Ornaments I Love, Part 2 - The Pageant Bears

Long-time residents of Portage la Prairie remember the energetic Christmas banquets put on by Portage (now Prairie) Alliance Church through the 1990’s and into the 2000’s. At its peak, our banquet ran for eight nights over two weekends, just to accommodate all the guests who lined up outside our doors early on an October Saturday to purchase tickets. Contrary to popular assumption, the event was never a fundraiser, but a labour of love by dozens of volunteers over hundreds of hours and months of rehearsals. The banquets became known for magnificent music and drama, marvelous meals, and delightful decorating throughout the building. For many guests, the ambience of Christmas sights, smells, and sounds provided their kickoff of the season.

Although usually involved on some level, I’d never had to lead the whole production. Until 2003. Previous leadership had moved away, and it fell on my shoulders to steer the team in gifting our community with another creative Christmas experience. We chose a 1950’s theme called Christmas at Velma’s Diner.  It turned out to be our biggest undertaking and probably the most fun one yet.

I was scared stupid.

One of the smartest things we did, though, was recruit prayer partners. We asked members of our congregation to “adopt” one person who would be serving all the nights of the banquet—musicians, actors, technicians, etc. They agreed to pray for that person every day for a month leading up to and throughout the banquet nights, and find ways to encourage them. Each “adoptee” knew they had someone to call if they needed prayer for their health or anything else.

I hit the jackpot when my friend Susan Beauchamp adopted me as her prayer partner. I knew she would faithfully talk to God about me. What I didn’t know was:

a) how challenging the event would become;

b) that during that busy season, my husband would take a fall on the ice while working hundreds of miles from home and fracture a bone, putting him off work for a month and increasing the stress to a whole new level; or

c) that Susan would bring me a gift each week leading up to the banquets. By the end of the stint, I had collected a set of four adorable “Christmas Pageant Bears.” How appropriate!

Photo courtesy of G.Loewen Photography

Lined up together, the little bears were reminiscent of children presenting the Christmas story on stage. Each day when I saw them, they reminded me someone was praying specifically for me and for each of my teammates. 

Eventually, PAC’s Christmas banquets ran their course and we moved on to other ways of blessing our community. But I still delight in unwrapping my pageant bears every December and displaying them—a wonderful reminder of the power of prayer, of God’s sustaining grace through a stressful time, and of the loving care of a sweet friend.

Confessions of a Techno Twit

I hate learning new technical stuff. Unfortunately, an unwillingness to learn new technical stuff these days will make you obsolete faster than your palm pilot can drop into your Jolt cola.

So it was good news for me when I signed up for the tech team at my church, operating the computer program that projects lyrics, scriptures, and whatever else the congregation needs to see onto the front screen. The software had not changed in ten years. Back then, I worked on staff at the church and used it weekly, setting up the Sunday schedules and even training others how to use it. A brief refresher and I was good to go.

But, as my dad used to say, “I learn to say yam and they change it to yelly.”

It was inevitable that just as I was getting comfortable, the church would purchase new software, requiring the team to learn not only a different program but one that operated on a Mac computer when all I’ve ever used is Windows.

The lovely Demi Moore as G.I. Jane

Oh, and did I mention? Not only am I the only female on this team, I am the oldest person on this team. I felt like a senior version of G.I. Jane going off to boot camp. (Well, except maybe for the shaved head, the one-handed push-ups, and the whole getting-the-snot-beat-out-of-me thing.)

“Soldier on,” I pep-talked myself. “What’s the worst that can happen? You mess up so bad that the huddled masses who intended to get right with God that Sunday change their minds, never to return? Don’t overestimate your own importance.”

The real fears had more to do with my prideful heart. Would I look like an idiot when I couldn’t catch on as fast as the 12-year-old training beside me? Break down crying in frustration? Make so many blunders they’d invite me to leave the team? 

All distinct possibilities. None life-threatening.

I attended the training session and found Jed Neudorf a great teacher. I didn’t cry, but I did return home with my head swimming. Now to work through the online tutorial videos. Soon I will be tested in an actual service. I’ll be as nervous as a nudist at the porcupine ball, but it will be worth it…eventually.

Here’s what I love most about serving in this capacity. Coming early to practice while the music team rehearses means I experience all the worship songs at least three times instead of only once, like the rest of the crowd. I learn the songs better and they stick in my head throughout the week. And that’s a good thing.

Praising God is always a good thing.

This week is Palm Sunday, the day Jesus rode triumphantly into Jerusalem while the people sang his praises, waving palm branches (symbols of victory, triumph, peace, and eternal life) and tossing their own coats in his path. “Hosanna!” they cried, which means “I beg you to save!” or “please deliver us!”

So, as Jesus rode the donkey into Jerusalem, the crowds were perfectly right to shout “Hosanna!” Theirs was a cry for salvation and a recognition that Jesus is able to save.

He deserves the same adoration from us. If you’re not already planning to attend Palm Sunday, Good Friday, or Easter services at another church, please join me at mine—Portage Alliance Church at 11:00 a.m. I can promise joyous music, a warm atmosphere, and an inspiring message.

And if the technology should fail… that whimpering sound you hear might just be me.

Recipes for a Happier World

Last week I wrote about the May long weekend, so I thought it only fair to tell you how I spent mine. See it as a private diary, if you like, but I take no responsibility if you’re scandalized beyond recovery by my wild and wicked exploits.

