Hitherto...

     It was a regular old weekday.  A regular old late afternoon.  A regular old chilly December day.  A regular old walk for Bingley on the regular old greenway.  Same old, same old.
     Only God breaks through in glory.
     What a sunset.  All to remind us that because He is on the throne, all of our "regular olds" in life are anything but. Not with the Almighty Creator and Redeemer sustaining, upholding, orchestrating, superintending all--all, from the far flung galaxies to this spinning blue planet to the minutest details of each of our lives.
     And now this rainy morning,  I'm reminded that His ways are not our ways.  "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." (Isa.55:8-9)
     We don't understand why dear friends must struggle with serious illnesses.  We can't comprehend why God allows other dear friends to stagger under the loss of a child.  We can't imagine how God could salvage good out of what seems to be nothing but sorrow and suffering.
     But in those moments, we trust the heart of our Savior even when we cannot see His hand.  We trust what we do know--that He sent His only beloved Son to invade and redeem and restore a lost and broken planet all out of His astounding, staggering love for us.  That He who came so infinitely far for us, to save us and to bring us all the way home, well, He will not fail us nor desert us now.
     That His ways are so far beyond our ways and that somehow, someway, He is working all things--ALL things--together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. (Rom.8:28)  Even illness and suffering and death and pain.
     I was just now reminded of one of my favorite Spurgeon quotes based on the little verse, "Hitherto hath the Lord helped us." (I Sam.7:12)  While Janie was in the hospital, a dear friend gave us a small rock with that verse written on it, and that rock still sits on our kitchen counter today.  Our Ebenezer of God's forever faithfulness...even in and through the fires of life.  Because His ways are not our ways...but His ways were, are, and will be, forever right, good and perfect.  We trust...even when we cannot understand, because we look back and see His hand of love, grace, and faithfulness.
     For any who might right now be going through those fires, I hope this might be an encouragement.  It's a little long...but well worth it (as Spurgeon always is!)--

          "The word "hitherto" seems like a hand pointing in the direction of the past. Twenty years or seventy, and yet, "hitherto the Lord hath helped!" Through poverty, through wealth, through sickness, through health, at home, abroad, on the land, on the sea, in honour, in dishonour, in perplexity, in joy, in trial, in triumph, in prayer, in temptation, "hitherto hath the Lord helped us!" We delight to look down a long avenue of trees. It is delightful to gaze from end to end of the long vista, a sort of verdant temple, with its branching pillars and its arches of leaves; even so look down the long aisles of your years, at the green boughs of mercy overhead, and the strong pillars of lovingkindness and faithfulness which bear up your joys. Are there no birds in yonder branches singing? Surely there must be many, and they all sing of mercy received "hitherto."

But the word also points forward. For when a man gets up to a certain mark and writes "hitherto," he is not yet at the end, there is still a distance to be traversed. More trials, more joys; more temptations, more triumphs; more prayers, more answers; more toils, more strength; more fights, more victories; and then come sickness, old age, disease, death. Is it over now? No! there is more yet-awakening in Jesus' likeness, thrones, harps, songs, psalms, white raiment, the face of Jesus, the society of saints, the glory of God, the fulness of eternity, the infinity of bliss. O be of good courage, believer, and with grateful confidence raise thy "Ebenezer," for--

He who hath helped thee hitherto

Will help thee all thy journey through.

When read in heaven's light how glorious and marvellous a prospect will thy "hitherto" unfold to thy grateful eye!"

     Amen!  Might we all know and trust today that "He who hath helped thee hitherto, will help thee all thy journey through."  And He has.  And He will.  

     To God be the glory.

