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I had a dream, Joseph. I don’t understand it, not really, but I think it was about a birthday celebration for our Son. I think that’s what it was all about. The people had been preparing for it about six weeks. They had decorated the house and bought new clothes. They’d gone shopping many times and bought elaborate gifts. It was peculiar, though, because the presents weren’t for Jesus. They wrapped them in beautiful paper and tied them with lovely bows and stacked them under a tree. Yes, a tree, Joseph, right in their house. They’d decorated the tree also. The branches were full of glowing balls and sparkling ornaments. There was a figure on the top of the tree. It looked like an angel might look. Oh, it was beautiful. Everyone was laughing and happy. They were all excited about the gifts. They gave the gifts to each other, Joseph, not to our Son. I don’t think they even knew Him. They never mentioned His name. Doesn’t it seem odd for people to go to all that trouble to celebrate someone’s birthday if they don’t know Him? I had the strangest feeling that if our Son had gone to this celebration He would have been intruding. Everything was so beautiful, Joseph, and everyone was so happy, but it made me want to cry. How sad for Jesus – not to be wanted at His own birthday party. I’m glad it was only a dream. How terrible if it had been real.
A Prelude from the Andy Williams Christmas Album
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Millions of people celebrate the birth of the Christ child on December 25th and even those who don’t celebrate Him all agree that He has a tremendous impact on the whole world. Jim Bishop wrote in his column one Christmas morning something that I think puts everything in its proper perspective.
“There was a Man born of Jewish parents in an obscure village. He grew up in another obscure village. He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty. And then for three years He was an itinerant Preacher.
He never wrote a book.
He never held office.
He never owned a home.
He never had a family.
He never went to college.
He never put His foot inside a big city.
He never traveled 200 miles from the place from where He was born.
He never did any of the things that usually accompany greatness.
While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against Him. His friends ran away from Him. He was turned over to His enemies, and went through the mockery of a trial. His executioners gambled for the only piece of property He had – His coat.
When He was dead, He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave.
All the Armies that have ever marched, all the Navies that were ever built, all the Parliaments that ever sat, all the Kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon the earth as this one solitary man.”