Tag: Christmas

I Was Home For Christmas Last Night

For an instant on Christmas Eve’s joyous celebration last night, I reflected on some very special memories.

This Christmas found me where the reality of love’s light gleamed. There were smiles on faces, expressive laughter resounding with joy, and conversations of life experiences. This all filled the home with warmth like a fresh Yule Log burning in a grand fireplace. There were stories shared of family traditions as descriptions of Christmas cookies and peanut bars danced in our heads. Recounting the tales of how foods were spiced and how much time was spent to prepare brought a hungering taste of anticipation to our palates. Others remarked with turned tongues that they could not even bear to try this or that delicacy from the farm in North Dakota. Tonight the home was adorned with beautiful decorations, the table setting looked like a posed ideal photo calling out an invitation to come and dine. The presents were piled high by the tree, the aroma of the chili simmered on the stove, texts were sent and received, all blending into a Christmas memory of this year’s celebration. Prophetic thoughts of future celebrations yet to be humbled us all. My granddaughter spoke of just realizing that when she reaches the 1/4 century mark of her birth her mother will reach the half century mark in her life. My Grandson immediately responded that when he reaches his quarter century mark of his birth Grandpa will reach his 3/4 century mark. Lifetimes of blessings indeed of Christmases past, present, and future.

When we finished our Christmas eve meal the table was quickly cleared. The leftovers found their way to the fridge. The dishes were washed and tucked away in their places within the cupboard. The long-awaited phrase we had learned as children resonated throughout the house, “We’re ready to open presents!”.

Everyone started to move toward the living room. Excitement could be heard from the youngest to the oldest. All would nestle into their selected spots and await the distribution of their gifts from under the brightly glowing tree.

As I made my way from the dining room table, I passed by a tall antique cabinet that belonged to my grandmother, “Little Grandma”, Lillian Borgendale Simpson. It was at that moment I paused on my journey to open presents. I know not if it was that my eyes were just made clearer from recent cataract surgery but I was drawn to the cabinet as never before. I tenderly placed my hand upon the old wooden chest and moved my fingers over it. With a spirit of humility and reverence my hand moved over it as if I was touching the smoothness of grandmother’s cheek I knew as a child. It was at that singular instant, I was home for Christmas.

My heart swelled within me as I realized that I had passed by that cabinet all of my life. When my mother first carried me as a newborn baby into the home of her parents I would have passed by this very cabinet. When crawling I passed by this same cabinet, before I could talk I passed by it, when I took my first steps at “Little Grandmas” I would have walked by this precious cabinet now turned golden with the patina of years gone by.

Through the years I could not even begin to count the times I had passed by this cabinet filled with generational treasures. Some were from Norway when the Borgendale’s came to America and settled on the SW Minnesota Farm near Dawson. My first preaching experience after graduating from Bible College served some people from Dawson that were members of Antelope Hills Church of Christ in rural Canby, Minnesota.

My entire journey of life opening the gifts of God, of family and of friends for 72 years is a blessing of inheritance. I am humbly grateful to God to be overwhelmed by His gift to me in Christ. Our first child was born while we lived north of Canby. It is at our daughter’s house where this cabinet now stands. Passed down to my mother, to my sister and then to my daughter it reminded me tonight of God’s gift of Jesus to my life. He did not overlook any of us as He prepared a manger and gave us the gift of Emmanuel “God with us”.

Each of us has a cabinet or curio filled with countless blessings. On your journey of life pause and reflect on His uncountable blessings in your life.

Last night I was home for Christmas! It was more than a dream. God planned for me and prepares the number of years yet to be.

Share the gift of God by giving to others every day of the year. Open the eyes of others with clear vision to see the real meaning of Christmas. It is God working in our lives for generations yet to be. Don’t let your life pass by without taking the time to see His daily care for you. The generational impact of His eternal love spurs us on to tell the story of Jesus. He alone is God’s gift to you. Unwrap your gift today. It bears your name and is given to you by your Father who is preparing a place for you. My prayer for you is that you will one day be truly home for Christmas.

Grandma’s cabinet drew me home for Christmas

A Cherished Christmas

As you look “up” this Christmas may the warmth of your cheeks melt the purity of the winter snow. May your eyes see the true gift of Jesus falling upon you this Christmas. “Though your sins be like scarlet they shall be whiter than snow”. Make this a cherished Christmas. May your life be a music box of Christmas memories.