Bingley's big sticks

     "Speak softly and carry a big stick."  (Teddy Roosevelt)  
     Well, we've got a ways to go on speaking softly, but we've totally got the big stick part down pat--

      Bingley picks up sticks constantly--and I mean constantly--on the greenway.  Who knew there were so many sticks?  In all my years of walking on the greenway, I had certainly never noticed such an astounding, staggering abundance and variety of sticks...but trust me, there are. Or at least were.  Bingley's making a big dent in the greenway big-stick population. But if you're looking for a few, come visit our yard where he's got quite an impressive collection. They look lovely piled up on top of all our weeds.  Sigh.
     We've noticed that Mr. Bingley strongly favors big sticks...or better yet huge, ginormous ones!  The one pictured above is actually an example of one of his smaller finds...but he carried it for at least 20 minutes.
     He also likes branches an awful lot.  (Come to think of it, are branches "sticks?"  Hmm.) Here's a branch he managed to nab--

     He hauled this one for a good 10 minutes.  It worked well until we came to a bridge where the stick kept whacking the metal side supports.  The staccato bang, bang, bang, bang finally alarmed Bingley so much that he eventually dropped the stick to try to discover the source of all that annoying racket.  He looked rather puzzled when the noise suddenly ceased.  I explained to him that some mysteries in life remain unanswered this side of heaven.  Might as well pick up another stick and keep moving.
       Actually, a pretty good rule for life, don't you think?  Reminds me of a quote I once heard from author Samuel Beckett: "I can't go on; I'll go on."  Sometimes we just have to trust that even if we don't understand, God does.  And since He's both perfectly good and also completely powerful and in control, our job is to pick ourselves up and keep on going.  Even when we're confused...or exhausted...or discouraged.
     Because, I've learned, there's always another stick.  We may think we've found the very last one, and who knows how we'll manage without another one...but then, low and behold, if we'll just keep on going, there's always another stick on up ahead.  Sometimes just around the bend.  Sometimes we just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep our eyes pealed.
     And, by the way, there are all kinds of sticks--on the greenway and in life.  Boy, here was a nice fat one that lasted virtually our whole walk--

    I think Bingley held onto this stick until we got home...then low and behold, what's that?  Another stick in the Worth's yard? O my, that one looks even fatter!  So this one gets dropped in favor of that one...and another one...and on and on.  The dangers of comparison--it's never ever enough, is it?!
     So that's about it for now on Bingley and sticks.  Clearly I'm desperately looking for a diversion--anything to focus upon other than the Christmas mess all over our house that needs to be cleaned up.  But maybe it's time to hitch up my britches and get to work...just go pick up another stick and get going!
     "Be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord." (I Cor.15:58)
     Thanks for reminding me, Lord.  To God be the glory.

Family, friends, and rejoicing in His coming!

     A few Christ memories--the girls' (and moms) cookie exchange.  It really had nothing to do with the cookies...and much to do with the priceless gift of friendship.  Thank You, Father.  C.S. Lewis asks: "Is any pleasure on earth as great as a circle of Christian friends by a good fire?" Probably not...unless you throw in a few chocolate chip cookies and a brownie or two!
     And more Christmas friendship at our annual December 23rd dinner with several dear friends and families--

All the kids in one room talking and eating and having fun...and the adults in another room doing the same.  Thank You, Father.
      And then there was Christmas day, my wonderful sister having us in Chapel Hill...more friends and family all together to celebrate the gift of one another to love and the ultimate Gift of the Savior who loved us.  "We love because He first loved us." (I John 4:19)--

     Thank You, Lord Jesus, for loving us so much that You were willing to come...and to stay. Jesus, our Emmanuel--"God with us."  What a wonder--God always with us in our daily routines and in our desperate crises.  God with us, always and forever, in our every moment on this earth.       And thank You for the joy of celebrating Your birthday once again this year.  O might we never take that wondrous privilege for granted. Thank You for the people we love with whom we can rejoice in the birthday of our King.
   And thank You that You are coming again.  Help us to live this day-after-Christmas in the light of that glorious truth--that You came, You are with us, and You are coming again to make all things right and new and perfect...and so we live with joy and hope in You.  The One who came...and who is coming.
   The party isn't over...we've only seen the opening act!  So as we all clean up over the coming days, might we keep the focus on our King and rejoice in His coming--past, present, and future. The best is yet to come!
    "O come O come, Emmanuel."   To God be the glory.

