Ritz tips

Tea at the Ritz is a marvelous experience. I was given my small birthday cake in a huge carry home box, large enough for a big rabbit or average cat. The waiter kindly added several more exquisite cakes because I said it seemed a shame to waste such a large box on just one.  
After carefully carrying the unwieldy box across London, I entered the Houses of Parliament to listen to the King's speech debate. I placed my splendid box in the grey security tray whereupon the security lady turned it on its side and squashed it down so it would fit through the scanner. My horrified reaction echoed round Parliament square. Not since King Alfred had anyone lamented so loudly over their cakes.

It's sad when something precious is ruined by carelessness. I think in life it happens more often than it should. Christmas is the time when God sent his son to deal with that exact problem. We are precious, but I dare say most of us have encountered things that have tipped us and squashed us and challenged our security. I believe Jesus came to restore us to our original exquisite self, to put us upright, to rejuvenate us and to make us secure. Happy Christmas.

 Unbelievably this orange and cranberry item with the warming fruity fragrance, is toilet roll! You will be glad to know it has less plastic packaging. We don't know what it has less plastic packaging than, but still, it's  good to be reassured. The first Christmas was a very earthy affair, which involved baby poo and animal poo. God becoming a man wasn't dressed up with an orange and cranberry fragrance, it was God getting to the bottom of our problem in the most effective way possible.  There are some things in our lives that need dealing with. They aren't pretty and they aren't sweet and left unattended they are going to stink. Christmas is about God coming to clean up the mess that we humans had got ourselves into. Once we let him do that, our lives are enriched with warmth and fruit and fragrance. Happy Christmas.

Pecan Plaits and Christmas.

Last week I was feeling slightly sorry for myself so I bought a pecan plait pastry as a temporary fix. I loaded my other shopping into the car boot and decided to eat the plait straight away. I threw it across the open hatchback and the bag landed neatly on the front seat. Closing the boot and licking my lips in anticipation I climbed into the driver's seat and reached over for the bag. To my astonishment, the pecan plait had completely disappeared. I was both disappointed and baffled.
I felt certain the confectionery had been in the bag when I threw it but concluded I must have somehow dropped it into the boot in my haste. I got out of the car and walked round to open the boot again. That's when I discovered the pastry. I picked it up off the floor and ate it right there.

I don't know about you, but for me there are times when some anticipated pleasure turns out to be rather disappointing. 
Christmas is a case in point. You unwrap something and it isn't what you expected or what you wanted. For some people the real meaning of Christmas isn't what they expected or wanted.
A baby in a manger seems a bit uninspiring, even a bit disappointing. But if you stoop down and pick up what has been thrown about so carelessly, you will find the Saviour of the World, the Prince of Peace, the joy of life. God was lying in the dirt so you could reach him and hold him and know him. It wasn't an accident. It was as God's plan. It's a permanent fix, I've discovered it's the way to a life of purpose and fulfillment, (especially on days when I feel a bit sorry for myself.)

Christmas isn't a wash-out

 

This year I made a Christmas decoration for my front garden, using an old piece of laminated chipboard. I carefully painted Mary in her traditional blue outfit (Wilko's Ocean Spray) and Jesus wrapped in swaddling bands using brilliant white gloss (Wickes) I looked for a threequarters used tin of something in green for Joseph but as I don't like the colour green I hadn't got one amongst the other 23 almost empty paint tins I've saved for when I needed to touch-up. Resourceful as ever, I mixed Mary's blue with some yellow poster paint and hey-presto Joseph had a lovely green cloak. He had a lovely green coat until it rained through the night. In the morning Joseph had a nice brown laminate wood cloak. Mary and Jesus remained strong.

I've not much enjoyed this year since March and when I was told  it would be against the law to enjoy our normal 10 household Christmas, I was both sad and angry. So much of what matters to me, seems to have been washed away by fear this year.

But when I looked at my garden picture with the hopeful "JOY" that I'd jig-sawed out of the off-cut of my laminate board, I realised afresh that Christmas isn't a wash out this year, The child who came to show us the love and compassion of God, is still light in the darkness, hope in the despair, comfort in the loneliness, calm in the frustration. Jesus was distanced from God for 33 years so we could be close to him always. I pray that the peace of God will be in our hearts this weird Christmas.   

'Twas 6 nights after Christmas

'Twas six nights after Christmas

And all through each room

I had searched with great rigour

But not found a spoon

Recycling piled in a blue council sack

In hope that the bin men 

Would one day come back

With a little old driver so lively and quick

That he would not notice 

I'd thrown out a brick.

