Christmas Traditions

/ Linda DeLay Wallace / 2 Comments

When I was growing up during the Christmas holiday my mom would get together with my aunts and they would make candy all day long. They made divinity, fudge, chocolate peanut butter balls, peanut brittle–and the list went on! But another of our holiday traditions was opening one present on Christmas Eve. I remember carefully trying to figure out which present would be THE one that would have the best gift in it. Inevitably, I would choose the one with socks!

After I was grown, my mother started a new tradition. She collected Department 56 villages. When I say, she collected villages, I mean she had an entire room devoted to them. One of her friends wired the lights up so that all she needed to do was hit the remote for the village to come to life. Setting the village up and taking it down each year got to be such a huge chore, that she decided to leave the room up year round!

My children loved seeing the village and for every Christmas my mom received multiple new pieces as gifts. Her Department 56 club would tour her house for Christmas. Every year she hosted an open house for all the family and friends. When I would bring friends home for Christmas, they would marvel at how much decorating and baking she had done. Quite frankly, I miss my mom the most at Christmas time because she would go all out and decorate her house to the max for Christmas. Honestly, I do not know how old she was when she finally let someone else take over the job of putting up the outdoor lights–but it was well past the time she should be climbing a ladder.

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Screaming Fits

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My friend and I went shopping and I purchased new hangers for my closet. I absolutely love these hangers because a) they all match, and b) the clothing does not seem so crowded together when I use them. We also found a new Christmas store that had absolutely lovely things in it that I can only dream about because they are not in my budget (not to mention I already have WAY too much Christmas stuff!).

After shopping we decided to dine at a Chinese fast food restaurant. We were enjoying a leisurely meal when the door was thrown open and a lady stormed into the restaurant. She threw her hands up in the air like a referee calling a touchdown and began to yell. When I say she began to yell, I mean she was screaming at the top of her lungs at the staff. Things like, “You are fired. You are a lazy bunch of people who are not doing your job! The drive-through is extremely slow and there is no excuse for that.” She was taunting the staff to come over and face her.

photo by bowie15

Initially, I thought maybe it was a store manager who had totally lost control, because she had a red apron on similar to what the workers were wearing. But then I noticed it had a totally different logo. My friend and I assumed she had gone through the drive-through and they were too slow for her. She became inappropriately angry–or dare I even say, full of rage.

As she continued her rant, finally a young man came up to her and politely asked her to leave. She was screaming in his face and at that point he escorted her out the door. She left, but we watched as she continued to pace up and down the sidewalk outside the restaurant.

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A Father’s Arms

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This past weekend I attended a worship night at our church. Of everything we do at church, worship nights are one of my favorite things. I came early so I could sit in a row close to the front and on the outside of the aisle, because of, well, short girl problems. If I am farther in the row and someone tall sits in front of me I may as well have saved myself the time of coming early.

As worship began and we were singing in earnest a father with his son nestled in his arms slipped into the row ahead of me. It was obvious the young boy, who was well past toddlerhood, was tired. I noticed when his eyelids gently shut and he snuggled deeper into his father’s arms. Soon he was sound asleep and even the enthusiastic singing all around him did not wake him up.

I watched as the father continued to hold his child tightly while he was singing praises to God. He held him during our entire worship service–sometimes when he was standing, and sometimes when he was sitting. But through it all he continued to lovingly hold him in his arms.

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Siblings Weekend

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This past weekend my siblings and I rented a house in Branson, Missouri for a siblings weekend. This is our second gathering since Covid travel restrictions have lifted. While we were missing one sister, and a couple of the husbands, the rest of us had a lovely, relaxing (except for the long-distance drives for some of them) weekend.

Three of the siblings made the delicious evening meals and we had chicken picata, grilled hamburgers, and meatloaf. Everyone pitched in together to cook and clean up. But the best part for me was the homemade donuts my sister made–because I sort of begged her to make them. Don’t worry–we had some left to take home with us. We played games, laughed together, talked about old memories, and made new ones. We also did the obligatory silly sibling (and in-law) picture together, as well as a more serious one.

