The True Reason for Christmas

Behold the Lamb of God who Takes Away the Sin of the World

Isaiah 53

Who had believed what he has heard from us?  And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? For he grew up before him  as a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; He had no form or comeliness that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised and we esteemed him not.

Surely has born our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement of our peace, and with his wounds we are healed.  All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned– every one— to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter and like a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. By oppression and judgement he was taken away; and as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off from the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people? And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and their was no deceit in his mouth.

Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.  Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities...

Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong, because he poured out his soul unto death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many and makes intercession for the transgressors.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son that who ever believes on Him will not perish but have eternal life— Merry Christmas.

A Time of Fire Breathing Dragons

Everywhere I go, tension is in the air.
Everyone is on edge.
Fear. Anger. Rage.
Helplessness. Hopelessness.
The battle rages and the fires burn hot.

And the tongue is a fire,
a world of iniquity
so is the tongue
among our members,
that it defiles the whole body
and sets on fire the course of nature;
and it is set on fire of hell. James 3:6

The country, the world, is set ablaze

by the tongues of the careless,

the ruthless, the devious,

the despicable, the deplorable.

People have become dragons, 

spewing fire at one another.

Dragons who fight to lead,

Scaly, shifty, demons,

Drag them behind them 

with long spiky tails.

The dragons stand on platforms.

Platforms that stand for what?

Life, Rights under God, justice, patriotism

Self serving choice, tolerance, globalism

What a testimony of ignominy,

That a once great nation is divided

Light and dark

The dark made light,

The light made dark.

Both represented by dragons.

Where are the dragon slayers?

The noble hearts with noble quests

ready in the whole armor of God?

Not to conquer with flaming tongues,

But with loving truth and deeds that

Stand where Governments fail,

and darkness would seem to prevail.

Tame the tongue ablaze with rage,

Spend time on the knees,

Seeking the Heart of God

And the taming of dragons.

Speak truth in love and patience.

Stand in faith for what is right,

Walk the talk, take the heat.

Offering cool cups of living water,

Some will drink
and quench their thirst,

and the dragon tongues
will morph to bless.

Others will refuse
and cling to the fire,

For dragon power is
all consuming.

Will the dragon wars come to an end

When one dragon remains victor?

Once the fires are set,

An often long battle ensues

To douse and snuff them out.

Dragon slayers and firefighters must prevail.

Taming tongues and battling their blazes.

Noble men and women with servants hearts

Must come forward and be chosen

To replace the dragons that would lead,

If this Nation and its citizens are to remain free.

The Power of the Quirky Heart

Up at night, can't sleep. The heart is pounding. At times it races.

At times it does a jig. At times it plays hop scotch.

It is as finicky as a cat, as mischievous as an imp,

Sleep on the wrong side, it protests.

Eat or drink something it doesn't like, it protests, sometimes for hours.

Slouch on the couch it becomes a grouch.

Try to kick up the workout a notch or two, and it complains like a child stamping his feet in protest.

Just try to fall asleep. It starts its jig.

Watch an intense flick and it starts its annoying kicking, like the kid at a movie theater kicking the back of your seat.

When sound asleep, it pounds to wake you then races in the 100 yard dash.

Often it gives no reason for its quirky behavior.

Internet search after internet search reveals hundreds or thousands of these temperamental hearts, which are driving as many minds crazy.

Doctor visits, emergency room visits, and test after test are caused yearly by these hearts, but those tricky little muscles behave themselves when they are being watched.

It is a plot to get the brain into trouble, for the poor brains are labeled "anxious". It's just stress the "experts" say. And the hearts snicker, pleased with themselves for the success of their ongoing prank.

Oh, the jigs, races, pounding and tantrums are harmless. They won't kill you. Nothing to worry about.

The heart acts out. The brain ignores it. The heart does a jig. The brain finds a distraction. The heart races and skips. The brain prays and meditates. The heart relentlessly throws a fit until the brain can no longer resist the temptation to fret. The heart dances with glee when it drives the brain to seek medical attention. Then, on cue, as soon as it is on stage for all to see, it beats steady and sure. And once again the brain is blamed and labeled anxious.

