Still Trying to Make It About Me

This morning, I was thinking about something I should be doing.  I was thinking about how nobody else would know or care that I hadn't done it yet, but somehow I still felt guilty.  Immediately, James 4:17 came to mind.  "He who knows the good he ought to do, but does not do it, sins."  And, on the heels of that thought was annoyance.  I can't win for losing.  It's sin if I do the bad things.  It's sin if I don't do the good things.  Opportunities to sin abound in such a way that I just can't seem to escape them. God, you just made it too hard for me!


At that point, I guess He'd had enough of my whining because I was swiftly reminded of a very important Truth: It's not about me.

What was it I blogged just yesterday?  The same King who determined the price of my sin also provided the payment for my sin.  Salvation begins and ends with Him.  "You did not choose me, but I have chosen you ..."  "We love because He first loved us ..."  

Yes, it's true, there are countless ways for me to daily transgress against a Holy God.  The Law is there to make sure I understand what the standard is and just how far short I fall of meeting it.  "But, thanks be to God who gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."  


"And you were dead in your trespasses and sins ... BUT GOD, being rich in mercy because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ ..."

Sin abounds.  It's there whether I willfully choose it, stumble into it, negligently commit it.  But, grace abounds so much greater.  Grace.  Undeserved and freely given.  Grace, greater than all my sin.  Grace that begins in and proceeds from the heart of God.  It is NOT about me, but I am so thankful it flows over me.

More Than a King

I've had two very different praise songs stuck in my head off and on for the last several weeks.  The first is Fee's "Rise and Sing."  The line I get stuck on is "If you've been touched by the Mercy King, rise and sing! Rise and sing!"  The other is Hillsong's "Saviour King" a song about Christ bearing the weight of our sin on the cross.

What's been strange is that sometimes, I'll hear one song but soon afterward find myself singing the other as if they were interchangeable. If you know these two songs, you know they sound nothing alike.  I finally realized that I've linked the ideas of Savior King and Mercy King in my head.  The idea that God was not willing to simply be the Sovereign Ruler and Judge, but chose to take on the role of Merciful Savior captivates me.

She probably won't remember this, but many years ago, Crista Bailey was helping lead University Sunday School worship and shared her thoughts with us one morning before we sang the song Amazing Love which contains the lyric "Amazing love, how can it be that you my King would die for me?"  She talked about how in all of history, men died fighting for their kings, but King Jesus came and died for His people.  It was one of the first times I remember clearly being struck by the magnificent reversal of the Gospel.

We have a King who determined the price of our freedom, then provided the payment with His very own blood.  He is Savior and King.  He is Merciful beyond our wildest comprehension.  He, who alone is worthy to be highly exalted, chose the role of Servant and Sacrifice on our behalf.

You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had.

 Though he was God,

      he did not think of equality with God

      as something to cling to.

  Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;

      he took the humble position of a slave

      and was born as a human being.

   When he appeared in human form,

    he humbled himself in obedience to God

      and died a criminal’s death on a cross.

 Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor

      and gave him the name above all other names,

 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,

      in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,

      to the glory of God the Father.

Philippians 2:5-11

The End of V-Day

Some mornings start out gloriously, yet the day ends in a tangled mess of minor tragedies.  I hate those days.  Some mornings start out horrifically, yet somehow at the end of the day, you fall asleep with a contented smile.  I much prefer those days.

Valentine's Day feels like a mine field to me.  Most years I tolerate it without a strong opinion one way or the other.  I smile indulgently at those who feel the need to publicly proclaim their affections, try not to roll my eyes at those who claim to be "dating Jesus", and refuse to jump on the bitter bandwagon of those who rant against it all.  Still, every so often I wake on this day, and my normally level-headed, rational self has been invaded by a 20 year old drama queen who isn't capable of truth-centered thinking to save her life.  Today was one of those Valentine's Days.  

