31 Days of December Peace: Day 24 ~ Christmas 1914

December 24, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

Approximately 7 million soldiers lost their lives in World War 1. Much of the war took place in the mud in central Europe where Germans, French and British soldiers lived in trenches for years at a time, their feet wet and their bodies chilled. It was a war of inches. The Germans would advance 100 ft. and many lives would be lost. Then the French and British would advance 125 ft, reclaiming 25 feet of real estate, and again many lives would be lost.

It was Christmas Eve, 1914 when the Germans began singing Christmas Carols. The British and French soldiers answered with many of the same carols in English and French. On Christmas Day a German soldier hesitantly came out of his trench with one of the many Christmas trees which had been brought to the front to cheer up the German soldiers. Other trees were added. A few, and then many British and French soldiers joined the Germans. They shook hands. Some embraced. Someone produced a soccer ball and they spent Christmas Day playing soccer together. They exchanged chocolate, champagne and cognac, cakes, candy and tobacco. They showed each other photos of their families.
This spontaneous display of man’s desire for peace, and for the meaning of Christmas for all of them, is one of the great testaments to the potential goodness of humanity. The armies did not approve and many men were disciplined, but it was an act of love, charity and peace even in war. It was Christmas.

31 Days of December Peace: Day 22 ~ The Greatest Gift

December 22, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

Sunday, November 28, 1972. It was a big day. A really big day.

I turned 11, and my parents gave me the greatest gift ever – a black Schwinn bike, complete with a sparkly, silver banana seat and high handle bars. It wasn’t just cool, it was going to be the coolest bike in the bike rack in front of Ben Franklin Elementary School on Monday… and, it was!

Friday, December 3, 1972. It was a bad day. A really bad day.

Probably in my arrogance, I was admiring my new bike more than I should. I parked it in the bike rack that morning and in a rush, failed to remember to put the lock on it.

During recess, I took every opportunity to look at it. It was so cool. But when I came out at the end of the school day to get my incredible bike to ride home, I couldn’t believe me eyes. My stomach dropped. There was the bike rack. But my bike was nowhere in sight. It had disappeared. Stolen.I ran inside to the principal’s office and turned in a report, although I don’t think it did much good. Mr. Taylor wasn’t very fond of me anyway. It was a long, long walk home that day.

Friday, December 24, 1972. A day I will never, ever forget.

My extended family on my mom’s side had driven from Dallas and Waco to spend Christmas with our family. Among the bunch was my great uncle Bill (his real name was David, and I was named after him).

Uncle Bill was one tough hombre, as bald as bald could be. All of us kids were all a bit scared of him. He never married because he was in the FBI… whoa! He would never tell us what he did, so you can imagine what we thought he did. Uncle Bill lived by himself in an old house where my great-grandparents had lived in Waco, Texas. I always remember thinking how poor he was.

Christmas Eve can be magical for a 10-year-old boy. You can guess what I hoped for, but knew I wouldn’t receive.

Of course, another bike.

Sure enough, when Santa showed up… Schwinn did not. I knew it was all my fault I didn’t have a bike.After we opened our presents, Uncle Bill called my dad and me into my parents’ bedroom. I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought I was in trouble, as it was a condition I often found myself in. Uncle Bill pulled out his old leather wallet, opened it up, and took out a crisp brand new $100 dollar bill. I had never seen one in my life. He told me he heard about my bike being stolen and wanted to give me $100 dollars so I could go with my dad to get a new bike.

I just stared at it. I couldn’t believe it. Tears come even now, as I see this memory so clearly in my mind’s eye.

You see… generosity changes everything. I never looked at Uncle Bill the same. Here was a man that gave far more than he could afford to help a kid get a bike. Generosity is a strong, powerful, and mysterious thing. It changes us when we do it. It changes us when it’s done to us. That day forever changed that boy and this man.

May you experience generosity and the peace that comes from it this December, as we celebrate the One who would give the greatest gift of all.