Occasionally, the stomach and heart team up to trick the brain. Yet the heart always leaves the stomach to take the blame with the brain. And the "anxious" brain is bullying the poor sensitive stomach to the point it makes it sick. The stomach gets the medicine, the brain gets blamed, and the heart is extremely satisfied with itself.

These quirky, finicky, tricky, impish hearts seem to be fit from all the extra activity. They know it. And the brain knows it. But when the heart thumps, skips, flips and races for extra attention, often enough, sometimes day and night, the brain eventually caves to the pressure once again.

Oh the power of the Quirky heart.

Lori Vidak

8-20-16

The Change

When women speak of "The Change," most understand that this is code for the transition period a woman makes into menopause. Let me tell you, those two little words describe this time of life perfectly.

My sleep patterns have changed: very little to none.

My diet, already restrictive, has changed. Everything I was hypersensitive to, I am now super hypersensitive to. Cut out the sugar. Cut out the simple carbs, like pasta, bread, white rice, etc., etc., etc, I can barely eat half a meal and must eat several times a day to ward off the low blood sugar shakes.

Every day, my hair decides to add highlights all on its own. Silver ones!

My skin gets a few more spots, drys out more easily, and decides to mimic crepe paper in a few not so concealed places.

My face has a few new creases. Dark circles, from lack of sleep and new allergies (not yet on the list of changes), give me the Goth look without makeup. My lips seem to be shrinking or, in the very least, are blending in around the edges with my skin. And the hook at the end of my Scottish nose is growing so long, I'm afraid I might start cackling any day now.

My belly has added a hedge of protection around the middle. I barely eat half of what use to sustain my activities, and I exercise!

Speaking of exercise, my routine has changed. I have had to tone down the heavy aerobics and have to add more yoga and Pilates, not that I mind this much. I had been meaning to do so. This "Change" makes it a necessity instead of a preference.

Dare I mention my sex life? I never thought I would go from a few times a day, to a few times a year. And, this is the real shocker; not miss it that much.

Suddenly, I have to use perfume, essential oils, body sprays, deodorizing bath soaps, and feminine wipes. I can't stand all the new odors that are introducing themselves into my life. At least now I know why all my old aunties use to smell so strong of Jean Nate.

I use to read the fine print. I still can with my super magnifiers. I have several different pairs of glasses, for reading, watching television, and the real up close and personal stuff.

 I use to be like a cat. I could see perfectly in the dark. Not now, driving at night is hair raising.

The shimmy and shake was only part of a dance routine. Lately, it's become a routine of its own.

Busyness was a part of paying bills and having a life. It has become a means of distraction from all the weird things my body and mind are doing.

All these changes and the one thing that hasn't changed yet is my cycle. I'm still having one regularly. This does not bode well.

I realize that this list might be terrifying to the younger generations of women, who have yet to look forward to "The Change." The media would have you be very afraid. More cosmetic surgeries, cosmetic wrinkle creams, anxiety meds, diet pills, fad diets, and the next "anti-aging" discovery will be sold. Women, the fear of  "The Change" is a gold mine.

Here are the blessings within these changes.

More me-time.
More prayer time.
More bible time.
(What better way to spend those sleepless, restless nights?)
More time in the presence of my Lord. (This is the best!)

I don't worry about my weight right now. The changes to my diet and exercise habits will eventually take care of that. And should it not, well, who am I trying to impress? As long as I'm healthy, I'm okay with it. This would never have been the case before "The Change".

I don't spend as much time in front of the mirror to do my hair or makeup. The more I do, the more I see, (when I have my glasses on.)  Which, I prefer not to when looking in the mirror. Soft focus is much more attractive.

Anxiety is only a physical nuisance. I am learning not to worry about it.

Time with family and friends is much more precious.

Peaceful moments are more preferred than exciting ones. (I get plenty of "excitement" on a daily and nightly basis when my heart pounds or skips around and I shake and shudder from adrenaline surges.)

Creativity is enhanced.

And, so is my sense of humor.

There are many other blessings. "The Change" makes you look for them and see them more clearly. And, you get to share them with others.

