He Came

From all outward appearances, it was just an ordinary night.  Shepherds slipped on their  cloaks, grabbed their staffs and went to work, out in the fields. Sheep grazed.   Innkeepers kept busy, filling rooms to capacity and turning away those who he could not accommodate.  Mary and Joseph travelled busy roads, with a throng of others, doing what they were ordered to do -- register for the census.  Cows mooed and donkeys brayed and they ate their food out of the manger trough, just like they did every day.  Dogs barked and kitties purred and mothers tucked their children in to bed. The stars twinkled, breaking through the backdrop of the night sky.  The wind blew.

People talked and walked and worried and laughed and cried and wondered about their lives.

It was just another night, following just another day, in the middle of just another week, part of just another year.

And then He came, unexpectedly -- at least from most of man's point of view -- in to the cold, dark, hurting, world.

He came.

He came for the lonely and the busy and the preoccupied and the forgotten.

He came for the the angry and bitter and unforgiving, and for the unforgiven.

He came for those who hurt and those who hurt others.

He came for those who lost loved ones and those who were lost themselves.

He came for those who wanted to give up hope or give up everything.

He came for the less-than-perfect and for those who thought they were perfect.

He came for those who were looking for Him and for those who never even gave Him a second -- or first -- thought.

He came for those who strived to please God and for those who thought they were so far gone that it would never be possible, anyway.

He came for those who made mistakes and for those who believed they were a mistake.

He came for the miserable and the meek.

He came for those who looked to have their act together and for those who never acted as they should.

He came for those who were broken and bleeding and brought chaos wherever they walked.

He came for the ill and the broken and the broken-hearted.

He came for those who were abused and confused and refused to believe.

He came for the neglected and the negligent.

He came for the weary and the wealthy and the poor.

He came for the restless and the resentful and for those who resisted love.

He came for those who felt purposeless and plain.

He came for the orphaned and the fatherless and the heartless and the helpless.

He came for the disabled and the abled.

He came for the ones who could not sleep because of their choices, and for those who could not get out of bed, for the same reasons.

He came for all people, all shapes, all sizes, all sorrows, all sins.

He came for people from the past and the present and the future, and for you and for me.

Sometimes I forget it, neglect it, don't believe it ~ I forget that Jesus came. When I am weary or lonely or stretched thin in the trials that the Lord allows in my life ~ I forget Jesus came.  When I feel restless or ordinary or useless or like giving up ~ I forget Jesus came.

I forget or neglect or don't believe, that He came for me, so that when I am hurting and hopeless, and even when all is well, I can have hope and rest and peace in Him.

Dear reader, wherever you are today, on this Eve of Christmas, whether in warm or cold weather, whether surrounded by loved ones or all alone, whether filled with excitement and joyful anticipation of Christmas or not feeling festive at all, remember ~ Jesus came.

He came, because He loves you.  Say 'yes' to Him, today. Allow Him to show you how His coming made all the difference in the world, and still does today. And take a moment to thank Him and take a moment to tell someone else, "He came."

Blessed Christmas, dear ones.

The Coveted Life Saver Story Book

It was the early 1970's. For several years, shortly after Thanksgiving, as the teacher announced the great Christmas gift exchange, visions of Life Saver Story books began to dance through my head.

I pictured myself holding the rectangular, firm cardboard book between my hands and opening it up, setting my star-struck eyes on the delightful contents.  I imagined the neat rows of side-by-side Life Savers, in their colorful packages, stacked one on top of the other.  And if I really focused, I could even smell the cherry, lime and orate scents of the individual Life Savers, as my mouth watered.  Ahhh. Sigh.

I don't what exactly what it was about the wonder of rolls of Life Savers, bound in a book, but all I knew is that it was the greatest gift garnered at the grace school Christmas gift exchange.  At least, it was for me.  How sweet it would be to have my very own supply of Life Savers to relish in my room, throughout the Christmas season!

Here's how the gift exchange worked.

Each student brought in a gift with their name scratched in the 'FROM' space, leaving the 'TO' space specifying if it was to a girl, if you were a girl, or a boy, if you were a boy.  We didn't pick names, but rather were to buy a generic gift -- a gift everyone would like.  I suppose the teacher did it this way to prevent someone from getting a downer of a gift if someone who didn't like them, picked their name.

