Tag Archives: family

The Lunch Date

I was a mess!  Stinky.  Sweaty.  Stressed out.  Family was coming to visit, and there was so much to do to get our house ready for them.

Clutter drives me crazy, but it seems Monday through Friday it is an unwelcome visitor that just doesn’t know when to leave.

Overwhelmed by the amount of work, I couldn’t even make a to-do list (which I love, and have been known to put finished tasks on the list after-the-fact just so I could feel the satisfaction of crossing them off!) because it all made my head spin.  Our family had not found our groove for the new school year; my son’s birthday party was that weekend (an entirely separate to-do list!); and four precious family members were literally en route to our house.

Our extended family doesn’t care what our house looks like, thus I was only going to this much trouble in part for them.  I had surgery just a few weeks before, and I was set on convincing myself, and proving to everyone else, this wasn’t going to stop the normal flow of our lives no matter the toll it took on me.

My heart pounded to the rhythm of the dishwasher, while I blankly stared at the clothes swirling around in the washing machine – as if my icy glare would make the washer work any faster.  Just when I thought it was somewhat manageable to get it all done, I turned around and caught a glimpse of our dirty, stinky dog.  She has this ritual of what we call “moling” in the grass when we walk her.  She doesn’t walk.  She puts her head down, muzzle to the ground, and sticks out her tongue.  Then she takes off on her extendable leash and runs as fast as she can (throwing my back out once and costing me a few trips to the chiropractor, thank you very much) so she can lap up the morning dew off of the grass.  Needless to say, she comes home wet and dirty with leaves and tiny sticks stuck in her fur.  She’s one happy dog.  But she was gross!

So into the laundry sink she went for a rapid home-spa, which with all her drama surrounding bath time I ended up as wet as she was.

Yep.  Stinky.  Sweaty from hauling the vacuum up and down stairs, cleaning floors, dusting, primping pillows, making beds, running errands, etc.  Basically, I was trying to make our home look like no one lived there – which is impossible with five people and one crazy dog – and an African Pygmy Hedgehog to boot.  It definitely couldn’t look like we were in the throws of a new school year, which reeks havoc in all of our lives trying to buy the “right” school supplies on the 10th trip to the store that week.  Not to mention the impending birthday party or the fact that I was down an arm due to the shoulder surgery.

It was quite a feat to haul that vacuum all over creation one-handed, while trying to clean using my less-dominant hand.  Comical to say the least.  But, the real showstopper was when I looked out the window and saw the grass needed mowing.  Yes, one-handed.

There I was, zipping around in circles till dizzy, trying to control a mower that is lightening fast with my weaker arm.  It was challenging to say the least, but I conquered the mower and the grass eventually, though the grass looked like it had been mowed blindfolded.  Oh well.

I looked down at my watch, for the millionth time that morning, and saw it was 11:55am.  Oh no!  In five little minutes I had to be at a friend’s house for lunch.  Really?  Like this?  No way.

I scrambled for my cell phone to tell her I couldn’t come, but as I dialed her number I realized she had already made it – given I was supposed to be there by then.  What to do?

The house wasn’t done.  The food for guests wasn’t planned.  I had more errands to run and company would be on our doorstep in a matter of a few hours.  Not to mention the fact I had dog hair and grass stuck to me.  Dirt and sweat coated my arms and legs.  A baseball cap hid my atrocious hair underneath.  I smelled like a mix of earth, wet dog and baby shampoo.  No make up.  No energy. No time for lunch.  No time to chat.  No guts to say no.

Slipping out of my nasty yard shoes and into flip flops (at the time I thought they were a better choice so as to not leave a trail of grass in my friend’s home) I trudged down to her house not daring to look up at cars passing me by.

At her door, I took a deep, embarrassing breath and knocked.  Two little, angelic faces – about knee and waist height – appeared in the window.  Their shining smiles were only outdone by the excitement their dog showed as he pounced over them to get to the window.

My friend opened the door, and her eyes grew big when she saw me.  I said hello with a sheepish grin.  I was a sight to behold and we both knew it.  Thankfully, she is not a fair-weathered friend.  She is real.  Down-to-earth.  Gracious.  Funny.  Kind.  I couldn’t have shown up to just anyone’s house like this, but I knew she desired my company more than my choice of clothes.

We walked into the kitchen and my feet froze as I gasped!  There before my exhausted body was the most beautiful sight.  Lunch for two.  Real dishes.  Water goblets.  Shiny silverware.  Homemade chicken salad sandwiches with a beautiful spinach salad with strawberries and nuts.  Nestled in the bay window of her kitchen was the most welcoming table I had ever seen.  It was just for her and me.

Her young children, having already eaten, still tried to scam the strawberries off of the plates, but I just laughed.

I found my breath, blinked, and told her that #1, she went to way too much trouble, and #2, now I felt doubly bad for showing up in my humbled guise.

She reassured me it didn’t matter, and because I knew she meant it I knew I could stay and be comfortable.  I pulled out the gorgeous wooden chair with a delicate fabric overlay, and my weary bones sank into the cushioned seat.  She asked a blessing for our food, and I tried not to inhale even the plate as I had skipped breakfast in the name of time.

Nourishment and good conversation hydrated my wilted soul, and before I knew it we were chatting and laughing as the sun’s rays laced the windows and table.  It was truly a scene out of a book.

I was so glad I didn’t cancel on her at the last minute.  Although my watch screamed at me all day that I was late late late; and my shoulder was grumpy and telling me I was overdoing it; and the to-do list taunted and teased me; I needed this time with my friend – even though I had no idea I did.  Our time together was good to the last berry and giggle.  I left feeling stronger and with a tremendous sense of peace that people are more important than to-do lists.  Time with my friend was like a cold glass of water; a nap on rainy day; the smile of a loved one.  It was just what I needed.  Had I been too proud to go because of how I looked and smelled, I would have missed all of the sweet blessings that came out of our time together – both everything she had planned and our spontaneous conversations.

I walked home thinking about how often I cancel on God when He wants to meet with me.  He has planned something extraordinary for us each and every day, but because of being too busy, too tired, too distracted, or too proud (not wanting Him to see me in my sinful estate), I miss the fellowship, intimacy, joy, laughter, healing, company and teaching He has so lovingly designed for our lives.  We miss the peace and strength that comes from drawing from the Living Water, Christ (John 4:13), who is also the Bread of Life (John 6:35).  I have missed so much goodness that comes from spending time with our Abba Father, Creator, Redeemer, Restorer because I considered other tasks more time sensitive or more important that day.  Or, I knew my sin and didn’t want to come to Him all mucky like I was that day with my friend. Later, God, once I’m all cleaned up.  But later never comes.

We can get so wrapped up in our own little worlds, we miss the bigger plan – our destiny – that may lie just around the corner revealed in a conversation with God.  We spin our wheels on things that don’t make an eternal difference.  We stress and strain over tasks that most people never even notice – much less comment on.

That lunch was one of the most precious times I’ve ever spent with a friend.  She invited me and asked me to bring nothing.  She welcomed me in her home despite how dirty I was, and treated me like a queen for no reason at all except that she loves me and wanted to show me so.  It was nothing I deserved or expected, it was a gift given freely.

That is exactly what God does for us.  He plans, prepares and invites us to His table.  He actually wants us to come with empty hands so He can fill them with blessings like joy, peace, encouragement and strength.  He wants nothing from us except to be in communion with us.  To be part of our day, involved in our stuff, so He can bear the burden and share the load.  He wants to show His love for us, but too often I’ve left Him sitting at a table for one.

It was that lunch date that changed my thinking about spending time with God.  It revealed the pride that holds me back.  The mis-prioritizing of tasks that leaves my head spinning and stomach churning.  The giant hole in my heart that aches until the only One who can fill it, pours His living water into it and fills my soul.

Even though I’ve been walking with God for a long time, I need to be reminded that I can make things unnecessarily complicated between Him and me.  The game of hide-and-seek is all me.  He’s not hiding from me at all.  Rather, He’s waiting for me and for you.  Waiting for us to come, just as we are, and respond to the invitation.  To relationship with Him over our own special table for two.  He sits and waits eternally patient on His children, because He will never leave.  He can’t because He cannot break His own oath to Himself – even when we cancel on our end.

Meeting with Him is not about checking yet another obligation off the to-do list.  It’s about responding to an invitation, just like my friend’s, and coming with open hands and hungry hearts.  He just wants to be with us.  Every day.  The table is set.  He is waiting to listen and to speak.  To laugh and cry with us.  To dream and plan with us.  To discipline and disciple us.  To challenge and to hold us.

Will you join Him?

Diary of Thankfulness

Today I found myself saying, Thank You, Lord, throughout the day and want to write these moments down so as to not forget the blessings that make an ordinary day extraordinary.

