Avoiding the Christmas Dread

Last night, I had a moment where I allowed myself to dread the quickly coming, and lets face it, already here, Christmas season. I was tired, hungry, and just making it home on a dark, stormy night.

I started thinking about all of the things I have to accomplish in the next few weeks: preparations for Children's Choir musical I am direction, practice for said musical, presentation of said musical, preparation for my sister's wedding, preparation for being out of town and out of work because of my sister's wedding, memorizing choir music, singing in three other Christmas worship services, doing my job, hosting a party at my home, hosting a party at work, attending a wedding other than my sister's, buying wedding gifts and Christmas gifts, and somewhere in there, I have to find time to get a Christmas tree up and figuring out decorations for my first Christmas in my new home.

Whew! I was overwhelmed, and I honestly wanted in that moment, to crawl in the bed and hide until December is over. But thankfully, the ever present Holy Spirit did not let me dwell in that moment for very long. A thought crossed my mind: I wonder if Mary, in that last month before the birth of Jesus, ever had feelings of dread? I have never been pregnant or given birth to a child myself, but I've learned from friends that the last month of pregnancy is not exactly sunshine and roses. There is discomfort, loss of sleep, fear mixed with anticipation, and the need to accomplish everything before the baby is born. I bet Mary felt all of that. And on top of this, it was during that last month she had to make the trek to Bethlehem! While she anxiously anticipated what was about to happen, I would guess that anticipation was laced every now and then with a good dose of dread.

But I wonder if Mary then remembered the promise the angel gave. "For nothing is impossible with God." Nothing is impossible. The preparations will be made. The pain will be manageable. The busyness will halt. The people will stop talking behind her back eventually. The baby will be healthy. They will find a place to rest for the night. All of those things will fade away in light of the birth of the Christ child.

Last night, in that precious moment with the Holy Spirit, I remembered the promise the angel gave Mary. Nothing is impossible with God. And in that moment, the dread disappeared. I love Christmas. I love it all, but for some reason, this year seems to be a scheduling nightmare. There's so much to do in so little time. And being the perfectionist I am, it must all be done perfectly. I was reminded that all of that stuff is nothing in comparison to the wonder of my Savior's birth. Sure, I can get lost in all of the hectic mess of my crazy life, or I can choose to find joy, peace, and hope in the celebration of the birth of my Savior, what all of that busyness is about anyway.

May you too avoid the dread of the season and be reminded this Christmas of what really matters. Also, if you find yourself caught up in the busyness of life and you feel a bit overwhelmed, remember nothing is impossible with God!

So Forgetful

It was a busy morning to start a busy day. In preparation for a leadership retreat I was leading, I spent the morning running errands, marking things off my many lists, creating new lists so that I didn't forget anything. But for all of my lists, I did forget something.


I was in Michael's buying beads for a reflective craft project to incorporate into the retreat. This was one of those projects where I had an idea in my head to do one thing, but that idea ended up being financially impossible. So, I spent about 45 minutes in Michael's walking up and down the same 3 aisles, trying to figure out what I was going to do. And today was the day the decision had to be made. I had procrastinated long enough. This was it.


Through the help of the Holy Spirit, an idea was formed, a good, meaningful creative idea. I started gathering the supplies, mentally calculating how much this burst of creativity was going to cost my budget, using the calculator on my cell phone to determine how much of each product I would need. I had so many thought processes going through my head that I'm surprised any of it came out right. In the midst of this, I'm answering emails as they come to my phone, having a conversation with a friend from church who was also shopping, and handling several phone calls from students and coworkers (because heaven forbid I leave campus for a bit without someone needing to track me down).


As I prepared to head for the checkout counter, I remembered that I would need small resealable bags to put all of the pieces for this project in for each student who would participate. I dreaded having to make another stop. I had just left Wal-Mart, and even though it was just across the street, I didn't want to return. Dollar General was my next idea as I thought it would be quicker. As I zoomed toward the front of the store, the jewelry aisle that I had been up and down so many times that morning caught my eye. They had small resealable jewelry bags, 100 for $1.49. They were just the perfect size, and this purchase would eliminate my need for that dreaded extra stop. I put a packet of bags into my shopping basket and proceeded to the front of the store.