One moment

     Just pausing for a moment and thinking...about the incarnation.  And about that one moment--that one wondrous and miraculous moment of the Creator becoming the created.  One moment in time--but a moment upon which all of history turned.  A seemingly ordinary moment.  An evening...just like this one, as I sit by the fire for a few precious moments of peace.  Who could have known in that one moment how everything, absolutely everything, would change forever?
     Can we ever wrap our minds around that profoundest, greatest, yet most mysterious and miraculous of moments?: Almighty infinite God becoming finite flesh.  I love what A.W. Tozer wrote:
     "I confess I would have liked to have seen the baby Jesus.  But the glorified Jesus yonder at the right hand of the Majesty on high was the baby Jesus once cradled in the manger straw.  Taking a body of humiliation, He was still the Creator who made the wood of that manger, made the straw, and was Creator of all the beasts that were there.  In truth, He made the little town of Bethlehem and all that it was.  He also made the star that lingered over the scene that night.  He had come into His own world, His Father's world.  Everything we touch and handle belongs to Him.  So we have come to love Him and adore Him and honor Him!"
      Yes, Lord, let us come love, adore, and honor You in this moment right now for You are--
    the Baby cradled in the manger
    the Son calming the storm and curing the leper and the lame
    the Savior climbing willingly upon the cross
    the Lord claiming victory over sin and death in resurrection
    and the Mighty King of Kings and Lord of Lords one day coming again in glory to make all things new and right and perfect...forever.
     So many moments...so many wondrous, miraculous, glorious moments.  Thank You for coming in that moment of Christmas, Lord Jesus.  Might we hand You our every moment--for however many moments You choose to give us on this planet--and come and adore You.  To God be the glory.
   

Me time...or Messiah time

               A little food for weekend thought:
     The bold letters on the email proclaimed: "Secrets to a Stress-free Season!!"  Underneath, the secret, thank goodness, is revealed: "Me Time"--in the form of metallics nail lacquer (whatever on earth that is), organic body lotion (who knew we needed organic lotion in addition to vegetables), foot scrub, and a mud mask.  Really?  Is that all it takes?  No wonder I've been feeling a bit stressed lately.  Good grief.
     Nope.  Time to hit the delete button on that one.  It's not "me time," we're needing, but "Messiah time."  The more I focus on me, the worse it all gets.  The more I look to the Messiah, to the One who came on that Bethlehem night over 2000 years ago, well, the more the peace and joy begins to flow.
     As Dietrich Bonhoeffer has written: "Who among us will celebrate Christmas correctly?  Whoever finally lays down all power, all honor, all reputation, all vanity, all arrogance, all individualism beside the manger; whoever remains lowly and lets God alone be high: whoever looks at the Child in the manger and sees the glory of God precisely in His lowliness."
     O Lord, gives us this day the heart of the shepherds who "went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the a manger."  And after being with the Messiah, "the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had head and seen, as it had been told them." (Lk 2:18,20).
     O Father, help us rush to You...and not our to-do lists.  Help us glorify You...and not ourselves.  Help us praise and honor You...and no other lesser thing that seeks to steal our love and devotion.
     Even in our busyness, give us Your love, Jesus.  Might our love for, and service to, the people You've place in our lives this Christmas spring out of our time spent first at the manger, worshipping and adoring the Messiah.
     O come let us adore Him....for He alone is worthy.  To God be the glory. 

So much, not too much!

     You know you're in trouble when even your puppy is busy multi-tasking:

     Bingley may not respond to "come" every time we call.  He may have the occasional "accident" in the house.  He may even have the tiniest tendency to chew on all sorts of items that are off limits But he does seem to be interested in learning how to text so he can keep up with his brothers and sisters.  He'll probably figure out technology before I do.  Sigh.  

