Todays’s thought comes from James 1:17: Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
For some reason this morning I started singing the old hymn, Give of Your Best to the Master.
It is the season for giving gifts.
Buying gifts when the girls were young and we were foster parents was not something I enjoyed. Do I sound like Scrooge?
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to give gifts. I just hated the way the kids counted their presents and made sure there was equity for all.
I dreaded hearing their pronouncement of: It’s not fair s/he got more than me.
Sigh. Like it was some kind of competition.
I don’t think I ever liked the gift giving part of Christmas. For so many years I was disappointed after not receiving the gifts I truly had my heart set on. I quit asking for things.
What would happen if we boycotted the whole gift giving insanity?
The best “gifts” my children ever gave me were the coupon booklets that they proudly (or forced) made in school. There were coupons for cleaning their room, or doing the dishes without being asked. They were the kinds of things that cost no money but demonstrated love and care.
They were gifts of time.
The best gifts are like that. They are gifts of time, of touch…of you.
Who could you give the gift of you to this Christmas?
You know who gave you the best gift, don’t you? He gave himself. Pretty good example to follow.
This morning I was singing along with the radio when the Rudolph song came on. And I got stuck on how the other reindeers wouldn’t let Rudolph play because he was different…weird.
I get Rudolph. I get how that must have hurt.
I am in Arizona visiting my mom. While we are together we play Scrabble practically non-stop. In the week that I have been here we have played over 50 games. We laugh and talk, philosophize, and try to solve the ills of mankind.
We often say that you can learn a lot about life from the game of Scrabble. You have to wait your turn. It helps to be flexible when someone takes the place you were about to play your hundred point word. There are times when you win and there are times you lose–but it’s all about playing the game.
I play Scrabble because I enjoy it. That’s why I play any of the games I play. It’s for fun. But it isn’t that way for everyone.
You know the kind of folks I’m talking about. Their face has probably popped into your mind’s eye. They are cut-throat. They can’t loose. They sandbag. They count cards. Winning is everything. It’s like a drug for them. And the worst thing is that they make you feel less than worthless when you lose.
Worse than Rudolph.
So what do games have to do with Advent…other than they make for a great Christmas gift?
It has a lot to do with how we treat people. In one of my favorite books, The Red Sea Rules, one of the lessons from the account of the Hebrews crossing the Red Sea is that it’s not always about us. God put them in that place, in that time, for his glory to be revealed. Jesus picks up on this when he raises Lazurus.
It’s not always about us.
One time I had the joy of playing Scrabble with my former choir director. She was in an assisted living situation and her memory was not what it once was. I could have easily ran the score up–but what purpose would it have served? What mattered was the time we could share together.
It is so easy to get focused on ourselves: where we need to be, what we need to do, and what is important and urgent for us. To say this affects how we “play the game” of life is quite an understatement.
Take stock of your attitude and relationality. A wise mentor gave me a good guide to go by for this: would you rather be right or related? Can you let someone else win the game?
Watching my mom fix brekfast this morning I realized her predictable ways are very comforting to me.
This revelation came as I watched her open a can of pineapple. She opened the can over the sink–just in case there was spiilage. Then she set it on the counter, on a washcloth she had laid there to catch any drips.
That’s how she is: always thinking ahead…anticipating need.
As I sat there watching, I actually thought about how much that’s like God. Remember he’s the great shepherd who provide for our very need. He is always one step ahead of us, anticipating not only what we need, but also the messes we might make.
Then I began to think about the implications of that for Advent and the whole no room in the inn thing. It was no mistake the Mary and Joseph delivered God’s son in a stable, because if God had wanted he could have made room in the inn.
God anticipated their need and provided. Jesus wasn’t born along the road in the middle of the night. No, he was born in a stable out of the elements and with a cradle of sorts.
Sometimes God’s ways confuse me. Both then and now. But they also bring bring me comfort. God anticipates my every need and though he takes m edown paths I don’t understand I know he does indeed lead me where I need to be.
And I don’t know about your life but he has always been faithful to stay right by me as we put the pieces back together. He wastes nothing…even using the messes I have made.
So as you sing carols about the comfort of God, remember that comfort may not come as you expect or want it, but it will come. You willhave exactly what you need.
Have you ever wondered why God doesn’t break through the clouds with an angel chorus to get our attention with what he needs to say?
