Re-Gifting from the Ultimate Giver

Acts 20:35 ~There is more happiness in giving than there is in receiving~ This is true unless the giver is the Lord himself whom we can't out give. This story would have remained in total anonymity if not for the circumstances of this week. I was literally God smacked this week by what I thought was total compliance to his word. It just amazes me sometimes that I can feel that I know, that I know, that I know...for certainty ANYTHING!
My sister and I were having a phone conversation around the first week of December. We talked of our longing to do something for someone in the spirit of giving for Christmas. I prayed for guidance to determine a benefactor for a small contribution to a family in our community. I purchased a Christmas Card, signed it with a blessing of Peace and Joy, placed some cash inside and simply signed it neighbor. I called the HOA office of the community and stated that I thought they may know more of who could use the gift better than anyone else and asked if they would give it to anyone in the community they felt had a need. I never told anyone, except my sister. Matthew 6 vs 3. ~But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth~ Anonymity coupled with forgetfulness. One of my finest traits these days. I did just that. Forgot about it and didn't give it a second thought.
My sister and I talked again and she tells me that she and other employees at her hospital office had be-friended a homeless man. They decided this would be their recipient in the spirit of Christmas giving. They bought a new coat, a book bag, toiletries, blankets, wallet and food coupons..and more. In their excitement they gave it to him a couple of weeks before Christmas. The staff gave him his presents and he was overwhelmed with gratitude and the givers heart's are warmed with the meaning of the verse that opened this story.
January 3rd. I sit in my car and open mail retrieved from mailbox before heading to work. I open an envelope and pull out a folded over envelope. It was the card I gave the office. A simple typed message read ~We were unable to find a person in need in our community, therefore, returning this to you~ I sat dumbfounded. So many things went through my mind. But the one that bothered me the most, was that I thought our Lord had rejected the gift in his honor. I can't reason it out, the ultimate optimist. I can't find a meaning that makes sense. Again, in total anonymity, I keep this to myself. It is about to absorb me though. I sit at the computer and nurse the keys...Could I? Should I ask for help in this? I type a letter to my pastor. I am hating this, because I don't want him to think that I need affirmation. But, still no answer from God and I continue typing. I hear a small click click noise and don't think anything of it. I draw a breath and click send. Window's 7 working signal, hmmmm...wonder what's up? Page comes up that ATT&T Broadband is experiencing technical difficulties. "You may try to re-boot your computer" it says. I absentmindedly do so and didn't save the letter. Frustrated, I decide not to tie myself emotionally to the issue anymore today.
I share the letter and card with Don later in the week. I explain my worst case scenario. God rejected my gift. He shared some wonderful insights with me about my adherence to the total anonymity scripture. Once again back into the swing of a busy week. I put the matter aside once again.
This morning, finally able to catch up a bit, I call my sister. We small talk for a bit and I decide to tell her about the rejected gift. After hearing me out, she tells me that she had dealt with a similar issue this week. She says "You know the homeless man that we gave the coat and gifts too?" "Yes" I reply. "He died" she says. My gut wrenched. She said that unbelievably, here in SC, he died of hypothermia. He told her previously that he tried to make it to the shelter on cold nights before the shut off time. Who is to know if he didn't make it on time? She also had told me that he was articulate and intelligent and spoke often of his blessings, even in his dire circumstances. Somehow the word came back to the office that had befriended him that he had died. Also, that he had a large family that cared for him. He had been a minister, but suffered with breakdowns before he left for the streets. They had tried to retrieve him, but he continued to leave. My sister said she and her co-workers were trying to deal with the loss, with the questions of how their gifts had not sustained his life...etc. She told her co-workers that maybe he hadn't crossed their paths for their help. Maybe God had placed him there to bless THEM.
The reality of the parallel situations didn't hit me until about one hour later. He died the same day my return gift was postmarked. My sister was right in telling them that their gifts weren't rejected. My gift wasn't rejected either. The plans, the outcomes are ALL his, none of them are ours. Sometimes our father just wants to see if we have a willing heart. The big lesson he taught me? He is the King of Anonymity, it is his creation. He has the choice to keep the presents unopened until he reveals them to us, or re-gift them. And I am the happy recipient of the re-gift and apparently, the needy person in my community.

