How I See Christmas

How I See Christmas

My childhood eyes saw Christmas as a shiny red bicycle.  Oh my, that was a special bike. 

A few years later, my eyes saw Christmas as a much-wanted new sweater.  I wore that sweater everywhere that winter. 

Some years later, I saw Christmas as a book I longed to read, a new pair of slacks, new shoes. 

Last year, I saw Christmas as a new commission on life.  I survived heart bypass one week before Christmas day, and I was most thankful for just being here. 

How do you see Christmas? 

Is it just another season to get through, or is it a sad time because of missing someone who is now gone?  Is it a time for finding joy, listening for the rustle of wrapping paper and the surprises awaiting to be found?

Is it the extra food, the extra pies, cakes, candies? 

Is it the music tailored for the season? 

I hope you see Christmas in ways that are new and fresh for your heart and mind.  I hope you see joy, experience joy, and hear the “love” expressions.

I hope you find deep satisfaction this year.  Even if it is for the fact that you survived one more year. 

Look for Christmas in all the right places.  See Christmas in all the right places.

This is my

morning reflection.

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P Michael Biggs

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The Great Hunger for Appreciation

The Great Hunger for Appreciation

This topic is near and dear to my heart, for it lies at the center of the reason I write.  We live in an age when the hunger for recognition, for validation and for appreciation is running rampant.  Mankind simply wants to be recognized. 

Mother Teresa once said this: 

“There is more hunger for love

and appreciation in this world

than for bread.

~Mother Teresa

I ate breakfast at a local café this morning.  My waitress was a pleasant lady of thirty-five.  She performs the same duties day in and day out for months and years on end. 

She brought my coffee.  I thanked her.

She brought my eggs.  I thanked her.

She refilled my coffee.  I thanked her.

She brought my check. I thanked her.

She came to my table no less than six times, and each time I thanked her.

And with each ‘thank you’, I could swear she stood a bit taller.  I know she smiled broader, and I didn’t notice a broader smile with any of her other customers.  I gave her what she needed most – recognition and appreciation.

Oprah Winfrey said something in her last show, after 25-years, and I never get far from it. 

"I've talked to nearly 30,000 people

on this show, and all 30,000 had

one thing in common;

they all wanted validation.

They wanted to know,

do you hear me?

Do you see me?

Does what I say

mean anything to you?"

 What was it Mother Teresa said? 

“… more hunger for love and appreciation …”

This is my morning reflection.

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The Voice Heard in Silence

The Voice Heard in Silence

Prayers are said; some deeply felt, others as though rote response is all we sense.

And when we pray, what then?  Is formality in order, as if we are praying and the Queen of England is listening to our “Thee’s and Thou’s?”

I hope not.  I’ll confess – I pray.  The amount

per day and the style and body position in which I pray shall remain private.  I’m not here as some specimen on prayer for you to emulate.  I just want to muse for a bit.

I love what Mary Oliver said in her poem “Praying”.

“Just patch a few words together

and don’t make them elaborate”.

Oh my.  That resonates with my soul.  I am not the most eloquent of pray-givers.  I love her words “just patch a few words together.”  That’s more my style.  And you know what?  God gets my prayers in that style.  He gets me and my minds desire and my heart’s longing. 

Mary continues:

“… this isn’t a contest

but a doorway into thanks,

Hmmm … a ‘doorway into thanks’.  How about that!  Man do I have a bushel basket full of circumstances for which to be thankful. 

And the wrap-up:

and a silence in which

another voice may speak.”

To think that God himself wants to speak to me.  I’m nobody in the grand scheme of things.  I’m 68, I have surgery scars on my body, I move slower than ever, and to think God may want to speak to me during my prayers?

I think I shall pray now.  I just may hear the one voice that speaks life and sense into my troubled world.

I’m going to sit here in my chair with my feet up.  Join me if you wish.  Just be still … with me.

This is my morning reflection.

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