     And somehow, whether we're ready or not, Christmas is coming...in four days.  Oh mercy.  If one more person cheerfully asks me "Are you all ready for Christmas?" I'll just break down and cry.  Seriously.  Because, for the record, I am so NOT ready for Christmas...although we did just mail Christmas cards, thanks to the relentless effort and toil of my husband.  Take that Martha Stewart.      
     But here's the thing: I started veering towards, shall we say, a slight touch of discouragement, maybe even panic...even though I know better.  Even though I know we are celebrating the wondrous gift of God becoming man.  Even though I know that Advent is all about preparing our hearts for the coming of the Messiah, and a worried heart is not a worshipping heart.  Even though I know that our primary task at Christmas is not to buy the perfect presents but to be people who love God and cherish the folks He's placed in our paths. 

      These things we know, right?  But in the midst of the frenzy, we forget...or at least I do.  My sinful focus tends to dwell upon all I have to do, all I've forgotten to do, rather than upon all He has done.  Forgive me, Father. 

     A dear friend, however, sent me some incredibly wise words from a pastor's wife--and her words completely changed my perspective.  Hope they will for you too (assuming, you, like me, are not quite ready for Christmas--even though I promise not to ask!). 

     "It's so much.  Not too much."  

     How many times have we said, "This is just too much."  Too much to do.  Too much to handle.  For some of us, it might too much sorrow and pain.  Too much confusion.  Just too much.  

     But flip that around, this very wise woman says.  It's not too much...but it is so much.  "So much to be grateful to God for.  More than I can name.  Unpack your so much, and you'll discover blessing.  And opportunity.  Opportunity to lean on Him.  To learn more deeply how He wants to be our power, strength, wisdom, Grace...our all in all."  

     O my.  How could I have forgotten?  All this too much is really a result of so much--many blessings in the form of children, friends, home, puppy, wedding...and on and on.  So much evidence of God's goodness requires some time and effort on our part, but would we trade the blessings of family? of home?  of celebrating Christmas?  of friendship?  of weddings and birthdays?  Even in the mountain of laundry, we have the gift of loved ones who need their clothes washed. And the gift of washing machines...and electricity...and clean water.  Consider the vast treasure of blessings behind all those dirty clothes!

     And so much opportunity.  The opportunity to turn to God and say, "I can't...but You can.  Will You do it through me so that You get all the glory?"  So much opportunity to lean upon the Savior.  To trust Him to fill in the gaps and the empty places and to strengthen the feeble arms and weak knees. (Heb.12:12)  Opportunity to grow in grace and learn to lighten up and laugh.  After all, civilization as we know it will not come to a fiery finish if we fail to get through our lengthy to-do lists.  

     Yes, we all have so much...not too much.  Because here's what I know: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14)  And He who gave us His only begotten Son, will He not give us all else that we need to live to HIs glory?  Since Almighty God became man and dwells not just among us but in us, then He will enable us faithfully to deal with any and all of our "so much."
     O goodness, Bingley is now sitting at the door looking pitiful...time to go out...again.  But I'm remembering: thank You, Lord,  for our so much.  To God be the glory.

Press on!

