Elfie and Home

At the cusp of this new year, I want to look back one last time and thank the Lord for Christmas. I think back a few weeks ago when I vented about Elfie, our "Elf on the Shelf." Elfie truly could be the bane of my existence during the Christmas season as I repeatedly forgot to move him, wrote cryptic notes like "Mv E" meaning "move elf" (hence indecipherable to my 10 year old--but then sadly to me as well since I couldn't remember what they meant), or suddenly gasped while walking the dog that I had forgotten yet again to move him. I complained to myself, why on earth have we added yet one more thing to keep up with on top of everything else during the busy season?

But on the last night Elfie would be with us until next year, he sent our child a pack of chicklets gum. And that night, as I prepared to put good old Elfie away, I noticed our son had placed two sticks of gum in Elfie's arms as a present for Elfie to take home. I got my daughter to take a picture of it as a tiny reminder of the wonder of Christmas and why the effort is worth it. I know that this is probably Elfie's last Christmas with a little one in our home who still believes that Santa is coming and that elves can come visit. That time is coming to a close, but, boy, it's been fun having young children in the home at Christmas. Even now, I think he believes because he wants to believe even while knowing it's not about jolly old Saint Nick or elves or presents. It's about the Savior coming, for in the words of Eugene Peterson's paraphrase of John 1, Jesus "came and moved into the neighborhood."

May we never ever get over the wonder of that. A Sovereign, Almighty God moved into our neighborhood out of His infinite love for us. He came and made His home with us. Isn't that one of the things we all love about Christmas--being home for Christmas? One of the most popular Christmas songs of all time is "I'll be Home for Christmas." And as our children grow up, we realize that the time is coming all too soon when they will not all be home for Christmas. They may be in far away places and can't come home or be married and have to go visit the in-laws (a concept I don't like even with no in-laws in the picture yet since I always want my children with us!)

But even the realization that they will not always be "home" with us makes the time with them that more precious. Ever notice how many of our favorite Christmas carols are sung in a minor key? O come O come Emmanuel, Lo how a Rose ere Blooming, etc. are all in minor keys. Why is that, I wonder, since Christmas is such an unbelievably joyous celebration? Perhaps, it's the reminder to us all that this is not our home. Christ came and made this His home so that one day we could go to our true Home with Him.

I couldn't help but think of one of my favorite songs "Blessings" by Laura Story. The words of the chorus are profound:

What if your blessings come through raindrops

What if your healing comes through tears

What if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You're near

And what if the trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise....

Then near the end of the song, she adds:

What if the greatest disappointments

Or the aching of this life

Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy

And what if the trials of this life

The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are Your mercies in disguise.

Isn't it so true? We so often ultimately see God's glory, His grace, His love as never before in our times of waiting, our times of disappointment, even our times of sorrow. Our children grow up and we treasure each moment with them far more now, because we know those moments will not last forever. My next door neighbor told me the other day that their 3 grown children had all been home for Christmas for 5 days. He said he had told his wife, "I don't think I've ever seen you happier." Because it happens rarely now, these parents truly knew the joy of having all their children home for Christmas.

Our home was wild and busy this Christmas. Lots of laundry, lots of mess, lots of cooking and cleaning, but I knew deep in my heart that it would not always be so. Someday Elfie would stay in the box. Someday I wouldn't have to stay up until all hours on Christmas Eve and get up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day. Someday I wouldn't have to clean up the kitchen 14 times a day. Someday the floor would stay clean and the counters uncluttered. And then I would remember these crazy Christmases with longing but also with gratitude and joy. And with the wonder of the privilege of celebrating the birth of my Savior with this imperfect, untidy, but beautiful blessing of a family.

Somehow, it awakes in me a longing and a gratitude for my true Home. For this is not my home. This is not your home. And the joy and wonder of Christmas reminds us every year that our Savior made it His home so we could make our home with Him forever. So thank You Lord Jesus for Christmas. Thank You for coming. Thank You that one day You will take us Home. But until then, thank You for the gift of celebrating Your coming with the friends and family we love so imperfectly but so dearly. To You, our True Home, be all the glory.

Sharing the Song of Salvation

Whew, we made it all the way to the 12th day of Christmas! (and only 2 days after Christmas is over--sort of reflective of my life!) "On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me 12 drummers drumming." I immediately thought of one of my favorite Christmas books (and movies) "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." The Grinch complained in agony about the Who's Christmas celebration: "...all the Who girls and boys would wake bright and early. They'd rush for their toys! And then! Oh the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!" Boy, wonder what he'd think about 12 drummers drumming?

Sure, drums are mighty loud, but isn't there just something joyful about the sound of drumming? It's hard not to start tapping your toes when you hear a talented drummer really going at it! (just maybe not in my house) And what a difference drums make to any song or orchestral piece. You might not really notice their part, since often it's just a part of the musical piece--and a background part at that. But take those drums away from the piece, and the music is clearly lacking something and loses much of it's power and effect.

In this song, the 12 drummers represent the band of believers--including each of us--who can and must sing the song of salvation to the world. Like the drummers, we all have a part to play and without each of us, something will be missing. What a song we have to share! How can we not share it with joy and gratitude to a desperate world?

Just think of the joy of all the music of Christmas--I'm ready to put on Christmas CD's at the beginning of October! And so often when I hear certain Christmas carols, they take me back to certain clear, precious memories from my past. Just the other day on Christmas Eve, I heard the carol "Lo How a Rose ere Blooming." I was immediately taken back to all the Christmas Eve nights where my family would gather around an old organ in our house, and my wonderful sister, Jane, would play all the old carols and we would all sing along. This carol was always one of our very favorites--and Jane always played this one particularly brilliantly, I must say! What a gift we have in Christmas music and how much it adds to our celebration of our Savior's birth.

Join the band to share the stupendous Good News of the Gospel! Again, Dr. Suess had it right. The part of Christmas the Grinch hated the most was the Who's Christmas song: "And THEN They'd do something he liked least of al! Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small, would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing. They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Who's would start singing!"

Certain he would stop Christmas by stealing every last visage of Christmas, the Grinch eagerly listened to hear the sound of the Who's weeping and moaning at their missing presents and food and decorations. "But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn't be so! But it was merry! Very! He stared down in Who-ville! The Grinch popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small, was singing! Without any presents at all! He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other it came just the same!"

O rats, I just have to keep going now! "'It came without ribbons! It came without tags! it came without packages, boxes or bags!' And he puzzled 3 hours, till his puzzler was sore, Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! 'Maybe Christmas,' he thought, 'doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas... perhaps...means a little bit more!'"

Aren't you glad?! Aren't you overwhelmed with gratitude that Christmas has nothing to do with creating the Martha Stewart meal or the Norman Rockwell home and memories or the most perfect gifts for family and friends? Because we all (well, at least me) fail at all that every single year! I have yet to come even remotely close to my ridiculous expectations for the marvelous, spiritual, organized, perfect Christmas that exists only in magazines and my mind.

It will NEVER happen. And that's okay, because we're not called to create the perfect Christmas. We're called to join the band and share the joyous song of salvation to a dark world desperate for the Truth. We're called to love others with the love of Christ. We're called to forgive and forbear in the grace of Christ. We're called to be fruitful for Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit. We're called to be joyous and grateful in sharing the song of salvation every single day of our lives.

So, Christmas is over. But the song never ends. And we have the joyous privilege of being a part of the band. So get singing. Get humming! Get drumming. Get into the band! "Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into His presence with singing!" (Ps.100:1-2) To our Savior, worthy of all our singing and sharing, be the glory.

Piping with the Pipers

"On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me 11 pipers piping." The question is, would we even be able to hear them above the constant din at our house around Christmas? Probably not, but I love music, so I say bring 'em on. I've always wanted my children to play a musical instrument and have failed miserably in this department, so maybe the pipers would rub off on them. Here's hoping anyway.

In the song, the 11 pipers symbolized Jesus' 11 faithful disciples, who courageously shared the Gospel with the world. 10 of the 11 gave their lives as martyrs. And the 11th, John, lived for many years in exile on the island of Patmos. I often think of these 11 and the transformation in each of them after the death and resurrection of Jesus (and the coming of the Holy Spirit). Doubting Thomas became devoted Thomas who remained faithful and fruitful to His Lord until His martyrdom. The mercurial Peter who denied His Lord right before His crucifixion became "The Rock" who testified boldly and consistently and powerfully until he was crucified upside down (because he said he was not worthy to be crucified in the same way as His Savior) All 11 were changed dramatically changed.