31 Days of December Peace: Day 18 ~ My Favorite Month

December 18, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

December is my most exciting month of the year. It is the month we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. When I reflect on our Savior and what He has done for me on Calvary, I have so many things to be thankful for, and I rejoice in all that Jesus has made available to me.

Jesus is my Peace, my Healer, my Comforter, my Joy, and my Strength. When I think on the works of His marvelous hands, I recognize my future is in Good Hands. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I can look forward to having peace in the new year and walking in God’s plan for my life .

December is the month when I reflect on how Jesus made a difference in my life throughout the past months and seasons. Never has Jesus failed to bring me through. As I travel along this journey, I have an assurance I am never alone because Jesus promised in Hebrews 13:5 that He will never leave or forsake me. When I know Jesus is the one lighting my path, I can see brighter days ahead. December is the month I take pleasure in celebrating our Savior with Christmas carols, love, unity, and fellowship with those who have impacted and made a difference in my life. I also make a great effort to give back to those who may not know the love of God. I realize throughout the year I have been blessed to be a blessing, so I seek to allow my life to be a blessing to as many as God would have me serve. I celebrate my Savior by lifting Him up and magnifying His name in the midst of those who need a word of encouragement, and hope.

December is the month I look forward to giving out some of the most beautiful and inspirational greeting cards. While drinking hot cocoa, I write words expressing my love. My favorite December songs are Silent Night and Holy is the Lamb. I am always anticipating God raining down some snowflakes, giving us a white Christmas that shows reverence for His Holiness.

December brings me great joy because I know in my heart Jesus is real, and everything begins to reflect Christ’s love. People are more generous; all over the world songs are being sung about our Savior’s birth; amazing miracles are expressed and talked about over the news; lights are bright throughout the nights, and the world has a heart of giving. Children are laughing and playing, and everyone is anticipating the birth of something new.December is a time I reflect on God’s Peace. There is always a feeling of God’s awesome presence moving around us that lets me know all is well. December is the last month of the year, and I know God speaks about our “Latter being Greater.” As I look back, and look ahead, I can actually testify as to how God’s Peace has calmed all my storms.

31 Days of December Peace: Day 15 ~ Granddaddy's Old Hat

December 15, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

A week away from Christmas… and as a little fellow that meant helping my grandmother pick pecans under the large trees that covered the dirt road like wings from an angel. Granddaddy might drop us off, and might even hang out, but he rarely got out of his faded blue truck. Even still, he was sure to point out the ones I might have missed. It was such a great moment, sitting in the rumbling leaves listening to my grandmother’s rake, occasionally hearing the spitting of tobacco from my grandfather, and making sure not to pick from that area.

Soon we were finished and had enough to provide a couple of pecan pies that would be served the night before Christmas at my grandparents’ home, where we exchanged gifts. Our Christmas Eve tradition was to go to my grandparents’ home along with most of my extended family. A meal was served and there sat those pies and the memory of the pecan gathering a few days before. We would always exchange names the year before, and at the end of the night it was my grandfather’s duty to hand out these gifts. I think he truly enjoyed this, especially with the little ones, who he would joke around with, and even tickle their ribs before handing over the magic box of unknown. I can still see him sitting in that old chair on top of our little world doing his thing.

Of course every day comes to a end, and after cleanup the night would come to a close. Once names were drawn out of my grandfather’s old hat we would have all we needed for next year. With a hug and a Merry Christmas we were home bound. Which for us was three houses down.

Tired from the night, it was time to try and sleep. Although it was an ending for us kids, it meant a beginning for my father, who might have to assemble a bike or a train set. We never got piles of gifts, as we knew the meaning of Christmas was a birthday for our Lord. Yet, we got plenty to make us wake up early the next morning and see what was waiting for us. It was such a simple time in life. Now as a father of an almost two year old girl, I will see the glow in here eyes on Christmas Eve. Although a lot of time has passed, and my grandfather passed away many years ago, I hope my daughter will have special memories of our simple celebration of Jesus Christ. In the end, that is the best gift I can give her, and that story will never change. Merry Christmas!