The gifts were brought in the week of the Christmas party, and placed under the small tree in our classroom.  Slowly but surely, brightly colored packages of all sorts accumulated under the tree, waiting for the big day.

I knew the shape, the size, the detailed dimensions.  And I didn't have to imagine smelling effervescent fruity scents; I was pretty sure I could smell them, through any thickness of wrapping paper, as the gift entered the classroom.  I kept a very close eye on the tree and it's growing pile of gifts. I watched to see who brought what and hoped beyond hope that I'd be the lucky recipient of the Life Saver Story Book.  Spotting more than one of the coveted cardboard books under the tree added to my joy, and some years, the odds seemed to be in my favor.

On the day of the party, the teacher sent us out for recess, right before the celebration. Oh, how the excitement mounted, as we stood frozen outside on the playground, waiting and wondering.

I remember coming in, chilled with goose bumps percolating beneath my skin.  I'm not sure if they were from the cold or my eager anticipation that it would be my special day.

I didn't care about the cookies or the Kool-Aid, all I wanted to know was -- would this be my year to get the Life Saver Story Book? Finally?

I slipped off my coat and held my breath as I slowly walked through the door, savoring every moment. While were were out, I knew the teacher would have set a present on each of our desks.  I don't know why she did it that way, other than maybe she didn't have to deal with kids trying to influence her or maybe there were never quite enough gifts, so she could pull a few extras out of her desk drawer, to cover for the ones who couldn't afford to participate that year. No student left behind when it came to the Christmas party gift exchange.

I tried to contain my excitement, while trying to brace myself for disappointment.

Rounding the corner of the door frame, my eyes drifted across the room and settled on my desk.

And each year, my heart fell.

Resting on my desk was a different gift than I imagined -- a smaller one or a bigger one or a softly wrapped, oddly shaped package.  And each year, I can remember forcing a smile, sitting down and opening the gift that was chosen for me, by my teacher.

I didn't want to hurt any one's feelings, surely not the person who picked out what was on my desk, or possibly offend their mother, who more than likely was the one who went to the store and picked it out.

I tried not to look around the room to see who got the gift I wanted. I tried hard not to be jealous; it was really hard.

I never did get the Lifesaver Story Book. I'm not complaining or dwelling on dashed dreams of the past.  Really, I've gotten over it, but every year when I see them on the store shelves I think of those days when the great gift exchange consumed my Christmas thoughts and my heart had to find contentment in what I was given.

I some ways, it's not so different today.  We hope for one thing, and sometimes, get another.  My heart no longer is set on material things, but rather less tangible, more valuable desires, like peace and joy and relief from stress. And some days, I still sit down and try and smile seeking to find contentment in what the Lord has given.

The reality is that we may not always receive the things we want at Christmas, but we have been given the most precious gift of all -- Jesus.  My heart still yearns, but it now finds restful satisfaction in Him -- let's face it, the One and Only Life Saver, in the "sweetest story ever told."

What did you wish for as a child?

Could It be, that God says of Me, "That's My Girl! I'm So Proud of Her!"

I sat back in my chair, on a warm summer night, and watched her play soccer.

I could easily pick out who she was, on the field, even from a distance. She is my daughter. I know her. Pigtails popping back and forth, long legged and graceful like a gazelle, she floated down the field.

Watching her brought me joy.

She maneuvered fancy footwork.  She fell down and bounced right back, still going strong.  She kicked for a goal and scored! She kicked for another goal, and missed. She "high-fived" a team mate, with a word of encouragement. She kept on going.

I smiled to myself, "That's my girl! I'm so proud of her!" 

I love watching her run and play and try her best, even when she falls, and even when she has a hard game.  I am proud of her, not just in soccer, but because of who she is.

As I sat there, I found myself wondering -- when the Lord watches me live and persevere and try my best, even when I fall, could it be, that He thinks of Me, "That's my girl!  I'm so proud of her!"

The problem is, I don't always look at the Lord as being happy with me.

I see Him frustrated or critical or disappointed or angry.

