Allow me to introduce you to my brand new grandson, Beau Andrew.
Isn’t he amazing?
I can’t stop staring at him.
December 17, 2025
7 lbs. 8 oz.
20 inches
Our Twelve Tribes are complete.
Introducing Beau
Christmas Eyes
Something about Christmas brings out the kid in all of us.
PB’s natural fun-loving personality really shines during the holidays.
He brings home all kinds of goodies. Every day. They are piling up.
Bags of Farm & Fleet Tootsie Roll Pops are a staple around here. In December, though, the stash is considerably expanded. After all, there are Christmas programs and dance recitals and extra church services. The demand rises dramatically, so PB keeps his pockets jammed full of suckers to pass out when the kids’ start to wiggle.
One year, PB brought home a yodeling pickle ornament. It’s motion sensitive, which means when I get up at 5:30 a.m. and tiptoe out to the kitchen, a shrill voice coming from a dark corner scares the Charles Dickens out of me. So fun!
It’s not all candy and toys for PB. He also goes in for a good game to play with the grandkids. This one is sure to be a hit with the 6-year-old and 8-year-old grandsons. We need to give them more reasons to talk about butts.
Of all PB’s fun finds, these get my seal of approval.
They don’t cause cavities,
they don’t yodel,
and they have nothing to do with butts.
These flimsy “glasses” transform the Christmas tree lights into fun shapes. We have glasses that create snowmen, reindeer, trees, candy canes and gingerbread men. These magical specs cost $1.69 each, which is the best deal in town.
See what I mean?
The glasses help you see something that nobody else sees.
It’s magic.
I’m wondering if Simeon had a special pair of glasses.
In Luke 2, when Joseph and Mary brought their 8-day-old baby boy to the temple, Simeon saw something that nobody else saw. The elderly gentleman took baby Jesus in his arms and declared, “My eyes have seen your salvation.” (Luke 2:30)
Everyone else in the temple saw a baby.
Simeon saw salvation.
He must have had Holy-Spirit-glasses.
Oh, for eyes to see like Simeon.
It’s Not Christmas
Even though all the stores and television ads are telling you otherwise,
Christmas doesn’t arrive until December 25th.
Shocking news, isn’t it?
The Christmas season is in full swing.
All the music, all the decorations, all the credit card purchases.
All of it.
But wait.
This is Advent – a time of preparing for Christmas. Just as Lent is the time leading up to Easter, Advent is supposed to be slower, quieter, and more introspective as we get ready for Christ to arrive. Instead, we jump into full-on celebration right from the start of December and by the time the 25th rolls around, we are exhausted and kind of glad it’s all over. We’re getting it all wrong.
“Advent is like the hush of the theater just before the curtain rises.”
Frederick Buechner
Four weeks are built into the Christian calendar to “help us cultivate waiting, hope, and longing. And longing isn’t short. Longing literally takes a looooong time or it’s not really a longing, is it?” (A. J. Sherrill, Rediscovering Christmas)
Oh, I know. Waiting isn’t easy. We are so used to immediate gratification—getting what we want when we want it. Advent waiting, though, allows God time to do deep work in us, if we sit still long enough.
I’m trying to reign in the hustle and bustle during Advent. I’d like to save some mental, emotional and physical energy for the day the waiting is over and the true celebration begins—Christmas Day! I don’t want to be so stuffed with Christmas by the 25th that I sleep through the real show.
Hush! The curtain is about to rise!
Two Ways to Give Thanks
My inbox greeted me with two messages on this Thanksgiving morning.
I signed up for the NYT emails so I can play Wordle.
I get SpurgeonBooks emails so I can pray the Word.
Feast your eyes on two ways to give thanks today.
“Everything will be OK. Try to enjoy the day. You can do it.”
vs.
“Always thankful to our merciful God”
Take your pick.
“Give thanks as you move through the day.
And hug your people tight.” (NYT)
vs.
“We all have some cause for thankfulness,
therefore will we praise the Lord from the rising of the sun
unto the going down of the same.” (Spurg)
It helps to know Who to thank.
Also, you didn’t think we would finish the year without a plan, did you?
The 2025 Bible Reading Plan was left wide open for December. But never fear, we will finish strong in 2025 with an Advent Reading Plan. Also, fear not—most days are only a few verses. Grab yourself a cup of coffee in the wee hours of dark December mornings, light a candle, and join me for a moment of stillness and study of His Word. The same Word that became Flesh.
Greatly Grateful
“If you think little of what God has done for you,
you will do very little for Him;
but if you have a great notion
of His great mercy to you,
you will be greatly grateful to your gracious God.”
~Charles Spurgeon~
I am greatly grateful to you for reading a small drop of ink.
“I thank my God every time I remember you.”
Philippians 1:3
Gotta go make gravy now.
We Got Robbed
Many years ago, PB and I drove to Winona, Minnesota for a Keith Green concert. We arrived early, so we left our car in the empty parking ramp and slipped into the auditorium to listen to the sound checks.
Keith Green was a radical-hippie-Jesus-lover. He had crazy piano skills and wrote songs that brought worship to a new level. I’d never heard anyone sing with so much conviction and passion. The lyrics to his songs were raw and deeply honest. It was a thrill to be able to hear him live. We sat in the front row.
After the concert, we walked back to the parking ramp and discovered our car had been broken into. The window had been smashed and our bags torn apart. We were poor college students at the time, so the robbers didn’t find anything worth stealing. It was a cold ride home to LaCrosse that night, but it could have been worse and we were thankful.