What an eternal difference these 11 men and their faithful witness have made for all of us! Thank the Lord for each of them--all so different and yet all so vital to the spreading of the Gospel. And what a reminder that God calls and uses all types of people, each with their unique gifts and weaknesses, to further His kingdom. None of us are perfect (boy, that's an understatement). None of our children are perfect. Yet even with our failings and inconsistencies, God calls us to look to Him by faith and trust that He can transform and redeem us and use us for His glory. He is not finished with us or our children or our loved ones yet.

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which clings so closely, and let us run with confidence the race that is set before us." Heb.12:1 I'm convinced that the 11 disciples are among that cloud of witnesses, cheering us on. They ran their race with faithfulness and endurance. Now it is our turn. Might we, too, prove faithful and courageous and bold in running our race on this earth all the way to the finish line. And that finish line is just up ahead. It's not far now, so keep running, keep piping along with those trustworthy pipers! To God be the glory.

The 10 Leaping Lords

"On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, 10 lords a leaping." It's early in the morning on Christmas Eve, and I have so much to do, I need some leaping lords at my beck and call. And they sure better be ready to do some leaping--to deliver presents, to start cooking for tomorrow, to finish up those inevitable folks I always forget, and, how about folding and putting away those 4 loads of laundry? Yes, we could use some leaping lords right about now in my house, and I'm hoping that between the lords and those 8 milk maids, we can get it all done by tomorrow morning! (and to my dear children--MAMA NEEDS SOME HELP RIGHT NOW!! ahhh, I feel much better.)

The lords at the time this song was written in England were judges. So the 10 lords symbolized the Ten Commandments given to Moses--and to all of us--to enable us to live righteously and blessedly. So often we want to see God's laws as things we can't do, as limitations on our freedom and our fun. But it is just the opposite! God knows that His ways will always bring us blessing and joy and peace. He gives us His laws out of His love for us, because He wants us to have the fullest, most abundant lives possible. Apart from His Word and His ways, I would be miserable and meandering in a fog of self-indulgence that would bring ever lessening pleasure and ever increasing pain. Imagine the world without God's moral law--the violence, the selfishness, the chaos, the hatred, the mayhem. Who could live in such a world?

So today, I thank the Lord for His Word and for His laws. And I thank and praise Him for sending Emmanuel who has enabled us to keep His law. I am certainly incapable in any way to obey. I have always loved the story Allen Redpath told of what God expects of you. "What does God expect of you?" Redpath asked. We would think, well, He expects holiness and obedience and kindness and love.... Redpath then answered his own question with "All God ever expects of you is failure." Well, shoot, I can do that! I can meet God's expectations--I've proved that over and over again! But then Redpath went on, "All God ever expects of you is failure. But He's given you His Holy Spirit that you need never fail."

Without Christmas, there is no Holy Spirit. There is no way to obey God's laws. There is no way to avoid failure. But because of Christmas, God came and ultimately sent us His Holy Spirit so that we can do in Him what we can never do on our own. Thank You Lord for Your perfect Word and Your Ten Commandments. But thank You especially for sending Jesus so that we need never fail in living the obedient, abundant, blessed lives You want for each of us. O thank You for coming! To God the Law Giver and Christ the Law Fulfiller be all the glory.

Dance to the Manger

"On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me 9 ladies dancing." Now that's what I'm talking about! I love to dance--even though my children all make fun of my less than stellar technique. But isn't that one of our jobs as moms--to embarrass our children?

With just a few days left before Christmas, I must confess that my dancing ways and attitude are suffering. I am more staggering, rather than dancing with joy, to the finish line of Christmas Day. Forgive me Lord! If ever there should be a time of unbridled joy for a believer, it is the days of Advent as we anticipate the celebration of our Savior's birth.

Help us, Lord, to rejoice with the shepherds as they heard the Angel's astounding announcement of the birth of Emmanuel. Help us to run with jubilation to the manger, rather than worry about our "sheep" and all we have to do in our fields. Help us to cast aside our to do list, our fear, our pride, our selfishness and kneel down and worship the Babe of Bethlehem. Help us to dance to the manger this Christmas.

Back to the 9 ladies dancing--they symbolized the fruit of the Holy Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. What a gift this fruit of the Spirit is for all who believe! Have we thanked Him? Are we walking (or, in this case, dancing) in the Spirit so that this fruit will be manifested in our lives? I'm so thankful I don't have to manufacture joy and peace and kindness and the like. I'd be a miserable failure if I did--the harder I try, the more I fail.

But praise God, He produces the fruit as we walk with Him. Galatians 5, which describes this fruit of the Spirit, repeatedly emphasizes walking by the Spirit. In 5:1, for instance, we're told "walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh." Or 5:25 "If we live by the Spirit, let us walk by the Spirit." We don't create the fruit any more than we create a sunrise or a blue heron or a majestic oak tree. Only God can create. But as we walk along, we can experience the beauty of His sky and His creatures and His creation. And as we walk, we discover in the wonder of His creation true joy and peace. He creates; we experience as we walk with Him.

At this glorious, but hectic, time of the year, might we walk--not run or rush--by the Spirit. Might we take the time today to go with the shepherds to worship at the manger of our newborn Savior. Might we take the time to meditate upon all that God has done for us in Christ and be like Mary who "treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart." (Lk.2:19) Might we, with the shepherds, be quick to glorify and praise God for all we have seen and heard this Christmas.

Who needs to hear it? Surely that exhausted store clerk or discouraged single parent or lonely senior or frantic friend... or maybe we just need to be reminded. At Christmas, He came. He is here now. He has given us His Holy Spirit. With His Spirit is fullness of joy and peace and patience and kindness... And He will never ever leave us or forsake us. So it's time to dance! Will you join the shepherds in dancing to the manger? To God be the glory.

8 Milk Maids

"On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me 8 maids a-milking." Where are those maids?! I need them NOW! Forget the milking, girls! Just start cleaning up and throwing out the clutter. That would be my husband's dream Christmas--8 people indiscriminately throwing out our clutter--with me unable to say "No! Stop! I think we might need that! Don't throw that away!"

But I digress (again). When this song was originally written, a woman who milked cows was considered to have the poorest and worst job in all of merry old England. The Lord Jesus, however, came to save the lowest of the low (and the highest of the high). His gift of salvation is freely available to anyone and everyone who believes, and no one can be too lowly or insignificant or sinful to enjoy His gift of abundant eternal life. He came even for the milk-maids... and the prostitutes and the death row inmates and the insane and the elderly lost in a fog of dementia. He came as a baby to poor, common, uneducated, working class teenagers. Born in the midst of the dirt and excrement of animals. None is too humble or lowly or undesirable for His redemptive love.

The 8 maids a-milking represent those who are blessed according to Jesus: those who are poor in spirit, those who are mourning, those who are meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are merciful, those who are pure in heart, those who are peacemakers, and those who are persecuted for righteousness sake. Those who are bent with care or worn out with sorrow or devoid of hope or frightened by the unknown future or lonely and bereaved. Those for whom life has brought them down low. They are the ones who can kneel humbly before the manger and find in it their Savior, their joyous Redeemer, their source of true blessedness.

I'm thinking right now of some friends who are being forced to wade through mighty deep waters. I cannot imagine their pain... O but my Savior can. He knows. He feels. He strengthens and blesses even in the darkest of days. In the words of Betsie ten Boom, while in a German concentration camp in World War II, "No pit is so deep that His love is not deeper still."

Deeper even than the pits of loneliness and betrayal and illness and death and despair. Deeper than the pits of our pride or selfishness or hatred. Deeper than the pit of a Roman cross on a windswept hill overlooking Jerusalem. His love is deeper still. Far far far deeper still.

So today, whatever your sorrows, your failures, your fears, your inadequacies, His grace and love and mercy are infinitely greater and better and more powerful. Might He who blesses the lowest and the weakest, put a song in your soul even if there is sorrow in your heart.

He is able. Boy, is He able! (Eph. 4:20-21) And His name is Jesus. To our Savior and Redeemer be all the glory.