And then in a twinkling

 I suddenly thought

What if with the rubbish

my spoons had got caught?

I sprang to my feet and outside with a bound

I searched through the garbage

Until I had found

All wrapped in a bowl

with the last of a jelly

A fish eye, some peelings 

and something else smelly

A spoon I'd discarded

In moment'ry lapse

Or somebody else had -

more likely perhaps!

And laying my fingers 

Each side of my nose

I picked up the spoon

That the bin had exposed

My droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow

I now had a spoon and was ready to go

I whistled and shouted and turning around

Exclaimed to my husband

"Just look what I've found!"

"Your clothes are all tarnished,

get out of my sight. 

I'll buy you a spoon for next Christmas.

Goodnight"

Simplifying Christmas

 I thought I would make gift preparation quicker this year so I set up a word document to print off labels to stick on gifts.
I bought "Stampiton" labels. This well known brand does not feature on pre-sets so I needed to customise the size. The label size measurements are on the box, but I discovered I had no idea what the vertical and horizontal pitch were. I ruined four labels with one simple greeting. As you can see, I also wished everyone a Happty Christmas.
My second attempt was much more central and I spelled Christmas correctly but the senders name wasn't on it at all.

I'm so glad that when God sent Jesus on that first Christmas, he knew exactly where to put His  message of love and exactly who it was for. "You will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger...and this good news is for all people." I do hope you have a Christ centred Christmas and that you discover the message of it, is sent personally to you, with love from God.

Glory to God in the highest key known to man.

I was at a wonderful Christmas celebration today.  We sang carols. One of the difficulties with carols is that they were written when people could reach top F without any effort. Nowadays, most popular songs have a range of four lines of lyrics spread across six notes, none of them above top D, so when people are at a carol service and 'O Holy Night' is chosen they begin confidently because it starts well within their range. You can see them beginning to get a bit nervous at "Fall on your knees O hear the angel voices" and then they suddenly realise that they'll never make "O night divine"  and it's too late to drop an octave and be on the safe side. As if that wasn't bad enough, there's another "divine" coming which is possibly outside of the range of most angel voices never mind human ones. I'm not sure why, when we have capos, bar chords and transpose buttons we still insist on sticking with the key of E flat for 'O Holy Night'. The whole point of Christmas is that God came down to where we are because we couldn't reach Him where he is. God transposed himself so we could be in harmony with him. I wish you a very happy Christmas and a renewed understanding of what it really means.

Mistaken Identity

I'm not very good at remembering faces.  I watched some children perform a Christmas nativity play. They did very well. My job was to do 'the talk' and I needed some children to help me with a magic trick. I called one child up and asked, "Were you a shepherd? " She shook her head. "Oh, sorry, were you a wise man's page?" She shook her head again. I looked at her blue outfit and realised she was Mary. How do you admit to Mary in front of 150 people including her parents, that five minutes after she has been standing with Joseph in a stable, holding baby Jesus in her arms, you didn't recognise her.
The morning after my daughter got married, we all met for breakfast in a hotel. I went and stood next to an elderly gentleman who I was sure was one of her new Grandfather-in-laws. Having asked him whether he had slept well, I inquired where we were sitting for our breakfast. He smiled at me and said, "I'm not who you think I am but if you'd like to introduce yourself properly I'll take you to breakfast." He wasn't with our wedding party at all.

In the Bible, Paul writes to the people at Corinth and says, "For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, has shone in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ"
So many people don't recognise the glory of God in the face of Jesus. Maybe they just see a plastic doll. The secret of recognising who Jesus really is, is letting the light of God shine in your heart. That sheds light on who Jesus is so that you will recognise him.
Although I'm generally useless at recognising faces, I've come to not only see Gods' glory in the face of Jesus, but to know it.
To be honest, I could still walk past Mary and the new grandfathers in the street, but now that God's light has shone in my heart I can recognise Jesus immediately.
Maybe you could try it?

Christmas Nibbles

Have you ever had Christmas nibbles? Have you ever nibbled them?

Why are things that you can always eat several of in one mouthful, called nibbles?

You can nibble a very large biscuit or a big block of cheese, but you can't actually nibble a nibble because there isn't enough of it to hold between your finger and thumb and gnaw at with your teeth, which is what I think nibbling is, i.e "To bite at gently and repeatedly."  If you nibble a nibble you will bite your fingers. If you have ever accidentally bitten your fingers you will know how much force you exert in a simple nibble.

