Joe McKeever

This didn't happen at Christmas, but it IS a story of giving AND has my grandson at it's heart.
Eight year Jared visits Greenville every summer for a week to attend VBS at our church. He helped his PawPaw take up offering one Sunday. The attendance is small so they just walked the center aisle abd reached the plate over to those further in the pews, or the envelopes were passed to the person on the end. Jared's great grandparents were on the far end of one of his rows. He didn't see his great granddaddy put anything in the plate. He went out to the foyer and right back down the aisle where they were seated and held his plate out, asking, "Don't you want to give your offering for Jesus?" (Actually, they had passed it in and the man on the end had put it in for him.)
We told the preacher our financial worries would be over if he got Jared to collect each week.

Lara Johnson, Greenville

After a discussion with my children and my sister, I became very troubled about Christmas vs. A Happy Holiday. Why? I had to ask. Why, was I so disturbed? Why, was I unsettled in my spirit? And why, was I feeling angry? I truly did not understand, except that I knew there was something big about it... for me.

I read today, for the first time about the origin of Christmas and how it is filled with controversy and compromise. It's roots are very disturbing. I am realizing that the ways that I celebrate the Christmas holiday today is aligned with the world's customs and traditions.

I asked God to help me with understanding and give me clarity.

He helped me to see that my anger wasn't about others, but about myself. I was screaming loud that the "outsiders" were infringing on my precious celebration of Jesus birth. The Holy Spirit impressed on me, that I am claiming to be an"insider" yet, I am "doing" the same things as the "outsiders"...how do I differ from them? Like them I decorate the house, spend time with family and friends, buy gifts and eat a huge meal. Oh, I may offer a token "Happy Birthday" to Jesus on Christmas morning, or send Christmas cards with His picture on them, but at the heart of it, the fact of His birth does not impact the way I celebrate the day that Christians have set aside to observe the birthday of Jesus. I understand my anger, now!

I actually said, in all of its' absurdity, "Why are "they" buying gifts? We're buying gifts because it is Jesus' birthday." On my birthday I "receive" gifts. Something seems askew here. Isn't He the one who should be receiving the gifts?

My prayer is that whether it's December 25th, or any other day of the year, I want to use as many opportunities as possible to reflect on Jesus and His message of hope for all of us.

I really want my Christmas to be nothing more than a simple, yet wonderful reminder of Christ's humble beginning as a baby in this world. His birth merely set the stage for the power, glory, and salvation that would be revealed in His life, death, and resurrection!

As time goes by, I am praying that my emphasis will change.

Dear Joe,

After a couple of your latest writings, I feel almost famous, by association. :)

This is a Christmas story that I’ve shared many times over in our small groups through the years.

We were poorer than poor. I recall a time when I didn’t have $.10 for an ice cream cup after lunch. I sat there day after day at that lunch table with my friends, pretending that I didn’t want one, when in reality, I would have eaten about anything that would have put a pound on my pitifully thin bird-leg body-frame.

Anyway, that sort of sets up this Christmas story: That same year I wanted a watch for Christmas more than I had every wanted anything previous to that time. Years before, my step-father had given my mother a watch that he had saved for years to buy and it was beautiful. It was white-gold with a diamond on each side. So you can imagine how excited I was when a gift appeared with my name on it under our silver tinsel tree. A gift in a box just the size of watch box.

On Christmas Eve, when I opened the box, there was surely a watch inside and tears began to stream down my face. My mother was saying, “Do you like it?” “Do you like it?” And, from the most selfish 13 year old that God ever created, I said, “No, I don’t like it at all.” “This watch is gold with a stretch band and no diamonds.” “I wanted one like yours.” At that instant, she took off her watch and put it on my arm, taking mine and placing it on her own arm. And, it stayed that way for over twenty years. As I type these words now it makes tears swell in my eyes as it has so many times over the years. But, that’s not the entire story. At the age of 34, while looking for something in the attic, I ran across the watch. It had stopped working, but I took it to a jeweler, who brought it back to life and added a gorgeous new band. It seemed more beautiful than before.

