A Christmas birthday--a blessing?

Yes, today is my birthday. I turned 51 years old at 12:51 PM this afternoon. I have time to post tonight as we always get chores off around here on our birthday. I was pondering what to write about when the old nagging ache showed up again. Do you have any idea what it is like to be born on Christmas day (or even near it as others have confirmed)?
For as long as I can remember, people have made a big deal out of my being born on Christmas Day, but not the kind of big deal you may be thinking of. Starting on day 1, when old Doc Mac had to miss his Christmas lunch because of me, I got the impression that I was a nuisance for picking that time to be born. Could I really help it?
I can recall the many times that it was too much of a bother to make a birthday cake for me because, after all, there were 2 dozen types of Christmas cookies and why wasn't that enough sweets?
I can recall my grandparents giving me this wonderful, brand-new radio for my 13th birthday/Christmas gift combined. I felt so grown-up to have my own radio and, after all, I didn't know the value of things very well. However, when my brother got the very same radio in July, plus his Christmas gift in December, I started to wonder if maybe I hadn't gotten jipped just a little. That was the first time I had ever pondered my worth and the "Joy"of being a "Christmas baby."
Then take my name. How many times did I hear my mom say, "People thought that I should name my Christmas baby "Carol" or "Holly" or "Joy" or "Noel," but I just wanted a "Dawn." Did she really? Why did she say that a million times if she was really happy with the name that she had given me? I happen to like the name "Holly" very much. I'm wondering if I would have liked the name "Dawn" better if I had been born at some other time of the year?
Then too, I recall my aunts coming to our house for Christmas dinner and my mom pointing out to them that it was "Dawn's birthday." How I didn't cringe before the words were out of their mouths. "Oh Dawn, I'm so sorry, but with all of the hussle and bussle of Christmas I clear forgot all about your birthday." Every year it was the same thing. How I learned to hate my birthday as it was an annual reminder that I wasn't worth remembering to make special. I never would have expected a gift or anything from my relatives but, just one time, couldn't SOMEONE have come through the door with a "Happy birthday Dawn" on their lips? After all, they'd known me all of my life--it shouldn't be that hard to remember.
As I aged, I started to get a kick out of people's reactions to my birthdate. You have to give everyone your birthdate if you write a check in the city. Invariably the clerk will smile as she writes down 12/25 and then the year. Hundreds of times clerks have commented, "A Christmas baby." GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR--I'M NOT A BABY ANY MORE AND IT DIDN'T DO ME A BIT OF GOOD WHEN I WAS ONE!!!!!!!
One time I didn't mind it though. The children and I were on our way to a wedding in SD, and I was late. Oh for Pete's sake--here comes the highway patrol.
"You're going a bit too fast Maam," he said gruffly.
He took my license; ran his check; and then came back smiling back to the car.
"Well Maam, I see that you have the same problem that my son has."
"What's that?" I asked puzzled, hoping that he'd hurry up.
"You're born on Christmas day."
"OH YEAH," I groaned, "What fun."
"He doesn't like it either. Well, keep it under the speed limit from now on. This is just a warning."
I smiled; took my wallet; watched him walk back to his car; took off; and said a prayer for his poor son. At least HE had an understanding Dad.
In the past few years, a new awakening has come over me, though, and this is what I'd like to share with you. After we moved here to this farm, one of the neighbors found out that I was born on Christmas day. She made a big deal out of it. "YOU'RE BORN ON THE VERY SAME DAY AS THE LORD WAS!!! IT'S A SIGN THAT YOU ARE A VERY SPECIAL PERSON, DAWN!!!"
Oh bother. If I'm such a special person, then why didn't any of my family or relatives (Uncle David excluded) know about it all of my growing up years?
But she planted a new seed in my mind, about my birthday, and it's been growing. After all, the birthdays in these later years have been very pleasant. Also, Robert proposed to me on my 22nd birthday--December 25, 1979. So it can't be ALL bad, right?
Well, I thought that I'd tell you about what happened today that has made my lean more towards the Christmas birthday=blessing side rather than Christmas birthday=curse side of thinking.
This is what happened. There is this movie that I have been trying to find for a long time now. We saw it years ago and I've never been able to get it out of my mind. I thought I'd like the children to see it but, last year when we found it on Ebay it was over $30. Well, today my daughter, Cora, gave it to me for my birthday and I just gasped. "You didn't spend $30 for this I hope."
She smiled and said, "No, I waited until summer and it wasn't much at all." What a great shopper she is!!!
So we just finished watching it and it was as fantastic as I remembered and I share the name of it with you with my highest recommendation although small children probably would be frightened by it. It's called MIRACLE IN THE WILDERNESS. It's an incredable story about how the story of Christ's birth saved our hero and his wife from a dreadful future.
Well as I watched it, I heard the story with a new light as it was told in the setting of the Native American culture. All of a sudden I realized, with a deeper meaning, the absolute miracle it was that GOD CAME DOWN TO EARTH AS A BABY. Watching the Native Americans reaction to the story the first time that they heard it made it fresh and exciting to me. Suddenly I realized how precious the birth of Christ REALLY IS.
The most wonderful part of the story is how the love of this Christian woman for her husband changed his life, not to mention the love of God touching the cheif's heart in a powerful way. WOW!!!!!!!!!!!
Guess what? Tonight, for the first time that I can remember, I am NOT ANGRY that I am born on Christmas day. PRAISE THE LORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just maybe, Ann was right and it really is an honor to be born on the day that the world acknowledges Christ's birth. Just maybe........
I share a special song too as I think of all of this. It's called AND CAN IT BE. I suggest that you get out a hymnal and read the words as you think of Christ's coming to earth. Why would He leave Heaven to come down here with us? Why indeed? So, I guess if He wanted me to born on Christmas Day, maybe it's time for me to get over my bad attitude about it and just be happy that I'm here at all.
Still if you do happen to know somebody who is born on Christmas day, maybe you can try going out of your way to make them feel extra special on their birthday. Why? because they're really more special than anyone else? No, but just maybe they have had a lifetime of disappoitments on their birthday like I did and just maybe they could use a little extra pampering to help them to realize how special they really are.

