Santa is Coming

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!" My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95. May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care... And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

Faith and Physical/Emotional Health

In public health circles, the level of educational attainment is held to be the key demographic predictor of physical health. For over two decades, however, the level of religious practice has been shown convincingly to be equally important.

As early as 1972, researchers from the Johns Hopkins University School of Public Health found that cardiovascular diseases, the leading killers of older people, were reduced significantly in early old age by a lifetime of regular church attendance. By contrast, non-attendees had higher mortality rates for such other diseases as cirrhosis of the liver, emphysema, and arteriosclerosis, in addition to other cardiovascular diseases and even suicide.Research on mortality patterns among the poor confirmed a decade later that those who went to church regularly lived longer. Since then, other studies have reinforced this general finding.

Dealing With Issues, Problems, Illnesses

I receive an occasional newsletter from this Pastor Matutis who lives in Germany. His messages sometimes touch me as helpful so I am passing this one on to you.


What to say to ones problems?
======================
Recently, someone came to me and asked - due to a desperate situation she was in - to give her a useful but effective prayer formula.

I prayed with this person when suddenly the Holy Spirit spoke to me to tell that person, speak to your problems:
"I am a friend of God."
================

She stared at me and said in a loud voice:
"I am a friend of God."
===============
Wow, I am a friend of God. That's effective!
She repeated and repeated these words, got up and left to go home, however, relieved and inspired.

Even I had received a message that grabbed me and didn't let go of me.

A message that I would like to share with you, too.
=====================================
Tell your problems, all of them, that you met Jesus and that you are a friend of God.

I could not let go of that thought. The greatest thing that can happen to a man in his life is that he becomes a friend of God.

SInce that day, I keep repeating: I am a friend of God.
Both of us stick together, God does not abandon me.
He is my good friend.

Whatever happens to me, I'll simply say: God is my friend.

I tell the difficulties that want to strike me: God is my friend.

As soon as they hear that God is my friend, they get terrified and disappear and hide as fast as they can.

I am flabbergasted, how this works.
I only have to confess courageously, in speaking aloud, that God is my personal friend and life immediately treats me differently.

I meditated about this today and God spoke to me:
"Just profess that you belong to Me and I will profess that I belong to you.
Tell all your adversaries, that you are My friend and all of them will flee from you and will abandon their evil plans against you.
My child, as long as I am your friend they will have nothing at all to harm you. "When I AM for you - nothing can be against you", said to me the Lord.

All I have to say, that I am God's friend...that's all. Right away it continues. Right away God's angels, surround me and I am amazingly surrounded "by the powers of good", and right away all is well again.

Isn't that also something for you to treasure?
=================================
Why don't you just say...."I am a friend of God!"
* Say to your problems - I am a friend of God
* Say to your illness - I am a friend of God
* Say to your worries - I am a friend of God
* Say to your temptations - I am a friend of God
* Say to your fears - I am a friend of God
* Say to your doubts - I am a friend of God
* Say to your adversaries - I am a friend of God
* Say to your weaknesses - I am a friend of God
* Say to your needs - I am a friend of God

It is great to be a friend of God.
======================

Alienate yourself as God's friend, and comfort yourself, in turn, with God's friendship.

Your world around you should see, that not you are their friend, but God is.

That will shock them and will instill respect before them.
Become aware that wherever you are "I am a friend of God."
less You

Pastor Joh.W.Matutis

A Healing Commmunity

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a small village in the East, a man came and lived among the people. He was very kind, and gentle, especially to the children.

The people grew to love this man, and before long, he began to teach them how to live more fruitful and exciting lives. He some times worked in his little shop at the edge of town, but he sometimes came to the village-square and talked to the people who would gather there.

After some months, the townspeople started to call him, teacher, and came to him for personal, private advice and counsel as well as for his little lectures.

One day, he surprised the group by announcing that he had discovered some secret formulas for bringing health and joy to the sick. Since medical care was not available to most of the villagers, and its quality poor, they reacted with surprise and expectation. In Accordance to the times and his style, he handpicked several people from among the villagers to work with him to learn the principles of healing and health.

“I have only a very few years to stay in this place before I must return home. So, it is important that you learn As much as possible about these principles so you can then choose a group like this to pass them to in the same manner as I am giving them to you. I am giving you the power and knowledge to change the world, so go teach students everything I have taught you.”

In the early years after the teacher left the town, his students did just as they were told. Many people came to them and asked for the formula for healing and they passed it on with happiness and joy. Before long, the authorities, which were worried that the group was going to form a political party, passed laws prohibiting them from giving the formula away. As a result, they formed into small groups and scattered around the whole world telling people in other countries about their teacher’s great discovery and how they too could learn the his secrets. Much to their surprise and shock, many leaders and physicians were angry with them for telling their good news. In some places, those who took the secrets to the people were persecuted and even killed.

Despite the harassment and persecution, the news spread far and wide as more and more people were formed into small groups who were taught how to pass it on to others. Before long, the whole of the area was abuzz with talk about the teacher and his formula for life.

It is a well-known fact that stories that start off so well must have a part where something awful happens. In this story, it is no different, because a few of the people who were supposed to spread the good news became involved in politics. It seemed like a good idea at first because the king promised them safety and security if they would only give him the right to use the teacher’s words as his own political slogans. He even went into war with the peace logo of the teacher in his weapons, and told everyone that, unless they followed him, they would be enslaved or killed. He also suggested that the teachers stop giving the formula away. “Since it is so valuable,” he said, “ we should make sure that only those who are in our political party should get it. Here is what we shall do. Our first task is to place the formula in a special safe so only our own leaders can get to it. Next, we will set up a school for teaching the formula that will only be open to our select group of students. I know that the teacher said that anyone could take the formula and pass it on to others, but he was a bit naive in how the world of politics really works. In fact, we should teach the formula in a secret language so only the most select people can learn it. Then, we will make special clothes for the Code Keepers to wear and the regular people will realize that they are too ignorant to read it for themselves or apply it to their own lives.”

Lastly, we shall take the formula and allow people to come and look at it only once per week. We do not want it to become too popular or profane. Let us make its appearance into a very special, holy act.”

The result was just as you might predict. The formula for life, health and peace was locked in a vault in a large, fancy building. Each week, a few beautifully dressed officials would take the formula from the vault and read a small part of it to the assembled crowd. They were always careful not to read too much lest the rabble learn the formula and destroy the authority of the politicians in charge.

On a few occasions, some member of the rabble stole copies of the book and wrote it in the language of the people. In most cases, however, they were caught and killed in a very painful manner to warn others not to try the same thing.