Jealous of Mary

It's one of our favorite traditions, every Christmas. 

We huddle together on the couch and we watch this movie:

And every year as we watch the drama unfold, I feel something new. 

This year...jealousy.  Just a slight, momentary twinge of green, but still jealousy.

It happened during the scene in which Mary drops her basket in the field and runs over to her older cousin, soon-to-be mama of John the Baptist, Elizabeth.

Mary couldn't believe it.  For the first time, she felt something.  What she'd been told months before suddenly became very real in that moment.

The Messiah had moved. 
The Savior had somersaulted. 
The Christ had kicked. 

She felt it.  In her young, unlikely, ordinary womb.

And for a brief moment, I wanted to be Mary.  I wanted to know what that felt like, too.

Very different or very similar to my own daughters' flutters when I was great with child? 

Instantly, these words came to mind and I leaned over and whispered them to my husband.  They were actually Paul's words, his appeal to those in Athens regarding the One true God versus their city full of idols,

"For in Him we live and move and have our being." Acts 17:28

Paul tried to tell the Athenians that God made it all.  The world, us, everything.  He is not served by human hands as if He needed anything, because He Himself gives all men life and breath and everything else.

The One who is before all things, and in Him all things hold together (Colossians 1:17).

But the way Jesus came to us, God in flesh appearing, and for those brief nine months, He lived and moved and had His being within Mary.

The One whose power and majesty and might can not be contained was temporarily confined to the parameters of her womb.

Crazy, mind-blowing!  And it gets me every. single. time.

While Mary could have donned a trendy little graphic t-shirt with an arrow pointing down to her tummy displaying the words, "Messiah Baby", and an arrow point up to her displaying the words, "Messiah Mama", scripture actually points to her humility.

And because the Creator of the world was growing within her, she had to feel the weight of the world upon her.

So do we.

Following Christ's birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension, He left us Something, or rather Someone.  His Presence in the form of the Holy Spirit.

Yes, Mary was the only one physically to feel the Messiah within her, but because He is also Emmanuel, God with us, we get to experience the reality of God's presence, too.

We can know the flutters of the Spirit in the form of joy, peace, love and so much more. 
We get to hear His voice and walk with Him. 
We can feel Him move our spirit. 
And when He does, we feel compelled to share that feeling, that weight of glory, with someone else, just as Mary did. 

Scripture tells us we have Christ in us, the hope of glory (Colossians 1:27).

It's still crazy, still mind-blowing.  Every time I think about it.

Jealous of Mary?  Nah.  Not so much anymore.

As We Go Along

It was one intentional week to make a huge impact within our community.

Serving food to employees in our local schools, local Sheriff's department, hospitals, etc....
Paying for someone's groceries...
Filling up someone's tank with gas...
Purchasing Christmas presents...
Filling bags with food items to be given away at the local food pantry...
Hosting a block party at the local Boys/Girls club...
Sponsoring a community-wide Christmas event at the town pavilion...
Etc., etc., etc.

It's official name was, "Walk Thru Bethlehem", because well, we did most of it in the little town of Bethlehem where our church is located.

The mission of the week: serve others, love others. 
Not because we had to, but because we could. 
Not with a "come and see" what our church is all about mentality, but rather a "go and show" the love of Christ.

A week ago, on the kickoff night of Walk Thru Bethlehem, all Sunday evening small groups met to eat dinner at the church and to receive assignments to serve.  Our small group (the rockin', most awesome group in the church...) had eight families show up ready to go.  We broke into pairs, took our $50 Visa gift cards and headed to our destination--Wal-Mart.

On the way, I assumed we would be the only small group wandering around looking for people to randomly bless, but I quickly found out my assumptions were wrong.  Within a few minutes, this unsuspecting Wal-Mart was flooded with tons of our church peeps.

At first I was a little concerned, thinking it would make it too awkward or too difficult with all of us in the building at the exact same time for the exact same reason.

I even said something to my husband about the saturation of us crazy church people and he so wisely said, "It's okay.  There are plenty of people here who have needs."  Point taken.

I believe the hardest part for all of us was just getting started.  Someone even asked, "So...what's our plan here?"  My reply: "We watch and we wait."

You see, there were many ways to be a blessing to someone that night.  Some chose to stand at the cash registers and offer to pay for someone's items in their cart.  Others chose to go to the back of the store and secretly pay off layaway accounts. And others chose the same approach we did.

At first the ten of us (yes, ten...four adults & six children ranging in ages 3-13) in our group wandered up and down aisles, no shopping cart, no items in hand to purchase.  In one word, stalking.  And looking very conspicuous while we did it.