I am thankful for the opportunity to stay home with my sick child.  I remember when I was his age, if I was sick I had to stay at my grandparents’ home for the day while my mom worked.  She wanted to be home with me, and I knew that even as a tween, but she had no choice.  My grandparents were wonderful people.  I loved them dearly.  But, no one fully replaces a mother’s touch.  She knows what your favorite drink is, television show is, and when you took your medicine last.  I got to be that to my sweet boy today.  With every cough, I winced in compassionate pain.  With every ringing of the thermometer, I said a prayer it wasn’t high.  I loved being able to put socks on his feet and kiss the bottoms of them, breathing in the smell of clean laundry.  I loved propping his pillows, filling his humidifier and stroking his hair.  I am blessed to be here for my family and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I am thankful that I had to park so far from the doors of Wal Mart this evening.  I trolled the parking lot in my van, like everyone else, hoping for a close spot.  It’s cold and wet outside – bleck – and I wanted to get inside asap.  But, no such space could be found.  Two blessings popped up in the parking lot aisle.  First, I was stuck behind a couple walking so slowly I thought I would go insane!  They never once cared that I was behind them.  They were intent on their conversation, pushing their cart and looking at each other while speaking.  Their gray hair and wrinkled skin were signs of many years together.  My frustration (because had they moved over a few feet I could have driven around them) turned into a longing that I hope to be old and gray, leaving the store with my man, and be so in love after all those years that I cared not who was around me as long as I was with him and listening to the sound of his voice and admiring the smile on his handsome face.

I am thankful for grace.  I am a rule follower, but not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.  After meandering around the super center (overwhelming!), I snaked my way to check out.  The endless checkouts were full of people.  My head spun.  I found a 20 items or less lane and dashed for it.  Once in line, I began to count my items.  Ug.  There were a few more than 20 hiding beneath the bulkier stuff that covered them.  I don’t care if someone with more than 20 is in front of me, but these days everyone keeps their panties in so much of a wad that I had no idea what society would do to me.  Trust me, I’ve had people say the weirdest things to me over the years for far less than 20+ items.  The cashier was just as friendly to me at the end of the sale as she was at the beginning – after ringing up said 20+ items.  I really appreciated her turning a blind eye.  And, for the woman behind me.  She could see into my cart – full view.  But, she said nothing.  I was late picking up my other kids, it was dark, hubby was at home with sick son waiting with dinner…I really just needed to check out and leave.  It’s as though God shushed everyone and let me pass.  If we are honest, we all need a pass sometimes.  That’s why I don’t freak out when I’m the one waiting in line behind said 20+ item customer.  It must be their turn for a pass.

I am thankful that I could go to the store and replace the empty bag of cough drops, a bottle of vitamin C and honey without fearing an overdraft in my account.

I am thankful for driving my teens all over town tonight to their activities because: it means they are healthy and can do a sport they love to do, we have a van to drive around in that is warm and reliable (and although it’s 6 years old it’s paid for!!!), and it creates stolen moments of time with my teens that lends itself to great conversation with a captive audience – and that goes both ways.  My son drives, so he gives me a break and the 3 of us get to shoot the breeze about our days.  It is precious time that is the fabric of our days.

I am thankful for a faithful husband and children who love me no matter what.  We are a motley crew of love, forgiveness and laughter all wrapped up into one ball of organized chaos and I love it.

I am thankful for my dog who always greets me at the door – every single time.  She thinks each of us hung the moon!  Everyone needs someone in their life who thinks they can do no wrong – even if that someone is furry and walks on all fours.

I am thankful for a hot meal and deeply spiritual conversation with the family tonight.  Good stuff.  Nothing taken for granted.

I am thankful for a moment tonight to reflect on some of the blessings of the day.  These are just a few.

I am thankful for the opportunity to pray for friends and family.  We are community and have each others’ backs.  What would I do without them?

I am thankful for praying over my children.  What an honor.  I love that my oldest son, in the nest for only a couple of more years, still comes to me at my computer late at night just to tell me he loves me one more time.  And for my daughter who asks me to help fix her hair.  For a teenage girl to ask her mom to help her with her hair – that’s a huge compliment!  I love how she and I have our own girl club here, being outnumbered by the guys and all.

People spend too much energy rating their blessings.  If it’s big, then it’s special and deserves praise.  I love the big blessings, but it’s the small ones that remind me how well God knows me – and that’s a big deal.  He finds ways to bless us that are so personal, so unique to just our lives, it makes me smile and shake my head in wonder.

I am thankful for His love, protection and hand of mercy that leaves its fingerprints all over my life.  When a believer begins to grasp the grace and mercy and unconditional love God has for us (and the whole world), then we can release all of our worries and fears and fully trust Him to work His plan in our lives.  That is true contentment, and I am going to sleep tonight feeling very content.  I hope you can, too.

Lastly, I am thankful for a healthy body that was able to do all of these things today.  Clarity of mind, physical strength and good health are far too often taken for granted.  I’ve watched loved ones suffer without one or more of these.  I’ve suffered without physical strength and good health.  When I lay down to go to sleep, it will be with a tired body that will know it’s a good tired because it was used in love and service to my family and community.

Tomorrow is another day, and I will look for the hidden blessings along the path God has willed for my life.  I pray the same for you.  Until then, here’s to being thankful for one of life’s sweetest, richest blessings…rest.  Ahh.

I prayed the wrong prayer

I’ve had missions on my mind heart and mind so much lately as sign-up deadlines approach.  In the post, An honest look at missions, I divulged some of the fears I’ve felt this year about returning to the global mission field.  In, The day I touched fear, I explored more deeply what those fears look like from the inside out.

Today, it’s a totally different story.  Just when I thought things were beginning to settle down in my mind, God had something unexpected prepared for last Thursday.

It began on Wednesday night.  We were at church for dinner before nightly activities began.  Serving the salad bar was a man I highly respect and admire (though I am not sure he knows it).  His and his wife have dedicated their retirement years to taking their grandchildren, one by one, on mission.  It is their gift to them.  I had never heard of this, but now, Lord willing, Bruce and I would love to do the same thing one day.  So my dear friend, Kermit, said Hello – always with a smile – when he saw me approach.  Hi Kermit!  I replied cheerfully, always happy to see him.

When I see him I think of one thing…Kenya.  He and his wife were part of our team in 2011 that went on mission to Kenya.  Let me just tell you that this man was incredible throughout the entire journey.  He never uttered a complaint, never said No, never looked tired, nothing!  He trucked on every day with whatever the agenda was.  Our team leaders, Don and Pat, also grandparents, as well as Kermit’s wife, Kay, were exactly the same way.  They have no idea how much I watched them work through every unexpected trial and celebrate every great moment.  Kenya was my first global mission trip as well as the first time I had ever left the States.  I was wide-eyed at the whole thing and loved every surreal moment.

Kermit was a mentor to me on that trip whether he realized it or not.  Whether it was sawing wood at an orphanage, washing feet at a children’s school on the side of the mountain, digging trenches for a foundation, or harvesting corn for an orphanage, his attitude was always an enthusiastic Yes.  At any given time you could find him quietly working – never for accolades, never bringing attention to himself.  He simply did what he came to do – serve.  And serve with a joyful heart he did.

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 194

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 195

He and his wife brought one of their grandsons with them who was graduating high school and wants to go into medicine.  He was able to observe surgeries at the only hospital in the entire area servicing 850,000 people.  So in addition to tireless efforts of physical work and long van rides across unbelievable bumpy roads, Kermit and Kay spent quality time with their grandson in the evenings encouraging him in his passion for medicine.

You can see why I am so taken back with them.  Role models.  Inspirational.

A few Sundays ago, when I was really struggling with feelings of fear of going on global mission, I stood with the congregation at church while everyone sang – but me.  Tears streamed down my cheeks.  I could not utter a word.  I was overwhlemed with emotion because in the choir stood men (including Kermit) and women who have been on mission all over the world, and yet they were able to stand and smile while singing Chris Tomlin’s song Whom Shall I Fear…

You hear me when I call, You are my morning song, Though darkness fills the night, It cannot hide the light…

Whom shall I fear?

You crush the enemy, Underneath my feet, You are my Sword and Shield, Though trouble lingers still…

Whom shall I fear?

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side.  The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

My strength is in Your name, For You alone can save, You will deliver me, Yours is the victory

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side.  The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

Whom shall I fear?  Whom shall I fear?

And nothing formed against me shall stand, You hold the whole world in your hands, I’m holding onto Your promises, You are faithful, You are faithful, You are faithful

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side. The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side. The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

The God of angel armies is always by my side.

(Read more: CHRIS TOMLIN – WHOM SHALL I FEAR (GOD OF ANGEL ARMIES) LYRICS)

 It has been people I know who have inspired me the most to take our family on mission.  Celebrities make headlines and win humanitarian awards, but far and away it is people who quietly go about the Lord’s business, sacrificing their hard-earned money and vacation time, who I look at and think, Maybe I can do it, too.

With that thought, an unexpected conversation came up between my husband and me.  I was sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot with the bright morning sun beaming into the van last Thursday.  I called him to briefly chat about missions.  We’ve been so upside down and inside out about it that we seem to talk in circles.  Frustrating.

I told him that I felt a new passion to go back to Ukraine.  As for Kenya, that is still undecided.  I heard myself say to him with confidence and certainty, I’m going to Ukraine.  He basically said, Okay, but I’m not sure what I’m doing.

After the phone call, I sat silent in the van.  Something didn’t seem right.  Why wasn’t I excited that half of my decision for this year’s missions had been finally – at long last – decided?  I should’ve felt relieved, joyful and sure.  Instead, I felt very anti-climatic about the whole thing.

