Christmas Story : A Christian Carol

A CHRISTIAN CAROL

“I don’t care what you have to do, Mr. Cravachek, I want that front lawn mowed and raked today. Either see that it is done or do it yourself. Do I make myself clear? You are not the first nor will you be the last associate pastor I have hired and fired.” Pastor Rooge exclaimed in anger. The small church was known for it’s humanitarian work during the Christmas Holidays and during times of community disasters.

Pastor Rooge was a very demanding man who was a third generation minister. His father was a God’s Brigade pastor until his death in 1978 and was a very harsh man with rigid ways like his son. Many days Pastor Norman Rooge would become angry and without warning lash out. As Robert Cravachek carried out his assignment, his heart was heavy. When he had applied for entrance in the God’s Brigade seminary, he felt led to be a pastor that would make a difference. He felt that his calling was of God, but since coming here to this small outpost, Pastor Rooge had all but broken his spirit. Time and time again Robert had seen Pastor Rooge lose his temper and lash out at his employees uncontrollably. How could God tolerate such a man calling himself a man of God when his heart seemed so cold? This question would have to be left to the Lord since Robert knew he must be obedient to the governing structure of the church to complete his internship here.

Pastor Rooge walked briskly down the freshly painted white hallway to his plush office to call the church accountant about the balance in the indigent account. If the budget would allow, he planned to transfer funds he considered surplus to the transportation fund. After all, that van he was driving was five years old and it was high time he looked into something with a little more comfort for his long trips to headquarters in Atlanta. As he lifted the receiver there was a knock on the archway of his office door. “Pastor, excuse me but we have a young married couple in my office that are stranded here on their way to a job in Florida. They have a two-month old son with them and they have not eaten since yesterday. Is their anyway we can help them sir?” humbly asked the associate Pastor Cravachek. “I told you there were no more funds for this month Mr. Cravachek. Obviously you do not chose to listen to me.” Yelled the half-startled Pastor. “But sir, these young people have a young child that must be cared for. Are we not supposed to show our fellow man compassion and help them as Jesus would help them?” replied the now frustrated associate. “Mr. Cavachek, when we set up this fund you were told how much we were to give out per month. We met that obligation today at 10:00 am and are not in a position to give out one dime more. Now I am busy and one more word will get you a letter of insubordination to Atlanta. Do I make myself clear?” said Pastor Rooge as he shook with fury. “Yes sir, Pastor Rooge, I am sorry to have bothered you sir.” Was the weak reply of Robert as he turned and walked away taking his wallet from his back pocket and removed the only money he had to give to the needy couple.

Robert could not believe his ears. Pastor Rooge professed to be such a great man of God and yet on Christmas Eve he did not even try to help these poor people, these way ward children of the Lord. Robert gave the small bills to the couple and told them of a house he knew of that was a dry place to stay until he could do the paper work. He would come down and get them when Pastor Rooge was gone. One day he thought, one day Pastor Rooge will be held accountable for the greed and coldness he displays. One day this man will have to give an account of his life and God will be his judge. But today Robert was going to help these people and then rush home to his young bride and daughter. After all, it was Christmas Eve and on his meager salary there was barely enough to have a Christmas ham, much less nice gifts but he did get to go to Dollar Heaven and buy a few inexpensive gifts to put beneath the tree. He would just enjoy the three long days of Christmas magic with his family and thank his Lord for his birth and goodness.

Pastor Rooge got off the phone in somewhat a better mood. The accountant said there was some twenty-two thousand dollars left over in this year’s indigent budget and it would be possible to transfer it next week. Well time to end a perfect day with a heart rendering message to the people that donated this year to the indigent fund and to wish them all a Merry Christmas. It would only take about thirty minutes to record down at the local TV station and they would play if until after New Years. That would most certainly get a few more thousand donations to top off a great year. Why the Pastor even thought he would incorporate that little thank you speech into his old sermon from last Christmas that he planned to give this Sunday. That would dress it up a bit so no one would recognize it.