Is That A Noodle In Your Eye? Renae Brabham

Cooking dinner at 5:30 in the morning. Spaghetti. Looked at my calendar. Almost the end of the year. I stir my pot of sauce and bend to inhale the aromas of the spices I added. I did a quick year in review while I put a pot of water on to boil for pasta. I noted that I had eluded the usual barrage of dangerous or just plain weird experiences this year and landed here in January, virtually unscathed. I chastise my mind for thinking it with two whole days left before the year is over.
The year was pretty normal. Define normal? Better to suffice it to say there have been over 50 of them that haven't been. I did a little re-wind of 2010. Early morning walks on IOP. Quiet days on Pitt Bridge with Don, a few crab pots and lines in water. Spending time with my brother and family at the same crab hole. A day of food and fun and catching up with all the brothers and sister at Mom and Dads. Ya Ya days on Wadmallaw Island, trespassing and giggling our way through a beautiful Carolina Saturday. Amos Lee concert. See Wee Shell Ring with a friend, standing on a boardwalk at the edge of the world holding our hands out to the sky for Dragonflies to land on us. Hi-jacking a golf cart left unnatended at hospital with a friend, flying full throttle around the hospital, gunning it over speed bumps. A day trekking it through past and present in Awendaw and McClellanville with Suzannah Miles. Beach day with daughter and son and grandbabies. Downtown with Don at the Dock Street Theatre watching ~A Christmas Carol~ . Holiday food and friends and fun for Christmas. Chinese restaurant and movie day on Christmas. Good stuff.
No noteworthy weird happenstances. Water's boiling and I pull out the box of Angel Hair Pasta. I break the pasta to throw in pot. Boing...a piece of pasta hits my eye. No...it's in my eye. Now it is somewhere at the top of my eye, near my third eye. Well, if it stays up there it may not scratch my cornea and cause me to go blind. Maybe I need to do the eye rinse. Oh, that's right, I don't have one of those eye wash cups. There, a brandy snifter. Now getting your eye to drink water is comparable to getting your baby in the high chair to open his mouth for that spoon of peas that he hates. I put the glass up to my eye. Involuntary shutters. Nope, wont open. Now I am talking to my eyeballs. Come on now, I say as I pull down my lower lid to put the glass up to it again. I pour fast, eye shuts faster. Water runs down my face. Okie Dokie, this isn't going to work.
Should I google ~What happens to spaghetti noodles if they get stuck in your eyeball?~ Decide against googling. Opt for the scientific approach to problem. Ok...my body temp is 98 degrees. Not really warm enough to cook the pasta shard. I pull out a petri dish (custard bowl) and put a piece of pasta in the dish and cover it with lukewarm water. Ok, when this noodle has become soft, then maybe the one in my eye will do the same. I come back in 30 minutes to test the noodle, gummy but firm. One hour, pliable but still not al dente'.
I had this second of panic at 1 1/2 hours when I realize that I may be at work when this becomes solvent. I picture myself talking to a customer and they look at me in horror as a noodle starts working it's way out of my eyeball. Well, it's been 3 hours and the noodle is limp. No sign of it yet. But I can always use another noodle upstairs. Cooking dinner at 5:30 in the morning. Spagetti. Looked at my calendar. Almost the end of the year. I stir my pot of sauce and bend to inhale the aromas of the spices I added. I did a quick year in review while I put a pot of water on to boil for pasta. I noted that I had eluded the usual borrage of dangerous or just plain weird experiences this year and landed here in January, virtually unscathed. I chasitise my mind for thinking it with two whole days left before the year is over.
The year was pretty normal. Define normal? Better to suffice it to say there have been over 50 of them that haven't been. I did a little re-wind of 2010. Early morning walks on IOP. Quiet days on Pitt Bridge with Don, a few crab pots and lines in water. Spending time with my brother and family at the same crab hole. A day of food and fun and catching up with all the brothers and sister at Mom and Dads. Ya Ya days on Wadmallaw Island, trespassing and giggling our way through a beautiful Carolina Saturday. Amos Lee concert. See Wee Shell Ring with a friend, standing on a boardwalk at the edge of the world holding our hands out to the sky for Dragonflies to land on us. Hi-jacking a golf cart left unnatended at hospital with a friend, flying full throttle around the hospital, gunning it over speed bumps. A day trekking it through past and present in Awendaw and McClellanville with Suzannah Miles. Beach day with daughter and son and grandbabies. Downtown with Don at the Dock Street Theatre watching ~A Christmas Carol~ . Holiday food and friends and fun for Christmas. Chinese restaurant and movie day on Christmas. Good stuff.
No noteworthy weird happenstances. Water's boiling and I pull out the box of Angel Hair Pasta. I break the pasta to throw in pot. Boing...a piece of pasta hits my eye. No...it's in my eye. Now it is somewhere at the top of my eye, near my third eye. Well, if it stays up there it may not scratch my cornea and cause me to go blind. Maybe I need to do the eye rinse. Oh, that's right, I don't have one of those eye wash cups. There, a brandy snifter. Now getting your eye to drink water is comparable to getting your baby in the high chair to open his mouth for that spoon of peas that he hates. I put the glass up to my eye. Involuntary shutters. Nope, wont open. Now I am talking to my eyeballs. Come on now, I say as I pull down my lower lid to put the glass up to it again. I pour fast, eye shuts faster. Water runs down my face. Okie Dokie, this isn't going to work.
Should I google ~What happens to spagetti noodles if they get stuck in your eyeball?~ Decide against googling. Opt for the scientific approach to problem. Ok...my body temp is 98 degrees. Not really warm enough to cook the pasta shard. I pull out a petri dish (custard bowl) and put a piece of pasta in the dish and cover it with lukewarm water. Ok, when this noodle has become soft, then maybe the one in my eye will do the same. I come back in 30 minutes to test the noodle, gummy but firm. One hour, pliable but still not al dente'.
I had this second of panic at 1 1/2 hours when I realize that I may be at work when this becomes solvent. I picture myself talking to a customer and they look at me in horror as a noodle starts working it's way out of my eyeball. Well, it's been 3 hours and the noodle is limp. No sign of it yet. But I can always use another noodle upstairs. Pin It