The Brave Little Boy

"On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me 7 swans a-swimming." More birds. But I love birds, so I say, keep 'em coming! These 7 beautiful, graceful birds represent the 7 gifts of the Holy Spirit: prophecy, ministry, teaching, exhortation, giving, leading, and compassion. (contrary to my husband's assertion about his own gift--"strong opinions" are not actually a gift!).

I thank the Lord for giving us all gifts--and we do all have at least one of these gifts. What a reminder, however, that we are called simply to use to His glory whatever gift He has given us and NOT compare or complain that we don't have some different gift. We are so prone to grumble about what we don't have rather than be grateful for what we do have... and then act upon our gratitude by using that gift for our gracious God. So thank You Lord for all Your many gifts. Might we use them one and all to the glory of our Lord.

On an only tangentially related note, how I thank the Lord for the gift of music! My daughter just gave me a CD by a singer named Andrew Peterson, and he has a Christmas song that I just love called "Gather Round, Ye Children:"

Gather round, ye children, come

Listen to the old, old story

Of the power of death undone

By an infant born of glory

Son of God, son of man

Gather round, remember now

How creation held it's breath

How it let out a sigh

And it filled up the sky with angels

Son of God, son of man.

So sing out with joy for the brave little Boy

Who was God, but He made Himself nothing

Well, He gave up His pride and He came here to die

Like a man

Therefore God exalted Him

To the place of highest praises

And He gave Him a name above every name.

O might we sing out with joy this Christmas--and every day of our lives--for the "brave little Boy who was God but made Himself nothing" and "came here to die" so that we might live forever with Him. Isn't that our source of joy at the coming of Jesus? He came, not as a King or mighty conquerer or an intimidating Potentate but as a "little boy," as a tiny, vulnerable infant. Just incredible--God Almighty as a newborn. And He came not to dominate or destroy or defeat mankind but to die. To die that we might live. To die in order to dominate and destroy and defeat the powers of satan and sin and death.

Today, praise the One who came--praise our God who made Himself nothing in order to give us much. Join with the angels to adore Him. To the Brave Little Boy, the Almighty God, the Savior, be all the glory.

Our Creator Savior

"On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me 6 geese-a-laying." hmmm, I'm seeing a poultry pattern here. Fine by me, since chicken is our go-to meal. How many ways can you prepare boneless chicken breasts? You'd be surprised... the possibilities are nearly infinite.

But I digress--sort of reflective of my brain at this time of the year, I'm afraid.

The 6 eggs symbolize the 6 days of creation--the 6 days when the world was "hatched" by God. What a gift is God's creation, and what a clear reflection of our Lord's love of beauty and creativity and glory. I think He just loves to sometimes cause us to be overcome with wonder and amazement! How can you look at a sunrise and not be awed? How can you breathe in the verdant scent of the evergreen tree and not be thankful? How can you watch the hawk soar or hear the Canadian Geese calling or feel the cool breezes blowing and not be overwhelmed with the goodness and grace of our Creator? How can you glimpse the heavens and not declare with David, "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge?" Ps.19:1-2

Look around you today and rejoice at the extravagance of Your Almighty Creator. And then rejoice that Your Creator has come. He who made the heavens and the earth invaded His own creation in order to redeem those He had made... including you. Might you love and praise the One who made all and who came to save all. To our Creator-Savior be all the glory.

The 5th DAY

"On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, 5 golden rings." O boy, we come to the one verse we can always seem to remember. How many times have I soldiered through this song, kind of mumbling the words to the 9th, 8th, and 7th days that I can never quite recall, and then blasting out "5 gooooolden rings!"

Other that being a nice, slower respite in the middle of the song, the 5 golden rings also carries the significance of being an extremely precious commodity. Gold was, and is, very expensive and valuable. The number 5 symbolizes the first 5 books of the Bible, which are valuable and dear like gold. Again, we are encouraged to see the precious treasure we have in God's Word--both the Old and the New Testaments. God's very words breathed onto the pages of our Bibles we may hold in our hands and take into our hearts. Thank You Jesus for being our Word and for giving us Your Word.

You know, it's funny, as I have contemplated these 12 days of Christmas, I heard on a Christian radio program the story of a young mother who was diagnosed with brain cancer and died just a few weeks later. She was in perfect health, with 3 young children, and after complaining of a severe headache, went to the emergency room and learned she had an aggressive form of cancer and had only a short time to live. She lived exactly 17 days. I couldn't help but think about the value of each day. The 12 days of Christmas. The 17 days of a young mother's life.

We all have only a set, predetermined number of days to live on this earth. The question is not the number, but how will we live them? Will we live them to the glory of God so that each day becomes an eternal treasure? Or will we waste this day, frittering it away in anger or indifference or irritation or in some selfish pursuit of acquiring more "stuff" or gaining some short term pleasure or even in being busy busy busy but not fruitful. I am so prone to being a Martha and trying to get it all done (and then growing exasperated and discouraged because I never can) rather than being a Mary and resting in His love. If I would just daily choose to be a Mary first and rest in Him and His love then He would enable me to be a Martha and accomplish all that He has called me to do--and do it with joy and peace rather than frenzy and frustration.

Our days are infinitely more precious than gold. Each day is a gift from our Heavenly Father, and we don't have any idea how many He will give us. If you knew you had only 12 more or 17 more, what would you do differently? How would your attitude change? How would you enjoy and savor Christmas differently? Something tells me I would not be stressing out over whether I had remembered all the teacher's presents or worrying about what I am going to cook for all the many meals coming up next week or wasting time and energy on all the dumb stuff that can drain away my peace and joy.

I would be making much of my Savior... not making much of my to do list. I would be glorifying the One who came down so I could go up... not glorying in my accomplishments or my busyness. I would be savoring each moment with my loved ones... not surfing the web for one more present. I would be rejoicing in the birth of my Lord and worshipping my King... not working feverishly and worrying and wasting.

So right now, I could be getting those gifts ready to be delivered, cleaning up my house, or folding laundry. But instead, I am sitting in our living room, listening to joyous Christmas music, contemplating the wonders of Christmas and gazing at our colorful Christmas tree. A tree alight not just with the glow of the lights but with all the homemade ornaments from the children, old ornaments from my dear parents and aunt Janie and grandparents, and from my husband's sweet parents and from his childhood. And as I sit, I simply thank the gracious, glorious Savior who came and who has given us so many Christmases to savor and remember and worship the Babe at Bethlehem. I thank Him for my loved ones who came before and have gone on home to be with Him and are truly "home for Christmas." And I thank Him that He has given me one more day to love Him and love those He has placed in my life.

The 5th day of Christmas. How will you use this day He has given you? Might we use each day to glorify Him with all that we are and all that we have and all that we do and say. To God be the glory.

Four Calling Birds

On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me 4 calling birds." Another bird! What's the deal with that? I have no idea why the first 4 days are all birds, but I do know birds are remarkable creatures and incredible examples of God's wondrous creation.

The 4 calling birds symbolized the 4 Gospels--Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, as well as the entire story of Christ's life contained in each of the Gospels. What an amazing gift we have in God's Word. Might we never take it for granted. God's eternal, supernatural Word that has the power not just to guide us and teach us but also to change hearts and lives. I think of the countless numbers of brave men and women who gave their lives for God's Word and for the Gospel and am humbled and convicted by my sometime cavalier attitude towards the Bible. We have Bibles of every shape and size and translation at our house. But do we read the Word every day with as much eagerness and hunger as we do with our food and meals? Help us to hunger for You and Your Word, Lord, more than anything else that this world can offer us.

Pretty simple and basic, but then, that's what it's all about, and it starts with spending time in His Word. Chuck Swindoll once wrote: "To be used by God. Is there anything more encouraging more fulfilling? Perhaps not, but there is something more basic: to meet with God. To linger in His presence, to shut out the voice of the city and, in quietness, give Him the praise He deserves. Before we engage ourselves in His work, let's meet Him in His Word...in prayer...in worship."

The holidays are busy, I know, but we need to push aside the constant demands and expectations, and choose, daily, to spend time meeting with God in His Word. The 4 calling birds are calling you! Will you choose to meet the Author of the Universe today in His Word so He can teach and convict and encourage and empower and love you? He gave us the Word, and He is the Word. What could be more important today? To the eternal, powerful Word be all the glory.