Then my husband suggested taking the three youngest kiddos to the toy department while the three oldest kiddos stay with my friend, Terri, and me. 

Divide and conquer was our new strategy.  We also got a shopping cart, threw in some Christmas lights and tried to blend in with our surroundings. 

After a few minutes of trying to decide, we approached a young couple with their baby looking at Christmas decorations.  We introduced ourselves and I asked if they'd be okay with us helping with their purchase.  They kindly declined, saying they had all they really needed and suggested that we look for someone else who needed the blessing more than they did.

So...we did. 

Then I noticed a woman coming through the lawn and garden area, pushing her cart, interacting with her baby.  I watched her for a few minutes, and then suggested we approach her.  Terri offered to take care of the few groceries in her cart for her.  Once I overheard she was willing to let us do that, I rounded the corner to meet her and all I saw was her cute little dark-haired baby all bundled up. 

After introducing myself, I asked if her little girl had all her Christmas presents already.  To that the mother, replied, "No, no, she doesn't.  We can't this year."  I asked her if she'd rather us take care of her groceries or walk back to the toy department and shop for her little girl.  Her eyes lit up and she humbly said, "Oh, yes.  The toys." 

On the way, she mentioned her husband and two other little girls were walking around the store, too.  I leaned over to Terri and said, "We may need more gift cards."  Terri took off to round up any remaining gift cards from our group so we could take care of the other daughters' Christmas as well.

As we got to the toy department, we ran into our new friend's husband and their other beautiful daughters: a seven year old and their three year old.

I introduced myself to her husband, summarized the conversation we'd just had with his wife and asked his permission to assist in purchasing Christmas for their girls.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes sir, we are."

"Wow (tears in his eyes).  Really?  Well...whatever my wife says."

"She said, 'Yes'.  So, is it okay with you if we start shopping?"

With his wife's suggestions, we picked out gifts for their little ones.  When they left us to finish shopping for their groceries, we took the opportunity to add a few more surprises into the cart and head to check out.  Noisy toys, baby dolls and Barbies.  Such fun surprises for three little girls to find on Christmas morning!

After we'd paid and packaged all the gifts up for them, all ten of us met the sweet family at Customer Service.  Our husbands introduced themselves to our new friend's husband who was quite overwhelmed with emotion by this time.  We said our "good-byes" and "Merry Christmases", but not before our new friend hugged us over and over again.

We all left the store feeling a euphoric high.  Not because we'd done anything huge.  But because we'd done something so small.  But we believe that something small made a huge impact on a small family who needed it in a huge way this Christmas.

This is our family's fourth year participating in Walk Thru Bethlehem.  And more than anything, this is the lesson I've learned this year.  It comes from these six words:

"As He went along, He saw..."

John 9:1a



Usually when I'm out doing my grocery shopping, running errands, etc., I have my eyes on my list, kids in tow, trying to get in and out of wherever as quickly as possible.  No interruptions.  No observations.  Just do what I have to do as quickly as I can possibly do it.

This year's Walk Thru Bethlehem opportunity reminded me to look up and to look out.  I was reminded to really see people as I'm going along.  Not necessarily making a special trip somewhere to do something, but as I'm just doing my thing, notice others doing theirs.  Lift up a prayer for them, smile, interact, or possibly assist in something more tangible.  Whatever.

It's exactly what Jesus did.  As He walked, as He journeyed, He took notice of people.  He was never too preoccupied to stop and meet a need.  He was always on mission and it's possible for me to be, too. 

Sure, it's uncomfortable as first.  Don't think for a minute any of us were really cool with the whole process at the beginning.  It took some dying to ourselves for us to truly see someone else.  We had to step out of our self-centered comfort zones and be intentional. 

The other amazing thing about last week was knowing so many others were doing similar things at the same time and at the same place and for the same reason.  There was camaraderie.  The more, the merrier the Christmas we could give to others.  Two...or tons...are definitely better than one.  There is strength in numbers, particularly unified numbers.

I think that's one of the main reasons I love the church, the body of Christ.  We all have the same objective, making Christ known; it just manifests itself in different ways.  And when we do it all together, as we go along, so much more is accomplished. 

Lord, help us to see as we're going along.  To look up and look around us at those who are in need.  Because you first loved us, we can love.  Because You first served us, we can serve.  Because You first gave to us, we can give.  We'll wait upon You, watching, together...as we go along.

Make Room

I've spent the last few weeks doing something I seem to do every year at this time of year.  Some prefer to do it in the spring.  I prefer right before Christmas.

I initiate an all-out clean-out.  No closet, no drawer, no cabinet, no space under any bed is ignored.  

