Wednesday, December 13, 2017

What Is Your Drum

What Is Your Drum?

The little drummer boy offered the only gift he could he played his drum for the Christ child. 

I see this poetic act as a metaphor.  And so,
my question is this what is your drum?

Mine is easy.  I write and speak words of hope, encouragement and inspiration.  And sometimes I sing.  Oh, and I too play the drums.  I do it as unto God himself, in the name of Jesus.

I know a lady, Alene, 100 miles south of here who makes the best pies in the world.  And she does it from a heart of love.  Those pies are her drum.

My friend, Carla, sews and does beautiful work.  Her seamstress skills become her drum as unto the Lord.

My mentor, Pastor Jim, has a prayer ministry and has taught seminars all over the US and other parts of the world.  Besides being an insightful minister of the gospel, he offers his prayer ministry as his drum.  What a gift.

And whats your drum?  What can you offer as unto the Lord in service to mankind? 

I know some wealthy people who give out of the generosity of their hearts and bank accounts.  Their drumming through giving is doing great good in this world. 

Maybe we dont have much in the way of gold, frankincense, or myrrh to offer, but we can offer our hearts of gratitude.  We can offer our seemingly meager or meaningless gifts.  You would be amazed at what God can do with a gift offered willingly.

Hope Encouragement Inspiration

Thursday, December 7, 2017

Insight from Wise Men

Insight from Wise Men

See the King?  He is worried.  Worried is probably not strong enough.  He feels threatened.  His kingdom is threatened, his reign is threatened.  His place in history is threatened. 

So, he called a council meeting.  He gathered all the chiefs of priest, all the writers and readers of the ancient scrolls, and he spelled out the agenda.  He was going to get to the bottom of this. 

It has come to my attention that a new king is coming, or is due to come any time now.  How come this has not been brought to my attention before now?

The council hemmed and hawed, they shuffled their parchment papers, they adjusted their robes, and they looked down, or up anywhere but at the King. 

Finally, one brave chief priest spoke up.  In Bethlehem Sire.  He is to be born in Bethlehem of Judea.  I was just reading these words the other day.

And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah, for from you shall come a ruler who will govern ...

And he stopped reading.  Silence settled over the round table discussion. 

A lesser scribe spoke up.  Um, Sire.  Just how did this news come to your attention?

The King glared, for he was in an angry mood.  I heard a rumor he replied cryptically.  And it is from reliable sources, if you must know.

Well, this meeting was getting him nowhere, so he adjourned the group.

Once the chamber has cleared, the King summoned his private secretary.  Get me those wise men who started this rumor, and make it quick.  And keep this quiet.  I don’t want any more rumors floating around till I get to the bottom of this.”

And so, they came. 

“Gentlemen, tell me, kindly tell me, just what led you to tell such a tale of this new king that is coming.  I am the king.  I rule.”

The regal trio looked at one another, and then
one spoke.  Good King, we saw a new star in the heavens just recently and we immediately began making preparations to follow it, for you see, we are star gazers.  We study and know of such things.  This star, this beacon of light was so different from other stars that we knew it had great significance.

Silence! shouted the king.  Ive heard enough.

And then he softened his tone considerably. 

Gentlemen, if you please, be seated, have some wine and fig cakes.  Please, eat all you want.  Lets talk.

And the men sat, and the king continued.

I would like you to go and search diligently for this child, this new King.  And when you have found him, please bring me word, for I too want to come and worship him and bow before him.  Thank you, gentlemen.  That will be all.

And off they went.  They followed the star, for it still shown in the night skies.  And it led them to the baby Jesus, the new-born King the Savior of the world.

And after they presented their gifts and bedded down for the night, they each had a dream, a troubling dream.  At breakfast the next morning, Melchior, from Persia was the first one to speak.  My friends.  I had a troubling dream in the night.

The other two stopped eating and sat up. 

Balthasar from Arabia and Gaspar of India both exclaimed at almost the same instant.  “So did I.  So did I.”

And as they shared, they realized the importance of their dreams and decided then and there to go their separate ways back to their own home lands. They were ignoring King Herod’s request, but honored the dream they all shared.

The heart of this story? The wise kings followed the Star. They knew there was significance there and they followed it to the Christ-child. And they were in touch with their mystical side to know and honor the dreams that troubled their spirits the night before. And so, they obeyed the vision they each had had in a dream.

The Star (Jesus the Christ) still leads today. God’s spirit still stirs and speaks today. Are we wise enough to notice? And will we honor the nudges we sense? Will we be obedient to what the spirit is saying to us today?

What a grand Christmas pledge that would be … may we follow and be obedient to the still small voice of God.

