Lost

Yesterday was the birthday of our oldest adopted son. I didn’t celebrate out loud. I didn’t celebrate with joy. I didn’t celebrate with him. In my heart, I remembered the impish smile that was often on his face from the day we first met. In my heart, I also remembered how that playful expression would at times become anxious as he fixated on imaginary other-worlds. I think his fantasies were born out of loss... loss of people and places that in reality, no one should have to mourn. His loss has been magnified by the schizophrenic legacy of his birth family. Bit by bit through his young adulthood, our son has become lost in his loss. He has become lost to us, who are his adoptive family. He has become lost to his birth brother, who lived at his side for a lifetime. He has become lost to his friends, who he once reveled in the presence of. He has become lost, and as a result, we are now a reflection of his loss. It is not a reflection made up of regret. I don’t regret loving him. I don’t regret the space we invited him to fill in our family more than 21 years ago. Even now, when he has chosen to leave that space he once filled... I don’t regret the impression of him left behind. What we reflect are the reminders that he was once here. Our loss reminds us that he was actively loved. Our loss reminds us that even though he has turned away now - he has turned away as a stronger person for having been loved through his own greatest loss. Our loss reminds us of the loss our own Father God experiences when one of His children turns their back to Him. So, on our son’s birthday as I contemplated his life, I purposed to celebrate with gratitude... to be grateful that he is in a safe place, to be grateful for the many memories of our time with him that bring smiles to all of our faces, to be grateful for the opportunity to learn to love someone through difficult circumstances and even through loss, and for the strength that lesson has grown in us as a family. CS Lewis wrote, “Love is never wasted, for its value does not rest on reciprocity.” I know these words are true.

Yesterday was the birthday of our son. I am grateful for him, and I celebrate his life in my heart. 

More of this story:

http://ofwildernessandrockyplaces.blogspot.com/2016/?m=0

“Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight...”

‭‭James‬ ‭1:27‬a ‭MSG‬‬

Love Rises

My mom and dad have what is surely the best example I know of what an enduring marriage relationship looks like. When I look at their relationship with each other, I see that the strength that holds them together is the inclusion of God. I love the quote by Tennessee Williams, "The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks." Those words paint a miraculous picture of the fragile thing overcoming the hard thing, of beauty and life surviving in the crevices of dark and difficult circumstances. I myself have experienced that marriage is not easy, especially in the face of the ongoing trauma that surrounds having a family member with extensive medical issues. My parents have experienced those circumstances in their marriage, my younger brother having been born with a rare form of muscular dystrophy that compromised his physical health and development throughout his 22 years of life. The experience of chronic trauma in our family was compounded by the additional heartbreak of my brother’s death. My parents’ response to such difficulty and sorrow always has taught me well about the paradox of suffering. They showed me that the pain of suffering brings about the gift of learning to love with no regrets, and learning to limit your focus to the most important things in life. My mom and dad’s example has helped me to understand that the very thing that feels like it is threatening to tear a family apart, can actually be a catalyst that brings deep unity to that family instead. Their example of faith has shown me that by choosing to trust God in circumstances that are unthinkably terrible, I am allowing him the opportunity to turn what seems tragic into something more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. In their marriage, my parents allowed God to carry them to places where they surely never would have chosen to go on their own. They have trusted God through many situations which anyone could not possibly choose to embrace, and which many people would even bitterly say called for resentment. Yet, here they are today, truly living in gratitude for the dark valleys they have journeyed through. Here they are today, privileged to experience a glimpse of a present and a future that is not framed by the lack of what they have lost, but rather by the love of what they have grown. I know that their love today does not exist because they have spent the last 50 years gazing at themselves, or even at each other. I know that their love exists today because over the last 50 years, they have consistently chosen together to look in the direction of God. I am so thankful for their example that the most important thing a husband and a wife can do in their marriage relationship, is to cling to love for God and for each other. My parent’s marriage and their lives are truly evidence that love will always rise when given the opportunity.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

"...I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness'"

2 Corinthians 12:8b-9a NIV

The Dark Side of Light

Depression follows me like a shadow, and my perspective of it shifts based on where my eyes are looking. Most often, I am looking at my family, and I see darkness and light play over their lives in varying degrees of contrast.

