Tag Archives: Christmas

Bated

Bated: (n) in great suspense; very anxiously or excitedly.Dictionary B

When asked recently what would make the world a better place, without delay I replied, “Excitement.”

Feeling we are too mature to wiggle and squirm in anticipation, the average adult plows through a day’s activities without much emotion.

We call it control.

We insist it’s grown-up.

We fear the appearance of childishness, and in the process, lose the better parts of being childlike.

  • So we declare that “Christmas is for the children.”
  • The roller coaster was exciting, but well within the scope of our coping.
  • And romance and its pleasures are a matter of well-timed course.

Excitement is what allows us to believe that things can get better. If we are fully aware of all the possibilities, then we are no longer able to be surprised. And any creature who is incapable of being astonished at the beauty of creation soon loses the true significance of living.

I like to be excited.

Sometimes I like to excite myself, just to make sure it’s not broken.

But mostly, I feel the need to let my breath be bated by the beauty of something unknown. 

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Mr. Kringle’s Tales … 26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

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“The best Christmas stories I’ve ever read!”

From the toy shop to the manger, an advent calendar of Christmas stories, beginning on November 30th and ending on Christmas morning.

We need a good Christmas this year.

Mr. Kringle’s Tales will help you make it so.

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Bassoon

Bassoon: (n) a bass instrument of the oboe family with a double reed.Dictionary B

If the goal of every endeavor is to gain fame or money, then we will end up doing very little in our lives–for fear of ending up with something that fails to deliver the goods.

I learned this early.

I made a decision to pursue things that made me happy, giggle or feel inspired. Whether other people found them to be equally as inspirational or entertaining was only secondary to my deep-rooted concern for entertaining myself.

In the process of chasing that philosophy, I found myself in Tennessee working with a partner to begin a symphony in a town that probably was completely uninterested in even learning how to spell the word.

Intelligently, we held our first concert very near Christmas and because of that and the basic human nature to be curious, we had a huge attendance, which seemed to bode well for the project.

I was so excited about the event that I wrote a special composition called Christmas. This particular piece of music began with a sprightly bassoon solo, establishing a bouncy, joyous melody which to me personified the uncontrollable anticipation of a child at Christmas.

We hired a bassoon player who just happened to really love playing the instrument. He didn’t get to perform very often in Tennessee, since there isn’t a high calling for bassoonists among the populace. So when he discovered he was going to get to play this delightful ditty, he practiced and practiced–and by the time of the concert, he literally exploded the musical magic off of his double reed.

When the audience heard the tune being played, they giggled like school children because it was such a pleasant representation of childhood memories.

I love the bassoon because it cannot hide its true personality. It is a growly, jubilant tone foretelling of grandfatherly wisdom … with just enough mischief.

 

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Don’t let another Christmas go by without purchasing Jonathan’s bestselling Christmas book!

Mr. Kringle’s Tales … 26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

Click here to read all about Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories Til Christmas! Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

Click here to read all about Mr. Kringle’s Tales…26 Stories Til Christmas! Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

 

“The best Christmas stories I’ve ever read!”

From the toy shop to the manger, an advent calendar of Christmas stories, beginning on November 30th and ending on Christmas morning.

We need a good Christmas this year.

Mr. Kringle’s Tales will help you make it so.

Buy today.

"Buy

 

 

 

Barrier

Barrier: (n) a fence or other obstacle that prevents movement or access.Dictionary B

Prejudice is not just what I feel. It is also what is felt.

Candidly, I can have the most open heart in the world and be confronted with closed minds. Prejudice does not go away until the barriers are torn down.

A fence is a confirmation that isolation is required.

So when we talk about culture, customs and attributes of a particular race or nationality, we are creating barriers. Therefore we become overly optimistic about our ability to accept difference.

We are only able to comprehend difference when it contains some elements of similarity. In other words, “this is the way you celebrate Christmas, and it’s like the way I celebrate Christmas in this way.”

I am greatly concerned that in our attempt to tout universality, we are actually building walls between one another which only force us into deeper loneliness.

  • I don’t like barriers. I tear them down.
  • I don’t like it when people say that some clump reacts in a certain way.
  • I don’t like it when religion is used to separate the sheep from the goats, instead of finding unity within the herd.
  • I don’t like barriers of righteousness or boundaries of nuisance.
  • What will it take for us to finally realize that the more we try to be open-minded, the less we’re actually able to focus our love and attention?

Barriers tell us we’re different.

They are dangerous because once we believe we’re different … we quietly start pursuing our differences.

 

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Don’t let another Christmas go by without purchasing Jonathan’s bestselling Christmas book!

Mr. Kringle’s Tales … 26 Stories ‘Til Christmas

Click here to read all about Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories Til Christmas! Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

Click here to read all about Mr. Kringle’s Tales…26 Stories Til Christmas! Only $5.99 plus $1.25 shipping and handling.