I had a foreboding feeling when I checked the mail last night and my annual "You'll always be my Valentine" card from Dad wasn't there.  To be fair, I generally laugh at that card and tell him I'm afraid he might be right.  I might always be exclusively his Valentine.  But, secretly, I love that he takes the time to pick out a card and address it in his own handwriting and tell me I'm special at least to one man on this planet.  But, last night, the mailbox was void of any personal mail, and dread set in.

This morning, I wasn't fully awake when my phone rang.  "Dad" calling.  It was the confirmation I was afraid of, no card was in the mail, just an early morning wake up call as an attempt to make up for the oversight.  I don't like to be awakened by anything other than quietly playing music, so a ringing phone with an overly jovial parent pestering me just because he can was not a great beginning.  (Sidenote: My dad is on the very short list of people in this world who know exactly what my buttons are and how to push them in perfect sequence to elicit a fullblown emotional display.  Admittedly, this can be funny, but it's also seriously annoying.)

As I rolled slowly out of bed and began my morning routine, the drama queen took over in my thoughts.  Oh, the lies she tells.  She's ridiculous, and I'm ridiculous for entertaining her.  She exhausts me.  She is straight from the pit of hell, and she knows exactly where my weak spots, tender scars, and carefully guarded wounds hide.  She pokes and prods and does her best to affirm every doubt I've ever had about myself.  I spent a long miserable day telling her she was a liar, that she was not speaking the Truth, and doing my best to preach the Truth to myself louder than she was spewing her lies.

I dragged myself home, feeling utterly defeated and wondering what in the world I had to offer the sweet women in my Community Group tonight.  A Bible study about "Becoming a Woman of Faith" from someone who was struggling to believe the most basic truths about her own identity in Christ?  This spelled disaster. Three of the women were already there when I arrived.  I listened empathetically as we stood in the kitchen and each of them exchanged war stories from the day.  I knew almost instantly that none of us needed a lecture about faith as much as we needed to be heard and lifted up in prayer tonight, so I closed the book and invited the sharing.  When it was my turn, I took a big deep breath, fixed my eyes on the corner of the wall across the room, and told them about my day and the drama queen in my head.  They listened, and they prayed, and they hugged.  And, I felt better.  The day was almost over.

On my way home, I dropped by to see some friends who'd gotten together for dinner.  I walked into a peaceful living room where they were enjoying a rambling conversation.  I sat and listened and eventually joined in, and I laughed.  I laughed that super crazy wheezing laugh that earns me strange looks and almost always gives me a headache later, but is so worth it in the moment.  I sat and soaked up the joy of being in the company of people with whom I feel known and accepted.  And, when I got back in my car two hours later, I realized the drama queen had finally shut up.  

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to preach the truth to ourselves, it takes hearing it from others to make it sink in.  The combination of my sweet Community Group listening and praying and hugging followed by the a healthy dose of laughter in the company of great friends soothed the aching places and quieted the nagging doubts.

It's nearly midnight now.  Valentine's Day 2011 has come and gone.  I'm glad I didn't write about it until the end.  The story wasn't over yet.  It wouldn't have been complete.  Tonight, I am reminded how important it is to let the story unfold, to trust the Author and believe Him when He says He does not disappoint. 

To You they cried out and were delivered; In You they trusted and were not disappointed.

Psalm 22:5

Jesus Loves Jerry Jones

DFW hosted the Super Bowl yesterday.  Jerry Jones worked hard to win the bid to do so, and to work with the host committee to make it a profitable and pleasant experience for all who would attend.  He didn’t count on a record-breaking ice/snow event shutting our fair cities down for nearly a week leading up to the Big Game.   He couldn’t have foreseen it.  He didn’t cause it.  And, he had no power to end it.

Jerry Jones purchased the Cowboys franchise 22 years ago, and many, many die-hard fans have yet to forgive him for ousting longtime beloved coach Tom Landry in his first days as owner/general manager.  Over the years, Jerry Jones has proven to be prideful, braggadocious, and greedy.  He’s probably proven to be a number of other things both good and bad, but that short list will suffice for this blog.  Some people have the wisdom and self-restraint to not say anything about the man.  Many freely deride him, his decisions, and his character.  Few speak well of him.  I think little of him at all.