P Michael Biggs
Internet Church Blog Site
Hope Encouragement Inspiration

Thursday, November 30, 2017

The Simplest of Gifts

The Simplest of Gifts

Let’s play Let’s Pretend – after all, we are headed toward Christmas, and what better time than now to pretend, no matter our ages.

You go and grab the coffee or warm egg nog and I’ll tell you a story. 

We’re going back in time – way back.  Feel the shiver in your bones?  Feel the wind blowing cold and icy chills up your spine?  It’s cold.  Colder than cold.  And that is how our story begins.

See that house over there, the brown one with the broken shutter?  Listen.

And as we listen, we hear …

“Joshua.  It’s time to get up.”

The little bundle named Joshua didn’t budge. 

“Joshua.  I said get up.  You have got to get out of this house and bring us some money.”

Still no movement.

And with a swift whack on the back side, Joshua felt the broom land where it was intended.  And he stirred … and yawned.

“Well, well, Mr. Joshua.  So, you finally decided to rise from the dead, did you?”

He groaned, and yawned again.

“Now get up and get moving.  The day is moving on without you.”

“What’s for breakfast” Joshua asked.

“Breakfast?  Are you crazy?  What’s for breakfast, he says.”

The mother paused, laughed a sarcastic snicker and replied, “The same thing you had yesterday and the day before that.  “Now you git before I really take this broom to you, and I don’t mean the soft end.  You hear me.”

And so, Josh began to move.  He didn’t have to get dressed, for he was already dresses, such as it was, for he slept in his clothes.  He and his Mom lived on what you might call the poor side of their village.

As he was getting ready to leave, his Mom called out, “Don’t forget that thing you hang around your neck, and go make some money.  We need to eat tonight.”

And out the door he went.

He went from door to door trying to beg or plead for a handout, and none were offered.  He used “that thing” his mother referred to, and no one seemed to appreciate what he could do with it. 

Time passed, the hours drifted by.  It was a cold winter’s day and he felt the chill in every bone in his body. 

Along about nine at night, if there was such a thing as clocks in those days, he spotted a group of men shuffling along, headed down a narrow path toward a barn.  They were a jovial lot, laughing, and in a good mood and so he thought he would follow them for sport.

They approached the barn, went in … he stayed outside.  After all, he was an intruder. 

He turned to leave, and for the first time noticed a bright light overhead, and it seemed to settle right over the barn where that motley tangle of men had just entered. 

Just as he made a move back to the barn, he was brushed off the trail by an abrupt man leading a camel.  What followed was a whole parade of people and three regal looking men dressed in finery.  What was this all about, he wondered.

The kingly-looking men entered the barn, their attendants cared for their animals, and he stood outside looking on.

From somewhere deep inside he found his courage and entered the barn.  His eyes first landed on the wise me, whose backs were to him.  They were just beginning to stand and he could see they were laying gifts – expensive-looking gifts, on the floor.  And as they moved further away, he saw a man and a woman, and then he heard the soft cooing of a baby.  Why, the baby was lying in a feed trough.  And the kings had given these gifts to the parents of this baby.

And here he stood, dressed in his everyday rags, with no money, no finery … nothing.  Was he supposed to bow as the king-types had done?  Was he supposed to go and buy a gift, without money even, for this family?

Call it inspiration.  Call it impulse.  Call it
whatever you will, young Joshua somehow knew he was witness to a holy moment in time.  And in his heart, he knew the only gift he could offer, was from “that thing” that hung around his neck.  And so, he swung it into place.

And he played his drum … softly, simply.  
Pa-rum-pu-pum-pum.  He paused, and the lady, the mother, smiled and nodded as if to say … “play some more son.”

And he did.  He played.  The kingly men clapped, and smiled, the shepherds looked in the windows and the open door, and the baby quieted and listened, and waved his tiny fist in the air as if directing and saying “more, more.”

His gift … a simple drum solo.  It was all he could offer.  It was enough.

~ ~ ~

This story, as you have figured out, is a play on the song Little Drummer  Boy.  It is my own creation and a reminder for all of us that our gifts given to the Christ of Christmas matter, regardless of their size, their cost, or their worth.  When given from the heart, our gifts are acceptable.

One of my gifts is writing, and so I give it.  Others make beautiful music, or delicious pies, and some are able to give large sums of money to help the needy.  Some build things or make clothes.  Regardless of the ‘way’ you choose to give this Christmas, the important ingredient is that we give from a heart of love, with a kind spirit, and we give willingly of what we have.  That is, perhaps, giving as unto God himself. 

Merry Christmas.

Hope Encouragement Inspiration