the resting day

        Today’s Saturday, and it’s probably bursting with errands and bill paying and shopping and catching up on work and things around the house.  You’ll have to move at quite a clip to get even half way through your list.  It’s the usual Saturday hustle, but with the added pressure of all the Christmas to-do’s.  And that’s no problem, as long as they don’t sneak over into tomorrow, because tomorrow’s Sunday, and Sunday’s special.  It's a present.  It’s your resting day.  It’s the one day you don’t have to scramble.  There's always an army of things clamoring to get done, so you have to be careful.  You have to say yes to Sunday while it’s still Saturday. 

“There is such a thing as sacred idleness, the cultivation of which is now fearfully neglected.” George MacDonald

thank You

        A friend’s six-year-old looked her in the eye at bedtime one night last week and said, “Mom, what’s the deal about Santa?”  He wants to know if the story’s true.  That’s a brave and honest question.  I want to ask a brave and honest question, too: is the Christmas story true?  Was God really born in a stable, or is it all just make-believe?  If it’s true, I want to fill today with thank-Yous.  I want to say thank You with my time and my money and my words and every ounce of my energy.   I don’t want to live any more “no, thank you” days.

"There is a secret too great to be told." George MacDonald

Handel's Messiah

        I invite you to find a few quiet moments today to listen to part of Handel's Messiah.  (If you don't have the CDs, a google search will provide plenty of other options.)  Before you listen, read the account below of how Handel composed the Messiah.  Clearly, this music was given us a gift.  May we so receive it.

        "[Handel] drove himself relentlessly to recover from one failure after another, and finally his health began to fail. By 1741 he was swimming in debt. It seemed certain he would land in debtor’s prison.

        On April 8 of that year, he gave what he considered his farewell concert. Miserably discouraged, he felt forced to retire from public activities at the age of fifty-six. Then two unforeseen events converged to change his life. A wealthy friend, Charles Jensen, gave Handel a libretto based on the life of Christ, taken entirely from the Bible. He also received a commission from a Dublin charity to compose a work for a benefit performance.

        Handel set to work composing on August 22 in his little house on Brook Street in London. He grew so absorbed in the work that he rarely left his room, hardly stopping to eat. Within six days part one was complete. In nine days more he had finished part two, and in another six, part three. The orchestration was completed in another two days. In all 260 pages of manuscript were filled in the remarkable short time of 24 days.

        Handel never left his house for those three weeks. A friend who visited him as he composed found him sobbing with intense emotions. Later, as Handel groped for words to describe what he had experienced, he quoted St. Paul saying, "Whether I was in the body or out of my body when I wrote it I know not." Handel’s title for the commissioned work was simply, Messiah."

For unto us a child is born. . . .

These words were written 700 years before the birth of the Christ child --

"[H]e shall make it glorious . . . Galilee. . . . 

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light.

Those who live in a dark land, the light will shine on them.

You will multiply the nation.  You will increase their gladness.

They will be glad in Your presence as with the gladness of harvest. . . .

for unto us a child will be born, a son will be given to us.

And the government will rest on His shoulders,

and His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,

Eternal Father, Prince of Peace." Isaiah 9:2-7.