HOSANNA PEOPLE

I browsed through a holiday craft bazaar and spied several small, stuffed dolls hanging on a Christmas tree. They were plain little peasant ladies in burlap dresses and calico bandanas. Each carried a paper banner above her head that read, Rejoice or Peace or Hallelujah. They were called Hosanna People and their message was simple, yet bold. They captured my attention and spoke to my spirit.

Isn't that what we're called to be --Hosanna People? When I recognize who God is, then surely I must live under a banner of praise and joy. Too often the banners I carry reflect self-righteousness or unloving attitudes rather than devotion.

King David was a true Hosanna person. Psalms 146 through 150 are called the Hallelujah Psalms because each begins and ends with Hallelujah, which means Praise the Lord. What a fitting climax to the most meaningful songbook ever written.

Oh, that I could go through my complicated life as a simple, smiling peasant living under a banner of praise!

Friends, join me and let's celebrate Christmas as true Hosanna People.

TEACH SOMEONE

"One of life's greatest assets at any age is a good teacher."
 Ann Zwemer in But Wait!...There's More (2018 WestBow Press)

Who taught you to...

• Tie your shoes or brush your teeth
• Write in cursive
• Read
• Clean a kitchen
• Cook
• Sew
• Do wood-working
• drive a car

? ? ? ? ?

I think about important people in my life when I make spaghetti sauce, set a lovely table, knit something, use word-processing on the computer, cook using certain recipes, edit my website, etc.

Whom do I think about? The friends and teachers who shared their expertise with me. Think about it:

If you teach someone something, you're in their head forever! 

Scary.

It's usually positive, but not always:

• My 7th grade Home Economics teacher (a witchy old woman!) comes to mind when I thread my sewing machine or set a dinner table, making sure the fork is on the left.

• My mother's voice runs through my head if I forget to wipe off the kitchen counters or use a safety pin to hold up a torn hem.

Thankfully, it is mostly positive:

• I remember the lovely friend (now 94) who shared her world-famous spaghetti sauce recipe with me and taught me how to make Banket, a Dutch pastry.
• I hear my sister's voice from when she taught me how to knit during my holiday break from college
• I'll never forget my department head at school who first introduced me to computers and all their mysteries. (Remember the old Apple II with floppy disks?)
• More recently, I'm learning from my daughter who helps me update my website. (Visit my Website)

Think about it: Teach someone something and you've left a legacy.

This holiday season, consider sharing an instructional event with loved ones instead of a physical gift. It might not be possible, but it's something to consider. You'll have left a legacy.

Teach someone and you're in their head forever!

😏

 (Note to a special friend: I think of you when I'm writing and I misuse the "&" or "etc." or forget to place a comma in a sentence with two clauses! You're in my head, P.G.!!!!)

 

 

PERFECTION IS OVER-RATED

 In honor of the upcoming holiday season, I am re-running a post from last year's Thanksgiving event with my family. Perhaps it will encourage you to lighten up on yourself when celebrations don't go as planned!


Do you secretly try to re-enact a Better Homes & Gardens Christmas? You know, one with all the beautiful decorations, delicious food, elegant parties, and smiling families gathered around a shimmering tree.

It's easy to succumb to the pressure of making the holidays perfect, when often they're anything but.

Pictured here is the Dutch pastry, Banket (bahn-ket). It consists of a delicious buttery crust wrapped around an almond-paste filling. I salivate just thinking about it. Next to my husband, it's my favorite thing about the Dutch.

I finally learned how to make Banket. It is labor-intensive--two days of work, resulting in a kitchen dusted in flour and a sink full of baking dishes. Worth all the effort.

My family loves it, so I make it every year to take to our Thanksgiving celebration. This year I baked early and gently wrapped nine pastry rolls in aluminum foil and put them in the freezer with ominous "keep out" signs on them.

Travel day came. I placed the Banket rolls in a cushioned carrying bag and admonished my husband to carefully place it on top of the suitcases. We handled them like newborn babes.

Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving was the big reveal. Children and grandchildren gathered around the table as I proudly pulled out three of the rolls. The family oohed and ahhed, much to my prideful delight. I cut pieces for everyone and glowed, watching them enjoy this time-honored treat from their Dutch ancestry.

Suddenly, I jumped up from my chair and shouted, "I just sat on the Banket!" I had placed the carrying case on my chair and inadvertently sat on them. Had been sitting on them for about five minutes!