     Well, feels a bit like staggering in the general direction of the finish line...only I'm still hovering mighty near the starting line.  sigh.  Sick child, wedding, puppy, and so much to do that it's impossible to know where to start...so I sit down with the Word and hand the Lord my crummy attitude.
     Coming once again for forgiveness, grace, and renewed strength and hope in the only place where it can be found.  Lord, make me like the shepherds who heard the good news and "went with haste" to find Your Son.  Help me to come to You when to-do lists lengthen, exhaustion weakens, attitudes crumble, and perspective goes badly awry.
     For You came. This is why You came--for sinners just like me!  How could I have forgotten for the moment?  You are here--Emmanuel, "God with us."  With us here in the messes and the mess-ups and the missed opportunities.  With us...with me...with those reading these words. Right now.  Thank You, Lord Jesus, for coming...and staying...and even now calming and renewing our weary hearts.
     A.W.Tozier writes, "The great saints of the past have all had yearning hearts.  Their longing after God all but consumed them; it propelled them onward and upward to heights toward which less ardent Christians look with languid eye and entertain no hope of reaching.  May we offer this word of exhortation: pray on, fight on, sing on!  Press on into the deep things of God.  Keep your feet on the ground, but let your heart soar as high as  it will!"
     Yes, Lord, help us to pray on, fight on, sing on and press on in the busy, sometimes chaotic and exhausting season.  We renounce that spirit of frustration or exhaustion or discouragement that tempts us to just throw up our hands in the midst of the fray.  Thank You for reminding me that You are with us in the battles of life and are calling us to come to You for our marching orders for the day...and then to pray on, fight on, sing on, and press on!
     And we can...because You are leading the way before us, behind us, beside us, and within us.      Time to put on some Christmas carols and start singing and pressing onward!
     To God--who came, who stayed, who leads, who enables us to press on--be all the glory.

     Another cold, rainy day in Raleigh.  Mercy.  The grass is mushy with rainwater, and the skies are leaden and forbidding.  I got up feeling a bit--what else at this time of year?--tired and overwhelmed, and thinking, "Oh brother, another fun day to take a puppy outside 45 times in the cold and wet and mud and muck."  Imagine here a deep and discouraged sigh.
     Eventually it was time to take Bingley to the greenway for his walk...in the cold rain again. But when we got down there, Mr. Bingley promptly sat down and refused to move.  He looked at me with a quizzical expression as if to say, "Have you lost your bloomin' mind?  Do you see how yucky and cold and wet it is out here?  Why on earth did we leave a perfectly warm, dry kitchen with lots of dog toys to come out here in this mess?"  In case you're doubting me, behold--

     Clearly, dogs have more sense than humans.
     But we soldiered on, and Bingley ended up having a big old time out there in the muck and mire.  Me? Not so much.
     Well, maybe not at first...until it hit me.  This is exactly the kind of world into which the King of Glory entered.  He left the infinite joys of heaven to come outside into our rainy, broken, messy world.  And He entered not by way of a perfect palace or even a comfortable, well-equipped home.  No, He came into the muck and mire of a dirty manger in a smelly stable.  No comforts of home there. But there was worse to come...
      Far, far worse: He came and entered into the stench of our sin.  The dirt of our pride.  The mess of our ingratitude.  The ugliness of our hatred and jealousy and gossip and greed.
     He left the comforts of His perfect home to come to our most imperfect planet...and then He chose to stay...and take all that mess and mud and muck upon Himself.  All so that one day, we could return with Him to our glorious, eternal, wondrous home in heaven.
     How can I complain about the rain and mess outside--that's how He came!  That's why He came!  That's what He bore for us on the cross!  And all for where He can now one glorious day take His beloved children for all of eternity.  And there'll be no more rain or death or tears or loss or failure or separation.  Ever.
     So Bingley and I say, let it rain...for let it be a reminder of the One who entered our broken, muddy, messed up world to bring redemption and restoration and joyful, eternal LIFE forever.
    To God--who left His Home to come out into the rain and mess of ours--be all the glory.