It was nearly 8:00 when the weary Pastor arrived home from his daily deluge of activity. His wife Janice was already in bed for the night and he was glad. She had always so many questions of how his day went and he was not in the mood to answer them tonight. He reached into the warm oven, took out his dried out fried chicken dinner and went into his study to go over his budget for next year. As he finished the figures on monthly indigent expenditures, he dropped his pen and his head sank slowly to the desktop. He had only been asleep for thirty minutes when the Queen Anne clock on the wall began to chime. On the third chime Pastor Rooge awakened, at first startled and then his eyes began to focus. Standing in front of his finely carved mahogany desk was a rather large glowing figure of a being. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house sir?” shrieked the startled pastor. “Norman Rooge, I am an Angel sent of God. I have been sent to you by my Lord to warn you of your impending doom if you continue the course you have chosen in God’s name” spoke the mighty Angel of the Lord. “The Lord Jesus came to you this day, and you turned him away. He asked of you for food to eat and for a place to stay. You told him you had no more allotted money for food or lodging for indigent persons. Many chances this day he gave you and yet you would show him no mercy. Today the Great God Jehovah has granted you a gift. In the name of my Lord, so be it” shouted the angelic being and as suddenly as he had appeared he was gone. Norman screamed “Wait, what is it I am to receive? Am I to be judged tonight? Angel where are you? “ blurted out an anxious and frightened Norman Rooge.

Suddenly there was a blinding bolt of lightning through the air and as Norman shielded his eyes and turned away, he slowly removed his hands from his face and discovered he was now outside of the little mission church. The air was very windy and cold and the rain began to whip across his face and body. He must have come outside daydreaming and left his coat inside. He walked to the front door of the little building and walked to the reception desk. “Lucy, I seem to have forgotten my keys, buzz me in” said the aggravated pastor. “I am sorry sir, but you must have an appointment to come inside here and Pastor Cravacheck is not seeing anymore clients today. If you would like you can take a card and try again tomorrow,” Lucy said with a smile. “Lucy, I am the Pastor here now open up this door and let me in or you are fired Christmas or not” the furious Pastor replied. “Sir, let go of that door, I am calling the police right now and you will be picked up. Now get out of here right now. You can go down the street to the park and sleep it off you vagrant” Lucy responded as she lifted the receiver from the hook and began to dial. Pastor Rooge looked at his torn blue jeans and dirty short sleeve shirt and was in a state of shock for several minutes before he began to realize he had to do something. He threw open the little glass door and darted out into the cold pelting rain. He would go over to the church salvage store and see if they would be kind enough to give him a coat for the night until he could straighten this mess out.

As he entered the door, a little bell rang announcing his arrival. He walked over to the rough man at the counter with a cigarette hanging from his lip and asked in a pleading voice. “Darren, I need a coat for a day or two until I can straighten this mess out. Could I have that thick fleece lined one on that hook? I will bring the money back later” Norman pleaded. “Look buddy, I told you before, the boss said no more free-bees and that means no more free-bees. You got money, you gotcha self a coat. You ain’t got no money and you gotcha self a trip to the door. No exceptions. No money? I didn’t think so”. Darren bellowed as he grabbed Norman by the collar and tossed him into the street.

