It's ok to say it

I was finishing a transaction at a store, when I realized, it is December.  And that it is kind, loving, and perfectly ok to tell the clerk, "Merry Christmas."  And anyone else who God may put on my path.

Saying something as simple as "Merry Christmas" is a reminder in our culture that there is something deeper going on here.  I am not just buying random gifts.  It is not just a retail holiday created by Hallmark and Target. It is a holy-day.  The angels proclaimed the good news, "He is here." And three decades later, the angels proclaimed even greater news, "He is not here."

When sharing the gospel, St. Augustine once said, "when necessary, use words."

I would say, "in addition, use your words."

Over the Thanksgiving break, some members of our family were able to attend the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall in New York City, complete with full orchestra, 3-D glasses, music, dancing, and extravagance.  As the show progressed with great showmanship, I began to think that with all the hoopla about the season and the perfect gifts, it would take God Himself to keep someone from being terribly disappointed on Christmas morning.  I chuckled at the irony.

And then suddenly, on stage in full array, complete with camels, sheep, donkeys, and a suspended angel surrounded by laser lights, the nativity story was narrated in sight and sound, the account of the birth of Christ not made up or glamorized by a script writer, but the Scriptures in Luke 2 clearly read out loud. Nothing more profound than that.

May our lives --and our words -- point others to Christ.

I cannot summarize the good news of the gospel in two words.  But I can leave a reminder, like an unmistakable stick-it note, "Merry Christmas," every which way I can, in word and deed.

And the angel said to them,
"Be not afraid,
for behold, I bring you
good news of a great joy
which will come to all the people;
for to you is born this day
           in the city of David
a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

                      Luke 2. 10-11

How am I going to do this?

I woke in the early darkness that day, reluctant to face what was quite literally on my course for the morning.  I slipped out of bed a little earlier than I needed to because of what I really needed.

I pulled on my clothes, already set out the night before.  I headed up to the attic space where I would stretch out my legs and let the LORD lay out His day before me by reading His Word.

And there at the end of one chapter, right at the end of my reading, my heart was caught by a verse.

Our help is in the name of the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.
 
                           Psalm 124. 8

Running through my thoughts on a repeated loop had been the question, "How am I going to do this?"

And it was as if God had replied to me through His Word, "Not by yourself."

I was running a marathon that morning.  And over and over throughout those hours, those words came to the surface of my thoughts and gave me His strength as I repeated them.

We all face a lot of things much harder than a marathon.  And in the course of my life since that day, God reminds me of His Presence.  Don't even try to do this on your own.

No need to.

On Whom do I call, to Whom I pray, on Whom I rely, not just for this day, but on Whom I can stake my life.

Don't ever forget it.

This verse should be my first response in time of trouble, my daily prayer at the break of day, no matter what is set before me. How am I going to do this?

Not by myself.

Our help is in the name of the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.

                           Psalm 124. 8

Engrave on your heart.
Repeat as needed.

Look for the helpers

Our two year old grandson pointed out to me a place on the wall where light and dark had created a design. "What is that?" he asked.
"Just a shadow," I replied.
"That's scary," he said.  He is not sure what "scary" means, but he heard in some conversation or a children's book that shadows are something of which to be afraid.  And I prayed that he would not be paralyzed by what has no substance at all.

I feel like I have wasted a lot of my life being afraid of shadows. 

When one of our daughters was five, she was reciting the Ten Commandments.  She had named most of them, when she hesitated for just a minute.  I could almost see the gears in her brain moving.  "Do not ...," she started.  And then with great excitement and a strike of brilliance on her part, she finished, "Do not be afraid!"

"That is not one of the Ten Commandments," I pointed out.

"Well, it should be," she said.

Indeed, woven throughout history and throughout Scripture, God says, "Do not be afraid."  Because fear paralyzes us from doing what is good and right. It attempts to extinguish every vestige of hope.  And fear keeps us from trusting our sovereign God.  Trusting God opens doors.

Many people know of Fred Rogers as a beloved children's television pioneer. What few people realize is that Mr. Rogers, as he was known, was first a Presbyterian minister who desired to teach and display moral truth in pictures and stories that small children could understand.

"When I was a boy," said Mr. Rogers, "and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping."

Stories are how moral imagination grows in the hearts of children.  This is what doing what is right looks like.  This is what telling the truth looks like.  This is what being kind looks like.  By seeing morals played out in stories, a child learns not just what they are, but how to do it too.

"Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping."

This is how to respond.  Don't just look for the helpers, be one.

"If we do not do the running steadily
                   in the little ways,
we shall do nothing in the crisis."

                   Oswald Chambers
                   My Utmost for His Highest

That which is sewn stitch by stitch into the fabric of our everyday lives is evident in time of dire need.  What am I practicing? Fear?  Or the grace of God even in this daily task?  Even in this daunting appointment? Am I aware of others? Am I learning how to respond? 

As for you, brothers,
do not grow weary in doing good.

                   2 Thessalonians 3. 13

A bad case of the "what if's"

My busy day commenced at 5:14 a.m. in the pre-dawn darkness, full of preparations for the coming holiday and even including a short hike in the woods on a chilly afternoon, the sunlight waning through the canopy of skeletal trees.

