It's A Wrap

We move so quickly on to the next thing.

Already the Christmas dinner feast has been fit into small plastic containers and classified as leftovers. The torn gift wrap has been wadded up, bagged, and tossed into the trash. The presents have been consolidated into tidy piles and taken to each person's room. Soon it will be time to take down decorations and tree and step determinedly into January. Let's be careful.

It would be easy to pack away Jesus with the holiday greens and glitter and barely give Him a thought until the sentimentality of next Christmas's carols invite us to pause and again consider the miracle of God in a manger, to prod us again to "let every heart prepare Him room." Lord knows how full we've let our calendars become. But Jesus didn't come to be with us only as a plastic addition to a 12" nativity scene that sits for a couple of weeks on our table and warms our hearts unthreateningly with His tiny silent presence. Although He doesn't force us to receive the Gift, He came not as the innocent focus of Silent Night, but the clearest Word the world will ever hear. If we will but listen. He came to be the pulse of our heart, the healer of our culture, the savior of our world, the Lord of our days. This week as we stop to consider new year's goals, let's not give Him the same meager status as our Christmas accessories or holiday sweaters, shuffled back into the closet.

Remember, this little One did not stay a meek and mild baby all tender and pink, but grew up to be a slayer of death and a giver of Life. The Light of the world.

"So let Me out," He says.


"And let Me in."



Photographs: Christmas Mess #2, by Shopping Diva; baby jesus in a box, by giddygirlie

'Tis the Season

The lights are glowing all around us now--dazzling displays in city squares, neighborhoods decked out with greenery and inflatable Santas, glittering malls swirling with holiday music to tantalize the crowds to celebrate with more and more, and even churches putting on gala events. Glitz is nearly everywhere. People will be scurrying around in this last week like the mice that dance with sugarplum fairies as we try to get our purchases made and lists completed. It is often a dizzying scene.



It makes it all the more challenging to remember the simple beginnings of the holiday. One tiny baby arriving in the night. Yes, God used lights too--of a wattage we could only dream of...a sky full of glorious angels telling us that the Light of the World had arrived. Talk about a spectacle. We've spun it into a production to be sure, but maybe it's because somewhere inside we know that even if we express it in a skewed and materialistic way, it is true that this event needs our attention, our energy, our time. Hopefully we won't miss the meaning while engaged in the madness.



Try to wrap your mind around the idea that the God who created the heavens and the earth would choose to inhabit the flesh He conceived, now Himself being conceived in the womb of a Jewish girl so He could come to set us free. Free. Now there is a word we don't here much in the days of December. Sure, there are bargains out there, but they are ones that often dig us deeper in debt.





He didn't come into the perfectly positioned scene we usually create in our calm-faced nativity sets....





He came into the chaos of a busy city where there wasn't even room for His mother to have a simple bed in which to give birth. He came to the cackles and noisy bleats where the animals were kept. He came right into the gritty reality of those who were over-tired and over-taxed. He came to us.


This year, as we are surrounded by the twinkling Christmas lights that pierce the darkness of winter nights, maybe we can remember the One whose presence pierces the darkness of our own hearts and souls and brings light to the very raw and earthy place where we need it most.


He never demands our attention or respect. He won't pencil Himself onto our holiday list. But perhaps we could stop for a few minutes to consider again the events that began this thing we call Christmas. It would be a sad (though common) thing to be caught up in the flurry for weeks and miss the point of it all.




Photographs: 200,000 Christmas lights, by terren in Virginia; Christmas Lights, by mandj98; B&W baby.JPG, by NataPics; A Rude Awakening, by "clarity"

House of Bread

Bethlehem...

The word means "House of Bread."

John 6:35 Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never be hungry. He who believes in me will never need a drink."

Luke 2:16 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.

A manger is a place to put the food for the ones who would come and eat. Consider the gift of His promise of provision and nourishment for these days. Pause for part of the hectic holiday season and consider what is available to you.

Photograph: Living Christmas Crib Scene 093F, by krisdecurtis

Mary's Gift For Us All

I am sitting here this morning in the 5am quiet, amazed by the promise we have of God with us. This Emmanuel baby who was deposited into Mary's womb by the breath of God is the very reason I can be sure that it is possible for His Spirit to live in me as I open myself to His presence. His word made it so in Mary; His Word was what--no, Who--came to us through her willingness to say yes. And His Word is dwelling in me, able to guide and direct my words and my actions as I listen to Him quietly guiding me today.

