“Are you ready for Christmas?”
It’s one of the common questions of the season. A friendly conversation starter. Yet I’ve noticed that the answer usually is directed toward gift lists and shopping.
Implying that if we have made our list of gift recipients (and checked it twice!), completed our shopping, wrapped and labeled our presents…then we are truly ready for Christmas.
Yet isn’t being ready for Christmas less about giving gifts…
…and more about receiving the ultimate Gift?
The gift of a God’s incredible, redeeming love in sending His Son to become one of us, to live among us—and to die for us.
Wow.
I think this is one time when it's better to receive than to give.
Lord, help me to prepare in this final week of Advent, to be truly ready for Christmas. To not get distracted by the world’s requirements for a perfect holiday, but to focus on what You desire of me. To set aside time from preparing gifts, goodies, and activities so that I may prepare my heart to receive You once again this Christmas.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
God-With-Us
I happily cruised along the snowy roads on my way home from work this afternoon, having unexpected extra time from getting off early. Just as I was driving down a hill, I noticed a school bus ahead with its red lights flashing. Mildly annoyed, I slowed and prepared to stop.
And then I noticed the wheelchair lift appearing from the side of the bus. The young girl who appeared to have cerebral palsy, helpless as the mechanics gently lowered her to the ground. The dad, meeting her in the cold and snow, to bring her back into the safety and warmth of their home. He stood for a moment talking to the bus driver.
And I no longer cared that I had to wait.
Earlier in the day a woman sat down in the chair next to me in the doctor’s office, one of many patients that morning. She turned to me and shared that her sister’s heart stopped while driving last week. That she is on life support and not responding well. They’re ready to pull the plug, she said. But she looked at me with hopeful eyes as she mentioned that they saw a little improvement yesterday, just a tiny movement, a glimmer of a response.
And I remembered how fragile and precious is life.
The Christmases of these two families won’t be like the picture-perfect holidays I keep seeing on the TV commercials. But I have a feeling there will be a supernatural thread of grace woven through them that is missing from the superficial media ideals.
A Scrooge could look at their situations and question if God is in the midst. And because I am not in the exact situations, I don’t know how I would react to those crosses. But on the outside looking in, I see God there. I see Him in the love the father showed his handicapped daughter. I see Him in the miracle of the doctor who just happened to be in the car ahead of the patient’s sister, who performed CPR while waiting on the rescue squad.
When trials come, sometimes we wonder if God is really in the midst of it all. But things aren’t always the way they appear. He is there if we have the eyes to see. Always loving, always comforting, always caring and working in ways unseen.
Just as long ago He was in the midst of a stable—where things definitely weren’t the way they appeared. Who would have thought a baby in a manger could be the Savior of the world?
Emmanuel. God-with-us, indeed.
And then I noticed the wheelchair lift appearing from the side of the bus. The young girl who appeared to have cerebral palsy, helpless as the mechanics gently lowered her to the ground. The dad, meeting her in the cold and snow, to bring her back into the safety and warmth of their home. He stood for a moment talking to the bus driver.
And I no longer cared that I had to wait.
Earlier in the day a woman sat down in the chair next to me in the doctor’s office, one of many patients that morning. She turned to me and shared that her sister’s heart stopped while driving last week. That she is on life support and not responding well. They’re ready to pull the plug, she said. But she looked at me with hopeful eyes as she mentioned that they saw a little improvement yesterday, just a tiny movement, a glimmer of a response.
And I remembered how fragile and precious is life.
The Christmases of these two families won’t be like the picture-perfect holidays I keep seeing on the TV commercials. But I have a feeling there will be a supernatural thread of grace woven through them that is missing from the superficial media ideals.
A Scrooge could look at their situations and question if God is in the midst. And because I am not in the exact situations, I don’t know how I would react to those crosses. But on the outside looking in, I see God there. I see Him in the love the father showed his handicapped daughter. I see Him in the miracle of the doctor who just happened to be in the car ahead of the patient’s sister, who performed CPR while waiting on the rescue squad.
When trials come, sometimes we wonder if God is really in the midst of it all. But things aren’t always the way they appear. He is there if we have the eyes to see. Always loving, always comforting, always caring and working in ways unseen.
Just as long ago He was in the midst of a stable—where things definitely weren’t the way they appeared. Who would have thought a baby in a manger could be the Savior of the world?
Emmanuel. God-with-us, indeed.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Joy to the world, the Lord is coming.
My quiet mornings with the Lord are now accompanied by three flickering tealights in the Advent wreath. How quickly the time passes—only one more candle to light.