How cool is it that Zechariah, Joseph, Mary, and the Shepherds all got a direct and very specific message from God?!
But why not me God?
I mean, how much heartache, seemingly wasted time, problems, pain, and suffering could be avoided if instead “guessing” what it might be that God wants us to do, we had explicit direction.
I think it might be linked to that angel thing. Stay with me on this.
Every time an angel brought a message, the first thing they had to do was tell the recipient to not be afraid. Angels must not be those cutesy things we hang on our walls or put on our cards at Christmas. They must be scarey. It cold be their appearance–if you read about them in Isaiah, this makes sense. But it could also be that when angels brought a message from God, the people knew that something was going to be required of them. Life was going to change. And we all know how much we like that!
So we’ve made a pact to listen more this Advent season. Listen, believing that God has something to say. But how might he do it?
Hebrews 13:2 may give us some help with this. The writer admonishes us to offer hospitality to strangers because we never know when we might be welcoming an angel without knowing it.
Now those “strangers” may not knock on our door. They may be ringing the Salvation Army bell. They might be standing in the line in front of us at Walmart or the grocery. Perhaps they will sit next to us at church or the table near us at Denny’s. If we have our “God ears” (a concept developed by my friend Ginger Harrington–look up her stuff it’s really good!) we might just hear a word from God.
No fanfare or sparkly choir needed. Just open hears and an open heart. God has something to say–don’t miss it because it comes dressed as a stranger.
On a recent flight to Arizona to visit my mom, I sat behind two twenty something men. For the entire two hour flight they spent the time talking. Well, not just talking. They were talking loudly, but it wasn’t just the volume that was annoying. No. Their conversation consisted of a continuous one-up-man-ship. I finally put my headphones on so I wouldn’t have to listen.
Have you been around people who just talk to talk? They say very little that seems important, but they have such a need to say it.
One of the parts of the Christmas story that has always intrigued me involves Zechariah and the Angel. The Angel comes with some really good news and instead of accepting it, Zechariah choses to question the Angel: How? And for that he is silenced until after the baby is born.
There obviously is a time to speak and a time to listen. Did you know the word “listen” occurs 506 times in the Bible (according to biblegateway.com and the NIV)? Jesus made several of those references: Let the one who has ears hear.
Last time I checked, that’s just about everybody.
We have helped raise our grandson. I find myself often telling him to stop talking. His constant jibber or rebuttle during correction is not good. Often if he would just stop talking he would avoid trouble. The only times he has moved down on the behavior scale at school have been because he was talking when he shouldn’t.
Picture with me what it would be like if we did less talking this Advent. What would it be like if we listened more? Listened to each other…to God.
We might actually understand why God through the Psalmist instructed us to: Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)
When I think of Mary and Joseph I am struck by their willingness to participate in God’s drama as it unfolded.
First, consider Joseph. In Matthew’s account, Joseph nearly steps out of the story. From a cultural perspective, he was well within his rights to do so. To chose not to would go against everything that was expected of him. But God sends an angel and we read in Matthew 1:24 how Joseph awoke and obeyed what the angel commanded.
He didn’t have to, but he was willing.
Then we have Mary. A young girl. Betrothed. An angel appears to her and tells her what is about to happen. We’re told that Mary was troubled by the very presence and greeting of the angel. The angel tells her not to be afraid and then gives her the plan.
What amazes me is that she doesn’t even question him. Her response: I’m your servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.
What is God asking of you? Does it seem too big? Are you frightened of the consequences? Does it fly in the face of convention and expectation? If so, you are in good company.
What he did for Mary and Joseph, he will do for: he will be with you every step of the way!
An old saying that has proven true in my own life seems to fit here: God’s will won’t take you where his grace can’t keep you.
My life used to be much fuller. I worked two full-time jobs. I had two teenage daughters. I was a wife. I tried to keep house. For a while we also added foster children to that mix.
Life was busy. Full of things. Broad, but not deep. My motto might have been, “so much to do, so little time.” That is if I had stopped long enough to consider a motto.
Life has swiftly moved on. My daughters are now mothers–both over thirty. The movement has been a journey and a process. In the process, I have slowed down. And as a result, life is richer. I find moments to be treasure-worthy. It’s not all good, but it’s good.
