The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 12

Grace, Grace, Grace

Luke 11:9
So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.

The lesson for today is to graciously receive.

Do you have a favorite Christmas gift that stands out in your memory?

This season Lexus has a commercial that shows a little boy with a new Big Wheel. He looks at the camera and says,

"Stop. What are you doing?”
“You can’t top the Big Wheel memory. It was the
best present ever.”
"Remember the freedom, the wind in your hair?”
"It’s the Big Wheel. Look at it! Nothing could ever be this… "

The camera pans to the kid all grown up gazing, adoringly at a new Lexus with a bright red bow on top.

"...great.”

When I was 12 or 13 I wanted a grown up bike, a 10-speed just like my older sisters. I used every opportunity to convince my parents I needed a brand new, bright blue 10-speed bike. I was just like Ralphie slyly bringing a Red Ryder BB gun into every conversation in A Christmas Story.

On Christmas morning that bike was under the tree and it was beautiful. It is still one of my all-time favorite Christmas presents.

But, like the little boy who grows up from loving his Big Wheel to his Lexus, I have learned there are better gifts than my brand new, bright blue 10-speed bike.

Gifts that are freely given.
All we have to do is graciously receive them.

Here are the best gifts I can think of:

The gift of salvation - the true gift that keeps giving
Unending grace
Complete acceptance
Perfect Love
Eternal Hope

What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?

On the 12th Day of Christmas think about the greatest gift. The gift that came to us as a Babe, wrapped in swaddling cloths. This gift is freely offered to you, all you have to do is receive it.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 11

Money, Money, Money, Money……Money

Luke 21:2-4
He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.

“The Gift of the Magi,” by O. Henry is the story of a young couple, happily married but struggling to make ends meet at Christmas. In the story Della sells her prized hair to buy Jim a watch fob, and Jim sells his watch to purchase a beautiful set of combs for her hair.

This is a classic story of sacrifice for a loved one. Like the poor widow in Luke, Della and Jim gave a gift of love, out of their poverty, for each other. In this season of economic hardship we should be reminded that it isn’t always the expensive gifts that are the most meaningful.

I have a friend who had no money to purchase a birthday gift for a friend one year, so she wrote her a prayer letter. She penned a prayer of blessing using God’s word for her friend and her family. The response was more heartfelt than Lee could have imagined, or hoped for. (If you are interested in learning more about prayer letters go to: http://www.prayergifts.net/) A gift given from the heart, like my friend, Lee’s prayer letters, tells the recipient that you invested yourself into their gift.

On the eleventh day of Christmas I promise to give responsibly. I promise to give the gift of love in word and deed, and to give out of love and not for show.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 10

There Is No Such Thing As Perfection

Philippians 3:12
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.

My church family is experiencing a time of displacement after the fire in our sanctuary. Last week we should have held our 25th Annual Presentation of The Life of Christ in Living Pictures. The halls should have been bustling with people, the pews filled to capacity. The parking lot should have been full of cars.

Last Sunday we found ourselves in a strange place. A local church graciously offered the use of their sanctuary for a scaled down offering of “Come Celebrate Jesus.” The building was beautiful. The sound system was terrific and the people who helped were absolutely wonderful.

But, it wasn’t Immanuel. It wasn’t the presentation we had been anticipating.

I was deeply saddened and disappointed.

As we sang I felt the peace of God envelope me. I saw the smile return to our Music Minister’s face. I felt the love of God overflow my heart and come out as tears. And I saw those same tears of joy mixed with sadness on the faces next to me, and in the audience.

The presentation last Sunday was not perfect. It was not the way we had envisioned it. But, God took our offering and perfected it His way. Last Sunday was another reminder to me that we are not perfect and our lives are not perfect, but God is.

No matter how we pressure ourselves to create a “perfect” Christmas season, perfection on earth is a fantasy. I believe there will be perfect moments. There will be times that catch us by surprise and we’ll wish we could freeze them for eternity. But, there will also be times when the kids are fighting, the gift isn’t right, the gravy is lumpy and when you forget the real reason for the celebration.

Throughout this season don’t let imperfections spoil your holiday. Open your heart to the joy around you and the One Perfect Gift who never disappoints.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 9

What, Me Worry?
Fay Hogancamp

Luke 12:25-26
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do your worry about the rest?

My 17-year-old daughter, Kathy, had broken her neck in a car accident in July, 1971, and was paralyzed from the neck down. She spent her first three months in the hospital, having developed pneumonia. She was so weak that she traveled to Frazier Rehabilitation Hospital in Louisville by ambulance.

I went to visit her frequently, but finally she was coming home for Christmas, the first time she would be home since her accident. The whole family was excited.

Kathy’s older brother was getting married. His fiancée wanted a Christmas wedding, so it was scheduled during Christmas week. Since we are a do-it-yourself family, I was planning to sew my own dress and my youngest daughter’s dress. Also, I had insisted on having the rehearsal dinner at my house because I enjoyed quantity cooking and our large house adapted well to large crowds.

I spent most of the first week of December with Kathy at the Rehab Hospital, returning to a nearby motel to sleep. I had not done any Christmas shopping for my seven children yet. While I was cutting out the fabric for my dress, I suddenly got panicky - how would I ever get everything done?

Once Kathy was home, I would have to turn her over twice at night, dress her in the morning and transfer her to her electric wheelchair. She was fairly self-sufficient during the day, if we cut her food. Then at night I would have to do her night routine plus giving her a bed bath.

I wished we could skip Christmas this year; it was a job just to decorate the house. Around this time the phone rang; it was my brother excitedly calling from California to inform me that his family was coming to celebrate Christmas with us, and would stay for the wedding. This was a sign to me that it would be impossible to skip Christmas. Of course, I couldn’t let my children down, and my parents always joined us for the holidays from their home in Kirkwood, Missouri.

I ordered Christmas gifts from the Sears catalog, and made a quick trip to a department store downtown. Fortunately, my girls were old enough to appreciate clothes. My daughters were a big help in getting the house in order, and David reluctantly put the tree up in the front hall and decorated it.

I also had to make room for our house guests; the girls had to double up in their rooms, and I had to hunt up fresh linens. My once-a-week cleaning woman was indispensable at this time. I brought a station wagon full of groceries and finally we were ready for my extended family and Santa.

I don’t know why I worried! When Kathy arrived home for the first time in six months, we celebrated. It didn’t matter that she was in a wheelchair; she was the same fun-loving Kathy. I was glad that my brother’s family came all that distance to help us celebrate Kathy’s return home and the Lord’s birth.

Christmas was very special that year; we thanked the Lord that although our three daughters were in that terrible July accident, all was well!

The rehearsal dinner kept growing as my daughter-in-law was having a quartet sing at the wedding, and thought they should attend with their wives. In addition, she had invited her friends who were going to serve at the reception. I would have to borrow tables and chairs. It wasn’t the fancy restaurant dinner that she had envisioned, but I thought having it at our home made it much nicer.

The large wedding was beautiful, and I was blessed to have my whole family present. God must have expanded time, as I wasn’t rushed, and everything got done! I was truly thanking and praising our good Lord!

On Day 10 remember; our almighty God, who numbers the hairs on our heads can supply our every need.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 8

I am not the Energizer Bunny

Exodus 34:21

Six days you shall labor, but on the seventh day you shall rest; even during the plowing season and harvest you must rest.

Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep, “What is that confounded noise?“ I griped to myself. The irritating noise had been going on for several minutes. Aha! A light bulb finally went off. It was my cell phone demanding my attention. I dug around in my purse and found it. There was no juice in the battery, and it was on the brink of giving out. I had been so busy I forgot to recharge it.

It dawned on me that I am the same. Lately, it seems my world spins faster and faster. There is more I want to achieve and less time to devote to all I want to do. I can hold on pretty well for awhile. But, I ignore the signals my mind and body start sending. I think I can hold out just a little longer. Eventually, my concentration wanes, my temper is short, and BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! I am on the brink of giving out.

When I run myself down without taking time to rest and recharge my own battery, I’m not nearly as efficient or kind as I want to be. At these times, I annoy myself, and irritate everyone around me.