So, in summary, "The Change" is many changes happening seemingly all at once. It's an adventure if you choose to look at it that way--with plenty of roller coaster rides-- and an ever-increasing appreciation for the still moments in between. Keep or get a sense of humor about it. Go with the flow or lack thereof. (Sorry--couldn't resist. It's okay to roll your eyes.)

My best advice is to seek the presence of the Lord in the scary moments, the quiet moments and the thankful moments. Don't hesitate to call out to Him and share your thoughts, fears, and discomforts. Sing songs of praise and worship in the darkness as well as the light. Pray for others. The list will increase and your focus on yourself will decrease. The ever deepening relationship with Jesus is worth every discomfort, and every blessing.

Shalom.

Lori Vidak
6-23-16

Don't Be too Hard on Mrs. Bennet

When I first read Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, I was closer to Jane Bennet's age and did think Mrs. Bennet a somewhat ridiculous creature. Now close to Mrs, Bennet's age, I understand her. Women of our age go through drastic changes physically, mentally and emotionally. For instance the past few months, I have been experiencing some severe symptoms of perimenopause: nightly hot flushes, adrenaline surges, full-blown panic attacks (several per night and day,) muscle aches and stiff joints, abdominal pains, bloating, tender breasts, and more.

Two nights ago, stretched out upon my bed in the wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep, the attacks were horribly bad-- heart palpitations, flutters, muscle spasms, anxiety, and uncontrollable shaking-- aware of every little pain, twitch and tingle. After much prayer, reading of the Psalms and listening to relaxing music, the Lord blessed me with a thought to put my troubles in perspective and give me at least some mental relief. I suddenly recalled the scene with Mrs. Bennet after Lydia ran away with Mr. Wickham where she lay in her bed, crying and complaining to Jane, Elizabeth, Mary and Kitty of her ailments and the distress caused by the actions of her "baby" Lydia, which she blamed upon the neglect of the Forsters.



In the midst of my self-pity, I had to laugh!

Poor Mrs. Bennet was going through the change of life! She wasn't making up her complaints. They were very real. Throughout the pages of Pride and Prejudice her anxious nature and her obsessive behaviors are documented. Though Mr. Bennet and her daughter Elizabeth considered her silly and shallow, her other daughters were respectful of her, I would dare say they understood her. After all, her concern was for them, with a bit of self-preservation mixed in with her motives

In that era and society, to become poor was a terrifying prospect, but to be a poor widow woman was the worst of nightmares! In her mind, she had made a good match for herself, marrying a gentleman with an estate above modest, but fate and the laws of the land that entailed the estate to the closest male heir robbed her and her daughters of their security, the security of a good dowry for the girls and the assurance of comfort in her golden years.  

Her sole purpose in life was to secure a better one for her daughters. 

Anything that interfered with her objectives or endangered her plans was extremely vexing. She would be very anxious indeed. And though I doubt she had a full realization of the consequences that Lydia's actions could have caused, she was aware enough to know that everything that she had hoped for, every security that she had placed in advantageous marriages for her children, was jeopardized. Had not Mr. Darcy coerced Mr. Wickham to marry Lydia, the family would have been ostracized from all "good" society, thus dooming her and the girls to a life so below their current means and status that she could foresee only misery and doom. Her fears were well-founded.

Such stress could easily throw her into a series of sleepless nights and fitful days, hot flashes and panic attacks. All of which are very real physical, painful and frightening reactions to bear that can go on for days, weeks, months--even years! Jane had compassion for her mother; Mary, patience, and Kitty, patient support. Yet Mr. Bennet could not understand--he was a man, after all. And Elizabeth could not understand, being young and independent, favoring her father, until she--too--was faced with the reality of an impoverished life and saw the misery that her mother suffered as a result of the anxiety.

How many of today's women around her time of life could cope with the disappointment of a wayward child; the loss of her dreams and hopes for a secure future and the futures of her other children; as well as anxiety attacks, pains, spasms and palpitations without Xanax, Valium, hormone replacement therapy, and psychiatric or psychological therapy? Without these, Mrs. Bennet had to cope. Give the woman a break!




Lori Vidak
4-16-16