Monday School

Jesus vs St. Nicholas (Santa Claus)

I have been reading the work of a poet that goes by the pen name ‘just a guy’. A recent poem titled ‘Parade’, he is able to stand on his back porch and watch his towns Christmas parade go by. At the end of the parade is Santa. That jolly man in a red suit. ‘I opened my back door

and shouted at that fat jolly man

“You’re not real!”

He couldn’t hear me

The firetrucks were all honking.

He just kept waving to the children who ran after him

with wide eyed wonderment.’

If everything I’ve read about St. Nicholas is true, he was a good person. ‘Much admired for his piety and kindness, St. Nicholas became the subject of many legends. It is said that he gave away all of his inherited wealth and traveled the countryside helping the poor and sick. One of the best-known St. Nicholas stories is the time he saved three poor sisters from being sold into slavery or prostitution by their father by providing them with a dowry so that they could be married.’

Jesus gave gifts as well. He made the lame to leap, the deaf to speak, and the blind to see. He chased away demons and calmed a raging sea.

So why does it seem Santa, (Today, Santa Claus is now a common image of Christmas who still carries on the spirit of giving that St. Nicholas started centuries ago and his likeness is known across the world.) has won the popularity contest? In one word, marketing. Santa sells. Just as DeBeers did a marketing campaign that men should spend 10% of their income on an engagement ring. Satan has used marketing to sweep Jesus under the rug at Christmas.

What sells better than someone who gives you presents? You don’t have to do a thing. Santa spews presents from his sack. You can even sit on his lap and ask for what you want.

Jesus doesn’t sell well. He has some strings attached in the form of expectations. ‘To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). Mark 12:30-31 NIV “30 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ 31 The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” Just a couple examples.

And Jesus had some hard truths for us as well.  You know the golden rule; do unto others as you’d wish them do to you. Matthew 7:12 NIV “12 So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” “Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him?” Jesus responded, “I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven” (Matthew 18:21–22). Just a couple examples.

When we accept the free gift of Jesus, we have to do all the work. Salvation is free for the asking. The Bible expects us to use our gift, share it. But with Santa, all we have to do is exist.

Santa brings temporary joy. From the poem above, can you just see all the children ‘who ran after him’? After Christmas Santa is gone. Until July. Jesus lives on. Year round.

The Bible

https://www.history.com/topics/christmas/santa-claus

https://www.vintageisthenewold.com/game-pedia/is-santa-more-popular-than-jesus#:~:text=Despite%20the%20proliferation%20of%20Santa,wield%20more%20influence%20than%20Jesus.

The Engagement Ring Story: How De Beers Created a Multi-Billion Dollar Industry From the Ground Up

Parade

The Modern Santa Claus

Winter Season

What job?

Esther sat with her legs stretched out on the couch, browsing through the newspaper. A sorry excuse for a newspaper at that. Her mission was looking for a job. What job? This little town had not one. The classified section of the paper was a swap meet. There came a knock at her door. “Who is it?” She called.

“It’s me.”

“Come in, me.” She teased. Oscar poked his head through the door. “Come in.” She smiled.

“What’s up?”

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Sure,” she got up from the couch to get ready to go outside. “Where are we going?”

“Just for a walk.” She reappeared from the back of the house bundled against the cold weather. “Cute ear muffs.” He smiled.

She grinned from ear to ear. “Ya think?”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to buy the paper if you want to save the wasted dollar fifty. I have a subscription.”

“Thanks.”

“Looking for anything special?”

“Just to see what the job market is like.”

“None existent.”

“Tell me about it. Is it because it’s winter?”

“No, it’s a small town. Jobs are given to people that are kin. There is no need to even pretend to advertise them.”

“What about the next town over? The one where you said there were hotels?”

“I’m sure their better off than we are. They are much bigger. Anymore sleepless nights?”

She blushed.

He pulled her into an embrace. She laid her head on his chest as he rubbed his fingers through her hair. “Esther?”

“Yes, dear,” she moaned.

He kissed the top of her head.  

Oscar and Esther’s houses looked like the last two houses on this road that led to where, she had no idea. Instead of picking the direction toward town, the direction she knew. Oscar chose to walk in the direction Esther had no clue where it went. They had walked for about five minutes before Oscar spoke.

“You asked me something the other day that I wasn’t prepared to talk about.”

“You don’t have to appease me.”

He stopped, making eye contact with her. “I’ve never really talked to anyone about all of this. I have talked to professionals about a great many things but I have never told the whole truth.” He held her face in his hands. Hands with NO gloves. “I feel things with you that I’ve never felt. And, I feel like you understand more than anyone what this feels like.” They started walking again. “I think I told you that my dad was older than my mom?”

“Yes you did.”

“The house that I live in was my aunt and uncle’s. My dad’s baby sister. Dad lived to be 94 but his sister only lived to be 80. I’m telling you this as a back story for a reason.”