We did not go to any shows, eat meals in a restaurant, or any of the other touristy things I usually do when I am in Branson. We sat on the balcony overlooking Table Rock Lake, and talked and talked and talked. Usually when we get together it is for a special occasion or holiday and it is hard to visit with one another during those times. I know we all appreciated the relaxed pace of the weekend, although my brother was bummed when he could not find his college football games on tv.

One of the things I love about our time together is the fact that each of us has their own distinct personality. To say that we are all strong-willed, is somewhat of an understatement. But despite that, we seem to understand each other and allow for our differences. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and believe no one is aware of them like family! But despite that we seem to still love one another. We can certainly squabble like most siblings do, but beneath it all is an abiding love of family and a respect for who we are.

Photo by Debbie White

We were lucky to have parents who disciplined us, taught us the value of hard work, and most of all, loved us. The dynamics of our family changed after Dad, and then Mom, passed away. We all lead busy lives and are not together as much as we were in the past. We each have our own families that are integral parts of our lives. We are finding that unless we make a deliberate plan to be together, time slips by and suddenly we look up and it has been months since we have seen each other. Our sibling weekend is a commitment that we will always try to make a place in our lives for one another.

I realize that there are some of you out there that have families that are fractured and highly dysfunctional. And in all honesty, my heart aches for those individuals I know who are caught up in the drama that some families can bring. But for me, I realize that my family is where God placed me. They helped shape and mold me and I am grateful for that gift. So here is to many more sibling weekends together as long as God allows!

“You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” –Desmond Tutu

So You Are a Toe

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Several weeks ago I managed to injure my big toe in the klutziest of ways. I was rolling up an area rug to take it out of the house and have it cleaned. Because it was so heavy, I was trying to hold one side with my foot, while still rolling the other side to make it even. The rug rolled back and hit my big toe, with the resulting feeling that it jammed it up into the rest of my foot! Needless to say, I jumped, the rug unrolled, and I had to start the process over again, with my toe throbbing the entire time.

The next morning when I looked at my foot there was a huge bruise from the toe all the way up to the top of my foot. I did not go have it x-rayed, because I have had broken toes before and there is not much they do for them except tape them and sometimes put you in a stiff shoe. However, I saw my rheumatologist for my regular follow-up a day later and she noticed my toe. I told her the whole ridiculous story of how I hurt it, and she insisted I go for an x-ray. I reluctantly went and found to her surprise and my delight that it was not broken. But that toe took forever to heal.

It is a funny thing about the body–every part serves a function. If you are like me you don’t think a lot about your toes, until one of them gets hurt. Then you limp and try to protect it as much as possible.

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Seventy Lessons for 70 years

/ Linda DeLay Wallace / 1 Comment

Today I will have reached another decade. When I was younger, I can remember thinking that 70 was ancient! And here I am. I have learned so much through my years and often think it is such a shame that it takes a lifetime to gain wisdom. If only I had known these things when I was younger. So, I want to share 70 lessons I have learned through the years (in no particular order). Not everything was learned from personal experience . . . well, maybe some of them were.

Find joy in life

1. Despite my brother thinking my mom had a hard time delivering me because I would not put the book away, I really did not come out reading. Learn to read.

Me and my chubby cheeks.

2. People say, “I could just squeeze those cute little cheeks,” DON’T.

3. Spiders are creepy, crawly, things.

4.  Volunteer to catch grasshoppers for your uncles to use as bait for fishing. They may pay you a penny each.

5. Every 5-year-old covers their face for pictures. Just roll with it.

6. See Dick and Jane run really was a thing. Just change the names and ask my siblings what happened when someone yelled, “Snake.”

7. Some people move a lot. Just learn to roll with it.

8. No, butter really does not make a sunburn better. Use sunscreen and avoid skin cancer.

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Arrogance, Pride, and Power

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We have all met them; arrogant Christians who boast about almost anything. They tend to grate on us with their pride, wearing their roles like a shield and making their judgments on the rest of us. I was reading in 1 Corinthians 4 and 5 and it struck me that so much of the church discipline that was needed in the early church had to do with pride and power.

