Christmas Prayer - Soft as a Whisper

This post is one from the past that touched you as well as me - I hope it is meaningful again. Thanks for reading. 
 

Good morning Lord. This past week has been full of pressures and it has been hard to feel you at all.  If you were in it – I missed it. So here I sit this morning. The lights of the Christmas tree shining bright speaking of holiday, rejoicing and happiness; but I am weary.

Is this how it has always been? Is this what you expected and wanted? I know these questions I asked are stupid. But, what has happened? To shift my thoughts toward you I find it hard and uncomfortable, even scary. To even talk to you is uncomfortable and I feel afraid to come up close. Is it because of my smallness next to your vastness or your infiniteness next to my finiteness? Or my unavoidable death and your forever? Or is it you being all powerful and I being fragile and weak? There is also your complete and unlimited knowledge and then my lack of understanding and the questions that haunt me. And of course, there is always your holiness lighting up my sinfulness and then I want to hide.

I would have expected you to come in thunder or lightening or maybe even riding an asteroid, for after all you are God, the all powerful One. But no, you came softly in less than a whisper, as a baby, small, helpless, weak, fragile, in an obscure stable of all places.  Did you come in this manner so I would not be frightened and not run and hide? I wonder…..

I am trying to not hide, and I am thankful for the story, so sweet and I begin to inch close to you. But to read on, later the story turns sad, horrible, and I want to hide again. I read of your grief, your suffering, the tears you shed, the loneliness you felt, the rejection by those close to you, and then of course comes the real horror, a cross.

If that was the end, the story would have no meaning. But, then the story changes and lifts the sadness - the power of death is torn down by your resurrection. If I continue to hide and miss the story, it does not change its power does it? If I hide and ignore the story, it does not change the fact you came.  And that whisper, if I am not careful or quite, I will miss it and the story will have no effect.

Now that the rush is over, now that the presents have been place under the tree, help me be quiet, help me not miss hearing your whisper….

ROAD TRIP

The wife says – lets take a road trip

I say, that sounds great – where?

She says, anywhere lets just go.

I say, east – How about Thursday?

She says, yes

Here's the problem. As the week came closer to Thursday we thought how much better it would be to leave early – Wednesday night. Sounded like such a good idea at the time. I just want to say right now, leaving at 12:10 am Thursday morning is not Wednesday!! Right? Come on agree with me.

So here we are Thursday, early, in the car going where? We don't really know but I do know its east - 30 minutes into the drive she's asleep. Thanks for the conversation, it was short but it was sweet. Who knew the seat of a car is so much more comfortable than a real bed - GEEEEZ...

A MacDonald's is up ahead, I stop and get coffee – nothing else is going to keep me awake. 

Back on the freeway heading east, swing in behind a huge semi I start drafting – saves gas for those who are asking WHY? WHY? Its what I do – accept it. Two hours later I am about done and my coffee is gone. I can maybe make ½ hour more. Up ahead is a town large enough to have a hotel where they actually use fitted sheets (that is another story).

BTW – is it wrong to throw water melon rinds over the top of a car in the wee-morning hours into a bar pit? Just a moral dilemma that is kind of bugging me.

So here I sit typing this stupid blog post waiting for the woman of my dreams to wake up and I'm wondering – this is a road trip? And, where am I anyway? Oh yeah – east.

Sleeping in Chruch

The idea of going to church usually makes me groan but once I am there I rather like it......well except for the music. For years I get irritated when the music starts. I found the solution, and it works well; I don't even go into the sanctuary until the singing is over – it is awesome. Of course that might have something to do with my grandson keeping me company while we hang out in the foyer. Once I started getting grandpa duty during church I told him, “Don't worry Benjamin, Grandpa will not take you into the service until that devil music is over. Your young ears are way to tender for such noise.” Sometimes I worry that I am just being negative about the music. Last week the scripture. “make a joyful noise unto the Lord” came to mind and I wondered. Hmmmm....what if the music I'm hating God actually likes...that kinda puts me in a bad spot. So now I just try to increase my denial that the music is even happening by not thinking about it. Us men can do such things so I have been told. Heck, if God gave me that ability who am I not to use it? That's logical right?

That aside, the last two weeks I am wondering if maybe I am being a bad influence on my grandson. I know what you are thinking, 'only the last two weeks?' Stop those kind of thoughts right now....I am a good grandpa. Back to my conundrum, you see for the second week in a row while I am holding little Benjamin – right in the middle of the sermon, when my eye lids might be drooping just a bit, Benjamin goes to sleep. Now I am his grandpa, far be it from me to deny him what he wants. And, I know this is not about me (Hah!) but I get the best feeling all over when that little guy snugs into my shoulder and falls asleep.

Well, that's all I got. My whole reason for writing anything at all was so I had an excuse to post a couple of pictures of my grandson.

Just like Grandpa Grayquill

Where Has Grayquill Musings Been

If  you have tried to view my blog lately, you probably have been confused. As they say a machine is only as good as it operator. GoDaddy.com >GOOD....Grayquill>not so good.
Here is the last post you might have missed. Baby Cradle

Baby Cradle

I heard the other day that 80 percent of all baby cradles made in the United States are made by Grandpa’s. Well you know me I like being normal so here it is.