sunrise

On the final day of Christmas vacation, I sat alone on the beach watching the sun rise over a pink-edged cloud hanging low over the ocean on an eastern shore in Kauai. We took the family for a week of respite, and this particular morning on the beach was part of my respite from them.

After watching the pink lining on a thunder cloud in the distance for a while, the sun finally emerged a giant sorbet pink and orange. I can't describe the color. It was so much larger than usual. I perched on a rock trying to capture the enormous size of the sun with my camera, without success.

That has happened to me before when I futilely attempt to take a picture of an exceptionally large moon, hanging bright and bold just above the edge of the world. The photo never looks like anything special, showing a tiny bright dot in a dark sky. I usually toss them. Why is it so hard to capture the size of an impressive object in the sky?

On this sun-spectacular morning the phenomenon spoke of God. He too defies being captured. God almighty, exceptionally large, boldly brilliant, full and indescribable. Sometimes we just have to experience how big He is for ourselves.

God has been showing Himself to be big to me lately. Big in a way that I can't describe, and I suppose you may just have to experience it for yourself. As God gets bigger I am realizing that this life I live keeps getting smaller. The problems that plague me, the issues I wrestle with, and the daily troubleshooting that frustrates me seem to diminish before the vast magnificence of God. He becomes more important while my problems become less important.

I know that the sun and the moon don't really change sizes. It is simply that at certain times I experience them to be bigger than usual. I always believed it was an illusion caused by the magnification of the earth's atmosphere, but I recently learned that this explanation is a myth. The phenomenon remains definitively unexplained. It struck me strange that with all of our scientific advances and knowledge of physics and illusions, after centuries of observation scientists still cannot conclusively explain the reason that at certain times the moon (or sun in my case) appears to be larger than usual.

Perhaps it needs to be looked at the other way around. The sun and the moon in reality are enormous, so much bigger than we can comprehend from afar. Perhaps we are not wrong in observing them large on a rare occasion, but wrong in observing them small on a regular basis. As with God. Perhaps we are forgetful of His true size and once in a while need to remember that He is so much bigger than we can fathom.

I want the year 2016 to be marked as a year of witnessing God in His fullest, biggest, brightest, most brilliant.

love {advent}

We attended Christmas Eve service at my parents' home church, basking in the candle light and rich truth in the song lyrics of old tradition. The kids were quite wiggly during the service, and their energy began to spiral upward the later it became. This generally involves a lot of jumping up and down, touching each other, and loud shrill voices. It was late for little kids, but still, they should be able to obey simple instructions.

Climbing into the car for the 40 minute drive home, Sommer began to melt down. She is my teenager turned 4-years-old and uses loud crying and yelling to express the tangle of emotions inside of her underdeveloped communication system, especially when she is tired or hungry. Lord forbid both.

It was the Christmas music that set her off because she didn't want to listen to the song that the rest of the family was enjoying on the radio. That is what she said, but the truth is she was feeling miserable and wanted to boss and scream and shout the rest of us into feel miserable too. It was an awful way to end an otherwise beautifully intentional night of focusing on Jesus Christ.

With the world's most over dramatic tantrum as background noise for the entire 40 minutes, I stared out the car window thinking about the things I needed to do before I crawled into bed. A mother doesn't get to rest on Christmas Eve and there were the stockings to fill and the Christmas dinner to prep and I couldn't forget to put out some of Santa's presents.

Throughout the drive, I kept thinking that my daughter didn't deserve any presents. Not a single one. Here I was in poised position ready to play Santa, and my she was putting up the kind of fit that would destine her for the naughty list. What to do?

The words of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" were playing on the radio now "... he's making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's naughty or nice..." It didn't sit well with me. I have never liked that aspect of the Santa tradition, promoting the idea that he only brings toys to good little girls and boys. Maybe it is because of the disgust I once felt overhearing a mother shopping near me use this to get her misbehaving son's attention, and it was only July. I figured it would be a long year for them if this was all she had up her sleeve. Or maybe it is because in my blended and confused mind I like to equate Santa Claus a little more with his Saintly origins and a little less with his commercial appeal.

It occurred to me then that even though my daughter didn't deserve her Christmas gift, I still wanted to give it to her. Because I love her. I love her so much that I still want to give her good gifts, even when she absolutely doesn't deserve them. Isn't that what the first Christmas was all about?

Not a single one of us deserves the many gifts we have been given. Maybe thinking that we do is one of the bigger problems with society today.

