Showing posts with label 12 days of Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 12 days of Christmas. Show all posts

Saturday, January 1, 2022

8)Рождественскую Ночь (Christmas Eve) by Joy Worship

 

Translation of the Chorus:

In unison with heaven
Sing and rejoice with everyone
That a savior was born to us 
On a sleepy night in Bethlehem
And in the praise of shepherds
The good news is heard: 
God forgave us all our sins
Christ is born to us
Hallelujah.


*****
Церковь Радость
г. Алматы
Пастор Томас Томассов

Если вам интересно еще, можно услышать их Рождественская мюзикл-поема здесь:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJsyNcGWBp0.

И еще музыка на Ютубе.  



Joy Church
Almaty, Kazakhstan.
Pastor Tomas Tomassov

Check out more of their songs on youtube.

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

07)Delivering the Deliverer: Ukrainian Calligraphy by Carli Lewis

 

Meditative calligraphy in Ukrainian. The beginning of the Magnificat; Luke 1:47-49 Reflecting on the parallel of Mary’s words speaking about God’s choosing to use her to deliver the deliverer, that we later would be delivered through Him and called blessed among all people.

The text: 

47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
    For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
    and holy is his name.


*****

Carli Lewis is an artist, designer, and musician from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma, currently based in Kiev, Ukraine. Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/meradijoy Music: http://carlilewis.bandcamp.com/releases

Sunday, December 26, 2021

6)Blitzen by Jamie Musselman


 

Merry Christmas from the North Pole!


*****
Jamie Musselman is a painter and illustrator from Indiana.  She has too many hobbies and a deep appreciation for Tolkien.
 
Find more of her work on instagram at Jamie Musselman's (@thebashfulbadger) profile on Instagram.

Saturday, December 25, 2021

5)Seven Nativities by James Metelak

Seven Nativities

 

I.  Madonna with Child

 

When she looks into his little eyes

She sees the face of the accuser,

The face of her pain, rejection, judgement, and her abuser,

But when he smiles she also sees

The loving face of God.

 

II.  Christus Victor

 

What child is this descending from his billowing starship?
The Conquistador from across the sea,

An alien white face on a white horse

Bearing plague, spitting fire

He descends on the land

The people perish,
Face of a Roman father

Spreading terror

And then communion.

And eventually siring the divine mestiza.

 

III.  Incarnation

 

The first time she looked down at him,

She cried, when she saw his alien eyes.

Family said “Get rid of it,”

Saw in him only problem, disgrace, and pain,

Medical bills and defect,

She wandered in the mystery,

What’s wrong with him?

What’s wrong with me?

We struggle to understand

The divinity in imperfection.

 

IV.  The Annunciation

 

He came into a virgin womb;

She cried and tried to smile

And mask her shame.

 

Full of love and full of grace,

If they could only see her,

The divinity beyond her sexuality.

 

But like Augustine, they use her

Then discard her as vice and temptress.

 

V. Nativity

 

They call themselves the native sons,

The colonizer aliens,

Of course, there were earlier migrations.

To keep America great

We must keep out all Palestinians.

 

Here on the reservation or refugee camp, a baby is born

To be taken from its parents to be saved

At a boarding school, or in a foster family.

Son of God and son of man.

 

He will be crucified between the margins

Of the crossed staves of

Poverty and racist exclusion

But no one is listening, there is no one to hear his

“I am finished.”

And thus, we lose our salvation.

 

VI.  Immanuel

 

Jesus came to the US fleeing the Maras:

A Honduran wholesale murder of the innocents

Subsidized by the Empire’s glut for drugs and gangster presidents.

His F/father worked in construction.

Joseph and Mary were unable to get documents,

Deported twice, they then sent Jesus ahead:

Cages were prepared, then shelters,

But the locals said “not in our town”

And shut them down.

Too old for DACA, and born abroad,

He was unable to study officially, but learned

Drywall and Bible from his uncle.