This season, let us remember that rest is important. In fact, rest is so vital that God set aside a whole day for it every week. During the holidays we all stay busy. There is so much to do between the decorating, baking, parties, special events, shopping, visiting and traveling it is very easy to get run down.

Our wisdom for this eighth day of Christmas is to be sure to take the time to get plenty of rest. To paraphrase the scripture above; even during the holiday season and Advent you must rest.

The 12 Days of Chirstmas - Day 7

Tend to Your Temple

Erin Miller

1 Corinthians 6:19-20
Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.

For years, I hated exercise. I hated the sweat, the fatigue, the coordination it took, the whole thing. Nothing about it was for me.

And then I got sick. Very sick. I couldn’t eat anything without searing pain in my stomach that would literally leave me in tears on the floor for a few hours until my body had fully digested whatever I ate. As the pain dulled, I would slip into sleep of exhaustion. I lost a lot of weight, relative to my size. I couldn’t go to classes in my grad school program. I couldn’t go to work.
Test after test came back negative. Blood tests were just the beginning. Every doctor looked at every part of my digestive system trying to find some source of the pain. Nothing. “You’re fine!” they’d say. Yeah, right!

One night all of this happened and I also felt like I couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick and my shirt felt tight. My roommate said to me, “I know what this is!” It began my long journey toward overcoming an anxiety disorder.

One of the first steps toward healing for me was to find myself a physical outlet for my stress. “Oh joy,” I thought, “I just love exercise.” By happenstance, I tried a yoga class that was offered for free.

And there it was. The place where my spirit, my mind, and my body connected to find hope. I walked out of that room, bought a membership to the class, and have barely missed a session since that day about 4 years ago. It has become what keeps me together.

The word “yoga” means “union.” It is the place where the body and the spirit are to unite to find God. When I match my breath to the movements of my body, I find healing. I find a silence where God can speak through the breath – the pneuma – the spirit. In Greek, these are all the same word – the wind, the spirit, the breath. As my body finds strength, my soul is strengthened. As I put my hands in prayer position, my heart cries out to my God. As my breath gets tired, I am reminded that the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. In those moments, my body is quite literally a temple – the place where God and I commune.

In the busyness of this season don’t neglect your exorcise routine.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 6

Time Out
Verna Coppinger

Matt:l4:23
After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray.

You may be thinking, "Time for myself! Surely you must be joking! Caring for my husband, small children and household chores while holding down a full-time job takes all of my time and then some!"

However, one proven way to cope with so much stress is to have a daily devotional time with God. It is true that this stress only increases before Christmas when there is also shopping for presents, decorating, holiday baking, parties, etc. But all of these many activities only makes time for yourself more necessary.

It may take some creative thinking on your part to find some time, but it will be well worth your effort. It's helpful to have a certain place at a certain time and soon it will become a habit. Maybe you could arise fifteen minutes earlier than your family, maybe take a short walk, maybe you have a "retreat place" in your home--or you can even lock the bathroom door. Anything that works best for you. And don't quit if there are interruptions at times. Just resume it the next day. God understands. The benefits will be much greater than the effort required to establish this devotional time.

"Don't bother about whether you are growing in grace or whether you are being of use to others, but believe on Jesus and out of you will flow rivers of living water."
Oswald Chambers

In your devotional time, read some Scripture, tell God aloud that you love, praise and adore Him, thank Him for blessings, and ask His help for your needs and those of others. Throughout busy days one can even pray short silent prayers like: "Love someone through me," "Heal my child," "Bless my friend," "Thank You." With practice this will become easy and God will be included in all that concerns you each day.

Let this sixth day of Christmas remind us:
"We should establish ourselves in a sense of God's presence by continually conversing with Him.”

Brother Lawrence

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 5

Koinonia
Mary Ann Waltmon

1John 1:7
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.

I notice that in 1 John 1:7 it does not say if we run in the light. Of course it means our walk, our way of traveling in this world, and not literally walking, but I couldn’t help but think that we run not walk through this season. So many times we wait for Christmas to be over to catch our breath and take stock. The buildup to the “big day” is so harried that we don’t take the time to see the light all around us and feel his presence in all of the hustle and bustle.

In the past few days, our church has gone through a fire that has caused all of us who call it our home to be sad and disheartened. However, at the same time it has caused me to recognize once again who and what the church really is. It is not the building, although we love the building as we love our individual homes. As I paused to pray for the church in this difficult time, I realized that I was praying for my fellow Christians, my fellow believers. For a few moments in that time of prayer, I felt the warm glow from them, and I knew that God was with us all in this time. As I took time to think of them all, Joan beside me in the choir loft, John, Robert and James, those wonderful Christians I teach with on Sunday mornings, Jamie and Rita taking care of all of us, Steve and Shirley, with smiles and tears and so many others whose faces I can see, I recognize what the walk is about. It is our walk with each other—our taking the time to look into each others’ faces to see God and feel the glowing warmth of that light.

On the fifth day of Christmas, take the time to walk not run and look around you.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 4

Hostess With the Mostest
Fay Hogancamp

Matthew 25:40
"...inasmuch as you have done it unto one of these of these my brethren, you have done it unto me."

One day while I was at the beauty shop, I heard a loud voice from the other side of the room, "I don't know why my husband volunteered ME to keep that baby; I've never had children, I wouldn't know what to do with it!" I knew this woman whose husband was trying to start a halfway house for prisoners, and that she was talking about a prisoner's child. I called to her, "Marlene, have your husband bring that baby to me; I even have a crib!" I learned that the baby also had a six year old sister who was coming with her. That was fine with me.

That afternoon, the two girls arrived, without any clothes, not even a diaper bag for the baby. Soon my five daughters arrived home from school, very excited about our little visitors, and they rushed out to tell their friends in the neighborhood. When they came back, they had baby bottles and baby clothes and blankets, that their mothers had sent. With five daughters, I had girl clothes of every size, so the six year old was taken care of; I just had to make a quick run to the drug store for disposable diapers.

That very evening, the older girl woke us up crying. My husband got his "little black bag" to look at her ears. Sure enough she had an infected ear, and Charles had just the antibiotic that she needed. This was confirmation to me why the Lord had sent the children to us for a week until their relatives from "down south" finally came for them. Meanwhile we sure enjoyed that six month old baby.

I didn't have to ask my husband, for Charles was the one who first started bringing strangers to spend the night. He was a cardiologist and when an elderly man had a heart attack, and his wife couldn't drive; Charles would bring the woman home with him to spend the night, telling her not to worry; if her husband had any new symptoms, he would be the first to know and would take her back to the hospital with him. Of course this meant that one of my daughters would have to give up her bedroom and spend the night on the couch.

Early on, my children learned that hospitality was required of Christians, and some sacrifices were required--and appreciated! Our family has been especially blessed to host people, for the Lord gave us this example: "And whosoever would be chief among you, let him be your servant; even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." Matthew 20:27, 28

The definition of hospitality is kindness in welcoming strangers or guests. We may think Christmas is a time of cheer and good-will for everyone, but that is not always the case. There are folks who are alone, estranged and hurting. We are called to treat everyone as we would Jesus. I pray that I remember to speak a kind word, extend my hand for a loving touch, or perhaps even invite Him in to share a meal.

This holiday season let us look around and seek others to be hospitable to, to reach out and share the love of Jesus to all around.

12 Days of Christmas - Day 3

Day 3 - All In The Family

Psalms 133:1
Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!

When I think about spending time with family during the holidays I picture loved ones driving in from out of town, gathering together for food, fun, and fellowship.

In my mind I never think about the other side; faultfinding, friction, flare-ups and fatigue. It can be very stressful on families to be together.

George Bernard Shaw says “When our relatives are at home, we have to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure them.”

On my side of the family alone I think there are 40 of us between my brothers and sisters and their families. Our large group does not gathered together often. Usually, this time of year, we get together on Christmas Eve for a family party and hilarious “Dirty Santa” gift exchange. We do seem to get along great and enjoy being together.