The greatest gift the world has ever known was wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger, though its people were wretchedly undeserving. It was because the world had not earned it and would never ever be good enough to deserve such a gift by following rules that this baby was sent to earth to close the gap between what we deserve and what God wants to give us. That is love.

On Christmas morning I wanted to give my headstrong children good gifts that represent the vast and deep love in my heart for them. How much more does God love us? I didn't want to be like Santa for my children, I wanted to be like Jesus.

Excerpts from Psalm 89:

I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever;

with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known

through all generations.

I will declare that your love stands firm forever,

that you have established your faithfulness in heaven itself...

If his sons forsake my law 

and do not follow my statutes,

if they violate my decrees

and fail to keep my commands,

I will punish their sin with the rod,

their iniquity with flogging;

but I will not take my love from him,

nor will I ever betray my faithfulness.

Psalm 89:1,2,30-33

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I might be a few days late here, posting my final thoughts on Advent. But it is still December and still feels like Christmas in our home. This has been a personal first for me to follow through on a 4-week series, and it has been an encouraging exercise and challenge during an otherwise highly committed season. I was forced to process and articulate my thoughts on the hope, peace, joy, and now love that the coming of Jesus Christ brought to earth with His birth. Thank you for joining me!

*******************

joy {advent}

One of the things I love best about the Christmas season is that we don't have to look very far to find joy this time of year. It seems to be all around us... in the excited faces of children, in the extra creativity of teachers planning Christmas fun, in parties and music and special events, even in the smiles of the clerks hired as holiday help that seem to be slowing down the checkout lines, though pleasantly at least. There is a bustle and buzz of enjoyment leading up to Christmas, and in general people make an effort to show some cheer.

On the other hand, the older I get, the more aware I am of the joy-stealers all around me. Whether it is difficult people or difficult circumstances, there is always something lurking in the shadows that will worry away my joy. The mounting obligations of the season only make it worse. Even simple good intentions like buying the right gifts for others, and mailing items off on time, and fretting over the equality of gift distribution among family members only contribute to stealing the joy I want to have in giving those gifts.

Joy shouldn’t be so transient, coming and going from faces at the drop of a glass ornament. When our joy comes from the truth about who Jesus Christ is then no unfortunate circumstance or unhealthy interaction with a friend or unhappy experience in an overcrowded department store can steal our joy. It becomes a lasting kind of joy grounded in truth that doesn't change. That is the power of joy in Jesus Christ.

The Christmas story in the book of Luke features a song of joyful praise sung by Mary the mother of Jesus (Luke 1:46-55). Mary had much to worry about, arguably much more than I do. She found herself pregnant but not married in a time when that did not happen to good girls from good families. She was living in a period in history when God’s people had been waiting an awfully long time for their Savior to come, and wondered at the legitimacy of what they had been promised.

Mary chose to believe, and out of it bubbles a joyful song of praise to God, despite the most unlikely circumstances. Mary has a joyful response in the face of hardship. She felt fearful, troubled, and very alone, but her joy overflows as an act of faith in God and His promises. Mary made an active choice to believe God is who He says He is despite the number of questions, despite her unseen future, and despite the circumstances that threatened her reality.

Joy is not a feeling the way that happiness is. We don't have to feel joyful in order to choose joy. Joy in Jesus comes out of a deep rooted belief that something better is coming. All of the hardships, the discomfort, the challenges, the trials of many kind, are not the end of the story. Despite our circumstances, we can have joy in God’s glorious plan. 

I believe you, Lord. If this is your plan, then I want to be a part of it. Even if my life ends up really hard, I'm in! Whatever today brings, I choose joy.

Mary's Song of Praise (Luke 1:46-55)

Mary responded,
"Oh how my soul praises the Lord.
     How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!
For he took notice of his lowly servant girl,
     and from now on all generations will call me blessed.
For the Mighty One is holy,
     and he has done great things for me to all who fear him.
His mighty arm has done tremendous things!
     He has scattered the proud and haughty ones.
He has brought down princes from their thrones
     and exalted the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
     and sent the rich away with empty hands.
He has helped his servant Israel
     and remembered to be merciful.
For he made this promise to our ancestors,
     to Abraham and his children forever.
He shows mercy generation to generation."

