Journey to The Future

When you think about the future, are you filled with excitement or dread?  What’s really waiting for us?  Can we know?

i invite you to take a trip with me to your future!

An Alien Scout’s Report About Christmas

If we were an observer from another planet, we might agree that humans reach a whole new level of strange behavior that defies explanation during what we call the Christmas season.

The following is the report of an alien scout to his commander.

This is the strangest place I have yet visited. As you know, you sent me to earth to observe humans during what they call the Christmas season.

Since you sent me here at the height of what is supposed to be the most joyous season, I had great hopes of seeing a level of Peace and Joy that might even exceed that on our planet.  So far, peace and joy seem in short supply.

The life forms here apparently limit some of the most joyful music to only certain times of the year. To play their “December music” in any other month but late November or December is considered unusual.

Their Christmas music is a very odd assortment. They play songs every year sung by people who died years ago. I have not actually seen these dead people in the flesh.  But they have somehow captured and preserved their likenesses and voices. It’s a little creepy, but we might want to explore how they are doing this.

They play these Christmas songs everywhere, on radios, on tvs, in stores, even on the streets. Even those seeking shelter in their own homes are often sought out, so they can be exposed to the music. I think it may be a form of mind control.

The music seems to affect humans differently. Some seem happy and even peaceful. Some seem agitated.

I’ve looked for some of the ones they sing about. But so far I have not been able to identify them.

These humans seem to truly honor reindeer. They have reindeer statues on their lawns. They sing about one with a red nose. He seems to have been a real hero.

I tried to get a glimpse of these creatures by waiting at a place where they are supposed to cross the road. It was clearly marked “deer crossing,” but these creatures must be quite independent. None ever came. I shall continue to look.

The humans also put a lot of emphasis on someone they call Santa Clause. At first I thought he was the head reindeer, but he apparently is some advanced human life form.  

He can do things other humans cannot do. He apparently cannot fly himself, but he commands some of the reindeer who can fly.

He has some magic power that all the thicker humans wish they had. He eats constantly, mainly a diet of cookies and milk. He is rather thick around the middle, but is able to deflate himself and be skinny enough to slide down chimneys.

The humans hold him in such high esteem that they dress like him and give gifts in his name.

I have also noted another very puzzling practice of these life forms. They decorate their houses inside and out during the Christmas season. But as soon as the season ends and it is the darkest time of the year, they turn off the lights and take down the decorations. Very strange indeed.

They also argue a lot about what is a proper way to greet each other in this season. Instead of just saying “hello,” they insist on a special greeting during the season.

Some insist on saying, “Merry Christmas” while others say, “Happy Holidays.” Both sound pretty close to what they call “merry” here, but apparently the argument has something to do with a baby named Jesus.

I have tried to research Him, since apparently He also fits somewhere in this season on planet earth.

I asked many humans about Him. Many were too busy to answer me. Some tried to explain. They often used the same phrases, but I did not understand.

I asked a small human if she knew where to find out more and she said the strangest thing of all. She told me to ask Him directly.

When I asked her where to find Him, she told me He was in my heart. I don’t understand.

Can you send me further instructions? Who is this Jesus? How do I find Him?

In due time the scout received an Answer. It didn’t come from the planet commander. It came from The Grand Commander of The Universe.

I AM called

    Wonderful Counselor, 

Mighty God,

    Everlasting Father, 

Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

I am the Alpha and the Omega,

Who is, and 

Who was, and 

Who is to come, 

The Almighty.

Revelation 1:8

You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29:13

And so it was that the scout learned about Love, Joy and Peace … and the true meaning of Christmas.


Journey To Christmas Past

Pregnancy — Planned or Not?

Is any pregnancy unplanned?  Some pregnancies are unplanned by humans.  But it is God Who creates a Life and He has a Plan for every life He creates.

Mary thought she had a plan for her life.  But God had The Plan, and as promised, it was a Good Plan.

I invite you to join me as we share in the birth announcement delivered to Mary.

Is Christmas Really Real?

Is Christmas really real?  Is it a Christian celebration?  Was Jesus really born on December 25?  Does it matter?