A year after we heard Keith Green perform, he died in a plane crash. He was 28 years old. I remember hearing the news on the radio, sitting on the stairs in our townhouse apartment, and weeping.
I recalled this memory because of a quote I read this week by another old dead guy, Matthew Henry. He was a preacher in the 1700’s and was attacked one night by robbers on the streets of London. Reflecting on his unsettling experience he said:
“I am thankful first because I have never been robbed before.
Second, although they took my money, they did not take my life.
Third, they took everything, but it wasn’t much.
Fourth, I am thankful that it was I who was robbed, not I who robbed.“
As we count our many blessings,
let’s be thankful for all the disasters that didn’t happen,
for all the close calls that were avoided,
for all the near misses that were thwarted.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip.
The Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.
Psalm 121
Kansas City, Here I Come
When PB asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday, I was ready with an answer.
“I want to go to Kansas City and visit the Charles Spurgeon Library on the campus of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.”
Not your typical birthday request, I know. Even PB raised his eyebrows at that one, but he’s always game for a road-trip-adventure. And I promised him some KC barbeque.
As we crossed the state line into Missouri, we played “Kansas City, Here I Come” by Wilbert Harrison, recorded in 1959, which seemed appropriate since it was my birthday trip and that’s my birth year.
See? I wasn’t making it up. Not every old dead guy gets his own library.
Spurgeon had a 12,000-volume personal library. After he died, half of his books were sold and ended up in America. They sat in boxes for 100 years in a basement. Then Midwestern Baptist rescued them and someone donated several million dollars to build a library to house and display them. Everything you ever wanted to know about Charles Spurgeon is there. We spent three hours soaking up every bit of it.
PB was a trooper.
Down deep, I think he loved seeing everything as much as I did.
This is the pew Charles was sitting on when he came to saving faith in Jesus.
He was 15 years old.
He started preaching at 17 and had his first church when he was 19.
Spurgeon’s desk—we were allowed to touch it.
So Many Books. The man read six books every week.
That’s 312 books per year.
But then, Spurg didn’t have TV or Internet or Automobiles.
The paintings all over the library were really beautiful.
Every little enclosed case had a story.
There were three cigars in his coat pocket when he died.
To the glory of God.
A good time was had by all.
My admiration for CHS grew exponentially.
I sure hope he teaches and preaches in the New Earth.
I’ll be in the front row, grinning from ear to ear.
We celebrated at Joe’s Kansas City Bar-B-Que with brisket and burnt ends.
Thanks, honey, for making my birthday dreams come true.
You’ll always be my #1 preacher.
Road Trip
Once in a while, PB and I like to jump in the car and take off.
We don’t do long vacations or travel the world.
We like being home.
Since retiring to the woods we feel like we’re on perpetual vaca,
so occasionally an adventure is in order.
Today is that day.
You’ll never guess where we’re going…
Spurgeon
Charles Spurgeon is my favorite old dead guy.
I call him my 19th century boyfriend.
PB doesn’t mind because Spurg has been dead for 133 years.
A few years ago, friends gave me a portrait of Charles that hangs in my home office. He watches over me as I sit in my chair every morning–reading, praying, thinking, writing.
The man inspires me.
He wrote 500 personal letters every week.
He preached four to ten sermons each week.
He wrote 135 books and published 63 volumes of sermons.
He read six books per week, reading no less than 500 pages every day.
He gave a two-hour lecture at the Pastor’s College every Friday.
All without a computer. No cutting and pasting, no typing even.
Every word he wrote was put to paper with a pen
that had to be dipped into an ink bottle.
His Sunday morning schedule was as follows:
Wake early and ride carriage to church.
Smoke one cigar to the glory of God.
Lead worship service, preaching no more than 45 minutes.
Greet people in the church vestry all afternoon.
Begin sermon prep for the evening service.
Preach Sunday evening sermon.
Ride carriage home and go to bed.
Charles Spurgeon, a.k.a. The Prince of Preachers,
preached 3,561 sermons over 40 years,
making him my second favorite preacher of all time.
My #1 pastor never smoked cigars.
Not even to the glory of God.
Long Distance
PB and I first met way back in 1974, before cell phones and email. We wrote letters to each other and PB saved up his dimes so he could go to the phone booth on the corner and make an occasional long-distance call.
By 1977, we were both in college and living several states apart. Because he was a poor college student, and I was a less poor college student, we devised a system for making those long distance phone calls. It went like this:
The phone would ring in my dorm room.
I would answer it.
The operator would say, “Person-to-person call for Betty.”
I would say, “Betty is not here right now.”
The operator would say, “Thank you. The caller will try back later.”
Click.
Then I would call PB on my dime.
Long distance was never a problem for Jesus. When a centurion asked the Rabbi to heal his servant, Jesus offered to come to his house. The soldier resisted, saying he knew how authority worked—all Jesus had to do was say the word and it would be done. It was a remarkable statement of faith, coming from a Roman.
Just imagine the servant, paralyzed and in great pain at home, possibly dying. Suddenly the nerves in his body fire up and feeling starts to return. The pain subsides. His feet and legs begin to twitch and then he springs out of bed and runs around the room. He thinks, “How did this just happen?”
Someone once told me that God’s phone number is Jeremiah 33:3.
“Call to me and I will answer you
and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”
So go ahead—call Him.
He’s already paid for it.
He promises to answer.
He’ll never hang up on you.
Call person-to-person.
The Holy Spirit will connect you.
a small drop of ink 