Getting Naked at Christmas

Got your attention, didn’t I?  If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s coming up with catchy titles.

I’ve been thinking lately, about Christmas.  I’m not sure I will be able to effectively describe what I’ve been feeling during this season when all is jolly and festive and bright, but I’ll try.  I certainly haven’t been feeling jolly and bright.  In fact my heart has been breaking.

Those of you who know me know that Christmas is a hard time of year for me anyway.  I’ve never figured out why, I’ve just learned to push through to January when things start setting themselves somewhat right again.

This year is different.  It’s hard for me to pull my thoughts together to focus on one thing, but I will try to express some of the thoughts and feelings that have inserted themselves into my head in a way that will, I think, forever change my feelings about Christmas.

First, let me explain about the title “Getting Naked at Christmas.”  In the 20th chapter of Isaiah, God tells Isaiah to “Take off the sackcloth from your body and the sandals from your feet.” And he did  so, going around stripped and barefoot.  God told Isaiah to do this because the people weren’t listening to God.  After Assyria conquered the northern kingdom of Israel in 722-721 B.C., Hezekiah, King of Judah was under great pressure to make an alliance with Egypt, even though Isaiah urgently warned against it.  Hezekiah and the people weren’t listening, so in obedience, Isaiah stripped of his sackcloth and sandals and got their attention.

I believe we are in the same place today.  We’re not listening.  We have learned to quiet the voice of Holy Spirit who resides within us as we succumb to external pressures of family and society who continue to do the things that go with Christmas.  Buying gifts for everyone you think might possibly buy a gift for you.  Planning to spend time with loved ones (or not so loved ones), because the societal belief is that “Christmas is all about being with family.”  Well, I love being with my family, most of whom live on the other side of the United States, but not because of Christmas.  And I’ve never seen a pin or bumper sticker that reads “Family is the Reason for the Season.”

It’s true, this time of year evokes familial feelings that we tend to lay aside through the busyness of the rest of our year.  Some of us have long-held family traditions that we cherish and long to pass on to our own children.  Family traditions at Christmas can make for wonderful memories this time of year.  My husband decided one year to give his son some cash, but wanted a unique way of delivering it.  He decided to hide it in a 12-pack of Dr. Pepper, but disguise the soft drink package as something else.  I don’t remember what he make the package look like that first year, but it was a fun gift and over the years his son has received many 12-packs of Dr. Pepper, disguised as various objects.  It has been a fun tradition in our family to see what he’ll come up with next.

But what of other traditions?  What about acting like “Jesus is the reason for the season” and not just saying it to people?   What about celebrating Advent in the weeks before Christmas as we anticipate, along with Mary and Joseph, the birth of our Savior,  and later the second coming of our King?  What about that tradition?

I know you’re out there.  I know there are those of you who hold these traditions very close to your heart.  You teach your children to honor Christ this time of year as the King who became flesh and saved the world from sin.  I have to believe you’re out there somewhere.  Maybe it’s just my little world where Christmas has become command performances with plenty of wine and champagne.  We may know in our hearts what this season is all about, but no one around us is any the wiser (and prefers it that way).  We raise our glasses with them and celebrate “life,” or “family,” or “friendship,” when we know so well that without God, those things have very little meaning.

I can’t do it anymore.  I must honor the One who is my only hope — the babe who loved me before I even knew him.  The One who loves me now, even though I’ve crumbled under the pressure (and dare I say–not that much pressure), to be like everyone else.

It’s time to come clean.  It’s time to get naked.  (And before you get silly, I must point out that naked is NOT the same thing has nude.)  It’s time to stop doing what people around me think I should be doing and start being where Jesus wants me to be and doing what Jesus wants me to do.  It’s time to stop hiding out of fear of rejection and start standing up, even if my courage peeks out through knocking knees.  That’s what I’m doing for Christmas this year.  How are you celebrating?

There is only one gift I want this year.  I want the eyes hearts to be opened up to see Jesus for who he is.  I want all those who claim to love God to be captured with his love and wholly given over to loving him and serving him.  That’s what I want for Christmas, and I’m not asking Santa for it.

Happy Birthday, Jesus.  Wish you were here.

“But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”  Luke 2:10-11

Crowns

I have a crown. I put it on every morning just in case I feel the need to show it to someone. It’s an okay crown, as crowns go, I suppose. Oh it used to be shinier and it had more jewels in it, but it is still basically goldish/silverish in color, though if you look closely (or not so closely), you can definitely see signs of tarnish, and wear and tear.

But I still wear it. It’s my crown. And it’s the only one I have, faded and worn though it may be.