This was not always the case. When I was younger, I do remember the sense of relief that would wash over me as I could finally break away and go to my own home for respite and quiet.

I consider myself to be very fortunate. One reason is that I truly love to be with my family, I find them funny and great company. But, I imagine too much forced togetherness can grow old even around witty and personable folk. This brings me to another reason I am lucky. When we gather it is usually at my mom’s house, which (if you have been reading earlier blogs, you will know) is right down the little gravel road. So, when I’m tired of my family, or just tired, all I have to do is go next door and I’m home.

However, spending time with family during the Christmas season does not refer only to visiting with all your relatives. It can be as simple as quality time with your spouse and children.

I read something recently that smacked me like a ruler across the hand. The article spoke of spending time with your loved ones at Christmas. It really drove home the message of giving them my attention. My hand is still stinging a little as I think about the “time” I spend with my husband and daughter. Most of the time when we are together, I am with them in time-space-continuum, but my mind is miles away, going over all the little lists I keep running in my head; work to-do, grocery list, church to-do, housework...on and on.

This is the line that slapped me:
"Attention requires being in the moment, without a running agenda in the brain, fully available for what that moment holds.”

Since I read that I have tried and tried, but I can’t remember a significant moment with a loved one that did not require our full attention at the time.

I don’t know how I can stop all the stuff swirling around in my head at any given time, but this year, I promise to be more deliberate about giving my entire, undivided attention to my family when we spend time together. I have a feeling it won’t just be a gift to them, but to me as well.

On this third day of Christmas, and throughout this season I hold on to, and celebrate my family.

As Desmond Tutu said:
“You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.”

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 2

Plan Ahead

Isaiah 40:3
The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Lord Jesus, Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas. We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day. We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us. We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom. We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence. We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light. To you we say, "Come Lord Jesus!" Amen.

Advent Prayer Henri J.M. Nouwen

The Advent season is a time of expectant waiting, it is a time of preparing our hearts for the coming of the Lord. On Day 1 we remembered that Jesus is the reason we celebrate the season, but today’s scripture reminds us we should prepare the way of the Lord. Prepare and renew a place in your heart for Jesus to reside. Prepare so you will recognize Jesus, and so others will see Jesus in you. Prepare to share His love. As Henri Nouwen says in his Advent Prayer above it is important for us to “seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.”

This season is also a time of festivities. The month of December is chock full of parties, events, school programs, shopping, caroling, and decorating and baking. There is so much crammed into a short span of days that it would be very easy to forget something or someone.

I am an obsessive list-maker. When I write my lists it gives me a sense of control. I know - I know, the misconception of having any control at the holidays may make you laugh. But, I have learned by making my “To Do” lists.

This task forces me to look ahead, to plan out what my goals are, to see what needs to be done. Every day after I complete items I achieve a great sense of accomplishment in crossing them off my list. I find that when I make my list I may be forced to choose between several worthwhile things, but knowing in advance helps to alleviate some of the stress that is inevitable with the season. Another benefit to planning ahead is to deliberately plan time for preparing your heart and taking care of yourself.

On this second day of Christmas, plan time each day to seek quiet spaces to hear God every day.

The 12 Days of Christmas - Day 1

Remember the Reason for the Season

Luke 2:6-7, 10-11
And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
…And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.

I remember with such fondness and nostalgia our family Christmases as I was growing up. Oh, I loved the anticipation of Christmas eve when we would have an early get-together for friends and family with lots of good food and fellowship. After our guests left to celebrate their own Christmas eve, our family would gather in the living room. My parents and all seven of us children would crowd onto the couch, and any other seat we could grab. My dad would open his bible and read us the Christmas story from the book of Luke. Afterward, we would get to open one gift before heading up to bed for visions of sugarplums to dance in our heads.

I admit when I was a child the reading of the birth of Christ seemed to go on forever while my mind wandered to what lay behind the brightly colored wrapping paper. I tried to concentrate on the wonder of the shepherds as they saw the brilliant star in the sky, but my mind would wander to the piles of presents under the tree. I pondered in my mind which one of my gifts I should open in just a few minutes.

1Cr 13:11 says
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

Now I’m all grown up and I no longer dream like a child of the gifts waiting under the tree with my name on them. Unfortunately, what I have learned is that my grown up thoughts are just as distracting. This time of year I spend too much time planning, scheming, cleaning, making, baking and doing. I let my busyness in the season sidetrack me from my most important task, celebrating the long awaited birth of our Savior who saved us from death. What greater gift could there possibly be?

Everyday this December let us be intentional in remembering God’s faithfulness to us, and the Christ child who was born to pay for our sins.

Beauty From Ashes

I am distraught.

My stomach is churning.

My heart is breaking

This afternoon my beloved sanctuary caught on fire. The news shocked me, my church family and many others in our community and beyond.

Next week is the date for our 25th Annual Life of Christ in Living Pictures, a presentation anticipated by folks for miles around. For 25 years we have heard people tell us their Christmas season would not be complete without coming to Immanuel to see Living Pictures.

Last night we had piano dress rehearsal. During practice I may cut up and be silly, but once we don costumes something changes. There is true joy to see the baby “Jesus.“ I feel a sense of awe during his miracles and excitement at his entry to Jerusalem. Each time I hear the mallet strike the spikes I cringe and shudder. As I sing on stage, I know “Jesus” is on the cross behind me. When he is lifted off the cross and carried down the aisle I am overcome with sorrow and shame. When Jesus ascends to heaven, surrounded by precious angels I am not just singing The Hallelujah Chorus, but praising my God with hallelujahs!

This place, which underwent transformation several weeks ago from a beautiful blue and white sanctuary to Biblical-times temple and house is now transformed again into charred and smoky confusion.

My family and I made our way to Immanuel this evening. The roads were still cordoned off. The flashing lights from the fire trucks lit the dark night, their red blinks the only lights began shining on the dark steeple. One section of a stained glass window was broken out to enable the fire fighters to run water hoses into the sanctuary. There was yellow caution tape strung from tree to tree.

The fire was out and the firefighters were wrapping it up so I ventured as close as I could, heart pounding, pulse racing. Someone had a flashlight and began shining it through the broken window. It looks like a war zone from an old black and white movie. The tubular, organ pipes surrounding the choir loft - gone. In fact, it looks as if the choir loft is devastated. Parts of the LP set still stand, but scrim and curtains are no longer. There was not much else to see, just the soot covering the small section of wall visible from my vantage point.

We knew there was nothing we could do by going to Immanuel, but had an overwhelming need to be there. Small groups of members stood comforting each other, holding on, hugging, trying to make sense of our loss.

We have much to be grateful for. No one was hurt. Immanuel is a very busy place with a preschool and after school programs. But God is good! Preschool was over for the day with the exception of a small “lunch-bunch” group, and the after school program had not started. We host holiday school programs in our sanctuary, but not today. Next week the church would be full with members and many, many visitors for Living Pictures. It was cold today, but last night was torrential rains. And, luckily the rest of the building is intact.

My Sanctuary

My respite.

The place I regained my sense of self-worth.

So much to be grateful for, yet my heart still breaks. My church is the community of people called Immanuel, but this building is my second home.

This year our Advent lessons center around the displacement of the characters in the Christmas story. I have immersed myself in their stories for weeks by first writing a devotional for our Advent Devotional Guide, and also by assisting with the Sunday School Advent lessons.

Now God is taking us out of our beautiful and comfortable “home.” He is changing our plans. Right now we don’t know where we’ll meet on Sunday morning. We don’t know what will happen with Living Pictures. We don’t know what it will take to restore our loss. We are left not knowing, but having to trust Him.

Oh, the irony!

Oh, the Displacement!

This year we will all view the Christmas season through new eyes. We will all feel the displacement of a season full of the unknown. But, just like Mary and Elizabeth, Joseph, the Shepherds on the hill, and Jesus, we will find that God gives us community for the journey. Like Mary and Elizabeth, Joseph, the Shepherds on the hill, and Jesus, we will grow stronger by leaning on God to supply our needs. And in return, He will give us hope, peace, joy and love.