This morning I am sitting here, a cup of coffee next to me, a glowing computer screen in my face, my thoughts a mix of the wonder of the season and the responsibilities of the day ahead. There will be my job at school, dinner with John and the kids at Mom's tonight, much list-making and house tidying in any moments in between. There are kids to rustle out of bed in a while, breakfast to get into them, bookbags to gather, a husband to kiss good-bye, and "miles to go before I sleep." These December days are full ones and for the most part quite typical. And yet right now I am aware that there is a great big picture of which my tiny life is a part. I am stern with my heart right now, challenging it to remember the wonder of it as I go on through my day instead of clicking off that reality when I sign off the computer and face a busy house. It is because of the big picture that the rest is meaningful and worth all I can offer--or abandon in it. The great Light, living in each of us right here, right now, for this day is an astonishing thing.

God with us. Emmanuel. A Christmas miracle fleshed out in millions of us right now in this December day. It will be a miracle if we loosen our grip on our lives and take a chance on Him today. Emmanuel. God with us.

His feet touched the planet. Be ready for Him to intersect with you in tangible ways today. That is why He came. That is why He's here.

Photographs: ready yourself, by Moon Rhythm; Kiki and the candle, by Ctd 2005

Pausing

Friends,

This morning I became aware that I have misunderstood the markings on photographs I've found on the internet and used within my blog. Because of a green box beneath them that said "This photo is public" (or if it wasn't marked with any copyright info), I understood it to mean they were available for using on a site such as this, where no money was being gained by their use. I also have been careful to note the individual sitename where the photograph was found. I thought I was working appropriately. I have found I was not.

In light of this information, I need to do some further research to be sure I am handling this right from this point forward. In the meantime, I will not be posting any photographs that have not been taken by me or by my immediate family and have removed all the postings that included any work I used with that improper understanding. It was the only feasible way to quickly take care of the problem.

I am very sorry to have breached what any photographer had done to protect his or her work.

Anita

Beauty Present

Jenna won third place in her age group for this painting she submitted in the Chrysanthemum Show at Kingwood Center. Congratulations!

Let something beautiful inside of you come out of its cocoon to bless someone today:

artwork, a song, a kind or encouraging word, a compliment, a phone call to say "I'm thinking of you," a card, a meal, a prayer, something you've found--a beautiful fall leave, stone, flower, or feather.

You know what's in you; let it make the world more beautiful.

Artwork by Jenna!

I Love You

Note: This entry is a bit unusual for this blog. It will not have pictures alongside the text. It doesn't need them. Oh, there are images, to be sure, but I'll let you, reader, fill them in as you consider what these words look like in real life.


A few weeks ago a couple got married in our church. They went to their Senior Prom and they have dated a while, but they certainly don't have the typical story.

I don't have a music prelude to set the tone for you, or cake and punch to serve to you afterward. This isn't a fancy pastel two-enveloped invitation and most of you won't ever meet Phil and Margie, but I invite you nonetheless to their ceremony because it was beautiful. It was strong. And we all so need to hear these words.

If you are married, please come. If you aren't, well, you come too, for these words aren't just for couples. They are for any two human beings in any kind of relationship--parent and child, siblings, friend and friend, and yes, husband and wife. So come, have a seat. The bride came down the aisle a moment ago...



Phil and Margie, you’ve chosen 1 Corinthians 13 as your wedding chapter. It’s a doozy. Listen:

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

"If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

"Love is patient, love is kind.

"It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

"Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

"Love never fails."


In the middle of a tough letter to a church that had a lot of problems, that’s a profound treatise on what love really is. The Christians in Corinth thought they knew love. They didn’t. And a lot of damage resulted from insufficient or wrong ideas about what it means to love each other. So Paul sketches them a picture of what God’s kind of love looks like. It’s amazing stuff. Who can do that?

Phil and Margie, you two are not starry-eyed teenagers anymore. Still some stars, yes, yes.

You’ve experienced some wonderful things in life. Some aspects of real, genuine love, but also some things that seemed to be love but weren’t. You’re not naïve anymore.

You know that love is tough. It’s hard work. It’s always a risk. It can hurt. None of us do it perfectly. You are, to date, the most mature couple I’ve ever married.

So…as you enter married life at this point—fifty years after your Senior Prom, let me charge you in this way:

Make it your ambition to explore together for the rest of your married days what God’s kind of love is like. Don’t let the past, however good or bad it was, be the grid that you look through to love each other from here on out. God’s doing a new thing in you now. He’s got new things to show you, to teach you, and ways that He will change you in what it means to love. You’re not young in that sense anymore, but be young in this way: ready to learn from Him what His kind of love is like.

Beware of falling back into subtle habits, some of them bad, some of them just old settled habits, instead of taking on the challenge, day by day, to be a better lover today than yesterday, more like Jesus toward each other.

It’s sad that in our society, too often, being young is held up as the Golden Age, and the older you get the more irrelevant you’re told you are. Well that’s just plain wrong.