Jesus loves him. 

I can’t get over that Truth today.  As I read and listen to various broadcasters spouting their opinions.  As I read others' social media posts about the freak winter weather being evidence of God's opinion about Mr. Jones.  One thing goes through my head:  Jesus loves Jerry Jones.  Jesus died to offer eternal life and right standing with God to Jerry Jones.  Jerry is a public figure, and his sins are frequently on public display.  But, in my heart of hearts, I am no less prideful, braggadocious, or greedy apart from the transforming work of Christ.  I am no less condemnable apart from Jesus.  This is an awe-full truth.

Jesus loves me.  And, Jesus loves Jerry Jones. 

O Come, All Ye Faithful

Yea, Lord, we greet thee,

Born this happy morning;

Jesus, to thee be glory given;

Word of the Father,

Now in flesh appearing;

O Come, let us adore Him;
O Come, let us adore Him;

O Come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!

And the Word (Christ) became flesh (human, incarnate) and tabernacled (fixed His tent of flesh, lived awhile) among us; and we [actually] saw His glory (His honor, His majesty), such glory as an only begotten son receives from his father, full of grace (favor, loving-kindness) and truth.

John 1:14 (AMP)

Ridiculous

Ridiculous [rid-ik-yuh-luhs] – causing or worthy of ridicule or derision; absurd; preposterous; laughable

I used this word in two different ways today.

First, I am a ridiculous person.

Second, God is ridiculous in His steadfast lovingkindness toward me.

In speaking about myself, I meant it in the worst possible sense of the word.  In speaking about the Lord, I meant it in the best possible sense of the word.  I was right on both accounts.

I’ve read my Bible in personal devotion exactly twice in the last two weeks.  In place of time in the Word, I’ve wallowed in laziness, self-pity, foolish choices, and cynicism.  I’ve mocked God’s sovereignty, calling His provision coincidence with bitterness in my heart. 

Last week, I picked my Bible up, turned the pages flippantly to that day’s reading, and rolled my eyes as I began to read Psalm 136.  Repetition drives me nuts, so the fact that the one day I decided to read fell on the same day I was assigned to read a Psalm that repeats the same phrase over and over again, annoyed me greatly.  But, I pressed on, reading twenty-six times over, “The steadfast love of the LORD endures forever.”  I remember thinking vaguely that I’d taught others in the past that the Lord repeats things in Scripture because they’re important, and they’re things we’re likely to forget.  In my self-centeredness I missed the point, though.  I couldn’t have felt less lovable that day, and the Lord had sovereignly ordained that I would read over and over again that His love for me knows no end. Ridiculously foolish of me.  Ridiculously gracious of Him.

This week, I woke once again in a self-loathing mood.  I sat down and wrote a long, grumbling, pitiful journal entry acknowledging that I had indeed given up on myself and suggesting to God that He should do the same.  I’m obviously a very slow learner.  (Ridiculously slow!)  It would be ridiculous of Him to continue wasting time, love, grace on me.  Surely others are much more deserving (of "undeserved favor").  I didn’t even read my Bible.  I was out of time because I took so long throwing my pity party.  I arrived at work, turned on my computer, and began clicking through my RSS Feeds.  My daily Bible reading plan was obviously very back logged, so almost mindlessly, I clicked on the audio feed for the day’s reading without even looking to see what it was.  A few moments later, I recognized the promise-filled words of Isaiah 54 filling my speakers.  Here’s just a snippet of what I heard,

For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, 

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, 

and my covenant of peace shall not be removed,"

 says the LORD, who has compassion on you. 

"O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted, 

behold, I will set your stones in antimony, 

and lay your foundations with sapphires. 