One Sunday he walked up to the pulpit,

Started preaching, the deacons called security,

Asked for credentials, the cops got involved.

We deported God,

And his body lies in the shape of a cross

On the corner of a San Pedro Sula street.

 

VII. Orphaned God

 

We left you on the street

We left you in the system

We left you in the refugee camp

We left you at the border,

We left you, Imago Dei.

 

We searched far and wide for our saviour complex:

South Korea, Guatemala, Ethiopia, Kyrgyzstan,
We paid the bribes for an exotic baby

That fit our narrative.

 

But you, God, were too old.

You were too scarred.

Your nose was too big,

Your opinions, trauma, and defects too strong.

It didn’t seem like you would fit into our family.

 

So we offered you our bribes and tithes,

We built orphanages and group homes and juvenile facilities…

No nearer, please.

As innkeepers, we put you in the stable

Receiving God as animal,

For the Word to become flesh,

To keep it alive,

We must invite it to dwell among us

In homes and hearts.

 

 

*****

 James Metelak is a poet, activist, singer-songwriter, and photographer currently based in Colorado.  His 2 books of poetry are available on Amazon Kindle, his music is available on Bandcamp, and his photography is on Instagram

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Day 4: An Unusual Nativity by Audrey Gragert

 

Audrey Gragert is a Studio Art graduate of CSU Chico (California).  She is currently a homemaker and mother living in North Dakota!  Check out her portfolio at Deviantart: http://10time.deviantart.com/gallery

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Day 3: Winter Photography from Finland by Ramona Parkkonen




 


 




Ramona Parkkonen is a semi-pro photographer from Southern Finland. She loves animals, nature, travelling and taking pictures of animals and nature while travelling. Check out more of her work on Instagram @ramonaparkkonen or at her website:  www.ramonan.kuvat.fi.

Friday, December 17, 2021

Day 2: The Union Forever by Stephen Carradini

The Union Forever, or Mostly The Third Verse of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing' for the 21st Century

We have never known the perfect union, 
the glory that Christ gladly left for us. 
Yet in the future we can rightly feel it, 
the perfect peace that our Prince sacrificed. 
He joined our rife divisions so that we could 
(Hallelujah!) share eternal union.


****

Stephen Carradini is a  researcher, teacher, and writer in Arizona.

Monday, December 13, 2021

Day 1: "Flight to Egypt" by Katie Joy Nellis.

 

Kathryn Nellis is a painter, writer, musician, and creative genius.  She studied at Gordon College and in Orvieto, Italy, and currently works as a self-employed artist in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

Listen to her music: https://sistersstoriesandsongs.bandcamp.com/
Youtube:  The Omnibuskers 
Website: http://katiejoynellisart.net/
FB and IG: Katie Joy Nellis Art


Friday, December 25, 2020

14)Has a Name by Karolina Mint

Karolina Mint is a singer-songwriter from Lithuania. She likes nature, poetry, books, ideas, and creating things. For more of her music follow her on Facebook or listen on Soundcloud



Wednesday, December 16, 2020

5)Tidings by James Metelak

I’m starting to, believe the ocean’s much like you...


Comfort

Warmth

The deep inhales and exhales

The floodwaters rise and they recede

The planets align for a moment but again

Go their separate ways

The world is on fire, but then the desert blooms

And the Sequoias seed

The hurricanes come

And eventually someone comes to tow away the barge

On your lawn.

Diseases plague us

And then fade into the background


This too shall pass.


There is no cocoon or womb to hold us,

We like lighthouses against the storm,

Are battered, bruised, afraid, and frustrated

The news, bringing tidings of divisions and war

Rage, separations, and lockdown orders.

You too shall pass

And you hope it’s not the cough come to get you

But you feel the sting, why weren’t the others so lucky?

Emmanuel rings a little hollow

When you’re alone for five weeks

And you still can’t breathe normally;

Virtual realities become normalities and

And I miss hugs.