The Hens--the Gifts

Okay, pretend like this is yesterday--for the 3rd day of Christmas! "On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me, 3 French hens." This is the kind of gift that would get some good use at our house, since we eat a LOT of chicken! At least they would not then add to the considerable clutter!

In the 16th century, French hens were very expensive food items that only the wealthiest homes could afford. Whenever French hens were served at a banquet, then it truly was a feast fit for a king. (Let's hear it for Chik-fil-a!) So in this song, the 3 French hens symbolized the costly gifts brought to the Baby Jesus by the Wise Men: the gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

We all know about gift giving at Christmas.... in fact, most of us are overwhelmed by the enormity of buying or making, wrapping, and delivering gift upon gift. We lose all perspective of the joy of THE Gift in our quest to be gift-givers. Forgive us Lord! Aren't you thankful that He knows our hearts and loves and cherishes us even in our frenzy and frustration as we try to give gifts to everyone we know and love except Him? I somehow think He looks and smiles upon us not with irruption but with delight despite our failings this time of year. He just wishes we could treasure His Gift with the joy and wonder and peace He longs to give us. But our failures do not diminish His love.

For some reason, as I was listening to Christmas carols this morning, the phrase "the wonder of His love" from the wonderful carol, "Joy to the World," really struck me. Wow, do we consider, truly contemplate the wonder of His love? His love, so wide and deep and high. His love that stretched out across the world with nail pierced hands to offer forgiveness and salvation to all who would believe. His love that came one silent night as God wrapped Himself in the flesh of a helpless infant. His love that never quits, never gives up or gives in, never leaves or forsakes, never diminishes, never weakens. His love that lavishes gift after gift after gift upon His children. Think of the gifts He has lovingly bestowed upon you today: the air you could breathe into your lungs, the sun that rose and warmed the earth, the birds that sang you a chorus, the family that surrounds you, the sweet memories of past blessings, the bliss of hot coffee or hot tea on a cool day, the comfort of friends, the laughter shared over something silly, the wagging tail of your dog, the deliciousness of food when you are hungry, the sound of joyous Christmas music, the wonder of Christmas lights that illuminate the darkness, the smell of pine needles.

One of our favorite Christmas books is a children's book by Eugene Peterson called The Christmas Troll. It's about a little boy and girl, named Andrew and Lindsay, who fuss with their parents, because they want to open their presents early. Their father tells them that "gifts are for giving and receiving, not for grabbing and getting. Waiting until morning will be good for you." In their anger, Andrew and Lindsay run away and encounter an ugly, frightening troll. After their initial fear, however, they discover that the troll is actually really sweet--"The troll is ugly--but nice." They laugh and bounce and have a big time with troll, and then it suddenly dawns on Andrew: "...the troll was a gift! Andrew hadn't expected a gift, he hadn't deserved it, yet he'd gotten it all the same--and it felt great!...He wanted to show everybody a gift, a real gift, a gift you can't wrap with paper and ribbons and put under a tree." His father had always told him that "Christmas is our time to remember that God gives gifts. That's what He does, give gifts--gifts everywhere, gifts here, gifts there, gifts from above, gifts from below, gifts seen, gifts unseen, and lots and lots and lots of gifts that don't look like gifts but turn out to be the best gifts of all."

Isn't that truly the essence of Christmas: God the Gift-Giver gives the ultimate Gift in the Lord Jesus? And our response should be overflowing joy and gratitude. We can't out-give Him. We can't pay Him back. We can't earn it or deserve it. We simply must receive it with grateful, obedient hearts. Hearts receptive and open at the continuous gifts of His grace and mercy and abundance.

"Their father told them again that the best gifts weren't the wrapped up ones under the tree and so it's wise to live life expectantly, alert to the surprises of God." O Father, help us to be alert to the joyous surprise gifts of our extravagant Lord! Thank You for Your myriad daily gifts that bless us and bring us such joy. And thank You most of all for the greatest Gift ever given throughout the ages: "For unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given: and the government shall be upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." (Is. 9:6)

Wondrous, Counselor, Mighty, Everlasting, Prince, Peace--our Gift, our Emmanuel. Might we never cease to wonder at His love--His extravagant gifts of love and His perfect, ultimate Gift of Love. Like the Wise men with their gifts, let us come and adore Him. To our Gift-Giver and Gift be all the glory.

Two Turtledoves

"On the 2nd day of Christmas my true love sent to me... 2 turtle doves." I was tempted to make a wisecrack about what a sorry gift giver this guy was, but actually, these two turtledoves symbolized the Old and New Testaments. God's gift to mankind was the Word--both the Word of the Lord Jesus but also His written Word, the Bible. And the more I have studied His Word, the more I have been struck that every verse whispers His name, from Genesis to Revelation. How thankful I am for His Word. We literally have God's words written down for us, and we can study them any time, day or night. How often we take this completely for granted. We can know the heart of the Lord of the universe. He is not some mysterious being that we can never comprehend. He is revealed in His Word, and He wants us to know Him and love Him in His Word.

I know it's a terribly busy time of the year (in fact, I'm writing this late at night because it has just been one of those days), but we need to take time to thank God for the gift of His Word. And the fact that at Christmas, we rejoice in the Word coming down and moving into our neighborhood. Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus. Thank You for coming... and for staying to live in our lives and in our hearts. To God be the glory.

The 12 Days of Christmas

In some old Christmas traditions, today is the first of the 12 days of Christmas. We all know this song and have probably sung it countless times--always forgetting around about the 7th day or so what the words are! But I love the fact that this song was written to tell the story of the Gospel and of God's faithfulness through the ages. Beginning in the 18th century, British Catholics were unable to practice their faith, for the Church of England was considered the only true and legal church. Catholics who practiced their faith would be prosecuted and severely punished, most often with execution.

Rather than abandon their faith, these 18th century Catholics went underground and studied their doctrine and held masses in secret. In order to secretly teach and pass down their faith to their children, the carol, "The 12 days of Christmas," was written and taught and became enormously popular. Few outside the Catholic faith had any idea that each stanza had a very specific theological meaning. How many of us have sung these verses thinking only of what strange gifts this clueless man was giving his "true love!" But instead, each verse should remind us of all God has done for us in Christ and in His Word.

Today, I will just touch on the first day--a partridge in a pear tree. The partridge is the Lord Jesus whom the Father sent us on Christmas day. The mother partridge was used to symbolize Jesus, because the partridge was the only English bird that would die to protect it's young. As Ace Collins explained, "The single partridge in a pear tree represented courage and devotion above what man ever showed on earth. A mother partridge lures enemies away from her defenseless chicks in order to protect them... Add to that image a pear that symbolized the cross, and, together, this first gift represented the ultimate gift given by the Babe born on Christmas Day."

Once again, I just have to ask, aren't you glad He came?! He was our perfect sacrifice, born on Christmas Day to one day die for all of our sins. How I thank Him for coming as the lowest of the low, growing and living from a baby to a man as the most perfect of all perfection, dying as the most wretched of the wretched, and rising to the newest, most glorious, most abundant eternal life. Might we ever keep in mind the image of the cross as we gaze in wonder at the cradle. Both are so miraculous and wonderful and glorious--it's the cross that saves, but it's the cradle that makes the cross possible. Thank You Lord for our perfect Partridge in a pear tree! Help us to live this day full of gratitude and joy as sinners who are forgiven and cleansed from sin by our Sacrificed Savior born on Christmas Day. To the One and Only Savior and Lord be all the glory.

The forgotten Elf

Christmas can be stressful on so many different levels! Right now, I am wondering why on earth I ever allowed myself to get sucked into the "Elf on the Shelf" mania. If you have children under the age of 13 you probably know what I'm talking about. If not, be thankful. Okay, okay, I know I am a major scrooge here, but that blasted little red elf just adds a new layer of stress in our home. In case you are ignorant of the elf, here's a crash course: the Elf on the Shelf comes with a little book (which we have, of course, lost). Each night the elf moves around to a different part of the house. This is because he travels back to the North Pole each night to report to Santa on your child's behavior. And then he returns to a different part of the house--again, creepily, to watch your behavior and report back. If I didn't know better, I'd say this sounds very big brotherish. Yeah, I know, that's not a word, but how about Orwellian?