I see my oldest adopted son, whom has spiraled from the joyful light of living out his dreams and achieving his goals, down into the dark depths of schizophrenia. I see the shadows of paranoia, hostility, and anger that have hurt and isolated him from the people who care about him the most. I am helpless to stop the darkness from consuming my son, and the obvious contrast to the light-filled life he has left behind makes my heart ache. The years of effort and love that my family and my brother's family have invested into him causes my sense of reason to shake its fist in frustration and ask "Why? Why would God bring him to us, only to allow him to be lost like this?" Matthew 5:3 in The Message Bible says, "You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule." I am trying to come to a place where I can have hope in my son's "poorness of spirit". Jesus said that he would bless those who found themselves in the circumstance of being emotionally depleted. While I cannot understand why my son is rejecting the life and the people that he had previously chosen to care about, I also cannot understand the pain of the twelve years he lived before I ever knew him. What I do understand is that I know my son is aware of the love that God has for him. He has been immersed in that love for the last twenty years of his life, and it cannot be without effect.

I also see my husband, who suffers daily with pain and exhaustion. I see the shadow of disease hanging over his life, limiting his relationships, challenging every celebration, coloring every experience with its unavoidable presence. I hear his tired voice as he pushes through each day, never questioning why, just dealing with what's in front of him and inside of him as it comes. I feel his frustration as we figure out our limited finances and as we plan our family schedule trying to predict his stamina. I feel his arms around me as he gingerly holds me - tight enough to comfort me, loose enough to avoid more pain in his body. I respect him for his refusal to feel sorry for himself and his refusal to allow others to offer him pity. I am not so strong as he is, though, and I sometimes cry over the shadow that his sickness casts over the life we once lived as I mourn what we've lost. Matthew 5:4 in The Message Bible says, "You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you." Maybe that's why my husband can accept his situation without question. Maybe his acceptance of what is gone opens him up to the comfort God has for him. Maybe the peace he now has within himself is something he would have never experienced with the intense focus he used to have on things in his life which brought only temporary satisfaction. Maybe he does mourn what is lost, but the comfort of God fills him with gratitude for the blessing he has in his family and in his faith.

I see another of my sons, who teeters on the edge of darkness and light. I see the shadows pulling at him, as they also do me. I see him struggle with the hopelessness of the dark things of the world that stand out so starkly against the light which he knows holds God. I listen to him reason through his own emotions. I watch him fight with his own impulses. I feel his pain and his confusion as he wades through the muck of adolescence and of this world that sucks at his feet and tries to pull him down. I deliberate over parenting decisions and finding balance between guidance and trust. I ruminate over the past and wonder if I protected him enough or if I protected him too much. I love him fiercely, but I know that my love alone is not enough to keep him from being overcome by the dark. Matthew 5:5 in The Message Bible says, "You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.” I know that my son battles with his emotions. I know that it's scary to be vulnerable and transparent and to let people really know who you are inside. I know this because I often face the same battle and fear. I want to hide away and deny my fears and protect myself from the judgement and knowledge of people around me. But I also know that letting people know me is what God created me for. I know that he wants us to encourage each other and to grow together and to never feel alone. And I also know that when someone rejects who I am, that it does not change my value, no matter how much it hurts. When I watch my son struggle, I sometimes feel helpless, but never hopeless. I know that he belongs to God and that nothing can ever overcome that.

So... this again is the paradox of blessing. I know that my need for God is greatest when my circumstances are too big for me. I know that it means I am blessed by the difficulties I face because they push me down and cause me to be dependent on God to lift me up. I know that dependency means God's presence in my life has the opportunity to be big and strong. I know that strong presence is a light that is bright. However, I have also experienced that the brightness makes the contrast of the dark things even more prominent. This is where I struggle to stay in the light, rather than step back into the gray of the shadows. Choosing to see suffering and choosing to be seen in my own suffering is very difficult. The grayness of depression allows me to avoid dealing with an emotional intensity that is painful and revealing. Yet, I realize that God has called the grayness a worthless place to remain. He does not want me to be hidden. He desires me to bring his flavor to the situations I am faced with in my life. He desires me to shine his light out into the darkness that surrounds me. It's up to me to decide now, whether to stay hidden in the grayness or to walk towards hope and leave the shadows behind.