Isaiah 54:10-11

I sat there, stunned and teary-eyed.  And, I thought to myself, “How many times is God going to tell me that His love for me is steadfast before I stop being surprised by the steadfastness of His love?” 

Ridiculous!

Expectations

Recently, the idea was raised that perhaps it is our expectations that get us into trouble in life and with the Lord.  We pray with an expected outcome in mind, and we are disappointed when something other than what we imagined best comes to pass.  One friend stated that it is his practice to pray without expectation.  To say that this bothered and confounded me would be putting it mildly.  I’ve continued to chew on this thought for several weeks now.

In one sense, praying without expectations sounds good to me. It definitely sounds safe to me, and my closest friends will tell you that I almost always choose "safe" when it comes to my emotions.  If I don’t have expectations, I can’t be disappointed.  I hate being disappointed.  I can flow along life’s crooked stream without questioning the path or the length of the journey.  I will not wrestle with any pesky impediment because I had no expectation for the path to be smooth.

In thinking along these lines, I wrote the following thoughts last week …

If my life’s joy is wrapped up in a specific answer from God, I’m likely to be sorely disappointed over and over again.  If, however, He Himself is my joy and delight, the answer is inconsequential.  When He is my hope, I’m not praying for a job; I’m praying for provision.  I’m not praying for a mate; I’m praying for contentment.  I’m not praying for physical healing; I’m praying for God’s glory to be displayed through suffering or His power to be displayed through miraculous intervention.  I’m not praying for the waiting to end; I’m praying that I am formed more and more into the likeness of Christ. My eager hope and expectation is not in the answer but in the One who provides the answer.  I do not pray hoping that He will be good, but knowing that He is good and asking Him to reveal that goodness.  

When I pray with only my idea of what is good in mind, I will likely never know how many better things I’m leaving on the table.  The same psalmist who wrote, “The nearness of God is my good,” also wrote, “God is near to the brokenhearted.”  Sometimes, good is a broken heart that brings us near to God.  Until I have accepted that truth, I have not fully put my hope in Him.  And, until I value that nearness of God more than I value my own circumstantial happiness, I am willing to settle for far less than best. 

So, I began trying to pray that way.  The problem was, I sounded vague and distant even to my own ears. The best/worst analogy I can come up with for this is dating.  I hate dating.  I think it’s miserable and terrifying.  We spend time, money, and emotion getting to know someone, slowly pealing back all the layers of our protective personal walls, revealing our true selves to another person, knowing with each revelation that there’s the potential for someone to say, “Yeah, that’s too much. That’s going to be more than I want to work through. See ya.”  It’s agonizing.  And, when it’s over, and we rebuild those walls we’d taken down, we add another layer to protect us from the next one.  

As a result of that attitude toward dating, I tend to approach relationships with men without expectations.  I am guarded and vague and always fun and light-hearted and easy going.  If hurt, I deal with it at home.  If angry, I step away, re-evaluate and decide if I want to get over it or just put more space between me and the person who angered me. So far, it’s been a very safe (and lonely) way to go through life.  I don’t get hurt often, but that’s generally because I never give anyone enough of myself for him to truly be able do any damage.  

Sometimes, when God has not done things the way I wanted (expected) Him to do them, I’ve taken the same approach.  I back off, tell Him less about my feelings and hopes, let Him do His thing while I do mine, and tell myself it’s better that way. I mean, He is God and He's going to get His way anyway, right? A relationship without expectations. 

The problem with that approach is Scripture always gets in my way.  “…in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God …” “… pour out your heart to Him, O people …” “Call to Me and I will show you great and mighty things that you do not know.” “He who comes must believe that God is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him diligently.” “If we ask anything according to His will, we know that He hears us and if He hears us, we know that we have whatever we ask.” “Ask, and it will be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened.”

You and I have been invited to intimacy with the Lord.  He’s welcomed us to pour out our hearts before Him, not because He intends to grant every desire, but because He wants to work though each of them with us.  When I don’t acknowledge the desires of my heart before Him, whether pleasing, confusing, or downright sinful, I am denying myself the opportunity to enjoy the fullness of intimacy to which He has invited me, to know Him and to be known by Him.

