A lovely story which I would like to share with you.

The "W" in Christmas

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful
experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations -- extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six-year-old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant."

I didn't have the heart to tell h im I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row-center stage -- held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love."

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W."

The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W." Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:

"C H R I S T W A S L O V E"
And, I believe, He still is. Amazed in His presence... Humbled by His love.

May each of you have a Merry Christmas as you reflect on His Amazing Love for us...

written by MICHAEL J. CHRISTENSEN

On a CitiHope International relief mission in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, after Hurricane Katrina, I was approached with a request: On our way home, could our Angel Flight East jet fly to Houston to pick up a displaced minor and take him to a family member in Rhode Island? We did some calculations: Houston would require another hour's flight time at a cost of $2,000 for fuel, maintenance, and the two pilots. We decided to do it.

At a private airport in Houston, we met our thirteen-year-old passenger, Jerry (not his real name). When he saw the jet, Jerry asked, "You mean I get to fly in this?" The pilots told him "You bet!" After signing the necessary paperwork, I heard myself say to Jerry: "Listen, we flew all the way here to pick you up for one reason: Because you are special!"

During the three-hour flight, Jerry's story came out in bits and pieces. He has a fifteen-year-old brother who had decided not to join him. He also has two younger sisters, who live with "Auntie." "My father and grandmother raised us," Jerry said. "I never knew my mother." Their grandmother died a couple years ago. "We made it through the hurricane okay," he explained, "but when the levees broke, our apartment was flooded. My cousin and I crossed the street in water up to our necks. I stepped in a hole, and he had to pull me up. I don't know how to swim."

They waded across the street to gather food at the closest grocery store. Unable to return to their lower-level apartment, they climbed to the roof of the complex, where they joined about thirty-five neighbors. The third day after the storm, a helicopter found them and flew them out of the city. Jerry's brother and his cousin were with him, but the transfer buses went on to different shelters, and the boys were separated. Jerry ended up alone at the Houston Astrodome, where he stayed for nearly two weeks. His father had disappeared and his mother, we were told, had drowned.

Soon we reached our destination. We took pictures and said goodbye. I arrived back home at 12:30 a.m., exhausted from my eighteen-hour day. Yet it was a sweet exhaustion of mission accomplished: a million dollars' worth of medicine delivered and a missing boy transported to his new guardian.

Was it worth the $2,000 to pick him up in a private jet rather than purchase a coach-class ticket on Continental? Through the generosity of the owners of the Saber 65 and the mission of Angel Flight, I had the means to give Jerry this trip, and the privilege to tell him: "Listen, we flew all the way here to pick you up for one reason: Because you are special!"

I can still see Jerry's winning smile and wide eyes when he got on the plane. This poor kid from New Orleans flying in a corporate jet was worth every dollar spent. Sometimes it takes extravagant efforts to show people they are special and loved.

The sacrament of the Eucharist, as the sacrament of the presence of Christ among and within us, has the unique power to unite us into one body, irrespective of age, colour, race or gender, emotional condition, economic status, or social background. The Eucharist breaks through all these boundaries and creates the one body of Christ, living in the world as a vibrant sign of unity and community.

Jesus prays fervently to his Father: "May they all be one, just as, Father, you are in me and I am in you, so that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (John 17:21). The Eucharist is the sacrament of this divine unity lived out among all people.

The pastor was very pleased with his donkey, which he
entered in a race
...... and won. The local paper read:
PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT
The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he
ordered
thepastor not to enter the donkey in another race. The next
day, the local
paper headlines read:
BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS
This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the pastor
to get rid of the
donkey. The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby
convent. The
local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following
headline the next
day:
NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN
The bishop fainted. When he came to, he informed the nun
that she would have
to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for ten
dollars. The
next day the paper read:
NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.00
This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the nun to
buy back the
donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.
The next day the
headlines read:
NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE

Sometimes we wonder, "What did I do to deserve this?" or "Why did God have to do this to me?" Here is a wonderful explanation! A daughter is telling her Mother how everything is going wrong, she's failing algebra, her boyfriend broke up with her and her best friend is moving away.

Meanwhile, her Mother is baking a cake and asks her daughter if she would like a snack, and the daughter says, "Absolutely Mom, I love your cake."

"Here, have some cooking oil," her Mother offers. "Yuck" says her daughter.

