2020 Vision

 

 

We are in that strange week between packing up Christmas and packing up the old year.  This was the year when goals and plans and resolutions didn't take precedence, nor even a backseat, but just about thrown out of the car.  We were caught up in what was happening now, what was next, or simply waiting impatiently for "normal" to return. 

To have 2020 vision is not perfect eyesight, but seeing what is real and right before us.  Not remembering the past through a distorted lens of a rearview mirror, because "objects in the mirror are closer than they appear."  Nor imagining what is ahead through a hazy windshield and the imperfect lens of our own desires.

As this last day of 2020 dims, we are not limited by hindsight or handicapped by foresight, but strengthened by His sight. 

What did we learn this year?  What did we earn?  And for what do we yearn?

I learned even more that God is with us.  We can trust Him, even when we don't understand.  That reorders how I view God, how I respond to others, how I see myself, and how I face circumstances. We can be faithful in what He places before us and on our hearts. Nothing but nothing is insignificant.  And God brings His fruitfulness to it, even in what appears like a barren landscape and rocky soil.  It is more than our routines that have been changed.  I learned what I have, what I really need, what I can give away, what to hold on tight, what to let go, and how to love in unexpected ways.

We have all learned to walk in a wilderness that we didn't expect.  And know even more now Who walks with us.

I earned a renewed respect for those who serve in our community-- the dedicated medical professionals who continue to faithfully minister in this pandemic even at great personal sacrifice, the first responders, and even the grocery workers who kept us fed.  I was also so thankful for those who tirelessly developed Zoom and Facetime, not knowing at the time how vitally it would connect people in this pandemic and keep the churches and church ministries open online.

I yearned for time with family, separated from those in-town and those across the nation.  We loved each other even more and cherished time we could have, seeing each other face to face on a screen.  I also yearned for church.  We were able to "meet" online on Sunday mornings.  We texted to pray together on the spot for help and joy. We were able to "get together" on Zoom for home group, Bible study, book discussion groups, and even classes.  But I missed corporate worship, the gathering of church family.  We will never take that for granted again.

And I can't help but think that through all the hardships and hidden joys in this past year, we have been trained and strengthened for new seasons and upcoming years.  

We cannot know what we will face in the coming weeks and months and years.  But we can know Who does.  God goes with us.  He does not promise that life will be easy in this broken world, but "I am with you."  He does not expect us to endure, but abide in Him.

Now faith is the assurance

    of things hoped for,

the conviction of 

    things not seen.

          Hebrews 11. 1 

At the end of 1939, not knowing the suffering or outcome of what was ahead in the coming years of World War 2, George VI the king of the United Kingdom gave a speech to carry into the new year:

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:

"Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown."

And he replied:

"Go out into the darkness and

put your hand into the Hand of God.

That shall be to you better than light

and safer than a known way."

So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.

And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.

 

God is faithful.  He is holding us.  He will not just bring us through this pandemic.  He walks with us hand in hand.

Now to Him

who is able to do

far more abundantly

than all that we ask

    or even imagine,

according to 

   the power at work

   within us,

to Him be glory.......

           Ephesians 3. 20

 

All the Pieces, Not One of Them is Missing

 

 

These scattered oddly-shaped pieces pretty much look like a visible image of the year 2020. 

Throughout the year, bits and details arrived unexpectedly and uninvited into each of our lives.  Suddenly our game plans and resolutions and what was ordinary fell off the table, and our grand ideas for the year were replaced by what appeared only as random and undefined. These shapes now in our hands didn't look like they fit together at all.  It was a jigsaw puzzle without a picture that we could yet see or control after all.

But in the midst of it all -- what has been, what is, what is to come-- God continually reminds us:

"Trust Me."

And "Fear not. I am with you."

Even the unknown is not unknown to Him.

  

Fear not, for I am with you.

Be not dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you,

I will help you,

I will uphold you 

    with My righteous right hand.

                     Isaiah 41. 10

The pieces are mysterious to us, because we do not yet see the connections between them, nor the redeeming of each of these tiny bits as they are perfectly joined together.

 

And slowly, but slowly, we begin to see the patterns of His faithfulness already there.  "Oh, so that's why."  Even the shadowy places, even the jagged edges, even when we don't understand it, things don't just "work out," but they fit with precision.  Even the baffling ones.  Because someday we will comprehend and know fully.  

God reveals Himself to us daily.  God redeems our lives every minute.  Nothing missing.  No extra pieces.

 

He reveals deep and hidden things.

He knows what is in the darkness,

and the light dwells with Him.

                    Daniel 2. 22

 

And piece by sacred piece, step by divine step, moment by holy moment, we follow Him into His grand design. 

