Christmas Issue
Christmas greetings from the Whitney family! Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
We close 2002 in amazement that we're beginning our eighth year in Kansas City. It's hard to believe that we've been here half as long as we were in Chicagoland. I've turned in my grades for the fall semester and started preparing to preach at a conference in England in a few days (please pray for that as you think of it).
During last year's warm winter I did something I've never done before—mowed the yard in December. This year I also did something I've never done before—watered the yard during Christmas week. On Christmas Eve we're expected to tie the longest drought in Kansas City history—forty days without any precipitation. No rain is in the long-range forecast, either. "Lord, please send us rain."
Well, I suppose you can see the family photo by now. I know what you're thinking, so I'll explain the beard when you get to the end of the page.
Caffy has enjoyed participating in a book discussion group. This fall they fellowshipped around John Piper's Desiring God. The big project in the home at present is a Trompe l'oeil (that is, a painting that create an illusion of three dimensional space) wall mural in the bathroom. She's decorated the home for Christmas as only she can, including an inviting trim of icicle lights outside. A small bundle of colored lights has taken the place of flowers in the legendary flower boxes.
Laurelen turns nine on the day after Christmas. In addition to her home schooling, she's been attending Christ Preparatory Academy one day a week. Her favorite classes there have been art and creative writing. We've been impressed by the writing skills she's displayed—much better than those of her parents when they were in the fourth grade. To encourage her writing (not to mention her penmanship, or must we now say penwomanship?), I bought her a fountain pen for Christmas. She's continued her piano lessons and has been playing more for enjoyment—and not just for practice—than before. Apparently Laurelen's teacher has had her working a lot on minor keys and transposing lately, for this morning strains of Alouetta filled the home in several keys. Try to imagine Alouetta as a sad song, or being played to accompany a poignant scene in a silent movie, and you get an idea of what we're hearing.
Okay, now regarding my increasingly hirsute appearance. Caffy has been urging me to grow a beard for a long time, especially in the past few months. But since I am preaching in a different church nearly every Sunday, I always had a ready answer.
"I can't go as a guest preacher to a church and have a scruffy new growth of beard!"
"You're not preaching anywhere except our church this month," Caffy said in early December, "and they don't care if you have a beard or not."
The photo tells you who won out. What you see is a little over two weeks' growth. Hey! Is that a gray hair in one of my eyebrows? Oh, no!
The beard doesn't help me look like a man still in his forties, does it? And I'm sure that now I'll be mistaken even more frequently for Laurelen's grandfather. But both girls like the beard, so for now, there it is.
We thank the Lord for laughter and for family, two wonderful gifts from Him "who richly supplies us with all things to enjoy" (1 Timothy 6:17). Most of all, "Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift," the Lord Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 9:15).