Norman was now cold and hungry as he walked along the back of the building looking for something to cover with. He reached down into the dumpster behind the little store and found a torn gray wool blanket that smelled as though it had been used in someone’s dog bed. It smelled rather rank but it served its purpose well as Norman cloaked it around his body. He continued to walk down the street to an old abandoned house he had passed for nearly two years on his way to work. The pains in his stomach were beginning to demand more attention now as he crawled through a broken window at the old leaky home. He found a corner where the rain seemed to miss and crouched down low, shivering as his blanket dripped puddles on the rotting floor. He looked up to the heavens and cried out from deep within his soul “Jesus, I’m sorry Lord, please forgive me. I know I was wrong and stold from you and your kingdom. Please Lord give me another chance, I will be a real pastor if that is what you want. I will take care of the poor just as you cared for them. Lord I will comfort and protect you children, if only you would give me another chance to do so. Jesus are you listening? Angel, are you still there? Dear God what have I done ?” Norman shrieked as he collapsed his head into his hands. Suddenly the winds and the rain stopped and Pastor Norman lifted his head to see the familiar surroundings of his little office. His Queen Anne clock still ticking away and with the gentle glow of his desk lamp. “ My Lord, you heard the cry of your sinful servant and you rescued me from my sins. I will serve you and rescue the lost sheep for the rest of my days. I will preach your word with passion and fire, for you are my redeemer and I am you child, your humble servant” Pastor Norman humbly said in a much different tone than a few hours ago.

Pastor was as good as his word. He got up from his desk, ran out to the little salvage store and picked up as many blankets and coats as the church van would carry. He then drove over to the food warehouse and loaded the front seat and floorboard with canned goods and meats from the freezers. Off he went singing and praising God to the top of his voice. His first stop was the Robert Cravacheck’s home. He would drop off a ham and some canned goods and of course a $100 bonus just for a start. Then to the old house where he knew he would find the young couple. After all it was Christmas and he could certainly afford to put them up for Christmas in a motel. In fact he knew where there were funds to help many more of God’s children. Hearing him talking under his breath, Robert Cravachek asked if he might help. Pastor Norman with tears in his eyes turned to the young associate pastor and said “my brother, I would be honored if you would accompany me while we do God’s work”. They got up into the van and drove off into the night singing and praising God. Today was the beginning of ministry for Norman Rooge. Today he heard the call of God.

Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © December 25,1998

Easter Poem- Crimson Flow

Crimson Flow
The crimson flow traveled down the tree
Dripping upon the earth for all the world to see.
Nail pierced hands did not cause this crimson flow.
Though the pain to bare alone was an awesome blow.

A spear pierced side allowed the water to pour
Mixing with the blood, the flow became more.
Upon the ground, the crimson red did soak.
Taking on from men a painful eternal yoke.

As the crimson spread from the replanted tree
The thunder roared loadly and hell’s locks exploded free.
Down from the hill the stream did rush,
Sickness and death this crimson stream did crush.

The crimson flow was power and Holy Fire
Setting the captives free, creating a Holy desire
So much flowing blood to come from just one man
To cover every soul and sweeping every land.

From Heaven this crimson flow did come,
It watered the earth, sprinkling all not some.
Flowing to hell by way of a grave,
Resurrected in three days all men to save.

Then ascending back up to heaven again,
Taking with it death and repented sin.
Jesus was God and then Jesus was man.
Salvation was for all when the crimson blood ran.

Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © March 13, 1999

Short Story: The Empty Manger

Charlie walked slowly down the roadside kicking loose stones, and humming Christmas Carols he had heard since he was a boy. “Here comes Santa Clause, here comes Santa Clause right down Santa Clause lane” he sang. As he walk he stared up at the flickering ornamental lights on the houses, Santa Clause and his eight tiny reindeer, snowmen with their magical top hats, elves and Christmas trees could be seen through the new snow flakes as they lightly fell. What a wonderful night to be walking around his neighborhood on a chilly Christmas Eve. Soon Charlie would go home to his wife and put the toys around the Christmas tree for his son Shaune and daughter Cindy to find in the morning. Charlie inhaled deeply of the smell of oak firewood burning in the fireplaces. As he watched the smoke from the cold flow out into the night air Charlie yelled out “ Now this is the true meaning of Christmas” as he twirled in circles.