"How about a couple raw eggs?" "Gross, Mom!"

"Would you like some flour then? Or maybe baking soda?" "Mom, those are all yucky!"

To which the mother replies: "Yes, all those things seem bad all by themselves. But when they are put together in the right way, they make a wonderfully delicious cake!

God works the same way. Many times we wonder why He would let us go through such bad and difficult times. But God knows that when He puts these things all in His order, they always work for good! We just have to trust Him and, eventually, they will all make something wonderful!

God is crazy about you. He sends you flowers every spring and a sunrise every morning.

Whenever you want to talk, He'll listen. He can live anywhere in the universe, and He chose your heart.

I hope your day is a piece of cake"

Remain. Hang in there. Finish. Stick to it until it is done. Unfortunately, very few of us do that. Our human tendency is to quit too soon. Our human tendency is to stop before we cross the finish line.

Our inability to finish what we start is seen in the smallest of things:
A partly mowed lawn. A half-read book. Letters begun but never completed. An abandoned diet. A car up on blocks.

Or, it shows up in life's most painful areas:
An abandoned child. A cold faith. A job hopper. A wrecked marriage. An unevangelized world.

Am I touching some painful sores? Any chance I'm addressing someone who is considering giving up? If I am, I want to encourage you to remain. I want to encourage you to remember Jesus' determination on the cross.

Jesus didn't quit. But don't think for one minute that he wasn't tempted to. Watch him wince as he hears his apostles backbite and quarrel. Look at him weep as he sits at Lazarus's tomb or hear him wail as he claws the ground of Gethsemane.

Did he ever want to quit? You bet.

That's why his words are so splendid.

"It is finished."

Are you close to quitting? Please don't do it. Are you discouraged as a parent? Hang in there. Are you pessimistic about your job? Roll up your sleeves and go at it again. No communication in your marriage?
Give it one more shot. Can't resist temptation? Accept God's forgiveness and go one more round. Is your day framed with sorrow and disappointment? Are your tomorrows turning into nevers? Is hope a forgotten word?

Remember, a finisher is not one with no wounds or weariness. Mother Teresa is credited with saying,

"God didn't call us to be successful, just faithful."

The Land of Promise, says Jesus, awaits those who endure (Matthew 10:22). It is not just for those who make the victory laps or drink champagne. No sir. The Land of Promise is for those who remain to the end.
Let's endure.

Once upon a time...
There was a rich King who had 4 wives.


He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and
treated her to the finest of delicacies. He gave her nothing but the
best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much and was always showing her off
to neighboring kingdoms. However, he feared that one day
she would leave him for another.

He also loved his 2nd wife. She was his confidante and was always
kind, considerate and patient with him. Whenever the King faced a
problem, he could confide in her to help him get through the
difficult times.

The King's 1st wife was a very loyal partner and had made great
contributions in maintaining his wealth and kingdom. However, he did
not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly
took notice of her.

One day, the King fell ill and he knew his time was short.

He thought of his luxurious life and pondered, "I now have 4 wives
with me, but when I die, I'll be all alone.

Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I have loved you the most, endowed
you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now
that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?"

"No way!" replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another
word.
Her answer cut like a sharp knife right into his heart.

The sad King then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you all my life.
Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?"


"No!" replied the 3rd wife. "Life is too good!
When you die, I'm going to remarry!"

His heart sank and turned cold.


He then asked the 2nd wife, "I have always turned to you for help
and you've always been there for me. When I die, will you follow me
and keep me company?"


"I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!" replied the 2nd wife.
"At the very most, I can only send you to your grave."

Her answer came like a bolt of thunder and the King was devastated.

Then a voice called out:


"I'll leave with you and follow you no matter where you go." The
King looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny,
she suffered from malnutrition.


Greatly grieved, the King said, "I should have taken much better
care of you when I had the chance!"

In Truth, we all have 4 wives in our lives ...


Our 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we
lavish in making it look good, it'll leave us when we die.

Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth.
When we die, it will all go to others.


Our 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how much they have
been there for us, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the
grave.

And our 1st wife is our Soul,

often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the
ego.
However, our Soul is the only thing that will follow us wherever we
go.


So cultivate, strengthen and cherish it now!
It is your greatest gift to offer the world.
Let it Shine