Empty hands, full hearts

            A little food for Advent weekend thought:
     It's quiet and dark, very early on this second Sunday of Advent.  I sit here gazing at our dark green Christmas tree sitting in the corner of our living room. We finally picked one out yesterday from the Farmer's Market--but still no lights, no decorations.  Just the pure, simple beauty of God's evergreen pointing to heaven.  And it's enough.
    Everything is going to be simpler this Christmas.  We're too far behind--what with Thanksgiving a week later, wedding in January, and puppy in December.  Many of the boxes with nativities and lights and knick knacks still sit packed away in the attic.  And for a while this was driving me crazy.
     But not anymore--for it's become so clear to me that the time has come to relinquish crazy expectations and embrace celebrating Emmanuel.  The focus should not, cannot be, all this stuff that comes with Christmas.  That's not where the joy comes from.  The focus must be on the astounding wonder of Christ, of God made human flesh, and coming down--so so infinitely far down--for us.  All for the divine, unconditional love of us.
     Such love should stagger us, humble us, and reorient us to what really matters this Christmas.  O gracious, how quickly I forget.  How easily I slip into the self-centered striving mode and forfeit the one thing I should be doing--the worshipping and loving mode.  Worshipping the Savior and loving His children.  Forgive me, Lord.
     So a little food for weekend thought for any of you who, like me, needed to be reminded to cease striving and instead refocus on worshipping and loving.  These are words written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer before his death to his fiance while he was imprisoned in Nazi Germany during World War II:
         "I think we’re going to have an exceptionally good Christmas. The very fact that outward circumstance precludes our making provision for it will show whether we can be content with what is truly essential. I used to be very fond of thinking up and buying presents, but now that we have nothing to give, the gift God gave us in the birth of Christ will seem all the more glorious: the emptier our hands, the better we understand … The poorer our quarters, the more clearly we perceive that our hearts should be Christ’s home on earth."
     Forgive us, Father, for expecting, for demanding so much--especially at this season of Christmas.  And forgive us for placing the unbearable burden of those expectations and demands upon others as well.  We want to have hearts overflowing with adoration and love because of what You've done and who You are.  Help us to relinquish the burdens of striving and instead return to the foot of the cradle...and the cross.  Might we worship You and love others well so that we, too, will have "an exceptionally good Christmas."  
     Empty our hands so that You might fill our hearts.  To God be the glory.
     

A Simpler, "Binglier" Christmas!

   

       

     Bingley--sound asleep.  Doesn't look all that comfortable...but when you're exhausted, anywhere and anything will work.  I was about ready to crawl into that crate myself.
     Puppy joy has been slightly diluted by the fact that I'm unable to get much of anything accomplished these days--between running outside, shouting "Hang on, Mr. Bingley," to cleaning up another pee pee accident on the kitchen floor, to trying desperately to teach him the meaning of the word, "Come!"  (and how about now rather than, say, day after tomorrow?).  I've noticed the "Come" command works magnificently while in the kitchen and holding a handful of food...not so much, however, while outside and trying to lure Bingley from under the bushes where he's eating whatever unmentionable, gross item he currently has in his mouth.
     By the way, what's the deal with that?  Geez.  I mean, really, how hungry can you be that such disgusting items apparently hold such an appeal? 

     This is what Bingley does when he wants you to sit down on the floor, so he can crawl into your lap.  He'll come sit or lie down right at your feet (and sometimes on top of your feet) till you plop down on the kitchen floor with him--at which point he happily climbs into any lap available.  This works pretty well right now (unless you actually have something to do--like maybe get ready for Christmas or go to the grocery store or get something, anything, accomplished).  I'm wondering how this will work when he's about 60 or 70 pounds.  Hmm.  We'll just go with the Scarlet O'Hara approach and not worry it since tomorrow is a whole 24 hours away.  

