By Kiera Rich – KRich13@bellsouth.net

Outlook went nuts this morning as it began downloading all of my email.  My box was absolutely jammed!  I was feeling very popular and really excited until I started wading through my inbox.  With the exception of a reminder from the library about some books I have due next week, every other piece of mail (All 29 of them.) was to remind me to “Hurry!” because I “Still have 2 shopping days until Christmas.”  You’ll probably be very happy to know, that if I order today and buy my stuff a plane ticket (Or the cost-equivalent thereof.) those helpful retailers will miraculously get my order under the tree by Christmas morning.  Wow.  I have never felt so cared for.  :::insert eye-roll here:::

I have recently been writing some curriculum that deals with the lies that society tells our kids.  The most startling thing I have learned in this writing process is that society ain’t just lying to kids — it’s feeding me a whole lot of bull too.  And, as much as I am ashamed to admit it, I have been consuming far more than my fair share of bull burgers.  And how did this happen?  I am pretty embarrassed to say that I really have no idea!

In response to this “bull burger” realization, I have begun to take a serious look at my life — beginning with my Christmas list.  For two years now, I have been looking for a Wii.  Yes, it’s true.  The Rich household — two adults, three cats, no kids — is desperately seeking a Wii.  It’s “Childless, Techo-Geek” consumers like me that steal Wii’s out from under the trees of little children everywhere.  A very Grinch-like thing to do.

However, I am happy to report that my hands are clean on this one.  We are still Wii-less because the dumb things are nearly impossible to find.  I say “nearly” because everyone else seems to find them just fine.  Everyone has one but me!  Did you hear the appropriate “whiney” tone in that last statement?  While we’re on the subject of what I want, I’d also like to travel extensively, have a new car, new furniture, a new house, a cleaning lady twice a week, Botox injections and plastic surgery for everything that is beginning to sag.  (Hey!  Be nice!  I turn 40 in less than 6 months!)

But what, out of that list, do I really need?  Absolutely none of it.  Nada.  Zip.  Zilch.  Yet it is most definitely the desire of my worldly, consumer heart.  I am bombarded with the message daily.  If I look better, have better stuff and, treat myself to frequent, luxurious vacations, I will ultimately be happier.  It’s a very nice thought.  It’s also the mother of all bull burgers.

Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart”.  Join me in a trip back to freshman geometry for this hypothesis/conclusion.  IF, I delight myself in the Lord, THEN He will give me the desires of my heart!   That’s pretty exciting stuff!  Upon first glance, it also paints God as the ultimate Santa-like figure.  If I just ask God for a Wii, He’ll deliver?  By Christmas?  Without paying an arm and leg for shipping?  Bull burgers with cheese!

Yes, God does promise to deliver; but only if I do something first — delight myself in Him.  It took me a long time to really understand this scripture.  Years in fact.  My heart’s desire was always to get married and have children.  That’s all I ever wanted and God seemed pretty much against this idea.  For one thing, I lived in a relatively small town which was not a dating hot-spot by anyone’s stretch of the imagination.  Another highly personal issue involved me working through a quagmire of tangled emotions surrounding marriage and divorce and personal failure.  This process was almost as painful as the initial crisis of my parent’s divorce which started the whole thing.

I was definitely bitter, as my friends all began to get married and settle down.  I pretty much felt like a constant 5th wheel and the punch-line to the question, “What’s wrong with this picture?”  And worst of all, I couldn’t figure out what God was thinking.  Didn’t He know that I wanted to get married?  How could He not?  I bugged Him about it daily!  So why didn’t He just deliver already?  :::Insert foot stomp here:::

I remember finally getting fed up and deciding that I was going to stop praying about my future husband — or lack thereof.  If God wanted me to wander the earth for the rest of my life in abject loneliness, I’d just have to figure out a way to build a bridge and get over it.  So stubbornness set in, driving a definite wedge between me and God for a season.  But as is His way, God was persistent — almost laughably so.  Psalm 37:4 began creeping up everywhere.  And I do mean EVERYWHERE!  It was part of a Bible study I was in.  It was a memory verse for some Sunday school curriculum that I was teaching.  It was the “Encouraging Word” on a local Christian radio station.  And yet, I still didn’t get it until one Sunday when I was trying to explain the passage to a bunch of 3rd graders.

