A gift with a difference.

It is uncle Baden's fault. I received a Christmas card from him a couple of weeks ago, but, then, this year he decided to spend Jesus's birthday with Christ himself. He departed a few days before Christmas in his ninety-fifth year.
So last night, I found myself in Glen Innes. Steve and I had decided to drive to Uncle's funeral in Newcastle. We are on holidays after all.  Choosing the New England highway, one of his favourite roads, we left home yesterday about lunch time and skirting the heavy traffic we soon were enjoying stunning scenery. As we drove over Cunningham's Gap, through farm lands, wineries, orchards and rocky hills we were like kids in a candy shop. 'Look at that rocky bluff...the spot of sun on that hill...the shaft of light slicing through the clouds...the crop of tomatoes...the bolt of lightening over the purple hills. We could feel our souls being restored as only God's nature can.
The day was perfect for driving. Storm clouds provided a constantly changing backdrop to green hills, red cows and trees sparkling in the freshly washed sunlight.
Instead of the planned stay at the coast for these few days, we were far from the madding crowds, enjoying an evening of misty rain and an expected low of ten degrees at night.
Today we drove a road called Thunderbolts Way, for us, uncharted territory, unexplored wonder. Passing through miles of lush pasture land, towering gums, mountains and rushing rivers we stopped at a goat cheese factory to sample wondrous flavours whilst the goats were being milked outside. Ah, how I love this amazing country!
If we enjoy driving so much, why does it require a necessity to push us out of our rut and get us on the road?
God made the world for us to enjoy and I realise that in my tiredness I have neglected to worship Him in His creation for a few weeks. Maybe that is why I have been so tired!
Thanks Uncle Baden for your parting gift to us. This trip to farewell you has been a wonderful blessing.

He has His Father's eyes

   She doubled over in pain, her hand pushed into her lower back.
   'Please, Mary. Ride on the donkey. If you keep walking you'll have the baby beside the road.'
   'The donkey's back is so hard.'
   Joseph rummaged in his bag and pulled out another coat. Folding it, he placed it on the donkey's back and lifted his wife. 'I'll walk beside you. Lean on me, but lets keep moving.'
   Can you imagine trying to sit on a donkey when in the early stages of labour? I guess the discomfort took her mind off the baby. She must have had so many questions.
   Her baby was a boy, she was sure of that. But what would the son of God look like? Would he look like her or like his Father? And what did his Father look like? She had never seen God. Yes, the angel said God would overshadow her and she would become pregnant, but my guess is she didn't even know when that had happened, much less get a glimpse of the baby's Father.
   So when the Son of God emerged from her womb into the smelly stable, like any mother, she must have grabbed him and studied him carefully. Not to count fingers and toes, but to see...to see God. Mary was the first person to come face to face with God. I can imagine her gazing with awe and wonder. 
   And then he opened His eyes. She connected with the King of Kings, not body to body but soul to soul, spirit to Spirit. It took her breathe away.
   'He has His Father's eyes.' 
   Joseph looked over her shoulder at the baby. 'What do you mean?'
   'His eyes. They are so deep, pure, clear. It's like he looked into my very heart and I could see into His heart. Never before have I seen such love. Oh, He is the Son of God!'
   Her baby squirmed and she lifted him to her breast. He latched onto her nipple and sucked. 'He loves me, Joseph. I saw it in His eyes. He loves me.'
   'The angel told me that he would save the people from their sins.' Joseph stroked the cheek of the feeding infant. 'I guess He loves everyone, Mary, everyone.'
   The moment was broken by a slight tap on the wall of the stable. 'There He is. Just as the angels said.' The shepherds were panting hard. 'Sorry Ma'am, we ran all the way. Did you know your baby is the Messiah?'
   Baby Jesus stirred and opened His eyes.
   Mary pulled back the cloths so the shepherds could see. 'I know. Look. He has His Father's eye's - eyes of love.'

King Size Bed?

For the last ten years I have written a poem for my Christmas card. 

This year the mind is blank....

Can I send out my card with out crazy poetry?

This is last years poem.