During worship this morning, I sang a song called “What Joy is Found,” and the words of the ending chorus go like this; I’ve come to worship/I’ve come to bow down/to seek only your face/laying down my crown.

As I sang those words over and over, I realized that it’s much easier to say “I will lay down my crown,” than it is to actually do the laying down part.

Truth is, I still want my crown.  I guess because whenever I think of it, I see it as still beautiful. Still shiny and sparkly. But I realized today just how worn and tarnished the crowns we wear really are. It’s sort of the same thing about how our righteous acts are as filthy rags (Isa. 64:6).

Even though I am convinced that the crown we will receive when Jesus appears is beautiful beyond the likes of which we have ever seen or could imagine, it’s still hard to lay mine down. It boggles my mind.

What’s your crown? Wealth? Beauty? Talent beyond measure? Even the good things we do — the righteous things — can become our crowns if we let them. I don’t know about you, but I want with all my heart to learn how to lay my crown down.

After all, nobody can wear two crowns at the same time.

And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away. 1 Peter 5:14

Dregs

I hate waking up in a cranky mood.  I can always tell when I’m cranky, because there are always more big, huge trucks in the two right lanes of the road I travel.  And the cars in the left lane can’t seem to go faster than the big, huge trucks so I can’t get around anybody.  I don’t particularly need to drive fast, but I do expect to go the speed limit and I don’t like being boxed in.

On mornings like this, by the time I get to the office, I’ve determined that everyone driving on the road is an idiot.  Why they don’t wake up before they get behind the wheel of a car is beyond my understanding of human nature.

Did I wake up cranky?  Or am I cranky because nobody will get out of my way this morning?  I don’t know.  It doesn’t really matter.

Once I get into the office and spend a little time with the Lord, I get it.

Dregs.

I need to be poured out and I didn’t take the time to do that this morning.

See, historically, after wine makers stomped on the grapes to get the juice flowing, they poured the juice in vessels and allowed the dregs, lees, sediment to settle to the bottom.  Then they poured the liquid into another vessel and let the dregs settle again.  They had to go through this process several times until the wine was crystal clear.

We’re like wine.  We need to be poured out on a daily basis to filter out the dregs that accumulate in our lives-and accumulate, they do.  Otherwise, our thinking gets muddy, we can’t see clearly, and before you know it, everyone on the road is an idiot.

Lord,I submit this day to you.  Pour me out before your throne.  Cover me, cleanse me, and settle my heart until I can be seen clear through and I can see clearly again.  

Out of the Desert

If you take a closer look at Israel’s past, you may notice that each time in history when the Jews were not occupying the land they were given by God, it was desolate, a desert.  The only time Israel is lush and green, blooming, and teeming with life is when it is occupied by the people God chose to live there.

Why?  Because God set it up that way.  No other land in history (to this non-historian’s knowledge), can claim this unique quality.  I understand that if no one is planting, nothing grows, but in Israel, everything blooms and grows lush, when her people are home, even places where men do not plant.

It is also so with us.  When we do not allow the Holy Spirit of God to live in us, we too, become a desert.  Nothing grows that is life.  Only those things that cause death.  Hate, resentment, jealousy, bitterness, PRIDE.

God set it up that way.  He is the One who breathed life into us.  If we don’t live out of the life HE breathed into us, we cannot live.  We are left to scratch out an existence in a desolate desert.

Isaiah’s personification of nature was prophetic in that we are Israel.  And God is the person who gives us life just because he ‘occupies our land’ or lives in our heart.

The choice is simple.  Thrive or wither?  Lush or barren?  Life or death?

And don’t be fooled.  You will choose.  You choose everyday.

I choose life.

 

“The poor and needy search for water, but there is none;  their tongues are parched with thirst.  But I the Lord will answer them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them.  I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys.  I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs.  I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.  I will set pines in the wasteland, the fir and the cypress together, so that people may see and know, may consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this, that the Holy One of Israel has created it.”  Isaiah 41:17-20

Killing Me Softly

Forgive me for using the name of a song (one of my favorites, btw), for these thoughts. Hopefully, by the end of my story you will understand better how it fits.

I was sitting at a light the other day, waiting to make a right turn. I wanted to stop and get a cherry limeade before meeting my husband at the church office. I didn’t want to keep him waiting, but I wanted a cherry limeade. Knowing that the drive-thru line at this particular establishment could often be slow, I was feeling a tad bit anxious and slightly rushed, not so much that I was irritated, but enough so that I was feeling mildly impatient.