“You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:13‬ ‭NLT‬‬

“No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house.”
‭‭Matthew‬ ‭5:15‬ ‭NLT‬‬

"It is not the emotionally endowed that God blesses, but the poor in spirit. It is not the buoyant and boisterous he comforts, but those who mourn. Not the prideful, but the meek." -David Mathis

“God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs. God blesses those who mourn, for they will be comforted. God blesses those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth.” -Matthew‬ ‭5:3-5‬ ‭NLT‬‬

"Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us." - Samuel Smiles

This Flower Called Marriage

Dear Jason,

I love this handmade anniversary card that came in the mail for us from my parents today. I appreciate more and more my mom's talent as a nature photographer. This photo she sent to us is so beautiful - with the flower petals overlapping, one blossom resting on the other, the centers of the growing flowers filled with life-giving pollen. 

This photo reminds me of our marriage on the days it is at its best, but ironically, it is often-times that those good marriage days are some of the hardest "life" days. 

I think about how we are entangled with each other, our lives woven together over the last 28 years since we met, our history overlapping like these flower petals. We are steadier in a storm because we are standing together, even in the times we ourselves feel like pushing or pulling away, even when our circumstances attempt to push or pull us away. Being interwoven almost forces us to persevere together, in order to survive at all. I reminisce about how we each have had in the past and will again have in the future, our stronger times and our weaker times. (Thankfully, usually not at the SAME time!) During those times, each of us knows we can lean on the other, lay our head against a loving shoulder and feel supported, even in the times when there are no words to help. Sometimes, just being able to rest on each other renews our strength to continue the climb.

I gaze at the yellow center of the flowers, where the pollen's purpose is to give life. I know you will agree we discovered early on that we will surely fail each other often - that neither of us are perfect, and that neither one of us can be the other's savior- no matter how much we desire to rescue each other. I believe we have both learned that putting each other at our center is as destructive as putting our own self or our children or our finances or our health in that most central place. More importantly, I believe we have learned individually, and as a couple, to keep God at our center, because God is where our marriage draws its life from, and God is the source for our relationship to create seeds that grow fruit such as love, consideration, patience, and faithfulness.

I sit here journaling on this night before our 22nd anniversary, contemplating this beautiful photo, my mind flooded by this entire garden of thoughts accompanying the sweet sentiment from my parents. I am overwhelmed by the glimpses of truth revealed in such a small piece of creation. I am fully graced by God's love for both of us and for our family. I am grateful for the gift He has blessed me with by planting you and me together, so that we may share deep roots in the rich soil of His goodness. I know that we will continue to weather the fierce storms and the burning heat of each drought, and I know that we will also continue to soak up the gentle rains and life-light of the sun. I know that we will thrive together, all the while leaning on each other, and faithfully keeping our faces hope-filled and upturned to gaze at Him. 

My prayer for you this next year, my husband, is from Ephesians 3:14-19, "When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from His glorious, unlimited resources He will empower you with inner strength through His Spirit. Then Christ will continue to make His home in your heart as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep His love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God."

And my prayer for our marriage follows in verse 20, 

"Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think."

Happy Anniversary,

I love you always.

“I have heard all about you, Lord. I am filled with awe by your amazing works. In this time of our deep need, help us again as you did in years gone by... remember your mercy.”

Habakkuk 3:2 NLT

"They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit."

Jeremiah 17:8 NLT

“I will send you the seasonal rains. The land will then yield its crops, and the trees of the field will produce their fruit... I will walk among you; I will be your God, and you will be my people.”

Leviticus 26:4,12 NLT

                    June 11, 1994

Another Anniversary Post:

http://ofwildernessandrockyplaces.blogspot.com/2014/06/i-will.html?m=1

The Light Side of Dark

"THERE ARE STORIES ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED... IT'S TRUE. ALL OF IT. THE DARK SIDE, THE JEDI. THEY'RE REAL." 

My husband, my son, and I had a dinner and movie date last night, and we went to see the new episode of StarWars. It was so great seeing some of the old characters and storylines blend into new exciting ones, and others conclude as lives reaped what had been sown. As I watched the story on the screen whose beginning first thrilled me when I was the age of 6 years old, the story which continued to unfold across my lifetime to where my present age is 45 years old, I couldn't help but consider the allegorical connection. I thought about how we don't know at the beginning of our life stories where the adventures will lead - what conflicts might come, what relationships will develop, what trials will be faced, what lessons learned. Maybe if we did, we would choose to skip the hard parts, the scary parts, the parts and the people that bring difficulty and distress. However, we need to realize that it's by experiencing the conflict - facing each challenge, living through pain and fear and anger and sadness, gleaning the good stuff and leaving behind the bad - that we are able to find the blessings of satisfaction, of gratitude, of contentment, of joy. It's by choosing to live through every moment written for us that we get to the ending that was meant for us. 