Trash bags in hand, we conquer the clutter.  We release what we have no use for any longer.  We toss what needs to be thrown away, and we organize what we want to keep.

Because I know more is coming in the next few weeks in the form of gifts, some of the old has to go in order to make room for the new.  If we don't, there's no room for the new.

And since I'm naturally a lover of all things organized and all things tidy, this makes my heart very happy to purge out the old, the unnecessary and seldom used.  Unfortunately, the process is not often met with the same zeal by my oldest daughter, who would be perfectly content to keep every nook and cranny just as it is.  

But as her most wise, most discerning mama, I know there is work to be done.  So this year, in an attempt to avoid any (& all) emotional drama, I told her an intervention would take place on a particular day and she, the occupant, would be responsible for accomplishing the task.  

Cue the pouting, sulking, and tears.  

A few hours into it, little progress was being made.  So an intervention did take place.  I intervened and helped her sort through her mess. Though I thought letting her handle her stuff all by herself was the way to go this year, it was not.  Through tears, she admitted, "I still need your help; it's just too hard to do by myself."  It was too much for her to handle and she was overwhelmed by it all.

Our plan:  divide the room into zones and tackle them one by one.  A couple days later and a couple trash bags later, she hugged me and said, "This feels awesome! Thank you for helping me, Mama."

Crisis (& clutter) averted.  Mission accomplished. Everybody's happy, happy, happy.

Until the the Holy Spirit pressed into my heart.

You see, I'm really good at taking care of business with my physical surroundings. Preparing our home for all the new gifts.  But what about my spiritual surroundings?  What about preparing my very own heart, the wellspring of life?  

So the last couple of weeks I've been thinking about just that.  Christmas will be here soon.  I've been doing so many things to get ready.  Shopping. Decorating.  Planning.  All good things preparing for one great day.  

But is there room? 

Have I intentionally cleaned out what's been piling up for some time?

Am I making room, turning my affection toward the most precious Gift ever given?  

The other stuff is just that, stuff.  I, too, need an intervention from time to time.  I need Jesus to intervene, to guide me in releasing what needs to go: unnecessary expectations, disappointments, judgments, unforgiveness, distractions, selfishness, etc., etc., etc.  

The main way I find to do that is by recognizing Advent, acknowledging that Christ has come, is coming again one day, and is present with us now. Last night was the first night of Advent this calendar year. 

As I sat with my family and read from Bartholomew's Passage, our Advent story this year, I could feel some shifting, some rearranging and some purging happening as the Holy Spirit began to take care of business.  

No pouting, no sulking and no tears on my part.  

Happy to oblige.  

Happy to have Someone helping me with the process.  

Happy to be making room.

"While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  

She wrapped Him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."  

Luke 2:6-7

Help, Lord.  Help us clean out all the clutter, all that has hidden You.  You are the child that was born. You are the Son that was given. You are the Warrior King who's coming again.  You are Emmanuel, here with us now. Forgive us for unknowingly crowding You out as those did in Bethlehem the night You came. Make room in our hearts for You.  Amen.

What Just Happened?!? (Our Confirmation to Adopt)

It's been a year since it happened.
It's been shared in conversations. 
And now, after a year, it has finally been written down.

O Lord my God, you have performed many wonders for us.
Your plans for us are too numerous to list.
You have no equal.
If I tried to recite all your wonderful deeds,   

I would never come to the end of them. Psalm 40:5 (NLT)

On December 26, 2011, my husband and I left his parents' home near Augusta, Georgia, where we'd just spent Christmas Day, and took off in search of some after-Christmas bargains as we do every year.

At the first store, we ran into a long-time friend of ours from college.  Brad, and his wife Chrystal, "just happened" to still be in the area even though they usually spend Christmas in Macon.  They also "just happened" to go into the very same store we were shopping in that day, a store in which they've never previously shopped.  We stopped to chat and both being kid-less for the afternoon, decided to continue our conversation with an impromptu lunch at the local Red Robin restaurant.

The actual Red Robin where the actual event took place.

What I already knew about Brad and Chrystal is that they had recently announced plans for their family to pursue adoption domestically.  Wanting to hear their story, I began asking questions.  Lots of questions.

For some crazy reason, I was VERY interested in hearing EVERY detail they could give.  As Chrystal explained her life-long passion for adoption, I was overcome with the pureness and unselfishness of her soul.  She truly cared for orphans, whereas I had only just begun to become aware.  She oozed love, the raw gospel kind and I found myself drawn to her words, but still struggling to personalize them in my own life.

What I didn't know was that God was about to begin writing a new chapter in the story of our family at that ordinary table on that seemingly ordinary day.