The light turned green and I could’ve made the turn except for a man who was still halfway across the intersection and walking like nobody’s life depended on it. He was a very large, unkempt man and his stomach was partially showing out from under his very worn shirt. Immediately I thought… well, I won’t tell you what I immediately thought. If you’ve read my blog at all, you know exactly what I thought. I thought what most judgemental people think. A young, fit looking man, sitting on his bike on the corner looked at me and gave me a knowing smile, further supporting my “jump to judgement” thoughts.

Finally, the man made his way to the corner and stepped onto the sidewalk just as the light turned red, giving the opposing traffic permission to fill the intersection, once again making a right turn impossible. Even the young man on the bike got to cross the street in front of me. The object of my annoyance simply continued to amble up the street, unaware of fact that he had just caused a rift in my universe, which of course revolves around me.

Annoying Man was still in my mind’s eye when I finally got to make the right turn and head toward my cherry limeade. Then something happened that I did not expect.

As I watched him ambling through my memory, I noticed that he looked tired, depressed, beaten down. I wondered what life circumstances surrounded him growing up resulting in the life he now lives and the physical limitations he currently accepts. I felt his hopelessness against anything ever-changing in his world. My heart was torn at the thought that this broken world had broken this man and he could do nothing now but survive the reality in which he finds himself.

I identified with the hopelessness he felt. There are areas in my life that have been swallowed up in that hopelessness and I don’t know if they will ever be redeemed this side of heaven. If I’ve been able push those areas outside of my purview and continue to live my life in some semblance of what is acceptable to society, it is only because I have been handed more than this man has.

Tears fell as I realized that God watches this man every day. And his heart breaks for him every day. In his mercy, God broke my heart for this stranger who ambled through my life, and used it as yet another opportunity to gently, softly kill that part of me that judges so easily.

I’ve said before and I will say again…

If God’s judgment does not kill me, his mercy surely will.

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.   Ephesians 4:21-24

Love Justified

I understand now why in Matthew 18:3, Jesus said “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  Children tend to simply believe whatever you tell them in earnest. Especially if you are part of their circle of trust, like a mother or father.  And when you tell them something like “I love you with all my heart,” they believe you.  They don’t wonder what they did to earn it and they don’t feel the need to do something great or become someone wonderful in order to justify your love.  They simply believe it and then go about their day.

According to much of our thinking, there are two ways we can become worthy of the love that God so freely gives us.  If we don’t think he loves us we try to earn it.  On the other hand, if we already know he loves us, then we try to justify the love we have received from him.

If we are diligent Christians, I believe that most of us come to the point where we finally believe that God loves us “with all his heart.”  And we understand that there is nothing we did – or ever can do – to earn his love.  But I also believe that we somehow still feel the need, once his love for us is realized, to go out and justify it.  Much like a young man or woman, realizing the faith and support of friends and family, is spurred on to complete their studies and go on to become a successful part of society in order to justify that faith and support.  It’s absolutely a natural thing.  It’s just not a necessary thing when it comes to God’s love for us.

What if we failed?  Would his love then not be justified?  Of course that’s not true!  Just as there is no possible way for us to earn God’s love, as we already understand, there is no way that we could ever justify the love he has already given us.  The only way we can understand the fullness of God’s love for us is to allow the Holy Spirit to dwell within us and give witness to his love on a daily basis.

My suggestion to you?  Let the Holy Spirit do his thing in you and simply go about your day.

…and I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.  Ephesians 17b – 19

 

I Need a Rock

Taking care of an aging parent can’t be an easy task.  Did I say task?  I meant to say commitment.  There’s no doubt that it takes commitment, fortitude, grace, mercy, patience… get the picture?  It’s obviously something that cannot be done without the help of the Holy Spirit.

But there are two sides to that coin.  My struggle right now is that I can’t take care of my mom.  I would.  In a hot second.  Unfortunately, life decisions have placed me 1,343.5 miles away from where she is.  Recently, after a month-long visit, I put her on a plane back home.  All of a sudden I was scared.  Scared for her because I knew she was having more and more short-term memory problems.  She doesn’t hear very well so she easily gets confused and that causes her to feel anxious.  Scared for me because I couldn’t follow her and be there for her to calm her heart when she became overwhelmed.

I’ve never been one to worry much about anything.  Especially since learning to lean on Jesus knowing that God has everything under his control and he’s working it all out for good.  But I have cried and worried and cried for the last few days.  This is a really hard one for me.