     Yep, he's a sweet little cuddle bug and loves, loves, loves to sit in your lap.  But here's another thing Bingley seems to love: going pee pee.  Seriously, we (let me rephrase that--I) take him out about 100 times a day.  And he does a magnificent job--I'm always crowing "Good bathroom, Bingley, good bathroom!!"  Then we walk inside...and he promptly goes pee pee on the floor.  O my stars!!    
      I'm thinking we need to call the vet and report that our beloved puppy has a dangerous kidney disease...or at the very least a leaky bladder that may require surgery or doggy diapers (do they make those?) or military school.  Clearly, some drastic form of intervention is required here.  "Bad bathroom, Bingley, bad bad bad, very very bad bathroom!" doesn't seem to be making much of an impact on his little psyche.
     Sooo, in the meantime, we do not yet have a Christmas tree, and yours truly, the queen of a million nativities (I love them and adore putting them all over the house), has put out one lonely small nativity set in the den.  The only problem is, I never get to go in the den, because I'm LIVING in the kitchen with Bingley, shouting "Bad bathroom, Bingley" and sprinting with him out to the backyard.
     My point in all this?  I have no idea. I forgot, since while I was writing this, Bingley somehow managed to extricate himself from the crate where I thought he was sound asleep and came around the corner into the living room.  O NO--think of all the rug space between there and here! O mercy.  It's just better not to know about some things, isn't it?
     No, no really, I did have a point--and it is that I've concluded this will be the Christmas we finally, truly simplify.  Seriously, I know we all talk about it--how crazy and commercial Christmas is; what an exhausting rat race it can be; and how we need to focus on the Lord Jesus and His glorious coming.
     But then 99.99% of the time, we just keep racing on that endless treadmill of decorating, cooking, shopping, buying, hurrying, striving, worrying, and trying desperately to somehow or other cram it all in.  That's just no way to celebrate the greatest event in human history--when Almighty God invaded His creation to become one of us.
     So this year, if you come to our house (and we'd love to have you stop by anytime, by the way!) we may or may not have much of a tree.  The nativity sets will likely still be packed away in the attic.  The elf on the shelf may still be residing in the same spot in the living room for five days in a row.  And no telling when the Christmas cards will be going out or if we'll be baking those yummy candy cane cookies (though there will always be time for chocolate).
    But, Lord willing, we will know that the true joy of Christmas resides not in all the bells and whistles but in the Divine Baby in the manger.  I've already jettisoned the idea of a Martha Stewart fabulous Christmas in favor of a much simpler and joyously focused Christmas.  I was never much for hand-painted wrapping paper anyway.
     Here's all we need to know: "For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:11)  Or as John put it: "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us..." (John 1:14)
     God was born...as a baby...to be our Savior.
     Just wrap your mind around that--God was born (the glorious infinite Almighty born)... as a baby (the Sovereign Creator of the far flung galaxies as an infant)...to be our Savior (thank You, Lord, for coming to the cradle for the sole purpose of going to the cross).
     If we can just live in the wonder of that joyous truth of God-Baby-Savior this Christmas season, even if nothing else gets done around here, well, we'll all be more than fine.  And Mr. Bingley--he's pretty wonderful, even if he's a lot of trouble.  Sometimes God's greatest gifts come wrapped in unexpected packages.
     To God be the glory.

Wonder and worship the Divine Child

     "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:14)
     "How shall we deal with such a child?  Have our hands, soiled with daily toil, become too hard and too proud to fold in prayer at the sight of this child?  Has our head become too full of serious thoughts...that we cannot bow our head in humility at the wonder of this child?  Can we not forget all our stresses and struggles, our sense of importance, and for once worship the child, as did the shepherds and the wise men from the East, bowing before the divine child in the manger like children?"  Dietrich Bonhoeffer
     The words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer as the noose of the Nazis tightened and the unspeakable horrors of Hitler and war and death loomed large. Even in the midst of "stresses and struggles," the wise will worship and bow "before the divine child in the manger like children."
     My prayer today is a simple one: Lord restore to us the wonder of Your coming.  Might we pause in our labors to see, truly see, the astounding, earth-shattering wonder of Almighty God pouring Himself into the tiny, helpless seven pound form of an infant.  Who can fathom it?  A squalling baby...and yet encased within that very real, very little bundle of flesh is the eternal, omnipotent, omniscient Creator of the heavens and the earth.
      Come from heaven to earth for us.  For you.  For me.  How can we not cease our labors to pause and gawk in astonishment at the audacity, the wonderful wonder of such a God who would stoop so low in order to come so near for love so great?
     "The answer to deep anxiety is the deep adoration of God," says Ann Voskamp.
     "O come let us adore Him.  O come let us adore Him.  O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord."
     Yes, Lord, we worship the Divine Child in the manger even as we wonder with astonished and humble gratitude that You would love us so infinitely much to stoop so low, to come so near, and to choose, as Eugene Peterson put in it in John 1:14, "to move into the neighborhood."  It's one thing to come for a visit...but You came...and stayed...for good, for forever.  Thank You, Lord Jesus.  No matter our "stresses and struggles," might we worship You this day with joyous wonderment.
     To God be the glory.