“When God is our delight, we trust that He knows what is best for us and we begin to want what He wants.”  Oh really?  I had to pause and catch my breath as dozens of bells and whistles began going off in my head while alarms simultaneously screamed “HYPOCRITE ALERT!  HYPOCRITE ALERT!”    That was one of those Sundays that I walked away from class learning way more than I ever taught.  So I started praying again.  A simple prayer really.  It all began with, “Lord God, I trust You…”

And now, I’m ecstatically married — which, by the way, is way better than “happily married” — and I have not only what I need, I have the desires of my heart.  It’s incredibly difficult at times not to buy into the world’s bull burgers and waste my time and God’s by lusting after stuff I don’t need while ignoring what He wants for me.  No, there won’t be a Wii under our tree this year but I have the love and approval of my Savior and I share my earthly life with one very amazing man.

There is a lot of turmoil and uncertainty in the world right now.  It’s a pretty scary place for a lot of people and I don’t want to gloss over that in the least; but, in 3 days and 13ish hours, it will be Christmas.  Families will gather, Wii’s will be opened (No, I’m not bitter!), meals will be shared, and blessings will be counted. 

Galatians 5:22-23 says, “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control…”    These “things” are God’s desires for me this Christmas.  No they won’t be wrapped and under my tree but they are still precious gifts nevertheless.  But nothing is more precious than the gift God sent to earth in the form of a tiny baby — a tiny baby who would ultimately and willingly die to pay the price for my sins.

It truly is a wonderful life. Merry Christmas.

By Kiera Rich – KRich13@bellsouth.net

In 1979, all I wanted for Christmas was a rock tumbler.  I don’t know why.  I was 10, definitely in my “Arts & Crafts” phase and had visions of making jewelry for all my friends.  Besides, the rock tumbler just seemed like a really cool thing to have.

What I got for Christmas that year was a sleeping bag that was screen-printed to look like a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos.  Thankfully, it wasn’t “scratch & sniff”!  A week later, my parents told us they were divorcing.

On Christmas day of 1979, I was a child who wanted a rock tumbler.  On New Year’s day of 1980, I was a very young adult who would have returned every gift I’d ever gotten if it would fix a marriage I didn’t know was broken.

In 1992, Amy Grant released a Christmas CD with the song, “Grown-up Christmas List” on it.  Here are the lyrics in case you’re interested.  The song talks about Christmas wishes from an adult perspective and mentions things like wars never starting, everyone having a friend and “right” always winning out. 

I have always enjoyed the song and often wished I could add to it.  I’d like to add things like: no child ever having to choose between two parents and the word “family” actually having meaning to people again.

I thought it would be fitting for my first Christmas blog ever to be my own version of a “grown-up” Christmas list.  I will try to be succinct.  If I wrote down everything in this blog that I wish for everyone, I’d still be writing this come Christmas 2018.  I think Jeff may want Christmas dinner (Such as it is.) before then.

My Grown-up Christmas list (In no particular order.)

Every child would have someone outside of their immediate family who loves them unconditionally, who prays for them, who takes an interest in their life.  Someone who gently and lovingly shapes them into the person God wants them to be.

Every child would have the opportunity to learn how to play the musical instrument of their choice and have free access to a wide variety of books and recorded music.  They would also have unlimited art supplies, and all the time and encouragement necessary to create something that was pleasing — not to the world as a whole but just to the artist that I believe lives in every child.

Every child would have the opportunity for a good education.  Every child would have involved, patient, enthusiastic teachers — teachers who care enough to demand excellence from every student.

Every child would have the chance to attend a Broadway musical, see the “Nutcracker” at Christmas time, and experience all the sights and smells and sounds and heart-swelling patriotism of an amazing fireworks display with the “1812 Overture” booming in the background.