Oh, the hoots and hollers and laughter. The kids went crazy and the grandkids thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen from Grandma. One videotaped the whole disaster of me alternately crying and laughing.

The Banket? Flat as a pancake. So pitifully thin. All that hard work to make them light and fluffy. All that effort to transport them from Arizona to California. All wasted.

So much for a perfect Better Homes & Gardens Christmas. I'm guessing all my readers have similar instances of disastrous attempts at perfection. (I'd love to hear some of them in the Comments section.)

Perfection vs. Reality.

Think about the first Christmas. Mary and Joseph probably wanted to welcome their baby, God's own Son, in a perfect setting surrounded by loving family. It was not to be. Jesus was born in a lowly stable, far from home and surrounded by animals. God's plan for perfection differed from mankind's.

When--not if--things go awry this holiday, try to see God's working and remember to keep your priorities in line with the Messiah coming to save the world.

For me, my Banket fiasco was a reminder to tone down the pride and the desire for perfection.

By the way, the kids said from now on, it will be called, "Butt-ket." Our Dutch ancestors are rolling over in their graves. Sigh.

GOODNESS ENGAGEMENT SPECIALIST

Yes, there is such a person as a Goodness Engagement Specialist!

The large corporation my husband retired from matches donations to approved charitable causes. In some instances, they also "gift" for hours served volunteering.

Many large businesses will match your philanthropic donations.

What a great way to support organizations that serve our communities. Look into your employer's policies and see if any of these benefits apply. It magnifies your gifts to causes you believe in.

The helpful man who recently led us through the on-line process of donating gave clear directions. What struck me, however, was the title in his email signature: "Goodness Engagement Specialist." 

Wow, I thought. What a great title! Goodness Engagement Specialist. Shouldn't we ALL strive to be one of those? I surely need to be one of those.

We're not getting much goodness from people in the public eye, so how can we search for it and spread it in everyday life?

Here are some "goodnesses" I've noticed recently:

• A local school district employs a Wellness Director to support staff, parents, and students in living healthier, more productive lives. They just held a Wellness Fair that gave free flu shots, measured BMI, promoted healthy lifestyles and products, etc. Great insight from a large district.
• I just learned from a Jewish friend that all Jewish children are instructed to perform a mitzvah, a good deed, on a regular basis.
• Another friend makes it her goal every day to make at least two people happy.
• Pay it Forward is a terrific practice that has caught fire in recent years.
• How about if we decide to "share" only positive, uplifting social media posts?
• Many years ago, my teenage daughter scolded me for being curt to a cashier at a store:

"Mom," she said. "Maybe her puppy died!"

(I think of that wise admonition frequently when I'm tempted to snap at lousy customer service. Thank you, sweet daughter.)

What it comes down to is this:  We must respect all others as worthwhile human beings, made in the image of God the Creator and loved by Him.

Challenge: Let's work to become Goodness Engagement Specialists. 

In the process, maybe we can turn our communities and country around.

😍 😍 😍

TO ALL PARENTS:

Never underestimate the importance of what you do for your children.

In the midst of parenting, it's easy to think kids don't appreciate your efforts to teach, encourage, support, build self-esteem, create memories, etc.

When I was in 5th grade, our class planned a special program. We invited our mothers to come watch. I don't remember what it was, just that it was important.

I invited my mom, of course, but knew she couldn't come. School was a mile and a-half from home and my mother had no car. Even if she did, she didn't know how to drive. So, I accepted that she wouldn't be there.

The big day came and we were about to begin the festivities. In through the door walked my mom! I gasped and ran to give her a big hug.

To this day I remember how she looked. She wore a gray, nubby-weave car-coat. Her hair was held back on the sides by clips, leaving a cluster of curls in the back. She wore make-up and high heels--heels because that's how women dressed for important events in those days. I smiled and thought she was the most beautiful mom in the room. It was a good day.

Later I learned she had walked the distance over gravely, uneven country roads in heels! (These were the days before women actively exercised or wore sensible sport shoes.) Years later, it dawned on me how her feet must have hurt from the long walk.

The fact I remember this event with warmth so many years later tells me how impressionable children are.

Message to parents:  keep making those efforts--big and small--to show your children:

"What's important to YOU is important to me!"

 

My Mom & Dad - Bill & Marge Faris

 

 

 

(Postscript: Mom was well into her 40s when she learned how to drive--and swim! Gutsy woman.)