God spoke to me in the van and said, Why is this only about you?  Are you not half of a whole?

Immediately, my heart understood.

To know me is to know I’ve struggled my entire adult life trying to live a life of biblical submission to my husband.  It’s not how I was raised, as my biological father and step father both left my life at early ages.  I grew to be a headstrong, independent and self-reliant woman.  Partially out of mistrust of men, and partially because I never wanted to be hurt again and believed people will only let you down – especially those who are supposed to have your back.

I have such a stubborn, independent streak in me it is nearly impossible to ever ask for help of any kind from anyone.  It’s not a control thing.  It’s an I’m going to end up having to do it anyway so why go through the grueling process of involving others because they are only going to let me down thing.

So, without me even realizing it, missions had become yet another area where I took the ball and ran.  Rather than looking at these opportunities with my heart toward my husband, I was peering through the glasses of practicality and reasonability.

I had been praying the wrong prayer of God, where do You want to send me?  Instead of, God where do you want to send us?

I didn’t even realize I had morphed my independent nature into missions!  Bruce and I are different people with different passions.  But, we are two halves of a whole.  When we made a covenant oath at the altar almost 23 years ago, we were joined into one flesh.

Leaving consideration for him out of my prayer was selfish.  And it was the feeling of, I got my way, that I felt in the van that left me celebrating alone.

Despite my good intentions of doing God’s kingdom work here on earth, my carnal nature creeped into my thoughts.  Here’s why…the first two mission trips were very scary for me.  I am not a seasoned world traveler.  I am not bilingual.  I am not proficient in cultural differences around the world compared to my own – other than the obvious ones.

It was all of these I’m nots that kept me from feeling qualified or invited to go on mission for my entire life until now.  Fast forward – jumped those hurdles, but it still took more courage than I could muster up to commit, particularly because these mission trips involved taking our children which I take very seriously.  I needed Bruce to make the final call.  As the leader of our home, I needed him to say yes or no.  So for both trips, I passed the baton to him to decide.

This year, however, it felt very different for me.  I’ve been to both places, so there aren’t near as many unknowns.  I also understand more what is expected from me from the team.  I simply feel more prepared than before – as much as it is possible to feel.

Enter my stubborn independence.

I was ready to possibly take an entirely different mission trip from my husband, without ever hearing his final point-of-view…and God let me feel every last ounce of that loneliness.

There is a time and season for everything, and I am sure there will come a time when we do participate in different mission trips, but neither one of believe that time has come yet.  It was out of sheer self-reliance that I went ahead and told him what I was going to do.  Hmm.  Then God brought to mind our crazy life.  Between work, kids, and all of our commitments, we have to scratch and claw for anytime together.  It could always be worse, but it’s not ideal.  We know this is a season of life, and all too soon our house will be deafeningly quiet and I will mourn for the wonderful chaos that greets me in the morning and tucks me in at night.

Given that, why would I not bat an eye at the possibility of spending weeks apart?  I believed my own lie of being too independent.  God brought to mind my biological father and his wife.  You’ve never seen a closer couple.  They were best friends.  Inseparable.  Loving.  Considerate.  Two halves that made a beautiful whole.

I want that.

Watching her care for him in his last days, the intimacy they shared – the eye contact, touch, whispers, – was the result of many years of building a marriage that was committed.  Resolute.  I used to think it was a little over the top that they always had to sit together, go places together, etc.  Now that he is gone, I see that they were intentional about making the most of their time together.  There were their own persons, yes, but they never forgot they were two halves of a whole.

After pondering all of this, still sitting in the parking lot, I texted Bruce.  This is what I wrote, Hi Honey, I wanted to tell you that after giving it a lot of thought, I would rather go with you on mission to wherever than without you on mission to wherever.  I often think about Ray and Gail and their relationship.  They were inseparable.  They were best friends and did everything together.  I would like to see that for us in missions, so I concede to wherever it is you want to go just as long as we can be together or unless God says differently.  We are one flesh, one team, and I don’t want to break up the team.  Think about it and let me know.  I love you.

That text was surprisingly freeing for me!  I felt like my heart was finally in a place of peace.  Funny, the first two years I needed him to make the decision as to where to go. This year, I asked him to.  I may have felt my inner wild horse buck and kick, but my heart knew that missions isn’t one more thing I want to lead us on different paths.

Yesterday, a dear friend of mine (who went to Ukraine with us last year) asked me if we were going to sign-up for it this year.  With a calm, peaceful smile I was able to genuinely reply, I’m waiting on Bruce to make that call…and if so, I’m leaving it up to him to sign up us.

That, friends, is the work of the Holy Spirit because the independent woman writing this would normally take matters into her own hands.

She smiled at me and said, Oh, you’re working on the “s” word, huh?  I laughed because I knew what word she meant – submission.   Indeed I am.  Waiting for Bruce to write our names down is very important to me for whatever reason.  I suppose it shows his iniative after much prayer and discussion, though I haven’t told him this is my wish.

Last night, before we left to watch the Superbowl with some friends, Bruce casually told me as we gathered coats and a chocolate cake,  Oh by the way, earlier today I put our names down for Ukraine.

His words stopped me in my tracks in the middle of the kitchen.  Later, I circled back with him and inquired.  He agreed that this is the only option for our family to go on mission all together.  He feels a peace about it and we are all excited.  God knew my secret wish for Bruce to write our names down on any of the trips we take this year, and He directed Bruce to do so out of loving consideration for me.  God is the good God and knows our secret thoughts.  Incredible.

So, one decision down and one to go – Kenya.  God has given us much peace that this decision will come in His timing, not ours.  So be it.  For now, I look forward to going back to people we fell in love with in Eastern Europe; to work with a team we greatly admire; we get to take all of our kids; and…most of all…Bruce and I have the blessing of going on mission together.

God is good.  Actually, He is amazing!  Every year, the decisions we have made about missions have been completely unique to the trip.  This year is no different.  God’s ways are not our ways, and His timing certainly doesn’t hold itself to our society’s demand for instant information, but His ways are best.  Had He given us the answer early on, I would have missed a teachable moment to see that in this process, Bruce and I walked dangerously close to the line of separating our longitude and latitude, once again, for the good of the cause.  We do enough of that in our daily lives.

When the time comes to travel separately for missions, God will give us a peace about that and we will perfectly okay with it.  For now, I write to testify that Philippians 4:6-7 really works in and through all things – even with a strong-willed, autonomous person like myself. 😉

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.

Today, and on mission, I won’t forget I am half of a whole.  Colossians 3:15 reminds us – Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.

Thankful, indeed.

Perhaps that’s the problem

The downpours and cold wind this morning reflect not only the weather, but the atmosphere inside our home today.  Between oversleeping, bad traffic, final exams, and PowerPoint presentations due, we all scurried around trying to get everything together and still be on time to everywhere we needed to be.

My daughter, in particular, was having a hard time.  We all have those days where nothing seems to go right – and feeling rushed adds insult in injury.

Finally, everyone was there they needed to be, even at the expense of me missing my commitment.  As I stood still, trying to figure out where the day goes from here, God whispered to me that my baby girl needed something.

Like what? I asked.

Love, He answered.

I immediately began to think up ways I could show her love this afternoon like going to Starbucks, replenishing her eye shadow that just ran out, having a nail painting session, etc.

But all of that would have to happen after school.  God pressed me that her need just couldn’t wait.

I literally looked at the shower stall in my bathroom and thought how badly I needed one.

Nonetheless, I replied, I’m on board, God.  Mission Love.  What do You want to do?

I want to give her flowers, He answered.

Can I tell you that just makes me cry?  God is our Good Father, Abba Father, Sovereign God, and Lover of our soul.  He wanted to give His child, His beloved daughter, flowers.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at the clock.  I had less than 30 minutes to get out the door, buy the flowers and deliver them to the school before the window of calling students to the office closed until this afternoon.

I raced to the coat closet and grabbed my parka.  I threw on my faithful baseball cap that covers a multitude of mistakes with unwashed hair and put on my athletic pants and running shoes – not caring in the least what I looked like.

Jumping in the van, I took off for the grocery store.

Tick tock.

Standing in front of the flower selection, one beautiful bouquet stood out among the rest, and it just so happen to have her favorite colors flowers in it.  Got it!

Next, I passed by the Valentines Day candy selection and chose a small, 3 piece box of chocolate shaped like a heart with a picture of a rose on the front of it.

I already had a card set aside just for her.

Saying hello to one of my favorite cashiers who is like family to us, I paid for everything, and bolted.

Tick tock.

Arriving at school, I parked and began to sign the card.  I wrote that God wanted our girl to have these flowers.  His words went something like this,  Just like I designed and dressed these flowers beautifully, so  I designed and dressed you, my beloved daughter, even more beautifully!  

On Bruce’s and my behalf, I wrote, The chocolates are from your dad and me because we think you are really, really, really, really sweet!  Remember, no matter how dark the clouds are, and no matter how much they may rain on us, behind them, the “Son” still shines for you and through you.

Tick tock.

I brought a roll of tape along and taped the chocolates to the card and taped the card to the bouquet.

Daring the downpour, with no time left to spare, I raced across the parking lot into the dry building.  Breathless, I asked, Good morning!  Have they called the announcements yet?