In the moonlight of a cold Minnesota winter the perfectly formed snow flakes glistened as they softly fell to the ground. We had made a long Christmas journey from South Dakota to the farm of Uncle Cecil and Aunt Marge. The unwrapping of the miracle of a cherished Christmas began as we turned from the graveled snow-packed county road to the quiet pathway leading “home”. Dozing travelers with nodding heads leaning on the shoulders of the person next to them were awakened by our driver who announced, “We’re here!” Each of us sat up straight as we carefully followed the headlights through the darkness of night. As we stepped out of the warm car the snow melted instantly on our warm cheeks. I distinctly remember looking up and seeing the gift of perfection of each flake falling upon my eyes. They seemed to grow larger as they fell from Heaven to kiss my face. The heart-warming beauty caused me to blink as I watched for a moment in time. My eyes looked down as the yard light snapped on and ignited the brisk windless night. There was Uncle Cecil welcoming us in a way that only families who are unconditionally loved can know. We made our way through the yard gate. My father in-law, Cecil’s brother Ralph, my mother in-law, Irma, my young bride Janice holding my hand, and her cousin Lila with babe in arms entered the warmth of the farmhouse. We were all greeted by a huge hug from Aunt Marge. It was the first time I had met them. Seeing two brothers embrace was priceless. No words spoken, just holding each other surrounded by hearts filled with love and life’s experiences shared through the years. Aunt Marge broke the silence of that tearful moment as she exclaimed, “Merry Christmas”! We had reached our Christmas journey and we were “Home”.

The next morning the kitchen was filled with the smells of breakfast cooking. We all gathered around one large table where Cecil led us in prayer thanking God for safe travel, His blessings, and the bountiful food that graced the table. The fellowship of family is a treasure beyond compare. Their young son, Paul, filled with Christmas anticipation and excitement said, “We have been waiting for you to come before we cut down our Christmas tree!” How excited we all were that we would be included in this Christmas memory— never to be forgotten but remembered to this day.

Cecil and Ralph bundled up to do chores together as they had done for years as small boys growing up in North Dakota. At last the men hooked up the hay wagon to the tractor and returned to the house. Each us layered up and put on our winter coats, scarfs, hats and mittens preparing to gather the tree. Everyone went. Christmas carols were led by Marge as Cecil drove the tractor. No choir could sing the carols of Christmas more joyfully. Our lifted voices rang out in song as our warm breath changed to a glorious mist with every exhale. Through the snow to the trees north on the acreage the sputter of the tractor stopped and we all saw the tree that was to become our cherished Christmas tree. We jumped off the wagon and gathered round as the men cut the tree and placed it on the wagon. While making our way back to the farmhouse there was an elevation of joy in our united voices. We sang with only the rhythmic beat of the tractor blended in praise. The penetrating fragrance of a fresh cut tree is breathtaking.

Today, five decades later, that cherished Christmas on a small Minnesota farm still warms my heart. The cherished lives lived so long ago who introduced me to the true meaning of a “family Christmas” are no longer here but remain in my Christmas thoughts every year. The carols we sang so long ago while riding on the hay wagon were like music boxes tinkling a joyous Christmas song of peace and good tidings of great joy.

Through 48 years of marriage and serving Christ together as minister and wife we often talked about that cherished Christmas shared so long ago. Through the years Janice began collecting music boxes. Some were gifts received, others were purchased. The sound of a music box became important to both of us through the years. Through joyous times and through the darkest moments we are lifted by the simple notes ringing out from music boxes in our home. God blessed our lives together with two children and two grandchildren. Each brought their own song— songs with many cherished Christmas melodies for generations yet to be. The true gifts of Christmas are opened with faithfulness. In the darkness of this world we are awakened as we find our way “Home”. In the fullness of time there is the cherished Christmas in each of our lives.

My Janice passed away just before Christmas four years ago. This year I determined to honor her by making a special Christmas tree to display her large collection of music boxes. Careful planning and engineering resulted in displaying 64 of her Christmas music boxes. Each is a reminder of a cherished Christmas. Janice has now reached her Christmas journey and is now “Home”. Today, I continue my Christmas journey inspired by those who traveled before me.

As you look “up” this Christmas may the warmth of your cheeks melt the purity of the winter snow. May your eyes see the true gift of Jesus falling upon you this Christmas. “Though you sins be like scarlet they shall be whiter than snow”. Make this Christmas a cherished Christmas. May your life be a music box of Christmas memories.

Cherished Music Box Christmas Tree

From Age to Age The Same

Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.  Proverbs 22:6

When the phone rang it called to attention our thoughts amidst the daily routine of living life in the ministry.  As Janice answered the phone I could hear by the tone of her voice that it was a serious call.  Alice had passed away in Missouri.  Three weeks previous to her death she was still living alone in her apartment, caring for herself, and attending church every Sunday.  A small stroke had caused her to be hospitalized and not wanting to be a burden to her family, she informed her son, “I think it is time that I go to the nursing home”.  A few brief days later she entered heaven.

After making the necessary arrangements to attend Alice’s funeral, Janice and I left for Carterville, MO.  It felt good to see family when we arrived.  Friends had gathered in my brother-in-law’s home that I had not seen in many years.  There were new people to meet as I had never met Alice’s daughters before.  We had known Alice for many years and hosted her at our home many times.  She was Roger’s mother, the husband of Janice’s sister, Janine. 

