Colors of Christmas - White

One may argue the accuracy of this post's title. In physics, white does not exist as a true color. Others argue if a color is distinguishable by the human eye, it does exist. I'm all for simplicity. If I can see white as my screen's background, or see a stick marked, "white," in a box of crayons, then white is a color.

During this Christmas season, we read about white in the account of Jesus' birth and the twinkling white star the wise men followed to find the Christ child:

Then the star appeared again, the same star they had seen in the eastern skies. It led them on until it hovered over the place of the child. They could hardly contain themselves: They were in the right place! They had arrived at the right time!               Matthew 2:9-10 The Message

In other ways, there's no denying that white stands for purity. The symbolism is seen in a bride's wedding gown. In nature, nothing is more beautiful than a blanket of freshly fallen snow covering a dirty landscape. A white canvas is ready for the artist's touch. White represents a blank page. A clean slate.

Jesus' life was a life of purity. He was fully God, yet fully man. As a human, he was blameless. Pure in every sense of the word. He stood apart because of his sinless life.

As Christians, we strive for that purity and cleanliness. I relate to David as he cries out for this here:

Clean the slate, God, so we can start the day fresh! Keep me from stupid sins, from thinking I can take over your work; Then I can start this day sun-wash, scrubbed clean of the grime of sin.  Psalm 19:12 The Message

One of the most beautiful answers to his plea and ours is God's proclamation:

“Come now, let us settle the matter,”

says the Lord.

“Though your sins are like scarlet,

    they shall be as white as snow;

though they are red as crimson,

    they shall be like wool.  Isaiah 1:18 NIV

Jesus came to wipe our slates clean.

We celebrate his birth this week. Paired with his birth comes new life. Mine. Yours. Hallelujah! Thank you Jesus!

Merry Christmas, dear friends. Merry Christmas!

Colors of Christmas - Silver and Gold

It's impossible to mention Christmas and silver and gold together without immediately thinking of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Rudolph was a well loved classic at our home and with it, Burl Ives' wonderful song, Silver and Gold. Rudolph. Hermey. Yukon Cornelius. Clarice. Oh, and that big bumble, the Abominable Snowman. What wonderful memories.

The colors silver and gold together cannot help but invoke thoughts of royalty. Silver crowns. Gold tassels. Silver swords. Gold jewelry. Colors fit for a king.

So it's fitting that during Christmas, our king arrives. And while he was not recognized by all as the Savior of the world, he was, and is, in fact, our Lord of Lord and King of Kings. This tiny babe of lowly birth came to earth with royal worth.

On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: KING OF KINGS and LORD OF LORDS. Revelation 19:16 NIV

Gold and silver reflect. They are typically colors that glow, sparkle or shine brightly. Golden sunshine brings light to darkness and warmth to the earth.

Jesus' glory shines in the darkest places. His son-shine brings light to the nations. His spirit brings warmth to our lives and joy to our hearts.

Through the heartfelt mercies of our God,

    God’s Sunrise will break in upon us,

Shining on those in the darkness,

    those sitting in the shadow of death,

Then showing us the way, one foot at a time,

    down the path of peace.  Luke 1:79 The Message 

Silver and gold. Reflecting Joy. Reigning Peace. Bringing Life.

The Colors of Christmas - Red

The flip side of the green, feel good, warm and fuzzy color of Christmas, is red. Red is the tough, prickly, in your face color of the season.

Think about it.

Red is the color of blood. Blood is not usually an every day conversation topic. Blood shed is in the news for crimes against humanity, criminal acts and prison terms.  Blood causes many folks to become woozy and faint.

 As an accountant, being "in the red," is not a good thing. Red indicates losing money, being underwater, or generally having issues that are unwanted.  Red may be an indicator of a heavy debt load.



At Christmas, the things that are prominently red have prickly parts.  Holly, for instance, has red berries, but its leaves are sharp and extremely prickly.  The red, showy bracts of a poinsettia have pointy ends. And the ends of the Grinch's shoes?  Pointy spikes! Yikes!




As Christians, we should be humbled by what the red "prickles" mean for us.

Jesus' blood is a symbol of his sacrifice. His blood shed is not for crimes against humanity, but for humanity's crimes against Him! The prickly crown of thorns was jammed on his head. He was beaten. Tortured. Hung on a cross. His crucifixion took place to pardon our prison term.