How should we celebrate Christmas?  Sometimes the answer comes from a little child.

i invite you to explore the answers to these questions and more in my video, Is Christmas Really Real?

The Gift

When God gives a Gift or a calling, He never takes it back.  We can try to ignore it, set it aside or look at it , but never unwrap it.

But it is ours.

i invite you to watch the You Tube video that introduces the upcoming advent video series.  It began “once upon a time” when a little girl had a dream.  It continued until in the fullness of time, God brought that dream to life through a remarkable Gift.

Attitude of Gratitude

I was raised by two parents, who had a consistent attitude of gratitude.

By the time they reached the end of their lives in their 90s, it was just first nature to thank and praise God for everything.

When my mother lay near death in the hospital after a car accident, my niece and I prayed at her bedside, begging God to heal her.

Right in the middle of our petitions, we were interrupted by a weak voice, that crescendoed with every word into a beautiful song of praise and Thanksgiving.

My mother thanked God for my father, my brother and me, our spouses, our children, their children, the care team in the hospital and on and on.  She thanked God for the life He had allowed her to live.  She thanked Him for His Provision and Protection.  She thanked Him that He had a Plan and it was a good one.

Her prayers of thanksgiving carried her into a restful sleep and left my niece and I bathed in the oil of gladness.

As a child, when I awoke every morning, I would find my mother kneeling by her bed in prayer.  My father would be kneeling by the chair in the living room.  In thinking about the short prayers I knew, I once asked my father why it took him so long to pray.

He chuckled and said, “Carolyn, it would take more than 24 hours a day to thank God for our many blessings.”

My father’s heart overflowed with a love so great, it seemed the older he got, the more he felt the urge to fully express that love.  He told us not only that he loved us, but he loved us “with all his heart.”  Near the end of his life, he added, “And I really mean that!”

When he expressed thanks to God for even the smallest thing, he would say with great Joy, “Thank The Lord over and over and over again.”  His Cup of Appreciation overflowed.  He clearly received Joy in giving thanks.

My father also developed the interesting habit of thanking people three times.  After he died, one of the nurses at the nursing home said, “The thing I will remember most about your father is how good he made me feel when he thanked me for doing anything for him.”

Another nurse added, “And he always did it three times.”  Together they said, “Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.”  And I repeated, “Thank you for taking such good care of my Daddy.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.”  I am sure Daddy smiled.

And what about things that were disastrous?  How did they handle that?  As I whined and complained about something negative that happened, my mother would say, “Isn’t God’s Timing wonderful?  Aren’t you glad that didn’t happen at the same time as …?”  And she would remember another difficult time.  Somehow I did end up thanking God.

When I complained about something not happening on my time table, my parents would tell me to thank God for delays.  They reminded me the world runs on God’s Time, not my time.  Later, when I processed that by being delayed leaving home, I missed being in a place of danger, I thanked God.

If I complained about eating something I did not like, my parents simply countered with thanksgiving we had food to eat and that we had never gone hungry.

When my father planted a garden with many things he did not eat, I was puzzled.  He simply said, “I thank God for letting me help Him provide for other people.  It’s a Blessing to have something to share with others.”

When I lived far away from my parents and I missed them, I could tell they missed me too.  But they said, “We are so thankful we can write letters and talk on the phone.”

When those we loved died, they grieved.  But through their tears, they said, “Thank God they are at Home with The Lord.  And we are with The Lord too.  Thank God He keeps us connected.”

 My parents lived lives of Thanks Giving and planted the seeds of gratitude within me.  Their lives were a testimony to a great Truth.  Thanksgiving is just a day.  True Thanks Giving is a way of Life that gives Life!


What Senior Citizens Want You To Know

As I complete another trip around the sun, I find myself reflecting on both the joys and challenges of getting older.  Now that I have been promoted into the more advanced levels of this thing called Life, I have the frequent urge to share what I have learned with my younger traveling companions.

When I was younger, I did not understand all the things I now do about relating to older people.  As a part of my desire to share wisdom (and also in the hope you will treat us right), I now share what we seniors would like you to know.

We don’t appreciate your predictions of doom about our future.  Please no jokes about dentures, incontinence, wheelchairs and forgetting things.  Not funny at any age.