To see pictures click HERE

Preview of Coming Attractions

I know, I know, it’s been forever since I’ve posted. My wonderful friends put out an APB for me because I have been so remiss. Things have just been CRAZY for me. When life gets out of whack like it has been, something has to go, and unfortunately, it’s been my writing. Boy! I just hate it when the “stuff” of life gets in the way of what I want to do, don’t you?

Today’s post is to introduce my Christmas series. I’ve had this idea for several years. I have really felt a call to write a little devotional book for my “Girlfriend” Sunday School class called “The 12 Days of Christmas for Busy Women.” But, the idea has been on the back burner because my church already puts out an Advent Devotional Guide, and it seemed a bit of an overload. This year is a perfect opportunity for this series since I have a different outlet for it.

Alas, even though I’ve had the idea for several years, I have been a bit of Scarlet O’Hara about it. But, again, another brainstorm, I invited members of my writing group to choose a day as a writing assignment. Therefore, some of the days will have guest bloggers.

It really isn’t just a guide for busy women. I think that probably every adult feels some stress at Christmas, whether it stems from being too busy, or not busy enough, too much family, or loneliness, too many gifts to buy and not enough money. Just feeling the pressure from all the advertising with perfect families giving expensive gifts and hosting extravagant parties in their flawless, every-nook-and-cranny-is-decorated home, is enough to make me wonder where I‘ve gone wrong.

I’ve yet to see an ad featuring a woman like me, someone just struggling to work full time, take care of my family, “trying to” keep a house that the health department won’t condemn, doing the Christmas shopping for everyone on our list, the decorating, baking, wrapping…on and on. I just don’t see women on the television with the same permanent dark circles ringing their puffy eyes like I have, or run ragged with their teenage daughter sassing them at every turn. Not to mention the 800-pound current-economic-gorilla in the room, that the advertisers totally ignore.

All that to say - Coming soon to a blog post near you- A Different Look at The 12 Days of Christmas.

It is my hope that this different look will remind you to be intentional about some very important things this holiday season. My prayer for you is that by putting the important things in the forefront, your holiday season might be less stressful and more enjoyable.

It's Bazaar Day!

It’s 10:00 am on the nose and the women, along with a few men, rush through the double doors and make their way down the steps. They have been waiting outside for the doors to open. While they wait, there is a small ensemble playing Christmas carols on the portico. Down in the Fellowship Hall those of us who are there to work are lined up to greet them and to give them first shot at shopping. The man with the big stick makes sure all our visitors have a chance to enter the shopping area before we are allowed to follow them in.

Here comes the masses; greetings, “Welcome to my church.“ smiles, waves, an occasional warm hug.

Some head directly to the “Trash and Treasures” yard sale area. Others race toward their own treasure hunt, perusing tables heavy laden with items created by talented members of our church.Table after table overflows with homemade baked goods tied with beautiful ribbons waiting for lucky shoppers to snag. Christmas trees sparkle with holiday splendor, wreaths and swags and quilted wall hangings decorate the surrounding walls. Up for silent auction is an impressive array of handcrafted items. There is a gorgeous hand stitched quilt that many nimble, and not-so-nimble fingers labored over hour after hour. There is a beautiful bassinette, a full size playhouse complete with a dormer and hardwood floor, a dollhouse barn with animals, and stained glass crosses made from the windows that were replaced in our sanctuary several years ago.
A wandering quartet of Dickens carolers serenades the shoppers as they seek out their perfect purchases.In another section of the Fellowship Hall beautifully set tables await the luncheon crowds. The Bazaar luncheon is anticipated as much as the bazaar itself, tickets are sold out in advance. Lunch is served to approximately 260 people in two seatings.Throughout the Hall numerous members pitch in to make the day a success. Workers are needed to help and guide shoppers. There are cashiers and people to help bag, and carry purchases to waiting cars. The luncheon needs hostesses and workers to prepare the plates, keep the beverages available, serve the guests, wash dishes and clean.

The bazaar and luncheon is a tradition at Immanuel. The money raised goes toward missions at Immanuel. Monies from the bazaar support the preschool and after-school programs, the youth, mission outreach, and The Life of Christ in Living Pictures, our annual Christmas program for the area.

This is the day that some in our church have been working on for 11 months.

This is the day the kicks off the extremely busy holiday season around our church.

This is an event that can only happen because members, young and old, men and women pull together to sew, cut, stuff, paint, sand, cut, arrange, glue, glitter, nail, bake, carry, sing, give and serve.

For the last several years my job on Bazaar Day is in the kitchen. It isn’t a glamorous job. Those of us in the kitchen are behind the scenes, we don’t get to see what’s going on out in the Fellowship Hall with all our visitors. It gets hot in the kitchen. But I love being in there. I love the camaraderie that comes from a long day working together toward our common goal.

The first Saturday of November is Bazaar Day at Immanuel. By then end of the day my feet hurt, my back aches and I am worn out. But the physical discomfort is overcome by the joy the entire day brings. This day starts my season on a sweet note of fellowship as I look forward to “The Life of Christ in Living Pictures” and the Advent season.

Mamapalooza

Today’s post is dedicated to my mom. Mother of seven, grandmother of 18, great-grandmother to one, and many, many more loved ones by marriage and choice.

This past summer I put a video together for mom’s birthday. It was so much fun to go to her house and one-by-one sneak box after box of photos out. When I got them to my house it was like an archeological dig. I anxiously removed the lid of the box and carefully peered inside. As I leaned into the interior of the box I got a faint whiff of something. It smelled old, like faded memories in the small crevasses of my brain. I methodically pulled out photos by the handful. Some pictures I had never seen, making it seem like I was unearthing rare artifacts. Some were old favorites that I have grown up with. The rest had been forgotten but once seen, immediately brought back flashes of remembrance.

Below is my very humble video. There are a several things I would like to point out.

A couple spots in the video I consider “God moments.“ I am not very familiar with movie-maker so it was basically a learn-as-I-go project. There are a couple moments when the music and the images aligned perfectly and there is no possible way I could have planned it.

When I played the video back for the first time with the music on it I noticed that during the song “As For Me and My House” the clip of my parent initials, a heart and date came up right when the words were “as for me and my house, we will praise the Lord.”

Toward the end of the video this quote is used, “My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort happiness and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.” I have not heard this quote before, but I came across it and really liked it, so I added it to the video. When this clip of the quote is shown, we are singing “with our neverending praise.”

The pictures of the scriptures are actual photos from one of my mom’s Bible.

And, last, but certainly not least; I chose the Ricky Skaggs song “Somebody’s Praying” especially for this project. Eleven or twelve years ago I was estranged from my family and from God. I felt so alone and I couldn’t pray for myself because I felt abandoned by God. Then I heard this song.

Somebody's prayin, I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
That somebody's prayin', for me.

Angels are watchin', I can feel it
Angels are watchin' over me
There's many miles ahead 'til I get home
Still I'm safely kept before your thrown
'Cause Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Your angels are watchin' over me.

I felt like this song was sent to me, and I knew that even though I couldn’t pray for myself, and I was so isolated, that my mom was praying for me still.

My mom, like moms everywhere, does not expect thanks and accolades for being a great mom. But it is my great pleasure to share a little of her life on my post and to publicly convey my gratitude for her life as an example of godly wife and mother.

Please allow ample time for the video to load.

Recovering Worship

A while back our pastor invited our congregation to join him on a journey to recover giving as an act of worship. In addition to any regular tithe or offering, each member has been asked to put one dollar in the offering plate every Sunday for the months of October, November and December. In Jamie’s words he hopes this one dollar offering will, “nurture gratitude to God and inspire us to become a more generous people.”

At my church we are blessed with talented musicians and magnificent instruments. In the midst of wonderful music during the offertory, I usually bow my head and soak in the beauty of the music and wonder of God.

But, two weeks ago after the plate was passed in the choir loft and I gave my dollar, my eyes strayed to the rest of the congregation. Witnessing the response to the offering plate gave me a warm glow in my heart. I noticed the plates moving across the aisles and down the pews, from hand to hand. Everyone from very young to the most senior put something in it as it passed.