My life hovers "in the red." I carry a huge debt load as human, sinner number one.  My sin debt is in the heavy red zone. By the grace of God, Jesus came and took my debt load on himself and wiped my slate clean. The amazing part? He does it over and over and over again. For me. For you. Wahoo!

The prickly holly leaves and poinsettia points are reminders of the jagged and rough journey Jesus took on our behalf. His life was not an easy, feel good, warm and fuzzy one. He endured the prickles of  hypocritical religious leaders and ultimately an angry mob to turn over his life for ours.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5 NIV 

And for that we say, "Hallelujah!"  Praise his name!

The Colors of Christmas - Green

One need not look far to notice the colors of Christmas. Green and red. Silver and gold. And white, while not technically a color, is visible everywhere.


I'm sure there's historical significance behind these traditional Christmas colors, but, for kicks and giggles, I'm going to share what these colors mean to me. And maybe, just maybe, some of my thoughts will align with history, but if not, no biggie.


Here goes.


Green.


Green signifies new life. New life sometimes defies the odds. The flower poking up through the sidewalk crack. The wildflower growing in sand. How about those cool air plants that live without soil? At Christmas, we celebrate the new life of Jesus. The birth that defied the odds. A baby born of a virgin. Never happened before. Never happened since.

A green Shoot will sprout from Jesse’s stump, from his roots a budding Branch. The life-giving Spirit of God will hover over him, the Spirit that brings wisdom and understanding, The Spirit that gives direction and builds strength, the Spirit that instills knowledge and Fear-of-God. Fear-of-God will be all his joy and delight.  Isaiah 11:1 The Message

Our Christmas trees are evergreens. Ever. Green. If green signifies new life, then ever green signifies eternal life. Pretty cool. Our Christmas trees signify our guarantee of eternal life if our faith rests in Jesus Christ.  He is the way, the truth, the life.

 And this is the way to have eternal life—by knowing you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth!  John 17:3 Living Bible

Christmas wreaths hang outdoors on our garages and homes. They adorn our walls. Those green wreaths are circles of life. Generation after generation, grandparents and parents pass down the Christian heritage of a life lived with, and for Jesus.

Come, children, listen closely; I’ll give you a lesson in God worship.      Psalm 34:11 The Message

Green. A really fun color to think about during this season.

Oh yeah, and green:  My hubby's favorite color. Not historically significant for sure, but true nonetheless.

Next up.  Red.

Gnarly....

This tree has character. It stands at the corner of a blueberry field near a busy, rural thoroughfare in West Olive. Its stoic presence greets us each Sunday morning as we drive to church.

The features of this tree are not beautiful. It is misshapen and crooked. Its branches are gnarly and a fair share are dead. This evergreen has had a hard life. It has been the victim of not one, but two, lightning strikes.











 Its trunk is scarred. Its bark is shredding. Compared to neighboring trees, its color is dull and boring. In spite of its odd characteristics, this tree is special. This particular tree's beauty is in its character.

Webster's definition of character is, "the group of qualities that make a person, group, or thing different from others."

Different.

I'm not quite sure how it happened, but being "different" in today's society isn't about character, it's about separation. In today's world, being different isn't tolerated. Differences in skin color, political party affiliation and sexual identities aren't celebrated, they are slammed. Differences in opinion are not discussed or debated, but protested and boycotted. Written comments are hateful. Spoken words are spiteful.  And it seems the more we highlight the need for equality, the more we point out our differences and separate ourselves with polarized divisiveness.

Quite frankly, I've had enough. Enough of the bickering. Enough of the hate. Enough of judgmental jargon.

So today, I'm going to take Paul's words from Romans 12:18 and live it out, and I'll definitely need God's help to do it.  The NIV translation states it this way: "If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone."

I'm going to start by cutting out an expanded section of Romans 12 and placing it where I spend time each day. Maybe my bathroom mirror. Maybe my desk at work. My laptop. My dashboard. And maybe, just maybe, as far as it depends on me, I may make a difference.

Here's the passage. From Romans 12:14-21. From the Message:

14-16 Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they’re happy; share tears when they’re down. Get along with each other; don’t be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don’t be the great somebody.

17-19 Don’t hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you’ve got it in you, get along with everybody. Don’t insist on getting even; that’s not for you to do. “I’ll do the judging,” says God. “I’ll take care of it.”