Full of Beauty

I've always felt like the ugly duckling. I suppose it came from the abuses I endured in my childhood. In fact, when I was a teenager, my favorite song was Janice Ian's AT SEVENTEEN where she sang about how it felt to be an ugly girl in the school system. This time of year it's worse than at other times and I finally understand why. Now I think it's because it's the holiday season and that's when this event occurred.
In my senior year of high school, all of us girls were ordered to try out for the Snow Queen beauty contest. Prior to this, participation had been optional but now, with the school size diminishing, all of us girls were told that we HAD to participate. It was a low blow as I knew that I didn't have a chance in the world at winning the title of "Miss Eureka." How humbling it was to have to go through the motions of acting excited, like the pretty girls were doing, when all of the time I felt so ugly that I knew no judge in their right mind would ever choose me. Still, my folks bought me a dress and acted happy about the "Honor."
The only way that I got through it at all was that the Lord sent my uncle David home for Thanksgiving that year. He was always such a nut about me--looking at the internal beauty, you see. So he kept calling me, "Miss Eureka," the hours before the event and I clung to the thought that SOMEBODY saw some beauty in me. Of course I didn't win and of course I knew that I deserved not to because of my great ugliness. For years after that, though, Uncle David would call me "Miss Eureka," when he was home from Wisconsin, and I smile to this day remembering what he did for this ugly duckling that night of the Snow Queen contest.
The concept of "My" beauty is something that I have always struggled with. I can recall a collage friend threatening me to end our friendship if I didn't quit insulting myself. I didn't believe her and suffered her cold shoulder for months until I apologized to her. Then she stood up for me at my wedding. The irony of the whole thing is that she is somebody that I think is absolutely beautiful but Robert sees nothing of great beauty in her. So what is beauty? Well, this answer came to me the other day and I share it with all of you ladies who ever had to endure the pressures of a beauty contest or just plain growing up with Barbies. May this bless you as much as it did me!!!
Several years ago some good friends gave us the book MORNING AND EVENING which is a collection of Charles Surgeon's writings. I highly recommend filling your mind with these deep thoughts every morning and evening. I have been uplifted many times when I was experiencing the lows of the Christian life in this weary, sin-filled world. Although I don't get around to it every day, sometimes I just feel the Lord urging me to read the passage for that day and it is exactly what I have been needing. Such was the case recently when I read the following thoughts. This is the December 3rd reading for the morning. I pray that it will bless you, as it did me, when you get discouraged with the seemingly lack of progress towards our Heavenly home. The Scripture verse is Song of Solomon 4:7 which reads: There is no spot in thee.