The actual booth in the actual Red Robin where the actual event took place.

At some point in our conversation, my husband and I began to open up and tell our friends of our hearts' recent nudging toward India.  We told of our "India onslaught":  the numerous, unexplained encounters we'd already had with people, situations, etc. relating to that nation. 

We told them how our hearts broke when we learned of the female gendercide situation there from a 20/20 news program earlier in the month.  We told them of the little girl, Kinnera, we chose to sponsor in India through Compassion International.  And we shared with them how we cannot seem to stop our prayers from gravitating toward India, a country which we'd never even given a second thought to in the past.

The more we talked, the more they listened.  And the more they listened, the more unsettled I began to feel. 

Suddenly, mid-sentence, my face and upper-body was overcome with extreme heat.  I began sweating profusely, and as a result, started tugging at the wool scarf encircling my neck.

Puzzled, our friends just watched as I tried to regain my composure and cool myself down from this crazy and intense physical reaction.

Brad: "Are you okay?"

Me: "Yeah...I think."

Brad: "What is that on your neck?"

Me (still tugging at scarf): "I...don't...know...what is it?"

Brad:  "It looks like you're breaking out into a rash."

Me:  "What?!?  Where?!?"

Brad:  "Oh my word...and I think...I think the rash is in the shape of...India."

He was kidding.  There was no rash.  Especially not one in the shape of India, though that would have been very cool.

After the laughter at the table died down, the dialogue continued...

Me:  "Whew.  Not sure what just happened there..."

Brad:  "Yeah...well, who knows?  Maybe God is telling y'all you need to adopt a little girl, from India."

Me (picking my jaw up off the table, and boldly declaring):  "Brad, if God wants us to adopt a little girl from India, then the next person who walks past this table, will be...will be a little girl from India."

Wait for it...because quite frankly, I couldn't have written this part better myself.

In the middle of Red Robin, in the midst of a very "white" community, five seconds later, this happens...

Back to our lunch and back to our conversation, we look up and see a dark-haired, dark-skinned, little girl (clearly of Indian heritage) walk by our table, pause and look over her shoulder before continuing on toward the restroom.

I did a double-take and looked up at Chrystal, as if to say, "Uh...did you just see what I just saw?"

She did.  We all did.  Impossible to miss.

Following closely behind the little girl was her mother and little brother.  And we were left with no doubt about their family's ethnicity.

We were also left with no words.  Only a stunned silence remained.
Without intending to, I'd just stepped onto holy ground.  I'd just laid a fleece out upon the table and God clearly answered.  No coincidence.  No mistake about it.

When I thought I was only joking around, God responded with something serious and intensely personal.

Because last I checked, adoption is a very serious and intensely personal matter with Him.

It took a minute for all four of us to regain ourselves.  Our friends were stunned.  My husband had a perplexed, but peaceful look of disbelief on his face.  And me?  Well, I felt I was on the verge of an all-encompassing nervous breakdown.  Total freak-out mama moment coming on. 

What just happened?  How did a simple shopping trip and lunch with friends turn into such a monumental, life-changing event?

Driving back to my in-law's house, a strange, but exciting silence filled the car. 

I looked over at my husband and asked, "What just happened?  Did God really just confirm what I think he confirmed in one simple moment?  Why would He want us to adopt?"

Looking over at me with a smirk on his face, my husband simply and calmly responded, "Why not?"

Here we are now...one year later. 

As our journey toward adoption continues, we are still amazed at how clear His call for us was that cold December day a year ago.  Even on the full-of-doubt days and the "Did we hear correctly days?", we go back.  We go back and intentionally recall this real and very personal story to remind our hesitant hearts that yes, that really did happen.  We even have witnessess to prove it. :)

It reminds us that He planned this long before we ever had an inkling to His plan.  Long before we ever felt the desire for this plan. 

Since then, He has confirmed His plan repeatedly and in many similar and very personal ways (far too many to recount or retell).  His sacred echoes have been everywhere.  And we're learning to open our ears to listen and our eyes to see more because we don't want to miss a thing!

O Lord my God, you have performed many wonders for us.
Your plans for us are too numerous to list.
You have no equal.
If I tried to recite all your wonderful deeds,

I would never come to the end of them. Psalm 40:5 (NLT)

 

A Grinch's Prayer

As ashamed as I am to admit it, the Grinch and I share a similar past.

Not in the... "I hate Christmas, so I'll steal gifts and trees and lights and happiness right out from under everyone on Christmas Eve" way.

No.  Not at all.  Because, unlike the Grinch, I really, really love Christmas.

Instead, it was more on the lines of..."I think the most likely reason of all…may have been that his heart was two sizes too small.”