Totally Useless Information

Bat's always turn left when exiting a cave

Frankincense & Myrrh

Frankincense and Myrrh
R. Brabham

I purchased a few droppers of Frankincense last year to make my Christmas soap. It is costly and still as precious today as it was thousands of years ago when it was considered worthy only to the most elite, an iconic symbol of wealth, traded over thousands of miles. Can you just imagine frankincense filled urns in the cooled stone treasury rooms of Solomon's castle? I used all of the contents in the soap I made,but couldn't make myself part with the bottle. I pull the cork stopper out and take a whiff occasionally. It transports to a time that I have only read of. The crispness in the air this morning makes me think of pulling out supplies to get ready for my annual pleasure of making soap. I remember the first time I made the Christmas soap and I was excited to go purchase the first bottle of Frankincense for the blend. I browsed through an authentic herb shop that resembled an old scientific research lab. Shelves are lined with glass apothecary jars filled with oils and dried herbs or (urps) as my grand- babies like to call them. I pulled down the dark brown bottle of Frankincense and pulled the cork,fully expecting a aroma so sweet it would transcend me. I sniffed strongly and jerked away. It was heady, but not in the floral noted sweetness imagined. I was surprised, but went back for a softer pass under my nose. It has a beckoning note to it. One that keeps drawing you back. The oil was dispensed by the ounce, so I brought the large bottle to the clerk and told her that I wanted 4 ounces. When she rang up the oil I was startled, she laughed when she saw my face. I had not looked at the price on the bottle. It was somewhere around 32 dollars and ounce and rang up for about $120.00. She understandably felt my pain and poured the Frankincense back in the jar except for about 2 dropperfuls in a 1 ounce jar. She explained that the undertones were heady and are usually mixed with other scents. I had a wide range of other essential oils at home and decided to experiment with the Christmas scent.
Back to this morning. Pulling the stopper out of the bottle again, I am still perplexed. Why was this one of the most revered oils? A couple of thousand years ago, Magi, highly intelligent men gathered their gifts for the king and stuffed their camel sacks. Frankincense and Myrrh? The Frankincense smelled wonderful in my soap, but it was mixed with other sweet oils to produce a aroma that was pleasing. By itself, it was pungent. There were thousands of other oils as precious that the Magi could have chosen. Google gave me the 1 million answers to it's healing properties and uses. But one stood out. It is one I choose to believe would make it a special gift for the baby Jesus.  As sure as the Magi knew that he would be born on this night and where, they knew the future of our Savior. He was to die. This is a description of how the oil is obtained.. The Frankincense tree originates from the Middle East and is small with abundant pinnacle leaves. The flowers are white or pale pink. Frankincense resin begins as a milky-white sticky liquid that flows from the trunk of the tree when it's cut, healing the wound in the tree. The oil is luxuriant and has a rich woody, earthy scent with a deeply mysterious nuance. I can't help but think of the aroma of Jesus on his believers. Historically, Frankincense resin, or teardrops as they were called, were burned over coals which made the aroma sweeter. Couldn’t this symbolize a person's heart?  Scourged in the refiners pot, it becomes an aroma that is pleasant to the Lord.