Earlier in my life, when I read the Christmas story and came upon the phrase: in the fullness of time, I took it to mean full in the sense of crammed to the brim–and I lived my life accordingly.
I was wrong.
The phrase means: when the time was right, or ripe.
I don’t fully understand what made that time “right” in God’s eyes. What I do know is in my own life, God is never early nor late. I may want him to come sooner, do something sooner. change things now–but I have come to trust two things completely: if things don’t happen on my time table, then God is still working things out; and he is absolutely trustworthy.
When things come together we often say the time was right. We are often in the right spot at the right time–or not. It’s the right time to get married, to have a child, to buy a car. The stars align. The market is favorable. We can identify physical markers and emotional leanings–so why would we be surprised when God says, “It’s time.”
And that’s how we are invited into this Advent season. However full or empty our world seems, it’s just right for God to work. With the same child-like excitement that builds toward opening Christmas presents, let’s anticipate the gift God has for us.
Okay. Raise your hand if you have a cell phone? Keep them up…I’m still counting.
Last week I finally went in to talk to the people at my Verizon store. I would rather visit the dentist.
There are very few, if any, workers there who know what life was like before cell phones. I feel like I’m immediately a “marked” woman: easy prey; unknowing victim; big sale! Ugh.
So I after I am accosted at the door, I am sent to the counter to talk to a young man. Very chipper and quite excited to get the geezer (not), he asks what he can do for me. I tell him, “Fix my phone.”
I go on to explain that my battery won’t hold a charge. He removes the battery and spins it on the counter. “Yep, that battery is really bad.” (Thanks captain obvious, that’s why I came in). He explains that the spinning demonstrates that the battery is warped and that’s why it’s not charging.
He proceeds to look up my account–our account, since we are bundled with younger daughter. He correctly informs me that my contract isn’t up until March. A fact that I knew and that doesn’t make me happy. I ask what I can do about this.
He walks me over to the magic wall of wonder. I guess I’m supposed to be all “Ooh” and “Ah”, but all I see are gizmos and gadgets I can’t afford and don’t need. He proceeds to explain my two options–both of which cost way too much and don’t fix my phone. No, I need a new phone. Upgrade is the solution. I leave the store with his card and my bum phone.
Later in the day I tell my husband about my adventure. He asks how much a new battery costs. I tell him that was not an option that was given to me. He sighs and gets on Ebay. He orders me an $8 battery that will be here in three days. If that works–great! If not, we’ll consider another option. A new phone is not in the picture. And I’m way okay with that.
That battery came as promised. And works wonderfully. My phone should last until my contract is up.
Now where, you ask, is the daily grace in all of that?
Replacing the battery seemed like such an obvious and logical solution. I’m certainly no techo-genius, but even I came up with that one. And the whole thing dying shortly before my contract was complete was a fact that seemed quite suspicious to me as well.
As I drove home from the store, my phone making all sorts of odd beeps and chimes as I try to charge it, a phrase ran through my mind: not as the world gives.
Here’s the context of those words: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27, NIV)
We typically hear these words at funerals. They are spoken there with intent of bringing comfort.
But all I could hear was: I do not give to you as the world gives.
The world wanted me to spend beyond my means. The world left me feeling badly about myself. The world avoided the simple solution.
Jesus does none of the above. Jesus invites me to be a wise steward. Jesus loved me so much he died for me. Through Jesus’ teachings, miracles, and example, we see over and over the value of individuals that society shunned or devalued (the ill, children, widows, women, and tax collectors). Jesus focused on the obvious, even though their eyes were blind and their ears shut to his message.
As you make your way into the minefield of holiday shopping and gift giving, I would invite you to carry this verse with you: I do not give as the world gives. The world wants you to spend. The world seeks to convince children that they don’t have enough, or good enough. Adults aren’t immune from this ploy of the deceiver either.
The message of the world is that things, more things, better things, improved things, new things will make us happy. But it’s a lie. Sorry. Here’s how I know it: this is not how God gives. Jesus neither. God gave the greatest gift in the form of a helpless baby, born in a stable or cave. There was a fanfare of sorts (cue the angelic choir), but the message was given to dirty, smelly, low-life shepherds.
NOW HEAR THIS: I’m not saying you have to change everything you do. I’m just asking you to consider…and invite God into your process. This isn’t simply an invitation to ask and apply the WWJD formula…but there is something to thinking about how Jesus would give and what he would give.