20-21 Our Scriptures tell us that if you see your enemy hungry, go buy that person lunch, or if he’s thirsty, get him a drink. Your generosity will surprise him with goodness. Don’t let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.

Today I'm going to praise God that I'm different. I'm scarred, gnarly, struck by the lightning circumstances of life. And tomorrow, I'm going to celebrate that we are all different. Misshapen but beautiful. Black. White. Hispanic, Republican. Democrat. Presbyterian. Baptist. God created each of us with character. God created each of us as his children, with care.

As far as it depends on me, I'm not going to highlight our differences. I'm not going to give anyone special treatment because they are different from me. I just want to love on everyone. I'm asking God to help me love others the way he loves me and see his special creations through the lens of his love.

Special. Loved. Made with character.

A "little" boogie...

Church. It's the place you'll find my family on most Sunday mornings. Today was no exception. We attend church to be filled, to participate in worship and to fellowship. But our service today warmed my heart, not because of the sermon or the fellowship or the Scripture. Nope. Today's worship was special for one reason.

Kids.

Today, children reminded me of true, pure worship.

Today is Palm Sunday. We have a tradition in our church of giving kids, young and old alike, palm branches on this special morning. And during the singing of traditional Hosanna hymns, the kids excitedly participated with exuberant waving, flailing even, of these leafy greens. These kids didn't hold back and raised their palms in simple, joyful praise.

Earlier in the service, as is typical on Sunday mornings, our praise team led us in worship. Today's songs included a toe-tapping, hand-clapping spiritual. Two pews ahead of us, a young family worshiped with Daniel, their toddler.  Daniel bounced, slid and danced to the beat of the music. He was the picture of pure happiness, complete with twinkling eyes and wide smile.

Daniel's dancing reminded me of a Facebook post I had seen earlier this week. Amy, another young mom from our church, posted a video of her sweet daughter.

It's obvious that God created the jubilant joy of music in our very souls. Kids unabashedly celebrate this gift. I wonder why, as adults, we squelch this precious gift. Maybe it's fear or worry of humiliation, but whatever reason, we seem to have lost the innocence of pure worship.

After watching kids worship, I need to try to refresh my bones and get back to the pure joy of worship. I can learn from kids, but I can also learn from David.  He wrote about dancing in Psalm 51, here from The Message:

Soak me in your laundry and I’ll come out clean, scrub me and I’ll have a snow-white life. Tune me in to foot-tapping songs, set these once-broken bones to dancing. Don’t look too close for blemishes, give me a clean bill of health. God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. Don’t throw me out with the trash, or fail to breathe holiness in me. Bring me back from gray exile, put a fresh wind in my sails!

Let's dance like no one's watching!

Road Goop...

Having an extended break between Christmas and New Year's has been such a blessing! Life seems far less hectic when work is not part of the daily agenda. Time moves at a slower pace.

Sleeping in. Homemade breakfasts. Daily devotions. Family game time.

The weather during Christmas break is usually cold, overcast and snowy, but a few days ago, God blessed us with a day which was sunny and unseasonably warm. From my perch on the couch, I pondered a bit of exercise. A walk seemed a perfect way to enjoy the weather without exerting too much energy. My son, Barry, was home early from work and after very little arm-twisting, he agreed to be my walking partner. We decided Kouw Park, our local township park on the shores of Lake Michigan, should be our destination and turnaround point. giving us a four mile round trip walk.

Living in a rural area, our relatively quiet, county road was our walking surface.  During other times of the year, this trip is made while driving, and we barely notice the surface of the roadway, except to see the haphazard squiggly black marks of the county's crack-seal treatment.  But since our walking pace was slow and relaxed, we were able to enjoy a great deal more of both the scenery and the roadway.

It was on our return trip that Barry noticed a set of initials in the rubber seal coat.  D.G. Ha. We laughed about the fact that those are the initials that represent our last name. De Graaf.

And a few feet further, another set of initials:

And then, best of all, we spotted a fish. And I'm gonna call it a Jesus fish.

 

In all the months I've driven down this road, I've never noticed these "signs" in the pavement. It wasn't until I slowed down the pace of life and walked that I was able to see these markings which are plainly visible.

The same is true of my Christian walk. Most days, my world is speeding along, my to-do list so long I don't notice the markings God has placed in my path. The people I encounter, the creation around me and the Holy Spirit inside me go unnoticed because of my hurried existence. And then the gift of an extended break helped me reflect on God's blessing and presence. He hasn't changed in this time, but he's given me the gift of quiet and I've noticed him.