Myrrh, like Frankincense, is produced by the tree as a reaction to a purposeful wound through the bark and into the sapwood. The trees are bled in this way on a regular basis. The Greeks began using myrrh to replace living sacrifices in the 3rd century AD. Again, I think of the Magi...Baby Jesus was born to bear the iniquities of our sins. Banishing the Law and replacing it with Grace.
Gold...The Magi brought the most precious of metals on camels backs in unison with the oils above. Psalms 19 vs 10 ~The words of God are more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold, sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb." 

This is more precious than any other thing. More to be desired than the best gold, anything the world has to offer is the idea here. It is more precious than the best commodity the world has to offer. It is sweeter than the sweetest thing that life can bring. It is the best. That is his gift to us as well.
When we pick out a gift for the ones we love. We try to find something that would suit the wants and needs and wishes of the recipient. Knowing from prophesy that this sweet baby would accept no gift that he couldn't give away. We could believe that they gave him the gifts that he would give us.

Becca's Christmas Cards

Becca's? Christmas Cards A True Blessing For Me
Renae Brabham


I have been sorrowed this morning that I could not remember two things about this story that I thought were important. However, God has chosen not to re-reveal them to my memory and his way is better than mine. I had this true story saved on a computer that crashed recently. The information was not retrievable on it either. Go figure.

Christmas Season 2008. This year had been the worst year for our business economically since we started. I was cutting corners every way that I knew how. If it wasn't absolutely necessary, it wasn't coming into the house. It was a Saturday morning. Crisp and cool, a perfect day to pull out those holiday scarves and sweaters. It was a grocery shopping and errand day. I knew that the list I had in front of me didn't call for any celebratory clothing. Just the basics here. Except for the Christmas Cards. I normally buy these at Wal Mart or Sams anyway, but I enjoy looking for the right cards. Well, I knew the good cards were going to be over my budget, even at Wal Mart this year. But, I was still going to find something to send out and that was all that mattered.

I was held up it seemed all morning. A delay in walking out the door everywhere I turned. I was to the point of almost deciding to do this another day. I finally made it into car with my list. I was enjoying the ride. Christmas music playing, I was singing along. I drove right past Wal Mart,hmmmm. A thought popped into my head. Let's go to Hallmark and get our Christmas cards. Where in the world did that come from I thought. Drove past Sam's Club too,hmmmm. Another thought, well it won't hurt to look at the pretty cards. Pulled up to Hallmark's. I go into the store that is filled with women in Christmas sweaters and hats and scarves, Christmas music playing. Well this is festive, I thought. The boxed card aisle is full of people and cards. I am looking at the cards and flipping them over to gasp at the prices. Putting them back on the shelf with a nod of indifference that I hoped was telling others that it wasn't the price, but the wrong verse that made me put it back.