IT'S BY CHOOSING TO LIVE THROUGH EVERY MOMENT WRITTEN FOR US THAT WE GET TO THE ENDING THAT WAS MEANT FOR US.

Last night, as I sat in the theater next to my husband and my grown son watching the continuation of a life spanning saga unfold on the movie screen, I thought of the numerous challenges I've encountered both in marriage and in parenthood. As difficult as many of those experiences have been, I know without hesitation that I would purposefully choose to relive each arduous moment because I believe it is only with the toil that an appreciation for the preciousness of contented moments grows, such as the gratitude and joy I feel in just spending time with my family. 

As the movie ended with the scene of the scarred hero contemplating the light saber marked with his life experiences held out by the hope filled young heroine, my StarWars-inspired reflection ended with these conclusions: 

1) The prize of a valuable relationship is worth the difficult responsibility required in striving for that connection to live and to flourish. 

2) No matter how dark the circumstances around us seem to be, there is there is nothing so dark that it cannot be overcome by light. Like the Apostle John wrote in chapter 1 of his book, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” 

Oh, and StarWars: Episode VII? Definitely four stars! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Relentless

I attended a summer youth camp as a nurse a few weeks ago.  A few times that week, I was able to get away from the health center in the evening to listen to the guest speaker. One night as he talked, the speaker hushed the large audience into silence and directed each of us to wait and listen for God to whisper a word into our heart. The word that came to my mind and echoed over and over again was "relentless". It wasn't a word that had been on my mind or in my conversation that week, but the feeling that came over me as I thought about it during that moment, was almost one of familiarity. Hearing the word in my head felt confirming… like when elderly folks empathetically discuss the difficult happenings in someone else's life, nodding their heads up and down in understanding that life is not easy, and that every person is faced with their own set of struggles and disappointments as they move through one day after another.

I quietly slipped through the side door to return to my nursing duties, and was not surprised to be quickly followed by my most “frequent flier”. I greeted him affectionately, and asked if he needed something, although I suspected I knew what it was.

“The bandage came off again,” he said sheepishly, hands in his pocket

“How do you know?” I asked, looking curiously at his feet which were enclosed in both socks and shoes, just as they had been forty minutes earlier. I myself, had carefully eased the sock over his right foot, then watched as he put on and then tied the shoes I had directed him to wear instead of the flip.-flops he had been wearing throughout that day.

“Well, I had to look at it!” he said in a worried voice, anxiety clouding his deep brown eyes. “I know that stick poked into my bone. It probably has a hole in it! It’s gonna rot my foot off!”

I sighed as I thought about the 4 or 5 times I had already rebandaged a small cut under his toe where a stick had lacerated the skin a couple of hours earlier.

“Buddy,” I said as I handed him two band-aids and sat in a chair, “I promise you, it’s just a small cut in your skin, there is not a hole in your bone, and your foot is not going to rot off… it’s really not!”

He looked at me miserably, and I thought of the note his mom had given me about his struggles with worry, as well as her suggestion that I try and distract him. “Distract him?”  I thought, “I have tried to over and over, all week long! It’s been one small thing after another… some real, some imagined… but, truly, this boy is impossible to be distracted! He is relentless!”

Relentless!

Suddenly, I knew what to do, because God had whispered that word in my ear. “Hey…” I said softly to my young friend. “I’m not going to bandage up your foot anymore. I gave you those two extra bandaids and you can put one of those on it yourself if you would like to. I know that we cleaned it and put ointment on it, and I know that even though it’s a bit sore, it’s gonna heal in a few days, and you’re gonna be just fine!”

“How do you know?” he mumbled, not looking up, shuffling his feet on the floor.

“Because I do,” I said. “God made that skin on your foot to protect your bones from that stick. He made that skin so that even when it gets hurt doing it’s job, it can heal itself by making new cells and becoming strong again. I trust God! I trust that when he made you, he did a great job, and that you are going to be just fine.”

I paused and waited, my eyes on the top of his head.

Finally, he raised his gaze towards me, and his eyes filled with tears. “But I can’t stop thinking about it!”

“Well…” I said, and thought for a moment. “How ‘bout this? Every time you think about it, Buddy - that’s an opportunity to remind yourself that God is relentless in His goodness and in His faithfulness. And even if you think about it a hundred times before you go to bed tonite, that’s a hundred chances you’ll have to thank God for His goodness and His faithfulness and to ask Him for healing.”