Giving as an act of worship.

Is it more?

I can’t judge whether this exercise will recover the sense of giving as an act of worship for the entire congregation. But what I can judge is the unity I have seen in the hands that pass the plate and deposit their dollars together. I believe there is vested interest in this experience together.

I’ve always thought of worship as being about relationship, adoration and praise of God. But this experience shines a new light on the concept and deepens my insight into worship. What would happen if our worship also encompassed the inclusive nature of God’s love and common purpose among His children?

I haven’t asked Jamie exactly what he meant when he said he hoped that giving one dollar each week will nurture gratitude to God and inspire us to become a more generous people. What I hope it means is not only are we more generous in our gratitude and our tithe, but that we also become more generous in our love for one another, reaching across the aisles and down the pews to come together hand-to-hand and heart-to-heart.

God, The Architect

Here in my hometown there’s an old fast-food restaurant on the corner of a very busy intersection that was razed several months ago. Long ago I went to junior high next door. When I was a student at Brazelton it was a Burger Chef. Somewhere along the line it changed names. The doors were closed for the last time about a year ago. The building remained empty for a long time. And then one day it was gone!

I drive past the location every morning on my way to the post office. I watch to see what is happening at that spot. Last spring trucks showed up and started hauling off debris. Then earth-movers began digging and moving big piles of dirt. One day large bundles of cement blocks, bricks and other building supplies showed up. For months it was a huge, seemingly chaotic mess! I didn’t see any progress being made, just piles of stuff being moved around.

Then, almost overnight it emerged. One day nothing; the next a retaining wall and a foundation. The walls began to go up and it has been steadily taking shape ever since.

My life is like that construction project. I thought I had it all planned out. But, it just wasn’t working, it became dilapidated and neglected. In time, my life was empty, and remained that way for a long time.

Then God went to work. He tore down my defenses that were housed behind a crumbling façade of self sufficiency. For a long time my life seemed in complete turmoil. There were big piles of dirt unearthed and on display for curious on-lookers. It was a hard and painful season spent in a very public, empty and muddy lot with a big hole where my heart should have been.

But building blocks love and faith were delivered. A firm foundation was poured. Slowly, order began to take place and my life, built on the Rock, began to develop.

Unlike the structure being built on the busy corner, my life is far from complete. God will continue to expose, and tear down the parts of my life that are not pleasing to Him. In their place He will help to build the character which grows me more and more like Him.

There are no words superlative enough to express my thanks to God. He loves me so much He took my old self and, like a brilliant architect, redesigns and transforms me to reflect His glory. I will forever be grateful.God The Architect by William Blake

Peaceful Fall

I sit down in the springy metal chair on the porch. The day is peaceful and still. I closed my eyes against the bright sunshine and feel it warm on the left side of my face. The cement porch is nice and cool under my bare feet. It seems perfectly quiet as I rock.

I hear the wind rustling the tops of trees, sounding like Mammy’s red petticoat in Gone With The Wind, encircling me from left to right like the wave in a stadium. The chirping of a lone cricket calls to me from the woods. As I concentrate on the song he is singing it is as if my ears come in to focus and I hear the cacophony of nature. More crickets and a chorus of ribbitting frogs join in. A cardinal sings whoit-whoit-whoit from his roost. There's a constant high pitched twee-twee from the beautiful yellow finches in the trees and an occasional blue jay squawking kee-kee.

The leaves are just barely beginning to dress in their autumn splendor; peeks of yellow are showing through the shady woods. On the periphery of the woods the sumac are already ablaze in fiery red. There are patches of white wood aster wildflowers growing rampantly. Less easy to see from my perch on the porch is the Kentucky State Flower, the lowly goldenrod, and small yellow sunflowers with their faces turned to be kissed by the sun.



I love our land. We have a beautiful, peaceful setting with a big yard and trees that hide the neighboring homes until they drop all their foliage and their naked branches reach up to the winter sky. To the side of our home, and in the back we have woods where deer roam in the dusk and dawn. We have a trail wide enough for the golf cart to wind through the woods and along the fence line of the bordering farm. In the past, we have turned it into a haunted trail for Halloween with skeletons, ghosts, goblins and dead man’s gulch.

view from the fence line

views of the backyard and trail

along the driveway

Cooper sees something

Our land is beautiful in the winter and summer. And, when everything is coming to life and I am surrounded by that “new” green that seems to be reserved for the birth of springtime I am awash anew with the wonder of God’s creation and my joy that I live smack dab in the middle of it.

But, my favorite time of year is right now, the fall. I love everything about it. I love the morning chill that greets me as I wake up. The days as they grow cooler; sweater-weather / football-weather. After the long, hot summer, I cannot wait for the first morning when I can see my breath in puffs as I warm the car. I love the way God pours out his autumn paints to drip down the trees. I find great beauty in the falling, drifting leaves; the way they entwine in a type of choreographed, spinning waltz in front of me as I drive down the road. It makes me happy to have the crackle and crunch of dried leaves under my feet as I walk. The smell of bonfires and burning leaves gives me little shivers of delight. I even love the days as they grow shorter and the nights longer.

Welcome fall!

October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came-
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
- George Cooper, October's Party

God Is In His Heaven

My precious friend Leah leaned over to me in the choir loft at church this morning and told me that she was bringing my family dinner tonight. WOW! What a blessing. We had a fabulous meal of good eats directly from their garden. OK, maybe not directly from the garden since the veggies were cooked, but it was wonderfully fresh!

It was so out of the blue, completely unexpected. But it was absolutely appreciated.

After dinner Alex and I took the golf cart down the little gravel road to deliver some books to my mom. The setting sun painted a brilliant array of pinks, oranges and yellows against the darkening sky. I smelled autumn in the air; a familiar and comforting scent I associate with falling leaves and crisp apples. But for today, at least, the leaves are still hanging on the trees and rustling in the wind. I closed my eyes as Alex drove and just enjoyed the cool breeze in my face.

After a short visit with my mom and sister we hurried back home, relying on the scant moonlight to help navigate the narrow road. I reveled in the joy I always experience at the first kiss of autumn; the rich smells, glorious colors, crunching sounds and the feel of the brisk air.

In the few short minutes it took to get home it dawned on me that I was truly content. For a brief moment tonight I experienced an elusive, absolute sense of well-being. As Robert Browning said “God’s in his Heaven - All’s right with the world!”

I wish I could keep the feeling all the time. I wish I could let go of my worries and troubles and leave them where they fall. But, like Paul,

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. (Romans 7:15)

I try to drop my burdens, and for periods of time I can, but before I know it, I’ve packed them back up and strapped them on for the journey.

Jesus tells us to come to Him and He will give us rest.

Do I trust Him? Absolutely. So why do I still find it difficult to stop depending solely on myself, to think I have to find the solution or always be in control of the situation. I don’t even want to. It is hard work and I am tired. I long for that rest that He speaks of, yet I find myself almost fighting against it at times.

This is one truth I must re-learn again and again. My worries are like those autumn leaves hanging on the trees for dear life. I need to trust God and let go of them; let them swirl and dance into the wind and out of my mind. I need to remind myself to be ever vigilant. To seek God in prayer, give Him my burdens, and then move on; don’t look back and by all means, don’t pick them back up.

Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Let Your Heart Be Broken

A friend of mine just returned from a mission trip to Guatemala. This morning I finished reading her reflections of the trip on her blog. (Erin's blog) Erin’s last entry about her trip describes her feelings on bonding with several of the children in Hermano Pedro orphanage. I’ll admit, it got to me. You should really read it!

(Sidebar: the older I get the more emotional I get. I usually can’t even get through a church service without tearing up for some reason….I know, I’m pitiful, but I digress.)

I began to take stock of my own heart. Sometimes I am oblivious, and sometimes just very much Scarlet O’Hara…you know, “I can’t think about this now…I’ll think about it tomorrow” when it comes to noticing people to help and to love. I get so caught up in the details of my everyday life, it seems there’s never enough time to get it all done. Before I know it, that tomorrow I’ve planned for has passed me by unnoticed and, by then I’m well into worrying about something else.