Every child would have the chance to travel — to see the oceans and the mountains.  To visit another culture, experience someone else’s life, and to see the places where history was made.

Every child would have a reliable hero.  A hero with no arrests, convictions, or even remotely unethical behavior of any kind.  They would have a hero who teaches good things simply by the life they lead.  Nobody — especially not a child — should have to witness a hero’s fall from grace.  Ask me sometime about the cat I named after O.J Simpson.

Every child would have a friend.  A best friend.  A friend that tells you the truth when you don’t want to hear it, doesn’t get jealous when you achieve something they don’t.  A friend who sits with you in the lunchroom when everyone else is teasing you about your smiley face underwear or the really bad perm your mom gave you over the weekend.

Every child would be loved.  Every child would have a childhood.  No child would be forced to grow up too quickly or to assume adult responsibilities and worries before they are adults.  No child would be hurt or lied to.  No child.  No where.  Not ever.

Every child would have a safe and warm place to live.  A place to go when the world is against them.  A place where they can express their thoughts and ideas without ridicule.  A place where they are valued and appreciated.  They would have access to good health care, enough good food to eat, enough warm clothes to wear, and enough time to simply enjoy it. 

And every child would have the opportunity to learn about the birth of baby Jesus and the plan that God had for His life and for their own life.

Every adult would have a job where they get paid enough to live on while doing something they love doing.  Nobody would have to work more than one job just to make ends meet.

Every adult would have the opportunity to own a home in a safe neighborhood and to experience the peace that comes from being able to call neighbors “friends”.

Every adult would have time to spend with their children.  Time to tell stories and chase butterflies and talk about important things like bugs and rocks and whether or not ducks wear pants.

Every adult would have a heritage and ancestors they were proud of and have the joy of knowing where they came from.

Every adult would have a hobby that they enjoyed doing, enough money to support said hobby, and people in their life that encourage them. 

Just like the kids, every adult should have a best friend too.  Someone who can be invited to a pity party.  Someone who will love them when they’re angry or irrational.  Someone who will take care of them or kick their hind-quarters – whichever reaction the situation calls for.  Someone who will lovingly point them to the truth, no matter how many times they need it.  Someone who will make them laugh even when nothing seems funny.

Every adult would have the chance and the resources to chase a dream.  Any dream will do.

Every adult would experience the joy and wonder that comes from being a victim of a random act of kindness.  Every adult would also experience the amazing feeling of passing on that random kindness to someone else.

Every adult would have a good doctor.  One that values their opinions and is willing to go the extra mile to help when the situation is warranted.

Every adult would have a mentor — someone who has been where they are and walked the path they’re walking.

Every adult would laugh daily, touch often, and be moved to tears by something beautiful at least once a year.

Every adult would know, because they’d been told, how they touched someone else’s life.

Every adult would be part of a growing, loving, soul-feeding church family. 

Every adult would have someone to care about them their entire life.  No, it doesn’t have to be the same person, just somebody.  Someone to read to them when their eyes can no longer make out the words.  Someone to go to the doctor with them when the diagnosis is scary.  Someone to listen to their stories — even though they’ve heard them all before.  Someone to send a birthday card even though they’ve seen more than 100 birthdays.  Someone to hold their hand and fight for dignity and peace and comfort in their death. 

And everyone would be spending Christmas with someone they love. 

I know I am.   I hope you are too.

Merry Christmas.

By Kiera Rich – KRich13@bellsouth.net

For many years I have had a day after Thanksgiving tradition.  With the Colorado/Nebraska football game on TV in the background, I put up my Christmas decorations.  This year, I did half of my tradition.  I watched Colorado beat Nebraska; but I didn’t put up decorations.  Due to a very stubborn case of Mono, I just didn’t have the strength.  The thought of dragging out the boxes, moving furniture,  unpacking everything, and attempting to cat-proof said decorations was beyond exhausting. 