God in a manger?

King of Kings - born in poverty?

Creator of the World

Born of the created?

Unbelievable! Inconceivable!

Born of a virgin?

Conceived by the Holy Spirit?

The God of all Gods

Reduced to a sperm?

How can that be?

The creator carried by His own created one

Baby Jesus nourished by mankind

Pushing through a birth canal

Trusting His future to one family?

My God! All this for me?

You chose to experience my experience

Suffer my sufferings

Die to open the door to my eternity?

My God! How I love thee!

Jo Wanmer

Helter skelter

Get out of the way

We’re on an important trip

Hope we find him today!!

The King of Kings

That’s what the star does say

Just imagine … king over all other kings..

Herod, Do you know where he is, I pray?

For he is our Lord, our saviour

He’ll change the world, make it new

We want to go and worship him

Do you want to come and worship too?

King over all kings you say

Um now let me see …

The scholars say ‘Try Bethlehem’

But you must come back and tell me

I’ll find that baby and bring him in

He must be destroyed and it must be now

I won’t have another king

I won’t have anyone making me bow

There will always be Herod’s attacking my King

Faith stealers, hope destroyers

Who just ruin everything

And there will always be wise men seeking my King

Passionate eager and determined

Just longing to worship the king

Helter skelter

Get out of the way

We’re on an important trip

We are seeking the King today!!

Jo Wanmer 2008

Christmas is coming, ready or not!

   I did it. I have pulled my head out of the sand and faced the fact. Christmas is nearly here.
It's not that I don't like Christmas. I'm not ready. They must be scheduling it twice a year now. It was only the other day that I pulled the tree down and stored it in the shed. Now there are voices everywhere demanding its return to my living room.
   Santa arrived at our local Westfield store about two weeks ago. I know that because my granddaughters were two of the elves that escorted him, along with a strange mix of animals, into the centre. I can understand Santa wanting to escape from his exile at the North Pole, but his timing is affecting all of us.
   My gift cupboard isn't ready for Christmas. Nor is my pantry. My daughter-in-law has been asking where we are gathering for the celebrations. I have been  plugging my fingers in my ears and singing, 'lalal alala,' very loudly.

   However, yesterday I was briefly inspired. I pulled down my book display and replaced it with Christmas decorations. I even added three pieces of tinsel to the house. The plan is to add a little bit more each day so that I ease into the season gently.
   Today I placed my little nativity figurines in front of my fireplace. Even though baby Jesus is already in the feeding trough, but I began thinking about Mary walking to Bethlehem carrying her unborn baby. And as a grandmother, I've been thinking about Mary's Mum and Joseph's Mum. I wonder how those grandmas were feeling as they waited for the pending birth. I sympathise with them. My guess is the community of Nazareth didn't buy the angel story. I can hear the women outside the synagogue whispering now. 
   'That's the worst excuse I've ever heard for turning up at your wedding, large with child! I hear she says its God's son. Blasphemy! She should have been stoned! I don't know what Joseph is thinking! He should have demanded her punishment  Oh! Don't give me that story about an angel in a dream. God stopped speaking four hundred years ago. Disgusting it is...'

    Being a grandma is a wonderful experience, unless the baby is out of timing, or something goes wrong. This whole episode must have seemed like a nightmare to these Grandmothers who were part of the earthly family chosen as to raise the Son of God. I wonder did they understand, or were they so consumed by the sorrow surrounding the illegitimate child they couldn't hear the story their children were telling?
   There would have been many who judged Mary and Joseph, not knowing, or being willing to accept the truth. I'm sure our Lord's family suffered gossip and rejection for years.
    Today, as I place my little Mary and Joseph beside the crib, I'm challenged again. How often do I judge others without understanding their full story?What if I poured contempt on someone when, in truth, it was God doing something unusual in an unexpected way? 
    Pausing, I realise I'm closer to the Christmas spirit than I thought. Maybe I'll go and play, 'Joy to the World.'