I sat back while he contemplated my words silently. As we heard the voices of more kids coming up the sidewalk, he stuffed the bandaids in his pocket. Giving me one last puppy dog look, he disappeared out the door.

After five days of providing around the clock nursing care for hundreds of teens, I went home from that camp drained and exhausted, but in the back of my mind still, was the word that God had given me just the few nights before.

Relentless.

It made me think of the sun shining in the desert, or the ocean waves pounding against a cliff… things that are powerful, naturally driven, connected with both life and destruction.

Relentless.

I turned the word over and over in my mind, and I looked it up in the dictionary:

Relentless. /rəˈlen(t)ləs/ adjective:

oppressively constant; incessant...

I looked it up in the thesaurus:

persistent, continuing, constant, continual, continuous, non-stop, never-ending, unabating, incessant, unceasing, endless, unremitting, unrelenting, unrelieved, unfaltering, unflagging, unwavering, dogged, tenacious, single-minded, tireless, indefatigable...

Indefatigable!!! I knew as I read that particular synonym that God was not using relentless to describe me, because anyone who knows me, knows that I am without a doubt fatigable!

However, this word relentless -  it did seem to describe how I often feel about my own life circumstances, and, more-so perhaps, about the circumstances present in the world around me.

My own family lives daily with the constancy of a chronic incurable disease in our midst. We arrange ourselves - our activities, our conversations, our noise level, our holidays, our relationships… our entire lives really, around the incessant presence of pain. Our need to consider it is never-ending, and our quest to tame it is unwavering. We seem to be in a continual pursuit of balance  - not wanting to bow down to pain by sacrificing our joy, yet not wanting to instigate pain with a disregard for its latent tendency to react strongly to exuberant living. This persistent dilemma of the unknowns about the future is relentless in its attempt to steal today from us.

There are innumerable atrocious circumstances in our present reality. Every day we hear about the horrors in our own country and across the world, of what one or more humans under the influence of unimaginable evil, will do to the most pure and innocent of all people. These situations persistently, continually, constantly, continuously, never-endingly, unabatingly, incessantly, unceasingly, endlessly, unremittingly, unrelievedly, unfalteringly, unflaggingly, unwaveringly, doggedly, tenaciously, single-mindedly, tirelessly, indefatigably never ever stop pursuing destruction. They are relentless!

I began to wonder why God would whisper this discouraging word to me, why he felt a need to plant it within me when I already struggle each day to not drown in heavy laden thoughts of the hopelessness of this world.

I thought again of the relentless sun, shining hotly on the desert plain, baking the ground a full thirty degrees hotter than the stifling air above it, until it cracks into a mass of chaotic grids. I thought of the powerful ocean waves pounding relentlessly against a cliff, undercutting it with sand and water and rock, over and over and over again, steadily destroying it into pieces that crash into the water below.

As I continued over the next weeks to on and off muse over the word, a revelation finally occured to me in the middle of my antagonistic thoughts about it. Relentless, the very word that exemplifies the arduous adversity in life - this word, this very same word, also illustrates everything that my God means to me.

God is relentless in the pursuit of my heart.

God is relentless in his desire for my devotion.

God is relentless in his faithfulness to never leave me on my own,

God is relentless in keeping every single one of the  promises He has made in His Word.

C.S. Lewis said, “The great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and therefore, it is quite relentless…”

The Apostle Paul wrote, “And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.  No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38)

If the same word that describes the circumstances I am surrounded with, also describes my God, then I can only conclude that God is present with me in all of these circumstances.Though the world can be horrific and each day filled with difficulty and suffering, if I walk through the desert in the presence of God, He will be relentless in using what otherwise would steal and to destroy anything good in me, to instead give me life, and to give it to me abundantly. A relentless life is a blessing, not because I avoid the hard things or because I am blind to reality, but because I can walk through the midst of it all with God, and in His presence find peace instead of resentment, calmness instead of anger, patience instead of frustration, and love instead of hatred.

God created the sun to light up the world and nourish His living creation - the same sun that burns, brings life. He created the waves to carry life in the sea, to carry life to the shore - the same waves that crash, carry life.

I think that I finally understand the intention of God in placing that word in my mind one month ago. He was reminding me of who He is, of what He wants, and of His promises to me. He knows that in my humanness, I struggle more often than not, to appreciate and embrace - or at times, to even just tolerate the relentless life I live in. He gave me the gift of a word to remind me to have hope in His faithfulness and to wait for His joy.