I was proud to sit beside the family at Alice’s funeral.  Everyone listened intently and focused on heaven as Janice played the piano.  My mind briefly began to recall a cherished Christmas memory from long ago.   Jennifer was in grade school and we had gone to Janice’s sister’s home for the Holiday.  All the cousins were there in Norton, Kansas.  Verner and Alice were there too from Omaha, Nebraska.  In the afternoon family members gathered with Christmas joy still overflowing on their faces as they each found a seat in the large living room.  The Christmas tree was glowing and the tasty family dinner still filled the house with the seasoned aroma of Christmas.

Janice was playing Christmas music on the piano as little Jennifer accompanied on her violin.  Oh, how beautiful was the singing of the family choir that joined in song.  On top of the piano there was a violin that Verner had made himself years ago.  He was now unable to speak. A stroke had deprived him of his voice.  You could see on his face the joy of listening to the little girl play.  Verner got up slowly and carefully from his chair. His weakened legs seemed to be strengthened by a special determination in his feeble small steps as he approached the piano. The music stopped when he arrived at his destination.  The room was filled with wonder much like the quietness of fresh falling snow on the meadow. Verner reached for the violin that he had crafted by his own hands in younger days now long past.  He had been an outstanding professional chemist throughout his exemplary career. His craftsmanship in the wood shop showed that he was an accomplished Luthier.

The silence of the moment was broken.  It was like sitting in the grandest concert hall as the concert master entered and tuned each of his violin strings and thereby tuning the entire grand orchestra in anticipation of the entrance of the conductor. No word was spoken as everyone watched Verner extend his arms.  In one hand was his tuned violin and in the other hand was his bow.  He placed them both into Jennifer’s hands after she laid her own instrument down.  She raised the violin to her chin and began to play.  He stood there watching every move and listening to every note.  Tears flowed from his eyes and down his face as she played his violin for him on that Christmas afternoon.  A concert to be remembered deep within the hearts of those who were so moved by the melody of life witnessed by this gracious act.  A priceless moment of time never to be forgotten   A Christmas gift that was the celebration of life, the celebration of birth, and the celebration of family all blended together in praise to the faithful God who gave us His son, Jesus.   A blessing that extends to a 1,000 generations.

My thoughts turned back to the funeral service and the life of a gracious Christian woman.  As Alice’s obituary was read I listened intently and was personally challenged and humbled by her life experiences.  Alice was born in 1903, Teddy Roosevelt was President.  The American history, the experiences of life, and the cultural changes that had taken place in her lifetime were almost unbelievable.  She was alive before there was an Income Tax and before the Titanic sailed on it’s maiden voyage,  Her husband Verner, was a veteran of World War I.  She had raised 5 children, 3 daughters and 2 boys all of whom graduated from Bible College.  Alice and her husband had been instrumental in establishing the Irvington Christian Church in Omaha, NE.  Their lifelong commitment to Christ and His Church are still a living witness long remembered in the history of the Christian Church in Eastern Nebraska. 

As we drove home from Missouri reflecting on what we had just experienced my thoughts were drawn back to the days when I was a freshman attending Dakota Bible College.  Just before college started that year I drove to Iowa to attend the funeral of my fathers’ Great Great Uncle.  Mr. Schmidt died at the age of 105.  He was born only one year after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1866.  He was a post master in a small Iowa town whose years of retirement were more than the years he worked.  Today there is still an oil portrait of Mr. Schmidt in the lobby of the Post Office building in Iowa where he served.  I recall as a small boy seeing him at family reunions.  My earliest recollection is seeing an old man seated in a lawn chair and being somewhat fearful when my father took me by the hand to introduce me.  He reached out his hand and firmly shook my hand, smiled, and said, “Hello Paul it is nice to see you”.   The American history, the experiences of life, the cultural changes that had taken place in his life were also unbelievable.  

Mr Schmidt was a member of the Christian Church.  His commitment to Christ saw his family carry the Gospel into the Dakota Territory and eventually lead to the establishment of the Christian Church in Sioux Falls, S. D.  He was an early pioneer of the faith whose dedication to the Word of God continues to carry an influence in South Dakota and in my personal life as a minister.           

One Hundred years from now what legacy will you have left behind?  The day to day living of life influences generations yet to be.  Someday a family member will be moved by your history, your experiences, and cultural changes that you faced.

The gem for our treasure box today is that we must lift up Christ in all three of these areas and have committed hearts than yearn to follow the Word of God all the days of our life.

Do you realize that America is so young?  Just think, going back another 100 years from the birth of Mr. Schmidt would place you 10 years before the American Revolution. 

Paul Sisson, Minister