Don’t tell us we look good “for our age.”  Keep the compliment to “you look good.”

If you want to know how old we are, ask.  If we want you to know, we will tell you.  If we don’t want you to know, we won’t tell you.  And we may be bold enough to question why you are asking.

Don’t insult our intelligence by asking questions that try to get at figuring out how old we are.  Example, “How old were you when you moved here?  How many years have you lived here?”  

We have the urge to say things like “I was eight when I got my bunny.  Then I was fifteen when the Smiths moved next door.  I graduated from college with a 4.0.  I got married five years after that …”. And we can keep the filibuster going indefinitely without ever really getting to our age.  The question is whether you can keep up! 

When people want too much information, we give it to them.    But we control the content.  An answer of too much information works every time.

Accept that we may tell you the same story many times.  No eye rolling, sighing and saying, “You already told me that a hundred times already.”  It is not always that we have forgotten we told you.  

We simply enjoy going back in time and having you as a traveling companion.  Come with us one more time.  You may learn something new about the places we’ve been and the things we have done.  

We may want to tell you about people you never had the opportunity to meet.  The best way to keep someone’s memory alive is by remembering them.  And we are happy to “introduce them” to you by talking about them.

Accept that we may tell you about the bad times too.  It’s not that we enjoy going back there.  Sometimes we are still trying to figure out the lessons life taught us.  Sometimes we are still trying to “mine the gold” and it’s tough!  Sometimes we want to share what we learned so you don’t make the same mistakes.

Let us give you advice.  You can take it or leave it, but we enjoy the feeling of passing the baton on to those who may benefit from what we learned.  We like the feeling of investing in a future we may not see.

Give us a minute to access the files in our brain.  It’s not that we have forgotten everything.  It’s simply that we have more things stored in the filing cabinet of our brain and it may take us a minute to pull out the right file.

Be patient with a little rambling.  If we come across something on the way to pulling the right file, we may want to digress a minute and tell you about it.  We are not confused.  You just need to keep up when we switch topics!

Do not make comments about how slow we drive and we will not comment on how fast you drive.  Most of us have lived long enough to witness accidents and we don’t want to be in one of them.  

We already had our days of living dangerously.  We now know how fragile life is and how everything can change in a second.  We value the years we have collected and we are not ready to cash in our chips yet just to try to get to the store ten minutes earlier.  Besides that, we want to go slow enough to enjoy  the scenery.

And yes, we are secure enough to know our car horn works.  We don’t need to test it every few minutes like you do.

Do not “help” us unless we ask or obviously need help.  We value being independent.  We don’t like even the appearance that we can’t take care of ourselves.  If we stumble, see if we can right ourselves before you grab us by the arm.  If we “miss our mouth,” tell us discreetly.  Don’t reach over and wipe as if we were a child.  We will give you the same courtesy.

On the flip side, be patient with our asking for your help.  Sometimes you may think we are being overly dependent or whiney.  But really we may be testing whether you will be there if we do need you.  Reassure us not just with a promise for the future, but by indulging us a little now.

Listen to us tell you about our present day life.  It may not sound as exciting to you as your life, but it is our life and it is important.  We are not just sitting here waiting to die.  We are living.  Going to the store, visiting a neighbor, looking at the flower bed are the adventures of our life.

Understand we, like everyone, need to express grief over our losses.  We are at the stage of life where we know, short of a miracle, we will never get to do some things again.  That makes us sad.   What you see as whining is actually grieving.  Acknowledge the pain is real, let us talk it out and shed a tear or two.

When we get to the place where we have to accept your help, understand we appreciate all you do for us.  But also know the appreciation is mixed with a sadness that we can no longer do it ourselves.  Look for ways we can participate instead of completely sidelining us.

Don’t overemphasize who we used to be.  That makes us sound as if we are not that person now.  We are the same person, but in a different life.  Feel free to ask us about the activities of our past, but acknowledge who we are right now.

Let us express our uniqueness and don’t be embarrassed by how we do it.  Some of us lived with teenagers with purple hair, body piercings and tats, and smiled at their creativity.  Now we may want to be a little wild ourselves.  Whether it’s going to Walmart with curlers in our hair or wearing a little more makeup than you think we need, it’s all good.