Suddenly the lights all went out and the snows stopped falling. Charlie stood quietly somewhat shocked, hearing a sound behind him he spun around. In front of him stood a tall man dressed in a white suit with golden hair and a fluorescent kind of glow about him. “Charles, do you think that this is all that Christmas is?” the stranger asked. “I think that this is the reason we celebrate and not all that 2000 year old Christian fairy tale stuff” replied Charlie. “Well then Charles perhaps you need to see what the world would have been like had the Savior never come” said the Angel. Charlie unable to speak at first then blurted out “that is all just folk lure and no one really cares.” As the last word left his mouth like the launching bay of a nuclear missile the angel was gone. Suddenly Charlie felt all alone, really alone. The winds howled and the streetlights were all on but no Christmas lights were to be found. Instead the roads were full of debris and the houses were mostly old and run down. Screaming and yelling could be heard in the homes along the streets.

Charlie walked now briskly toward the small building he had called home for 12 years. When he got to the door, he grabbed the handle and pushed but strangely enough the door would not open. Suddenly a loud blast was heard and chips of wood flew from the dime size hole just created in the door causing Charlie to leap behind the shrubbery. A women came to the door in ragged clothes with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her lip and said “Hey bub… you wana good time, show me your money but don’t try to strong arm your way in here or your worm food.” Charlie recognized the women because it was his wife Sheila. “What in the world was happening here? Sheila you know who I am, I am your husband for crying out loud. Now stop this nonsense and let me in” Charlie shouted. Sheila quickly replied “ What are you some kinda escaped loon? One more step and I will give you a new hole to breath through” she screamed back as she slammed the door in Charlie’s face.

As Charlie turned he saw two men at the door of his neighbor Jim’s house taunting him to come out so they could have their way with him. Charlie was mortified with both anger and fear. And still across the street was Pastor Peter’s home and a group of boys beating poor Peter as he cussed them. Two of the boys went into Peter’s home and dragged his two teenage daughters out to the street. “Dear God what is happening here?” Shouted Charlie. Charlie was never much of a church going man. He went to church on Easter Sunday and maybe once or twice during the year and thought that was enough but now he needed to see a church and a pastor. Charlie ran down the street towards the Billingsville Assembly of God. When he arrived he found a Jewish Synagogue but no sign of the church. Charlie ran from street to street but there were no churches to be found anywhere in the town of Billingsville, only mosques and synagogues.

Charlie slowly shuffled down Main Street to where the live manger seen sat in front of the City Hall. That was always a place where Charlie could bring his family every year to marvel at the craftsmanship of the manger, stables, and Bethlehem Inn set upon the lawn of the City Hall. Tonight was a very different scene however. Tonight there was only a board with the name of accused enemies of the state. A large gallows with six ropes and a fresh coat of red paint with a sign above that read “ Enemies of Rome Network Channel 3. Your entertainment Network”. Charlie grabbed the old man sitting on the gallows and shook him. “Where is the manger, where is the baby Jesus, where are the animals?” Charlie yelled in desperation. The old man was startled for a moment and then began to scream out “HELP HELP… CENTURIANS HELP ME”. Charlie quickly let go and ran off down the icy road slipping and stumbling all the way to the Stallmart Department store. He quickly disappeared inside and began to look around.

On the shelves there were no toys or gifts. The Christmas trees and ornaments were gone from the shelves. No reindeer lighted Santa’s or angels, nothing but clothes, pornographic books and items of evil intention. In the center of the store was an auction that was in progress. In this auction were men women and children being sold like heads of cattle. “ Who will give me $1500 for this young female. She will be good for years of hard labor and pleasure to her master” yelled the auctioneer. Charlie quickly recognized her as a friend of his daughters and became ill as he rushed outside and collapsed to the grass. In front of him again was the tall stranger. He knelt down to Charlie in the ground and said “Are you still so sure Jesus didn’t mean anything Charles?” Charlie with tears in his eyes replied sobberly “ But this nation was founded by the people leaving spain and england to find freedom to worship as they pleased. I don’t understand this Roman stuff”. In a soft whispering voice the angel said “Charles that trip never happened. The Catholic church never developed, there were never any popes nor were there ever any Protestants. The world as you knew it was formed and molded with a basis on my Lord’s appearance on Earth. Since he never came, freedom never came, the United States was never founded, your constitution was never written and slavery was never abolished. Your sins were never forgiven, evil has been allowed to flourish and you still have the Adamic nature and will perish and burn in an everlasting hell.”