The woman staffing the front desk said they just took the list to the office.

Off to the office I raced.

I threw open the door to the office and both women at their desks looked up at me and the bouquet of flowers in surprise.

May I add my daughter’s name to the list to be called?

We are new to this school, so I am still learning the ropes.  Their response was unexpected.

Um.  I’m not sure.  Let me check.  I think it’s against policy to allow these.

Whoa.  Really?  I never saw that coming.  But, they were from God, so how do I explain that???

Rather reluctantly, the woman went into an office to ask.  I was puzzled at her anti-climatic attitude.

Before she left the room, she left me with some thoughts.  She said, We usually don’t get flowers except for teachers.  Is this a birthday?  

No, it’s not, I replied.

She continued, At my old school, it was against school policy to carry flowers around all day.

Uh, okay, I said, hoping her old school policy didn’t apply here.

While she was gone, the other woman said to me, I have to ask, if they are not for a birthday, then why?

Trying to hold back my mamma’s tears, knowing what a hard time my daughter was having, I answered honestly, Because sometimes a girl just needs to get flowers.

She paused, took her glasses off, and stood up.

Great.  I’m probably in trouble now, I thought to myself.

She walked over to the counter where I stood and said, You’re absolutely right.  In that moment, her heart melted, as most women’s do over flowers.

She continued, If they won’t let you give these flowers to her, then she can keep them up here for the day and pick them up on her way home.

At that moment, MY heart melted at her kindness.

She sat back down at her desk and mouthed to me silently, Just know it’s an option.

The first lady came back out to me and said, I’m sorry, but they are just not allowed.

Why? I asked – genuinely confused.

She’s not allowed to take them to class because it will cause a disruption.

Okay, so can she keep them in her locker?

They will die.

I don’t think they will die in a matter of a few hours of a school day.

To know me is to know I hate conflict.  I just hate it and all the drama that goes with it. But, God wanted His daughter to have these flowers, and by golly I was going to fight for Him to give them to her…and asked for Him to fight for me as I stood there dripping wet, still holding the flowers.

It’s just not allowed.

I’m sorry, but why?

Because if we allow her to get flowers, then we’d have to allow that for all of the students.

And…what’s the problem with that?

Ha!  I stumped her.  She had no legitimate response and stood looking at me with frustration.

May I speak with who you asked? I asked calmly and with a smile.

Tick tock.

Sure, she said with displeasure.

The dean of students came out to greet me and told me the same thing I had just heard.  And by now, another woman (I have no idea who she was) was standing and watching this.

Oh, but they didn’t know I had a wild card.  Remembering the offer of letting the flowers stay in the office for the day (for everyone to enjoy on this gloomy day I might add) I played that card and proposed the office option.

The names of students to come to the office were literally being called as the dean and I spoke.

Tick tock tick tock!!!!!!

I held my breath, waiting for the okay from the dean.

She agreed, and just as she did, my daughter’s name was called over the intercom.

With not a second to spare.

I asked if I may wait and give them to her in person and explain the office procedure.

So there I stood in the hallway as a swarm of students passed by looking at a mom in a soaking wet parka and running shoes, holding a big, bright bouquet of flowers.

I turned around and saw my girl waiting in line with the other students that were called.

I held out the flowers and said smiling, These are for you.  The card will explain why.

We walked to the office together and put them in a pretty vase they set out just for us.  She and I turned to leave, but as I did I looked over my shoulder and mouthed to the compassionate woman at the desk who offered the wild card, Thank you, as a tear trickled down my cheek.

She smiled silently back at me and nodded.

As I left the school, something the first woman said to me wouldn’t let me go.  It’s why I am writing this post today.  She said, If we allow her to get flowers, then we’d have to allow that for all of the students.

Maybe that’s the problem?  Remember, God told me to do this so I take no credit, I was just the messenger.  But, perhaps if more parents would be willing to make their family second priority under God, then a ripple effect of love and confidence would be evident at school.  Statistics today show that children are more stressed out, are on more medications, and attempt suicide more often than in preceding decades.

Maybe they need a mom or dad to allow their day to be interrupted and do something out of the box for their child.  Kids are sending us signals all the time of what they need from us.  Are we listening?

God is sending us a word to speak over, or something special to do for our children, are we listening?

Are we willing to play the fool and be embarrassed over showing our children they are dearly loved?

I’m not advocating causing a scene or breaking rules, but as I found out today, there are often ways around an obstacle that offers a peaceful resolution.  Are we willing to advocate for our kids?

If not, why?

If not us, who will?

Now I know some would say that it wouldn’t be fair to the students who don’t have a dad or mom.  It would make them feel worse.

I get that because I lost my mom the summer before my senior year and didn’t have a dad. If anyone gets that point, I do.  But, think of how it could spill over to friends, mentors, and other relatives’ lives who could pick up the ball and run with it!

I would have given anything for someone to have brought me flowers in the middle of English class when every…single…day I struggled to find purpose for my life – feeling like I was a mistake and was left here to be nothing but a burden to my family and society.  I needed one person to show me I mattered.  That I was worth something of value.  I was loved. I would’ve been grateful no matter who the flowers, or note or chocolates, or whatever it was came from.

Our children today need to hear that they matter and they are worth it.  They need to hear God loves them.  We love them.  They have a future.  That they do fit in, even if we are their only safe place to feel accepted.

The easy thing would have been to wait and give the flowers to my girl at the end of the day when she came home.  But, God’s ways are not like ours.  We see only this moment in time. He sees time as one continuum, and if He took the time to urge me so in telling me it was as much about the timing as it was about the gift, then I’d better stop my agenda and listen.

If parents think their children are a-okay and are the exception and don’t need any extra effort from us to show how wonderfully they have been made, then parents aren’t listening. Their are no children who have it all figured out at 12, 14 or 17 – regardless of how many times their only response is, I’m fine.

Today, it was my daughter’s turn to feel special.  Wanted.  Loved.  Valued.  Important.  My boys will have their days, too, and I’m guessing God won’t ask me to bring them flowers to school, but I will be listening closely to the heartbeat of their lives to know when they need a boost, and I will be keeping an ear pointed to heaven waiting for instructions on how to show them they are so very loved.

Listen to your children.  Listen to the Lord.  Count it a privilege to get to be the secret agent acting as the messenger delivering God’s word of hope, love and a future.  Watch for the moment, and don’t let it slip by.  You may not get another chance.

Inspiration in an unexpected place

Pencils

Picking up the house, I made my usual way to the breakfast table/homework station. Scattered across it were pencils left behind by my kiddos from last night’s homework brigade.  As I scooped them up, I stopped and looked at them.

All of the erasers were worn off.

My first response was that I needed to buy eraser heads.  Oh, but that was too easy of a thought.

I stared at the pencils in my hand and thought about the hours my children put into their work.  Sometimes they are elated with mastering an academic concept, but other times they are so frustrated they want to quit.

But at least they try.

I, on the other hand, keep my dreams and ambitions locked away.  I fill my days with busywork.  It’s productive on the outside alright, but inside, it’s a shallow use of time.

There are projects that sit at the tip of the finish line, but never quite cross it.  Dreams that turn to ideas, but then fizzle at the reality of all they encompass.  Out-of-the-box stuff I’d love to give a go, if only I’d try.

Why not?

The typical.  Fear of failure and fear of success.  Both lame.  Both logical in their own right.

So the eraserless pencils are my motivation today to try anyway – no matter how strong those fears scoff.

I am inspired by my kids and they have no idea because they are busy trying their best and don’t see their mom standing in the background wishing she could be more like them.

To them, a wrong answer simply means another try.

I want to embrace the innocence of hope.  The resilience of 10th, 15th and 26th chances. The ability to accept frustration over a fail and not take it so personally.

My erasers stay pink and pretty because they are not used enough.  They are not used enough because I’m not willing to take the risks that make the magnificent happen in life.

That is changing.  There is a new person emerging these days.  A bolder soul who believes the cost is higher to not try at all than to try and fail.

My friend, Ann, gave a great reason today to turn away from excuses and get going – because we can.  She’s right!  Oh what we take for granted.

I’m excited to see what can happen – if only we will try.

Repeating insanity

My husband loves caring for his “woodland friends” as we call it – birds, squirrels, etc. We have a few bird feeders that hang outside our kitchen window that he stocks and oversees.

Recently, those little thieves (a.k.a. squirrels) found our new bird feeder.  Bruce thought he out-smarted them when he moved the feeder directly in front of the large, glass window pane.

Nope.

The squirrels simply climb the tree, anchor themselves in the Y of the branches, stare intently at the hanging feeder, then take a daring leap, hoping to land on the feeder. It’s a good number of feet away, and they are not flying squirrels.

Amazingly, they stick the landing every time.  However, they and feeder slam into the window, and I was convinced one unfortunate squirrel was going to go right through the glass, so I had my son move the feeder.  Also, I was tired of jumping every time I heard a loud bang against the window.  Problem solved, right?

Nope.

For two straight days, those crazy squirrels launched off of the Y branch into the air – and the feeder was no longer hanging!  They slammed into the window over and over, falling into the stick-filled bushes below.  I was sure I’d find a poor soul impaled in the azaleas.