My husband offered to do it for me but I turned him down.  I’m not sure why.  I guess I consider it to be my job and it’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing.  I kinda expected a bad case of the guilts for not decorating but oddly, I’ve felt pretty good about my decision to have Christmas sans the decorations this year.  I’m even a little bit proud to think that maybe I learned the lesson that the Grinch struggled so hard to grasp.   Christmas will come without ribbons! It will come without tags! It will come without packages, boxes, or bags!

Christmas will come.  Even if I stress out.  Even if I don’t decorate.  Even if not one bit of shopping gets done.  Even if our Christmas cards sit on my desk until the 4th of July.  Ready or not, Christmas will come.

I finally did cave in a little bit.  We’ve had a solid string of 75 degree days here in Atlanta over the last few weeks and it just wasn’t feeling much like the Colorado Christmases that I grew up with.  So I fired up Ellie Epson (My trusty printer.  Jeff has this weird habit of naming inanimate objects.  Bizarre!) and printed out a picture of a beautiful Christmas tree and then I taped it to the wall.  Oddly, the cats felt the need to chew on the paper tree — just like they do the genuine article.  So we’re decorated.  Sort of.  At least one little corner of our living room is beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

I have a small confession to make.  I love to play computer games.  Jeff and I have one, “Rise of Nations”, that we enjoy playing together.  It’s a world conquest type game.  We play on the same team so it’s a “us against the world” thing — kinda like real life sometimes.  There is nothing more satisfying than capping off a long, stressful day by nuking the nation who just raided my town and killed my well-intentioned but rather dim-witted civilians.  When the enemy stormed my town, my villagers continued to dutifully farm and chop wood rather than running for their little lives.  Probably not the best decision.

We rumble (Our verbiage for playing Rise of Nations.) nearly every weekend and even a few times during the week.  Every once in a while, I feel guilty for the time I spend conquering our pseudo-world.  Sure it’s fun.  It’s something I love to do with my husband.  Coming up with workable strategies is intellectually stimulating.  Believe it or not, I actually have learned a lot from playing the game.  However, it still takes time out of my life.   But, that’s ok.  I mean, in the grand scheme of things, hobbies are ok, right?

A few months ago, Tim Crater spoke at our church.  Tim has written several commentaries for Community Bible Study.  Although I’ve never actually met Tim, I’m incredibly thankful to him.  In the early 70’s, he started the church that Jeff and I now call home.  Dunwoody Community church was also where we were married and where several treasured friendships have begun.   When he visited our church, Tim spoke on the book of Revelation.   Revelation is a book that, for my entire life as a Christian, I have either feared or been totally confused by.  Tim presented God’s message out of the book in such a clear, understandable way.  For the first time ever, I felt like I “got” the gist of the book.  And that was incredibly exciting.

Signs pointing to the end times are all around us.  Y2K was supposed to be the end but here we are nearly 8 years later.   A lot of people have a lot of guesses as to when Jesus will return but the Bible makes things pretty clear in  Matthew 24:44.  Nobody will know when He’s coming – not scholars or children or hypocrites or thieves.  Not people who play computer games or those with great faith.  Not liars or teachers or preachers or loners or rebels or the sick or those who are well.  Nobody.

Jesus will come whether we are ready or not.  He will come if my house is dirty or the laundry is undone.  He’ll come even if the Aztecs storm my town and kill all my lemming-esque villagers.  He’ll come even if I’m nursing a grudge or arguing with my husband or telling a lie or speaking badly about a friend.  He’ll come if I waste my time or if I spend my time doing His work on earth.  Ready or not, He’ll come.

Over 2000 years ago, a tiny baby was born in a manger.  Jesus’ birth was supposed to change the world.  And it did.   10 days from now, Christmas 2007 will be over.  I’ll peel the tape off our tree on the wall and I’ll throw it away.   I can always print a new tree for 2008.   If there is a 2008.

Maybe this will be the year of Jesus’ return.  Maybe Black Friday will cease to exist.  Maybe we’ll spend the Christmas season not on our feet at the mall but sitting at the feet of the King.  Maybe. 

Are you ready?