Now, the normal, got-it-all-together family actually remembers to move the elf each night. But memory and consistency has never been our strong suit around here. We have the same problem with the Tooth Fairy. I wonder how many times we discovered the Tooth Fairy had actually left the money in the mail box--imagine that!--or we found it (with mama or daddy's help) under a pillow in the top bunk. That Tooth Fairy is a tricky one! At any rate, our elf seems to like to stay in one place for several days at a time. We have come up with a number of uninspired explanations for this, but I think he can still see everything that is going on--he better not report back on how many pieces of chocolate cake I eat each week.

We also forgot our Elf's name. I know that is terrible. But what can I say. I once heard my wonderful Daddy quote Bonhoeffer when he forgot a name at a function he was attending: "The ability to forget is an act of grace." Amen! Our youngest child wrote the elf a sweet little note, and, among other things, asked the elf what his name was since he had forgotten. O my stars! Fortunately, since everyone had apparently forgotten, we "remembered" that his name was "Elfie." I figured that was a name I could remember.

So, I'll try to remember his name... and remember to move Elfie around the house (though, let's face it, I'll forget). But all this remembering and forgetting and keeping up, well, it makes me so thankful for the Lord Jesus. He never forgets. Never grows irritated. Never misses, never misplaces. His power is made perfect in my weakness. And boy, I have plenty of weakness, so there's a lot of room for His strength! Most of all, I thank Him for coming. I guess I will just never get over the wonder of God becoming man. Maybe it would be a little bit like man becoming an "elf on a shelf." That big of a leap--well, bigger actually. He came down and became man that we might one day go up and be with Him in heaven forever. He gave up the glories of heaven that we might gain the glories of abundant eternal life. And He would have done it all just for you. And He will never ever forget Your name.

Thank You Lord Jesus for coming. Happy Birthday! Help us never to forget You in the midst of all the hoopla associated with Your birthday celebration--because it truly is all about You. Might we be all about You as well. To our Savior be all the glory.

The defeat of Fear and Sorrow at Christmas

I have been so challenged the last few days thinking about the similarities between the state of the world at the time of Jesus' birth and our own today. As I contemplated this, I was trying to write our annual Christmas letter and wrote about this. But (after much prodding by my husband!) I ultimately rewrote the letter and didn't include any of this. So, I just figured I'd put it in here! Here it is:

What a year this has been. Record unemployment, seemingly impregnable businesses collapsing, safe investments evaporating. Political discourse full of vitriol and divisiveness and nations across the world experiencing turmoil and revolution. Add to all that the personal tragedies and challenges many of us have faced of illness, accident, loss. Uncertainty, confusion, fear, sorrow threaten us individually and nationally, and many wonder, where is God in all this?

A little over 2000 years ago, the Israelites, oppressed and occupied by the mighty Roman empire, might have wondered the same thing. 50% of the population were slaves. The other half of the population paid over half of their meager income in taxes to the hated Roman government. The frequent rebellions and uprisings were ruthlessly squashed by the Romans with mass public executions. And surely, most painful and perplexing of all, God had not spoken to His chosen people through a prophet in over 400 years. 400 years of silence and wondering whether perhaps God had abandoned and rejected His beleaguered people. Fear and sorrow. Are those not our enemies as well?

Yet in the midst of so much fearful uncertainty and sorrow, in a time much like our own, God came. On that silent night so many centuries ago, an angel’s glorious announcement split the star-strewn skies over the hills of Bethlehem. The stunned and frightened shepherds cowered as the angel declared, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Lk 2:10-11) Did you catch it? The first words from the angel--”Fear not” and “good news of great joy”--were words addressing and conquering their greatest foes, and ours, of fear and sorrow.

The Lord has not abandoned us! His silences, even in the midst of our fears and sorrows, do not mean He is not on the move: preparing, redeeming, transforming. That first Christmas, in the darkness and despair, He did not send advice or reinforcements or positive affirmation. No, He came Himself: the Sovereign Lord enclosed in the tiny body of a helpless infant. An infant-Lord born to one die and redeem the world He had created.

Because He is God, there is absolutely nothing He cannot see or know or do. He can heal the most damaged relationships, redeem the most hopeless circumstances, save the most hardened hearts. But because He is man, there is nothing He cannot fully understand and sympathize with, and, thereby encourage and strengthen. He knows what it is to suffer loss, to bear insults, to feel pain, to feel exhaustion and deep sorrow. The Omnipotent One also fully knows and bears with us and for us.

As the words to one of our favorite Christmas carols put it: “O come, Thou Dayspring, come, and cheer our spirits by Thine Advent here; dispense the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!” Just as Emmanuel came to Israel in the fear and sorrow of her oppression and darkness, so, too He comes to us, dispensing “death’s dark shadows.” How can we not rejoice if He has come and is right here with us, even in the uncertain and challenging times in which we live. Don’t be afraid--the Savior has come! Rejoice--Emmanuel is with you. Might we all rejoice this Christmas that He is with us and for us, no matter what we may be facing.

The Savior with a Skin-face

Happy december 5th! What on earth happened to the last 4 days?! I had planned to write on here every day but fell off the wagon into the quagmire of Christmas frenetic busyness! Thank goodness we serve a God of grace and He stills loves me even when I get so preoccupied with decorating and preparing for His birthday celebration that I forget to celebrate the birthday Savior Himself! Forgive me Lord.

We've just finished studying Heb. 10 in my Bible study--what a wonderful chapter! You know, though, I've discovered any chapter you really delve into and study and think about becomes a wonderful chapter that can change your life. I've shared with some friends one of the things that really blessed me from this chapter, and I thought I would include it here since it relates to Christ's coming. It's funny, but God sneaks in His incarnation in all sorts of unexpected places! Every verse of His Word truly does whisper Jesus' name.

But this was from a little phrase in Heb. 10:13. Here's what I wrote: After Jesus offered His perfect sacrifice [Himself--for our sins] for all time and sat down at God’s right hand, v.13 tells us that Jesus is now “waiting from that time until His enemies should be made a footstool for His feet.” I love that on so many levels! Did you know that in the OT, David referred to the Ark of the Covenant as “the footstool of God?” He declared that “I wanted to build a resting place for the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord, for the footstool of our Lord.” In ancient times, monarchs sitting on thrones always had footstools. When I got curious and starting researching “footstools” I found an article by a Rabbi that raised the rhetorical question: if David referred to God’s throne room and His footstool in the temple, where is His throne? The Rabbi concluded that there is no throne because God is invisible.

But when I read that I nearly jumped out of my seat! Yes, God is invisible, but Jesus isn’t! He has a body, I shouted, to my computer! Our Savior is omnipotent God but He also has a body--just like us! He has feet that walked and bled and rest on footstools. He has arms that hug and comfort. He has eyes that see everything and weep with compassion and light up with joy when He looks at you. He has a mouth that laughs and eats and speaks words of conviction and judgment but also of encouragement and blessing.

A young child woke late one night crying, frightened of the darkness. Her mother came in and hugged her and gently reminded her, “Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of--Jesus is right here with you every single second.” The little girl tearfully answered, “yes, Mommy, but I need somebody with a skin-face.”

Our Savior has a SKIN FACE and He fully understands and feels and sees and knows all that we are going through. Yet He is also Almighty Sovereign God and saves to the uttermost and there is absolutely nothing that He cannot do.

With His infinite power, He will one day place all His enemies under His feet. Think of all those kings and dictators; think of satan and all his minions. Every single one of them will be footstools under the pierced feet of our Savior. And did you know that your enemies are His enemies? Our enemies of sin and doubt and discouragement and death will all be defeated and subjected to Him. I’ve read the end of the Book, and HE WINS, and if He wins, we know we will win in the end, too!

Hope this makes sense if you aren't in our Hebrews Bible study! But aren't you thankful we have a Savior who is the infinite, omnipotent Lord and yet also has a skin face and body just like ours so He fully understands and sympathizes and knows exactly what we most need? Just another reason to praise the One who came. May we never tire of finding reasons to rejoice in Him. To the Savior with a skin-face, be all the glory.

Our Christmas Crosses

Happy December 1st! Happy birthday, Lord Jesus! What a joy, what a privilege it is to celebrate His birth every year. How I need it-- how we all need it! We tend to get so preoccupied and overwhelmed with all we have to do that we (okay, I) forget the incredible wonder, the sheer joyousness, the pure excitement of rejoicing in His Coming... and coming as a baby! Who would have thought of such a plan? Only God!