I think people maybe do nibble at Christmas though. They don't want to really get their teeth into Christmas because that would mean exploring whether Jesus was actually the Son of God, actually born to a woman who had never had sex, truly born to rescue a world with no hope of eternal happiness, really born to be the Saviour of a world that includes them. For most people that would be biting off more than they could chew. And yet that's what Christmas is, a celebration of something that you can digest and live off.

Let me ask you to stop nibbling at Christmas. It might seem hard to swallow but once you've tasted it, once you've realised that it is true, it's the most wonderful feast. 

Why are lights that flash off and on and off in random epilepsy inducing sequences, called fairy lights?

Who ever saw a fairy using lights? Come to that who ever saw a fairy?

Angels - I can vouch for there being angels, but fairies?

Warmest greetings? Not sure what they are. I had mulled berry non alcoholic punch the other day, it was tepid and horrible. Maybe that was a warmest greeting - if so you can keep it.

Is it just when you get older that you become disappointed in things because they don't live up to your expectations or memories? One thing that lives up to both my expectations and memories, is the Christmas story.  I have warmest memories about my first part in a Christmas play when I was six. I had the inauspicious line "Come children." I delivered it in my best Manchester accent. I was in Lewisham, South East London at the time and it brought the house down.

The first Christmas brought joy to shepherds and angels and wise men and people of the royal line who had almost forgotten their genealogy.

This Christmas brings joy to me. Because Jesus came, I have rediscovered my royal lineage. I was designed to be the child of a king, a child of God, and I have discovered that I feature on the royal role call because Jesus came to earth and died to forgive me of the things that might have had me crossed off the list.

There were no flashing lights and no particular warm feelings inside. I believed in Jesus. I said I was sorry for my sin, I found God and I discovered life. May I recommend the truth of the Christmas story for lighting up your Christmas.

Wrapping Presents

Last year I asked someone to please invent spray on wrapping paper. Up to now I have not heard from anyone on the subject which is somewhat disappointing as it means I will have to wrap my presents in the traditional paper wrapping manner. I have discovered that cheap wrapping paper is a false economy. I discovered that years ago, but I continued to hope that paper is getting stronger and cheap wrapping paper this year would not tear every time a corner of anything touched it. My hopes are dashed.

I understand why people use gift bags but forgive me when I say - it does seem to be cheating.
I also bought some stick on labels this year. They are bright red and you can't write on them. Everyone in my family will know that the gifts are from someone and to someone but the rest will remain a mystery unless I can find my overhead projector pens. Sticky tape dispensers are a wonderful idea but the centre spindle of mine has snapped off. I have replaced it with a short pencil, sharpened at both ends but it seems to lack the robustness that I require when tearing off the tape in a frantic hurry before my package bursts open.
I also regularly slice my fingers on the serations of the tape dispenser. If anyone wanted to find out who had sent the present which is bearing an anonymous label there would be a great deal of DNA evidence on the parcel - hair, skin, blood, and possibly occasionally saliva.
God sent us a gift the first Christmas. He wrapped his son in flesh and sent him to earth as the Saviour of the world. Later there was a great deal of DNA evidence to show how much he loved us. He hung on a cross with his hair pulled out, his skin lacerated and bleeding, soldiers' spittle in his face. It was the gift of selfless love and eternal life. It's got your name on it in indelible mercy. Maybe you'd like to accept it?

Turkey

I’m a turkey. You’ve no idea what it’s like being a turkey have you?

I’ve escaped this year, but I’m not likely to get away with it two years running.

Why turkey? Why not cauliflower cheese, that way nobody gets hurt.

I don’t like Christmas, it’s too painful. Sixteen of my mates last Thursday, all hanging there by their feet, eyes rolled back into their heads, beaks still and silent.

Whoever started Christmas must have had no idea about suffering, they mustn’t have known what it’s like to sacrifice your life for people who just think it’s all a big laugh and an excuse to get drunk

Happy .....erm

Happy.......erm?


I have invented a greeting for the awkward few days between Christmas and New Year when you aren't quite sure how to greet people - "Happy Betwixtmas"
Life tends to be fairly mundane for most of us, so when we have two highs in the space of eight days we can get a bit stuck as to what to do on the four days in between. The joy of Christmas for me, extends before and after Christmas day.  God coming to be "with me" has given me a reason to be joyful every day. I'm not pretending that no day ever seems mundane. I'm not trying to tell you that I look forward to yet another wash load and going shopping for milk and bread again - there's a certain level of the mundane in all our lives. But in my heart and soul I know that I am loved by God. That my wash loads matter to an almighty and eternal deity is a wonder, but I believe it to be true. Eternal life isn't mundane, so even amid the ordinariness of daily duties my spirit can sing, my heart can be thankful, my soul can know peace. So Happy Betwixtmas and may you come to understand the love of God that bridged the gap between a pointless existence and one full of hope and joy.