I noticed a lady at the end of the aisle fumbling with one hand to turn over a box and look at the verse. Others were standing by her and she continued box after box. I had worked my way closer to her. She was trying to retrieve one in the back and struggling as she appeared to have use of only one arm. I reached down and handed it to her. The next 15 minutes or so started with the illumination of her joyful face. I can't even type this a year later without getting emotional. She absolutely radiated joy. She was as colorful as any character in a Dr. Seuss book. Lime green and yellow scarf, a multi colored sweater hat, bright coat, bell earrings. She thanked me and told me still smiling that she had lost the use of her arm due to a brain tumor. I asked her if there was anything I could help her look for. She told me that she was looking for the most beautiful cards she could find with a Christian verse about joy. She wanted them to have Gold on them though and not the silver that was so popular last year. I plowed through them as we talked. She told me that she didn't have much money this year, but it was the best Christmas season she has ever had and wanted to find the best cards that she could to give to the special people in her life. She was still positively glowing. She told me that she had found two of the greatest loves of her life that year. Jesus and a man that loved her dearly. She told me she woke up with a smile every single morning. She had been married to a abusive man that didn't love her for years but was devastated when he walked out on her. She had stuck with him and now he was leaving. She said it was at this time she started having headaches. She passed them off as stress for a long time and then her vision was suffering. Test concluded she had a very large tumor on her brain. They performed surgery and she lost some vision in one eye and the use of her left arm. I told her how wonderful it was that they were able to get it out. We continued talking as she told me of her new loves. She said that God knew what she needed in her life and he sent this wonderful man to her. She said she can see the love in his eyes every time he looks at her. By this time, all of the music and colorful sweaters and business of the holiday crowd subsided into the past. I was enamored by her and there wasn't another soul in this busy store. She talked of her kids and then we got to our plans for Christmas. I told her mine and she told me hers. Same exuberance as before, no change in mood or expression. She says "I may be with Jesus, the tumor has returned and is inoperable." My eyes filled with tears and she stopped me and took me, a complete stranger by the shoulders in this store and turned me to her and said. "Don't be upset, I am the happiest I have ever been in my life and I will be happier yet when I am gone." She turned back to the cards and again said that she just wanted to find the best Christmas Cards that she could for those people so dear to her.

We found those cards. They WERE the most beautiful cards. There were 3 boxes. She said she only needed two. I went to put the other box back, couldn't do it. I too had some special people to share with. We hugged, both knowing that we would never see each other again. But, Becca left me with these true gifts of Christmas last year. God's love will sustain. Be happy with what you have. Share yourself with others. Love each other. I adjusted the grocery list for that box of cards. There were two things I told you at the beginning of the story that I couldn't remember this morning. I beat myself up over this all morning. I couldn't remember her name, I couldn't remember the cards! I know
now that it doesn't matter. She is god and the message is his love. Every Christmas since I met Becca that Saturday morning, I have thanked God for that blessing. I don't ever want to forget her spirit, her thankfulness and her joy at Christmas.
I have shared this story for three years now. My heart is full every year when I think of her. This year, I realized that we can do more with the story than share. This beautiful stranger lifted my heart that day with her Christmas Card Blessing. I hope the recipients of those special cards felt the love she was conveying to them through it. There is someone in our very community right now who could use a blessing. If you would like to share a blessing with a neighbor in need. Please drop a card in this box. You can remain anonymous, or not. You can place a monetary gift or not. I don't have much money, but I believe with all my heart that the little blessing that all of us can do will be sufficient for the needs of that person. Merry Christmas!!

The French Grinch

The French Grinch,transplanted from Buffalo, NY by almighty God, taught me a lot

about unselfish giving in an unorthodox way. I met him when I moved to NC. I walked up to his restaurant as he was awkwardly sliding down the roof onto a ladder. There were no cars in the parking lot and it was midday. I wait at the bottom of the roof for him, thinking that he must be coming down to help me. "Can I help you?" he ask. "I was just coming to get an application. " I answer. "Well, I don't have them out here, go in and ask Kathy." he says as he walks off, grumbling at my obvious stupidity that he would have an application outside. I fill out the application, he hires me and thus started a friendship that has lasted for 25 years.

Fair, honest, funny the year round. Then comes November. Around Thanksgiving, he begins to turn green. Every day following Thanksgiving started with ~You better don't do a thing for me this Christmas or I'll....~ The threats changed in intensity the closer we got to the Christmas party. We all loved him dearly, but he wouldn't let us do a single thing for him. Ever!