I woke this morning to discover that my wreaths from Young Life had been delivered to my front doorstep. Now, these are special wreaths--first of all, they were made somewhere in the mountains and have a wonderful wild, overflowing lushness to them. Sort of hard to explain, but take my word for it. Secondly, they are BIG--way bigger than I had anticipated! And third, they are crosses.

Christmas crosses. How I need that reminder every time I drive up to my house after rushing about picking up carpools or buying groceries: it's all about Jesus, His joyous birth at Bethlehem and His saving sacrifice at Calvary. It's about Christmas and the Almighty, all Sovereign, all powerful, all knowing, all holy Lord of the universe entering time and space to come down to this little planet spinning in His far flung heavens. Christmas, when the glorious, ineffable Creator and Sustainer of every living person and creature on this earth, determined to lay aside His infinite glory and honor to become a helpless infant in a obscure nation, in a dirty stable, surrounded by smelly animals. What an inscrutable wonder!

But it's not just about Christmas... it's all about the Cross. The baby born to die. I have always loved the words from Bejamin Britten's Ceremony of Carols: "This little babe, so few days old, has come to rifle satan's fold. All hell doth at, His presence quake, though He Himself for cold do shake. For in this weak unarmed wise, the gates of hell He will surprise." For satan and sin and death and hell, this little baby's entrance into the world marked the beginning of the end. Their doom was sealed, for one day, this Lord surrounded by infant's flesh would go to a cross to die for our sins. All sin--past, present, and future--crucified on His cross, our cross. O thank You Lord Jesus for every drop of blood that flowed that should have been mine. That blood that washed away the power of sin and death.

O what a joyful beginning that we celebrate at Christmas. But what a miraculous, perfect, glorious ending--the Cross and the resurrection--that saved us... and so we worship. The Christmas Cross--celebrate and worship with a heart overflowing with gratitude and joy.

But I have to add one more thing: when I went to look at my crosses this morning, I immediately worried that while their size would be great for the front door, it would be far too large for our back kitchen door (the one we always use, frankly). I carried it back and put it on the small kitchen door, and it literally covered the whole window in the top half of the door. In fact, I had a hard time even shutting the door because of the cross' size. I pondered this a while, wondering how I was going to make this work.

And then it hit me--does that reflect me as a believer? Do I simply reflect all the outward trappings and profession of a believer--got that nice big cross on the front door of my life. He is a big part of my life. But is He all? What about the back door of my life? What about my thoughts of selfishness or pride? My lack of love, my refusal to obey Him in all things, my tendency to seek my will and not His, my desire for glory or comfort? All those things that others may not see, but God does. How about even at Christmas--my desire to purchase all the presents, send out the cards, take care of me and mine, but failing to truly love those He died to save or failing to daily keep Him and His Christmas cross at the center of my thoughts and heart every single day during Christmas? How am I diminishing the greatness of the cross?

Forgive me Lord Jesus. Your Christmas cross needs to be just as large and great and glorious at the back door of my life as at the front. Just as prominent in my thoughts and attitudes as in my words and activities.

It truly is all about the cross. So this Christmas, if you come by my house and can barely get the back door open, rejoice with me at the BIG beautiful Christmas cross! At the front door and the back... the beginning and the end... the start of our days till our very last breath. Happy birthday Lord Jesus. And thank You thank You thank You for the cross. Might it always be gigantic, great, and glorious in our lives. To our Savior be all the glory.

Lord do it again!

Happy Thanksgiving! Today, as I wake up in my warm home, heat up hot water for tea, and turn on the lights in order to read and write, I give thanks to God. I think now of those pilgrims so long ago who woke on ships rocking in the frigid november waters off the coast in New England--no heat, no electricity, no hot food, no plumbing, no hot showers--and I give thanks for their faithful perseverance. I give thanks to God that my family sleeps in warm, comfortable beds enjoying good health as I think of those pilgrims burying their children and mothers and fathers during that first brutal winter in 1620. Yet they somehow gave thanks in the midst of starvation and sickness and death and uncertainty. How must it have felt to have buried over half of their small number as they clung to survival that first winter? Yet they kept trusting, kept working, kept thanking even in the midst of such insurmountable obstacles and sorrow.

And I think of our nation over 200 years later as she struggled to survive the horrors of Civil War. I just reread Abraham Lincoln's 1863 Thanksgiving Proclamation and am awed and humbled at such grace, such gratitude in the face of such tragedy. I cannot imagine the weight of worry and sadness and uncertainty, the weight of dealing with a horrific war and the most bitter of divisions that ripped apart families and friends in rancor and hatred, all upon this one, sensitive, truly great man. Yet listen to his opening words in this Proclamation:

"The year that is drawing towards its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they came, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequalled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to promote their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict..." He goes on to list a number of blessings that even in the midst of war remain unabated from the "plough" to the "shuttle" to "ships" to the increasing population. "No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy." Lincoln therefore urges all Americans to "set apart and observe the last thursday in November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have becomes widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and reverently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility, and Union."

O Lord, do it again! Heal this nation's wounds. Restore us to peace and harmony and tranquility. How we lack that right now. There is so much division. So much rancor and ugliness and hate. I've never seen such seemingly impossible extremes. And just like the Civil War, both sides are utterly convinced in the rightness of their cause and the wrongness of the other side's. How on earth can there be healing and restoration? But what a call this is to prayer! If the Lord, in His grace and mercy, could heal this nation after the Civil War, He can do it again. Might we, like Lincoln, pray to the Lord Most High for His miraculous healing and reconciliation for this still great nation.

How can we not be moved by Lincoln's expression of thanksgiving in the midst of so much sorrow? I had to ask forgiveness for my own pettiness and often ungrateful heart. Truly giving thanks has nothing to do with our circumstances or our feelings. Gratitude must come from a heart that constantly seeks to rejoice in who God is and what He is doing. It is choosing to focus upon what we have rather than what we lack. Upon what remains rather than upon what is lost. And of trusting that even when we cannot discern the hand of God, that He is nonetheless at work and working all things out for our greater good and His greater glory.

So this day, might we thank the Lord for the bountiful blessings He has graciously bestowed in each of our lives. For our freedom, for our families, for our friends, for our faith, for our food and the provision for all our basic needs. And thank Him that He is not finished with us or with our nation yet. Might we pray for His healing and restoration in our nation and in our lives. In the words of Habakkuk 3:2 "Lord, I stand in awe of Your fame, I stand in awe of Your deeds, O Lord. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy." O Lord, in Your grace, do it again. And to God be the glory.

Positive Pleasures, part 2

Today I am thankful for great literature and for the ability to read. I shudder to think where I would be today without the influence of great writers such as C.S. Lewis or Charles Dickens or William Shakespeare or Phillip Yancey. As I started making a list of my favorite writers, I recognized the futility of such an endeavor--there are so many! And I am thankful for them all! And, of course, God's greatest and wisest and most powerful of all books, the Bible. Honestly, there is just nothing much better in life than curling up at night with a great book--well, except maybe sitting down on the porch in the mountains, listening to the wind in the trees and the songs of the birds, reading a great book... or sitting in the warm sun with the waves pounding in the background reading a great book or soaking in a steaming hot bath late at night reading a great book. Okay, I'd probably be happy sitting in a dentist's office waiting for a root canal if I were reading a great book. Sadly, life seems to afford far too little time to read good books, but I snatch those moments whenever I can.

In his marvelous book, The Screwtape Letters, (which, by the way, if you have not read, is a must read!) C. S. Lewis has a fictional senior devil instructing a junior devil in how to tempt and seduce a human he has been assigned to that is growing too close to the "Enemy" (i.e. God). The junior devil, Wormwood, has to report to the senior devil, Screwtape, that he has lost the man to the Enemy. Screwtape scolds him and explains why he has "let the man slip through your fingers." The first of his blunders was in allowing "the patient to read a book he really enjoyed, because he enjoyed it and not in order to make clever remarks about it to his new friends. In the second place, you allowed him to walk down to the old mill and have tea there--a walk through country he really likes, and taken alone. In other words, you allowed him two real positive Pleasures. Were you so ignorant as to not see the danger of this?... But you were trying to damn your patient by the World, that is by palming off vanity, bustle, irony, and expensive tedium as pleasures. How can you have failed to see that a real pleasure was the last thing you ought to have let him meet? Didn't you foresee that it would just kill by contrast all the trumpery which you have been so laboriously teaching him to value? And that the sort of pleasure which the book and the walk gave him was the most dangerous of all? That it would peel off from his sensibility the kind of crust you have been forming on it, and make him feel that he was coming home, recovering himself?"