Twas 3 nights after Christmas

'Twas three nights after Christmas
And all through the house
not a teaspoon for stirring -
all used by the spouse.
The plates were all piled
in the kitchen with care
in hope that the pot fairy
soon would be there.
When just near the sink
there arose such a clatter
as one mug too many
was placed on a platter.
Away for the dustpan
I flew like a flash
to clear up the mess
that was caused by the crash
I called for assistance
from family at home
But they were too busy
perusing their phone
Their lack of compassion
drove me up the wall -
that nobody helped me
in spite of my call
My angry red face
And my large rounded belly
Was simply ignored
'Cos of football on telly
I entered the lounge
where the family sat down
and tilted my head
with a withering frown.
They spoke not a word
unaware of the litter
as they just carried on
making comments on twitter
But they heard me exclaim
as I slammed out of sight
Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night.

Glory to God in the highest key possible

I was at a wonderful Christmas celebration today. The singers were splendid, the musicians were magnificent, the stories of changed lives were inspiring, the talkers were terrific, the media was marvelous, the carols were class. 
It was unfortunate that whilst we sang "Once in Royal David's City" somebody's car blocked the working men's club entrance. It resulted in the screen displaying the words, "And he leads his children on...to the back of the hall"
I love most of the carols. My favourite is "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." People sing it every Christmas, "Veiled in flesh the godhead see, hail the incarnate deity, pleased as man with man to dwell, Jesus our Emmanuel. Mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die, born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth." So much truth in so few lines. I always sing it too loud. People in front of me turn round and stare at me in embarrassed amazement. 
The only trouble with carols is that they were written when people could reach top F without any effort. Nowadays, most popular songs have a range of four lines of lyrics spread across six notes, none of them above top D, so if anyone has to sing a carol they give up as soon as it approaches top E. I'm not sure why, when we have capos, bar chords and transpose buttons we still insist on sticking with the key of E flat for 'O Holy Night'. 
The whole point of Christmas is that God came down to where we are because we couldn't reach Him where he is. God transposed himself so we could be in harmony with him. I wish you a very happy Christmas and a renewed understanding of what it really means.

Baubles

I was once told that if you cut yourself on a Christmas tree bauble you would never stop bleeding. It may have been a lie but I've never dared to try it. I did however slice my finger ends on a headlight housing this week and they seem to leak blood regularly for the next several days. I got in the car on Friday and was not pleased that the previous occupant had got ketchup on the steering wheel. They hadn't. 

I was also told that if water which you have boiled eggs in, gets on your skin, it will give you warts. That isn't true in my experience. People don't seem to eat boiled eggs much any more which I think is a sad shame. I saw some very nice egg cups the other day and it filled me with regret that I didn't need them, as I could have put them on my Christmas list and helped my family with their present shopping. 
Today I made use of the very efficient online "click and collect" facility at Argos. I put the item number in my phone, left the phone on the table and headed off to town. It wasn't all that efficient. The assistant was marvelously helpful and urged me to pay in installments and spread the cost. I explained that I could pay in full. He continued to suggest I pay in installments. The APR is 29.9% no wonder he wanted me to pay in installments.
I thought about  Christmas. Jesus didn't pay in installments. In the Bible,the writer to the Hebrew people explained it like this  "Every priest goes to work at the altar each day, offers the same old sacrifices year in, year out, and never makes a dent in the sin problem. As a priest, Christ made a single sacrifice for sins, and that was it! Then he sat down right beside God and waited for his enemies to cave in. It was a perfect sacrifice by a perfect person to perfect some very imperfect people. By that single offering, he did everything that needed to be done for everyone who takes part in the purifying process." 

The 'too true' meaning of Christmas.

