CHRISMONS?? WHAT? What are they?

  CHRISMONS?? WHAT?
  White and Gold Ornaments on Christmas trees ...                  Christmas 2012
    What are they? 

                                                                         
                                  Christmas 2012, Three generations worked on Chrismon tree,
                                             my mother, my granddaughter and me.
           
             It was my first year as a believer. And December, 1979, came in a glorious way. Every Christmas tree greener, every manger scene pulling me with a power like never before, making me want to kneel and....

             We visited at my in-laws' church. A Methodist church well known in our area. The front near the altar adorned with poinsettias, red bows sprinkled here and there. Just right. Beautiful Christmas carols sung by the choir ... bells aringing ...  and then, I saw it for the first time in my life! The Christmas tree near the altar was decorated with these strange gold and white ornaments. What were those?

              After the service, being of a curious sort, I asked my mother-in-law, "What were those symbols on the tree? Is there a reason why they were only white and gold? Do they come out only at Christmas time?" She stared at my face and waited for me to breathe again.
               
               "Marggie, they're called Chrismons. I have a book at home that explains them. You can have it," she said.
              
                A couple of years later my seven year old daughter and I decided we would decorate by making ornaments for a  Chrismon tree. We worked hard on the symbols and some of our friends and family members were really encouraging. They decided to add to our Chrismons so the ornaments we have today are all special to us. Oh, by the way .... this is what I found out from the book.

       Chrismon: Information and Trivia

         1. A Chrismon is a Christian symbol representing Jesus Christ.

         2. The word Chrismon comes from the Latin phrase "Christi monogramma," meaning "monogram of Chirst."

         3. The Ascension Lutheran Church, in Danville, VA, holds the copyright on the word "Chrismons."

         4. The rights to that word were given to the church by Mrs. Frances Spencer, who originated the concept and brought it to that church in 1957.

         5. Chrismons may never be made for profit.

         6. Chrismons are either all white or all gold or white and gold. The gold represents Christ's majesty as King Of Kings, the white represents His holiness as God and Lord of lords.

        

        *After some research and feedback from other people who have Chrismon trees I learned
         one can place words, objects, letters, titles and names of Christ as a Chrismon on the tree.
         It differs according to how strict or lenient a person wants to be. However, the ornament
         pattern of colors is always the same, white,gold,or white and gold.
                                                                                        

                                                                      

   Crosses crocheted by my mother in 1981.

 

 

 

CHRISTMAS HAPPENING ... The Stranger ... The Retuns

          

                    The Stranger ... The Returns                          From Memoir, A Dot In Time

   

     My old CD chimed within my car, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, as I waited in the parking lot. Outside the store a lady fidgeted with the Redbox kiosk, trying to get her movie. She pulled her sweater collar around her neck. I decided to wait, wrapped in the joyful sound, and delighted to sense my heater's gentle breathing on my sandaled toes.

     Suddenly, I became aware of the presence. A diminutive figure stood  in front of my car like a lone reed.

    Oh, no. I thought.  He doesn't know I've been waiting. He'll get ahead of me. I wanted to return the movie and get on with life. Errands to run, bathrooms to clean, Christmas presents still to wrap.

    I scanned over the fellow before me. His beige, shabby jacket, faded jeans, day-old beard, chopped cropped hair ... and those glasses! Round glass circles, thick, thick, thick. And what pulled me in and glued me to them was that yellow tint.  My mind reeled fast like an out of control broken movie projector. Oh my goodness. Did he have that tint put in intentionally? I traced his figure down a bit and discovered the mustard shirt inside his jacket. Was the tint the reflection of that material? And, I smiled to myself. Mischief crept in. He's not a reed. He's Mr. Hotdog! Mustard and all.  

     I scooted out of my car, hoping Mr. Hotdog would let me go next. I stared into thick yellow tinted glasses on the small face occupied by a giant smile. "You were here first," he said.

    "Thank you. It's only a return," I said. His smile got wider.

    I plunged myself into the machinery to return my DVD  but could not get it to work. One way and another I seemed to place it in the wrong way. Frustrated I glanced at the stranger patiently waiting.

     "Could you help me, sir? I never returned one of these before."     

      He worked at putting the DVD on the right side facing the right way. It took a few tries to get it just right and I thanked him.

     "You're welcome. Sometimes I also have problems with the returns."

     I turned hurriedly to leave. But, heard his voice once again. "Merry Christmas." Merry Christmas?

    I stopped and looked back into his thick tinted glasses. "Merry Christmas!" I returned.

 

   Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.  Hebrews 13:2

TODAY ...

                   

                  Today ...      

