NEW BEGINNINGS by Harriet Michael

Are you a morning person or a night one? I’m a morning person. I love mornings! They always beckon me with the promise of a new beginning. Mornings have a freshness to me as if they hold a secret promise of great things that might happen as the day unfolds.

Some years ago as I was researching and writing my book on prayer, I came across so many passages in the scripture where one Bible character or another rises early in the morning to do something God had called them to do that day, or to seek God in some way. Here are some examples, just to list a few:

Abraham rose early the day he planned to offer Isaac as a sacrifice according to Genesis 22:3. He rose early again the day after Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed and he hurried to a place where he could look down on the cities to see if they had been destroyed or not. (Genesis 19:27-28)

Joshua rose early to travel to the Jordon before he crossed over. (Joshua 3:1)

David rose early to obey his father Jesse and take supplies to his brothers in battle. (1 Samuel 17:20)

God instructed Moses to rise early when he was to stand before Pharaoh and tell him to let God’s people go. (Exodus 8:20)

… and on and on it goes. If you look for this pattern in the scripture, you will find it.

So, what’s the lesson here? Is this bad news for those of us who do not care so much for mornings and need a little time and maybe a cup of coffee before we can even begin to embrace the new day? I don’t think so. I don’t think the biblical point is to love mornings as much as it is to get on with whatever God has for you to do in life. In the Bible times, before electricity, if they were going to apply themselves in whatever action they felt God had asked of them, they’d better not waste any daylight; they better get on with it.

Today, doing what God has asked of you may require staying up late instead of rising early. But the point remains--embrace the day! Or rather, embrace what God is calling you to do, and get busy doing it, whether that means getting up early or sleeping late because you stayed up late the night before.

And since it is now January, the new beginning of a brand new year—embrace that too.

About the Author

Harriet Michael is the author of over 150 articles and devotions along with her recent release, PRAYER: IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU. Born on the mission field of Nigeria, she has a passion for the Lord and sharing His words.

You can learn more about Harriet at her author page on the Write Integrity Press website HERE, and buy her book in print or e-book HERE.

12 Books of Christmas: THE MOST SPECTACULAR TREE by Shirley Crowder

Each Christmas as I unwrap the ornaments and decorations, years of memories flood my mind. I remember countless family and friends with whom I have shared Christmas—in Nigeria, West Africa, and in the States.

When it is time to decorate, I lay out all the ornaments in color groups so I can see each one. Next I put the lights on the tree (even though the tree I have now is pre-lit, I add a bunch of colored lights).

Then I begin the several night process of putting the ornaments on the tree in the way that my big brother Tim taught me. Admittedly there are times since his death that I have fussed at him as I decorated my tree. The reason I fuss is because it wasn’t enough for Tim that I have a few lights and a few ornaments on my tree, HIS little sister had to have the most spectacular tree of all!

So, a tree must be decorated so that from whatever angle or height you look you see ornaments. Seeing all the way through to the trunk is a huge no-no! As you can imagine it takes a lot of ornaments of all kinds: fancy, handmade, expensive, cheap, old, new, pretty, not so pretty, big, little—you name it!! A tree just looks skimpy if I don’t decorate it the way big brother taught me!

After putting the last (well, maybe the last) ornament on the tree, I sit down and soak up the beauty of the lights and the ornaments while one of my favorite Christmas music boxes plays “Joy to the World.”

I reflect upon my life, God’s grace and mercy to me, and how the Lord has blessed me throughout the years. I think of the tree as representing my life. The white lights represent The Light of the World (Jesus) Who came to this earth to redeem me. The colored lights represent all the experiences that have given depth and meaning to my life, some bright and cheerful, others darker and more somber. The ornaments represent the many different family and friends who have added color and dimension to my life through shared worship, laughter, fun, sorrow, encouragement and comfort.

I thank the Lord for the rich blessings of family and friends!! And I am thankful for my family and friends, and for the wonderful ways each one has enriched my life!!

About the Author:

Born in a mission guest house under the shade of a mango tree in Nigeria, West Africa, where her parents served as missionaries, Shirley is passionate about disciple-making, which is conducted in and through myriad ministry opportunities. She is a biblical counselor and co-host of "Think on These Things" a Birmingham, Alabama, radio/TV program for women. Shirley is commissioned by and serves on the national Advisory Team for, The Addiction Connection. You can learn more about Shirley at her author page on our Write Integrity website. 

And before you go, enjoy Shirley's favorite recipe for an easy version of fudge!

Recipe for Jeannie’s Microwave Fudge:

3 cups of Chocolate chips
1 can (14oz) of Eagle Brand Condensed Milk
4 TBS butter (at room temperature)
1 TSP vanilla extract
¼ TSP salt
8x8 pan, line with aluminum foil, spray foil with Pam.