In the New Testament we read of conflicts between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians on what to eat, circumcision, and yes, even if you were baptized in John’s baptism or Christ’s baptism. Ananias and Sapphira allowed their greed to lie to the church and were both struck dead because of it (can you imagine if that happened today?). The Greek speaking Christians complained that the Hebrew speaking believers were discriminating against widows in the daily distribution of food.

We see in Philippians where Euodia and Syntyche had a disagreement that actually made its way to the news Paul received while in prison. He appealed to them to settle their disagreement amicably. He even asks the church to help these two women. The whole book of Galatians relates to refuting the teaching of some of the Jewish Christians. They were trying to bind people up to obeying and following the law in order to earn their salvation. Paul wrote an entire letter that talks about freedom in Christ.

In 1 Corinthians 4:18-20, Paul writes, “Some of you have become arrogant, thinking I will not visit you again. But I will come–and soon–if the Lord lets me, and then I’ll find out whether these arrogant people just give pretentious speeches or whether they really have God’s power. For the Kingdom of God is not just a lot of talk; it is living by God’s power”

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Never Give Up!

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One of my favorite sci-fi comedy shows is Galaxy Quest. The saying: “Never give up! Never surrender!” is used by a tv character who actually ends up with an alien encounter. The aliens believe he is truly his character rather than a has-been actor. Throughout the movie they use the phrase, “Never give up! Never Surrender!” The phrase is pivotal in the final plot line. Buzz Lightyear, one of the beloved characters from the Toy Story series, also uses this term frequently and indeed, he used it before it appeared in Galaxy Quest.

Photo by Milad Fakurian on Unsplash

I had the privilege of speaking at an assistant living facility and spoke about patience and perseverance. Patience or perseverance is mentioned 44 times in the New Testament. Not only is it mentioned in Galatians 5:22-23 where Paul talks about fruit of the Spirit, it is also mentioned in 1 Timothy 6:11-12, and 2 Peter 1:5-8, along with other qualities we need to be cultivating in our lives.

As frequently happens when I speak, the issues I addressed hit me squarely where I am. It is easy to get discouraged and quit. Honestly, there are times when I am trying to work on my book that I am ready to give it all up. This week has been one of them. But I realized as I spoke that maybe this topic was more for me than for the people I spoke to whom I was speaking.

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We Too

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I just finished reading Mary Demuth’s book We Too, to help gather some insight for the fiction book I am writing. In my book the main character was sexually abused by her youth minister when she was in high school. While my book is fiction, the fact is there is more sexual abuse being covered up in the church than one can even imagine. If you happen to be familiar with the work of Julie Roys, Boz Tchividjian, Rachel Denhollander, or Mary DeMuth, you will be given some insights into the need for the church to be transparent about sexual abuse and how it is handled.

Little did I realize that Me Too was more than just a book to help me understand the need for the church to respond in an appropriate way, but it was also a book that was painful to read based on my own personal experience and years of working with women in the church.

In my roles in both youth ministry and women’s ministry I have heard heartbreaking stories of women and children abused by the ones who were supposed to be safe and care for them. From the misuse by fathers and stepfathers, to date rape, to clerical sexual abuse, to stalking, and more, it never seems to stop. Not just women, but men (especially young boys) are the target for increasingly common sexual abuse. We are living in a culture where sin abounds and Satan has a special fondness for sexual abuse. All we need to do is look at the pornography statistics and at the number of trafficked individuals that is on the rise.

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Not Good Enough

/ Linda DeLay Wallace / Leave a comment

I realized that I have not written a blog for a while. In all honesty, I have been in a funk lately and I sometimes wonder why I have started this journey of writing. Do I really have anything to say that my readers have not heard a hundred times before? I frequently ask myself, what am I doing here? Sometimes doubts plague me and Satan shouts at me, “You are not good enough for this.”

Photo by Hello I’m Nik on Unsplash

I am going to be vulnerable here and share my doubts. When I struggle to sit and write another page in my book, I think maybe I am not creative enough and my characters are not real enough and my plot is not developed enough. I am not good enough to do this.

When I write about the hurts that my main character has had in her life, I remember hurts I have had in mine. And I think–I can’t do this God. I cannot revisit the pain that I hid for years. But I cannot reveal my character’s pain without acknowledging my own. And my past sometimes shouts at me that I am flawed and not good enough.

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