Somewhere between that moment, paying for my items, loading them in my car, and leaving the shopping center, I forgot that I had bought the bags. I got back onto the main highway and suddenly "remembered" that I needed to go by Dollar General to buy the bags. I quickly maneuvered across three lanes of traffic, turned into a local restaurant parking lot, and exited on the other side onto the road adjacent to the Dollar General. I parked my car, walked into the store, had to seek assistance from an associate as to where the bags were, and as soon as I touched the box, it all came flooding back. I realized that my forgetfulness caused me to make an extra stop. I already had bags. And surprisingly, they were cheaper at Michael's. I had a quick laugh at myself, put the box back on the shelf, and exited the store. I guess the best way to describe how I was feeling is the word amissed (a cross between amused and pissed...thank you Art Hartzog for that creation).


I had wasted precious time, but I couldn't help but see the humor in the situation. I was so consumed by my need to get things done, to move forward, by my busyness, that I forgot something so minuscule yet so important.


Later that night, I was sitting in our campus worship service, Overflow, and it was as if God hit me over the head with the true lesson from this little exercise in forgetfulness. How often do I "forget" God's truth? How often do I trade it for a truth of my own making for convenience sake?


How often do I forget God's mercies? I complain about my life, my job, and everything else in the world, all the while forgetting how blessed I am and how much He loves me. I forget that his love is unconditional, and that love extends to everyone, not just the ones I find worthy!


How often do I forget that I've laid my sin at God's feet? Instead of letting it be there and letting Him take care of it, I find a way to sneak back to that altar (although I'm not really sneaking at all considering I serve an omniscient and omnipresent God) to pick it up and carry it around like a medal for all to see. I do the same thing with my worries, my heartache, and my fears.


Just like I forgot that I had already purchased the resealable bags and went out of my way, wasting time and energy, to get what I already had, I forget what God has done for me through Jesus. I so often temporarily "forget" what God has done for me through the gift of salvation. I live my life as if that doesn't matter at all.


I don't want to forget these things, even if just for a crazy moment! I must be more diligent in spending time in God's word. I must be more diligent in spending time in prayer. I must love the things that He loves and despise the things He despises. I must keep my focus on Him and not be held captive to sin. I must fix my eyes on Jesus, the one who wrote the story of my life and my salvation. He has not and never will forget me!


Hallelujah that I serve a God that never forgets and forgives me when I do!

The Easter Bunny Doesn't Bring Baby Sisters

My friend Kimberly welcomed a new daughter, Maggie, into the world this morning. This precious gift of God joins a wonderful family with two boys, ages seven and two. Kimberly called me yesterday evening to tell me that she started having contractions. She knew the birth could come at any time, so she asked if I would be willing to come over and stay with the boys if they had to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. I was more than willing to help, even in this small way. Ian (the seven year old) was asleep when I arrived around 2:30 am, but Will (age 2) was wide awake. He and I watched the movies Cars and Up until about 5 am, when he finally decided it was time to go to sleep.

Around 8 am, Ian woke up and sleepily sauntered into their living room. He was excited about the possibility of his baby sister arriving, although he wasn't really sure it was going to be today. He seemed convinced that it would take longer. As he patiently waited on his grandfather to take him to the hospital, he and I had a conversation about Easter.

Figuring that he might be a little nervous with everything going on, I tried to keep it light.

Me: Ian, do you think the Easter Bunny is going to bring you a baby sister this year?
Ian: No, the Easter Bunny doesn't bring baby sisters. He just brings candy and maybe, I'm hoping, a car!

Our conversation about the Easter bunny continued, including a really funny story about his Uncle Steven being so bad that the Easter bunny wasn't coming to visit him. Instead, his wife was going to have to buy him an Easter basket.

It wasn't until later this morning that I realized the truth of Ian's statement. I received word that Maggie had arrived and was healthy and beautiful, and I began to thank God for her precious life, especially arriving right here at Easter, a perfect reminder of the new life we are promised in Christ through the gift of His sacrificial love.