Already Advent

     Whew.  Already December 2nd.  I awoke this morning feeling like I've missed the start of the race and have already fallen far behind.  The gun went off...the runners took off...and I'm just plain off.  Still standing here slack jawed and staring at the starting line while struggling to simply tie my shoelaces.  O mercy.
     Already--there's that word I found myself thinking and writing.  It's "already" Advent.  We've "already" received some Christmas cards in the mail.  It's "already" past time to have figured out our own Christmas card picture and started shopping--neither of which we have even begun to contemplate.  Between a brand new puppy, a wedding coming up, and a full household for Thanksgiving, I'm "already" lagging far, far behind.  And feeling quite overwhelmed.  Can you tell?
     Sigh.  I'm complaining--forgive me, Lord.
     So I went back to the Word--in fact, I just returned to the Bible verses we read with the children yesterday for Advent:

 Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. 

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
    and cry to her
that her warfare is ended,
    that her iniquity is pardoned,
that she has received from the Lord's hand
    double for all her sins. 

A voice cries:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord;
    make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Every valley shall be lifted up,

    and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
    and the rough places a plain. 

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
    and all flesh shall see it together,
    for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”   (Isaiah 40:1-5)

      God reminded me once again what Christmas is all about--our Messiah coming on a quiet night in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago.  He came to bring comfort and peace and forgiveness and wisdom and joy and hope.  He came to bring the greatest Gift this world has ever known--Himself.  And He came to give that which we could never, ever obtain for our weak, worn, and wandering souls--salvation.  

     But how can we rejoice in Him and His gift of redemption if we're preoccupied with the fluff and flotsam of the season?  

     No, to rediscover His peace we must, in the words of Brother Andrew, "practice His presence."   We must rediscover stillness before Him and listen for His still small voice as He speaks to us through His Word. 

     Thank You for doing that for me just now, Lord.  Thank You that You will lift up every valley of struggle in our lives.  You will make straight highways of hope in our deserts.  You will even out the ground of our grumpiness and ingratitude with Your grace.  You will reveal Your glory to us in the midst even of our sometimes messy and mundane lives...all as we look to You.  As we look for You in Your Word, in Your people, and in Your plans for our lives, whatever they might look like.  

     I read these few words from Ann Voskamp early this morning: "Making space in the pace for more peace for more Jesus...Slow for more joy in Jesus."   

     Yes, Lord, calm our racing hearts and slow our frazzled pace so that we might experience a fresh filling of Your hope and peace this Advent.  We want to see You above all and through all and in all.  For in You is fullness of joy. If we fail to mail even one card or we mess up the cookies or we miss the mark--which we will--on our idealized fantasy version of Christmas, O Lord, help us to laugh it off in the joyous wonder of seeing You.  

     You, Lord Jesus, and You only...for that will be enough to fill our Christmas this year with joy and peace. It's already Advent--but to be all ready for You is all that matters.  So we're focusing on and following You in this race of life...and that means we'll be right on pace.  On pace for peace and joy.  

     To God--who not only came, but stayed and is here with us that we might run the race with Him and for Him --be all the glory.