Trust in the LORD, and do good;

         Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.

 Delight yourself also in the LORD,

         And He shall give you the desires of your heart. 

      

Commit your way to the LORD,

     Trust also in Him, a

nd He shall bring it to pass.

He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light,

         And your justice as the noonday.

      

Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently for Him;

         Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way, 

         Because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass.

Cease from anger, and forsake wrath;

         Do not fret—it only causes harm.

         

For evildoers shall be cut off;

         But those who wait on the LORD, t

hey shall inherit the earth.

Psalm 37:3-9

Meals on Wheels: Unflattery

One afternoon, the guy I was dating at the time went with me to deliver meals.  Our route took us by the home of John, a client I saw weekly and with whom I had a very friendly relationship.  When we walked up to the door, John pulled a "dad" move and stuck out his hand with a very formal introduction.  I just smiled.

The next week, I returned on my own for my regular visit, and John says, "So, Kristen ... that young man with you last week ... was that your ... son?"  WHAT?!?! I explained that he was a friend, my age.  He had facial hair for pete's sake!

John just put his hand on his head and groaned, "Oh, Darlin', what have I done? I meant to say 'husband' ... Is he your husband?!"  I just laughed.  John said sheepishly, "Gosh, I just wanted to know if that was my competition."  Ha!  "Too late, John -- damage done."

I couldn't help but laugh, but it was by far the most offensive thing ever asked by a client. :-)

Joy To The World

Who doesn't love Joy to the World?  I mean, seriously.  It's just plain old good news.  You've got to love that.  I was reading Luke 2 earlier today, the passage where the angel appears to the shepherds and scares them half to death then announces, "We bring tidings of great joy which shall be to all people ..."  Great Joy. To all people.  A baby, a Savior.  This changes everything.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
and makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
and wonders of His love
and wonders of His love
And wonders, wonders, of His love.


If I'm not careful, I dread Christmas.  Modern Christmas.  The busyness, the pressure to buy the perfect gifts, the unholy desire to impress others with my ability to "keep Christ in Christmas".  Writing these posts, reflecting on these lyrics, really does remind me what it is we're celebrating.  It's a big deal because He is a big deal.  A baby born in a remote village on the other side of the world over two thousand years ago changed my life.  And whether you know it or not, He changed yours, too.

I got a text from a friend this weekend asking me to pray that she'd be able to really experience an understanding of God's love for her deep down inside.  I thought of her when I was reading these lyrics, the wonders of His love.  


A popular worship song I love to crank up loudly in my car has a line in it that says, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He loves us, Oh, how He loves us!"  That's the joy to the world, the coming of One who freed us from sin and from ourselves.  The One who had every right to condemn us in His righteousness, chose to pursue us with a wondrous love instead.

We don't sing the third verse very often, but with all these things in mind, read it afresh today:

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as the curse is found!

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might dare to die.  But God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.  Romans 5:6-8

I am NOT a Medical Professional

I joked often when I was a case manager that I needed some sort of badge that read plainly, "This Person Is Not a Medical Professional."  For some reason, people frequently wanted to show me their wounds or scars or ask my opinion about an ailment -- opinions I was not qualified to offer.

One afternoon, I went to see one of my favorites, an elderly widower named Cliff.  He always seemed thankful for company and willing to sit and chat for a while.  I arrived and he told me how pretty I looked.  We sat and began to visit, and I asked about his health.  -- At this point, it is important to tell you that Cliff was not wearing a shirt. -- He began reaching over his large pot belly and messing with the elastic waistband of his shorts saying slowly, "Well, I've got something you may want to feel."  I sat frozen on the sofa at this point, holding my breath until he stopped at his belly button and added, "I've got a knot come up here, and I don't know what it is."