As I thought about this verse an old Quaker song came to mind:
Now those are some gifts I would like to find around my tree: freedom, the ability to bow and bend, and know I’m where I ought to be. Those are the gifts Jesus gives. I hope you find those this holiday and holy season.
“Lord, the calendar calls for Christmas. We have traveled this way before. During this Advent season we would see what we have never seen before, accept what we have refused to think, and hear what we need to understand. Be with us in our goings that we may meet you in you coming. Astonish us until we sing “Glory!” and then enable us to live it out with love and peace. In the name of your Incarnate Word, even Jesus Christ. Amen. From The Unsettling Season by Donald J. Shelby
The world we live in refuses to be seen with old eyes, in olden ways. What once might have brought comfort, pales before the high speed gods and goddesses of this age.
The RHWC (red-haired wonder child) and I spent a lot of time cuddling this weekend. I think he was getting sick and I need to hold onto him. He is 6yrs old and turning 7 in a little over a month. Everytime I thought about one of those kids in CT, I wept. I have three grandchildren who just turned 7 or will turn 7 next month. They may be onery, and frustrate their mommies, but they are innocent and I cannot fathom anyone thinking they would need to die.
In addition to hugging, the RHWC and I had a conversation about God. He has only recently begun to be open to matters of faith. Before we started attending our current “turch” (that’s how he pronounces it), he pretty much refused to go. This was very disconcerting to us. We are people of faith and we have prayed long, hard, and often for our children, grandchildren–our families in general. The RHWC turned a corner when he started to develop friends at our “new” church.
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On Saturday evening, we were cutting out paper snowflakes, and the RHWC asked, “Mema, don’t you think it’s weird to believe in God? I mean how can we believe in something or someone we can’t see?” “Oh buddy,” I thought to myself, “that is the million dollar question.” So after a brief discussion of faith, he weary of waxing theologically, and decided to watch some TV instead. The yellow theologian, Spongebob, I believe…
So it has been a week. I’ve been fighting illness and fatigue…please excuse my absense. I did call the doctor’s office, but there must be a lot of sickness going around, because I still haven’t heard back.
I love the prayer we started this post with. It’s one I could easily say everyday. I pray that what astonishes you is the goodness and grace of God and not the seemingly overwhelming power of evil. I pray that not even illness, evil, or fatigue will keep you from seeing his wonder, or finding him in all your comings and goings. Amen.
“Silence is the way to make solitude a reality. The Desert Fathers praise silence as the safest way to God. ‘I have often repented of having spoken,’ Arsenius said, ‘but never of having remained silent.’ One day Archbishop Theophilus came to the desert to visit Abba Pambo. But Abba Pambo did not speak to him. When the brethren finally said to Pamo, ‘Father, say something to the archbishop, so that he may be edified,’ he replied: ‘If he is not edified by my slience, he will not be edified by my speech.'” From The Way of the Heart by Henri J.M. Nouwen
As I have occasionally pointed out, I am an ESFP with ADD. I think out loud. I come from a loud family. I raised a loud family. My grandchildren, especially the red-haired-wonder-child (RHWC). My dogs are very loud. They bark at everyone that walks by (and a lot do) and all the squirrels that tease them from the trees (I would hate to see what happened if one of them fell into the dog pen). I worked in a factory where it was constant noise.
Oddly, over the past four years I have found great peace in the silence I find in my day job. No tv. No radio. The only sound is my occasional chime to remind me to play a game of Words with Friends. The little lady I stay with turns her hearing aids off so there’s not even much conversation when she ventures out of her room. And I’m really quite okay with that.
The RHWC is a boy–all boy. Long ago, hub and I decided that boys just have to make noise: sounds just have to come from little boys. Noise for noise sake. It reminds me of how Jesus described the way that the pagans just babble on when they pray. I don’t find any need to talk to hear myself talk–I just think out loud when I’m in conversation. Somewhere along the line I lost my need to talk.
The nice thing about that is that it makes lots of room to listen. To hear what others are saying…or not. To hear what God is saying…or not. I wonder how noisy it was in the stable…perhaps that why Mary sat quietly and pondered all these things in her heart.
Writing this just sent me to the bookshelf…I pulled out my copy of Oats “Nurturing Silence in A Noisy Heart.” More to come…
Pot of Manna 