 

Saturn and Jupiter dance in the sky

But all our dancehalls are closed.

We brush up against so many

Who are feeling under the weather--

But when it rains, you can grab an umbrella

Or dance in it,

And when it snows you can build castles

Or cuddle up indoors.

Each year the hurricanes come,

And the important part is not how strong they are

But how we weather them

How we respond.

When the wave comes, you can duck under, jump over, 

Try to ride it or let it give you a twirl, but you

Can’t stop the waves from coming.


So if you find yourself isolated.

Alone.

Stressed.

Hurting.

Sure, reach out, fix what you can.

But take this time as an invitation…

And invitation to slow down, mourn, rest.

And invitation to write, to paint, to sing.

To write letters to the ones you’ve lost touch with.

To work on  those projects you’ve been thinking of doing.  

Or not.

Or find a front line and start fighting for people in need.

And to those of you who are fighting…

It’s okay.
It’s going to be okay.

This storm will pass.

A new year is coming,

And whether it is better or worse...

Is a decision that's yours to make.


The year is 2020,

And I have seen

Such sunrises and sunsets,

Love bursting through the seams, weddings whose joy

Could not be robbed by mask orders or social distancing

Or even being capped at 16.

I have seen people around the globe

Reaching out to those left without work and hungry

I have seen teachers whose love for their students shines through

The sometimes farce of online teaching

And doctors and nurses giving their lives,

Risking their lives

To try and save a few.

I have seen communities and friends who in love

Gather around each other

And others who in love maintain their distance.

We are navigating uncharted waters, I mean,

Theoretically, every flu season,

Our cough could kill someone,

But we as a species are wrestling with huge responsibility

And our responses are many, and varied

And we mostly try to do our best, and

Try to maintain our humanity.

 

It’s Christmas, and

If there’s a God,

I believe He is with us.

Laughing and crying with us.

In this.

In all of it.

I wish the religious folks got that because if they did

They wouldn’t need politicians to validate them

Nor would they feel threatened by those who don’t

See them.

The manger story is a story of a human race

Loved.

Seen.

Embraced in its entirety

“The hungry He has filled with good things.”

His favour rests on humanity

And His word is peace.

 

Believe me, I hear you

I see the Hondurans on their rooftops,

And the Armenians and Azerbaijanis at each other’s throats

I see the Uighurs and the Belarusians imprisoned and the racism

And the rapists acquitted and

The callousness and corruption of those in power.

I hear the conspiracy theories.

But there is still 

So

Much

Joy.

 

Feel free to re-celebrate Thanksgiving,

To go back and count your blessings.

Yes beloved, you have lost

And you are going to lose everything.

Every peak and valley eventually flatlines

Into the sea.

But it’s a wonderful life

And the views from those peaks!

And oh, the things we find in those valleys!

You can count it all as loss or try to analyze

The ups and downs and see which one comes out on top

But I think that misses the point of breathing.


So put up your lights.

Sing out loud.

Dance, even if it’s in your living room by yourself.

Play games.

Give thanks.

Write letters.

Make cookies.

Celebrate.

Taste and see.

Life is today.

Joy is today.

And joy is here. 

 

 

 

*****
James Metelak is a poet, activist, singer-songwriter, and photographer based in Central Asia.  His 2 books of poetry are available on Amazon Kindle, his music is available on Bandcamp, and his photography is on Instagram

Tuesday, December 15, 2020

4)O Little Town of Bethlehem (Blinded By Your Grace) By King's Anthem

 

 
 
 
King's Anthem is a Plymouth, England based group focused on training and coaching local worship teams.  Due to COVID, they've been involved in a number of online events this year, including this collaboration with a network of local churches.  Listen to their 2020 album "Wild Ones" on Spotify.

Sunday, December 13, 2020

2)Silver Bells: Tracy Nitschke and Krista Kahsen


Silver Bells was written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans.