 

“The best Christmas stories I’ve ever read!”

From the toy shop to the manger, an advent calendar of Christmas stories, beginning on November 30th and ending on Christmas morning.

We need a good Christmas this year.

Mr. Kringle’s Tales will help you make it so.

Buy today.

"Buy

 

 

 

Axe

Axe: (n) a hand tool with one side of its head forged and sharpened to a cutting edge

It has been my discovery that trying to tell stories about my physical prowess always leaves the hearers a little suspicious.dictionary with letter A

Even though this tends to offend me, I have to be honest and say that when I hear others explain to me how strong they are or how powerful they perceive themselves to be, I am torn between laughing out loud and finding a quick way to exit.

Such was my experience with the axe.

When I was a kid, my dad grew some pine trees which we eventually used as Christmas trees for our house, since there weren’t enough of them to ever constitute a good cord of wood.

So it fell my lot one season to go out and chop down the Christmas tree and bring it back to the house.

I was thrilled (as most fools are on the way to the errand).

I had never wielded an axe. Matter of fact, I was quite pleased that I knew using an axe involved wielding.

So when I arrived next to the pine I had selected, I looked at it and noticed that the trunk was really only about five or six inches across. How hard could this be?

Now, I do not know whether the bottom of my pine was made of steel, or if my axe was not made of actual metal–but I must have hacked at that thing for a good twenty-five minutes, never succeeding in hitting the same place twice.

So when it finally tumbled over (glory be to God) the trunk looked like a pencil that a beaver had chewed up.

I carried it back to the car and into the house, found some way to get it into the tree stand, feeling a great sense of accomplishment.

But I can tell you–for the next week and a half, I could not move my arm nor my shoulder, to such an extent that I missed a day of school, to lay in my bed commiserating over my axe fiasco.

So looking for an adequate summary for this tale, I will borrow a bit of wisdom from my African-American brothers and sisters:

I will never again “axe” for an axe.

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Autumn

Autumn: (n) the third season of the year

I hear people say it all the time: “I love the four seasons.”dictionary with letter A

I assume they’re referring to spring, summer, autumn and winter.

Every time I overhear the words, I ask myself, do you agree with that? And I realize I don’t.

I actually like two seasons. Unfortunately, there is no climate in the world that allows for the exclusive pair I prefer.

I like summer and autumn.

Spring has too much rain, buzzing bees and sneezes.

Winter…well, it’s cold.

But summer is warm and autumn gives me the tremendous sensation of flashing back to boyhood.

Magnificent things happen in the autumn when you’re a kid.

  • You go back to school.

At first you hate it, but then you realize that your friends are there and they make great jail mates.

  • Football.

Yes, autumn is the best season for football. Growing up in Ohio, there was just enough chill in the air that you had to wear a sweater or a hoodie, and could almost see your breath in the air.

  • Halloween.

Even if you didn’t dress up in a costume, the holiday afforded donuts and candy and all the things forbidden for rest of the year, but for some reason were sugar- and calorie-free on All Hallow’s Eve.

  • And of course, autumn showcases the beautiful gathering for Thanksgiving.

To me, Thanksgiving is the definition of family–even more than Christmas, when we’re busy buying and receiving presents. It’s a time when we actually have to sit together, over-consume food and converse. Although dangerous, it is a blessing.

I was kind of saddened when autumn became fall.

It must have been a similar reaction that God felt when love was only defined as sex.

There’s nothing “fall”en about autumn.

It is a beautiful season which confirms that the things that bloom must eventually die … to make room for a new possibility.

 

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WITHIN

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Aspect

Aspect: (n) a particular part or feature of something. dictionary with letter A

Singers should be happy.

Even though I am fully aware there are sad songs, at the end of performing such a dirge, there should be a return to hopeful joy and happiness. It is an aspect of their character which must be manifested in order for them to be of value to the human tribe.

In like manner:

Accountants should be good with numbers. It would be nice if they weren’t grouchy. But since I don’t want to number crunch all the time, the aspect of their character that I am most interested in is accuracy.

We have become too complacent in accepting mediocre ideas simply because we’ve given up on the possibility of things being right.

Politicians should be forthcoming. Just because they aren’t does not mean that we shouldn’t continue to expect that aspect.

Preachers should be non-judgmental and full of the gospel of hope. Honestly, damn them if they’re any other way.

Mothers and fathers should instill confidence in their children instead of forcing them to rebel out of too much worry and interference.

Christmas should be celebrated with joy instead of beleaguered with droll souls who want to point out how “it can really be a sad time of the year.”

There are certain aspects of our journey which need to remain faithful to the common cause of sanity. Otherwise we will begin to accept the banal as the normal.