 

           His look captured my eyes and then his words plunged into my soul.

           "Organ donor?" He said.

           I froze. Organ donor? Was that to be engraved on my new driver's license? Etched there by my submitted will?  I remembered then what I had asked Him.

          "It's Your celebration this month. What do You want me to give You for your birthday?"

          "Organ donor, Mrs. Rassler. Do you want to be an organ donor?"

          Past fears surfaced to be snuffed out by my mind's picture of a humble stable. A forlorn little stable stamped by destiny with the shadow of  a cross.

          And then, the voice jolted me out of the pensive trance.

          "Organ donor?" he asked once more.

          "Yes. Donor." I said

INSANITY ... THE PERFECT STORM

     
        

                       INSANITY ... THE PERFECT STORM           by Marggie Rassler

                      

        In 1979 the voices moved in. They took residence inside my head and outside my ears.

Sleep became futile. At night, my eyes closed to reveal unwelcome intruders. In the darkness within me the daunting parade of strange faces appeared ... coming closer and closer to my mind's eye. Angry faces. Eyes like razors. One by one they slid closer and closer into me. Each forcefully drawing something out of me. At these times, I trembled and wept. Alone. Couldn't tell anyone I had plunged into insanity. The children ... they would be taken away.

        My heart battled its inner world of constant storms. Biting, crushing words from the voices tormented me with their prophecies of approaching doom. "Soon you will be in a mental hospital. Behind bars.Tied down." Only the loaded gun in the closet whispered relief.

        In my despair I called out to God. Visions came from a supernatural realm and then ... the invitation. Surrender.

        Surrender? Surrender what? Surrender all.

        What else to do? I wrote the open, invisible check and gave it to Him. My life, my soul, my children, my husband ... all. My insanity. All that I had, all that I was, all that I would be. And then, it began. A supernatural existence. The war with a year of the endless battles He and I would fight together ... battles won placing me back into sanity. Lessons I would then spent thirty years teaching others.

         At my house we have a sign on the front door. Shalom. The Hebrew word means PEACE. A certain kind of peace that brings health, well-being, protection and deliverance. Many through the years, have come through our doors, looking for that. In their search I have seen their encounters with God that radically changed their hopeless lives. It is because of the supernatural power of redemption I have experienced in my own life and the same power I have seen manifested in their lives that I believe.

        It is because of the desire in my life to help others so oppressed that I want to write and tell their stories ... His story. Pray for me.

A THANKSGIVING OFFERING

                            

A Thanksgiving Offering  by Marggie Rassler  Thanksgiving 2012

Give Me "your true real,"

Though raw and foul,

The stench of your days old

Crucified flesh,

Screaming loud,

My treasured scent ...

Your thanksgiving offering.

The Amen

ME AND CONFETTI

  

    Me And Confetti               by Marggie Rassler   To my family and friends ... thanks

                                                                      for those  precious dots in time you've given me!

Trace me first with Cross,

That pins my eyes

To the heavenlies.

 Color me blood-red,

 For my Latin love

 Of passion.

 Spray me with

 The scent of just

 Grounded coffee beans.

 

 Sculpture me, with hairpin

 Mountain turns, mirrors of

 my love for adventure.

 

Paint brush me with tears,

Frozen rivers melting now,

For an island's oppressed people.

 

Sing me into a song,

To the beat of the drum,

Of my grandchildren's laughter.

 

  And finally,

 

  Splash me, with

  The multi-colored dots,

  The many people

  Who gifted me with,

  Most unforgettable moments ...

  

  My dots in time,

  My life's Confetti!  

 

THE LORD'S SHOES

 

                                                                         
             

THE LORD’S SHOES        ( October 2011)

  by Marggie Rassler

 

Where does the Lord,

Take off His shoes,

To rest, to gaze, to ponder?

Where does He pause to smile  

Then sing, as children play and wander?

 

Where does the Lord sit for a time,

To hear the wind's soft whisper,

And views fall leaves,

Swaying down from trees,

As happy frolicking sisters?

 

Where does the Lord paint

Party streamers, on evening skies,

Like rainbow sprays from fountains?

Where does He go to see the sun,

Play Hide and Seek with mountains?

 

Where does He trace,

The walks of fawn,

To food in early dawn?

Where does He teach the morning call,

To a rooster standing tall?

 

In Blairsville, Georgia,

When fall is preaching,

And nature’s choir,

My heart is reaching,

I see His Shoes…

And take off mine.

 

 

             “Moses! Moses! Take off your sandals, for you are standing on holy ground.”

                                                                               Exodus 3:4,5

                                                                              

              “He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”

                                                                              Zephaniah 3:17