As I drove to work I contemplated Erin’s trip to Guatemala. In a very short amount of time, these children left a permanent imprint on her heart. Erin won’t be the same as before, nor can she forget the children at Hermano Pedro.

Would they touch me the same way?
Would I even open my heart for that opportunity?

OH NO! Here I go again.

You would think by now I would know NEVER-SAY-NEVER. My wonderful church (Immanuel Baptist Church) has a partnership with a church in Klintsy, Russia. For 13 summers we have had members participate in an annual mission team to Klintsy. Eight years ago, I flat out told some friends “I will never have the desire to go to Russia.” Seven years ago I said, “There’s no way I would spend my precious vacation time in a stranger’s home with no air conditioning, no electricity, no indoor plumbing!”

Six years ago, God called me to Russia and it changed my life.

In this past summer, as I first heard Erin bubbling with enthusiasm for her upcoming trip, once again, I thought to myself “Oh, I REALLY wouldn’t want to go to Guatemala.”

But just between us, after reading of Erin’s experience, I practically feel the seed planted. I can envision at some point God breaking my heart again to the suffering I cannot yet contemplate; when He turns my eyes off myself, to focus on others who are hurting but don’t have the luxury of waiting for their needs to be met.

There is a wonderful hymn by Bryan Jeffery Leech that's been stuck in my head all day that says it better than I can:

Let Your Heart Be Broken

Let your heart be broken for a world in need
Feed the mouths that hunger, soothe the wounds that bleed
Give the cup of water and the loaf of bread
Be the hands of Jesus, serving in his stead.

Here on earth, applying principles of love
Visible expression God still rules above
Living illustration of the Living Word
To the minds of all who've never seen and heard.

Blest to be a blessing, priveleged to care
Challenged by the need apparent everywhere
Where mankind is wanting, fill the vacant place
Be the means thru which the Lord reveals his grace.

Add to your believing deeds that prove it true
Knowing Christ as Savior, make Him Master too:
Follow in His footsteps, go where He has trod,
In the world's great trouble risk yourself for God.

Let your heart be tender and your vision clear
See mankind as God sees, serve Him far and near
Let you heart be broken by a brother's pain
Share your rich resources - give and give again.

I pray that God won't settle with allowing you to be oblivious to the suffering of others. I pray that He will break your heart in tender love too.

Blessings,
J

Girlfriend Community

My Sunday School lesson this week is on Living in Community. I have posted already about my girlfriends in The Sparkly Countenance of a Girlfriend. And more recently, I have written about community in Living Life Down A Little Gravel Road. However, I dedicate today’s post to my Sunday School Class and the bonds in our little community.

Every Sunday morning I am fortunate enough to gather with a wonderful group of women. We call ourselves the “Girlfriend” Class. The age of our members span the gamut from women in their 30’s to 50’s. Our class includes women in different stages of their lives; childless, small children, teenagers and adult children, members are single, married, divorced and widowed.

No matter the life circumstances, God brought us together, fellow sojourners to share the journey. We may be a varied group of women but we seek a common purpose, to become more like Christ.

The chairs in our room are arranged in a circle so we can see each other; and an added benefit, no one can hide in the back of the class. As I sit at my computer tonight and close my eyes, I imagine our class. It makes me smile as I picture each beautiful face. I love my Girlfriend Class; the women and the amazing community we have formed over the last several years.

The “Girlfriends” in our class are invested in each other; we share our lives, not just an hour on Sunday morning. We hold each other up in prayer and encourage one another. Our members rejoice together with good news, and weep together in times of sorrow. We are quick to give a hug, shoulder to lean on or a meal when it is needed.

Narrow is the road that leads to life. No one said it would be easy and sometimes the road is downright difficult to traverse. When I feel like giving up, I need a push from behind to keep me going. On the other hand, when I stray from the path and cannot find my way I require a helping hand from someone ahead of me. My Girlfriends are right along with me, we push and pull together, rooting each other on “toward the goal for which God has called us heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14 NIV)

If you are a member of the Girlfriend Class I want you to know how I cherish you and thank God we share our journey together. If you are not a member, our class is always open to newcomers, we welcome anyone who is searching for community, Christian growth and to learn about, and receive God’s love.

1 Thessalonians 5:11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

It's A Good Thing

Many, many moons ago, in a land far, far away I was a lonely freshman in college, 250 miles from my family. One day in my first semester I finished classes and rode the city bus to the mall. It’s hard to believe, but back in those days there were not any no-smoking bans. As I was sauntering around the mall I caught a whiff of pipe tobacco. It was the very same-smelling pipe tobacco that my dad smoked while I was growing up. It’s odd because my dad had quit smoking years before, but my brain held on to the association of him and the smell of that particular tobacco. I trailed behind the smoking man for a while just to have a sensory glimpse of something familiar, something from home.

Today, as I was leaving my office for an appointment I passed an elderly gentleman walking in the opposite direction who was smoking a pipe. It has been 20 years since my dad’s death, and many more years since he quit smoking his pipe. However, once a whisper of the aroma filled my nose I instinctively breathed deeply of that familiar scent and the memories flooded back.

My dad was a country boy who listened to classical music. He knew almost everything. Seriously. When the Trivial Pursuit boardgame came out he could win with one trip around the board; he got every question right, all the time. My love of obscure trivia is a gift from him. If my daughter Alex had known him, my own weirdness would wane in comparison. Although we thought it was normal to find him reading a tome from our set of Encyclopedia Britannica, or the dictionary. A little light reading, just for fun. Keep in mind this was way before the time of home computers and the internet.

He was irreverent, not the stuffy Cardiologist one might expect. I remember one time taking dinner to him at the hospital. He had on his usual, white coat and stethoscope draped around his neck. However, he also had a t-shirt with a big Superman emblem that showed underneath his white button down shirt and tie. And his socks never matched! My dad was color blind, but if you pointed out that one sock was blue and one was black, he would exclaim “I have another pair just like it at home!”
We lived in a nice quiet neighborhood, but my dad used to shoot his shotgun at midnight to welcome in the New Year, startling the neighbors. He put his stereo speakers in the open windows and piped John Philip Sousa marches while we raked leaves. And in the summer he could beat even my brothers with a bigger splash doing a cannonball into the pool.

My sister Susan loves to tell of a time he went to pick her up from high school. As she stood waiting for him among a throng of her classmates, dad drove up. He had our mother’s shoes tied together and slung over the rear view mirror. Another sister was on a date only to find a salmon patty he had hidden in her purse. Poor Bonny was the brunt of numerous practical jokes. He would have us little sisters short-sheet her bed, or what we called make a “pie” bed. Once he wrapped her toilet seat in plastic wrap. I don’t know where he came up with them, but he went through a stage of putting different critters on her bed.

I remember many of the silly things he used to do. More importantly I remember how he loved his family! His love for us was surpassed only by his love for God. He lived an exemplary Christian life which was modeled by Titus 2:7-8

In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about us.

I am thankful for my dad’s legacy of Christian love and kindness. To this day I still hear from his former patients how his gentle spirit ministered to them. The very manner in which he lived his life was a witness of God’s goodness. I’m also thankful that even a hint of pipe smoke brought forth a comforting sense of my dad for me this afternoon.

I know the sense of smell conveys powerful connections. As I stop and smell the roses - or pipe tobacco, in life, I should choose to reflect on the memories evoked that teach me to also become an example to others by doing what is good.

Philippians 4:8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.

Living Life Down a Little Gravel Road

In my last post I mentioned that my mom, sisters, their families and mine, live down the same little gravel road. Yesterday my friend Jennifer responded to that post and sent an email to a small group of friends that said,
“I feel that way about you all - you know - friends are the family you choose for yourself”

My response, “But unfortunately, WE don't get to live all together on a private gravel road.... and that makes me sad.”

Jennifer: “Maybe someday we will all live together down a little gravel road in Florida near the beach and Cardinals' spring training camp!”

