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Focus on the Family®November | December 2009
(stories from Mandisa, Elisa Morgan and Phil Vischer)
Unexpected Christmas
Moments
Secrets to a
Happy Marriage
“I want my child to love God.”
Laying the groundwork of
faithDr. Kevin Leman
asks parents
Who runs your home?
$3.99
november | december 2009 contents
46 Course
Correction
by Dr. John Trent
Surprisingly simple ways
to change your marriage
35 The Stu! ng
Stando"
by Dr. Kevin Leman
Who runs your home—
you or your child?
features
30 Introducing
Your Children
to God
by Larry Fowler
Understand their
spiritual stages
35
40 Christmas:
Meaningful and
Memorable
by Phil Vischer, Jim
Daly, Mandisa, Ron
Luce and Elisa Morgan
The baby hope tree,
marshmallow guns &
my unexpected gift
30
35
46
40
contents
in every issue6 Welcome!
7 On the Web
12 Clubhouse Connection
20 Parenting Resources
29 Marriage Resources
57 Just for Funfamily life
50 Timeless Wisdom
Unwind
by Dr. James Dobson
Find tranquility in the busyness of life
51 Extended Family
A “Relative” Challenge
by Dr. Bill Maier
How families can love the unlovable
52 For Him
In the Company of the Courageous
by Paul Coughlin
Wrestling with your inner Rambo
53 For Her
Friends in the Frenzy
by Lysa TerKuerst
Mommyhood—don’t go it alone
54 Single-Parent Family
Putting Victoria First
by Elsa Kok Colopy
Navigating custody issues during the
holidays
56 Blended Family
His, Hers … Ours?
by Ron L. Deal
Coordinating your family’s holiday schedule
departments
family stages
10 Early Years
11 Discovery Times
13 Tween Ages
15 Teen Phases
family entertainment
22 “Bah, Humbug!” —Scrooge
Revisited
24 Book Reviews
family faith
26 God With Us
27 Faith-Filled Activities
28 Faith Discussions
56
52
51
53
54
T h r i v i n g F a m i l y 40 N o v . | D e c . 2 0 0 9
Christmas: Meaningful & Memorable
Five inspirational stories,
!ve unique celebrations!
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A Pre-Veggie Tale
Everyone who has watched a VeggieTales DVD knows I am a fairly silly guy.
What they probably don’t know, though, is that I am incredibly shy. So shy,
in fact, that when I was a child, few people knew how silly I was. I kept it
inside. This particular trait may have remained a mystery if it weren’t for the
Christmas presents I received from my dad when I was 8 years old.
My dad was always a provider of creative playthings—model planes and
trains and lots of LEGOs. But the Christmas of my eighth year, he outdid
himself. First, we each opened a portable cassette recorder, one for each
member of the family—himself, my mom, me, my older sister, Cristy, and my
younger brother, Rob.
My mother, sister and brother all uttered a collective, “Huh?”
I grabbed the microphone and immediately started recording my own
voice—and any other goofy voice I could mimic. But my dad wasn’t !nished.
He walked into the other room and returned with an industrial-looking
suitcase locked with heavy metal clasps. Inside was the most amazing thing
I had ever seen—an early video camera and recorder. And by “early,” I mean
pre-VHS. Pre-Betamax. This was a state-of-the-art early 1970s black-and-white
industrial camera tethered to a reel-to-reel video recorder. The rest of my
family was dumbstruck. I was in heaven.
I shot footage all over the house and tried to bribe my little brother to
act out dramatic rescue scenes in the backyard. (“Mom! Tell Rob he has to
be in my movie!”) And though a video camera technically can’t record single
frames, if you turned it on and o# really fast . . . maybe . . . just maybe . . .
I put my Batmobile on the basement $oor and clicked the camera on
and o# as quickly as I could. I nudged the Batmobile an inch and clicked
the camera again. After a few minutes of this, I replayed the tape, and the
Batmobile was driving. Eureka! I was animating.
Over the next few years I made countless little !lms with that video
camera, using toys and LEGOs. (G.I. Joes were more cooperative than my little
brother, and I could cast them in challenging roles.) The video camera soon
gave way to a Super 8 !lm camera, which was then overtaken by professional
video gear and, ultimately, computers capable of creating animation. And a
tomato named Bob and a cucumber named Larry replaced my little brother
and my G.I. Joes.
My life’s work started on Christmas morning, 1974, thanks to a father who
knew what his son needed to develop what God had put inside him.
by Phil Vischer,
founder and president
of Jelly�sh Labs
(JellyTelly.com)
and creator of
VeggieTales
T h r i v i n g F a m i l y 42 N o v . | D e c . 2 0 0 9
The Beauty of the Season
Christmas in the Daly household is what many would
consider a traditional a!air. We place angel decorations
on the tree with words like “Hope” and “Peace” written on
them. We read Bible stories and discuss the true mean-
ing of Christmas while drinking copious amounts of hot
chocolate. These activities might sound average or unre-
markable, but they hold great meaning for me. Growing
up, I would have given almost anything to experience an
“average” Christmas celebration.
One of my family’s most memorable Christmases
occurred in 2001, when our "rst son was just over a year
old. My wife, Jean, had learned she was pregnant again
but wanted to wait until Christmas morning to tell me.
When the day "nally arrived, I opened a present that
contained the blue-and-white hospital cap that Trent
had worn when he was born. I stared at it for a moment,
then looked over at Jean, who had an enormous grin on
her face.