In past Christmases, I remember the internal struggle I had whenever I heard that description to explain the Grinch's personality and the reason for his less-than-acceptable behavior.

Maybe that was me, too.

Given any personality test in years past, I'd score high on thinking, low on feeling.  High on analyzing and judgment.  Low on sympathy and mercy.

I rarely cried and was rarely moved to tears by others' situations and suffering.  I cared.  At least I thought.  At least I tried.  But in truth, more often than not, I turned my head, closed my eyes, or pretended not to hear the cries of the needy and the most vulnerable.

And though I'd never considered myself a taker, I'd never described myself as a giver either.  It's not that I was opposed to giving or that I hadn't given or that I didn't give. 

I had.  I did.

It's just that giving didn't seem to overflow naturally from me like it did from so many others I knew.

The hard reality:  I needed some supernatural help with my seemingly small heart.  The heart defect had to go.  My heart needed to grow.

So I prayed.  One simple prayer.  One very short, life-altering prayer. 

(I feel the need to offer a word of caution here.  You may not want to pray this prayer unless you really, seriously...like really, seriously mean it.  Consider yourself warned.)

"Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours."

 

What breaks the heart of God?  Here's my short list:

The lost.  The vulnerable.  The oppressed.  The captive.  The lonely.  The needy.  The helpless.  The poor.  The sick.  The persecuted.  The wounded.  The widow.  The orphan.

That one prayer changed my whole perspective on God and others.  No longer can I sit back and watch, content to stay within my own world, doing my own thing, for my own pleasure. 

No longer can I look at the needs, both here and there, and think, "There are just so many. I'm only one person so I won't be able to do much." 

Instead, I need to help.  I want to bless.  I'm compelled to give.  Something.  Anything.  Not sparingly, but generously.  Not under compulsion, but from a full heart.  A heart which has been given so much.

Weeks ago, I wrote down a specific list of giving opportunities I was aware of this holiday season.  Knowing it was not possible for our family to give to all of them, I narrowed the list to several things/people/ministries which resonated both with us and the heart of God.  And we focused our giving to that list.

And with each giving opportunity, I'm learning a valuable lesson.  Giving takes practice.  Lots of it.  Like learning to play a musical instrument or a new sport, giving is a skill.  The more you do it, the better you become at doing it. 

I'm grateful for these opportunities.  They have given me the chance to put into practice what I'm learning.

In 2 Corinthians 8:7, the apostle Paul said,

"See also that you excel in this grace of giving."

 

Paul knew that left on our own, we will hoard.  We will keep instead of give.  We will continue to store up temporary trinkets for ourselves.  But because God has been so incredibly generous to us, He calls us to store up eternal treasures on behalf of others and for His name's sake instead. 

 

Clinching closed fists less.  Extending open palms more.  

Not to receive, but to give.  Because the more I try to hold on to my life or my stuff, the more I lose it. The more I let go, the more I gain.

Including a bigger, growing heart.  A more generous heart.  A heart that breaks for what breaks His.

(To all my friends and family who possess such giving hearts, thank you. 

I have learned much from your example.)

 

Struggling with Wonderful

The fact that it's Monday and it's rained all day doesn't help.

The fact that nearly every social media post and every news report on television screams a reminder of the horrific tragedy last Friday in Connecticut.

The fact that my husband steps into a public school everyday and works with middle schoolers, often undisciplined, unstable, unpredictable middle schoolers.

The fact that my uncle remains in the hospital after a week's stay, fighting for his life and facing surgery tomorrow from a staph infection, finally identified and located in his spine.

The fact that days before Christmas, my friend's young son, also waits in the hospital, recovering from serious surgery following his year-long battle with bone cancer.

The fact that another dear friend is nursing her husband back to health after his near-death accident, falling 24 feet, head-first off a ladder, onto a concrete driveway.  Never did my friend expect hanging a wreath above a garage would lead to her husband's jaw being wired shut, missing teeth, broken bones, and a near loss of his life.

The fact that another friend's desperate wish to have her adopted son home from India before Christmas appears to be dimming.

The fact that I know of three precious women, newly and unexpectedly widowed this Christmas, facing the days and traditions ahead without their husbands, alone.

The fact that I continue to read from organizations about more children being taken, tortured and trafficked against their will, every hour, here and across the globe.

The fact that so many of my friends and family members have succumbed to seasonal illnesses such as the flu and stomach bugs.

And finally, the fact that in one day we seem to be losing light in our house--with a third of the Christmas lights on one of our trees burned out and two prominent lamps' bulbs as well.