We all started thinking about living down a little gravel road together and decided that in the evenings we would sit on the front porch, drink ice tea and discuss the meaning of life, or maybe laugh and be silly and generally WOW ourselves with our fabulosity (see blog The Sparkly Countenance of a Girlfriend.) At any rate, what ever we talk about would be in person not via the internet like now.

If you read my last post you know that even though my family and I live close, we don’t often get to visit on each others’ front porches. We all stay busy and have to leave our little compound for work, church, shopping, errands, school and other activities. We can’t live our entire lives down the gravel road…..

Or can we?

Speaking metaphorically “living life down the gravel road” can signify living in community - or common unity. In that case I CAN live my entire life down the gravel road.

We are not meant to live in isolation.

Genesis 2:18 And the Lord Said “It is not good for the man to be alone.”

And thus, community was born of Adam’s rib.

All the way back to the Garden of Eden encouragement was an essential component to living in community, although I’m not too sure God was pleased that Eve encouraged Adam to eat of the tree of knowledge. And later, Moses provided continual encouragement to the Israelites for forty years as they wandered in the wilderness.

In Hebrews we are also instructed to “encourage one another.” It is a give-and-take commodity. As Bill Withers sang:

Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on.

Sometimes I am the lean-er; needing the support and encouragement of others in my communities. At other times I am the lean-ee, holding up others and cheering them on.

I am thankful to have communities that encourage and hold me up. I can remember a time when I was alone and lonely and that makes the fellowship I enjoy now all that much sweeter.

Hebrews 10:23-25 Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another–and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

The Tie That Binds

Boy am I tired! I’ve been putting in some long hours for work this past week, including Saturday and Labor Day Monday. However, Sunday, the Sabbath, I did rest. Well, maybe not rest exactly, but I didn’t work.

After church last Sunday, Phil and I joined my sister Susan, her husband Craig, and my sister Bonny - sans her husband Richard, who WAS working, in a short jaunt to a winery in Southern Illinois. Although Phil and I live on the same little private gravel road as Susan and Craig, and Bonny and Richard, (not to mention my mom and sister Kathy) there is never enough time to squeeze in any leisurely visitin’, so this was a rare treat.


We drove for about an hour, the boys in the front keeping up with the golf scores or the upcoming football game between UK and U of L. Or maybe they were listening in to us girls in the back while we were busy catching up with each others’ lives and kids - and of course, cute shoes.

It didn’t take long before we were turning off the highway and looking for Lick Creek Road. You know you’re in the midst of God’s country when you’re on a road named Lick Creek. We drove up a narrow, twisting road, keeping an eye out for the entrance into Blue Sky Winery.

After a short while we began to see vineyards dotting the countryside…And there it was, the Tuscan-style gate into the winding drive that led to the winery. As we drove in we could see the terracotta tiled roof atop the stone-looking façade of the building. The parking lot was full and we were directed to the supplemental parking next to long rows of net-covered grape vines.

As soon as we got out of the car we could hear guitar music, talking and laughing coming from the courtyard area. We made our way to the entrance and paid our $2 deposit for a wine glass, and $1 for five tokens allowing us the opportunity to taste up to five different wines. Folks were crowding around the bar where the bartenders were furiously pouring each allotted taste.

The indoor tables were taken so we made our way to the patio. It was a picturesque setting and a beautiful, if hot, day. Above our heads it was almost perfectly clear with only a few puffs of small clouds floating in the azure sky. The green grounds sloped down toward a pond. There was a lovely little portico overlooking the water, and a bit further was a rock feature with a peaceful waterfall.



The winery was a picturesque place to spend the afternoon. But for us, or at least for me, it wasn’t about the surroundings, or the wine, it was about hanging out together. Being with my family is so comfortable. There is constant current that keeps us connected, in sync with each other so conversation is always easy and the only effort required is in trying to outdo each other with inside jokes.

Here is my nerdiness raring it’s head; I love my family and I truly enjoy spending time with them. There is no need for us to have false pretenses. We know each other too well to be fooled by masks we often try to hide behind. But more importantly, masks are not needed. With my family I am free to be myself and still be confident of their unwavering love, as I too love each of them unconditionally.

I was sorry to see the afternoon end so quickly. It’s hard to leave a party when you’re still having fun. It made me think of a hymn that we sing at our church from time to time:

Blessed be the tie that binds,
Our hearts in Christian love.
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again.

Wouldn’t it be lovely for everyone to love, and be loved in this same manner?

And then God sent me a little “thwack” across my mind, as He does from time to time to get my attention. I know this kind of love sounds impossible and in our small human minds it is. Yet that’s exactly what God calls us to do. God is the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love, and knowing that, the fellowship we all share together should be like to that above.

John 15:9-12 (NIV) As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.

Go The Distance

This week I’ve been in Indianapolis attending a convention for work. My family stayed behind at home. I was a little excited to have time to myself, for writing, thinking, spending time with the Lord and generally contemplating life; all the things that get interrupted at home.

Even without the interruptions I still haven’t been able to focus. Apparently I have inadvertently lugged along some superfluous habits that continue to vie for my attention; television, internet and chatting with friends. My pastor refers to these as contrived distractions. Like Martha, these distractions keep me from choosing what is better.

Luke 10:39-42(NIV)...She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.

I have been discouraged about my lack of progress this week. I can’t concentrate, my mind is lazy. I’m not even going to get into my physical laziness, we can discuss that at a later date.

Last night as I was praying about these shortcomings I heard God ask “Is your love lazy?” Since then I’ve been reflecting on this question. I believe it addresses the fulfillment of my calling. God has put a desire in my heart; a yearning to share His love with others through the telling of my own journey.

Pursuing this goal is tremendously difficult work for me. It involves uncovering memories that are so intense I wonder if it is worth the pain. Many times I want to give up trying. Oftentimes I willingly fall into the trap of contrived distractions.

Yet I know I can’t give up, I am called (or whispered) to “Go the distance.” I admit I am lazy in many areas of my life. All things being equal, I’ll take the easy route….most of the time. But I can’t be lazy in this task. I love Him too much to quit. And in order to bring good from my own agony I must persevere to tell of the light of God’s love even through the darkness.

Isaiah 38:17-19 (NIV) Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish. In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction; you have put all my sins behind your back. For the grave cannot praise you, death cannot sing your praise; those who go down to the pit cannot hope for your faithfulness. The living, the living—they praise you, as I am doing today; fathers tell their children about your faithfulness.

What The Heck...?

Tonight I am in Indianapolis to attend the National Government Services “Mission Possible” convention which begins tomorrow. – WOOT! as Alex would say signifying a sarcastic level of enthusiastic excitement.

I saw a peculiar thing this morning while I was driving here. I passed an older model van pulling a small camper. As I got along the side of the van I noticed that they had a window unit air conditioner installed in the back side window, and held in place with duct tape. It was the oddest thing and gave me a quick flash of the Beverly Hillbillies. I have been mulling over the reasoning of that van rolling down the highway with the a/c hanging out of the window.

This little conundrum has occupied a corner of my thoughts today. I don’t get why people do the things they do. If I let it, the uncertainty of not knowing will just eat at me like an itch I can’t reach. In the end, what difference does it make to me? But, I have an inquiring mind, as I told a friend of mine earlier tonight.

Right now I’m not watching the National Democratic Convention, (sorry Michele.) I am watching Intervention on A&E. Phil can’t understand why I watch a program about addicts. But this show allows me to move beyond seeing “addicts” to getting a glimpse of hurting people. It gives me answers and opens my heart in compassion for them.

It is so easy to judge others on the basis of our own lives. I also find it’s true that judgment can quickly turn to empathy once you know of their experiences. Unfortunately, we are not called to know each others’ stories in order to be kind and loving toward them. We are called feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty and invite in the lonely even when they don’t look like us.

And, maybe it’s a good thing that all people don’t look like me. Here’s what other drivers might have seen in my car during parts of my drive today; a woman, traveling alone but laughing hysterically, talking to herself or maybe even bopping in her seat. Because they weren’t in the car with me to hear the radio maybe they were also saying “What the heck…? It could certainly appear that I was wacked out – or “weird” to quote Alex.