What about all the times I fall down and don't just pop back up?  What about when I am no longer strong, but overwhelmed and weak?  What about the goals I've missed and the times I've failed?  Or the ways I've let others down or Him down or myself down?  What about all the broken places in me that are not beautiful? 

I see Him displeased with me.

But the Lord is trying to help me see differently.

He's been showing me and telling me, in a myriad of ways, "Dear daughter, no matter what, when I look at you, I say 'That's My girl!' I know you, I made you, I love you, I chose you and I rejoice over you. Believe it! Even when you fall, even when you fail, even when you are tired and don't know what to do, even in your brokenness, I still love you. I love you, not for what you do or don't do, but because you are Mine.  You're my girl!"

I've needed these words in the past few weeks. I've needed the reminder that He's watching me, watching over me, and cheering me on. He unfailingly adores me. 

From time to time, I doubt His love for me. When I mess up or want to give up or when my faults and failures in the present and past cloud my vision, I flounder.  But I'm asking Him to help me to see what He sees and believe what He says, "That's My girl! I'm so proud of her!" 

Maybe you need these words today, too.

Let me pray for us.

Dear Lord, help us to see who we are from Your perspective.  Help us to believe that You love us and look on us with great care, not critically.  Help us to believe that You are fond of us, not frustrated with us. Help us to believe that you are devoted to us, not disappointed in us. Help us to see ourselves as You see us, not perfect, but saved by Your Son, and chosen and dearly loved.  Forever. Amen

I Know It's Not About Me (and yet ... He's for Me!)

https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Bible/32836367113

Today, I am worn out and depleted. 

Bone dry and desert weary. Hollowed out.  Sensitive to the touch.  Weak and feeling frail.

I pulled my hair up in to a ponytail and threw on a sweatshirt, ran the kids to school and came home to clean.

I half-heartedly cried out to the Lord, “I need you, Lord! Please help me.”

I checked emails and checked Facebook, instead of checking in with Him first.

I scrolled through postings, when my eye landed on a little sticky-note shaped quote that read -- “It’s not about you.”

What?  This did not feel like help from the Holy One.

 “Yes, Lord, I know it’s not about me. I’m sorry. I just meant that I could really use some …”

My thoughts drifted off.  Probably should be stronger. Probably should be more faith-filled. Probably should be more content. Probably should be peppier. Probably should not ask. Probably should not be so needy.  Probably should not be so self-focused. Probably should not be so pathetic. Probably should not be so weak. Probably should not be so … anything.

The “should and should nots” shrouded me in shame.

I felt worse and worse, until I felt Him.

“My dearly beloved, relax.  Rest. It’s not about you, but it’s for you. I AM for you.”

A soft sigh breathed from my heart. 

I know it's not all about me. I know it's really all about Him. However,  sometimes I get confused and think that means He's not for me.  

As the cloths of shame unravelled and fell at my feet, He replaced them with wrappings of remembrance -- remembrance of who He is, how much He loves and cares for me, and how dear I am to Him.

I'm gradually coming back to life, and trying to get a grip on why I am so depleted and worn out. 

I'm still short on answers, and feeling like I have very little to give, but somehow, I don’t think He’s looking for that from me -- today.  

I think He may be just looking for me to just look at Him.

Heaven -- Heavy on My Mind

The children and I climbed in to the car, and headed off to school.

The youngest one broke the silence with her sweet voice.

“I had a weird and interesting feeling this morning, Mom, ” she said.

I replied, “Hmmm.  What was that? Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.  I just had this feeling like I wanted to be with God in heaven.”

A couple things crossed my mind, but I figured it was best to let her expound, rather than insert my own thoughts.

“What would you do if you were there right now?” I queried.

“Laugh with God, ”she giggled. “I’d crawl up in to God’s lap and have lots of snuggles.”

That started our conversation on heaven on the way to school today.   We talked about what it will look like and feel like, and who they looked forward to seeing the most when they get there.

Other than Jesus, I was surprised by what they all said -- “Parker.” 

What surprised me is that Parker isn’t even in heaven yet. He’s still here on earth.

Parker is my son and their older brother.  Born with a physical disability, cerebral palsy, Parker struggles to stand and walk. His legs are weak and tight.  A young man now, life has not always been easy for Parker. 