Staring at the tree and the lamps, I can't help but feel the same.  A little less shiny.  A little less bright.  Struggling to stay lit, fighting against the darkness.  Dimming in the midst of today.

On the radio, Christmas carols play.  One in particular catches my attention.  The tune is popular and inviting.  But today, I struggle with the lyrics, meaning what I sing.

"It's the most wonderful time of the year..."

Is it?  Wonderful?  Isn't it supposed to be? 

So, why is it so hard to believe this week, particularly in light of recent events?  Especially in such darkness?

My pastor asked this question of us yesterday, "How does God respond to darkness?" 

His answer: "Jesus". 

Why?  Because He's the Light of the world.  And light always threatens darkness.

Jesus.  Immanuel, "God with us".  He was here thousands of years ago because we needed Him then. He's here today because we need Him now.  Desperately need Him now.

In this dark world, we still have the chance to be brighter.  Brighter than the evil and uncertainty that surrounds us. 

"...declaring the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light." 

1 Peter 2:9

So, today I go back to the prophecy of Scripture.  I exchange my struggling thoughts and struggling questions to Someone who can counsel me.

Not just any counselor.  A Wonderful Counselor. 

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.  And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

Isaiah 9:6

He is wonderful when the world is not.  His wonderful act of coming to us, rescuing us from the darkness of our sin, gave us the light of life.  And because of Him, we are given a wonderful life.  Forever.

Focusing on that truth, celebrating His wonderful acts and wonderful works on our behalf, reminds me what this season truly is...the most wonderful time of the year. 

Unoffendable

 

My husband scanned the crowded lot for a parking space close to the store front.  He spotted a lady walking to her car, getting ready to leave. As any mature driver would, he paused, turned on his blinker and waited until she backed out so he could make the left turn in. 

Just as she was exiting the parking space, another car approached from the opposite direction.  The young, inexperienced driver drove up, completely oblivious to us waiting patiently in front of her, and selfishly hooked her car into the spot.

Honking the horn several times in an attempt to get her attention, my husband rolled down his window.  The girl was unfazed as she pulled in and turned off her ignition. 

"Oh no, she didn't." 

Neither of us could believe this driver's audacity.  She blatantly ignored us.  Without hesitation, she took what was rightfully ours.

We found that space first.  We had our blinker on.  We were following the rules of the road.

As we waited for her to get out of her car, our own girls' rapid-fire questions began. 

"What just happened?  Why did she do that?"  Etc.  Etc.  Etc.

After what seemed like an eternity, our challenger finally emerged from her car. 

Leaning out his window, my husband informed her, "Excuse me, but we were waiting for that spot.  Did you not see us sitting here with our blinker on?"

Her unapologetic and curt reply: "Nope.  Guess I didn't."

And with that, she smugly turned around and stepped onto the sidewalk.

Miffed, my husband started to drive off until I said, "Stop the car.  I'm getting out.  Right here."

I'm not exactly sure what I was going to do when I crossed in front of our car and headed in her direction.  I'm not exactly sure what I thought I was going to say when I caught up with her, but I knew a confrontation was in order.

After all, as a thirty-eight year old Mama and educator, I had an obligation to teach Miss Thang a lesson in parking lot etiquette, something she apparently had yet to learn.

Determined to give her the "what for and the why not", I followed her along the sidewalk.  She turned to look over her shoulder a couple of times and then dodged into one of the retail stores in the strip mall. 

Should I follow her in?  If so, what do I say?  Or...do I turn around and back off?

With my hand nearly on the door handle of the store she just entered, I found myself faced with those two options.

Reluctantly, I chose to stop.  I turned around and walked into another store to cool off. 

As I stepped inside, I could feel the heat radiating through me.  What was I about to do?  Stalk a young girl?  Who was I about to become?  The crazed shopper who could've easily been filmed on a smart phone and turned into the latest You Tube holiday sensation?  Seriously?

As I regained clarity, I heard One Voice in my mind, "Why are you so offended? Bless those who persecute. Bless and do not curse." (see Romans 12:14)

They were the exact same words and life lessons my girls and I had been discussing the past month during our Bible and prayer time.  Bless.  Pray.  Turn the other cheek.  Don't be so easily offended.

I'll be honest.  In no way did I feel like blessing this young lady.  Not. At. All. 

No, because of this injustice, I'm ashamed to admit I felt like blessing her out instead.

But thankfully my Father intervened.  And in that moment, He renewed my mind. My spirit became willing even though my flesh was still struggling.

What story did I want to convey to my own girls when I returned to the car?  Did I want them to see a Mama who huffs and puffs and chooses to retaliate at the first sign of offense?  No.  I did not.