The man wanted me to stick my finger in his belly button and feel of what was surely a hernia!  I informed him that I was not a nurse and that he would have to talk with his doctor about that.

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

So, I'm a blended worship girl.  I like it all.  I've loved hymns and preferred to keep them as part of worship, mostly because they come with a comforting childhood familiarity.  However, as I've worked my way through some of my favorite Christmas hymns, I'm finding another reason to love they hymns.  They are theologically dense.  I've heard this argument before, but I never bothered to really engage the thought process.  But, this December, as I study the lyrics of some of my favorite songs, and the truths they set to melody and bury deep in the recesses of my heart and mine, I am so thankful and in awe of what the writers have penned.  For most of these songs, I've tried to pick a specific verse or line to share with you.  Today, I can't narrow it down.  It's all good.

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
Born to set thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.
Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever, 
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
By thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to they glorious throne.

Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,“Sovereign Lord, now let your servant die in peace,as you have promised. I have seen your salvation, which you have prepared for all people.  He is a light to reveal God to the nations, and he is the glory of your people Israel!” Luke 2:29-32

Another Story I Couldn't Tell ...

One day while visiting an elderly woman who lived alone in an apartment complex, it got to be lunch time.  She was very concerned that I might be hungry.  As I worked my way through my questions for her, I assured her I would eat when I left her, but she didn't seem convinced.  Finally, she asked if I'd like a can of Sprite.  Thinking a canned soda had to be pretty safe, I agreed. She shuffled her way into the kitchen, oxygen tank in tow.  When she got there, she decided to pour the Sprite over ice.

At this point, I began to get a little nervous.  Old people can't see well and have low energy, so their kitchens are not generally the cleanest.  Then, she asked if I'd like a straw.  A safe, sanitary method for drinking a soda?  Why, sure!  I'd love a straw!

As she shuffles back over to me with the glass, I'm going on and on about how much I prefer drinking from a straw.  Just about the time she hands me the glass, she says, "Oh, I love straws, too.  I save them and wash them and reuse them!"  I look down at the glass in my hand and notice a strange discoloration around the rim of the straw sticking up at me.  Yikes!

I held the glass politely as we continued to talk.  When she mentioned a photograph of her granddaughter that she kept in the next room, I asked to see it.  While she shuffled to find it, I quickly fed a thirsty looking plant a very refreshing soda!

The X-Files

One afternoon, I found myself sitting in the home of a 57 year old woman who was convinced she needed assisted living.  As I listened to a list of ailments a mile long, I could see out of the corner of my eye that there was a scanner program running on her computer, but I couldn't see what exactly she was running.  When she finally got up to go into the other room, I was able to clearly see that her computer was running, "The At-Home Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence."  That woman was looking for E.T. in her living room!

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Christ, by highest Heaven adored;
Christ the everlasting Lord;
Late in time, behold Him come,
Offspring of a virgin's womb.


Veiled in flesh the Godhead see;
Hail the incarnate Deity,
Pleased as man with men to dwell,
Jesus, our Emmanuel

This popular hymn celebrates the wonder of the incarnation, God made flesh.  The wonder of the Christ story is this ... the most magnificent, majestic Being was pleased to dwell among us.

... He gave up His divine privileges;

He took the humble position of a slave

and was born as a human being.

When he appeared in human form,

He humbled himself in obedience to God 

and died a criminal's death on a cross. 

Philippians 2:7-8

Ode to My Space Heater

Dear Little Space Heater,
I love you so much.
You’re here every morning;
You come through in the clutch.

I ignore you so terribly
In the spring and summer,
Even cursing your heat,
That you’re not also a fan is a bummer.

I think I don't need you at all,
But then comes winter with its icy morn.
I shiver and shake, then plug you in,
And suddenly all of my love for you is reborn.