Getting back up Charlie began to cry “ Lord, I am so sorry for what I said. Please God give me another chance and I will always keep the birth of your son sacred. I didn’t mean it God, please send your son back to us I believe he was born and did die for my sins…please”. As he cried into his hands he began to feel the wet cold snow falling into his shirt collar. Charlie stood up and looked around the lights of Christmas were again sparkling in red, green, blue and yellow. With a huge smile on his face he screamed out to the top of his lungs “Hosanna in the highest. Thank you Father for sending us your Son.” Spinning and leaping Charlie headed down to the Billingsville Assembly of God were Pastor Peter was just beginning the watch night service. Charlie was praising and Glorifying God almost without catching a breath in between. Charlie had been given a gift tonight. He asked Pastor Peter if he could come down and give a testimony of what Christmas meant to him. The Pastor was delighted and then another and another spoke up. Charlie saw what it would have been like if Jesus had never come to the earth and the horror changed his life forever. Behind Charlie was a tall stranger in a white suit. He patted Charlie on the back and said “ well done Charlie and a very Merry Christmas to you ” as he disappeared into the night.

written by Terry L Richardson
copyright©Nov. 21, 2010

WAKE UP CHURCHES AND PATRIOTS !!!

Today is my day to rant a little so you liberals gather up a little spit for the screen and you conservatives get ready to say amen. For starters, everyone has an opinion and I am sure there will be those both ministers and heathen alike who will disagree with me but here goes. It’s time to get back to the basics. We have too many fat cat preachers driving $1000 designer suits, living in mega mansions, driving expensive imports worrying about losing their tax exempt status. Let them sell off their mansions, jets and luxury cars and get back to the job of the church again. The separation of church and state was not to protect the government from the church but to protect the church from the government. It’s time to tell the government to DROP the tax exempt status off the churches so that the churches can once again have a say so in our political arena. Without the governments tax exempt removal threats, the government HAS to listen to what the church has to say.

Secondly, every church with an attorney in its congregation needs to file a law suit AGAINST the ACLU. With thousands of law suits filed tying up their financial and human assets, you would break their financial back and down they would go. Once the ACLU is history, the CHRISTIAN MAJORITY can once again stand tall and have a voice without fear of a court room.

Third, every time you hear of a Tea Party close by, attend it. When every city in our nation has thousands of people in attendance, the politicians will take notice and begin backing down and yes even Bela Pelosi (ok for you young uns, that was a play on another blood sucker vampire star named Bela Lugosi) will have to take flight in the light of truth. (If that doesn’t work drive a stake through her heart)

Forth and last… GET INVOLVED!!!! Don’t sit on the side lines, get involved. We can’t wait for someone else to do it because we Americans have been conditioned to be lazy. We always thing someone else will step up and do it so we can keep watching our idiot tubes, play on our computers and android phones and keep our heads in the sand.

This week Mr. Obama decided to recite a portion of our Declaration of Indolence stating “We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal, endowed with certain inalienable rights, life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Notice something missing? He decided like so many times lately to remove our “Creator”. The correct sentence is “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain ... Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

"Freedom prospers when religion is vibrant and the rule of law under God is acknowledged."~Ronald Reagan There.... I feel better now.

Poem: Already a Part of the Wall

This poem is for all the many men and women who gave EVERYTHING to the service of their country in the Vietnam War.