Someday on the other side of life, all this will not just make sense.  We will be awed by the Almighty.

He's Here

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We have two six-year-old granddaughters who live far apart geographically.  But both of them love celebrating the Christmas season in very different ways.  One has worn -- literally daily in December-- a different Christmas outfit, a colorful combination of red, green, and pink tops and dresses every day, sometimes in rather unusual arrangements.  Even those she outgrew years ago, way too short, she pulled out of the back of the closet and paired with some leggings.

The other has a new dress with a Christmas motif.  I asked her last week if she was enjoying wearing it.  "Gramma!" she scolded me.  "It is a Christmas dress.  I am saving it for our Christmas Eve service."  A service, may I note, that is virtual this year.  But it is Christmas Eve.  And it is not just special in her eyes, but a sacred time not just to celebrate, but to worship.

Even as young as they are, both girls recognize and acknowledge that Christmas -- even in this strange and unusual year-- is not just a national holiday, or event, or just another day -- but Jesus came.

And that changes everything.

The angels sang, "He's here!"   

But God did not just show up.  He has been here all along.  All through Scripture, Old and New Testament, God says, "Do not fear.  I am with you."  

This year is no exception.  We needed those words more than ever.

The very last verse in the book of Ezekiel says, "The LORD who is here."  (Ezekiel 48. 35)

That is one of the names of God.  We are here.  And God is with us.  

We need to speak out loud His name, even in our weariness and the mysteries of this year, filled with unrest and pandemic suffering and death, uncontrollable wild fires, political craziness, injustice, and zoom everything.  Recite and repeat the reality of Emmanuel.  God is not out there somewhere.  God is with us.  God is.

Worship is not just something we do, but something that does something to us.  More than we can know.  As a result, we see God differently, others differently, circumstances and even ourselves.  "But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God."  (Psalm 73. 16-17)

We will never fully understand all of this, but when we come before Him, we can trust Him in it, no matter the circumstances.  He is with us.

This Christmas, our little granddaughters (and their siblings) are rejoicing the spectacular that has happened in time and space and in our lives.  This is a time to celebrate.  Even when everything else looks weary, these little saints have spotted the underlying patterns of the sacred order.  "And on that day there shall be inscribed on the bells of the horses, "Holy to the LORD!" Zechariah 14. 20    May we inscribe those words even on the most ordinary of days and deeds to help us realize there are no ordinary days and deeds in God's narrative.

And we celebrate not just the coming of the Jesus child, but Christ the Savior of the world.

He's here.

He's here with us.

Coming to the Surface

Sometimes encouragement comes in the most unexpected ways.  

For me this Christmas, that prompting has arrived in our mailbox.  We have been socially distanced now for ten months and counting, but delivered day by day, sometimes just one by one, envelopes have appeared in the late afternoon at the end of our postal carrier's route.  Amidst catalogs and promotions, woohoo, an unexpected delight, there is real mail.  Christmas cards have been delivered. 

In past Decembers, I have read the cards and placed them in a little red basket.  But this year, as they have arrived, I stuck them up on the cabinet doors.

 

And throughout the days, I see faces smiling, encouraging, reminding me of good times and of struggles we have come through together.  We live in a continual state of repentance and forgiveness, of grace and givenness.  We have run together some tough terrain, helped with each other's boulders, cried together, laughed hilariously, pulled each other up to travel on, and brought over needed pans of lasagna and dozens of cookies.  We are all still hiking in the wilderness, but along the way, we have found together God's presence in the really big stuff and the days of small things.

Through all the many places where we have lived through the years, ten locations at last count, God has strategically woven people into our lives.  And in this season of physical separateness, those who comprise our ongoing (and often invisible) community come to the surface, some of whom we hear from just once a year at Christmas, sometimes not at all, but they are there.

They come from so many different locations, backgrounds, and seasons of our lives, but occasionally as I look at them, I see connections between those who don't even know each other.

As I stick up yet another card, one holding up another, these images remind me to pray.  Amidst all the smiling faces, I know there have been enormous challenges, miry bogs, impenetrable brambles, cavernous relational potholes, dead ends, huge losses, and yet, the revealing of God's faithfulness, day by day, sometimes moment by moment in their lives.

But as varied as it appears, we are together embraced, accepted and loved. We run together, and then sometimes, radically different courses, a couple of minutes together, and then, years apart. But God has blessed us with these seemingly disparate people, in and out of our lives in His perfect timing and design.  God created us for relationship with each other and with Him.  Walking with Him, running with others, even when it feels like we are tackling that huge mountain by ourselves.

We are not alone.  Emmanuel.  God is with us.

We are physically and geographically distant, but bound close by God's love.