“Okay.”

He reached out for Esther’s hand. She accepted it and they continued walking. “You asked me what happened to me ten years ago and when you did, I couldn’t answer you. I know that I miss my dad but until that night I never really made the connection. I never really knew just how bad it had affected me. Mom fawned over Otis and dad me. Well, the latter half of his life. My relationship with mom, as you know, is a mess.” He stopped again. “It isn’t wrong of me to want a relationship with my mother?”

“No, it isn’t. It’s natural.”

“Ever since I’ve been out of college, I’ve been a caregiver in one respect or another. Then when there was no one to care for, I have drown myself in my work, teaching is my life. There’s work and there’s work.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Please.” They had turned down a road she guessed, it was covered with snow, it could have been a road. They were going deeper and deeper into the woods.

“Does your mother harbor animosity toward you because you look so much like your dad?”

“I’m not sure. I do know that she hates me.”

“How can you be so sure it’s hate? I mean that’s a pretty strong word.”

“You’ve seen how she acts toward me. What do you think?”

Winter Season

Winter Season

Demons in our dreams

When Oscar got home, the first thing he did was call Esther. Her voice was groggy as if he had woken her up. “I’m sorry, were you napping’?”

She yawned, “it’s okay. I need to get up anyway.”

“Didn’t sleep good last night?”

“Didn’t sleep at all.”

“Come over. We’ll whip up something for dinner.”

She did.

The next night when Oscar got home it was late. He did send her a text message. He wanted to see Esther but all he could really do was stand in the shower and let the water beat him to death and went to bed.

On the third evening, he called but she didn’t answer. He sent her a text, again she didn’t answer. He ate at some left overs.

At midnight, he got up to get some water noticing that her living room light was on. He sent her another text message, ‘What’s wrong?

‘Just got your other message too. Sorry. I can’t sleep.

‘Is that what’s been going on?

‘Yeah. I’m a bear to be around. I can’t stand myself. I just want to go to sleep.

‘I’m coming over.

‘No, you have to work tomorrow. That’s not fair’.

He hurriedly put on his coat and went over to her house. She opened the door to him. The first thing he noticed was the big tears streaming down her face. He hugged her up. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“That’s just it,” she snubbed. “I toss and I turn. When I close my eyes, I see things that aren’t there. I know they aren’t there but I can’t stop them.”

He threw his coat over the arm of the couch. Couch? As he turned off all the lights, she just stood there watching him. She didn’t have the energy to put up any kind of struggle. Her body and mind were just so tired. Three days with as many hours sleep was taking its toll. He held her face in his hands. She just looked at him with big sad blue eyes as more tears ran down her face. He took her hand leading her to bed, wrapping her up in his arms and legs. Her back was to his chest.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” she whispered. But soon broke into sobs.

She was breaking his heart. “Please don’t cry.”

“I,” she choked, “can’t.”

He held her even tighter. At some point she rolled over in his arms, waking him briefly. He kissed her forehead in that moment. He could so get used to this. Whatever was bothering her, he wished nothing more than for it to disappear. But on the other hand, right here is where he wanted to be.

He was able to get up without waking her. She looked so peaceful lying on the bed. He watched her as long as time would allow him. Then he knew he had to get ready for work.

As he collected his coat; yes, there was now a couch in her living room. How did she get it in by herself? Why did she get it in by herself? A sudden urge struck him and he laid down. He wasn’t able to stretch his full frame out on the couch. He could set up with his legs extended or he could curl up. As he laid there for a brief moment; he felt it again, right here is where he wanted to be.

She woke to a note on her pillow. Ess, I will call you as I get ready to leave. You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you. Please, don’t do this again. I know we all have sleepless nights. But after the second night tell me. Please.

O

Winter Season

Why I Write

You write.

You share.

But you’re not making any money.

~

You write.

You share.

It helps heal old wounds.

~

You write.

You share.

It cleanses the soul.

~

You write.

You share.

Someone likes your work?

~

You write.

You share.

It lightens your heart.

~

You write.

You share.

Can someone else relate?

~

You write.

You share.

Get it out.

~

Celebrate.

I write.

I share.

~

Today, I’m lighter than I was yesterday.

I write.

I share.

“Comparing yourself to others is the biggest killer of happiness.” Alux.com

How about a state?

What cities do you want to visit?

Growing up I developed a love of Marty Robins. He could tell a story through song like few people could. One of his songs ‘El Paso’; had me dreaming about someday visiting.

I would love to go to Texas. Land of horses, cowboys and now rockets. What more could you ask for?

All I have managed to see of Texas at this point in my life is the Dallas airport. 30 minutes to get from point A to point B was very intimidating for this small town country girl.

If I get to go to Texas; and if I get to see a rocket launch, think I’d be able to ……

Ready! Set! Fall!