Friday: Date Night   

Hubby and I take turns planning our date nights, although it generally involves supper out. Friday night was his turn. After a yummy meal at Tornado’s, he took me to the river for a quiet evening around a campfire. He gave me the option of splitting wood or starting the fire with some kindling, but I wasn’t falling for that. Silly man obviously underestimates my laziness and overestimates my sense of adventure. 

“I think I’ll just sit here and watch you work,” I said, snuggling into my lawn chair. Watching a one-armed guy split wood is more entertaining than a movie, and a roaring, toasty fire soon blazed. We didn’t talk much, just stared into the flames and relished the silence. Birds chirped. The occasional wild turkey gobbled in the distance. Not a man-made sound to be heard, unless you count the crackling of the fire. Just us, enjoying creation. Ahhh. If everyone got to do this on a regular basis, we’d have a happier world.

Saturday: Yard Work

I can think of one or two activities I find more insufferable than yard work. Having a root canal comes to mind, although I’ve never actually required a root canal so I can’t say for sure. But, like housework, yard work must be done. Unlike housework, I don’t actually know how to do yard work. I just want to magically have a beautiful yard, is that too much to ask? Hubby says I should have married someone who either loves gardening or who’s rich enough to hire a gardener. In other words, “kwitcher belly-achin’ and grab a rake.” 

But Saturday was a lovely day. So I hoed the garden in preparation for planting, sprayed some weeds with an organic, homemade weed killer recipe I found on Facebook, and pruned two rose bushes—also with instructions garnered online. Knowing my non-green thumbs, I predict the weeds will survive and the roses won’t.

The rewarding part of my yard day was hosing down the outside of the house. Watching winter’s grime run down the walls to rejoin the dust of the earth made me feel like I actually accomplished something. If everyone got do hose down a dusty house on a regular basis, we’d have a happier world.

Sunday: Church

Part Four of a series called “A New Life by Summer” and this week’s topic was about better rest. Ever wonder why you come home from vacation or a day of recreational pursuits exhausted instead of refreshed? It was helpful to hear why this happens and how Sabbath rest is a gift from our creator, not a heavy yoke in a long list of rules and regulations. If we could just get a handle on this one good gift, everything else would fall into place and we’d have a much happier world. You can hear the full, inspiring message HERE.

Monday: Writing

When you write a weekly column for your local paper and a quarterly column for a writer’s magazine, and you want to enter a couple of short story contests and polish up your dusty ol’ novel for yet another contest, and the Chicken Soup for the Soul folks are enlisting submissions for a “Christmas in Canada” collection, and there’s a local website/magazine starting up, asking for contributors… well, there’s no end of possibilities for an introvert and her laptop on a drizmal holiday Monday. Like a pig in mud. If everyone got to spend a full day now and then doing what makes their heart come alive, we’d have a happier world.

(PS - If you have a story to submit for the “Christmas in Canada” book, go to www.chickensoup.com click on “submit your story” and follow the instructions.)

A Thrill of Hope in a Hurting World

Raise your hand if you can name the first song ever sent over the air via radio waves.

Here’s a hint: it happened Christmas Eve 1906. Reginald Fessenden picked up his violin and played its melody after reading the Christmas story from the gospel of Luke. Radio operators aboard ships must have been shocked, for neither the human voice nor music had ever been transmitted this way.

Need another clue? The song’s lyrics were originally written in 1847 by a French poet named Placide Cappeau (who, incidentally, had his right hand amputated following a shooting accident at the age of eight).  

Adolphe Charles Adams composed the melody. To Adams, a man of Jewish descent, the poem represented a day he didn’t celebrate and a man he did not view as the son of God. But he wrote the music anyway, at his friend’s request, and at first the song was embraced by the Catholic church. But then the original poet, Cappeau, left the church to join the Socialist movement and the church learned the composer was a Jew. They banned the song, declaring it unfit.

About ten years later, American abolitionist John Sullivan Dwight was so moved by the words of the third verse, he translated the entire song into English and published it in his magazine. If you know your Civil War history, you can see why it quickly caught on in the northern United States during that time:

“Truly He taught us to love one another,

His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.”

And if you hadn’t already guessed, now you know. O Holy Night, originally called Cantique de Noel, has remained one of the most loved and most recorded Christmas carols.

Did you see the Lincoln movie that came out last year or this year’s Twelve Years a Slave?  Abraham Lincoln remains a hero to many for taking the lead in abolishing slavery in America, but I can’t help thinking Lincoln would weep if he knew it has not been abolished at all. Oppression has not ceased. According to numerous reports, there are more people in slavery today than at any other time in history. Human trafficking runs rampant. 

This is probably not what you wanted to read in my Christmas column. The good news is, we can make a difference and we don’t have to fight this battle alone. Numerous organizations work hard to expose and abolish human trafficking. By buying fair trade, learning more about modern slavery, spreading the word, and joining a movement such as Free the Slaves, International Justice Mission, or ServantsAnonymous (among others), you as an individual can help.

Isaiah 58:6 says this: “I’ll tell you what it really means to worship the Lord. Remove the chains of prisoners who are chained unjustly. Free those who are abused!”

DefendDignity leads a campaign to end modern day sex slavery and defend the dignity of every woman right here in Canada. I’m happy to say my church and its denomination (the Christian and Missionary Alliance) are partners of Defend Dignity. 

And finally, an invitation. I hope you attend your church’s Christmas services. But if you do not have a church home, please join me and my family at mine, PortageAlliance Church, on Christmas Eve at 7:00 pm. But come early – the place packs out! Spend an hour singing carols by candlelight. You may return home with renewed perspective on the hope that is ours because of Christmas. May it truly be, for you, a Holy Night.