Wildflower Writes

When my sister and I were deciding where to spend the Sunday morning before Christmas, she suggested Grace Community Church in Goshen. I said as long as there were lights and Christmas music, I'd be happy. I was not disappointed. The main sanctuary was beautifully decorated for the season. And even though the music was worshipful and engaging, the message is what hit home. The speaker admonished us not to take the miracle of the season for granted, and took us into the perspective of Mary, a young peasant girl in a small town with simple expectations from life: marry, have a family, keep a household. Then an angel comes a-knockin'. Imagine the mixture of excitement, wonder, and trepidation upon seeing an angel, hearing that she was favored by God, and that she would be pregnant... by the Holy Spirit. Of course God chose the best mom for Jesus. Of course she was spiritually strong and faithful. Yet, she was still human. Imagine Mary trying to explain the situation to her ...

I have what you might call a "melancholy" personality. I don't see myself as a pessimist however, more like a realist. So, I was contemplating "realistically" the headaches of the holidays- I don't care much about decorating, or baking, or cards, or shopping. I get disgusted with the commercialism and secularization of the holiday. But as I was doing my devotions one morning, I came across the familiar passage (Luke 2:10) where the angel says, "I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all people..." Jesus came to Earth, to bring great joy. Not a little bit of joy, but a heavenful amount of joy. And not just for the spiritual, or the wealthy, or the beautiful, or the smart. For ALL people. Even me. Even when I don't feel particularly special, or motivated, or happy. Jesus came to Earth to bring great JOY, in the promise of freedom from sin, and a relationship with a heavenly Father. So I'm setting out on a journey to find jo...

As the sun rises here in Indiana, I want to share my favorite Easter song by Sandy Patti. Was it a morning like this When the Son still hid from Jerusalem? And Mary rose from her bed To tend the Lord she thought was dead. What is a morning like this When Mary walked down from Jerusalem? And two angels stood at the tomb, Bearers of news she would hear soon. Did the grass sing? Did the earth rejoice To feel You again? Over and over like a Trumpet underground, Did the earth seem to pound: “He is risen!” Over and over In a never ending round “He is risen, alleluia, alleluia!” Was it a morning like this When Peter and John ran from Jerusalem? And as they raced for the tomb, Beneath their feet was there a tune? Was it a morning like this When my Lord looked out On Jerusalem? He is risen, alleluia, alleluia!