Matthew 7:3-4 (NIV) “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?”

The Gift of Love

Bob was a man who has made a lasting impression on my life. I didn’t get to know him long enough; and I didn’t get to know him well enough. He passed away several years ago. I guess I’m thinking about Bob because last week would have been his birthday, and in honor of that each of our ushers at church wore a yellow rose in their lapel last Sunday.

When I started back to church after a long, self-imposed hiatus I came dragging a load of ugly baggage. Even though it was a heavy burden, I couldn’t relinquish the familiar weight. I was afraid of the “nakedness” I would feel if I didn’t have my insecurities to wrap around myself.

After I had been attending on Sunday mornings for a while I began to take Alex to the Wednesday night meal. Every week Bob was outside of the kitchen helping wipe down trays. I can just picture him, a tall and thin man, with a big grin on his face, a head of white hair, and wearing an apron with a dish towel in one hand and a tray in the other. I never saw him when he wasn’t smiling. He knew my name, and who I was right away, and acted as if we had been friends for years. Bob never let me get away with keeping my head down and trying not to be noticed. He always did notice. He never let a chance go by to compliment me, to let me know he was glad I was there; and he always made me feel special.

I truly thought Bob knew what the previous years of my life had been like and he was either trying making up for it, or trying to prove to me that I was a person worthy of kindness. Besides just being wonderful, I loved Bob for making me believe that I was special.

After Bob’s death as we recalled memories of him I was shocked to learn that Bob hadn’t see me as an outcast needing his confirmation. In those last years of his life as he was building up my self esteem I never even noticed he treated everyone the same way, making each person he came in contact with felt “special.” What a magnificent gift he had for loving each person he came in contact with without judgment and with his whole heart. I am honored to have known him and thank God for the privilege.

1 John 4:7 (NIV) Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.

Lessons from Cooper

Last summer we were at PetSmart, just looking, I promise, no plans whatsoever to adopt. (If it were up to Alex we would bring home a stray dog or cat every time we went.) But guess who fell in love-at-first-sight? I saw this little puppy with big ol’ ears and long legs, and he was just the cutest thing ever. We got him out and carried him around with us, we put him back in his crate….and we went back and got him out again. I really don’t know what it was about him that made me want to take him home with me, but I just couldn’t resist. Of course, Alex and Phil were all for it. So, we adopted Cooper.

Cooper is a handful. My explanation for this is because he is a boy. After all, our cats are girls and they aren’t any trouble, Sadie, our first dog, is a girl and she isn’t any trouble….but then there’s Cooper - thirty-two pounds of mischief wrapped up in fur. But he is, to me anyway, adorable.

Cooper chases our Sassy-cat, he eats cat food, he barks, a lot and ear-piercingly. He wants outside, he immediately barks to come back in, but when we open the door he runs off to the woods. He doesn’t know his place is on the floor and not the furniture. He chases our car. He eats box turtles out of their shells. (I’ve never seen that many turtles in the yard, but he sniffs them out somehow.)

Last fall every few days he proudly brought us different parts of a deer. On Thanksgiving morning he brought us a deer head; not just the skull, but the entire head. It made Phil almost sick to see it on our front porch. Maybe I have a sick sense of humor because it cracked me up. In the next few days he brought home an antler, the lower part of a leg and a big hunk of fur. A couple weeks later I saw him running into the yard and it looked like he had a broom in his mouth. When he got close enough for me to see I realized it was the spine and ribcage of a deer. If Phil hadn’t been putting all those “spare parts” in the trash, we could have almost made us a facimile of a deer to showcase in our living room.

This little, hyper bundle of bark with ears has taught me some things. Cooper is always so happy to see us he can hardly stand it. As soon as we come in the door after work or school he is jumping up to say hello. He wants us to know that we were missed and now he’s practically beside himself to see us again. He wants to be loved, he wants attention, and he wants to be in our laps, or snuggled up as close as he can.

Sometimes, Cooper leaves such a mess he just has to be punished. Like the time he chewed a half-full bottle of Pepto Bismol, which left a hot pink stain on the carpet, and on Sadie's rear - I guess she sat in it. Or when he found a roll of toilet tissue and completely unwound it; toilet papering our living room. But after he’s gotten a spank on the hind end he wants to know he’s forgiven.

Cooper is scared of thunder. If there is a storm he jumps onto the bed with us and shakes and whines. He tries to burrow himself underneath one of us for safety. And he cannot go to sleep until all is quiet again.

Yep, Cooper is a handful, but just so darn cute and affectionate we can’t help but to love him. Sometimes I think I should be more like Cooper towards God. I ought to bring Him gifts that are meaningful to me and lay them at His porch; ummm, I mean His feet.

Instead of taking God’s companionship for granted, I ought to be like Cooper, so happy to be with God that I can’t contain myself. I need to snuggle up with Him and give Him all my attention. I should desire to be in God’s presence at all times.

Like Cooper, I sometimes make a mess of things. And, sometimes it feels like God is giving me a little spank on my hind end. At these times I need to seek forgiveness and then be re-assured of His mercy.

When I face the storms of life I need to remind myself that God is my refuge. There is no need for me to shake and whine. God is there for me to find safety and comfort in time of trouble.

I picture God in His Heaven watching me saying “Yep, that Joan, she’s a handful, but look, isn’t she so darn cute when she runs to me? Isn’t she adorable when she spreads my love? Isn’t she precious because she’s my beloved daughter?”

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

The Thrill of Victory!

This is day 6 of the 2008 Olympics. If you have been anywhere in sight, or sound of the TV you will have seen and/or heard of Michael Phelps. This young man is a swimming dynamo. He has earned the all-time Olympic record of 11 gold medals. So far this time around he is taking home five golds, and is working toward an historic 8 gold medals in the same Olympic games.

But even as amazing as Michael is, he is not the only outstanding competitor in Beijing. Spend any time viewing the coverage of the Olympics and you will see a great number of athletes who are incredibly talented. Besides being tremendously fit, there is another difference between them and us regular non-Olympic folk. It isn’t just the talent that got them to Beijing this summer. Oh they’re gifted of course, but they have also spent years working and training for this moment.

In order to enhance their God-given talents they practice other preparation methods in addition to training in their own sport. For example, swimmers also weight train. They can use cycling, running and resistance stretching to help strengthen their bodies. I read of a swimmer who works with a gymnast out of the pool, on his handstands and balancing to help with his strokes and turns in the pool.

Take Michael, he is an extraordinarily talented swimmer. The fact that he is a virtuoso in the pool though does not mean he can swing his lanky torso and long legs in a circle around the pommel horse. Being capable of an excellent flip turn at the end of a lap is not an indication of excellence in performing a back flip on the mat. By the same token World Champion gymnast Shawn Johnson most likely cannot power lift 260 lbs, or be an all-star on the basketball court. Clearly, Michael and Shawn are not gifted with the same talents. I am very grateful they, and all the other US Olympians have different skills so they can use their individual talents to represent us in all the different competitions.

Here are several lessons that can be learned from watching the Olympics

• We have a responsibility not to bury our talents, but to exercise them to increase. In being good stewards we will work and train our talent for the plans God has for us. Matthew 25:21 “His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!’
• In training our gift we must not neglect the benefits of cross training with other spiritual gift practices. We learn in 2 Peter chapter one, in order to participate in the divine nature of God we should make every effort to add to our faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge.
• Just like Michael and Shawn we each have different gifts to share, but each of us is gifted by God for the profit of all. As the Bible states in 1 Corinthians 12:4-7 There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men. Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.

Unfortunately, we can’t all be Olympic athletes bringing home the gold, or silver or even bronze medal. But we do have our own talents meticulously doled out by the Holy Spirit, in order for us to cultivate and to share, with our families, communities, and the world.

So don’t be discouraged if you can’t break a world swimming record like Michael Phelps, or twist and flip in the air a la Shawn Johnson. I promise you have other talents to perfect. In the meantime, get some popcorn, sit back, relax, and root your favorite team on to victory!