Summary: Should Christians make a fuss over Christ and His birth?

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The Lord gave me this message this past Tuesday, while at a home school choir concert.

· I have to admit, the style of music that they sing is not what I normally listen to.

· Also, since Sis. Noel takes the kids to their weekly rehearsals, I didn’t know anyone there.

· And to top it off, there are only 4 Black homeschoolers in the choir and three of them had my last name.

So, needless to say, I felt kinda out of place, to say the least.

For whatever reason, I sat in the back of the church, even though there were other seats closer to the front. I regret this decision, with all of my heart.

· No, it’s not because I couldn’t see! (I could see)

· No, it’s not because I couldn’t hear! (I could hear0

· No, it’s not because the air was too cold or the heat too hot! (I was comfortable)

The reason I regret sitting on the back row is because of what I saw… because of what I heard…because of want I felt! You see, in front of me were 4 young people, who obvious didn’t go to the concert to see the concert.

· They didn’t go to hear the songs of Christmas!

· They didn’t go to sing the praises to our Messiah!

These young people went to see each other, and hear each other. One young man walked into the service… LATE… wearing cowboy boots…. with spurs. Every step he took gave forth that jangle of metal-against-metal, and like “Hee Haw”… “Here I is”

His friend was a portly fellow, about as wide as he was tall. His size didn’t bother me, but is mouth did. All throughout the concert, he had to make the little cowboy laugh. And his jokes and jesting were not subtle, but rather … in your face!

Next to him, sat the ‘weak and silent’ type. This aberration of manliness didn’t talk… too often. And, rarely did anything to draw attention to himself…other than wear his oversized ball hat… in the house of God.

Lastly, we have the blond-haired, blue eye beauty. Although I never saw her eyes, I did see her hair. She apparently was the testosterone magnet, compelling the young men around her to win her heart through their childishness.

As I sat there, I kicked myself for sitting in the back.

· It’s my fault. I chose to sit there!

· I could have sat closer to the front, and avoided the rudeness, toward God, God’s house and the God’s choir.

· I had no one to blame but …me!

I told God, right then, that I hope and pray that when He calls me home, that I’ll be in church somewhere. But, I told Him that I also hope and pray that He won’t find me in the back of any church!

· The back of the church is where people go who aren’t interested in what’s going on up front.

· The back of the church is where people go so they can do something other than focus on what’s going on up front.

· The back of the church is where people go so they can be as far away as possible from what’s going on up front.

Lord Jesus, please don’t find me in the back of nobody’s church!

And then, out of nowhere, wherever that may be, the Lord gave me this message.

You see, as the 4 Amigos, struck a negative nerve with me, the Lord asked me a question, “Is this concert worth the fuss?”

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