31 Days of December Peace: Day 13 ~ What is Your Drum?

December 13, 2012 By Stanton Lanier 2 Comments

I am a conflicted human being. Dad has a PhD in analytical chemistry and Mom majored in art. I grew up liking math and numbers. Sometimes I still catch myself counting my steps as I walk. I can hear musical melodies in my head, and started composing by ear when I was fourteen. I majored in chemistry, have an M.B.A., and spent fifteen years in the business world before becoming a pianist-composer in 2004.

Growing up I kept discovering what I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be a doctor. My mom talked me into being a Candy Striper volunteer at our local hospital when I was fourteen. I didn’t like the sight of blood, but was determined to conquer this fear. One day I got the courage to watch a nurse draw blood into a tube from a lady’s arm. Shortly thereafter, standing straight up, I fainted outside the hospital gift shop. My medical career was over. I still have a knot on my head where it hit the concrete floor.

I searched for my calling at a canoe rental, a paper mill, a carpet plant, a soft drink facility, a consulting firm and an insurance company. Then, at age thirty, I experienced what I call “career surrender.” I basically said, “Lord, I give up. Please show me what you want me to be.” My steps were so clearly directed to a financial planning job that I thought I would work there for the rest of my career. What I began to learn, however, was to surrender my faith, my family, my work and my life to God.

The Little Drummer Boy story has always inspired me. At the end the poor little drummer boy says, “What gift can I bring?” as he stands before the baby Jesus. He sees the gifts from the wise men and knows he cannot afford a gift so grand. His friend says, “play your drum.” As he plays the baby Jesus smiles. What a beautiful picture. I believe we all have a special “drum” to play that is unique to us. Some of us discover this very early in life. For some of us it takes time for it to surface. Sadly, some of us don’t look for it, or keep putting it off until “someday.”

What is your drum?

31 Days of December Peace: Day 12 ~ Finally Home for Christmas

December 12, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

Esther looked out her window at the gathering gloom of dusk and accumulating snowfall. It would be a long night here at the nursing center and she hoped that tonight her roommate would finally sleep. The long nights of intermittent moans and raspy breathing did nothing to help her own discomfort, tethered as she was to the ever-present oxygen cannula since her last heart attack in June. Her decision to stay here in New England rather than to live with her daughter in the Midwest had been hers, one she was at peace with after much thought and prayer. Yet tonight, despite the colored lights and garland at each window, it hardly seemed like the Holidays here, much less Christmas Eve. Trusting in her Lord and His providential care for her was a great comfort; but the nights here could be so lonely… especially on this night…

Staring into the darkness, watching the swirling, playful snowflakes’ procession on their way to join the blanket below, she could not help but think back over her 89 years to the happier days of girlhood; to the Christmases of days gone by, with the expectation of Santa Claus and presents. There was Mamma’s cooking and Daddy’s stories, all jumbled together with memories of her own children, in like manner, now all grown and gone with young adult children of their own. She thought wistfully of her own dear Bill, of a Christmas Eve proposal and a lifetime of love and sharing. He was now long-gone to be with Jesus and her heart ached, just to see him smile…to hold his hand… to hear him call her “Essie” one more time. Her family, busied with their own children and grandchildren, managed to call fairly frequently these days… always a lift for her spirits. But, it was not like being there, amidst it all, as impractical and impossible as that was now. The cycles of life, intertwined and spinning together like the dancing flakes before her, were always moving, always changing…
Finishing her bedtime routine, complete with her daily Scripture reading, she slipped beneath her covers and sighed audibly. She remembered the baby Jesus, another unnoticed sojourner; a pilgrim forgotten by the very world He came to save. She remembered John 3:16 and thought about the Father’s Gift, the Light of the World, and how strange it must have been for this infant King; our God wrapped up in flesh, to be away from His home… just so we could know Christmas…

Drifting now, headed for sleep, she breathed a wearied but fervent prayer: “Just to be Home, Lord Jesus… Home with You… Home with Bill… just to be Home…” Her breathing steadied as sleep overcame her. The minutes passed; then an hour, then two, as steadiness gave way to slowing, slowing now to a peaceful still.