I realize now that I have let this struggle overtake me.  I have failed to access the power that is in me because of Jesus.  Jesus has power over EVERYTHING.  Worries, addictions, depression, gossip, care-taking, injustice, aging family members, (your issue here).  Everything.  The same power that raised Jesus out of that grave resides within us to carry us out of any situation that threatens to overwhelm us.  Any.  I mean any.

Jesus walked right over the waves that threatened the lives of the disciples.  Out of those waves he stepped into their boat and calmed the storm around them.  If overwhelming waves are threatening me, or threatening you, we can be assured that those waves will bring our Salvation if we let them.

Do you need Jesus to step into your boat and calm the storm around you?  I do.  Every day.

He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.  Psalm 62:6

Trust

I put my mom on a plane the other day to fly home to Oklahoma.  I’ve done it before and  it’s always sad to see her go.  I enjoy her visits and this time was no different.  Until it was time to put her on the plane.  I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t let go this time.  It was as if I thought I’d never see her again.  Truth be known, I cried for two days.  I’ve not experienced that depth of grief since my brother died in 1992.  I find myself worrying about her, which is saying a lot, because I am not a worrier.  It’s just that she’s more frail than she used to be.  And she gets confused more easily.

Now I’ve come a long way over the past couple of years learn to let go of things and trust God to make everything come out the way it’s supposed to.  I have come to understand that his timing is perfect and that he has everything under control.  He’s got a plan and he’s making it all work together which is just fine with me.

Except this time.  I don’t much like this part of his plan.  I’m very uncomfortable being so far away from Mom.  I know the fact that her memory is impaired causes her to feel anxious.  I want to be there so I can calm her down when she starts to feel panicky because people are asking her questions faster than she can process them.  I want to be there to protect her from people who are too busy and way too self-important to give her time and space.  I want to be there to explain the things she doesn’t understand anymore, because the world has changed around her.

She needs me.  Surely God can see that.  I don’t know how much time she has left and I can’t imagine that God would allow her to spend it being confused and anxious.  Depressed and distressed.  It just doesn’t make any sense.  And it scares me.

How easily we say that we trust him.  How quick we are to “give him all that we are.”  How interesting that we can say those things (whether through our prayers or worship songs), meaning every word that we say with all our heart, yet not having any idea what that really means.

Am I really willing to give my mom over to him?  To his safe-keeping?  Of course I know he is capable.  No doubt in my mind that he treasures her beyond measure, but still…

This is, by far, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to trust him with.  And I don’t know if I’m ready to give her up yet.  I want to be ready, but I’m not quite sure how to get there from here.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4: 6-7

Come Away My Beloved

Come away, my beloved, come away
into my presence,
into my peace,
into my rest.

I will cover you
with garments clean,
pure as light,
whiter than snow.

I will pour over you
oil will fragrance
sweeter smelling than jasmine.

Come away my beloved, come away.

I will sing over you
songs of love,
songs of healing,
songs of joy.

I will call your name
as deep call unto deep.
It’s taste is sweet
and lingers on my lips.

I will speak to your heart
of my desire for you,
my dreams for you,
my passion for you.

Come away my beloved, come away and be refreshed.

a tribute to my father

One of my favorite songs is a song by Marie Barnett called “The Luckiest Girl.”  It’s a wonderful tribute to her father whom she obviously loved very much.  I never fail to tear up when I hear it.  I think I love the song so much because it paints such a beautiful picture of what could have been and, in my mind, what should have been.

Aside from the fact that my father was a very charismatic Southern Baptist Preacher and then later on, an alcoholic, I don’t remember much about him, even though he didn’t die until I was about 20 years old.  I can’t even be sure if my memories of him are true memories or remembrances of stories I’ve been told.

The fact that the empty feeling in my “daddy spot” intensifies when I hear that song, tells me that, even though I have forgiven him for not giving me what he never had to give, I still grieve the loss.  Over the years though, I have learned that just because the memory trail leads to nowhere in particular, doesn’t mean that I have to live in the black hole at the other end.

There is someone else who has graciously and compassionately stepped into the “daddy” role in my life.  God, my heavenly Father has been more of a father to me than I could ever have hoped for.  He’s been my shoulder to cry on more times than I can remember.  He has protected me when I’ve stepped into situations where I had no business going in the first place.  He’s even let me fall a few times and been there to help me up and steady my feet.  And he’s been there through every storm reminding me that it’s only wind and rain.

He teaches me.

He comforts me.

He guides me.

He protects me.

And through it all, He loves me.  I can’t imagine a kinder, gentler, wiser, more devoted father than my Heavenly Father.  And it’s in the arms of the One who is Father to the fatherless that I will grieve what never was and rejoice in what is and what is to come.