It dawned on me that this seven year old little boy had made a profound theological statement, proclaiming a truth that often gets lost in our time and culture. For Christians, Easter is the most important day of the year. Our entire belief system hinges on the fact that Jesus gave His life for us through his brutal death on the cross but died to a grave that could not hold Him. He arose to bring us new life in Christ. Without the resurrection, the rest doesn't make sense. Without the resurrection, there is no salvation.

In John 14:6, Jesus says, "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but by me." While the world may put the Easter bunny (and his eggs, and candy, and toys, and stories) on center stage at this time of year, the real star of the show is Jesus! The Resurrected, Holy, Wonderful, Magnificent, Sacrificial Jesus!

Ian was right. The Easter bunny doesn't bring baby sisters because the Easter bunny can't bring us new life. Only Jesus can!

You are stronger, you are stronger,
Sin is broken you have saved me.
It is written, Christ is risen,
Jesus you are Lord of all.

He is risen indeed! Amen!

Showered Wisdom

God's word to me today: no longer be captive to what the world offers but be captivated by what God offers...love, grace, forgiveness, joy, and peace

And he was amazed...

"And he was amazed at their lack of faith," Mark 6:6

This is one of the verses in the gospels that speaks of the humanity of Jesus. He had returned to Nazareth, his hometown. He was teaching and healing there as he had been everywhere. But the people there questioned him. This was the carpenter's son. They had watched him grow up! How could he be doing and saying these things? So Jesus left, but before he did the gospel writer tells us that he was amazed at their lack of faith. As the divine Son of God did he know how they would react? Yes. But in his humanity, he was amazed.

I sometimes wonder if God, even in his omniscience, is amazed at my lack of faith? I imagine that he is in that "I knew you weren't gonna believe me but really?" kind of way. I wish it were different. I wish I didn't question or doubt as much. I wish I had faith to really live like I believe that God keeps His promises.

I want a renewed faith. The faith of a child. The faith that believes my daddy can do anything and everything simply because He's my daddy. The faith that trusts in my father's words and reassurances even though I'm fearful of the monsters that might be lurking in the closet. The faith that wants to just lay back and let my daddy wow me of stories of his own making, helping me believe in the things that seem impossible.

And God's word promises me that if I have faith, even faith as small as a mustard seed, that I can move mountains. Instead of God being amazed at my lack of faith, I want to be amazed by His response as a result of my faith!

Feeling at Home

I traveled to Blakely this week to attend the funeral for my aunt. As we were driving through the streets of town, I was taken back to a moment in time (or several moments in time) from my childhood. You see, my dad was one of the only members of the family that didn't live in town. Everyone else (except for my Uncle Clarence) stayed there, raised their families there, made their homes there. My dad didn't. So when we traveled to visit my grandmother and the rest of the family, I always felt like the outsider. Let me be quick to say that it's no fault of my family's. It was just how I always felt.

Many of my memories of Blakely involved anticipation. I remember the anticipation of turning on the final road to my grandparent's house. I remember seeing the donkey on the corner where we turned, hearing our family dog bark as he knew he was almost back "home," and looking across the field towards my grandparents' house hoping to get a glimpse of my grandmother on the back porch awaiting our arrival. This was joyous anticipation. I couldn't wait to get there. I loved my grandparent's house. It was where my dad was born. I knew it would be full of wonderful smells of my grandmother's cooking. It felt like my second home. While my mom insisted that I always mind my manners, I didn't have to be on my best behavior there. I could just relax and be myself.

As we were driving down a street in town today, I was immediately taken back to a moment in time that held a different kind of anticipation. Nervous anticipation. In the back seat of my parent's car I was taken back to when I was about 8 or 9 years old. We were traveling down the same street, headed to my aunt's house. I was nervous. I knew everyone else coming to her house would be completely comfortable there. They lived together, saw one another all of the time, all of my cousins when to school together and had lots to talk about, they had the same friends. They thought nothing of just walking in the door. I, on the other hand, stood and knocked. I felt like I had to be on my best behavior, like I couldn't really be myself. Like I had to be the person they thought I was instead of the person I am. I remember having this feeling more strongly when my parents were dropping me off at some family member's house. If they stayed with me, I was okay. If I was by myself, it was a whole other story. I was fearful. Even now I don't understand why I was fearful. After all, these people were my family. They loved me.