Having pronounced His church positively full of beauty, our Lord confirms His praise by a precious negative, "There is no spot in thee." As if the thought occurred to the Bridegroom that the carping world would insinuate that He had only mentioned her comely parts, and had purposely omitted those features which were deformed or defiled, He sums up all by declaring her universally and entirely fair, and utterly devoid of stain. A spot may soon be removed and is the very least things that can disfigure beauty, but even from this little blemish the believer is delivered in his Lord's sight. If He had said there is no hideous scar, no horrible deformity, no deadly ulcer, we might even then have marvelled, but when He testifies that she is free from the slightest spot, all these other forms of defilement are included, and the depths of wonder is increased. If He had but promised to remove all spots by and by, we should have had eternal reason for joy; but when He speaks of it as already done, who can restrain the most intense emotions of satisfaction and delight? O my soul, here is marrow and fatness for thee; eat thy full, and be satisfied with royal dainties.
Christ Jesus has no quarrel with His spouse. She often wanders from Him, and grieves His Holy Spirit, but He does not allow her faults to affect His love. He sometimes chides, but it is always in the tenderest manner, with the kindest intentions:it is "my love" even then. There is no remembrance of our follies, He does not cherish ill thoughts of us, but He pardons and loves as well after the offence as before it. It is well for us it is so, for if Jesus were as mindful of injuries as we are, how could He commune with us? Many a time a believer will put himself out of humour with the Lord for some slight turn of providence, but our precious Husband knows our silly hearts too well to take any offence at our ill manners.

WOW--it is SO wonderful to know that our perfect God is not offended at my foolish doubts. He knows me so well as to know all of my negative thoughts and still loves me--is there anything more wonderful than this? I guess, if He is willing to see me as full of beauty, I should at least be willing to try to see myself that way. What a new and wonderful thought as I ponder the good work which He has begun in this ugly duckling. Surely He will complete it in me!!!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Dear friends,
It's my favorite day of the whole year and I just want to write and extend wishes to each of you for a wonderful Thanksgiving day. I have soooooooo many things that I am thankful for that I could write a book about them--maybe I will. :)
Most of all I praise the Lord for sending His son to this earth to save our souls from eternal sorrow. Yes, we have many sorrows on this earth, but nothing can compare to THAT reality.
Secondly, I thank the Lord for sparing my life 2 years ago, for I have had countless joys in these past 2 years.
I am so thankful for the most understanding husband in the whole world. Robert and I have been together 28 years now and it's just as exciting to be with him as when we first met!!!
Next I praise God for the 3 most incredable children on earth. Cora, Andrew, & Jacob are so awesome--I really mean it. When I find the time to write about my near-death experience in '06, you will see how they sustained me each day. They did all of the chores; kept the garden going; did my field work; and found time to re-do the kitchen in their spare time. Of course their papa helped a lot with this last one.
Lastly I am going to say something that I never thought I would ever say. I am thankful that the Lord has given our family the internet (with the AFA filter). You see, I used to feel all alone out here on the prairies of ND, but now I can talk to folks all over the country. It is such a blessing to know that I'm not the only Christian home school mom who milks cows & goats; drives tractor; keeps the Sabbath; or does BodyTalk. I AM NOT ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I guess I've always known that the Lord has His remant spread throughout the world and that I was a part of it. I just didn't know where any of the rest of "It" was!!! Now I see that the internet is a good way to find them and to keep in touch with them! You who will read this are blessing me by assuring me that I am NOT alone in the world while I serve my King in my own way. So I want you to know that I thank the Lord for each one of you and I bless you all with this thought, "I wish you enough." I wish I could find that poem right now but I'm in a hurry to get back to the plans for supper, so I'd best close. Still, I will look for it later and post it when I find it.
Back to the turkey.
Dawn
PS. Jacob just said, "Your blog looks boring without pictures, Mom." I'll post some later.