Over and over these squirrels climbed, launched, flew, smacked into the glass and fell.  It was pitiful, but I had not an ounce of sympathy for them.  Couldn’t they see the feeder was gone?  What possessed them to jump when there was nothing there to catch them?

And, why did it take multiple times of this nonsense before stopping?

I was at the sink one afternoon washing dishes when a loud thud hit the window and out of the corner of my eye I saw a grey mass slide down the glass.  My word.

In fact, it took putting that bird feeder on the ground to show them it wasn’t still hanging.  Finally, they stopped.

Before I made too much fun of them, or just racked it up to stupidity, I caught myself.  I’m not much different than them.

They say that the definition of insanity is repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results (likely first quoted from from the book Narcotics Anonymous). This word technically has legal roots describing a person’s mental capacity, but in our modern tongue the definition is also used to reflect how we feel about a situation.

People are creatures of habit.

Most people don’t like change.

That’s why we keep doing the same things hoping for a different result.  We don’t want to have to find another path to the same goal.  Familiar feels safe.  It’s comfortable.  It’s predictable – even if, in reality, we keep hitting the window.

So it’s January 7th today and we’ve ventured into the first week of the new year.  How are the 2013 resolutions coming?  I have a friend who has been a long-time member of the YMCA.  She says that every January, member visits drastically increase.  However, for her and her friends who are faithful all-year long, they call these January members “tourists.” Funny! She’s right!  Inevitably the number of member visits drop off as the year progresses.

We watched the ball drop in NYC on T.V. this year.  Did you notice that as SOON as the celebration was over, the following several television commercials were for weight loss? Coincidence?  I think not.

Whatever the things are that we want to change in our lives, are we doing anything about them?  Finding a new normal regarding health, jobs, relationships, etc. can be frustrating to say the least.  It involves being open to something new and the courage to do it – not just once or twice for a week or month.

Why is establishing a new path so hard?  Arg!

We see the end goal, but there is a part of us that throws a fit when a new idea is introduced as to how to obtain it.  Boy I wish I had the answer.

I’m struggling just like everyone else trying to put on my big girl panties, grow up and realize that my current normal is a fail in some areas.  I don’t want to change.  I want to do what I want to do and still reach the goal.

How childish, but it’s exactly why we can’t seem to make it over the finish line.

So, something must change.  There are many noble reasons for change: obedience to God, commitment to family, the reality of health risks, realizing we are worth the try and so on.  And, our pesky, lifelong dreams that inspire us simply won’t leave us alone.  (sigh)

It would behoove us to take the time to identify what truly needs to change in our lives, then form a plan to achieve it.  Like running a race without a course or driving across the country without a map or GPS, without a plan we simply run or drive in circles…driving us crazy.

Once we commit to a plan, we need to settle on the specs of that plan.

Remember the television show Friends?  I will never forget the episode where George Castanza figures out that if, going forward, he makes every decision based on the OPPOSITE of what he would normally decide, then life would go his way.  Ha!  If only it were that easy!

(Photo credit click here)

Just a week inside the new year and I’ve already been confronted with temptations to hightail it the other way regarding things that need to change in my life.  It’s so tempting to quit the race before I’ve even broken a sweat.

Some of it is control.  I don’t want to give that up.  Some of it is fear.  Do I really trust God in these areas?  Some of it is sheer laziness   I, frankly, just don’t want a new normal even if it means staying this way prolonges the end goal.  Some of it is lack of enthusiasm – especially regarding the changes that will cramp my current style.  Some of it is that I don’t know what to do about what needs to change.

Psalm 37:5-7, Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him…

So in the presence of the Lord I wait, but need to be ready to move when He says move. That takes being intentional and exercising motivation whether I’m feeling it or not.

The word “tomorrow” is quick sand to the heart.  We sink deep in years-worth of tomorrows.  It’s suffocating.  Depressing.  Demotivating.

What does the book of James say about tomorrow?

James 4:13-14, Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow…

This passage speaks to boasting, yes, but it’s not unlike what we do when we talk a big talk about our plans that we know we procrastinate.  It’s like we somehow want credit for just saying the words of what we will do, when we haven’t done a thing toward actually doing them.

Jesus said in Matthew 6:34, Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

The opposite of empty boasting – worrying – can hold us back just as much.  This was true for me yesterday.  Our kitchen needs some long overdue repairs.  In fact, I’ve put this off for 15 years, and 15 years ago it already needed repairs.  There are simply too many decisions to make, too much money to spend, and it all makes my head spin.  Bruce and I had a lengthy conversation with the kitchen cabinet guy.  I told him I couldn’t find a color wood that worked for me.

He looked at me surprised and said, In all of these choices, there isn’t one color you like?

I scrunched up my face and replied, No, sorry.

Come with me, he insisted.

We walked over to the samples and he instructed, See all of these?  Pick out a maybe.  

A maybe?

Yes, a maybe.

I flipped through the same samples over and over and finally looked at him and again said, Nothing appeals to me.

No.  You must pick a maybe.

(Okay, this should be fun, right?  Waiting 15 years to fix some very real issues is not only sound wisdom to protect the investment of our house, but  it should be a happy occasion to finally consider the project.)

Begrudgingly, I flipped through them again and heard my inner child pouting.  He watched in amazement at my lack of decisiveness.

At long last, I picked a…maybe.

We sat back down at his desk as he proceeded to help me with my “color psychology” as I called it.

He said, If you could have any color cabinet in the world, what would it be?

I couldn’t answer.

You have to answer.

Ug. This guy was productively annoying.

Okay, see, what I like I cannot do because it’s too color specific and it wouldn’t be good for resale value and we may very well outgrow it in 5, 10 or 15 years.

Ah ha!  A breakthrough!  Deep down inside, I actually did have a choice hiding in the vortex of my brain.

Bruce and the guy looked at me with astonishment and asked why “years down the road” mattered to me.

I replied, Because I don’t want to have to do this all over again some day.  It’s hard to spend money on this right now with the economy, albeit quite necessary at this point in our kitchen.  I’m afraid. 

The guy looked at me and replied, You can’t think that far down the road.  Who knows what life will look like then.  Based on what you’ve told me, anything will be an improvement to what it is today.  Why worry about what you don’t even know will happen?

He is right.  It’s just kitchen cabinets, but he proves Jesus’ point on the more substantial things of life.

Uncredited boasting and worry sink our feet in tomorrow’s quicksand that inhibits us from making positive changes today.

Asking God for wisdom to see our lives through His perspective, forming a plan of change with His guidance, and exercising courage to take the first step – and keep stepping – is a plan for success.  After all, He knows us better than anyone (Psalm 139) and has a plan for a hope and future for us (Jeremiah 29:11).  And, He loves us.  He is the good Father.

Whether it be something tangible like house decisions, better health or jobs, or the intangibles like relationships or a godly perspective, change can be really good…and change is inevitable.

After all, the only thing that never changes is that everything changes. (Louis L’Amour)

Embracing the idea of change is where we start being productive toward the goal and stop hurting ourselves like those squirrels – chasing after something invisible that ended up adding nothing to their life except pain.

Let the journey begin.

A Different Silent Night

Christmas.  A time that comes once a year.  We decorate our homes, exchange gifts, dance to familiar tunes, watch It’s a Wonderful Life and enjoy tasty treats, but there is something else paralleling this season…it is reality.

Reality is often far from the picture-perfect Hallmark cards we mail to family and friends.

There is one Christmas I’d like to share. Years after my mom’s death, on Christmas Eve, I was a young bride enjoying my modest kitchen while preparing food for the family Christmas dinner always held at my grandparent’s home.  Vegetables simmered on the stove and a pie bubbled in the oven.  Without realizing it, I let my guard down.

See, I have this wall.  It’s a wall that was created when my life as a teenager was annihilated by reality.  Forced to grow up far too soon, my coping/defense mechanism was to build a fortress around my heart.  Walls so thick that nothing – absolutely nothing – could penetrate them and ever destroy me like I had already been.

But, in this particular holiday season, I wanted so badly to enjoy the experience of Christmas with all of the happiness it entails.  I let my guard down while standing at the stove, with flickering twinkle lights on the tree in the living room and stockings hung with care beside it.

This would be the Christmas I would actually let myself enjoy as I tended to my baking and cooking.

The phone rang.

It was my sister.

Granddad’s been taken to the hospital.  Meet us there.

I felt sucker-punched.  Breath flew out of my body and I couldn’t inhale.  I dropped the large, wooden spoon I was using and immediately turned off the burners and oven.

A cold, prickly sensation felt like an electrical shock all over my body.

My first response?  The wall came up.

My husband and I raced to the hospital.  Memories of just a few days before of my granddad throwing up blood from his lung cancer, and how my husband was the hands and feet in that crisis, replayed over and over and over.

The sound of my grandmother crying out in reflexive, desperate prayer in the panic, Jesus!  Lord Jesus! haunted my mind.

We reached the hospital and found him in ICU.  The prognosis – grim.

After being there for hours, taking our one-person turn in visitation with him, we were told to go home for the night and get some rest because there was nothing anyone could do.

I sat in the ICU waiting room feeling numb and helpless.  It was Christmas Eve.  My only prayer was this – Dear God, please do not let Granddad die on Christmas day.  Please.  I beg You.  After everything our family has been through, we couldn’t handle this.  Please don’t let his death overshadow Christ’s birth for the rest of our lives.

