Volume 16

December 2017

Issue 12 Page1


Table of Contents:

About this Ministry
   o Planning Team
   o Past Newsletters
   o Dorcas House on
        Facebook
   o Our Church's Web

 

Page 1:
  o
Max Lucado - Excerpt -  "Because of Bethlehem"
    Continued on:
       page 2 and page 5

Page 3:
  o Simply Ordinary
       Janet Eggleston

Page 4:
  o Welcome to my
      Kitchen - Cathy
      Sifuentez
Mini Stuffed Bell Peppers
                and
    Cajun-Seasoned
    Vegetarian Gumbo

Page 6:
  o Passing of Janelle Jackson

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord…
…Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

~~ Luke 2:11 and I John 4:10

Because of Bethlehem Love is Born, Hope is Here
By Max Lucado

I love Christmas. Let the sleigh bells ring. Let the carolers sing. The more Santas the merrier. The more trees the better.
     I love Christmas. The ho ho ho, the rooty toot toot, the thumpety, thump, thump, and the pa rum pa pump um. The “Silent Night” and the sugarplums.
     I don’t complain about the crowded shops. I don’t grumble at the jam-packed grocery store. The flight is full? The restaurant is packed? Well, it’s Christmas.
     And I love Christmas.
     Bring on Scrooge, Cousin Eddie, and the “official Red Ryder, carbine-action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle.” “You’ll shoot your eye out!”
     The tinsel and the clatter and waking up “to see what was the matter.” Bing and his tunes. Macy’s balloons. Mistletoe kisses, Santa Claus wishes, and favorite dishes. Holiday snows, warm winter clothes, and Rudolph’s red nose.
     I love Christmas.
     I love it because somewhere someone will ask the Christmas questions: What’s the big deal about the bag by in the manger? Who was he? What does his birth have to do with me? The questioner may be a child looking at a front-yard crèche. He may be a soldier stationed far from home. She may be a young mom who, for the first time, holds a child on Christmas Eve. The Christmas season prompts questions.
     I can remember the first time I asked those questions. I grew up in a small West Texas town, the son of a mechanic

Continued on Page 2