The first couple of years for Christmas, he cooked a nice dinner for us at the restaurant. We brought our spouses and enjoyed time with co-workers. He would bring out the food, speak to everyone, wish them a Merry Christmas and then disappear into the kitchen, refusing help with dishes. If too many people came back to the kitchen to offer, he would holler "This is the last time I am throwing this damn Christmas party!" and we would all scurry back into the dining area.

The next Christmas, we all chipped in to purchase a nice big fruit basket. We delivered it to his home. Bad move. When we arrived at the Christmas party, he was banging things around loudly in the kitchen. We could hear him chopping ferociously on his butcher block. He served our wonderful meal and then he came out with our gifts. He passed out the Budweiser collectible porcelain steins.Smug satisfaction curled his lips into the grinch smile as we stuck our hands in to retrieve the Christmas bonus envelopes. Our hands jerked out of the steins, surprised to find the wet chopped fruit that had been delivered to his home. He obviously ran out of fruit to fill them all and chopped potatoes to add volume.

The restaurant grew in popularity and became the Mecca for locals 3 counties wide. The Christmas party's outgrew the dining area. He would reserve dining rooms at nice restaurants around town. As the meal commenced you could see his joy tend to turn to unrest. He didn't want a bunch of employees to start thanking him. After he knew everyone had eaten and consumed a sufficient amount of beverage, he would pay the bill and exit.

The Christmas gatherings grew fewer,but the group of people who have been with him for years have gathered every December since at a restaurant to celebrate our friendship. Each year as we pull in and give hugs with arms full of goody baskets, he threatens "There better not be a thing in there for me" We all promise there isn't. One year my friend gets back to the office and puts some of the candy we shared in a gift bag on his desk. She heard him minutes later "Who gave me this?" he yells.

I watch him. He takes care of the people around him. They are loyal to him. He always has a less fortunate person in his life. He seeks and finds people in need and does for them. Feeds them, takes them to appointments, befriends them. We have long since given up on giving him a card or gift for any occasion. One year, I popped in at the restaurant on a day that no one was supposed to be at work. There was a truck filled with bicycles at the back door. He saw my look of surprise but gave me the look of silence or else. Another year, a freezer full of turkeys, Meals on Wheels, Helping people with learning disabilities....These are just the few that I know by chance. The years rolled by as I watched him affect the lives of those around him humbly. I saw right through the French Grinch's green hairy fur. Beneath all the fur was a slobbery, wet, love dripping heart.

He taught me the true meaning of these verses. In Matthew 6:1-4 ( NIV version ) "Be careful not to do your "acts of righteousness" before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, but to be honored by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you."

I was finally able to give him a gift he would accept. But, I can't tell now...Can I?????

Mexican Bandaid's

Every time I look at a bottle of my favorite perfume it takes me back to this crazy day.I am going to one of my granddaughter's birthday parties. I realize the gas hand is on empty a few miles before I get there. I pull into a gas station. One of those that is half convenient store/half fried chicken and pizza eatery. Getting out of the car, my pocket book falls off of shoulder onto ground while I fumble with the keys to lock the doors. Pick the pocketbook up, pump the gas and head into store to pay. I shove my hand into my pocketbook and jerk back. My cylindrical bottle of Eden ~Ralph Lauren~ has broken in the fall and sliced a big chunk out of my finger. I don't do well with blood. Well, that's an understatement. I pass out usually. I can keep from passing out if I get it covered immediately. I get to the counter to pay for the gas with the intention of going to ladies restroom to find some paper towels to cover it. Well, the world starts spinning as the blood is running down my hand now into a little puddle on counter. I begin to wobble a bit and the clerk notices and tells the Mexican cook in the station nearby to run go get me a band-aid. He doesn't seem to understand her and she tells him in some type of broken english/spanish that I am bleeding. I close my eyes and hold the counter to keep from falling. He returns, I keep my eyes closed as he turns me to him and starts wrapping. I leave the store a little shaken, but better. Climbing into car I put my hands on the wheel and glance at the unusual band-aid. I have to stop the car. I laughed so hard that I couldn't pull out of the drive for 3 or 4 minutes. The nice Mexican man had wrapped my finger with a Kotex.