My Writing Journal

“What’s With This Manger Thing Anyway?”

December 2007

 

When I first came to Church of Christ Protestant Church eight years ago after being brought up Catholic, I approached a deacon at Christmas time and asked him “where is the manger?” Having always had one on display in my home when I was growing up I thought it was a simple question. The deacon looked at me with surprise and said “Our church doesn’t have one.” Looking back equally surprised I said….”Why not?”

  The deacon then continued to tell me the church didn’t have any Nativity statues. He explained that he, personally, never had a Nativity scene and a manger on display in his home and asked me what significance these plaster statues could possibly bring to the Christmas story. I went on to share with him and the pastor of our church the following story. I was then given permission to bring in an extra small Nativity I had from home to place in our church. That Christmas Eve, as I sat in the loft and looked down at the Nativity the church placed on the piano, I was certain I knew the answer to the question that deacon had proposed to me….”What is it with this manger thing anyway?”

         Growing up, my family and I lived in an apartment building in the Queens section of   New York City, a neighborhood rich in Italian and German heritage.   We didn’t live on one of those serene side streets made famous by Archie Bunker in All In The Family. No, we lived on a main road, in a six family apartment building. The  apartments were   above a bakery and a candy store. The apartment I shared with my family was on the top  floor.

     I guess others would say it was noisy, living above the sounds of the buses and sirens. Some may think that to be a bad thing, but not me. Being up on the top floor allowed me to look out on a world few others could see. I looked out over rows of other houses, across to Brooklyn and then to Manhattan. I looked out at the World Trade Center on one end of Manhattan and the ever changing colors of the top of the Empire State Building on the other. I had a front row seat to every holiday parade, as I saw from my bedroom window the marchers coming long before everyone else down on the street could see them.  I could see the city bus coming for blocks away so my brother and I could run down and take it to school everyday just in time. And at Christmas time, I was the only one of my friends who had a large lit wreath, a Santa and a candle that were part of the city’s Christmas lights that arched from my bedroom window to the other side of the street.

     Remembering Christmas time in the city brings back many cherished childhood memories, but none are so special than when the time came for my father to announce…”It’s time to get out the box of Christmas decorations “.  Now it was not like we went into the closet or up the attic stairs and simply took out a box.  No, in my house this was a major event.

    Tenants who live in an apartment building in the city each have for their “attics” an assigned 8 x 10 foot section down in the basement we called, “the bin”. These bins were old coal bins from back in the days. The “bin” was dark and creepy and was never my favorite place to be. Each year Dad and I would make our long trek down all the “flights” of stairs to take out “the box”.  We’d open the big padlock of our bin, and there, among the bicycles and bowling balls, way in the back, was a handmade brown wooden box that had been painted more times than it needed. Together we’d lug it up the stairs as we heard Mom yelling from the top of the hall   banister “be careful!”, as if she was certain we wouldn’t be. Finally making it to our living room floor, my parents would start. 

At first, when I was young, I used to just watch them in utter amazement. It was like a ceremony. First the old laminated pictures of my brother and I crying on Santa’s lap at Macy’s would be placed on the television. Each piece of overused crumpled tissue paper was then unwrapped, as delicate glass ornaments magically appeared in Dad’s hands. These ornaments were family heirlooms. Glass bulbs that once adorned the Christmas trees of my German ancestors. I watched in amazement as Mom succeeded in making tinsel hanging an art form. Each strand of tinsel was separated from the next and carefully placed on each branch of our artificial tree, so when she was done the tree looked like it had put on a silver coat.  And then, there way at the bottom of the box lie the treasure. A faint smile would come over Dad’s face as he reached in and unwrapped each hand painted statue of the Nativity that were brought to this country from Germany by my Grandparents. The colors were faded and some were chipped, but Dad never noticed. I watched as he ceremoniously spread out the hay and placed each statue in its proper place inside the wooden manger he had made by hand many years before.   He placed in all the statues, except for one. That One would have to wait.   Dad never allowed the Christ Child to be placed in the manger until Christmas morning. He showed us his love and respect for his King by making us wait in joyful anticipation. Our house was wonderfully different on Christmas morning, for not a song was played, food put in the oven or present unwrapped until my brother and I argued over who would have the honor of placing Baby Jesus in His rightful place between Mary and Joseph in the manger. Then Dad would say “Now, it’s Christmas.”  But this is far from the end of my story.

     After all the presents were opened, the meals were eaten and the relatives long gone home, I waited until everyone was asleep.  I would sneak out of my bed in the dark, turn on the tree lights and lie there on the floor staring at the manger.  It was so peaceful and quiet. No city noise in there. Just Jesus and me. We had many great conversations under that tree from when I was a small child to a teenager as I tried to figure out what was so special about this tiny baby statue. And then, one year it came to me. A question that forever changed my life. I remember asking Him, “I heard you could give this thing called everlasting life. Can you come into my heart and bring it to me too?”  Needless to say, my life has never been the same.