Luke 1:46-55 (New Living Translation)

(For the other advent posts in this series see HOPE and PEACE.)

peace {advent}

It's our first Christmas in our new home and my husband's outdoor project of late has been cutting back some of the brush on a downward sloping part our property. When the kids and I started campaigning one morning to go pick out our Christmas tree, he told us simply to come outside with him. We threw coats on top of our pjs and marched out into the yard, somewhat unceremoniously. He'd been saving one of the little pine trees just for Christmas.

In the yard it looked cute, maybe a bit lanky but otherwise healthy and the right size. The kids were so excited about cutting down a tree in our very own yard and then dragging it into the house. Except for Sommer who was having a grumpy moment.  Fortunately, we were at home and she had the luxury of staying inside (or rather, we had the luxury of leaving her inside.)

How is it that these trees always look so different outside? I believe it grew 4 more feet once we set it up in our open stairwell. We then proceeded to decorate the tallest, saddest little Christmas tree we have ever had. I am calling it the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree on steroids. How can a tree this size only have three branches for hanging lights and ornaments? It took me nearly an hour to get lights hung convincingly, and I don't even want to mention the bald spot. Then the tree was misbehaving, leaning in an awkward direction, until it finally fell over 2 days later. It is now tied to the banister.

The tree keeps whacking me in the face, as it has gradually encroached on my regularly used path through the entryway. It is not my favorite tree ever, but it seems to represent something true about Christmas. There is a lot of childlike joy inspiring this tree, and a fun memory, and the onset of tradition. Christmas has never been about perfection.

I was prone to some unsettled feelings this week. There weren't any big reasons, just some strained conversations, unpredictable futures, uncertain outcomes, inability to please certain people in my life. All of these niggling in the back of my mind even when I wasn't consciously in thought over them. All of them making me aware of how much my little world lacks perfection. All of those little imperfections creating a lack of peace in my spirit.

Peace was this week's advent theme. In my reading, the peace of Christ took on a new meaning for me as the kind of peace that is independent of our circumstances. It is the kind of peace that bleeds into the unsettled corners of our lives even when the world around us seems to be falling apart and there is nothing we can do to control it. The kind of peace that surpasses all understanding.

We hear a lot about Peace on Earth at Christmas, and I want that for our world so badly. This is a place with some big problems, like genocide and child trafficking and terrorism just to name a few. Because of it, real Peace on Earth can seem pretty far away. We have been promised that one day that kind of peace is coming. There will be a future world without so many external struggles.

In the meantime, today, we can experience a different kind of internal peace. God offers us the kind of peace that comes from wholeness and harmony and completeness in Him. The kind that allows us to make tough decisions that others don't necessarily agree with, and still have peace knowing that we have followed after Him to the best of our ability. Seeking peace through the perfection of our circumstances will never be long-lasting. Peace comes through righteousness, and righteousness can only come through Christ.

In preparing for the birth of baby Jesus, I am thanking God for the kind of peace we get to experience today, even as we wait for a better kind of Peace in our future.

"And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace
    there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
    and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
    with justice and righteousness

from that time on and forever."

Isaiah 9:6-7

hope {advent}

Every year as December rolls around I find myself wishing I had gotten started earlier on the decorating, the gift-buying, the baking, the added elements that make the weeks leading up to Christmas seem full of crazy instead of full of peace.

Something jarred me this week in an article about all of the misdirected frenzy this time of year. That phrase ..."misdirected frenzy"... it gave me a sharp pin prick way down deep. I feel the frenzy coming, and I don't want any of it to be misdirected, especially this time of year.

The word "advent" means an arrival or coming, especially a much anticipated one. This season leading into Christmas is called Advent because we have something wonderful to anticipate, and need to be disciplined about remembering to expectantly await its arrival. Nothing could have changed the world more than the arrival of Jesus Christ.

For the first time I signed up for a daily Advent email to help make the month leading up to Christmas more intentionally focused on the scriptures that speak of the coming of Jesus. There must be a ton of different ways you can do this, but I subscribed to the series at IF:equip. IF is a movement by some key Christian female leaders to provide tools for women to grow Spiritually and to live out their full potential in Christ. Their Advent series of emails basically provides a theme for the week and daily passages of scripture including old testament, psalms, new testament, and gospel passages within the theme. A simple (and free!) way to dedicate some intentionality toward Advent.

I rarely articulate goals for posting here, in fear that I won't actually be able to follow through on my best intentions. However, as a form of accountability for myself, at the end of each week I intend to post a few reflections on the chosen Advent theme .