Tiny Aerodynamic Flying Machines

   Flicking my clean white sheets over my guest bed I noticed something dark. A feather had attached itself to my washing. Picking it off, I dropped it in the waste paper basket. Simple, right? No! First it didn't want to leave my finger and then instead of dropping into the bin it decided to float down. Gently, slowly and indirectly. It eventually hit the floor but missed the bin.
   Fascinating. The aerodynamics of one single feather. No wonder a bird flies so effortlessly. Each spread wing is covered with hundreds of these little flying machines, who individually want to float and never touch the ground.
   Have you ever watched a feather fall from the sky, a bird-less sky, and wonder where it came from? Well now we know! The bird, after discarded its feather, has flown a kilometre while the little feather has floated and danced its way towards the ground.
   Recently, while walking, I observed a spinning top falling to the road in front of me. Well, it looked like a spinning top. It had a pointy end and was turning quickly as it dropped from the sky. Yes, it was a feather. Not one of the soft fluffy ones, but a strong, slender one. It dropped, shaft first, and turned on its own axis as it fell. Then another fell right in front of me.
   Again I stand in awe at the wonder of creation, and its creator. Each bird created with different styled and shaped aerodynamic feathers covering their whole body!

    And the colours! I've picked up so many that have a dab of blue here and then a slash of pink, or a spot of brown, or even bright aqua. Then there are the soft fluffy bits at the end of each feather that keep the bird's body cool and dry, like waterproof pyjamas incorporated into the flying suit. Ah, yes. Did I say that my God is exceedingly clever!
   So today I worship Him, for I, too am fearfully and wonderfully made, even if I can't fly! What makes you stop in awe, as we delight in this wonderful world we live in?

Who is accountable in Child Sexual Abuse debacle.

   I welcome Julia Gillard's decision to have a Royal Commission into Child Sexual Abuse within institutions in our nation. Child sexual abuse is disgraceful, disgusting, devastating and a blot on any society. It has also been part of our society since 'Adam was a boy.' It entered the world when Adam and Eve opened the door to 'knowledge.' 

   After eating the fruit that promised them the knowledge of good and evil, one of their first understandings was shame. "Oh, My Goodness! I'm naked. Adam stop looking at me like that!' When evil enters, sexual perversion follows. Fact.

   Our society constantly opens the door to evil. It dominates our television screens, it screams at us from bill boards, it leers at us from news-stands and parades down our streets. Sex is used to sell anything and everything. It lures our young men and women from the screen in their palm. It is socially acceptable in society between any consenting adults, regardless of gender or marital status. Masturbation is considered normal. Partner swapping, group sex and nameless other activities abound. 

   Why, then, are we surprised to discover sexual perversion has an appetite for children. If you let the colt out of a paddock, it is very hard to reign him in and bring him back under control. As a society we have relinquished control of explicit sexual viewing. gizmodo.com.au informs me 

"Every second,28,258 people access pornography, and 70% of adult men visit porn sites every month. Of all porn uses, one in three are women."

   Even our children are increasingly exposed to pornography, which in its self is a form of child sexual abuse.

   "Children in Australia have extensive exposure to pornography. Just under three-quarters (73 per cent) of boys and 11 per cent of girls report that they have watched an X-rated video. Eighty-four per cent of boys and 60 per cent of girls say they have been exposed accidentally to sex sites on the Internet and two in five boys deliberately use the Internet to see sexually explicit material, with four to five per cent doing so frequently."
(Clive Hamilton & Michael Flood in the Australia Institute's 2003 Regulating Youth Access to Pornography study (PDF) and Youth and Pornography in Australia) 

   Evil is ravenous, narcissistic, and self serving. It has no regard for age, standing or gender. Maybe the best known example of evil in modern times is Hitler's regime. Babies, the elderly, male and female were all victims of barbarism in Germany. As long as evil is allowed to rule, our little ones will suffer.

Yes, this Royal Commission will undercover horror stories and there will be consequences for perpetrators and for those who have chosen to protect the guilty. But, as that happens, lets ask ourselves a question. What has been my part in allowing such sexual degradation to enter our society? What can I do to fight the flood of evil that parades into our living rooms and mobile devices every second of every day?