This year we are involved in the Samaritan’s Purse Christmas Shoe Box Campaign.
Please return your boxes no later than Sunday November 17th. Donations for the shipping costs can be done online by clicking on the OCC logo. If you would prefer, you can also purchase boxes that have already been packed for you.
UPDATE: This year we packed 60 shoeboxes. PTL! Thanks to everyone who participated.
Christmas concerts. What would Christmas be without them? You can take the grinchiest-cold-hearted, anti-Christmas commando and put him or her in the audience of a Sunday School Christmas pageant and their hearts will melt. Guaranteed!
Last Sunday we had our Sunday School Concert. It was called “the Great Christmas Giveaway” and it was truly excellent and full of many wonderful and surprisingly good performances. The story involve some students shopping at a mall for their teachers’ Christmas present and how, through their interaction with some of the store owners in the mall, they learn the true meaning of Christmas. Wouldn’t you just love that to be true? What would it be like if shopping in the mall, and interacting with sales staff ended up being a spiritual experience that pointed us to the truth of Christ? It’s a bit hard to believe such a
thing would happen, isn’t it?
Well, I don’t think so because shopping in the mall is always a spiritual experience for me, because throughout the process, I spend a lot of time in repentance for the thoughts I am having about the crowds and the line ups and the store owners. Then I am always deeply in prayer so that I can find my car in the parking lot! I need my own personal Christmas Star to lead me to my car. Do you have any idea how many tan Honda Accords there are in any given parking lot? I seem to have digressed, let’s get back to the Christmas Concert.
When I was about six or so, I remember vividly one day in early December. I can’t really remember much of anything else from my sixth year. After such a long, long, long, time, people and events and situations blend into a foggy soup of hazy impressions.
Still, this one day, remains very clear. I was home from school. By myself. My mom was at work. My brother was either still at school, or out with his friends.
This was the normal course of my life at the time. Growing up with a single-mom and a brother seven years older than yourself makes for a lot of time on your own. It means that you have to grow up fast and be responsible. And I did grow up fast and I was responsible—most of the time. On this particular day –not so much!
It all started with a knock at the door. It was a delivery man with a couple of big boxes from Eaton’s. I signed for the boxes with penmanship that has remained remarkably similar to what I am capable of scratching today. The delivery man, no doubt disappointed that a six-year-old knows nothing about tips, left me alone . . . with the boxes.
I knew that the boxes were most likely Christmas presents and I should probably have just forget they were there and go about my business, but something told me that there was a good chance that I could probably open the boxes and see what was inside of them and somehow get whatever was in the boxes back in the boxes with no one ever being the wiser.