Don't you know just what he is talking about (in the positive sense, that is!)? Listening to a majestic piece of music or taking a walk and seeing the trees dressed in oranges and reds, or reading a moving piece of literature... all of it transporting you for just a moment and seeming to give you the faintest whisper of heaven? A touch of true and deep and lasting beauty and wonder that for just a moment takes your breath away. Such is a moment of true pleasure, and I believe, just the tiniest taste of heaven and of all our Lord has in store for us. Glories unending and unimaginable.

So thank You Lord for such pure and simple and good pleasures--reading, walking, hugging a child, stroking a dog, singing. They are each a pale reflection of You, the Giver, the Creator, the Sustainer, the Redeemer, the Savior. And to You be the glory.

True Pleasures

As Moses and I walked early this morning, I listened to Ravi Zacharias on my iPod. He was discussing the topic of pleasure, and it was wonderful. He gave 3 principles for what would be legitimate or godly and good pleasures: (1) Anything that refreshes without distracting from, diminishing or destroying your ultimate goal is a legitimate pleasure. (2) Any pleasure that jeopardizes the sacred right of another is an illicit pleasure. (3) Any pleasure, however good, if not kept in balance, will distort reality and destroy appetite for God, is an illicit pleasure.

What a reminder that God is the Giver of all good gifts--of all pleasures. He is the One who gave us not just day and night but flaming sunsets and brilliant pink sunrises. He is the Creator of Blue Herons (and I saw our Blue Heron buddy today in the creek!) and Bengal Tigers and towering majestic mountains and peaceful ocean waves. He is the One who gave us ears to hear music and our loved ones' voices and who gave us eyes to see the beauty of the earth and of paintings and sculptures. He is the One who gave man the ability to create and to produce moving books and movies and music and poetry. He is the Author and Giver of all true and good pleasures, and He made these pleasures because He loves His children. But the question is, will we keep those pleasures in balance? Will we enjoy those legitimate pleasures that bring joy and peace and contentment or will we allow sin to infect and destroy that which God gave as good?

A couple more principles about how pleasures work: a) All pleasure must be bought at the price of pain. For true pleasures, the price is paid before you enjoy the pleasure. For illicit pleasure, the price of pain is paid after you enjoy it. And I might add, the price is always far far worse than anything you could have imagined, and the pleasure always far less than you imagined. b) Meaninglessness does not come from being weary of pain but from being weary of pleasures (the wrong kind of pleasures)--this is from G.K. Chesteron. c) The closer you get to pure pleasure, the closer you get to the heart of God. The closer you move to illicit pleasure the farther you get from God.

How true this is! There is just nothing like taking an early morning walk with my sweet old lab early in the morning, listening to God's Word on my iPod, and watching the sky slowly start to lighten and the world to awaken from it's evening slumber. The peacefulness of the predawn hours, the serene beauty of the animals we see from deer to Blue Herons to foxes, the joy of moving and listening while feeling the crisp air--truly a pure pleasure that is a gift from my extravagant God. I am always reminded of one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies, "Chariots of Fire." Eric Liddell is talking with his sister who cannot understand why he will not give up this silly, trivial dream of running in the Olympics in favor of coming right then to the Mission field. He explains to her, "God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure."

God did indeed make Liddell for a purpose, and part of that purpose was to run for His glory and win a gold medal in the 1924 Olympics shortly before heading off to the mission field in China. I cannot imagine how many countless people have been impacted by his life--and his pleasure in running--and I count myself as one of them. God used that legitimate pleasure both to bring Liddell great joy and to bring great glory to the Lord.

More on this tomorrow, God willing, but for now, thank You Lord for the pleasures of walking and listening and seeing. Thank You Lord for the pleasures of stroking a sweet old dog and laughing with our children and chatting with my sister on the phone. Thank You for the joys of church and worship with dear friends and the freedom to still do so in this nation. Thank You Lord that most pure and wonderful pleasures are free and simple and so readily available that we often take them for granted (until they are gone). Help us not to miss those good, gracious gifts that You have so freely bestowed upon Your children, simply out of Your boundless love and to bring us joy. To God be the glory.

Sing the 46th!

"Philip, let us sing Psalm 46!"

These are the words Martin Luther would often say to his colleague, Philip Melancthon, during the sometimes very dark days of the Reformation. When Melancthon or Luther were downcast, they would belt out the great "battle hymn of the Reformation"-- "A Mighty Fortress is our God" written by Luther during a particularly tragic time of loss and struggle in his life. The hymn is based upon the words of Psalm 46.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, thought the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though the waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God., the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved. God will help her when morning dawns. The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; He utters His voice, the earth melts. the Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Come behold the works of the Lord, how He has brought desolations on the earth. He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; He breaks the bow and shatters the spear; He burns the chariots with fire. 'Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted in the earth!' The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress." Ps.46

Today I thank the Lord that He is our refuge and strength and very present help in trouble. No matter how crazy our world becomes, no matter how hectic our schedules and to do lists, no matter how hard and challenging our circumstances, no matter how seemingly insurmountable our obstacles, He is our refuge and fortress and "The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress." It's not all about me and my puny efforts. It's all about Him. It's not about what I can do. It's about what He can and will do through His Holy Spirit. O how I thank Him that it's not all up to me! Because I can't do it--but He is able!

I have always loved the story of Charlton Heston in the movie, "Ben Hur." His director, the great Cecil B. Demille, wanted Heston to actually drive the chariot in the movie's climatic chariot race. Needless to say, folks nowadays don't have much practice in 1st century chariot racing (though my children probably think I might have been around that far back), so Heston struggled for several arduous weeks learning how to drive a chariot. After much hard work, Heston finally came to the director and worriedly confided to him, "Well, I think I can drive the chariot, but I don't know if I can win the race." Demille's answer? "O, you just drive the chariot. I'll make sure you win in the end."

Lord, somedays we're not even sure we can drive this chariot of life. We falter and faint and sometimes fail. But You have promised that if we'll just keep driving, You will make sure we win in the end. If we need proof, all we need to do is look to Calvary, where you defeated the powers of sin and death, and to the empty tomb, where You rose to new, glorious, eternal, resurrection life. And so, too, one day will we. You are our refuge and fortress, and You will never ever leave us. "Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised." Heb. 10:35-36 The best is yet to come. Heaven is coming, and it will be glorious! Don't give in or give up--Just keep driving and He'll enable you to win the race.

And while you're at it, why don't you belt out a couple of stanzas of "A Mighty Fortress is our God?" Sing the 46th and watch the devil flee! To God, our refuge, our strength, our mighty fortress who enables us to win in the end, be all the glory.

Beat up, not beaten

The other night I watched the remarkable interview with Gabby Giffords--the young congresswoman from Arizona who was shot in the head about 10 months ago. Diane Sawyer spoke with Giffords and her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly, about her miraculous recovery from an injury to her brain that is fatal 90% of the time and in nearly all other cases would leave the person with virtually no ability to speak, move, etc. Yet, what a fighter she has been, with her husband by her side, in recovering the ability to walk, albeit slowly and with great difficulty, sing, and speak through the tireless efforts of therapists. Her speech is halting and oftentimes in single words or very short sentences, but she understands and clearly communicates. What a battle--and a long term at that--which requires her to relearn everything with a brain that has suffered severe damage.

I couldn't help but think of how much she has lost: A rewarding and powerful job. Her athletic ability (and she was apparently very active and enjoyed sports). Her powers of speech and intellect--while she still has them, they are diminished to some extent. Her freedom of movement--of being able to drive a car and go where she wants to go when she wants to go. Perhaps the opportunity to bear a child (she and her husband were about to undergo in vitro just before the shooting). Her freedom from fear. Her time (which is now largely devoted to therapy and just trying to recover those abilities that we all take for granted). So much lost--at least in the short term.