I was the peace-maker in the family.  This time would be no different.  My husband and I went home to gather a few things.  I grabbed the Christmas-printed napkins I bought earlier that week, some muffins I had baked, the music cassette recorder/player and a Christmas cassette, and my Bible.

We dashed back up to the hospital and I laid these things on the coffee table in the ICU waiting room.  It was a cold, sterile room.  The pleather furniture was stiff and squeaked, white walls void of warmth, no windows, the florescent lighting stung my eyes, and the stale air made me sick to my stomach.

The clock struck midnight and it was now Christmas – and we would celebrate it in remembrance of Christ and in honor of my granddad.

While we took turns checking on Granddad, I played the music very softly and offered muffins on the Christmas napkins to my grandmother, husband, sister and her husband.  I read Christ’s birth in Luke.

Every hour that passed, I never stopped begging and pleading with God not to take Granddad on Christmas day.

After a very long 24 hours, the clock struck midnight again.  It was December 26th. At 10am, the nurse came into the waiting room and said two words, It’s time.

All 5 of us jumped up and ran down the hall, holding my grandmother’s hands as we hurried.

The nurse tried to explain what was physically happening to Granddad, and that he wasn’t in any pain, but I couldn’t understand any of it.  There was something much more pressing on my mind.

I wasn’t sure if my granddad was saved.

He was a good man.  A great man.  Loving.  Kind.  Respectful.  Generous.  Funny.  Never missed church.  Tithed.  Blessed every meal.  Read the devotional, The Upper Room, every day of his life.

But still, I never, ever heard him profess a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

He did all of the things a Christian would do, but never having heard him share his personal faith in any way, I didn’t know for sure where he would spend eternity.  It is impossible to earn our way to heaven.  If that were the case, none of us would ever be enough, or do enough, to be good enough to make it there.

I stood beside Granddad’s bed and looked deep into his face.

The Holy Spirit prompted me to ask him about his faith.

Oh no.  No way.  I was the baby of the family.  My family already thought I was way too involved in my faith.  It was a touchy subject and I was a bit of the black sheep in this area.

No.  I can’t.  I just can’t.  I’m not going to stir up anything while he is dying.  I can’t do it in front my family.  It will upset them to hear me questioning his faith.  No.  Just no.

Do it.  You don’t have much time, the Holy Spirit urged me.

I just can’t!!!!!  I screamed in my heart in frustration, fear and anxiety.

Do it now, He pushed back.

There we were.  My granddad, my husband and me.  The other family members mysteriously stepped out of the room – I believe God miraculously led them out so we could have this moment.

I looked at Granddad, unable to speak, and thought about how crystal blue and beautiful his eyes were.  I rested my hand gently on his arm, careful not to disturb the I.V.’s sticking out in all directions.

Taking in a huge breath, the air caught in my throat.  I swallowed it down hard.  With hands shaking and the back of my neck sweating, I didn’t know how to ask a man of such character if he had accepted Christ in his heart as Lord and Savior.

Give me the words, God, please, I begged.

I tried again.  Granddad, I have to ask you something, I began as my heart pounded in my chest.  Would you like to dedicate your life to Christ?  I know you cannot speak, so just nod your head if you would like to.

With wide eyes, I watched for the slightest movement of his weary body.

He never took his eyes off of me, and to my utter shock and surprise, he ever-so-slightly nodded his head yes.  I couldn’t believe it!

Um, I said trying to remain calm having never been in this situation before, I will say the prayer for you, and you nod your head in agreement, okay Granddad?

He gently nodded again.

I said a prayer of salvation as if I were him, and when finished, he nodded in agreement.

Just a couple of minutes later – he died.

I stood by his bed stunned in bewildering belief that he nearly missed his chance to enter an eternity of life and blessing.

He was just a moment or two away from eternal separation from God.

Had I given into the tremendous fear of our family’s dynamics, or fear of presenting the Gospel, or any of the multitude of fears I felt at that moment, it would have cost him eternity.

It was a near miss and it terrified me.

I have no recollection of opening any gifts that year, but the best gift I received is knowing exactly where he is now.  With Jesus.  Perfect.  Healed.  Whole. Enjoying his daughter’s (my mom’s) company once again – never to say goodbye.

I am forever grateful that God honored my request and kept Christmas day about Jesus’ birth, and not my granddad’s death.

Christmas Eve and Christmas night were silent indeed.  But, they weren’t silent as in all is calm, all is bright.

All was very frantic.  Panicked.  Anxiety-filled.  All was dark.  Grim.  Hopeless for a happy ending this side of heaven.

This time of year, people are torn between trying to celebrate the season as best they can as loved ones lay dying in hospitals, husbands leave their wives, children rebel against their parents, threats against world peace fracture peace of mind, children are ruthlessly murdered at school, drunk drivers rob families of their precious ones, thieves break into homes and steal Christmas presents, companies lay people off two weeks before Christmas, medical reports come back positive, houses burn down from Christmas trees, and personal debt keeps on racking up.

It’s no wonder that depression and suicide rates leap this time of year.  Still, as I drove the streets of my city late last night picking up my child from a friend’s house, lights twinkle, inflatable snowmen wave, wreaths are hung and even a manger can be seen in some yards.

Why?

Why do all of this?  Go through all of this?  Play the role of Christmas?  No one can financially afford it anyway.  More homes are broken than not, so why try to pretend otherwise?  Marriage beds are defiled while jewelry companies advertise their diamonds as the perfect gift.  Friends aren’t speaking to each other, yet Christmas cards are exchanged between them.  People are desperately lonely and hide behind busyness to try to prove otherwise.

There are silent nights alright.  But, not all is calm and not all is bright.  The silence is deafening.  Behind closed doors parents cry themselves to sleep and husbands and wives give up and families settle for less, friends adapt to chilly relations, people avoid the credit companies’ phone calls, and most are wondering why they are even left on this planet.

Why have Christmas?

In the midst of the festivities all around me, even sharing it with my husband and children, today I stood in church singing Christmas songs while tears streamed down my cheeks.

Christmas, in America at least, has become so much about what we want that we have forgotten what we’ve already been given.

For me, my tears were because yesterday we went to a Christmas exhibit at a hotel, and I wasn’t prepared for how busy the hotel would be with guests.  It was packed with families reuniting.  Cousins, grandparents, in-laws, etc.  The little children were in their Christmas best.  One mom wanted to take her daughter’s picture by some pretty garland, and just as the mom snapped the camera, the beautiful little girl, wearing a plaid dress and hair pulled up in curls, stuck her finger up her nose.

Walking around the hotel, I felt a wave of grief hit me all over again of what I’ve lost over my lifetime.  Death, sickness, death, abandonment, death.  My heart sank.

Today in church, it was so crowded I’m not sure everyone found a seat.  Again, multiple generations sat together with grandpa’s holding babies while tired parents held each others’ hands.

So, my wishlist isn’t tangible.  Never has been.  Stuff is stuff and we can’t take any of it with us.  I miss my mom, grandparents, great-grandmother,  dad and father-in-law who are all waiting for me in heaven. I miss my husband’s family who is spread out across states, and my dad’s wife’s family who is also spread out across multiple states.

I mourn the loss of my childhood that was prematurely taken from me.  I miss the idea of having fond memories of growing up – of which there are very few.  I miss the loud homes filled with close and distant relatives and all of the craziness that brings.  It makes me want to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding again.

However, if I allow myself to stay in that dark place, I will miss Christmas this year as well.

God reminded me that I am, indeed, missing 2 important truths.

One, the day will come when I will have exactly what I have longed for my entire life – a huge family reunion.  It won’t be in this lifetime, but once it begins it will never end.  A party for eternity.  That’s worth waiting for.

Second, we’ve already been given the opportunity to make this reunion party possible.  Still, every year I almost miss the real meaning of Christmas.  I am so quick to be sad that my life doesn’t look like a Norman Rockwell painting, or Hallmark movie, that I get hung up on what I don’t have.

What I do have is a Savior that made an eternity with my Abba Father possible.  Without Christ’s birth, He wouldn’t have been able to die in my place for my sins.  I would be cursed forever to separation from Him.  But, because Christ robed Himself in flesh and became 100% man while still being 100% God, He lived a life that led to the cross.  Every day He traversed this earth was a day closer to bearing the worst punishment of all history – and He willingly did this for you and for me because God loves the world that much.

The first silent night of Christmas 2,000 years ago wasn’t filled with world peace and perfection.  Rather, it was tainted with Roman oppression.  A crazy Herod ruled and reigned.  There was political turmoil.  Community turmoil.  Family turmoil. Personal crisis.  Christ came to us anyway.

As I stood in church today singing, my tears of sadness were replaced with a peace that I don’t understand.  My husband had his arm around me, but Jesus’ hands were holding my heart.

Without shame or guilt, He gently nudged me back to the Father’s side so I could rest in the shadow of His wings (Psalm 91).  As I let Him peel away layers of hurt from my broken heart, He gave me new eyes to see the heart of Christmas.  God’s heart.  I was caught in a moment where everything was okay.  All of it.

Why?