     Some years later, after I had married and moved to Connecticut, my father called and with great sadness he said.” There was a fire in the basement. He escaped by going to the iron fire escape that was outside my bedroom window. He then said to me,” We lost the box.”  All of it was gone.

     Dad has since passed away. Ironically he died suddenly the week after Christmas. I was glad I was able to have that one last Christmas with him. He never knew about my times under the tree with the manger and the faith that was born in me from the simple honor of his actions.  But, oh Daddy, what you did not know, what you could not know, is that we didn’t loose anything in that fire.  It’s all right here in my heart where you put it.  It’s been there every year, when in my own home on Christmas morning no presents could be opened until my children argued over who would put Baby Jesus in the manger. Dad taught us all that Christmas couldn’t start without Jesus.

   We all see different things when we look at a manger scene at Christmas time. Many are reminded of God’s love, many experience a brief moment of heavenly peace as they gaze upon the scene. Others find comfort in remembering the night when we were given God’s greatest gift.   But none of us should ever look at a manger and assume it’s just a bunch of little statues. It is so much more, if only we turn on the lights and look.

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Who I Say He Is...

 I have been and always will be a Christian. I have always lived with the knowledge that I have absolutely no doubt in my mind I will enter heaven when I die. I will do so, not by my own worthiness, but only through the merits of Jesus Christ, my Savior, who paid the price for my soul’s redemption through his death on the cross. I have lived with my faith all through childhood always knowing it was there, but not until adulthood have I studied it and embrace it as truth.

There are many who have different views of Jesus. Muslims believe He was born of a virgin, lived a sinless life, ascended to heaven and will return to our planet at the end of history--but they do not believe that he was divine. Many Buddhists and Hindus view him as an enlightened teacher. Many Jews see him as a brilliant rabbi. My view is similar to that of the great CS Lewis. “Either this man was, and is, who he said he is; the Son of God: or else a madman, liar or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God.”

 I choose the latter because I believe the bible is not only a collection of historical facts that have been verified by archeology and paleontology; I also believe it to be the inspired revelation of God. A guidebook ,of sorts, for living life to it’s fullest, a refuge when in pain, suffering, and mourning, standards for our conduct, guidelines for knowing right from wrong, principles to help us in a confused society where so often "anything goes."  The plan of God for man and creation is truly awe inspiring.  I refuse to believe I am some meaningless creature evolved here out of some sponge. I can’t. There has to be more. I am more. And I believe by my presence here on earth I am proof of that. He is more than you and I can ever imagine.  

For me, the answer to every question has all been laid out for us by the Christian God. Studying and reading His scriptures has brought me to a new level of enlightenment in His plan for all. It truly is fascinating. In Him I have found my answers. I look forward to the day I go to heaven. You may ask, "What does she know about Heaven, anyway? Has she ever been there? I will answer by saying, "No, but I have a very good Friend who has. He’s been there and came back to tell us about it.
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Yes, really happened....

MY SUMMER SIZZLER! By Joanne  1987

I was a New York City girl

A new bride in Torrington.

I said goodbye to family and friends,

My new life had begun.

I learned to cook, it wasn’t hard

my new husband, he was thrilled.

I thought to myself, “I’m a real chef now,

I think I’ll try the grill!”

Exactly how this baby worked

I really had no clue.

City life teaches a girl many things,    

but not how to Barbeque!

I turned the knob on the big white tank

I knew that gave it gas.

Turned all the burner knobs to high

I had visions of steak and a wineglass!

All I have to do is push the button,

Auto Ignite is what it said.

I pushed and pushed, it clicked and clicked….

my igniter…. it was dead.

Oh what now, oh what do I do?

the scene was turning drastic.

“I know!  I’ll go and get a match!

that will do the trick!”

I searched and searched and found a light

I thought, “What a great cook I am!”

Put the match in the little side hole….

and BAM!

No louder noise had I ever heard

The cover flew up over the house.

Oh no! How do I explain?

all this to my new spouse!

My brows were gone, my lashes too

all I could do was look up and stare.

My husband came running and said…

“What happened to your hair?”

I said, “Look out, it’s going to land!”

He looked up in disbelief.

It missed the house, the windows too..

That my head was still on my shoulders was a big relief!

The grille was broken, my pride was gone

my grilling days were over.

I learned an important lesson that day,

When you light a grille, be sure to open the cover!

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I was walking down Fresh Pond Road one afternoon and I spotted my Grandmother walking up ahead of me.  It suddenly struck me as I watched her walk  how old she was and I started to reflect on what an amazing life she must have led. When I got home I was inspired to write this poem for her that I later set to music on my guitar. She loved it when I played it for her...