Know that we may talk about dying.  It’s not that we are morbid.  But we have a lot of family and friends who have already gone to the other side, and we are anticipating joining them soon.  Don’t deny us the anticipation of reality.  It’s a simple fact.  The young may die.  The old must die.  Help us pack our bags at our own pace.

Don’t tell us to “act our age.”  We’ve never been this age before.  It’s an adventure yet to be explored!


The Other Side of Death Is LIFE!

September 11 will always prompt memories of the lives that were forever changed on that day.  Most of our memories focus on those whose lives were lost, those who lost family and friends, or perhaps where we were on that day.

Our memories come with emotion.  We may feel grief, anger or fear.  We may avoid thinking about what it was like for those we call victims of that day.  But were they victims?  

In this blog posting, I encourage you to consider what it is like to meet Jesus up close and personal. 

It always intrigued me that Peter, Andrew, James and John, when called by Jesus, at once left their nets and followed Him.  No good byes to the family.  No hanging around to take a shower and pack.  They left their nets at once and followed Him.

Why would they do that?  Was it their own impulsiveness?  Was it the call of adventure that seemed more appealing than the monotonous life they were living?  Or was it Jesus Himself who drew them in?

I believe it was simply Jesus.  He called to them with The Voice they recognized and all they wanted to do was to be with Him wherever He was.

I believe it is the same for all Who hear Jesus’ Call to join Him in the deeper reaches of Eternity.

Jesus said, “My sheep respond to my voice, and I know who they are. They follow Me, and I give them eternal life. They will never be lost, and no one will tear them away from Me.”

John 10:27 (God’s Word)

Read that again! Give it time to sink in.  No matter what the exit plan from earth is, we will not go as victims.  We will not be lost.  We will be safe.  No one can snatch us away from Jesus.

When He calls, the world around us will fade away.  We will hear only His Voice, The Voice of Love, The Love that created us and carried us, The Love That was with us always and ever shall be.

We will be absorbed into His Wonderful Presence.  We will simply want to be with Him wherever He is.

Movies and tv shows often depict angels as escorting us to our heavenly home.  There is some biblical basis for that.  However, I love what Jesus Himself said about our journey home.  He said He was preparing a place for us and when it is time, He Himself will escort us there.  (John 14:3)

What did those who died on September 11, 2001 experience that morning?  We don’t know for sure.  But when I was praying about it, The Lord gave me a song.

I will share the lyrics here.  Feel free to share with others.  The words and music are copyrighted  by me.  If you share separately from this blog, please note it is written by me.

I’m With Jesus!

© 2001 Carolyn Priester Jones 

Lyrics and Music


I was working on that morning.

My cup of coffee was half gone.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle breeze.

I turned around to see …

And to my surprise, it was Jesus!

He was standing there with me!




Standing there with me!


Plain as He could be!


He told me not to fear!

He said,

“Follow Me.  We’re leavin’ here!”


Others might have been calling,

But I heard only Him.

There might have been other noise.

I’m not sure what might have been.

I just knew …



It was Jesus!

And there was no pain!

Me and Jesus!

We walked and talked again!


He showed The Way to me!

And we walked right through that stormy sea!


In a world I left behind,

the headlines might have read

That all of us had perished …

that all of us were dead.

But they would have been so wrong

‘cause I’m more alive than then!

I walk the streets of Glory,

and I walk here with my Friend!



I’m with Jesus!

What a Glorious Sight!

I KNOW Jesus!

And everything’s so right.

I HEAR Jesus!

like I never did before!

I’ve had JOY since

we walked through Life’s door!


Very truly I tell you,

whoever obeys My Word

will never see death.

John 8:51 (NIV)


How Much Should I Pay For My Heart?

To listen to the audio blog posting, click here.

When I was 18 months old, I had a fall that resulted in my two front baby teeth being knocked out.  My parents were told my permanent teeth would be fine, but they weren’t.  They came in crooked and deformed.  The roots had been damaged.  They had to be pulled.  I was probably the only child in my elementary school who had dentures.

Additionally, I was very nearsighted.  I started wearing glasses before I started to school.  I was the only child in my class who wore glasses.