Because Jesus reminded me He is in all of it with me.  There is nothing that separates us from the love of Christ (Romans 8:38-39).  And, He is enough.  Every blessing in life is icing on the cake.  What we are not given, He is still sufficient for us.

This Christmas, I am choosing to look not at what is missing from my life, but what has been given – a lifetime walking with God and a future with Him that will outlast time.

And, I will appreciate those blessings – like celebrating His birth with friends who are family to us.

May I challenge you as I challenge myself?  Will you place your wishlist in the hands of the Father and enjoy this Christmas simply for what it is?  Whether our lists are made up of jobs, good health, a baby, better finances, mended relationships, a mate, a home, a meal or presents for our children, can you join with me in knowing that the gift of Christ is enough?  More than enough?  That if nothing else in our worlds change by Christmas, or into next year, we will still thank Jesus for being the best gift of all?

It’s audacious alright.  Some may even call it ridiculous.

God gave up His only Son because He loves us that much.  We can come to Him with empty hands, even if they are stained with pain, and receive His love overflowing once again.

The best part is His love isn’t only given once a year like the presents under the tree.  It’s available 24/7/365.

I wish I could’ve ended this post with a big, happy finish and tied a virtual red bow around it.  But, life doesn’t always work like that.  However, just like my granddad who is now enjoying paradise, our happy ending is something believers can look forward to because Jesus defeated death and opened the only Way to eternal life.  Until that day comes, we can be grateful and thankful for the blessings, big and small, that God gives to make the journey’s load a little lighter and rest in the promise that we are never in it alone.

Peace to you today,

Kristi

A Private Party Invitation

During this busy season, it’s easy to find ourselves caught up in so many good things for others that our own families are, sadly enough, often the ones pushed to the bottom of the to-do list.

This year, with 5 of us going in 5 different directions, I sat down one day and looked at our calendar.  It seemed like there wasn’t any time to be with my crew (all in one place at one time) and enjoy the holiday season.

So, I set off to change that.  Surely there must be some time in here somewhere! I said to myself.

Yes!  Found some!  Thinking about how to package this time, I did something I’ve never done before.  I made a party invitation via evite.com only for my family.

In it, I wrote when, where, what to bring (a smile), and what to wear (pajamas).  It was going to be on a Saturday morning, so in the details I described everything our party would include: pancake and bacon breakfast, lighting our advent candles, assembling the LEGO advent calendar figures, watching a Christmas movie, choosing our Samaritan’s Purse gifts to finish out the bake sale, a sing-a-long with the piano and a board game.

Surprisingly, we all really got into it!  Declaring it a “formal” occasion made this event a big deal to all of us.  Everyone rsvp’d to the invite and at 11am our party began.

This really worked well, because all of us had details to finish (work, homework, etc.) and we were stressed out about how to juggle everything.  With a designated timed frame, we woke up whenever we wanted and knew that time was ours to do with how we needed to until 11am.  Then, until 3pm, nothing would interfere with our Family Christmas Party.  No work, phone, emails, iPads, texts or errands.  Just spending time together.

I had no idea how great this would be.  It’s like we all felt permission to simply keep the world waiting while we finally enjoyed the Spirit of the season as a family.

Christmas music played, we laughed, we chilled out together – all in our pajamas (our daughter and dog wore their matching set!) until almost 4pm.  A little slice of heaven for this mom who misses her kids – even though we live under the same roof.

I’m not sure this family time would’ve happened had not we made an intentional effort.  The things of this world chip away at our minds, time and energy until, as my 16 yr old said recently of his schoolwork, I feel like a work machine cranking endlessly.

It’s good to stop.  Rest.  Play.  Reflect.  Enjoy each other.  Enjoy Christmas.

Evites are free and they are fun!  If you haven’t truly stopped to enjoy your family this Christmas season, check out their website @ http://www.evite.com, or make your own (which I would have loved to have done, but knew it wasn’t going to happen – but more power to ya!) – leave a voicemail for family members with phones, write it in window markers or lipstick on the bathroom mirror, slip notes in a folded dinner napkins, put a post-it on their pillows…anything will work!

We made real memories that day that will stay with us forever.  We actually ran out of time to complete all of the festivities, but that’s a great reason to have the sing-a-long and board game for our next family party.  Anything to keep the family time rolling.

Have fun with your family this Christmas! Time and undivided attention is the best gift you could give your family – and yourself.

The Worst, Best Date

I am excited to continue the bake sale stories, but feel in my heart there is another direction God wants to go in today.  At this time of year, when everything is spinning out of control for so many – finances of holiday shopping, workloads to prepare for time off, housework for impending guests, final exams for kids, tempers and attitudes on edge, and the ever-high expectations, either internal or external, to make this the best holiday season yet – is there any hope of catching our breath?

Hardly!  With tragic events pounding people everywhere like waves of a relentless tsunami, both personal and national, it seems that there is nothing calm and bright about Christmas.

But wait!  There is something we can do that will make a huge and lasting difference in our families.

Spouses need a date night.  Everyone talks about husbands and wives needing a break from the precious little ones and their needs.  Yes, that is true.  But as the parent of two teens and a tween, just because they don’t need help with nearly as much as they used to doesn’t mean there is a ton of flexible time for my husband and me.

In fact, those late nights of bottle-feeding and rocking in the early years are replaced with the hum of our computer and ticking keyboards working hard past midnight as research papers, studying for tests and daily homework consumes sleeping hours.

Trying to get little ones to try new foods has turned into trying to make sure everyone has had some protein and good carbs before jumping on the hamster wheel at work and school for the day as they race out the door with a briefcase and 50# backpacks.

The “one more story” or “drink of water” delays at bedtime of past years has transitioned to me falling asleep on their beds waiting for them to finish caring for their braces, packing up their school things, and remembering everything the next day’s demands.

The energy exuded in conversations of the past about how clouds form and why trees drop their leaves has risen to epic proportions as we deal with the hard issues of the real world that has barged, often uninvited, into their childhoods.

I wish I could tell young parents that things get easier as kids get older, but it doesn’t (though the benefits of parenting teens are amazing!). The issues just change.  Serious problems occur in the family when the parents and children can’t/won’t change with them.

In order for that to happen, a major player in the scenario is that a marriage needs time. Time alone.  Time to decompress. Time to talk, fight, laugh and just chill.

I am as predictable as the sunrise in our marriage.  When time is neglected in our marriage, I become instinctively impossible to live with.  I’m grumpy, angry, edgy and moody towards my man.  Sounds like a party, huh?

Every time I find that my husband can’t do anything right, I’ve learned to stop and ask myself why I am being so critical.  Ninety-nine percent of the time it’s because of a lack of time being poured back into our marriage.

Marriages that function solely on autopilot eventually crash.

Holidays can be the worst for this scenario.  Recognizing this, once again, as my intolerance seems to be an unfortunate Christmas tradition, I asked Bruce for some time. The kids agreed.  Ha!  Even they see the signs.  Like a stomach churning with hunger or a headache from dehydration, symptoms exist for time-deficit in a marriage.  A marriage is a living thing that needs to be cared for just as our bodies do. We feed and clothe our bodies.  Likewise, we need to nourish and clothe our marriages to keep them strong and healthy, and to protect them from outside elements.  So off we went.

Bruce asked me, Wanna see a movie?

Nah.

Wanna go to dinner?

Nah.  I’m not hungry.

Wanna go Christmas shopping for the kids?

Nah.  I’m not in the mood.

Boy, I’m a tough sell.  What I really wanted was some private time for conversation with my husband to connect, discuss, and communicate uninterrupted – before midnight when neither of us are at our best or via text or email as is often the case.

I told him just that, so we drove off with well-wishes from the kids for our date night. Our daughter was especially excited about our “date” as she loves a good love story.

We wound up parked outside a familiar book store.  He suggested we go in, get some Starbucks, and relax in the big, frumpy chairs in the calm atmosphere of book-lovers.

It was raining and cold outside – the perfect night for a bookstore date.

I replied that I didn’t want to go inside.  I just wanted to sit.

There is no privacy in there.  I just want to talk to you without anyone else around, I explained.

So be it.  He turned the car off and there we sat.  In the dark.  In the rain.  In the chilly night air filling the car with people coming and going from the parking spaces all around us.

We talked for an hour.  A precious, uninterrupted 60 minutes (before having to pick up one of our children).  We were finally able to work through some things that had laid ignored out of a lack of time or energy, make plans, talk about feelings (yes, I just said that), and reconnect.

We never left the car.  After picking up our teen, we returned home and were greeted by our daughter.

So, what’d ya do?  What fun did you have?  You so deserve it.  Tell me!  Tell me!

Well, I replied, we drove to the bookstore, parked and sat in the car and talked.

She scrunched up her face, tilted her head to the side and said with a completely confused and anti-climatic tone, That’s it?  That’s what you did?

To her, it was a downer of a date.  Boring.  Uneventful.  Weird.

To me, it was awesome!  I got the full attention of my man for an hour in the midst of a blessedly crazy season of life.

If you haven’t taken time with your spouse lately, I encourage you to do it.  I’ll never forget the advice someone once gave us a long time ago when, as newlyweds, we were completely broke and were consumed with working our way through college together. He said, You should go on dates  now with your spouse because it’s a lot cheaper  – and more fun – than therapy later if you don’t.