And yet in watching her, you sense that she is focused hard not upon what has been lost but upon what can be regained and upon what remains. Her husband. Her family. Her fighting spirit. Her life. One particular exchange really stuck with me. Her husband, Mark Kelly, spoke of rushing to the hospital when she was apparently really having a very hard time and experiencing real despair at what she was facing. When he arrived, she wept, "I'm beaten. I'm beaten." And with such wisdom, tenderness, and yet strength, he told her, "No, not beaten. Beat up, but not beaten. You may be beat up but you're not beaten."

How I have thought of that the past few days. Aren't we all beat up in some way? Beat up by struggles with children or lost jobs or poor health or ill loved ones or our own sinful habits we can't seem to break. Beat up by discouragement or fear or failure.

But as believers, we may be beat up, but we're not beaten. His promises still stand throughout eternity. His power remains unabated and undiminished. His love is forever deeper than the oceans and wider than the breadth of the universe. His infinite amazing grace still covers us all at our very worst. We may be beat up, but with Christ we are never ever beaten. "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful." Heb. 10:23 He is faithful. Even at our most faithless, He is still and forever more faithful.

So today, I thank Him who is faithful. I thank Him for His promises that will stand firm for all of eternity. I thank Him that it's not about our strength or goodness or perfection or power. It's all about His. It's all about Him. And He will ever be faithful. He may have been beat up for us at the cross, but, boy, He was not beaten! He beat the power of sin and death for all eternity so that we need never ever be beaten. So to our glorious sin-beater, be all the glory.

The Voice of Truth

Sometimes it is tough work being a parent. hmmm... Scratch the "sometimes." And it is pretty challenging growing older, with more aches and pains and exhaustion (not to mention the wrinkles and reading glasses). And watching people you love suffer or experiencing financial turmoil or losing a loved one--life can just be downright hard sometimes.

Oftentimes, the things that get me down are the everyday wear and tear of disorganized and ungrateful teenagers and household clutter that I never seem to have time to deal with and overwhelming to do lists. And then, of course, there is the awareness of my sin and selfishness. All these conspire to cause me to grow discouraged and feel defeated.

This morning as I was driving to Bible study, I felt such heaviness and discouragement. I was preoccupied with all my failings. And then, the Lord thankfully broke through my self-centered fog and reminded me Who was on the throne and Who must be the center of my focus and my praise. I just started to thank Him for His grace and mercy and love. I thanked Him for blessings small and large--for all that came to mind. The song "The Voice of Truth" came immediately to mind--the enemy might be telling us we are terrible parents or inadequate spouses or poor cooks or awful organizers or lousy this that and the other--"But the Voice of Truth tells me a different story. The Voice of Truth says do not be afraid. This Voice of Truth says this is for God's glory. Out of all the voices calling out to me, I will listen and believe the Voice of Truth."

God's Voice of Truth tells us we are loved so infinitely much that He sent His only Son to come and die for each one of us. The Voice of Truth tells us that we can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens us. The Voice of Truth tells us that HE IS ABLE to do immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine. The Voice of Truth tells us that He is good and great and loving and kind and merciful and gracious, and He is for us and in us and with us. And the Voice of Truth promises us that He who is in complete and absolute control will do all things for our ultimate good and His glory, and someday He will come and take us all home to be with Him forever.

So today, I am thanking God for who He is, what He has done, and for the Truth that sets us free. Might we listen to His voice today, the Voice of Truth, and not the voices of despair and fear, so that we can live this day, this good day, with joy and gratitude and peace, secure eternally in Him. To God be the glory.

Walk the Plant!

The other day, my 10 year old was working on a homework project on pirates. He was supposed to create a "Wanted" poster for an imaginary pirate, and he had to draw the pirate, explain why the pirate was wanted, give the pirate's description, and indicate the reward for the pirate's capture. He named his fierce looking pirate "Blue Beard"--he had a carolina-blue long mustache made of yarn and a lopsided eye patch. He was one intimidating pirate!

I had to be gone the night before the project was due, so I asked my husband just to make sure our son finished the poster and got it ready to take to school the next morning. Well, I will refrain from making any editorial comments on husbands helping with homework, but while my son completed the poster, I found a couple of "minor" spelling errors. Here was my favorite: in describing Blue Beard's wretched crimes, my son had written in bold letters, "Captured 4 British ships and made the crews walk the plant!" O NO, that is horrible: the dreaded "Walk the plant!"

Can't you just see it? Blue Beard strutting onto those ships, facing the quaking crews, and with a surly snarl, "Okay, you squabs! No mercy here--time to walk the plant!" And then the bewildered crews look at each other, shrug, and go pick up some straggly green plants and start walking around the deck with them. Pretty horrific stuff, eh? Well, after a little chuckle with my son, he replaced that "t" with a "k," and we were back in pirate business--now those crews would be facing much tougher odds--they would be walking the plank off into the depths of the ocean rather than walking the plants around the decks of their ships.

What a difference one little letter made in a word! Boy, I'll bet those pirates would much prefer walking the plant with a "t" rather than walking the plank with a "k." I couldn't help but be reminded of one of my very favorite hymns: "A Mighty Fortress is our God" by Martin Luther. In case anyone is reading this, I want that sung at my funeral! Okay, a bit off the point, sorry. But I love the 3rd and 4th stanzas:

And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us, We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us;

The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him; His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure, One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly pow’rs, no thanks to them, abideth; The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth; Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also; The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still, His kingdom is forever.

"One little word shall fell him." I'm not absolutely positive what that specific word is--it could be "Jesus" or "Faith" or "Calvary." But to me it must refer to the Lord Jesus. The Son has defeated the powers of sin and death forever. Praise His name! One little word has made, quite literally, all the difference. I thought about what an enormous difference one letter can make: "sin" or "Son." Our human condition that dooms us for eternity: sin"--but change the "i" to an "o" and the solution that saves us for eternity: "Son." Gone is the penalty of shame, guilt, condemnation, despair, and hell. Instead, the Lord Jesus gives us abundant life, hope, joy, peace, love, forgiveness, grace, mercy, and heaven. What a difference! Kind of makes those pirates' vastly different fates of walking the plant rather than walking the plank, pale in comparison, doesn't it?!

So today, thank You Lord for changing absolutely everything with the sacrifice of Your "Son" for our "sin." One little letter makes all the difference. To God, to the glorious, righteous, wonderful Son, be all the glory!

Eyelid oil glands

Are you aware that we all have microscopic oil glands in our eyelids? They apparently lubricate the eye and have something to do with making tears as well (I was curious and looked it up and stopped reading when it started making me feel dumb since it was so far beyond me!) That is just one tiny little, seemingly insignificant, eyelid. I bet you haven't thought much lately, "Wonder how my eye lids are doing? I sure hope that sebaceous gland is operating at peak capacity today." Nope, we just completely take for granted that our awesome Creator made our amazing bodies and that our lungs will breathe in air and our liver will clean and detoxify and our throats will swallow and our fingers will grip and our eyelids will blink and on and on.

I no longer take the oil glands in my eyelids for granted. I woke up today and began to take on the distinct appearance of a prize fighter--on the losing end of the fight. My left eye began to get redder and redder and puffier and puffier and more and more tender. Not only lovely to look at, but uncomfortable as well! I had to laugh. Since determining to be thankful daily and not complain, the Lord has allowed me the joys of a bad back (and hence, no exercise--a real trial for me since I can turn into the wicked witch of the north when I can't exercise), a grumbly stomach, and now, it turns out, a plugged up eyelid oil gland. What's next: an ingrown toe nail and a tooth ache requiring a root canal? I've noticed that choosing gratitude is a whale of a lot easier when everything is going your way! But throw in a sick child or a lost job or a migraine headache and praising and thanking God becomes more of a challenge... but also more of an opportunity to bring God glory.

So, thank You Lord for the incredible, miraculous way our bodies are made. And thank You for the fact that You keep us moving and breathing and living in ways far more complex and remarkable than we can ever begin to imagine. And thank You for eyelid oil glands and the fact that, most of the time, they work flawlessly. And thank You for Bruce Boliek, our wonderful eye doctor, who brought by some kind of ointment that does seem to be helping my eye... though I still look like a prize fighter. Well, and I guess thank You for prize fighters and the fact that I am not one. You know, there is just no end of things for which we can be thankful if we will but choose to look. To God be the glory.