 

Therefore,

since we are surrounded

by so great a cloud of witnesses,

let us also lay aside every weight,

and sin

which clings so closely,

and let us run with endurance

the race that is set before us,

looking to Jesus...

                  Hebrews 12. 1-2

Cancelled!

 

 

My 88 year old mother-in-law is staying with us to keep her safe during the covid surge.  A few days ago, she emerged from her room with the announcement that Europe has cancelled Christmas.  The truth was that many countries had cancelled their Christmas markets and imposed other restrictions.

We have lived through a year of many adjustments, inconveniences, hardships, dire straits, and cancellations.  But Christmas is not that which can be just called off.  Christmas is not an event.  

Our celebration of the birth of Jesus may look very different this year.  And in some ways, it may be a truer celebration with our manmade traditions removed.  Concerts are cancelled, Christmas Eve services moved online, Santa and the reindeer on lockdown, family gatherings either postponed or narrowed to a essential few, travel limited, and the annual menu altered.

Traditions may be falling off the tree this year, but in turn, revealing what Christmas is really all about:  the love of God for each and every one of us, a gift not earned.  God does not keep a list of who is naughty or nice.  God forgives.  God loves.  God redeems.  God came to earth to give His life to save us from our own brokenness.  It is the gospel, the ultimate good news, of which everyone of us needs.

"And He shall reign for ever and ever."   Revelation 11. 15

That is the message of Christmas. Our hope in Christ is not wishful thinking for the future, but firmly established throughout history, revealed in God's Word cover to cover,  and woven seamlessly in the now.  

"Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign.  Behold, a young woman shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call His name Emmanuel," wrote the prophet Isaiah 800 years before the birth of Christ.  (Isaiah 7. 14)

That prophecy was fulfilled and acknowledged in the book of Matthew. "She will bear a son, and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins."  All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:  "Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and His name shall be called Emmanuel," which means, God with us. (Matthew 1. 21-23)

Christmas is not cancelled after all.   Emmanuel, God with us.  God is still with us. 

No matter what.

 

And He is before all things,

and in Him

all things hold together.

           Colossians 1. 17 

 

Oh come, let us adore Him! 

A Daily Reminder In Case We Forget

 One of our daughters was out running this morning

 and witnessed the glory of God.

The sunrise is God's daily reminder 

that no matter what is ahead in this day, 

and every day,

     "I'm here and walking with you through it."

Every morning, every evening, the bookends of our days

reveal our Redeemer.

The Mighty One, God the LORD,

speaks and summons the earth

from the rising of the sun

to its setting.

Out of the perfection of beauty,

God shines forth.

                         Psalm 50. 1-2

 

Trusting God is not just a worldview,

        but a way of seeing reality

that changes the course of our days

    and radically alters our journeys in life.

How we see God impacts 

    how we love others,

how we respond to circumstances,

    and how we see ourselves.

As author C. S. Lewis notes:  "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen:  not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."    

We take for granted 

that every morning sneaks in

 with the spectacular,

and we have forgotten

                to celebrate.

Our lives should be marked

by His light and hope

that cannot be extinguished. 

There are no ordinary days

on God's calendar

without His glory 

all over us.

Alignment, explanation and the unexplainable

 

 

Tonight, December 18, literally the stars will align.  For the first time in 800 years, a view of the planets of Saturn and Jupiter will be aligned in the night sky.  If it is not cloudy tonight, try to catch the starry display of light.  It won't be back for another 800 years.

Astronomers are saying that this alignment must have been what the Wise Men called the Star of Bethlehem, in an effort to explain away the wonder.  But if you read the Scriptures, these men from the East had been watching and waiting for hundreds of years, because they knew that this immense star was one of the signs of the coming Messiah.

"Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem,, saying, "Where is He who has been born king of the Jews?  For we saw His star when it rose and have come to worship Him."  (Matthew 2. 1-2)

From far away, probably in Persia, they did not just see a star one night, but they followed its brilliance on a long arduous journey.  The star guided them.  They came to Jerusalem and asked directions, but no one had any idea.

"After listening to the king, they went on their way.  And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them, until it came to rest over the place where the child was.  When they saw the star. they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy.  And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped Him." (Matthew 2. 9-11)

The star moved, went before them, and stopped right where Jesus was.

Jesus has always been subjected to being explained away, because His coming is so incredible.  But the story of Christ is the unexplainable narrative -- God in flesh coming to earth to save us from our sin.  As Timothy Keller says, "He came to fetch us."  His love resides beyond what can be explained.  We have not earned His love.  But we can live fully in it.  We are His beloved.  

There may be a thousand scientific explanations for the star of Bethlehem, an alignment of two planets, the delusion of a few ancient wise men, or a mere legend.  Or just an excuse to avoid reality.