“Are we having another baby?” I asked, but the tears
of joy in her eyes already told me the answer. We jumped
up and hugged and screamed with delight. It was fun
telling Trent that he was going to be a big brother—
that’s certainly a Christmas present he wasn’t expecting!
This event symbolized the beauty of the season for
me in a personal way. As we celebrated the new addition
to our family, I was reminded that God’s ultimate Gift
to mankind—and indeed, the reason we celebrate
Christmas at all—came in the form of a baby. Christ
“did not consider equality with God something to be
grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very
nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled
himself and became obedient to death—even death
on a cross!” (Philippians 2:6-8). Christmas is more than
a celebration of Christ’s birth; it’s a reminder of His life,
death and resurrection on our behalf.
by Jim Daly,
president and CEO of
Focus on the Family
T h r i v i n g F a m i l y 43 N o v . | D e c . 2 0 0 9
by Mandisa ,
Contemporary Christian
Music artist and former
“American Idol” �nalist
One year not too long ago, I was completely alone on
Christmas Day. I lived in Nashville, Tenn., thousands of
miles from my family in California, and I didn’t have the
money to go home. It was tough.
I grew up in a single-parent home, and my mother
and I were close. I so admire her. She worked and raised
my brother and me all on her own. Money was scarce
and times were hard, but she never wavered. My mother
is truly the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and the way
she lived her life caused me to become a strong woman
as well.
Maybe that’s why, even though I was tempted
to feel sorry for myself that lonely Christmas Day, I
determined instead to spend that time with Jesus.
The day changed me. I spent hours thinking about
the meaning of Christmas, worshiping Jesus and reading
the Gospels. People felt sorry for me, but they didn’t
need to—it was one of my sweetest Christmases.
That day ended, but God had more presents in store
for me. Every year since then—in a way that can only be
described as God’s hand—my touring has brought me
to California during the Christmas season. I spend a lot
of time on the road singing and ministering to others,
and I have little control over my travel schedule. So I
know it was a gift from God that I’ve been able to spend
Christmas with my family three years in a row.
I focused solely on delighting in God that one
Christmas, and He brought the desires of my heart to
pass. Just like He promises.
My Unexpected Gift
“Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart.”
Psalm 37:4
T h r i v i n g F a m i l y 44 N o v . | D e c . 2 0 0 9
Every year, from the time my two girls and boy were little, we went to the
Salvation Army on Christmas Day before we opened our presents. We
served food and simply enjoyed hanging out with people. Later in the
day my girls would perform a Christmas cantata, their gift to us. Of course,
my wife and I always looked for ways to put a little crazy fun into the day
as well.
One year, after we were done opening gifts, I said, “Oh, one more
present. I forgot about this, you guys.”
The kids unwrapped marshmallow guns, and we ended up having a
two-hour marshmallow !ght in the living room. It was a messy gift, but it
was a blast.
Last Christmas Eve, my children—Hannah (19), Charity (18) and
Cameron (13)—and my wife and I celebrated in a way that especially
touched my heart.
We had saved all our travel miles and went to Hawaii for a family
vacation. On Christmas Eve, we talked about what we were going to do
to make Jesus the center of Christmas, since we would not be able to
serve others by going to the Salvation Army.
One of the kids said, “Let’s go to the beach, light a camp!re, read the
Christmas story and worship the Lord tonight.”
So, we went out and started a !re. To read the Christmas story, we passed
the Bible around and let di"erent people read parts of the story. After that,
one of the girls grabbed a guitar, and we started singing. We passed the
guitar to Cameron, and he led a couple of songs, too. Then we spontaneously
prayed, thanking God for what had happened during the year.
Those few hours were so meaningful and memorable that we didn’t
want to leave. We remained before God and with each other until almost
midnight.
Marshmallow Guns and Palm-Tree Praise
by Ron Luce,
co-founder and
president of Teen Mania
T h r i v i n g F a m i l y 45 N o v . | D e c . 2 0 0 9
It was Dec. 21. The phone rang. The only other couple in our adoption group
who hadn’t yet been placed with a baby—besides us—was calling to say
they �nally had a child. I hung up, feeling like I’d been shot in the chest. No
baby for us. We’d been waiting for almost �ve years, and I longed to be a
mother.
I rolled up my spiritual sleeves and began to beg God for a baby by
Christmas. I set up a Christmas tree and decorated the branches with pink
and blue ribbons and christened it the “Baby Hope Tree.” Every day I knelt
there, pouring out my prayers.
Then the phone rang, and I heard the hard truth that there was not
going to be a baby by Christmas.
Our �rst child didn’t come until Easter. At last. Our second child came
two years later in a blistering July summer.
When I look back at that 21st day of December, I realize now that my
daughter was safely growing in her birth-mother’s womb on Christmas Day.
God was indeed answering my prayer. He was working while I was waiting.
Every Christmas since then, we’ve continued to set up a Baby Hope Tree,
tied with pink and blue ribbons. In the early years, my husband and I did the
work while telling our children the tale of our waiting and wanting them so
much. As they grew, they began to set up the tree themselves, Eva tying on
the pink ribbons and Ethan the blue ones. Well into their 20s today, they still
come by and admire the tree, the tender reminder that God works while
we wait. L
The Baby Hope Tree
by Elisa Morgan,
former president
and CEO of MOPS
“God works while we wait.”