Week three of Advent focuses on joy. Not a superficial, temporary happiness, but a deep, abiding joy. A joy that is rooted in the gift of a Child that was born to save us from our sins. Of a God who loves His children so much that He became one of us to redeem us, to teach us, to heal us. A joy that glows steadily throughout the ups and downs we experience because we hold onto these truths.
Sometimes I take for granted the joy of knowing Jesus. Of the faith I was born into and now claim as my own. The comfort of His promises when life is uncertain.
Until I meet someone who does not share that belief.
As I listened to a dear friend share some very painful circumstances with me recently, I was heartbroken to hear her express doubt in the Bible and the Church. To hear her wondering about the afterlife. I cried with her for the hurt she is experiencing, but I also was devastated to think of her lacking the comfort and hope that God’s promises give. To see her searching yet denying the very thing that gives meaning and purpose when life doesn’t make sense. I pray that God will reach out to her in this time of darkness and that He will help me do the same.
As I pondered our conversation the next morning, I realized anew the incredible gift of the Savior, of the Church He gave, and of His daily graces. As Christmas nears, my heart is filled with humble gratitude for this gift.
And for receiving it not only at Christmas, but every day.
What a reason to rejoice.
Week three of Advent focuses on joy. Not a superficial, temporary happiness, but a deep, abiding joy. A joy that is rooted in the gift of a Child that was born to save us from our sins. Of a God who loves His children so much that He became one of us to redeem us, to teach us, to heal us. A joy that glows steadily throughout the ups and downs we experience because we hold onto these truths.
Sometimes I take for granted the joy of knowing Jesus. Of the faith I was born into and now claim as my own. The comfort of His promises when life is uncertain.
Until I meet someone who does not share that belief.
As I listened to a dear friend share some very painful circumstances with me recently, I was heartbroken to hear her express doubt in the Bible and the Church. To hear her wondering about the afterlife. I cried with her for the hurt she is experiencing, but I also was devastated to think of her lacking the comfort and hope that God’s promises give. To see her searching yet denying the very thing that gives meaning and purpose when life doesn’t make sense. I pray that God will reach out to her in this time of darkness and that He will help me do the same.
As I pondered our conversation the next morning, I realized anew the incredible gift of the Savior, of the Church He gave, and of His daily graces. As Christmas nears, my heart is filled with humble gratitude for this gift.
And for receiving it not only at Christmas, but every day.
What a reason to rejoice.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Be Merry
"Be merry, really merry. The life of a true Christian should be a perpetual jubilee, a prelude to the festivals of eternity."
-St. Theophane Venard
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Uprooting Pride, Part 2
In November, I posted about the underlying pride and perfectionism in my prayer to not make a mistake.
As a recovering perfectionist, my new prayer is: "Lord, help me not to make a mistake...unless You will be glorified by my mistake."
Because the fact is, God can and does use our mistakes and our brokenness to glorify Him, to point to His power, healing, and perfection (His power is made perfect in our weakness--2 Corinthians 12:9). He can use our mistakes and brokenness to pull others into His embrace who may have once thought they were too flawed to be accepted. Without mistakes, sin and brokenness, there would be no need for a Savior.
And who could ever say that?
I recently heard the point that we are like a Pharisee when we focus more being perfect than on God's forgiving love. How true and how convicting. We are focusing on ourselves rather than God. (One of my favorite definitions of humility: "Humility is not thinking less of yourself-- but thinking of yourself less.")
There's a beautiful humility in acknowleding our need for Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. A humility in admitting that no matter how much we love Christ and want to follow Him, we are frail humans who fall short and make mistakes and even sin against Him.
But even more beautiful than acknowledging our need for Him is actually receiving His forgiveness, receiving His unconditional love, and allowing Him to bring good from the messiness and imperfection in our lives.
The third week of Advent begins today. Let's continue to root out the pride in our hearts to make room for the coming Savior, admitting our frailty and need for Him in our lives every single day.
As a recovering perfectionist, my new prayer is: "Lord, help me not to make a mistake...unless You will be glorified by my mistake."
Because the fact is, God can and does use our mistakes and our brokenness to glorify Him, to point to His power, healing, and perfection (His power is made perfect in our weakness--2 Corinthians 12:9). He can use our mistakes and brokenness to pull others into His embrace who may have once thought they were too flawed to be accepted. Without mistakes, sin and brokenness, there would be no need for a Savior.
And who could ever say that?
I recently heard the point that we are like a Pharisee when we focus more being perfect than on God's forgiving love. How true and how convicting. We are focusing on ourselves rather than God. (One of my favorite definitions of humility: "Humility is not thinking less of yourself-- but thinking of yourself less.")
There's a beautiful humility in acknowleding our need for Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. A humility in admitting that no matter how much we love Christ and want to follow Him, we are frail humans who fall short and make mistakes and even sin against Him.