And somewhere in the blustery, wintry darkness, Light said, “Come,”…and she did!…

31 Days of December Peace: Day 9 ~ Peace on Earth

December 9, 2012 By Stanton Lanier 1 Comment

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” – Luke 2:14

Peace on earth begins with peace in the human heart. It is the result of an inner transformation that affects external conditions. So for example, if a home is conflicted over angry adults, then peace will come when hearts have been captured by peace with God. When Jesus enters the arena of life, He brings peace to those who submit to Him.

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand” (Romans 5:1-2a).

Are you stressed out over meeting everyone’s expectations? Is the pressure of buying gifts, planning menus and making year-end financial decisions pushing your patience to the edge? If so, inhale the peace of God and exhale the expectations of others. Be careful to not miss the joy of Jesus during this celebration of His birth. Focus on His desires.

Peace on earth does not mean all wars will cease. As our Savior taught, “When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come” (Mark 13:7). In fact, many times following Christ means a clash with the morals of society, a discomfort with family members and conflict with your work culture.

However, in the middle of our situations of unrest, we can rest in the Lord. The calming presence of Jesus was illustrated as He lay in swaddling clothes as the world’s Savior. His peace pursues impure hearts – He came to “seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). So begin by surrendering to your Master Jesus, who began His reign in a humble manger.

Worship the glory of God in all of His goodness, mercy and grace. Wise men and women still seek Him, because He is the originator of wisdom and peace. His favor rests on those who rest in Him, love and obey Him and follow Him all the days of their lives. So, settle down and see Jesus. Replace your frantic pace with calm faith and loud noise with silence. Invite the peace of God to enter into your hurried heart. His peace settles stress.

Lastly, use this season of celestial celebration to celebrate your salvation in Christ. Maybe bake a birthday cake for Jesus and sing happy birthday to your Savior. Dress up in His honor and read the Christmas story. Encourage the children and grandchildren to take on Bible character roles and act out that special day in Bethlehem. Most of all, by grace, model for a world without peace – the world of peace Jesus gives you.

Have I made peace with God? How can I rest in His peace under stressful situations?

31 Days of December Peace: Day 7 ~ The Sweet Gum Tree

December 7, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

I loved to climb trees in North Carolina as a boy. Our yard had pines, dogwoods, a few tall hardwoods and a persimmon tree. But across the street was a giant sweet gum tree. This was the dream climb.

The sweet gum tree towered above the rest. The little green, prickly round balls were captivating. They were brilliant green in the spring and summer, and turned brown and fell to the ground in the fall. The trunk was way too big to put my arms around. The top seemed a hundred feet higher. Once you reached the highest branch you could sit on, the world seemed so much smaller down below. You would sway a foot or two in the wind up there. It was only pleasure though – no fear.

It was always fun throwing the sweet gums from up in the tree. “Projectile DNA” is just hardwired into boys. One time some friends and I decided to see if we could hit a car as it drove by. My heart raced. What would happen if we actually hit one? We found out. The screech of tires skidding scared us half to death. A man got out, shook his finger up at the tree yelled something. It sounded like he was saying “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.” I recall butterflies in my stomach as I was throwing the balls – followed by a gasp as I feared death at the hands of sweet gum road rage! Thankfully the driver decided not to climb the tree to get us. As the car drove away we all sighed with relief and started to retell the story to each other. We didn’t need to throw any more that day.