 SPECIAL WOMAN

By Joanne  1974

Time goes by and I wonder

      how you managed to be here with me.

Miles and trials that you conquered with pride,

     tears and fears that you kept deep inside.

Grandmother, wise and true,

     someday I hope to be just like you.

Special woman, teach me your ways,

     the lessons you’ve learned through your long struggling days.

Years go by and I wonder

      how you climbed to reach your goals.

Times were hard but you stuck to your dreams,

      whenever they tore, you sewed back the seams.

Grandmother wise and strong,

      I learned of life from how you got along.

Special woman, life cant be done

      Till you’ve waited with our Lord for forever to come.

Life goes by and now you wonder

       how a young mind can truly see

back through years of an ageless lifetime

       and from it learn how to conquer and climb.

Grandmother wisest of minds,

      of values, virtue, love and good times.

Special woman, wonder no more it’s true…..

      All this I have learned and found in you.
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What Would Jesus Do?

 by Joanne

"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth……. "No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other…..Be on your guard against every form of greed….Owe nothing to anyone……Give to him who asks of you…..”


Jesus was radical in his messages to the people of his day. His words are still radical in their message to us regarding financial and stewardship matters! He reminds us of the dangers of “loving” money and lives controlled by wants. He speaks about giving that shows where our hearts truly are found. And, he encourages us to keep our eyes on God rather than the latest fad or fashion.  Faced with choices every day, we constantly choose between the ways of the world and “another way of living.”

…….. ..TOSS IN THE CAN or RECYCLE THE CAN?

……… SECOND HELPING or HELPING THE HUNGRY?


……… COLLECT MORE or SHARE MORE?


……… GO FOR A WALK or SIT AND WATCH TV?


……….BUY NOW or SAVE TO BUY?


It’s vital that when we face the little and big stewardship choices of each day, we listen carefully to that still, small voice that whispers………….

“What would Jesus do?”
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Recognizing Your Gifts

Written by Joanne 2008

Have you ever gotten a gift from someone you love and although you love the person, you don’t love the gift? Everyone loves receiving presents, but let’s face it, some presents are hard to love. The gift selected may make you wonder, what were they thinking?  We expect those who love us to see the real us when selecting thoughtful gifts. But what if the giver perceives us differently? What if the giver loves us enough to challenge our self-image? What if the giver is God?

I’m speaking to you today on behalf of the Stewardship Committee as we continue this year’s theme of time, gifts and talent.  What’s really great is that God chose for me to speak to you about my gifts, today, which is my birthday! How cool is that?

Time, Gifts and Talent. You may be thinking, I don’t have all three! I used to think that way too.  Whether it was artistically, intellectually, musically, or spiritually.  I never thought of myself as talented.  And I say that because as I was growing up, I never really stood out in any one particular area in my life.  Now granted, growing up where I did, in Brooklyn New York, no one stood out!  Everyone just kinda blended. I didn’t feel particular artistic, I can’t even draw stick people. Although I’m self taught and have played the guitar since I was 13, I didn’t play it like others could, so I didn’t consider myself musical either.   I was just a little too short to make the basketball team, so I didn’t feel I was athletic.  I didn’t get the best grades in the class. Being an average student in a very large school system.  And even though I went to Catholic grade school, went to church every Sunday, and considered myself a church groupie because I absolutely loved hanging out and praying in the huge old churches that were so plentiful in my neighborhood, I didn’t serve the church in any way.

 I passed homeless people everyday on the train station on my way to work in Manhattan and all I remember is actually stepping over them as they lie sleeping in my way. So even though I gave my life to Christ when I was 15, I certainly didn’t think I possessed the gift of compassion or mercy.   And I carried that way thinking into my adulthood.  Up until recently, I never really thought of myself as gifted. Some of you can probably relate. You may think you live day to day, doing what you do no better than anyone else does.

 Well, I stand here this morning to testify, positively knowing, that regardless of what we have or haven’t been encouraged to believe about ourselves and our abilities, God has blessed us all with certain gifts and talents that His love encourages us to identify, develop, and utilize for His glory.  In Romans 12:6–8: it says, “We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. “Paul goes on to say, “If a man’s gift is prophesy, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully”

Paul’s language implies that, in one form or another, all of us have been given gifts of our own and to use them. But what are my gifts? Do I recognize and accept the nature and extent of those gifts? Or do I think they should be something else?  And how many do I need? I didn’t know.