Put chocolate chips, condensed milk and butter in microwave safe bowl. Heat for 1 minute (note: if butter is very cold you may need to cook an additional 30 seconds. DO NOT OVERCOOK.) Mix all ingredients until well blended. Add vanilla & salt. Continue stirring until thoroughly mixed. Pour into pan and refrigerate uncovered for at least 2 hours. Cut into squares or triangles.


Best served room temperature.

12 Books of Christmas: 

Shirley's written a companion Bible study guide for our yesterday's book, PRAYER: IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU by Harriet Michael. Available in early January, you can win your own copy of both books, along with 10 other books (US residents only) by commenting below and leaving your email address for us to add to our monthly newsletter list. (Unsubscribe anytime.) Here's a question you can answer: Do you have ornaments that, even though they aren't the best or nicest, you just can't release?

12 Books of Christmas: A CURRY CHRISTMAS by Harriet E. Michael

Christmases of my childhood felt more summertime, or maybe spring, actually. The days were hot but the nights and early mornings could sometimes be chilly enough for sweaters. I was reared in West Africa and Christmas there falls right in the middle of the dry season, in a special part of it called, Harmattan, when the dusty winds from the Sahara Desert blow south. The world around me was dry and dusty. My missionary father always said he liked that Christmas came in the middle of Harmattan, because in some ways it felt fitting to him.

The Christmases of his childhood were spent in America where the world around him was stark and cold. Against these two backdrops—one stark and cold, the other dry and dusty, Christians celebrate the birth of their Savior with brightly lit trees, colored packages, singing, and rejoicing.

One of my family’s favorite holiday traditions was enjoying a meal of curried chicken. This tradition started in Africa where beef was scarce but chicken abundant. It was such a strong tradition among the missionaries that to this day many of my missionary kid peers still serve it at our Christmas or Thanksgiving family get-togethers.

About the Author:

Born in Nigeria, West Africa, as the daughter of missionaries, Harriet E. Michael is a writer, gardener, wife of over 35 years, mother of four, and grandmother of one.

She holds a BS in nursing from West Virginia University but has discovered her passion for writing. Since her first published article in 2010, she now has over a hundred and fifty published articles and devotions.

You can learn more about Harriet on her author page at the Write Integrity Press website: www.WriteIntegrity.com

Curry Recipe: 
(for 6 people)

Boil 3-4 chicken breasts in 8 cups of water along with 1-2 tsp curry powder, ½ tsp thyme, ¼ cup dried onions (onion flakes), and salt & pepper to taste.

Boil until chicken is very tender. Take chicken out and either cut it into bit size pieces or shred it. (Do not discard the water!)

Put chicken pieces back in the pot. Add a flour/cold water mixture that has been thoroughly whisked together. (This is to thicken the water. I got the recipe from my mother and she did not give specific amounts for this water/ flour mixture.)

Bring back to a boil and add 2 chicken bouillon cubes. May need to add water to keep the soupy sauce to about 8 cups.

Serve over rice with additional foods on top including: chopped fresh onion, chopped celery, chopped tomatoes, chopped up hard-boiled eggs, peanuts, friend okra, chopped oranges, grapefruit, fresh pineapple, and coconut.

We place all these other food options in small dishes and people can choose what they like for on top of their curry and rice. Though it may seem hard to believe, the combined tastes of these various foods is amazing!

12 Books of Christmas:

You can win a copy of Harriet's Bible Study, PRAYER: IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU, as part of our 12 Books of Christmas contest. Leave a comment below with your email address (US residents only). Your email address will also be added to our monthly newsletter list. (Unsubscribe anytime.) While you're commenting, share a memory of a unique food that graces your Christmas dinner.

The Secret of My Birth by Harriet E. Michael

I had a very different childhood from many of you who. I was born in Nigeria, West Africa in the late 1950’s (yes, I’m that old, and I’m ok with it.) My memories of life in Africa are filled with running barefoot on hot days, the smell of the tropical rains, strange animals, that didn’t seem so strange at the time, and people with an assortment of skin colors pouring their love on me.

Joinkrama, where I was born, is located in what was then the Eastern Region of Nigeria but is today called “Rivers State” in the Niger River delta. Joinkrama is located in the small part of Nigeria that is in the tropical rain forest. It is an area of jungles. There were monkeys swinging in the trees outside of my house, elephants that occasionally tromped close enough to the village to be a danger to the villagers, and crocodiles in the river. The buildings were raised, for the occasions when the river overflowed its banks. It was in this remote part of the African jungle that I was born.