The morning after that chapel service at youth camp, as I unlocked the door to the health center, my buddy was standing there waiting for me. I smiled and invited him in, wondering how he had fared through the night with his worry.

“Umm, can I have another bandaid?” he asked, a bit sheepishly.

I held one out to him silently, a questioning grin on my face, I’m sure.

“I know God is going to heal it,” he said confidently, then gave me a sideways look. “I know He is... even though I still think my bone is rotting… even though my foot might fall off.” His confidence waned. “Maybe I should go to the doctor when I get home?” he asked uncertainly.

With a sigh, I pulled out a chair and motioned him to sit down. “C’mon then buddy, take off your shoe and let’s have a look, and let’s go over this again…”

Relentless...

" I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,

   the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed.

I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—

   the feeling of hitting the bottom.

But there’s one other thing I remember,

   and remembering, I keep a grip on hope:

God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out,

   his merciful love couldn’t have dried up.

They’re created new every morning.

   How great your faithfulness!

I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over).

   He’s all I’ve got left.

God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,

   to the woman who diligently seeks.

It’s a good thing to quietly hope,

   quietly hope for help from God."

(Lamentations 3:19-26, The Message Bible)

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”   (Romans 8:28, KJV)

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full,”

(John 10:10 NIV)

“Sustain me according to your promise, and I will live; do not let my hope be crushed." 
(Psalm 119:116)

Waiting for Christmas

I am snuggled up to a heating pad in the living room, soothing my achy hipbone which is bruised from a fall on the ice three weeks ago. Our Christmas tree is lit up with its oversized bulbs softly glowing, each branch heavy with homemade treasures and cartoonish themed store-bought ornaments placed haphazardly by the kids last week. They were thrilled this fun tree was given the place of honor between the dining and living rooms. Usually, that space is occupied by this Mama’s fancy tree hung with white miniature lights and dressed in beautifully crocheted ornaments accented with glass blown icicles. Most often, the fun tree has been confined to the family room. But this year, the fun tree is the centerpiece of our indoor Christmas decorating. We also have an imitation “elf on the shelf” who hangs out in our bathroom (so that she doesn’t become lost or forgotten in the chaos of a house where six children reside). Our stockings are hung from cup hooks in the kitchen (with care… of course, with care!) and a three and half foot stuffed Santa is gracing our family room couch at the moment because my goofy kid-hearted husband thinks it’s “cool” (which it is... in a cheezy North Pole kind of way!)

I feel completely at peace about our haphazard decor this year… an interesting perspective when I consider the untouched tower of bins in the corner of our garage holding a beautiful nutcracker collection, a wooden advent calendar, antique Christmas dishes, a precious carved nativity set, Christmas themed picture books, framed photos of holidays past, and an entire Christmas village. These, and a few other family Christmas heirlooms have been collected over our twenty plus years of marriage. Traditionally, after eleven months of waiting each year, we bring these Christmas items out to replace our everyday home decor which, in turn is packed up in the empty bins for the holiday month. Usually, it doesn't seem like Christmas until the house is prepared, but this year, it just was not a feat that we could accomplish. And it’s okay! Because like I wrote in my last post, I am learning this year, for maybe truly the first time ever, what it means to prepare my heart for Christmas.

In years past, I didn’t think a whole lot about Christmas during the eleven months between one December and the next (other than buying an occasional gift on clearance and throwing it in the back of the closet). December would come, the decorations would go up, and I would attempt to focus my thoughts on the birth of Jesus, and what that meant for me. There were definitely moments where I connected with the emotion of the story - like the year I was nine months pregnant with my son, whose due date was two weeks after Christmas. That year, I identified with the heavy weariness of Mary… I felt significant compassion for this young girl 2000 years earlier who was required to travel so far under such barbaric conditions - cold and wracked with labor pains, no place to lay down and rest - let alone to birth a baby! But the empathy of that moment or other fleeting ones similar, did not really fill the longing in my heart for a total awareness and understanding of the meaning of Christmas as the celebration came and went each year. I mean, I knew why we were celebrating Christmas. I knew we were honoring the birth of Jesus. I knew we were showing gratitude to the Father for the gift of the Son. I knew that part of the celebration was reflected in the activities we chose to involve ourselves in such as giving to charities or participating in church events. However, the connection I experienced with the meaning was temporary, fleeting - not even close to the confluence of the event with its personal relevance to me that I somehow knew could exist.