Peace

I just have a few minutes to write--REALLY just a few minutes this time. This may be the shortest post ever, but I just want to thank you ladies for the encouragement to continue. This week my son, Andrew, turned 18. He now has a piece of paper saying that he has registered with the selective service. I said to my friend Sarah, "We raised him to be peace loving and now he must register to go fight if necessary."
My mother's heart is not at peace. Has anyone any comments along this line?

I'm new

As you may probably be able to tell by my lack of posts, I am a brand new blogger. I have thought about this for a loooooooong time but I am so busy that it hardly seemed like a sensible thing to do. My family knows that I love to write so they have encouraged me to finish my book but right now that seems too daunting. Still, sometimes I simply MUST write or burst so here is the option that many others have taken and I am taking it too.
I usually talked myself out of spending my precious time here but this afternoon, during our political science class, the words rushed through me, "Start your blog." Before my involvement in BodyTalk, I would have crammed this intuitive thought down where it belonged--right in the "When I'm a grandma" category. But now I know that I MUST speak and I will leave it to the Lord if anyone will listen.
When I was young (I just turned 50), I would have fussed over font style, color, size... but now I am toooooooooo busy for all of that stuff. I know that it is very good to make a good impression, but that doesn't seem to matter as much now. It's like this--either I take a few minutes before making supper to "Share my heart" in my imperfect fashion, or it won't get done at all. So I apologize, right off the bat, for what I used to call "Sloppy" work, but please just know that what is on my heart/mind is what matters the most to me now.
I named my blog A RAY OF HOPE, because that is what I will be writing about most of the time. You see, I almost died 2 years ago and I'd like to share with everyone what the Lord showed me about recovering my health. It's a long story and one that I'll need to reconstruct another time but first of all, I'd like to know if anyone would even read it. I'm not into talking, just for talking sake, so I'm leaving it up to the Lord. If nobody write back, I'll save the time and that's that. Still, I'd hate to REALLY die and have to tell God that I just didn't have the time to send out any hope to people who were really needing some.
As you may guess, the greatest hope that I could ever offer anyone is the knowledge that God loves you so much that He sent His son to earth to die for us all. We can tell Him that we're sorry for our sins and have the glorious peace that He promised in John 14:27 PEACE I LEAVE WITH YOU, MY PEACE I GIVE UNTO YOU; NOT AS THE WORLD GIVETH, GIVE I UNTO YOU. LET NOT YOUR HEART BE TROUBLED-NEITHER LET IT BE AFRAID.
That's the verse that I repeated to myself as I dealt with internal shingles on my brain in '06 but I don't want to get ahead of myself and supper needs to be started, so I'll close.
If this is my one and only post on my one and only blog, I will sleep well knowing that I have shared my favorite verse with the world. I don't care that it's not politically correct. I didn't survive shingles on my brain and 750 bee stings because I was politically correct. It was the Lord that spared my life and I'll be happy to tell the story if anyone wants to hear it. :)
Waiting,
Dawn