Thanks God. Help me to see you with my God eyes. Help me to look for you every day.

God’s wisdom is so deep, God’s power so immense,
    who could take him on and come out in one piece?
He moves mountains before they know what’s happened,
    flips them on their heads on a whim.
He gives the earth a good shaking up,
    rocks it down to its very foundations.
He tells the sun, ‘Don’t shine,’ and it doesn’t;
    he pulls the blinds on the stars.
All by himself he stretches out the heavens
    and strides on the waves of the sea.
He designed the Big Dipper and Orion,
    the Pleiades and Alpha Centauri.
We’ll never comprehend all the great things he does;
    his miracle-surprises can’t be counted.
Somehow, though he moves right in front of me, I don’t see him;
    quietly but surely he’s active, and;: I miss it.

Job 9:4-11 (The Message)

20/800

I have myopia. In fact, I have severe myopia. It's nothing to be alarmed about because, simply stated, I am nearsighted. Apparently, I'm in good company.  Studies show that approximately 33% of all Americans suffer from myopia. An eyeglass prescription of -9.00 means that, without my contacts, I'm unable to discern facial features in the mirror when standing as close as two feet away. Unaided, I'm not able to see the big "E" on the vision chart at the ophthalmologist's office. In numerical terms, my uncorrected vision is roughly 20/800.  Yikes!

At the other end of the spectrum is hyperopia. Someone with hyperopia sees things in the distance perfectly, but has trouble focusing on nearby objects. Both myopia and hyperopia are medical conditions affecting vision.

While being as nearsighted as I am can be challenging, it isn't without its benefits. One advantage of my nearsightedness is the precision with which I can see extremely close objects. With my uncorrected vision, I can see the smallest pore, print or tiniest object perfectly.

Vision. According to Merriam-Webster, vision is, "the act or power of seeing:  SIGHT."

As we enter into the final week leading up to Christmas, I want to avoid a sight condition which affects the vision of our lives. It comes under the guise of busyness, distraction and holiday spending. This condition becomes the focal point of December and blurs the real reason for the season. I'd like to issue this challenge:  Let's avoid Christmas hyperopia. Let's not allow the farsighted pageantry, food, presents or family gatherings to blur our vision to what's right in front of us.

I want to have Christmas myopia. I want to see Jesus' birth with precision. With perfection. Near me. And then know that close within my heart is the present of his presence. For me. For you.

See it clearly. Simplify Christmas. Celebrate Christ.

"This is what you're to look for:  a baby wrapped in a blanket and lying in a manger."   Matthew 2:12 (The Message)

Merry Christmas, dear ones!  Merry Christmas!

Shine Your Light...

On Tuesday, citizens of our great country exercised their tremendous freedom and cast votes to elect our next president. I took a vacation day to work the polls at my township hall and for the thirteen hours the polls were open, I watched the privilege of our democracy in progress. It was fun and exciting to see brand-new voters, both teens and senior citizens alike, cast their first vote along with the throngs of veteran voters. With eager anticipation, I arrived at home to watch the returns and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning hoping to witness the announcement of the victor. Unfortunately, sleep arrived before either candidate reached the 270 magic number.

On Wednesday, I woke to the news of a truly historical upset and a country seemingly on edge.

Huh?

What happened to us?  We have become a country of angry, divided, Facebook-spouting wackos. Protesting. Rioting even.

Growing up, I was taught to be a humble winner and a gracious loser. I was taught that adversity brings learning and growth. I was taught to shine the light of Jesus in the darkest times.

Tonight, a simple trip to the bathroom helped me remember a few things. Actually, it was our bathroom's night light that caused me pause.  The soft glow of the night light lit the darkness well enough for me to see my way.

Yet when I flipped the wall switch, the bright light of the overhead bulb's energy completely illuminated the room.

Ah yes. I'm commanded to shine the light of Jesus to others.  My light is bright enough for others to see, and yet when we switch over to him, it's Jesus' light that illuminates the world.

And so today, I'd like to offer a challenge:  In the darkness of our world, shine your light. Respect others. Shine the light of Jesus so others might be attracted to the warmth and glow of His true and beautiful love

“Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven."  Matthew 5:16 (The Message)

Tornado...

I am blessed.