So, when I finally climbed into bed, I expected a quick drift into slumberland.

But not so.

A noisy and unruly crowd of "what if's" lined up on my side of the bed.  I turned my back to those aggravating thoughts and loose ends and scary monsters crawling out from the dust ruffle.  And I lay there, listening to my husband's measured breathing.  I was not able to sleep.

I had a bad case of "what if's, triggered by what I had yet to do, don't forget to stop the mail, bring your gloves, what shoes would be best for walking, and do I really need that coat.  Those thoughts were egged on and sustained by getting a subway pass and traveling from the airport to the city with two toddlers, a stroller and suitcases.  And finally, I also added to the fray those things totally outside of my control and fear that has been broadcast daily on the media of what is going on in the world...and what could happen. My imagination is never more awake than in the middle of the night.

And I thought of the childhood song, "Five little monkeys jumping on the bed."  It was too crowded to even turn over.

When we have a project before us, or a situation we are working on, or a problem to be unraveled, it is accompanied by a surge of energy that God supplies to carry us through.  But God never meant that provision to be used for anxiety.  When we feel that surge coming on, we all too often identify it as anxiety, when all along, God means us to recognize it as His strength to go forth.

When that surge of energy comes, instead of complying to a default of stress and fear, instead of investing in anxiety for which there is no end, instead of setting up my tent in the miry bog of despair....what if?

What if I trusted God with that energy instead?  What if I trusted God instead of that phantom of anxiety?  What if I trusted God that much?  

What if, instead, I focused my thoughts on His faithfulness, staking my life on God to bring me through and dwelling on a peace provided by the Almighty God, no matter what is going on.

In God's kingdom, "what if" is not based on fear,
but the "what if"
         of His extravagant goodness,
not the impossibilities,
          not even on possibilities,
but the reality of His Presence.

Now to Him
who by the power at work within us
                     is able
to do far more abundantly
than all that we ask or imagine...

                     Ephesians 3. 20

Burnt Rolls and other Thanksgiving Traditions

None of us can remember the first time it happened, but along with my mom's green beans that had been cooked to death, the annual burning of the rolls became a Thanksgiving tradition when I was growing up.

"This year," mom would promise and proclaim, "this year, it won't happen."  But it did.  The store-bought dinner rolls were slipped into the oven in their little aluminum trays, and well, there was always some kind of distraction.  The blessing went on a little too long, there was jockeying for position at the table, someone's water glass tipped over, or the rolls were simply forgotten.

And then, with exact timing 3-2-1, we all heard Mom's shriek from the kitchen as she discovered the charred rolls.  More than once, the smoke detector alerted us to the obvious.  The back door was opened to let out the smoke into the bitter Chicago air.  And the bread, now appearing as lumps of charcoal, once again was deleted from the menu, ending up still smoking in the trash.

Mom would look surprised for a moment as if "how did that happen?" and then, she would laugh.  And we would chuckle with her, grace not covering up her mistakes, but redeeming them.

Realizing that Thanksgiving comes suddenly upon us next week, a family email was circulated among our daughters yesterday, soliciting Thanksgiving menu requests.  Let the creativity commence.  And may the cornbread dressing retain its rightful place of honor..

My husband's request for the meal?  "I am just glad to be together," a rare and precious time now that our family are scattered across two time zones.

It's not about the perfect table, or perfect food, or a perfect family, but thankfulness to God for what we do have, for what He has done this year, and for Who He is.

Many friends have shared with me their anxieties about the holidays, and it doesn't have anything to do with the menu, but bitter grapes, long-seasoned animosity, and overcooked bad attitudes, things that don't belong. Breaking those traditions means taking the high road there and bringing a huge plate of grace to the table.

Saying grace refers to a short prayer or an expression of thankfulness to God, traditionally said before a meal.  It is not meant to be a recitation, but a realization of God's favor.

Bringing grace is a state of being that results in an intentional mindset and heart prepared to express a love that is not earned.  Grace releases us from expecting perfection in others, and fills in the cracks with an impossible love.  The most important person in the room is not you, but the one that needs your love the most.

Who is saying grace this year?
More importantly,
               am I bringing grace?

 Grace covers it all, even when provoked.  Grace changes it all, especially me.

A commercial last night showed a family joyously arriving for Thanksgiving dinner.  "It's going to be perfect," the narrator said. 

Think instead:  "No, it's going to be grace."

Because that is what God has given us.

And from His fullness
we have all received,
                  grace upon grace.

                                 John 1 16

If I want things to be different,
        something has to change.
And that would be me.

Finally, brethren, whatever is true,
whatever is honorable,
whatever is just,
whatever is pure,
whatever is lovely,
whatever is gracious,
if there is any excellence,
if there is anything worthy of praise,
        think about these things.
What you have learned
and received and heard
and seen in me,
                        do,
and the God of peace will be with you.

                             Philippians 4. 8-9

Practice grace in this.

May we not just say grace as a formality,
    but bring grace as a personal gift.
It is not that it will be the perfect holiday,
   impossible with imperfect humans all in one room,
                     but that is what grace is all about.
Do not forget why we come together:
           not to be thankful,
           but to thank God.
He is the honored guest.