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JOY – 3rd Advent Week of our Journey Toward Christmas
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” … the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Luke 2:10-11
As a child, I thought joy came from receiving “things.” The only true and lasting joy comes from within. Outer things are just “the frosting on the cake” to the well-being you feel inside. You do not need to look to anyone else to give you joy. God gives joy, continuously and you feel it as you give it away. Joy is our spiritual heritage; it is a free gift from God.
There is always an infinite supply of Divine joy. This Christmas, you CAN HAVE the great joy. Ask God for joy, then close your eyes and commune with the joy given directly to you from God. The joy does not depend on outer events, it depends on inner events. Joy cannot be manufactured outside of us. Joy and its limitless reservoir is from God.
CHRISTMAS EVE 1881
Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was 15 years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn’t been a enough money to buy me the rifle I had wanted so bad that year at Christmas.
We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn’t in much of a mood to read Scriptures.
But Pa didn’t get to the Bible, instead he bundled up and went outside.
I couldn’t figure it out because we had already done all the chores. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. “Come on, Matt,” he said. “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.”
I was really upset then. Not only wasn’t I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one’s feet when he told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on, then got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn’t know what.
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There, in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn’t going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell.
We never hitched up the big sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn’t happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. “I think we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said. “Here, help me.
The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on. When we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood … the wood I had spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then sawing into blocks and splitting during the fall. What was he doing?
Finally, I said something. “Pa,” I asked, “what are you doing?”
“You been by the widow Jensen’s lately?” He asked. The widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I’d been by, but so what?
“Yeah,” I said, “why?”
“I rode by just today,” Pa said. “Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They’re out of wood, Matt.” That was all he said, then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood.
I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smokehouse and Pa took down the big ham and a side of bacon. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and the smaller sack of something in his left hand.
“What’s in the little sack?” I asked.
“Shoes. They’re out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the little children some candy too. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little candy.”
We rode the two miles to widow Jensen’s, pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn’t have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn’t have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us. It shouldn’t have been our concern.
We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible. Then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door open a crack and a timid voice said, “Who is it?”
“Lucas Miles, ma’am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?” Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. “We brought you a few things, ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table.
Then, Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children … sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn’t come out.
“We brought a load of wood too, ma’am,” Pa said. Then he turned to me and said, “Matt, go bring enough in to last for a while. Let’s get that fire up to size and heat this place up.”
I wasn’t the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and, much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind, I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak.
My heart swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I had never known before. I had given at Christmas, many times before, but never when it made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people. Soon I had the fire blazing and everyone’s spirits soared.
The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. “God bless you,” she said, “I know the Lord Himself has sent you. The children and I have been praying that He would send one of his Angels to spare us.”
In spite of myself, the lump return to my throat and tears welled up in my eyes again. I never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after widow Jensen mentioned it, I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.
Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes. Tears were running down widow Jensen’s face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn’t want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. At the door Pa turned to the widow Jensen and said, “The Mrs. wanted to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has turkey for too many meals. We’ll be by to get you about eleven. It’ll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn’t been little for quite a spell.” I was the youngest. My two older brothers and two older sisters were all married and had moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said, “Thank you, Brother Miles. I don’t have to say, “May the Lord bless you,” I know for certain that God will.”
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn’t even notice the cold. We had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I want you to know something. Your Ma and me had been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t have quite enough. Then yesterday, a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your Ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. So, son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand.”
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Just then, the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on widow Jensen’s face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensen’s, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back the same joy I felt right in their home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night. He had given me the best Christmas of my life.
Personal note: have you ever heard anyone say: “I hate Christmas?” If anyone dislikes the holidays, they are looking at them from the wrong end. The joy of Christmas is not found in receiving, BUT IN GIVING, especially to those in need.
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INSTRUCTIONS FOR LIGHTING THE ADVENT CANDLE:
Choose a family member or yourself to first light the first candle for Hope/Faith (purple candle), the second candle for Peace (purple candle), and the third candle for Joy (pink Candle) from the Christ Candle (white candle).
SAY:
“We light this first candle of advent representing Hope/Faith, the second candle for peace, and now the third candle for joy. Let us not confuse happiness with joy. Happiness is circumstantial and temporary. Joy is permanent and it is not of this world. Joy is a supernatural delight and deep satisfaction in who God is. Jesus brought joy into my world that needed healing. And now he has come into my world with joyful promise. Joy has come into my life.”
PRAYER:
I decree with undoubting faith and acceptance:
On this Sunday, I accept God’s joy and I express God’s joy by giving.
I ask for and give first in joy this Christmas season in celebration of the birth of Jesus.
In Jesus Christ’s name … Amen
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POSITIVE DAILY AFFIRMATION:
I accept my joy from God.
POSITIVE DAILY QUOTE:
“I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”
John 15:11
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