Technically, I know this girl didn't break a law.  But she did break the southern law of kindness while driving in a parking lot.  How should I respond?  As a child of God, I'm called to open my mouth and speak with wisdom.  On my tongue should be the law of kindness, not revenge (see Proverbs 31:26).

Looking back, I am so grateful for God's gentle whisper to get my attention.  I am so glad He stopped me from stumbling and kept me from further harm--to myself, to the young girl and to my witness with my own daughters and the rest of the Christmas shoppers. 

I am glad my husband and I were the ones she wronged.  If it had been anyone else on any other day, she may have left her shopping venture with four flat tires or a nice, long key mark on the side of her car.  :)

"Great peace have they who love your law;

nothing shall offend them or make them stumble."

Psalm 119:165 (Amplified)

How do you handle this world of offenses? Are you easily offended at the slightest injustice?  If so, let's pray to choose humility over pride. Kindness over woundedness.  Mercy over offense. 

By the power of the Holy Spirit, let's live unoffendable lives.

"Lord, grant me that new creation heart that can walk as Jesus walked, through a world of offenses without stumbling.  I want to see everything as an opportunity to pray, everything as an opportunity to become Christlike.  Lord, help me interpret offenses as opportunities that lead to transformations.  Grant me, Lord Jesus, the pulse and beat of Your unoffendable heart. Amen." ~ Pastor, Francis Frangipane

Good Gifts

"If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him!" Matthew 7:11

It's Christmas morning and I am the only one awake in my house, waking up nearly two hours before my alarm clock was set to go off.  Apparently, the excitement is just too much for me!  :)

Christmas.  The most wonderful day of the year!  It's the time when all the planning, all the preparation and all the presents align to make some very magical memories.

I absolutely cannot wait to see the girls' faces when they open their gifts in a little while.  Why?  Because this year we got them some really good gifts. 

Both girls will be getting their very own American Girl Doll.  Not just any ol' 18 inch doll.   Nope.  We went big and got them the real deal.

The gifts are a big sacrifice on our part.  They were costly.  They were extravagant.

So why such gifts this Christmas? 

Because we love our daughters.  Period. 

No, we do not spoil them.  No, we will not always be able to make this kind of purchase.  But...

This year they made no wish lists for material things. 
This year our family tried to focus on giving to others instead of receiving only for ourselves. 
This year we tried to revel in the joy and contentment of our eternal treasure in Christ versus the temporary trinkets of this world.

And as I wait for them to wake up, I can't help but wonder.  Will they know how costly their gifts are?  Will they understand the sacrifice we made?  Will their hearts be truly grateful for their gifts?

Hopefully, their new dolls will become their best friends.  Hopefully, they will honor and respect the extravagant gift they've been given.  Hopefully, they will express great joy and gratitude when they receive them.  Hopefully, they will treasure the good gifts they've been given. 

And as these thoughts dance around in my mind this morning, I think of my Heavenly Father.  I can't help but wonder if He thinks similar thoughts of us and His good and perfect gift to us. 

Perhaps He hopes we will pause this morning. 

Take a moment to notice.  To remember His Son.  To give thanks for the costly, extravagant gift He planned in advance to give us thousands of years ago.  

Maybe He hopes to see great joy and great contentment expressed in our hearts as we awake to Christmas.  

After all, He's given us the greatest gift we could ever receive, His one and only Son.  Jesus. 

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!"
2 Corinthians 9:15

Christmas 2011
Shortly after receiving their gifts!  Big smiles!

 



Coming Soon

For the last four weeks, our family has been participating in something we've never done before.  We've been observing Advent. 

Neither my husband, nor I, grew up celebrating Advent.  Neither of us were familiar with its traditions or meaning.  Though I'd read of other families who observed Advent and had even seen an Advent candle wreath in a church, I had no prior knowledge of what the season truly meant. 

This year I had to know.  I had to know its meanings and why so many observed it.  What I discovered and what I have experienced has changed me.  Forever. 

The word, "Advent" means "coming".  During the season of Advent, which typically begins four Sundays before Christmas and ends on Christmas Eve, we are reminded of our desperate need for a Savior. 

As we are celebrating His first "coming", as a baby in Bethlehem, we are also looking forward to His second "coming", as our Righteous King from heaven. 

Advent, as I am learning, is also all about waiting.  And nobody likes to wait.  We all want what we want when we want it.  Now.  Or maybe even yesterday.

Advent reminds us of how long the ancient Jews had to wait for their promised Messiah.  How they yearned for Someone to deliver them.  To heal them.  To redeem them.  To make all things new.