I then wrapped it and gave it to my mother. That would have been Christmas 1984. It’s a wonder to me that she, remembered the watch, but did not remember the story….or so she said. I think that watch is about the best gift I have ever received and it is definitely the best gift I’ve ever given.

It reminds me that the best gift that any of us can ever receive is the gift of Jesus’ love, and how ironic that the best gift that we could ever give back to Him is that same gift…our love.

Joe,
One of my most memorable Christmases was spent on the road. I was 20 or 21 years and, working/driving for a moving company. We had a client that had to move on the holiday due to a transfer. I was the only driver not married with children so I took the trip. This put my return trip home on Christmas day. That family had given me some food to take with me to eat on the way home. (there would be nothing open) I stopped in a gas station parking lot in Jasper AL to eat. A poor family in an old bad oil smoking, windows fogged up, dirty car pulled up to use a pay phone. There were several children in the car. You could just tell they did not have much. I got out and asked the Mother if I could share some fruit with the children. Although I was alone on Christmas day working, God gave me a way to share some of what I had with someone else's need.
Sharing has always been a big blessing to me each Christmas.
Mathew 25: 40 “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’

In the second church I served as pastor, there was a family with very little of this world's goods. Mr. and Mrs. Guier were rich in love for their church and their young pastor and wife.

They lived in a four-room building that would fit inside my present house, down a road composed of river and creek bed gravel. It was a little rough to maneuver my car down there at times. Inside the house a single light bulb hung from the ceiling in each room, and there was an open fire place. The couple were on in years and often unable to attend church. Sometimes I would pick them up and drive them to Sunday services.

As I look back one of the greatest gifts we received that Christmas came from them. This would have been 1958 or 1959. Every time Anna and I called on them, they always wanted me to read the Bible and have prayer. That year, they presented to us a set of six glasses, wrapped the best they could manage. They had saved the glasses from 25 pound bags of flour. The glasses were frosted, clear at the top with green diamonds around the top. Snowflakes were scattered around the glasses, giving them a festive look. We took the glasses home and used them for years.

These days, only two of the glasses remain. The others were broken in moving or in raising our children. As we look at them now, given a place of honor in our china cabinet, they remind us of a great love that Mr. and Mrs. Guier had for us. They gave us the best that they had.

Sometimes when we would visit, they would hand me a dollar or two, and say, "This is for you and Mrs. Cole. It's not for the church."

Writing this brings tears to my eyes, just remembering these who gave the best they had to their pastor and wife.

And no, Joe, you cannot have one of the glasses. I wish I had shown them to you when you were here last Spring.

Well, this one belongs to Sam Allen of Nashville's "No Other Name" gospel singing group. He told it at Jasper, Alabama, last Sunday night. I asked his sister Laura to encourage him to post it, but evidently he hasn't had time. So, I'll tell it for Sam, as I recall it.

"I grew up on a Christmas tree farm in central Florida. As a teenager, it was my job to jump up from the supper table when some customer pulled into the yard wanting a tree, and go help them select one. Then, I'd cut it down and shake it out, and often have to deliver it to their home."

"One time, this Yankee woman drove up and picked out a tree. I cut it down and was getting the information from her as to where to deliver it, when she said, 'Oh, one more thing. Could you bring me some greens?'"

"I thought, 'Greens? You want greens?' Now, we were a farm family and we had greens out in the garden, but this was a first. When I told Dad he said, 'She asked for greens? We don't even know her?'"

The congregation at New Prospect Baptist Church was laughing at Sam's story because they knew where this was going. To southerners, 'greens' means only one thing.

Sam continued, "You can imagine the look on that woman's face when I delivered her Christmas tree and presented her with a sack full of collards."

Someone commented, "Those collard wreaths just don't hold up long, do they?"

Of course, to that woman, 'greens' referred to the small limbs and leaves of the evergreens which she would arrange into some Christmas decoration.

(If I were using that for a Christmas sermon, I'd probably let it illustrate either a) the mistakes we make about Christmas or b) the perishability of so much we do at this season. But you'll think of other uses. Thanks, Sam, for a funny story.)

Paster Joe,
I'm Graham Bryant and I would also like to meet you!
Merry Christmas to you and your family! :) <3