My sister wasn't plagued with the same fears. She never wanted to stay at my grandmother's house. She wanted to be with my cousins. She thrived being with the rest of the family. She never has been one to be content just to sit still and she wasn't then either. I remember on several occasions going to my cousins' house to spend the night. I never wanted to be too far from her. It drove her crazy. But it made me feel more comfortable. It made it bearable. Again, I have no clue why I felt this way. My cousins are great, wonderful, welcoming people. They treated me just like what I was...a member of the family. But they were unfamiliar. I felt like I was the only unfamiliar one trapped in the midst of their world. I wanted to feel like I belonged, but I never did. And to be honest, to this day, I still feel the same way. I try not to, but nothing has changed. I stick close to my mom and dad. I am fine as long as they are there with me. Sad, I know, for a grown woman, but those feelings just will not go away.

I love my family. They are dear, dear people. But as I thought about this strange phenomenon in my life today, I wondered if that's how unchurched individuals feel in the midst of the church. Do they feel alone? Do they feel like they don't belong? Do they come to the doors of the church with nervous anticipation instead of joyful anticipation? Do they recognize the kindness of the people there but still feel like an outsider? Do they desperately long for someone to cling to, someone to feel safe around?

And what about me? Do I respond to that longing in the right way or do I overlook them? Do I just go about my business with my friends at my church, forgetting all along that it's not really my church anyway. It's God's church. How does He want me to respond? I know what it's like to feel like the outsider...to feel like everyone else knows everything about everyone else there except for me, to feel like I have to put on an act, to feel like I can't just be myself, to exist in a state of nervousness and fear.

Of all places where people should feel comfortable and loved, the church should be it. But as a member of the church, I don't feel like I do a very good job. I live in my own little world with my own friends and concerns, rarely noticing the hurting face of the person sitting across the aisle from me. Rarely noticing the scared individual who slips in on the back row and leaves as soon as the service ends to avoid the embarrassment of standing there alone with no one to talk with.

I know that feeling. I don't want anyone to feel that way. I must do something different!

2010: Don't Waste a Moment

Happy 2010! It's hard to believe another year has come and gone. I spent some time reflecting on 2009 this morning, looking back on what God has shown me and taught me through the year. And He's shown me a lot, mostly about submission. I have a feeling I'm going to be learning more about that in 2010 :)!

One of my new toys for 2010 is a new laptop. I spent some time today organizing my files and documents on my old laptop before moving them over to the new one. In doing so, I allowed myself to do something I probably shouldn't have done. I found a file from 2009, and I opened it and read it. This file contained letters to a person I care for deeply. The writing was good. It was complete, raw emotion. It was unbridled honesty. It was written in love. It was deeply personal but at the same time pertinent for many situations. I was astounded by the truth and wisdom found within these letters. It was obviously Godly wisdom and not of myself! But there was a sadness at the end of this journey down memory lane. The sadness came partly from the situation of love lost, but more so from opportunity lost. When I wrote those letters, I didn't feel like I could share those words with the intended recipient. I didn't feel the time was right. I didn't feel those words would be received well. I was afraid. These words have never gone anywhere past my eyes and the computer screen.

I wonder if they would have made a difference. Not in the short-term. I've made peace with that. But in the long-term. I wonder, if I had put my fears aside, if the words I wrote would have made a difference in the long-term, and by that I mean eternally. Would a life be different today? Would my life be different today? I would share them now, but that would just be weird and completely inappropriate considering the current situation. But it was definitely an opportunity lost.

But I did learn something from my reading. I'm going to do my best to live my life in 2010 in such as way as to not let opportunities like that slip by. I'm not going to be afraid. I'm not going to miss opportunities to share truth and unbridled honesty with others. And I'm going to do my best to do it in a loving and Godly manner. I'm going to take some instruction from my former boss: Say what you mean and mean what you say, but don't be mean saying it.

I'm going to make 2010 a year of taken opportunities and life lived abundantly.