Winter Season

Encounter with mom:

Esther woke to realize that she had fallen asleep on his couch. She thought in his arms but he wasn’t with her. She immediately became alert when she heard him heave. He was on the kitchen floor on his hands and knees. She was reminded of a cat trying to dislodge a hairball.

He thought he was trying to brush her away. But as she wrapped her warm arms around him, he welcomed her touch. So soft. He thought. She put her right hand over his racing heart and her left arm around his waist pulling him up to where his head was laying on her shoulder. The beating of her heart was calm and strong.

His concealed moans and gags became sputtering sounds. She could feel his stomach spasm under her arm. One great gag escaped his body. He felt as if he could fly out of her embrace but she pulled up her left knee shielding him from the floor.

What thoughts of embarrassment rolled through his head? She would surely walk away from him now that she had seen him at his weakest point. He flopped his head back on her chest where he could hear her heart. It had quickened slightly.

She kissed his head as she held him. He laced his fingers through hers. God, what would he have done had she not been with him?

His chest burned as he tried to breathe. Each breath seemed to contain a gag as a taunt. Taunts from his mother and brother: thoughts of masturbation, not being a father, failing as a man, not being stronger than this, not being a good Christian, would she be disgusted with him after this and never want to be in his presents again? Before long, tears rolled down his face. Why couldn’t he be more like Chet? A man’s man: strong, confident, not sick all the time.

She felt his tears on her hand. Her voice was calm when she spoke, “Oscar it’s going to be okay.”

He couldn’t reply.

She freed her left hand to caress his face. His fingers were still laced through the fingers on her other hand. He squeezed.

“Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” She could feel him trying. “It’s okay. Take your time.” She kissed his head again. “It’s okay.”

When Oscar woke up, he was laying in the kitchen floor. Esther had him wrapped up in her arms and legs, holding him the way he had held her. His head hurt, his chest burnt only when he took a deep breath, and his stomach ached. He rolled over to face her, kissing her on the nose as he laid his forehead against hers.

She rubbed his cheek as he pressed into her touch.

“Thank you,” he croaked.

“You’re welcome.”

“Esther, I….” She put her finger gently over his lips.

“You don’t have to say a word.”

Part of him was grateful. But he felt a need to explain what had happened. She had said not a word. Did she mean it? Was she really never going to bring up how weak he was?

Winter Season

Winter Season

That kiss

It was almost midnight before they stopped and took a shower, Oscar laid on the couch. He opened his arms for her. She smiled at him, “no.”

It broke his heart. ‘No’. But she was smiling, he told himself.

“Lay on the other side.” He did as she had asked and changed his position on the couch. Then she slid into him. “That’s better. I can hear your heart beat stronger from this side.” She snuggled in closer.

“Would you like to go to church with me Sunday? The preacher hasn’t called it off yet”

“I don’t think I ever asked; where do you go?”

“Corner Baptist.”

That warmth he felt when she was around grew stronger. His mother only sucked it away for a little while. Could it be that Esther was stronger than his mother? That the feelings he was developing for her could heal him? No, she couldn’t heal him. That was too much to lay at someone’s door. She could help him but it was up to him to heal himself.

“Please don’t be mad at Chet.”

“I’m never mad at him for very long.”

“Or me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“That exchange with your mother.”

“Sweetheart, no way.”

She smiled to herself, he called her sweetheart.

He thought he concealed a moan as the tugging in his groin got stronger and he shifted under her. He felt her raise up slightly. When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him. With his free hand, he stroked her face, “what?”

She placed a soft delicate kiss on his lips. His whole body was a live wire of erotic nerves. She put her hand at the back of his head and guided it toward her, only stopping when they were nose to nose. He freed his other hand and slowly directed it up her back under her shirt. He stopped just short of where she needed him too. She drew her breath through her teeth. Oscar reached up to kiss her. He tried to pour all of the emotions he felt into a single kiss.

The kiss was breath taking. Esther felt his desperate passion, his need, his hunger, the pounding of his heart against her lips. He explored the depths of his desire with a kiss. She allowed him at first, and then answered with her own desires. She came up for air panting, “another kiss like that and I could become the whore of Babylon.” She placed one hand on either side of his head and stared at his parted lips. She met him with another soft kiss. He took his hands down her back to the ample cheeks of her butt and pushed her into his body. She could feel one measure of a man.

He squeezed her butt several times before pushing her into him harder still. “We both need a cold shower.” She hissed.

“No,” he whispered. “Let’s just lay here.” He kissed her again, that same desperate passionate need. She was about to fly apart.

“O,” she whimpered.

“Yes.”

She cuddled into her favorite spot, in the bend of his arm, with her head on his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat.

Their cuddle session was interrupted by his phone. When he hung up, he held Esther closer, “no church Sunday.”

“I was getting ready to ask, ‘who calls at one o’clock in the morning?”

“Our preacher has interesting habits.”

Winter Season