But this year, this year! This year I believe I have discovered what I have been yearning for every Christmas for as long as I can remember. What I have come to understand is that Christmas is about the preparation of my heart that requires more than the hour of the Christmas Eve Service, more than the month of December when the world dictates we focus on Christmas. Christmas is about the process of preparing my heart for Christ that occurs the whole year through. It is about the relationship I am building with Jesus my whole life through!

I have spent the last year in relationship with Jesus in a way I have never experienced before. I have explored my Bible daily at the least, more often even several times throughout a day, searching the words that have come from my God, listening for the ones which are speaking to my heart at that moment, choosing ones to use in my prayers as I have grasped on to God's promises and direction. As I have meditated on His words, I have spoken or written my own back to Him- questioning Him, thanking Him, appealing to Him, praising Him, and even pouring out my anger, disappointment, or despair to Him. Rarely has an hour gone by that I have not found myself commenting to God. Rarely has a week gone by that I have not found myself either crying to God or sharing the good things in my life with Him. And I have not limited the subject of our conversations to myself, but have also spent time bringing my husband, my family, my friends, my acquaintances, and even strangers whose circumstances take my notice - all of these I have brought to God in prayer.

God has revealed so much more of Himself to me during this year, than I have ever experienced of Him before. He has been patient with my hesitency to always trust Him. He has been forgiving of my stubborn attempts to override Him when I ignorantly wanted my own way. He has comforted me in so many different ways when all I could do was cry. God has been everything to me this year that I have needed, every time that I have been willing to allow Him to be.

Most significant of all, is what God has done for me this past year by allowing me to remain in a season of waiting... even when I didn't want to wait (which I am ashamed to say has been the case more often then not). After an entire year spent in this time of waiting, what I am finally just beginning to discover is that the waiting is a gift! God has opened my eyes, and I now can see that it is in the waiting time that He prepares me for what is coming next! Because I have invested so much time during this past year in my relationship with Him, I have learned, repetitively, that I need to consciously surrender to Him my need for control, and to trust Him to prepare me in His best possible way for what is ahead. I see that when I am more often able to come to that place of surrender, I can more often choose to wait with hope and with expectancy, with grace and with a good attitude, with patience and with faith. This is how I prepare my heart for Christmas!

In the book The Blessed Woman, the author refers to the story of Rebekah in the Old Testament, specifically to Rebekah's attitude in waiting…“In the meantime, she would meet the need at hand. She’d take the opportunity the Lord had given her.” I want very much to have that attitude of waiting that Rebekah had.  

All year, I have consciously moved closer to Jesus. During this time He has shown me opportunity after opportunity in the waiting time to serve other people, to pray for other people, to listen to other people. He has shown me that as I prepare my heart to receive Him, He prepares my heart to follow Him. This Christmas, I believe I finally understand that celebrating the birth of Jesus is about the anticipation. 

For Mary and Joseph, it was about the anticipation of the details surrounding the actual birth. 

For the shepherds, it was about the anticipation of seeing with their own eyes the miraculous news which the magnificent angel had shared with them. 

For the wisemen, it was about the anticipation of the destination the star was leading them to and the possibility of worshipping this King whom the prophets for hundreds of years had written was coming. 

For me, celebrating the birth of Jesus is about the anicipation of what God will do next in my life. 

I am now, more than ever, aware of and amazed at all of the miracles that came together surrounding the birth of Jesus on that first Christmas night. Because of this last year of intentionally trying to remain in a consistently close relationship with Him, I am now more aware that His birth as a human on the first Christmas, is precisely the miracle that allows Him to relate to exactly who I am today - everything I feel, everything I fear, everything I desire - nothing is hidden or below His understanding of me. The life of Jesus born human at Christmas is the most amazing gift God could have ever blessed me with because His gift of life is what has saved my life. His gift of life has made me realize the value of my life. His gift of life has allowed me to wait in anticipation for what He will do next, and to know with everything I am, that whatever He is planning, I can trust that it will occur in His perfect timing for me.

This Christmas and throughout this next year, I will wait with God in anticipation for what is ahead. Even though I know that the waiting time is sometimes difficult and at times, even painful, I also know the joy that comes with being near to God. Waiting with God in anticipation of the best things that lay beyond the challenging things... that is the meaning of Christmas!