My parents were plenteous in Love, but short on money.  I never wanted for anything, but I was aware that my parents had to watch every penny.  I had clean, nicely pressed clothes, but many of them were handed down to me from family or friends.  It was a little embarrassing when an older friend would say in front of others, “Hey, you’re wearing my dress!”

I was shy, sensing I was different from others in my class.  However, that did not stop me from dreaming of a time when I would be the object of admiration, not teasing or whispered jeers.

I thought my time to shine might have come the day the teacher very excitedly told us about a new contest the school was having.  It was a fund raiser the PTA had orchestrated.

Each class would have a king and queen.  Then a king and queen would be selected from the pool of candidates to become king and queen of the whole school.  And the best part was that the king and queen would not be selected based on their looks.

My ugly duckling heart soared.  Each of us was given a big jar.  All we had to do was collect money and fill the jars.  The girl and boy who collected the most money would be the queen and king.

I ran home that day, bursting with excitement.  I told my parents I was going to be the queen of my class and maybe of the whole school!  My mother looked very sad.  My father looked frankly horrified.  They looked at me, then at each other, and back at me again.

Finally my mother spoke.

“Carolyn, where were you planning to get the money?”

I hadn’t exactly figured that part out yet.

“I guess, I’d get some from you, and maybe some from my aunt.  And I can take my jar to church.”

My father then spoke.  “So you are planning to beg for money.”

Even though I was in the second grade, I knew how to make a case.

“It’s not begging, Daddy.  I’m just asking for donations.”

My mother spoke again.

“Carolyn, you do know you are beautiful, don’t you?  You don’t need to be a queen.  Knowing you are beautiful comes from the inside of you, not the outside.”

I began to cry.  My dream was being destroyed.  My parents did not understand.  How could I ever be sure I was pretty if no one but my parents told me so?

The silence that followed was only broken by my sobs.  Finally my father said firmly, “You can put that jar away because you are not going out to beg.  We’ll put a little something in it, but that’s all.”

And then he turned to my mother and said, “Pearl, call the teacher and see what this is all about.”

I feel sure my parents protested the school’s fund raising tactics.  I spent a very gloomy couple of weeks, as my jar remained empty and the other kids showed off their jars that were filling up with coins.

The night before everyone was to turn in their jars, my mother came into my room.  She had her coin purse.  She dumped everything she had into my jar.  Even though she had given all she had to give, the coins in the jar only seemed to emphasize how much was not in the jar.

I think I managed a weak thank you, but she knew my heart was broken.

“Carolyn, there will be many times in your life when people will try to get you to give them something to tell you that you are pretty, smart, or part of their group.

“If you have to pay them to get it, it’s not worth it and it’s not real.  

“Your heart is like this jar.  It deserves to be full, but you must be very careful about who you ask to fill it.

“God is the only One Who can really fill your heart.  When He tells you are beautiful, you can believe Him.  And you won’t have to pay Him to say it.”

I tried to understand, but I could only see that big jar and how little was in it.  If I had had a choice, I would have skipped school the next day.

Everyone came in, showing off their full or nearly full jar.  And then there was mine.  I had one friend, in similar economic state to me.  Her jar was about half full.  Her parents had not approved her begging either, but she came from a large extended family who had contributed to the cause.

She looked at my jar.  Without saying anything negative, she simply reached into her jar and said, “Here.  Let me give you some more.”

I could not explain it then, but looking back now, I can see that my heart began to fill at that moment.  Neither of us became queen that day, but we each felt beautiful in our own way.  She was rich, because she had enough to give and was willing to share it.  I was rich because she counted me worthy to receive from her.

And I was blessed by two parents who refused to let me try to buy love and affirmation.  They taught me it comes from the inside and God keeps filling as long as we share with others.

There have been many times in life when I was offered love and acceptance with a price tag.  Unfortunately sometimes I was weak and I succumbed.  I paid.  I regretted it.  I repented.  I started again.

Empty jars remind me, even now, to guard my heart.  It’s not for sale.  It’s a Precious Gift from God and He will fill it up! 

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

Proverbs 4:23

You are chosen.

“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you.”

John 15:16

God chose you.  

You are beautiful.

“For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”

Ephesians 2:10