My soul was stirred every time I climbed that sweet gum tree. There were secret things I discovered up there… freedom from worry, the independence of a bird, the choice to pause and take in the beauty, the awesome power of nature, the wonder and simplicity of childlike faith. I was part of something a lot bigger than myself. It was like I had a part in the story. There did not seem to be any limitations on what was possible in this life.

Did you have a sweet gum tree or favorite childhood hideaway? Where do you find simplicity?

31 Days of December Peace: Day 6 ~ Silent Night Beneath the Light

December 6, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

Peaceful. Content. Joyful. Free. Mesmerized. Filled with a deep sense of wonder and awe.

These words reflect the emotions connected to one of my favorite childhood memories… sitting beneath the street light in front of our home, admiring the endless parade of snowflakes as they emerged from the darkness and entered into the light. The combination of the delicate flakes dancing in the wind and landing without a sound brought me peace.

To this day, when I hear the song Silent Night I can close my eyes and find myself transported back to that sacred place. I can see the individual flakes. I can remember what it felt like when a flake landed on my eyelashes or nose instead of my tongue as I sought to enjoy a frozen treat. It was a peaceful place of solitude and silence where I could get lost in time and thought. I spent hours watching snowflakes fall.Looking back now, I realize how rare an occasion it was for me to sit still as a boy. I was an active kid, always on the run. What was it about that scene that drew me back so often? That kept me silent and still?

Although I was oblivious to my connection with the Creator of the heavens and the earth as a child, today I am convinced that my overwhelming sense of wonder and joy was born beneath that street light. It’s as if God was calling me to experience a silent night, to sit alone with him, to leave the cares of this world (you know the tough stuff like 3rd grade math and watching TV) behind me. I have no doubt that I under-appreciated the silence, solitude and peace available beneath that street light. Fortunately I can still retrieve those moments of peace from my memory bank and relive them in my mind’s eye today from a far more grateful perspective.

When you think back upon your childhood, where did you experience December Peace? Can you close your eyes and go back to that sacred place? Take a moment and get lost in time today. Set some time aside to experience a silent night beneath the light.
Close your eyes. Travel back into your childhood memory bank. Who knows, you might just feel a snowflake or two hit your nose before you open your eyes. Peace be with you.

31 Days of December Peace: Day 4 ~ Lord, Make Us Thankful

December 4, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

Frank Stanton Bondurant was his name. My mom called him “Daddy,” but to his grandsons he was known as “Daddy B.” He was born in 1905 and died in 2002, just shy of his 97th birthday. As I reflect on his influence in my life, I am amazed at how many lasting impressions he made. He was quite a storyteller.

Daddy B was an only child. His parents both died before their 42nd birthday, so he didn’t think he would live past that age. They both played piano, but he was a gifted violinist. He played high school football when there were no face masks, just a thin leather helmet. He broke both eyebrow bones and both collar bones. He loved to play games and tell jokes. If you said, “Please pass the cereal,” he would throw you the box! He introduced me to fig preserves and Mama B’s blackberry cobbler. He threw baseball with me for hours when I was a Little League pitcher, teaching me how to grip the threads to throw a curve ball, drop ball, fast ball and slider. He played his violin with me when I was playing piano in middle and high school. When I learned to drive he always reminded me that if an animal ever ran in front of me that I should “go through it,” and not swerve to miss it. He had wrecked his car one time avoiding a dog. His advice probably saved my family’s life when I hit a deer in June 2002 driving sixty miles per hour. I went through it. Incredibly, we were on the way to Daddy B.’s funeral when this happened.

“Lord, make us thankful for these and all our blessings. Pardon our sins for Christ’s sake. Amen.” This was Daddy B’s prayer before every meal whenever we saw him. These are only a few of my memories of this beloved man of character, passion and faith. I loved Daddy B. I will always remember the blessing he was in my life.

Who is your Daddy B? Can you be a “Daddy B” for someone?