Tracy Nitschke is a singer-songerwriter and producer currently based in a converted van in California.  Hailing from Billings, Montana, she has worked in video game design and likes to share her experiences through her music, which is available on Spotify and Apple Music.
 

Krista Kahsen is a missionary, musician, and photographer.  She likes traveling, volunteering, hiking, and learning new languages.  Originally from Michigan, she is currently works with local organizations in Thailand.  Check out her photography on Instagram @kristakahsen


Sunday, December 29, 2019

10)Robert Best "Eat the Weak"

 
I saw a documentary on wolves,
In Yellowstone, reintroduced a few Decades ago.
They're doing well, it seems.
The winter's tough in Yellowstone, the grass
Is far below the snow, the hungry herd
Is easy meat as winter takes its toll.

 The wolf, of course, could not be less concerned
By how unfair the feeding frenzy seems
To prey hit hard by winter's frost who then
Cannot defend their sick and young but see
Them struggle, fall, to unrelenting jaws.
It's in their nature, born to eat the weak.

I saw a stat in a rag on the road
Up to Christmas. Paper said, a hundred,
Thirty five thousand young humans homeless
In time for Christmas. Highest number since
Two thousand seven. Just zero point two
Percent the British population, though.
Around the size of Newport or Colchester.

The wolf, of course, could not be less concerned.
An apex beast has fought for every piece
Of winter's banquet. Gorge upon success,
You've earnt the right to celebrate yourselves
And if another's young must freeze for yours To feed.
The parent should have been a wolf.


*****
Robert Best works in IT and lives in Wales. He loves running about in the hills, archaic stick sports, and traditional folk music. At some point he may actually finish one of the many novels he's started but until then you'll struggle to access any of his artistic outlets unless you make a habit of checking out the folk clubs in South Wales.

Saturday, December 28, 2019

9)Привет Фотоgraphy "Lights and Presents."

The Snow Queen.
Sosnovka, Kyrgyzstan.



 
Oh Deer.
Stockholm, Sweden.


Mega Shopping Center.
Almaty, Kazakhstan.

Deep Blues and Lights.
Riga, Latvia.

Holiday Reflections.
Almaty, Kazakhstan.

 Street Decorations.
Klaipėda, Lithuania.

School Children Singing Carols at the Christmas Market.
Stockholm, Sweden.


Cookie Cutter Lights.
Riga, Latvia. 

Fireworks at the Christmas Tree Lighting.
Mount Vernon, Virginia.

Gifts at the "School of Limitless Possibilities."  
Sosnovka, Kyrgyzstan.

December On Town Square.
Šiauliai, Lithuania.

Christmas Truce, or Neighbors.
Gingerbread House Contest in Stockholm, Sweden.

Backstage with Uncle Frost and the Snow Queen.
Sosnovka, Kyrgyzstan.

Christmas Lights Abstract.
Virginia, USA.


 Spirits Raised.
Virginia, USA.

All Photos are No Edit/No Filter and All Rights Reserved.

James Metelak is a poet, photographer, and singer-songwriter based in Kyrgyzstan, and the editor/curator of the Headpiece Blog.  Check out more of his work at http://sandpiperparade.weebly.com




Friday, December 27, 2019

8)Jeff Hinton "Roses in Deserts, Flowers in Concrete"

After José Olivarez and Isaiah 35

The call goes out that the desert will bloom
And it sounds hopeful
That this inhospitable wasteland will turn into something beautiful
Something lovely
These sands with the heat that chokes out all life
Will become soil that nourishes a new paradise
That’s what we’re told, that’s what we’ll see, eventually
But what if the desert blooms and it’s still a desert?
What if this miraculous event occurs and then these lush carpets of flowers 
shrivel and die
Just like everything that came before?
What if it needs more than hope and desire for love to bloom in a wasteland?