This week's theme was HOPE.

Hope is what prevents us from being overcome by complete despair over the broken world we live in. Hope is the life we cling to in the midst of the death and destruction all around. Hope is the belief that our tragedies will lead to something glorious and beautiful. Hope is the promise that we will not be stuck in our own junk forever, but will one day have the power to change... if we keep clinging to that Hope.

The ancient Jews hoped in this kind of salvation, that would come from a Messiah. They waited for the advent of their King, in expectant anticipation. Just as we wait, still, in the hope that this life we are living here on earth has a greater purpose than we can know. Hope is a life-giving gift amidst hurt and devastation.

When I am focusing on the blessed promise of Hope, and the much awaited Advent of Jesus, there isn't any room for my misdirected frenzy.

"...and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence.

They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.

For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,
and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Revelation 7:15-17

a day of thanksgiving

I sat in on my daughter's preschool Thanksgiving feast last week. The teacher so graciously told the 4-year-olds that we always have something to be thankful for. Even when someone wrongs us, by taking our toy for example. We can still be thankful. We can be thankful for the many other toys that are around. We can be thankful that we have friends we can play with instead. We can be thankful that we have creative imaginations and don't need toys to have fun. There is always something to be thankful for.

Adults could learn a lot from that preschool lesson. I found myself thinking about the cultural practice of thanksgiving, and wondering if children everywhere are learning to be thankful when someone takes their toy. If they are, then we should have a whole culture full of grateful hearts.

My husband and I were watching a PBS show last night on the first pilgrims that colonized Massachusetts, in honor of the Thanksgiving holiday of course. Apparently, it was a regular practice for the pilgrims to declare a day of Thanksgiving, especially after a particularly hard season. The first Thanksgiving is the one we think about when the Pilgrims and the Indians shared a meal together. The second one happened two years later after a hard drought.

Several of our early presidents, starting with George Washington, declared days of Thanksgiving. It was Abraham Lincoln who proclaimed a national Thanksgiving Day to celebrate the unity of the states in the midst of a nation weary of civil war.

What struck me is the regularity found in our cultural history to declare a day to celebrate, rest, feast, and practice the art of thankfulness together. Maybe I sound cynical, but I just can't imagine any of our modern presidents taking it upon themselves to declare a day for the nation to remember to be thankful. If it wasn't already built into the holiday schedule that is.

I am not convinced that the value of thankfulness is at the very heart of American culture... but I want it to be. I will start by making it a core value in our own home. May my children's natural response to the end of a hard season be to declare a time of thanksgiving.

Today I am thankful for modern medicine and wise doctors. This past month was a rough one, between a bad strain of croup that sent two of my little ones to urgent care in need of care at inconvenient time, and my own wisdom teeth that left me in severe pain or fighting a developed infection for weeks, I am thankful for the medicine we have available in the 21st century because I honestly don't know what a poor mother was to do a hundred years ago.

Today I am thankful that our home is a place of respite, filled with peace. There is warmth and joy in this place and I don't feel fearful about where I live.

Today I am thankful for days spent with small children because it is a luxury. These days sometimes feel shrouded in monotony and death to my personal dreams, but I have already begun to see the benefits to my family and must be intentional about viewing these days at home as a privilege. God takes my life away, but more and more it feels He is actually giving it back.

Today I am thankful for the community that helps me raise my children. From loving grandparents, aunts, and uncles, to teachers and other parents who school my children, to friends who think my kids are special because of all the ways they are unique and not out of obligation to me. It truly takes a village.

Today I am thankful that my children love Jesus to the best of their understanding and ability. My middle child is sassy and bossy, and she needs Jesus. My oldest doesn't share well and is consumed by holding tightly to her things, and she needs Jesus. My youngest has a stubborn streak I am not sure I can parent on my own, and he needs Jesus. Thank you, Jesus, that you are going to be doing the hardest work on their hearts.

Today I am thankful for my spouse and the ways he brings balance to who I am. He is a dreamer in ways that I am not. He pushes me to give more in some areas while stepping back in others. He challenges me to work harder and rest better. He offers words of praise and appreciation freely and is present with our children. He continues to surprise me with his understanding of the purpose of this life and the important components of having a good quality of life.

Today I am thankful for the tiny glimpses I get to see in the role God has for me in His kingdom. I believe that for the sake of our own humility that much of how we impact the kingdom of God will remain hidden. But God like to crack a window open periodically to encourage us to press on in this hard work of loving others and being bold in the truth. I am thankful for the little peek I get to see through the window today.