As they waited, they endured.  They endured even though they couldn't always see what God was doing.  They trusted.  They hoped.  They believed, all while they waited. 

It's the same thing for us today. 

We wait.  We endure.  We look ahead, and above, for the promise of Christ's return.  We wait with great expectation.  We hope for what we cannot see.  And in the waiting we are changed.  We become even more grateful for all gifts when they are finally received.

Focusing on the hope of Christ's coming is helping our family to slow down and remember how great His gift truly is. 

Each night as we come together to read the Advent devotions from Ann Voskamp's "Jesse Tree Journey", we are taken back through the holy scriptures.  We journey through Old Testament accounts and find significant meaning and prophetic connections to the One who came two thousand years ago. 

And because He came, we can come. 

We can come boldly and freely to His throne of grace.  (Heb. 4:16)
We can come to Him and never go hungry.  (John 6:35)
We can come, thirsty, and take the free gift of water of life.  (Rev. 22:17)
We can come take our inheritance, the kingdom which was promised for us since the creation of the world.  (Matt. 25:34)
We can come out of our boat as Peter did and walk on water.  (Matt. 14:28-29)
We can come and follow Him, becoming fishers of men.  (Mark 1:17)
We can come to Him when we are weary and burdened down with life.  (Matt. 11:28)
And our little children can come, too, because the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as them.
(Matt. 19:14)

He extends His invitation to us to come.  To come worship Him.  To come bow down Him.  To adore Him, Emmanuel, this Christmas.

If He never came, then we could not come.

Thank You, Jesus, for coming.  Thank You for Advent.  Thank You for the chance to focus on You.  Thank You for the chance to celebrate Christmas with more meaning and more depth.  I needed it.

"He who testifies to these things says, 'Yes, I am coming soon.' 

Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus." (Rev. 22:20)

Light It Up

The blinking, strobe-like lights nearly blinded us inside our dark car. 

Every time they kicked their little feet together, a myriad of colorful lights illuminated the blackness surrounding us.  The girls were amazed and easily entertained with their new shoes.  Especially at night.   

The first time they tried them on, though, was in the middle of the afternoon.  Daylight covered the room, making it difficult to see their new shoes do what they were promised to do.  Our advice to them:  Go find some darkness and light it up. 

They raced to the bathroom.  Lights off.  Door closed.  Pitch black.  Each time they stomped their feet, jumped up and down, or took a step, the room lit up.  The path was made clear in front of them and they could see where they were going.

Four years ago to the date, I found myself in a very dark place. 

Stumbling around, trying to find my way, blinded by the eclipse that surrounded my heart, spirit and mind.

For whatever reason, this mammoth black cloud had descended upon me and I could not see.

Could not feel.  Could not breathe.  As much as I tried, I could not, for the life of me, catch even a shimmer of light because of the cloud's looming presence.

As the days passed, I became more and more desperate for light to return to my little world.

I tried to pray.  I tried to read.  I felt alone.  I felt numb. 

Then one day, I decided to write out every scripture I could find pertaining to light.  When I finally finished, a long list of truths stared back at me.  A multitude of promises from the Light of the world Himself.  He, who merely spoke the words, "Let there be light" and radiance ruptured the darkness, inviting Creation to come forth. 

As I sat on the sofa in the stillness of a cold, December morning, I gazed at the white lights covering our Christmas tree and prayed. 

I asked the Lord to send forth His light and His truth to guide me (Ps.43:3).
I asked that the darkness would pass and the true Light would shine (1 John 2:8).
Above all, I asked Him to turn my darkness into light (Ps. 18:28).

Piercing light shattered the darkness above me, ripping off the cloak of heaviness and replacing it with His garment of light (Ps. 104:2). 

Out of the brightness of His presence, the clouds advanced (Ps. 18:12) and I could see.  Clearly.  The burden lifted and my vision was restored.

This is the season of lights.   Lots of lights.  Everywhere. They cover all three of our Christmas trees. They are intertwined around the greenery draped across my fireplace mantle. They encircle the columns on my porch outside.   Every time we plug them in, the darkness is pierced by the warmth of the lights.

We, who like Saul on the road to Damascus, have been blinded by the bright love of Christ are witnesses to the true Light who came into the world as a baby thousands of years ago.  As we follow Him, He promises we will never walk in darkness, but have the light of life (John 8:12).

There may be many this Christmas season who are not basking in the light of the Son.  For whatever reason, self-inflicted or otherwise, they have found themselves groping around in the darkness, cold and alone.  They are desperate to find the light at the end of the tunnel, promising the hope of something better ahead. 

They need to see and know, so they can put their trust in the Light. 

But they may only be able to do so when we go find some darkness and light it up.