christmas and Peace on Earth, Good will to Men.