Today I am thankful for the painful, unhappy, awkward parts of my journey because they have made me who I am, and because they are still chipping away at me like a chisel in the hands of the Master Sculptor.

Today I am even thankful for the weather. California has been in a devastating drought, and we fell asleep to the sound of rain in the night. Every drop is a gift from above.

Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord;  let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.

Let us come before Him with thanksgiving...

Psalm 95:1-2

Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise;

give thanks to Him and praise His name.

For the Lord is good and His love endures forever;

His faithfulness continues though all generations.

Psalm 100:4-5

Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 5:17

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His love endures forever.

Psalm 136:1

too many cooks

When I went to tuck my seven year old into bed one night, she asked me sweetly, "How did you learn to cook so well?"

I stifled the urge to laugh out loud. Because she was serious. Even though she doesn't eat at least half of what I cook.

She then proceeded to tell me that she thinks she needs to start learning some recipes and practicing cooking meals so that she will be able to take care of her own family one day. Big stuff.

Sure enough, the next evening during dinner preparation she pulled up the small chair we use as a stool to the kitchen counter and announced that she wanted to help me. Two other little people saw what was happening and went to get their chairs too. Suddenly I had three quite incompetent cooks "helping" me during the pre-dinner madness hour with a meal not designed for little hands.

For them, this was clearly way better than the PBS show I had just put on television intended to occupy them while I made dinner. For me, it was one of the most stressful 15 minutes of my life.

There was a sizzling pan on the stove and my 2-year-old kept grabbing the knife. The 4-year-old was hungry, so helping mostly involved snacking on pieces of food that looked interesting to her, and pushing her brother off of his chair. The 7-year-old genuinely wanted me to teach her how to cook at this very moment and it could not wait.

The panic was rising in my chest at the chaos of it all and I had to make a choice: shout telling them all to get out because I really just want to be alone for a few minutes so I could concentrate on getting my starving family fed,
or...
let them help.

Pasting on my smile and my most believable calm face, I had the distinct sense that what they were learning in this moment was less about the actual "how to" of cooking, and more about an overall attitude toward being the kitchen.

To be honest, I don't always have the best attitude about cooking, mostly because it comes around so darn often. I feel largely that I live in a world of women who love to cook... but I am not one of those women. It is frustrating when 30 minutes of preparation time translates to only 7 minutes of actual eating time. And another 30 minutes of clean up. I do enjoy occasional baking because treats are always optional. They can be made when I feel like it, and when I don't, no one is going to have a hunger meltdown. Cooking dinner is an entirely different kind of mandate.

Another part of the problem is that I don't feel that good at cooking, or efficient at piecing together a meal. I have only recently begun to do more of it in an effort to get my growing family to eat well. In our beginning years of marriage we went out to eat regularly, and I made an embarrassing amount of macaroni and cheese from the box. In college I thought I was cooking healthy when I microwaved a "Lean Pocket" instead of the more fattening "Hot Pocket". Before that, I was too busy with school, or too uninterested, to learn.

I have to be careful about how these feelings towards the kitchen are unintentionally communicated to the little copycats I am raising. In the end, I don't cook for my family because I always love cooking, or because I love getting under the table to wipe up the crumbs for the 3rd time in a day, or because I love seeing what I cooked sit untouched on a child's plate. I cook out of a sacred sense of duty and responsibility to my family. They have been entrusted to me, and it is a privilege to always have enough food in the pantry to feed them.

Letting my children help in the kitchen is more than just a fun way to kill some creative time. It is part of my responsibility to them. These little people are the next generation of caretakers for their own families. They need training in the skills and the attitudes for doing that well. It wasn't exactly convenient for me, but I had an open invitation from my children to train them up in the way they should go.

Kids have a small window of years when they think helping is actually fun. Ironically, it is these same young years when they are not that helpful. Oddly, I don't believe that means we are not to let them help. Instead it reminds me to stuff down my goal-oriented plans for getting dinner made at lightning speed and instead allow a messier kitchen, a delayed meal time, and a lot more noise, in order to plant a seed of helpfulness. The skills are not yet there, but the opportunity to train up an attitude is.

Keeping people fed is almost a full time job around here, and I could use some help. These little hands are the servants of the future. It starts right here in my kitchen.

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

Proverbs 22:6