You're Here

This one is new to me.  I heard it on the radio this afternoon and googled it tonight.  It's Francesca Battistelli's "You're Here."  I think it's kind of Mary, Did You Know? meets Strange Way to Save the World with a little Breath of Heaven thrown in for good measure.  In other words, in some ways, it's a little cheesy, but I keep coming back to the line that says, "You could have left us on our own, but you're here."  If that doesn't sum up the wonder of Christmas, I'm not sure what does.  He didn't have to come.  He didn't have to die.  He chose to humble Himself in the most unthinkable way all to make a way for us to have relationship with God.  

Hold on now, I gotta take a deep breath
I don’t know what to say when I look in your eyes
You made the world before I was born
Here I am holding You in my arms tonight

Noel, Noel
Jesus our Emmanuel

You’re here
I’m holding You so near
I’m staring into the face of my Savior
King and Creator
You could’ve left us on our own
But You’re here

Don’t know how long I’m gonna have You for
But I’ll be watching when You change the world
Look at Your hands, they’re still so small
Someday You’re gonna stretch them out and save us all

Noel, Noel, God with us Emmanuel

You’re here, I’m holding You so near oooh oh
I’m staring into the face of my Savior
King and Creator
You could’ve left us on our own
Bbut you’re here, you’re here

Someday I’m gonna look back on this
The night that God became a baby boy
Someday You’re gonna go home again,
But You leave your spirit and flood the world with joy

You’ll be here, I’m holding You so near
I’m staring into the face of my Savior, King and Creator
You could’ve left me on my own, but you’re here… You’re here
Hallelujah, You’re here
Hallelujah, You’re here

 In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. 

Philippians 2:5-11

Passion for People

Last weekend, over Sunday lunch, a conversation started up about passion, specifically thing things one feels strongly enough to argue over or defend.  It was noted that I am not one who is quick to fight.  There are very few things I feel strongly enough to engage in verbal disagreements about.  I don't enjoy arguments for arguments sake, and while I might have opinions, I am not always quick to share them persuasively.

This bothered me.  I chewed on it most of the afternoon.  I love passionate people.  I admire people who feel strongly about things and take a stand for what they think is right.  Sometimes that's something really important, but other times, it's just an opinion about music or movies or sports.  I didn't like to think that I was not a passionate person because that seemed to say that I don't feel deeply.  That is certainly not the case.

Late that afternoon when I'd thought myself in circles, I went to my good, excessively passionate friend Erin and asked her what she thought.  She laughed and said she'd been thinking through the same issue regarding me.  She came to the conclusion that the only way to really rile me up is to directly attack someone I love.  She pointed out that someone could sit there all day and attack my musical, political, sports, or movie preferences, possibly even my theological leanings and I wouldn't take the bait, but were that same person to directly malign the character of or be intentionally hurtful toward one of the others sitting at that same table, I'd have put a stop to it in a heartbeat.  And, when she said it, I knew it was true.

My heart, the seat of my emotions, soars and plummets with those I love.  I was laughing with my best friend this morning because I caught myself tearing up over something really silly.  I quickly realized, though, it wasn't really what she'd said that had my heart in my throat as much as all the really wonderful emotional moments I'd had building up over the course of several days.

From celebrating with CWJC graduates to coffee with long lost Peruvian missionary friends and adventures with a locksmith to impromptu family gatherings around football, a joyful lunch with my treasured church family to dinner with a loving and generous older couple intentionally pouring into my life ... it was one heck of a weekend.  My heart and head can barely contain it all still.

So, where was I?  Oh, yes, people.  I am passionate about people.  I am passionate about friends with and for whom I've fought to be close.  I'm passionate about friends who are no longer close in proximity but are never far from thought.  I'm passionate about women who are making major life changes one small decision at a time.  I'm passionate about family and the determination to love in a I Corinthians 13:7 sort of way.  So, if I seem a little weepy this week, it's just my heart overflowing via my tear ducts.  Don't worry.  They're probably happy tears.

I'm passionate about loving others well and making sure they know they are loved.  Step on that, and we might go to fighting.