But what if.....?  What if it was real?  And not just what if, but what is.  What if God loved the world that He gave His only Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life? (John 3. 16)  What if?  That changes not just our worldview, but the course of our lives.

Ponder the wonder of Almighty God.  The star is not the miracle.  But that God loves us that much.

 

We three kings of Orient are

Bearing gifts, we traverse afar.

Field and fountain, moor and mountain,

Following yonder star.

 

O star of wonder, star of night,

Star with royal beauty bright,

Westward leading, still proceeding,

Guide us to Thy perfect light.

 

Born a King on Bethlehem plain,

Gold I bring to crown Him again,

King forever,

Ceasing never

Over us all to reign.

 

O star of wonder, star of night,

Star with royal beauty bright,

Westward leading, still proceeding,

Guide us to Thy perfect light.

Far Beyond Every Intention

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few nights ago, my husband, mother-in-law, and I sat around our little fire pit, the cold breeze swirling the smoke around us.  We zippered up our jackets, trying to keep out the frigid air.  But the fresh breeze was invigorating. We were released from the confines of the house. And the flying sparks tried to dance to the homeland of the stars, illuminating an unexpected frontier.

To urge on the flames, a crumpled piece of newspaper lay amidst the splintered pieces of wood, the sacrifice of a tree no longer living.  I could see the flames gently curling around the edges of the paper.  There were columns of type, a small picture perhaps of the author, and words being consumed.  Someone’s hard work, someone’s story, someone’s sentences were going up in flames.

But as I watched and pondered, the words were not being extinguished into nothingness, but moving into another dimension, another purpose like the wood.  It was no longer a page from a newspaper or a novel or article, so quickly discarded, but a source of light and beauty and a bit of warmth for a shivering soul.  And the flames seemed to whisper those words on the page right back to me.

Being burned in a fire pit was not what the writer intended for her hard work, but instead those efforts reached far beyond what could be known. 

We may think that our creative efforts are to no avail.  But we cannot know how those simple words, those crazy thoughts, a slow-growing garden, that painting or sketch, the forming of something new out of what has been discarded, a melody, warm hand-cut cookies, the tiny stitches of a shirt, or patching together a small poem bring light and beauty and warmth to someone we might not know, or someone we have no idea has a need for it. 

It bears eternity because someone has been changed by it, a legacy woven into our fabric, gaining in value, and passed on inadvertently into the creative life of another.

Because we were created in the image of God, we are all imaginative in some way in everything we do.  We see differently because of our Creator.  We see life differently because of His ongoing creativity being filled continually in us.  And through us.  Not so much as the folding of the laundry is without deepest value.

If we don’t write it down, paint that canvas, carve the formless wood, speak the words, write that letter, or sing out loud our hearts, it is not just that we miss out on His glory in it, His timeless purposes, His immense faithfulness.  But the world remains poorer because of our short vision and the deep dumpster of “doesn’t matter.” We have not responded to the nudges of God.  We have ignored His whispers of “what if...?”  What if I even tried?  And that is an enormous loss to the world. 

We never waste time bringing beauty, warmth, and the light of a million galaxies into whatever kindness we can, nothing insignificant in God’s universe. 

No, we waste time not doing so.

Because Nobody Could Make This Up

 

 

We are surrounded in the Christmas season by heartwarming stories, movie favorites, snappy tunes and beloved carols that have been woven into our hearts over the years.  

But as we read these tales, I make sure to point out to the kids that the Christmas story -- as fantastic and mind-boggling as it is -- is REAL.  Because nobody could have made this up.

As Timothy Keller emphasizes in his book Hidden Christmas:  The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth of Christ, the Biblical account of the birth of Christ does not hold the elements of fiction, but the gritty details of truth from all the begats to a cold messy stable because there was no room for them in the inn.  

"Then we come to the Christmas story.  And at first glance it looks like the other legends.  Here is a story about someone from a different world who breaks into ours and has miraculous powers, and can calm the storm and heal people and raise people from the dead. Then his enemies turn on him, and he is put to death, and it seems like all hope is over, but finally he rises from the dead and saves everyone.  We read that and we think, Another great fairy tale!  Indeed, it looks like the Christmas story is one more story pointing to these underlying realities. 

"But Matthew’s Gospel refutes that by grounding Jesus in history, not “once upon a time.”  He says this is not fairy tale.  Jesus Christ is not one more lovely story pointing to these underlying realities – Jesus is the underlying reality to which all the stories point."

This is not just another bedtime story.  And it doesn't end there between the covers of a book.

The gospel is the good news that Jesus came to change not just the course of history, but He came to save us in all our brokenness.  

By this we know love,

that He laid down 

   His life for us...

             1 John 3. 16