I am a writer. It is my job to inspire.  To hell with the notion that I’m presenting a dark reality which is the underbelly of society.

It is time for us to enlighten one another instead of extinguishing the fires of hope … pretending it is an action of intellectual maturity.

 

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Arise

dictionary with letter A

Arise: (v) to get or stand up.

Laying in my bed on Christmas night, I was caught between the world of fatigue and the itch of possibility. I wasn’t sure whether to surrender or scratch.

The reason I was fatigued is because a mixture of aging, obesity and over-activity had left me nearly defunct.

Yet deep within my soul, the little boy who totes my dreams was anxious to see better. So as I have often done, rather than giving into the old man, I allowed my spirit to hobble to its feet, to chase the nymph of possibility.

When I finally caught up with him, I asked him, “What is it you want?”

He uttered one word alone.

“Arise.”

I realized what a poetic word it truly is. Its meaning has commanded armies and raised a Savior from the dead.

I looked at the little messenger with bewilderment. Finally I asked, “How shall I arise?”

He said:

“Arise from being satisfied, walk out of your contentment and be willing to be a bit confused for a season, so at the end you might be illuminated.

Arise from your fear of insufficiency and dare to empty yourself of what you have, and challenge the storehouse of God to refill.

Arise and see the world before you as an opportunity instead of a problem

Arise and look at your brothers and sisters as family instead of aliens.

And by the way, arise from the table before you eat too much.”

He giggled and ran away and I tried to follow to the best of my ability, lagging behind. I thought to myself:

Lagging behind hope was much better than dwelling in piety.

 

 

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Alfredo

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alfredo: (n) a sauce for pasta incorporating butter, cream garlic and Parmesan cheese.

There are very few surprises.

Well, I guess the fact that avocados are high in calories is a little alarming, considering how little taste they offer for the load. But generally speaking, you can taste–or really just look–at a dish of food and know that it is killer with everything that produces the fat and sugars which make us bounce out of the room in our “rotundness.”

Such is alfredo sauce.

It’s almost comical, isn’t it? It seems to me that the times in my life that I’ve eaten fettuccine alfredo, I have found myself screaming at the world around me, “What the hell! Leave me alone! I’m gonna go out with a fork in my hand and a smile on my face!”

  • Butter. Come on. Can anything be more symbolic of excess?
  • Cream.
  • Parmesan cheese.
  • And then, on top of that, to create a noodle that is larger and wider than spaghetti–a four-lane carb–to make sure you don’t lose one single drop of this exorbitantly-caloried sauce, is a proclamation of insanity portrayed as a declaration of eating independence.

I once walked by a plate of fettuccine alfredo–without consuming it, merely viewing it–and went to the scale, having gained three pounds. My eyeballs had absorbed the richness through visual osmosis.

It’s much like America. Watching a little piece of Dr. Oz the other day as they were discussing how to take kale and turn it into chips by baking it in the oven, a commercial came on afterwards advertising the new Wendy’s double-bacon, avocado, guacamole cheddar cheese burger.

I love this country. We talk such a good game–and then we decide never to play it.

We think putting on public service announcements about childhood obesity will cover the problem as we continue to dangle saturated fats and sugary confections in front of our children like Christmas ornaments lit up by tiny little bulbs.

They tell me people in Italy eat lots of pasta, and don’t have heart trouble. All I know is, if they’re eating fettuccine alfredo, they should be prepared … well, they should be prepared … to die.

Advent

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Advent: (n) the first season of the church year, leading up to Christmas and including the four prior Sundays.

Even with the introduction of an Easter bunny bringing candy, we are not able to market the crucifixion and resurrection nearly as easily as the birth of the Prince of Peace.

I suppose that makes some people fussy. They would be the same people who insist that “Christmas is too commercial” or that manger scenes should be mandatory everywhere in spite of civil liberties.

Actually, I take this little piece of information as a harkening. Isn’t that a great word? “Harkening.” A harkening is a quiet shout, informing us of something truly important.

Much as we may need salvation, we are still doing our time on earth before we’re paroled to heaven. Like some people in prison, we can use that sentence to become worse criminals, mean and even turn into killers–OR we can go to the library, study and get more education, find new life and emerge from the experience overjoyed because we have redeemed the time.

I think that’s what happens at Advent.

For about thirty-two days, we allow ourselves to wonder if it might be possible that a baby changed the world–and more importantly, caused us to loosen our purse strings, buy a present for someone else and think about abstract ideas like “peace on earth” and “goodwill toward men.”

If heaven is better than earth, then earth is a place where we’re supposed to learn how to become heavenly, don’t you think?

So merely saving people from their sin does not cause them to learn to win.

  • That takes the Advent.
  • This demands Christmas.

It is a season when we actually believe that a child born of peasants can stir the heavens, beckoning both shepherds and kings.