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. I Corinthians 13:7

Generous Obedience

I was writing Christmas cards to some of my full time volunteers this morning at work.  These are people who literally put in as many hours on the job as I do, but don't take home a single penny or any other measurable benefit for their time and effort.  They amaze me.  As I wrote to one precious couple who have given and given to Cornerstone and its clients this year, I thanked them for their "generous obedience".  It was a phrase that just came to me as I was writing, but I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.

That particular couple has basically allowed the Lord to turn their lives inside out and upside down as they've followed Him on a wild roller coaster ride into full time ministry this last year.  They have opened their hearts and lives to others in new and profound ways, and they will tell anyone listening that they are not the same people they were just twelve short months ago before either of them ever set foot in my office.

As a director of volunteers, there is no greater story.  It is the perfect tale of people impacting and being impacted through volunteerism.  But, as a follower of Christ, it's an even more powerful lesson.  Because this man and woman were willing to obediently follow God into a great unknown and have continued to walk faithfully through the doors He's opened despite numerous difficulties and hardships, countless lives have been touched.  That's the generosity of their obedience.  In obeying God, they gave generously to all who were standing near enough to see.

Because they obeyed, I am challenged and encouraged and energized in my own commitment to obedience.  Because on multiple occasions throughout the year, they continued to obey when I thought for sure any sane person would have thrown in the towel, I was challenged and encouraged and energized to go harder and farther with Christ.  Because they obeyed in the small things then looked for ways to obey in the bigger things, I was challenged and encouraged and energized to match their enthusiasm in my own life. Their obedience became a generous gift to me.  And, I know I'm not alone.

This year, I have been made aware in so many special ways of the power of the Body of Christ.  I have been reminded over and over again that, as believers in Christ, we never act alone.  

Run hard. Run fast. Run long. In one direction.

Brothers and Sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God in Christ Jesus has called me heavenward. Philippians 3:13-14

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas day,

Their old, familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come

The belfries of all Christendom 

Had rolled along the unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:

There is no peace on earth, I said.

For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned this hymn in 1867.  It's another slow, somber one.  And, again, I love it.  It tells a story of someone contemplating the deep chasm between the hope of Christmas and the despair of life. 

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend about faith.  My conclusion was one that I've shared numerous times, faith is believing that God is good despite all evidence to the contrary.  It is knowing the heart and character of God in such a way that you trust Him to be and do good in all things at all times.  It's trusting that His definition of good, while often different from mine, is best.  

I am thankful that Longfellow did not leave the hymn alone after the third verse, but added a fourth and fifth.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

God is not dead; He does not sleep!

The wrong shall fail; the right prevail!

With peace on earth, goodwill to men.

Till, ringing, singing, on its way,

The world revolved from night to day

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

The wonder of Christmas is that there is hope.  The despair is real.  The harsh realities of life are enough to knock anyone sideways.  But despair does not have the final word.  Our good and gracious, loving and merciful God made a way.

Because of God's tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace. Luke 1:78-79

O Holy Night

If "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" is my very most favorite Christmas hymn, "O Holy Night" is a very close second.

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.
Long lay the word in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the Soul felt its worth.


A thrill of hope! The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O holy night, O night divine!


There are a couple of things I love about this song.  First, I love the idea of acknowledging and celebrating a very specific, significant moment in time. My dad is notorious at family gatherings for stopping in the midst of the chaos, looking around at the kids and all who are gathered there and saying, "It will never be this way again."  We may all gather again, but we will never be exactly the same as we are on that day.  I don't pretend to know when Jesus was really born, but I do know that the night of his birth changed everything.  It was truly a night set apart.

Second, I hope I never get over the line, "a weary world rejoices".  The fact that it's followed by the celebration of a "new and glorious morn" -- and you all know how I feel about mornings -- just makes it that much better.  It's that beautiful contrast that draws me over and over again to the glory of Christmas.

But when the right time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, subject to the law.  God sent Him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that He could adopt us as His very own children. Galatians 4:4-5