Phil and Margie, we—all the rest of us—we need you. We need to see you loving each other. Show us how it’s done, with wisdom and with grace, with maturity and with expansive generosity, with love left over to share with others, with humility and courage, with steady loyalty, with good humor, with hope and faith. There’s not a lot of that in the world to inspire and teach and encourage the rest of us. But you’re stepping up today to say, “This is how we want to live. This is how we want to love, you can watch us. No, you won’t do it perfectly, but aim here—1 Corinthians 13.”

No matter how high and lofty that kind of loving is, show us how it’s done. Inspire us. And in doing that, you’ll also be delighting Jesus. You’ll do Him proud, making Him be able to say, “Now that’s more like it. That’s what I call love. That’s how a man should love a woman and a woman should love a man. That’s got Me written all over it.”

All of this—life, marriage, loving each other—in a sense it’s rehearsal. It’s preparation for that day when we all get to see Him face to face. Then we’ll be able to love fully, perfectly, completely. Until that day, Phil, Margie, love each other more and more like this—a taste of Heaven in advance.

Grit and Glory

I much too frequently begrudge the gritty stuff of the world, the demands and inconveniences of every day, the wearing out of stuff and the wearing down of body. But it is in these things where the glory of God often makes itself known.

I tend to separate earthly and spiritual, leaning toward the peaceful "heavenly" things and sometimes resisting the needy earthy things that encompass my days, to say nothing of the needs of the people I know. Often my heart does not go toward them. I can resent it, feeling that it costs too much.

But I suspect that God sees the damaged whole as one huge amazing picture where the threads of His glory warp and weft right through the burlap-like fiber of life that tends to rub us raw. Oh God...let me see a more accurate glimpse of this world as You do. Let me see the hope and potential of the ragged situations that irritate me. Give me a desire to invite You into them, into my own heart more fully, to let You have full reign to do what You do, rather than bristle, shrug, and turn my back on the things that need Your redemption and healing. I'm sure You are already there, wondering why so many of Your people lag behind.

"On earth as it is in heaven."

Photograph: Driveway Stones, by Jenna

Either

Either He's God or He's not.

Either He's my provision or He's not.

Either I believe it or I don't.

Hope is not a desperate wish, but a growing confidence in a God who is.

Photo by Jenna

Transformation

The irritations of my

Life can either be

Perceived as difficulties

Or as opportunities

Instead of casting them

Aside I can take them

In hand and give them

Up to Him in prayer

He will take each one of

Them and wrap it in His

Love and power

Amazing grace

Raise it from the damaged

Places of my life

Transforming it throughout

My days

Like the sand inside the

Oyster that is wrapped with

Many lustrous layers in time

And later it reveals

A beauty, all my troubles

Can be wrapped with glory-light

He'll drape them on me one day

Showing how He

Beautifully restored the tragedies

Out of all the ash

For something precious

for His very own

I AM

I AM. To the human mind the name aches for completion. I AM (who)? I AM (what)? How are we to know a God who won't disclose Himself by finishing the sentence?

I sit here with a Bible full of descriptions that often seem maddeningly incomplete, or even contradictory. And yet, if I could grasp and comprehend the breadth of His completeness, I may be less in awe of the magnitude of Him.

He has told much about who He is. I needn't be discouraged about what I do not yet know. Understanding what He has revealed would take more than this lifetime. Perhaps more than all of our collective lifetimes.

Day One

The laboring woman gave one final push and the baby made a grand entrance, announcing his evening arrival with a loud and lusty first cry. He was checked quickly by the doctor and nurses even though he appeared to be perfect, then was wiped clean, wrapped in a soft blue blanket and placed into his mother's waiting arms. His father had been attentive throughout the pregnancy, looking after his wife and anticipating with her the arrival of their first baby. These months had held more than a few setbacks and complications. Now he was one proud and grateful papa, amazed at the sight and size of his tiny new son.

The father moved to the head of the delivery table and began to wheel his wife and son into the corridor. But instead of taking the expected right turn toward the recovery room, he proceeded through the hospital hallways straight toward the infectious disease ward, and once there, moved from bed to bed, placing his tiny son into the arms of each person there. The startled patients were not used to having visitors in this depressing and unattractive place. It wasn't safe here.

No one could have anticipated this absurd scene. Yet, it really shouldn't strike us as odd or unfamiliar. After all, it's precisely the story we celebrate every Christmas. It was that special night when God the Father sent His Son here to planet earth, where there was not even one person who could be considered "well" in His eyes. All of us were deathly ill, trying to fight off with fleshly knowledge and sheer determination what we were not equipped to conquer. We had already been given the news and the report was not good. "It's terminal," they'd told us as gently as possible. We knew we were dying before they said the words. We could feel it. And then the Father brings His tiny Son here, right into the thick of the mess and says to each of us, "Would you like to hold the baby?" In our arms now was the miracle cure we were afraid would not come in time. But He has come. It is very good news.