Some may believe the trap that they can’t afford to take the time or spend the money, but based on statistics of marital problems and divorce, I beg to differ that marriages can’t afford not to do it.  This date night of reconnecting doesn’t cost anything, but the time spent investing in reconnecting is priceless and gives us something to treasure – and the entire family reaps the reward.

A New Advent

Is it okay to break away from tradition at Christmas?  Perhaps that depends on which tradition.  For our family, it was time to step out and try something new with advent candles.

When the vision of a new advent candle scene came to mind, I felt a little guilty, like I was breaking a rule or something.  It felt legalistic.  Sacrilegious.  Freeing!

Earlier this month, I had an unexpected and disgusting surprise in our attic (via post Christmas Shocker!).  One thing we couldn’t keep was our advent candle wreath, so we started from scratch.

I could have bought a pretty or ornate one, but when I stopped and thought about it, after all the years of my life, I still cannot recall the 4 meanings/Sundays of advent (in order nonetheless).  I asked my husband if he could – and he couldn’t.  Somehow this left a hole in our holidays.

What have we been doing wrong all these years that traditional advent doesn’t stick?

Will it be the same for our children when they have their own homes to decorate when they are grown?

God is far more interested in a relationship with us rather than religious observances for the sake of tradition, so I asked Him what we could do as a family to make advent more real to us.  Reading back through Luke, and contemplating what God was revealing to me, I focused on the aspects of Christmas that were just as raw back then as they are now.

This is the product of a precious journey with Him…

A

Here’s what it all means to our family –

The first Sunday is the black candle and black candle holder.  This is for TRUST.  Looking at Scripture, there were many people involved in the birth of Christ who were asked to trust God when it was scary and downright dangerous.  Joseph, Mary, Zechariah, Elizabeth, shepherds, wise men, and all of the prophets who announced Jesus’ coming centuries before.

The enemy of trust is fear.  It’s no wonder the angels who spoke to Joseph, Zechariah and Mary each said, Do not be afraid.  Fear paralyzes us.  Trust frees us.  Fear pushes us away from God.  Trust draws us to Him.  Each person surrounding the birth of Christ was asked to believe the unbelievable. To trust the impossible.  We, too, are asked to trust God when the way is dark.  Lonely.  Unknown.  Trust forces us to give up control.  That can be very hard to do.  But with trust comes peace.  Peaces musters up the courage we need to take a deep breath and utter the words, I trust You, God.  Your will be done.  

Mary could have been legally stoned to death for being an unwed mother.  Joseph risked his reputation, Mary’s reputation and the reputation of his family.  Zechariah had long lived with disgrace of his wife being barren.  He was old.  She was old.  His doubt caused him to live the remainder of Elizabeth’s pregnancy being mute.  I suppose that gave him a great deal of time to contemplate things.

The shepherds forfeited their flocks and sleep to trust there was a stable that housed a young, poor family whose baby is the Christ child.  They risked being shunned by anyone they may have met along the way because of their filthy state and humble status.  The wise men risked their community reputation as they set off to seek the Messiah.  They, who studied stars for a living, held a very high rank in their communities.  Can you imagine what people must have thought as they left their families, packing extremely expensive gifts, to set off for an unknown destination, for an unknown length of time, following a star hung in the sky?  I’m sure some where amazed at their quest, but surely others thought this was a risky, if not crazy, idea.  A black candle and holder seemed the most appropriate color for trust as we follow God wherever He heads even when we can’t see His end plan.

Psalm 56:3-4 – When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?

Proverbs 3:5-6 – Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

Psalm 20:7 – Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.

Luke 1:38 – “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.

A

The second Sunday is the blue candle with an ivory holder.  This is for HOPE and FAITH.  Once we took a deeper look at what it means to trust God, even when we can’t see His plan, the next step is to act on it.  Thus, with hope, we live out faith.  The ivory holder and twine remind me of what they may have worn back then.  Simple.  Unassuming.  The blue candle represents the days they had to walk putting one foot in front of the other in sheer faith that God was leading them on the path He planned.

Hebrews 11:1 – Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

Psalm 62:5 – Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;  my hope comes from him.

Isaiah 40:30-31 – Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

2 Corinthians 5:7 – We live by faith, no by sight.

A

The third Sunday is the white candle and glass holder.  This is for JOY!  When the angels proclaimed the news of Christ’s birth to the shepherds, and Jesus had drawn His first breath in this world, holy joy was breathed into the world as fresh as when life was breathed into Adam’s body and Noah’s dove returned with a dry branch in its beak.  Even a multitude of angels transcended through the spiritual realm into the earthly atmosphere to proclaim this good news.  However, this small family of 3 was in the dark.  In a cave.  Surrounded by animals.  Rejected by people.  Shepherds didn’t win the lottery and buy a new car.  They had jobs to go back to after witnessing the Messiah.  Lonely, smelly, lowly jobs.  They were – the outcasts still.  Wise men merely set out that night on their quest to seek the Savior by the light of the brightest star.  They didn’t reach Him by daybreak.  In fact, Scripture tells us they found Jesus, by then a toddler, in a house.  Think of how long their journey must have been!  Then, after beholding the Christ as a child, they set off for home.  They had jobs to return to.  Families.  Community responsibilities…and a long journey back.

Despite, the appearance of circumstance, unspeakable joy ignited in all of their hearts because their hearts were forever changed by Christ!

We, too, can have that same unmovable, unshakable, unchanging joy – even if our present circumstances don’t change.  Even if we are stuck in dead-end jobs, are praying for wayward children, are suffering silently in a lonely marriage, are overwhelmed in school or aren’t sure how to pay the car loan.  Joy, true joy, is a gift from God.  It is not the same as happiness.  Happiness is a feeling – an emotion – that changes like the wind.  God’s joy is of another world, and thus this world cannot steal, squash or snuff it out.

Luke 2:10 – 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.

Isaiah 51:11 – The ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads.  Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

Nehemiah 8:10 – Nehemiah said, “…Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” 

1 Peter 1:8-9 – Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

A

The fourth Sunday is the red candle and wooden candle holder.  This candle symbolizes the love that God has for us.  John 3:16.  Jesus was love wrapped in flesh – His love and the love of the Father.  The wooden holder represents the manger, or feeding trough, that was Jesus’ first bassinet.  It still takes my breath away that Someone so beautiful, resplendent, and perfect could be cradled by such a humble abode.

Psalm 36:5 – Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies.

John 3:16-17 – For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

Psalm 119:76 – May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant.

Romans 5:8 – But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

1 John 4:16 – God is love.

A

The fifth candle is lit on Christmas day.  It is majestic gold and symbolizes Christ Himself!  I was on a search for just the right candle and holder to represent the glory of the Lord.  Turns out, it took 2 holders!  They were different colors, so I spray painted them gold.  The candle is gold as well.  Together, all 3 elements signify the reason Christ was born…it was so that He could die in our place on the cross.

Luke 1:30-33 – But the angel said to (Mary), “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Phil 2:6-11 – Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself  and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!  Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

John 14:6 – Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Hebrews 9:27-28 – Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.

Isaiah 9:6 – 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.

A

So, what has this new advent candle set up done for our family?  It has changed everything!  Whereas before we simply read the designated Scripture and the definition of the candle (which we can’t recite).  Now, all 5 of us can tell you 5 elements of Christmas both for those who lived it then and those who believe it now.

All 5 of these components: Trust, hope & faith, joy, love and salvation are completely relatable to our lives.

As a family, we talk about these and give examples of both those in the Bible and in our lives.  It has been utterly amazing how rich the conversation has been!  I have learned things about my children’s lives I never knew before about how God has worked in their lives to strengthen their walk with Him.  This alone was worth the change in how we participate in the advent season.

I am sure there are purists who would disagree with our candles, holders, and some of the spiritual elements, and that’s okay.  Traditions have their place.  For our family, we needed something that helped us draw closer to Christ in a season of life that is crowded with work, homework, and commitments that taunt us to tell Jesus there is no room for Him in our present-day Christmas.

When He knocks on the door of my heart, I don’t want to be so busy with the “stuff” of Christmas that I don’t recognize His voice.  I don’t want to be so tired that I don’t answer the door.  I don’t want to find too much value wrapped up in things either under the tree or on my calendar that I miss the opportunity to invite Jesus into my Christmas.

Is there room for Christ in your Christmas?

If you need a change, feel free to use our advent ideas for your home.  After all, it’s not the glow from the candle that counts.  It’s the fire in our hearts for Jesus that illuminates the dark world around us.

Let His light shine in you this Christmas!

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Post note – I thought I would include information about the things pictured in the photo in case you’re interested.

  • The tablecloth is from Crate & Barrel (Last year’s after-Christmas clearance).
  • Chargers are from the Dollar Store.  (99 cents each)
  • The nativity figures are from Hobby Lobby.  They were 50% off.  They look like wood, but are resin which are easy to clean and will last a long time.
  • The black, ivory, and wooden candle holders are from Michael’s. (Using coupons!)
  • The glass candle holder and unscented white pillar candle are from WalMart.
  • The black, blue, red and golden cross unscented candles are from Hobby Lobby. (On sale!)
  • The two candle holders spray painted gold are from Hobby Lobby.  The smaller one actually looks just like a crown with crosses on the sides of it.