“Parker? Why Parker?”  I asked.

And one after the other, they each went on to explain.

“It’s just going to be very cool.  He’s going to have a new body and new legs. He’s going to be able to run and jump. He’s not going to struggle anymore. We can hardly wait to see him run free. And he'll be so excited and happy!”

And I agreed. It's going to be "very cool."

So, I’ve had heaven heavy on my mind today.  I’m picturing my Father and I, laughing, snuggled up, surrounded in great comfort. And I’m picturing Jesus. What a glorious sight it will be, and how my heart will sigh joy and rest.  And I’m picturing Parker, free from the struggle of the cerebral palsy. And I’m picturing me and you and my friends and family, free from disappointments and broken hearts and ailments and sorrow.

This life? It’s but a vapor. In the twinkling of an eye, it will all be different. No more tears. No more sorrow.  No more pain.  Just joy. And tons of it.

I don’t about you, but it helps me get through today and tomorrow and as many tomorrows as the Lord shall give. It helps me to love the Lord more, serve Him more selflessly, persevere though the pain, and love others as He has loved me.

What about you?  Ever have heaven heavy on your mind? Who are you most looking forward to seeing, and why? 

A Resurrection Love Basket

My littlest one was home sick this week, so we took time to do lots of snuggling and to create.

It’s our yearly tradition to make a resurrection basket at Easter time.  Small potted plants placed in a basket are surrounded by symbols to remind us of Jesus and His love.  His sacrificial love.  His resurrection love.

A purple ribbon and a nail.

A stone. 

The resurrection basket sits on our counter in the kitchen. The flowers bloomed today. 

A cross.

A cloth and thorns.

Life and beauty. 

This basket and it's symbols have me thinking.

Do I live His sacrificial love? Do I live His resurrection love?

Do I lay down my wants and seek what God wants?

Do I bring life out of dark places with my words and actions?

Do I bring hope in to the lives of those who are near to completely hopeless?

Do I live less of me and more of Jesus?

Do I extend grace rather than hold it tight in my hard heart?

Do I lay down my life for someone else in need, when He calls?

Do I speak words of truth that spring living from the ground or do I condemn with my looks and with my words?

Do I love much or do I love little?

Do I let His light shine through me or do I board up the windows and hide in the darkness of my own fear and shame?

Do I seek His ways or do I go my own way?

I think I need to pray. I need help. Maybe you do, too.

Lord, help me to remember You every day.  Help to look at the life around me and think of the life that you gave me. Help me to be sensitive to your Spirit to live Your sacrificial love as I love You and love others for You.  Help me to live out Your resurrection love as I hope in You everyday and bring Your hope and life to the ones You love.  Remind me of what You’ve done for me, so that I can do it for others. Amen

Does Your Soul Know Its Worth this Christmas?

It’s long been my favorite Christmas Carol – O Holy Night.

I love the way the notes and the words swirl together and form a picture of the first Christmas.

But this year, one line stands out to me --“‘Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.”

And I’ve been asking myself, “Does my soul feel its worth?”

Does yours?

I’m afraid that insecurities and inadequacies can sometimes rule the day and my heart forgets.

I get disappointed.

I fear the future.

I weary.

I doubt the Lord’s love for me.

I forget what Christmas and the cross are all about.

BUT the truth is, our souls CAN feel their worth, because Jesus came for me and He came for you.

He came for a broken world where He knew that children would be left, and relationships would struggle, and mothers would mourn and fathers would fear and the past would haunt our hopes and people would struggle with feeling alone, even when they are surrounded by many.

He came for your soul and my soul because it has value to Him. The rest of the world may not see our value, but He does.  Always.

We may feel unnoticed, but He notices us. Always

We may feel alone, but we are not. He is present. Always.

We may fear, but He brings peace to our hearts.  Always.

We may feel abandoned and rejected, but we are not. He will never leave us nor forsake us.   Ever.

We may feel worthless, but we are not. Our souls can FEEL their worth -- KNOW their worth -- and our weary heart can rejoice. Always.

Dear reader, that is my prayer for you and for me, on this O Holy Night.

Merry Christmas!