Day 6 for “31 Days of December Peace” ~ Silent Night Beneath the Light

December 6, 2017 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

Click above to listen to Silent Night as you read, from December Peace (Best Holiday Album, ZMR Awards). If you enjoy, consider sampling and ordering the CD, MP3 Album or sheet music. You can also listen on Spotify, Pandora Holiday Channel, Apple Music and all other digital streaming services.

This story is from 31 Days of December Peace (soft cover or PDF eBook). Also available from Amazon Kindle, iTunes, and other e-Readers.

Where could you use some “December Peace” today?

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.

December 6th ~ Silent Night Beneath the Light

December 6, 2015 By Stanton Lanier 1 Comment

Click above to listen to my arrangement of Silent Night as you read. This track is from 2009 Best Holiday Album December Peace (ZMR Awards, winning over Enya and Yo-Yo Ma). If you enjoy, please consider sampling and ordering the CD, MP3 Album or sheet music. You can also listen and download on iTunes and all other digital outlets.

This story is from 31 Days of December Peace (soft cover or eBook). Also available from Amazon Kindle, iTunes, and other e-Readers.

Where could you use some “December Peace” today?

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

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?

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 6 ~ Silent Night Beneath the Light

December 6, 2014 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

This story is from 31 Days of December Peace (soft cover or eBook). Also available from Amazon Kindle, iTunes, and other e-Readers.

Where could you use some “December Peace” today?

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

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

December 22, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

The new 31 Days of December Peace eBook is available for only $4.99. Download at stantonlanier.com or the Amazon Kindle Store.

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 15 ~ Granddaddy's Old Hat

December 15, 2012 By Stanton Lanier Leave a Comment

The new 31 Days of December Peace eBook is available for only $4.99. Download at stantonlanier.com or the Amazon Kindle Store.

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!