But even more beautiful than acknowledging our need for Him is actually receiving His forgiveness, receiving His unconditional love, and allowing Him to bring good from the messiness and imperfection in our lives.
The third week of Advent begins today. Let's continue to root out the pride in our hearts to make room for the coming Savior, admitting our frailty and need for Him in our lives every single day.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Another Recipe: Chocolate Chip Cookie Pie
As much as I like healthy eating, I confess to splurging at times in the sweets category. This is one of those times. Can a dessert get any better than one that mixes chocolate chip cookies with pie?
I think not.
I took this to a potluck recently and when I went to get myself a slice, it was gone. (But I did get to try a bite of my brother's piece!)
Chocolate Chip Cookie Pie
submitted by Ann Hess to Come on Over, a Gooseberry Patch cookbook (one of my favorite cookbook series!!)
2 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup softened butter
1/2 cup flour
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup nuts (optional)
9-inch pie crust
Cream the eggs, sugars, and butter. Add the flour and mix well. Stir in the chocolate chips and nuts, if using. Spread batter in the unbaked pie crust. Bake at 325* for 1 hour or until the center is done.
If you're really letting loose, serve warm with ice cream. :)
I think not.
I took this to a potluck recently and when I went to get myself a slice, it was gone. (But I did get to try a bite of my brother's piece!)
Chocolate Chip Cookie Pie
submitted by Ann Hess to Come on Over, a Gooseberry Patch cookbook (one of my favorite cookbook series!!)
2 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup softened butter
1/2 cup flour
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup nuts (optional)
9-inch pie crust
Cream the eggs, sugars, and butter. Add the flour and mix well. Stir in the chocolate chips and nuts, if using. Spread batter in the unbaked pie crust. Bake at 325* for 1 hour or until the center is done.
If you're really letting loose, serve warm with ice cream. :)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Welcome, Advent
As I snuggle under a fleecy snowflake blanket in my cozy chair, devotionals in my lap and a cup of tea in my hand, I watch the single candle flickering in the darkness. Three more will join it as the weeks go by.
It is the beginning of Advent.
Amid the crazy and lively fun of baking, decorating, and singing around the holidays, I love the hushed calm of Advent. The Church season of waiting and preparing. The season that says, 'Something wonderful is coming and you must prepare-- not by hustling and bustling but by being still and quieting your heart. Prepare Him room.'
So we prepare. And we wait.
Waiting is not one of my favorite things. I like to be doing something. Accomplishing something. Moving forward. Yet Advent teaches me that waiting can be beautiful.
In the spiritual life, waiting is not empty or stagnant. God wants our waiting to be purposeful and full of promise and hope.
Life holds so many opportunities to wait. And in an instant gratification culture, we often don't embrace those opportunties. We look at them with contempt, frustration, and restlessness. Even in Christian circles, we struggle with waiting on God's timing. Waiting for the end, the prize, the blessing.
But what if the blessing is in the waiting itself?
We don't always choose to wait. But we can choose to wait with hearts full of hope, not empty and restless hearts. We can focus on using today to prepare for tomorrow. We can quiet our souls and open them to God, asking Him to change us while we wait. To hold onto the hope of His promises when we cannot see ahead.
"When we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." (Romans 8:25)
Be still, my soul. Make room, my heart. Grow closer to your Savior in the waiting so that you recognize Him in the coming.
It is the beginning of Advent.
Amid the crazy and lively fun of baking, decorating, and singing around the holidays, I love the hushed calm of Advent. The Church season of waiting and preparing. The season that says, 'Something wonderful is coming and you must prepare-- not by hustling and bustling but by being still and quieting your heart. Prepare Him room.'
So we prepare. And we wait.
Waiting is not one of my favorite things. I like to be doing something. Accomplishing something. Moving forward. Yet Advent teaches me that waiting can be beautiful.
In the spiritual life, waiting is not empty or stagnant. God wants our waiting to be purposeful and full of promise and hope.
Life holds so many opportunities to wait. And in an instant gratification culture, we often don't embrace those opportunties. We look at them with contempt, frustration, and restlessness. Even in Christian circles, we struggle with waiting on God's timing. Waiting for the end, the prize, the blessing.
But what if the blessing is in the waiting itself?
We don't always choose to wait. But we can choose to wait with hearts full of hope, not empty and restless hearts. We can focus on using today to prepare for tomorrow. We can quiet our souls and open them to God, asking Him to change us while we wait. To hold onto the hope of His promises when we cannot see ahead.
"When we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." (Romans 8:25)
Be still, my soul. Make room, my heart. Grow closer to your Savior in the waiting so that you recognize Him in the coming.
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