 So I took Paul’s writing to mean I had to do it all! And I tried! I took Paul words to the extreme and thought I had to do everything. I put such pressure on myself I started to feel overwhelmed and almost burdened by all the things I felt I was being called to do, My pastor said to me “You can’t be all things, to all people, Joanne” I looked at him like he was nuts. “I can’t’? Isn’t that what I’m supposed be? Don’t I need to be superwoman? Wasn’t I called to be a good Christian?  I need to serve, I need to give, I need to teach, I need to organize.  I had an overwhelming desire to possess every talent.  I had also let the sin of envy take over as I looked at other people and thought, Boy, I wish I could be like so and so. Boy, I wish I could remember scripture like her, and then I will teach. Boy I wish I could play the guitar say, like, Cindy Rines, and then I will play and sing and bring joy to other people. Boy I wish I could speak and organize my thoughts, and then I will be able to spread God’s word. Boy, if only.

But guess what I did? Nothing.  None of it.  I was so overwhelmed by all the gifts and talents I thought I should have that I never recognized the gifts I had! And because of it, I stayed in my room and played guitar.  I closed all the windows and sweated!  I didn’t teach, I didn’t volunteer to serve.  I never realized how wrong it was of me to think I should wait until I was good enough, in order to please God.  It never occurred to me to take a step back, to go through the process of discovering what my true gifts and talents were. To really listen to what Paul was saying. Was I hiding in my self doubt so much that I was overlooking the gifts God truly gave me? Did I think when He handed out the gifts, I got ripped off? That they weren’t good enough? That’s like saying to the giver,” Please Lord, take my gift back to your gift shop and return it for something else I think is better!”

Looking back, I think I missed a big “little” word in Paul’s passage. I missed the … “IF”.  Paul doesn’t say we must all serve, we must all teach, we must all lead, we must all govern. He says IF. If your gift is this, then we are called to do it. If it’s that, then do that.  It doesn’t say that you have to do it all or be good at it all! I don’t know about you, but I say…. Wow! What a relief!

God knew what he was doing when he gave me certain gifts and not others. It took me a long time to realize that, which led me to pray to ask Him to lead me away from myself and lead me more towards Him. God is answering that prayer in steps I’m still taking today, but He started by helping me rule out the things I couldn’t do well. And there are many!  But that is ok. He gave me other gifts!  And instead of feeling bad and envious about the things I couldn’t do, the things I was good at, started to emerge.

 Perhaps there are some things I can do easily that others find difficult. Perhaps there are things I feel passionate about and want to do and share with others. And perhaps the best gift I’ve ever received is knowing that all I have to be is what God made me.

  I once completed a spiritual gifts questionnaire. The results so surprised me that I decided to step out of my comfort zone and become a Sunday School teacher. It was a determining and encouraging factor for me. I have the gift of prophecy. Who knew?

Recognizing our gifts is a huge step in spiritual growth but that is just the beginning! 1 Peter 4:10 says “Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in all it’s various forms.”  Why? “So that in all things praise may be given to God through Jesus Christ to whom belong the glory and power forever.”

 Because God created each of us with specific gifts in mind It’s no surprise we’ll feel more fulfilled in our lives when we’re using those gifts. We’re contributing, doing our part, living up to our potential. And in so doing we’re sharing more than ourselves with those around us—we’re actually sharing God’s grace with them.

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Originally written as a song played on my guitar for my husband, John 1978

I've searched for you everywhere.
In crowded streets, though faces so blank.
In passing cars, maybe even went as far
as looking through lines at the bank.

You're that special man I've never met
but knew I would recognize as mine.
By how you walked, the difference in the way you talked,
how you smiled, even how your eyes would shine.

You see, I've dreamed of you for so long a time
that I created your image in the back of my mind.
Just waiting for you to come to life for me
to prove not all dreams die in the face of reality.

but rather...

Breathe and walk in my direction
and rescued me from the false loves who came before.
All the trials that I endured for your sake
because I was sure you'd be worth it, that and so much more.

And how true it was when I first saw you
I left imagination far behind.
My dreams were brought from inside
and brought me love..uncomplicated and mine.

Now I know all of those dreams were meant to come true
cause they are standing by my side, all here within you.
For I found them all when you came to life for me
and proved that not all dreams die in the face of reality.

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9-2-19

Morning thoughts: There are many choices in life we must make. We all choose a certain way to act, to speak, to respond , to be. Whether it be with our spouses, our families, friends or co-workers or just by ourselves. For me, in my life, I choose those actions knowing with all certainty that the eyes of God sees everything.  Think about that awesomeness. The eyes of God see everything. This truth has guided me, inspired me, charted my daily course and steered my direction. Am I perfect? No. Do I fail miserably? Yes. Terribly.  But one thought sustains me. I know the eyes of God are loving and forgiving. I wrap myself in the warmth of that knowledge and I go on each day.. And with all certainty, I know I am perfect in His eyes.

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