Maybe it’s like the rose that blooms from the crack in the sidewalk
It’s once again the metaphor for hope, for persevering in the face of adversity, 
for overcoming the odds
And yet beneath the foot of the ruler walking by, it’s the same as the concrete around it
The flower and the stone feel the same beneath a boot
It’s easily ignored
Or worse, after all the work it takes to grow in such a harsh environment
Someone decides that the rose doesn’t belong
And plucks it up before it can be anything at all

Maybe we need to realize that it’s not enough to plant orchids in the sand and call it a miracle
Maybe we need to stop celebrating small signs and wonders as if they’re the end of the story
When really they’re a call to renewal, to a new order of all things
Maybe what we need to do is transform the sidewalk into a garden
To terraform the desert, rearranging it entirely so that it might hold paradise instead
That it might provide a home for those who have none
instead of drying out the hope of anyone stranded there
Maybe that’s what this season of preparation is for
Not that we might be ready to see something unlikely
But that we transform ourselves so that we might make the unlikely the ordinary
So that the desert blooms for more than a fleeting moment
So that the rose doesn’t just fight its way out of a crack in the sidewalk
So that we don’t just wait for God to show up
But we make the path that God takes through that wasteland that was once so 
imposing to get here
Lined on either side with roses in full bloom

 

Jeff Hinton is a pastor, writer and musician in Oklahoma. You can find his work at Irrational Confidence and his most recent EP here.

Thursday, December 26, 2019

7)Audrey Gragert "Hope and Light"

"Hope and Light" Watercolor on watercolor paper

Here it comes again, Christmas. The season that shouts,"We have a savior!" On Christmas the world saw him for the first time. First the shepherds and later the wisemen saw him. They did not know how he would save them, but they hoped in him. Not one of his family nor any of his disciples knew how he would save them, but they hoped in him. He is our hope, shining with a dazzling brilliance. No matter how dark, no matter how hopeless or helpless and no matter how unloving and unlovable we are, he will save. Because of him, I have been forgiven. Because he lives, I know that he is saving me. I don't know what it will look like in the end, but I'm looking forward to it!



Audrey Gragert is a Studio Art graduate of CSU Chico (California).  She is currently a homemaker and mother living in North Dakota!  Check out her portfolio at Deviantarthttp://10time.deviantart.com/gallery 



Wednesday, December 25, 2019

6)Julia Sołek "W żłobie leży"


Julia Sołek is a medical student from Łódź, Poland; besides being really smart, she's also a talented artist, a supportive friend, and lovely singer.

Monday, December 23, 2019

4)Gabrielė Gvazdikaitė "Šventa Naktis"


Gabrielė Gvazdikaitė is a singer-songwriter and worship leader from Kaunas, Lithuania.  Involved in ministry since her teen years, Gabrielė's dream is for Lithuanians to hear the Gospel in their mother tongue.  Check out her website @thttp://gabrielegvazdikaite.lt or listen to her music on Youtube.  Her third album "Džiaukis, Pasauli" is avaiable on Google Play or Spotify.

Sunday, December 22, 2019

3)Stephen Carradini "The Eighth Christmas"


The Eighth Christmas
Or, The Text of a Children’s Book 
Concerning the Eighth Birthday of Yeshua Bar-Joseph

Mary dancing in the foyer.
Joseph turning wood.
Sisters chirping “miracles” while
James takes in the mood.
Jude is singing in the bathroom,
Neighbors bringing food.
Aunties hugging everyone, and
Uncles say “he could

grow up to be a carpenter,
working for his father.”
“Maybe take up fishing,
and then go out with his brother.”
“I hope he won’t take taxes and
shame his humble mother.”
“I pray he joins a rabbi.
Maybe Hillel, or another.

Or maybe something else, I guess,
he’s still got some boyhood.”
“Maybe Mary’s right.” “What’s that?”
“Messiah.” “Ah, she would.”


Stephen Carradini teaches, researches, reviews music, writes poetry, and sings in Arizona.