There are two stories about my birth …
One story has it that when my mother went in labor with me, she walked down a little jungle path to the hospital with my brother and sister in tow. According to this story, my father delivered me at the hospital and then sent us back to convalesce at home. My mother was sent home on a stretcher with me in her arms, carried by four men. Seeing us carried like that, the villagers assumed we had both died and began to weep and wail! Realizing what they thought, my mother quickly sat up, smiled, and waved so the people could see she was alive. Then, she lifted me up for them to see as well. The people’s weeping turned into dancing (literally) and they followed us home in a joyful procession! –that’s one story.

But my dad told me the other story when I was a little girl.
Daddy told me that the stork was on his way to London, England—to Buckingham palace—carrying in his beak the newest member of the royal family, a little princess. (Me, of course!) Unfortunately, he developed hiccups, just as he was flying in the airspace above Joinkrama. ... I don’t know where the stork lives, but apparently to get to London, it involves a trip over the Niger River delta. Overcome by one giant hiccup, the stork did something he had never done before—he dropped his bundle!

My father told me that he just happened to be walking home down that little jungle path when a bundle fell from the sky right into his arms! He said he knew immediately what had happened! …Now, my father never explained just how he knew all about the royal family, the stork’s hiccups, and so on, but my father is a man of integrity so I never doubted his story!
“So you see” my father would conclude, “You are really a princess!”

According to the Bible, I really am a princess!! I am a child of the King!
“The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God, and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with Him.” Romans 8:16-18

About the Author:

Born in Nigeria, West Africa, as the daughter of missionaries, Harriet Michael is a writer, gardener, wife of over 35 years, mother of four, and grandmother of one.

She holds a BS in nursing from West Virginia University but has discovered her passion for writing. Since her first published article in 2010, she now has over a hundred and fifty published articles and devotions.

Harriet is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Louisville Christian Writers. Her book, Prayer: It’s Not About You, a finalist in the 2011 Women of Faith book contest, is available at Amazon.

Follow her on:

Website: www.harrietemichael.com 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/harrietmichaelauthor

Blog: www.whatHehasdoneformysoul.blogspot.com

Road Trips: Her Poor Brother!

My Poor Brother!

by Harriet Michael

The Nigerian roads I grew up accustomed to were usually unpaved, bumpy, and challenging. Memories of strange and interesting occurrences traveling those roads flood my mind when I think of my childhood road trips.

There was the time we headed north on our local leave (the term the missionaries used for vacation.) Traffic came to a stand still at the old Jebba Bridge. This was before it was replaced in the 1970’s with a four lane bridge much better equipped to handle traffic flow. Back then it was a long two lane bridge over the beautiful Niger River. After waiting for over an hour, my father walked ahead to see if he could get a closer look and discover the problem. After a while he returned and informed us that a group of nomad cattlemen had been walking their herd over the bridge when a cow died. They were in the process of dragging the dead cow off and then trying to get the rest of the herd across and, well, that takes time.

Other road trips were memorable for better reasons. My father stopped once when he spied a beautiful wild orchid in full bloom growing near the road. The whole family piled out of the car to marvel at its beauty.

But usually, trips were long, hot, and uncomfortable. The worst was a time my family’s trip involved covering extremely difficult terrain. Mom and Dad sat in the front and my siblings and I in the back with my brother by the window. After a while, my younger sister, who was prone to motion sickness, felt nausea coming on. She stretched her body across my brother trying to get her head to the window but did not quite make it and threw up on him.

We stopped the car. My parents gave my sick sister Dramamine, cleaned him as best as they could and moved her to the front seat with them. We piled back on the road, my brother still claiming the window. But in a bit, we had Act II when feeling sick, my older sister tried to put her head out his window but also did not make it.

Again we stopped. After cleaning both of them and giving her Dramamine too, we started out again with my brother announcing that he wanted me next to him because I never got motion sickness. His statement was true–except for that one time. Soon enough we had Act III with me trying to reach his window and not making it.

Then we rearranged the seating yet again. This time my parents decided to put all three sick, sleepy girls in the back and let my brother sit in the front between them. On his lap, he held the family dog which he had held most of the trip. Guess what happened next? Soon, the dog got sick on my brother too.

It was not funny at the time but it has been a hilarious family tale ever since. We still laugh at the time everyone including the dog got sick on my poor brother.

****

Born in Nigeria, West Africa, as the daughter of missionaries, Harriet E. Michael is a writer, gardener, wife of over 35 years, mother of four, and grandmother of one.

She holds a BS in nursing from West Virginia University but has discovered her passion for writing. Since her first published article in 2010, she now has over a hundred and fifty published articles and devotions.

Harriet is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Louisville Christian Writers. Her book, “Prayer: It’s Not About You,”a finalist in the 2011 Women of Faith book contest, is set for release in September, 2015 by Pix-N-Pens Publishing Company.

Follow her on:

Website, Facebook, Blog

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