Already Part of the Wall

Over 58,000 names and more to recall
All written in the granite of the Vietnam Wall
The names not seen, walking silent shells
Already part of the wall living personal hells.

Brian flew air cav delivering bodies of breath
Picking up silent silhouettes, a Huey of tragic death.
42 years of memories, a mind locked in a replay hall
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Clifton came back home in the year of 68
Safe away from the Nam but a little too late.
A door gunner issuing fifty cal balls
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Debra was a nurse, the 85th Evac staged near a battle line.
Piecing together shredded boys, ordered no tearing signs.
In 70 she came home, her mind in constant fall.
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Johnny was a blueleg, full of life and M-16 power he’d brag.
Two tours and wishing for death all friends sent home in a bag
Now living under a highway bridge, two blocks from the local mall.
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Over 58,000 names and still counting a faster crawl
All written in the granite of memories known as the Vietnam Wall
The names not seen, minds walking silent in a Nam so small.
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Written by Terry L Richardson
Copyright © July 18, 2010
Patriot Guard Rider
This poem dedicated to all the brave men and women
Who served in the Vietnam War.

Independence had a Price

Independence had a Price

So many American people think of July fourth
As a holiday away from work down south and up north
A time to gather friends together and cook burgers on the grill
A time to go boating at the beach, just another day off if you will.

But at what great price was this summer holiday given to us,
How many lives were worn out and lost over this freedom fuss.
Have we remembered that under God we as one great nation,
Took arms against Great Britain so we could have our liberation?

Why don’t we teach that Samuel Adams was to God a devoted man?
Ben Franklin’s established prayers before Congress to this day stand.
“This great nation was founded not by religionists but by Christians” Patrick Henry said.
“Not on religions but on the Gospel of Jesus Christ” were words that Patrick led.

On July 2,1776 General George Washington said in a letter written from our sod
“The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God
on the courage of this army !” words of a man not given to having faith in the earth.
But faith in an Almighty God and in Jesus Christ from this nation’s beginning birth.

In November of 1863 President Lincoln said in his Gettysburg Address
“This nation, under God shall have a new birth of freedom” he did confess.
When the Constitution of this great Nation separated church from state,
It was not to protect the State from our churches but the Churches from our State.

In 1781 Thomas Jefferson stated words that are written on his memorial in DC
This words that rings so true “God who gave us life, gave us Liberty”
Sir Isaac Newton wrote in 1704 these words that he knew in his heart for all to see
“There is one, God the Father, ever-living, omnipresent, omniscient, almighty,

“The maker of heaven and earth, and one Mediator between God and man,
the man Christ Jesus” that was what Sir Isaac Newton did understand.
On the death bed of Sir Walter Scott, he was asked which book to him be read.
He replied “Need you ask? There is but one! - St. John’s Gospel” Sir Walter said.

So on this July Fourth when you stand and watch the fire works celebration
Remember the great men of The United States of America that gave all for their great Nation.
Remember the men who fought and died, to keep this country free.
And the God that allowed us Victory over tyrants, because we came to him on bended knee.

Written By Terry L. Richardson © July 4, 1998

AWAKE AMERICA

AWAKE AMERICA

Awake America, from a slumber that’s grown cold
Your heart beats ever so slowly
Is your death very soon to unfold?

Awake America, your God is calling out your name.
Repent from your wicked ways,
Throw off your garments of shame.

Awake America, it is not too late to turn around.
The Lord God is waiting to forgive you.
Open your eyes that his face may be found.

Awake America, let the blood of Christ flow through your veins.
Stand up to your feet and hold steady.
Tell the world once again that your God reigns.

Awake America, as your forefathers before you did.
Founding this country for religious freedoms
Tearing it away from Satan’s tangled grid.

Awake America, please hear this humbled cry
If we don’t awaken from Satan’s lullaby singing
One nation under God will soon die.
Written by Terry L.Richardson
Copyright © Aug.2, 1999