I was in Coventry yesterday. There are some very weird people in Coventry. (as well as me)
I sat and listened to a silver band play carols. I sang along as the weird people looked at me as if they weren't and I was. The band even played 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing' at my request. They thanked me for clapping. I was the only one.
As I staggered out of West Orchards having bought the heavy things first so I could carry them round with me, I was greeted by a huge poster proclaiming the new true meaning of Christmas. "Treat yourself to an Iphone 5."  Silly me, up 'til then I thought Christmas was about giving to others. I rushed off towards the Iphone store with my eco friendly paper carrier bags. Outside a charity shop the handles gave way, or maybe the paper gave way. Never sure which comes first really. Does the paper rip and the downward motion of the heavy gifts rip the handles off? or does the downward motion of the heavy gifts rip the bag once the handles have come off? Everyone in Coventry  now knows which heavy gifts I bought people for Christmas.  Fortunately as I've only bought for two people up to now, it wasn't too much information.
A very kind lady came running out, wielding some equally sturdiless bags and offering to help the poor old dear who had dropped her shopping. Until then I hadn't really thought of myself as a poor old dear, but I now seem to have managed to do whatever it takes fit that description.
I didn't get the Iphone5 for myself in the end. There are several reasons for that, not least - that isn't what Christmas is about!
Christmas is about giving to others. It started when God gave me his son. I was on his list and so were you.
I find that pretty amazing. I'll tell you what - treat yourself to a relationship with God this Christmas. It comes highly recommended and it wont give out on you when things get heavy.

The holly and the ivy

I think my least favourite carol is "The Holly and the Ivy." "We three Kings" runs a close second.                               I don't understand why the ivy is mentioned at all. "The holly and the ivy when they are both full grown, of all the trees that are in the wood, the holly bears the crown".... so why mention the ivy at all?  The carol goes on to talk about the holly, just the holly, until the last verse when the ivy gets another slap in the face because the first verse is repeated which always strikes me as unnecessary anyway. Then there's "the running of the deer," what have running deer got to do with holly and ivy and choirs and organs and the sun rising? Deer hate English ivy, so maybe that's why they are running. They have torn of a chunk of ivy (deer have no incisors in their upper jaw) and it is so horrible tasting that they have run away in disgust. Incidentally deer don't like strawberries or tulips either so the song writer could have written, "The holly and the tulips when they are both full grown..." Strawberries wont scan so they couldn't have written "The holly and the strawberries when they are both full grown..."  Furthermore, a study found that the ivy plant reduces airborne fecal-matter particles and has also been shown to filter out formaldehyde found in some household cleaning products. The only merry organs I have heard are fair ground organs and even they have an underlying sinister tone. 

So there you have it - my least favourite carol, my reasons, and some interesting facts.
Happy Christmas.

A King's Contemplation

A King’s contemplation

Have you ever felt as if you weren’t good enough?

As if you’d stepped into a place where you had no right to be.

Like going to a meal dressed for pizza, when everyone else was dressed for caviar and lobster.

 It was like that the night I met Jesus.

 I’m important where I come from. People rate me. They call me a wise man.

 I realised that night, I was foolish and ignorant.

I’d gone to Bethlehem because I’d been gazing up at the heavens and seen something I thought was worth a long journey.

 Meanwhile, God had been gazing down at me and seen something he thought was worth a long journey.

 Compared to what God’s son did, my long journey and the kneeling humbly on a cold stone floor with  my regal robes dragging in the dust paled into insignificance.

 Jesus was God’s equal. He’d been there when the worlds were first created, He was King of the universe,  but here he was  in a tiny little house in the middle of nowhere being looked after by a couple of people who were just good people, not famous, not rich, not important...just good.

Later, when he was older, people dressed him in some royal robes and gave him a crown to wear.

The crown was made of thorns. Then they spat on his royal robes, and slapped his royal face and ridiculed him. After that they stripped his robes off him and crucified him.

 Naked on a cross for everyone to laugh at.

 And do you know what he said, while he hung there?

 “Father forgive them.”

And until that point God had been unable to do it, but as His son died there bearing the punishment for our sins, it became a possibility.

And that’s why I’m a wise man.

Not because I found the star, but because I found the Saviour; and realised he’d come to find me; and to save me from an eternity separated from all that’s good and true and loving .

 You can become a wise man this Christmas.

Santa Claus

Father Christmas visited an event I was at today. There were about two hundred very little children at the event. Four of them were utterly traumatised by the big fat man with the long white beard. I was personally shocked at how much weight Santa seems to have lost since last year, in fact I would say he was an average sized man with a  medium length beard. (Even Bing Crosby would struggle to fit those words into one line of "Santa Claus is coming to Town") If you are a child please stop reading this blog now. I am actually quite surprised that we have perpetuated the lie of Santa Claus with such determined dedication. Jesus doesn't get anywhere near as much coverage at Christmas and he is an historically verifiable figure, and incidentally, the producer of Christmas. Earlier this week I went to see a Christmas play at a Church of England school. It was all about decorating a Christmas tree. The children were very sweet and sang nicely but Jesus never got a mention.
I fear that many people have reduced the Son of God to the proportions of an average sized man with a medium length beard. Sad isn't it?