While I coast on easy street, I sometimes forget just how blessed I am. I'm not saying that life is always a bowl of cherries. Of course not. Occasionally there's a bump in the road, a blip on the radar or an overcast day in an otherwise sunny stretch of weather. I've dealt with health issues, heartache, job loss and even death.

But I am blessed.

Sometimes I just seem to forget it. Interestingly enough, the fact is that at just the moment when life is as good as it gets, at just that time when I forget my true focus, the tornado strikes, wreaking havoc to my settled, comfortable world. It seems to strike without notice, replacing peace and calm with worry and upheaval.

I am blessed.

Why?

Because when worry threatens to crush me under its load and when upheaval thrashes against peace, God whispers to me.  "I won't give up on you. I won't leave you. Strength! Courage!" (Joshua 1:5, The Message).

This morning as we worshiped on the Pigeon River, God confirmed his whisper with a visual reminder. On a calm river, under partly cloudy skies, God gave me this "tornado in the clouds" visual:

Within a half hour, the "cloud tornado" dissipated and God provided the visual of his promise:

When trials come, God is there. He won't give up on me. He won't leave me. Loving Jesus doesn't guarantee me a life on Easy Street. On the contrary, I get to share in the suffering. Whatever hardship I deal with is small potatoes compared to Jesus' suffering. And more astonishing is the fact that His suffering was for me! A sweet passage is Romans 8:15-17 which comforts my soul (here from The Message):

This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through the good times with him!

All knowing...

It's a huge mystery to children everywhere. It's a phenomenon known around the world. It occurs in my house. It happens at your house. Kids have come to expect it.

"It" is the inexplicable ability to achieve what seems to be extrasensory perception:  Mom's gift of knowing where any object is, at any given time and in any given place. Honestly. ESP.

When I was a kid, I was astounded by the fact that my mom knew the exact location of every "lost" item. The laundry room corner was where I dumped over my swim gear, including the goggles for which I had "looked EVERYWHERE."  She told me I'd find my toothbrush in the backseat of the car. Mom was totally aware of the fact that one tennis shoe resided in the garage, while its match lay upside down behind our family room sofa. I would have sworn that mom intentionally placed items in the most improbable locations for the sheer pleasure of messing with my mind!

Moms and their knack of keeping a home seems effortless. Think about it. Take the last roll of toilet paper out of the closet and next time you look, Wa-lah! there's a full supply of toilet paper in there. An extra bottle of ketchup is always on hand. Use the last squirt of body wash and the following day, the empty bottle is gone and a full bottle has magically appeared in the shower caddy.

On top of all this, add mom's wisdom! Mom knows exactly what to say for a broken heart. For loneliness. Hurt. Sadness.

While moms seem to be wise superheroes with all-knowing and all-seeing powers, now and again, we mess up. Moms are human after all.

This month, I've been writing out verses of Scripture from the book of Job. Near the end of the book, God talks to Job and pointedly asks Job about God's greatness. God's words struck a chord with me and helped me reflect on his utter sovereignty, yet precise care and love.

While I might mess up caring for my family, God never errs. His care is constant and perfect.

From Psalm 34, here from The Message:

15 God keeps an eye on his friends,
his ears pick up every moan and groan.
16 God won’t put up with rebels;
he’ll cull them from the pack.
17 Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,
ready to rescue you.
18 If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there;
if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.
19 Disciples so often get into trouble;
still, God is there every time.
20 He’s your bodyguard, shielding every bone;
not even a finger gets broken.
21 The wicked commit slow suicide;
they waste their lives hating the good.
22 God pays for each slave’s freedom;
no one who runs to him loses out.

April Showers...

The calendar says April.

The saying goes, "April showers bring May flowers."

It was sixty degrees last week.

The tulips are sprouting in downtown Holland.

All of the above statements are true. In Michigan, however, those statements may be true, but we can and still do receive accumulating snowfall. Such was the case yesterday. The beautiful sunshine of the morning gave way to noon snow globe type showers, followed by blustery winds in the afternoon. Hours later, the bright blue sky was visible yet again. And, as if on cue, we had another round of accumulating snow overnight. Us Michiganders groaned a collective, "ARGH!"

The spouting day lilies and daffodils in our yard were covered in a blanket of snow. One might think the extreme cold and snow destroyed life and the possibility of continued growth, but quite the opposite is true. It turns out that tulips, day lilies and daffodils are hardy plants. In a few short days, as the weather warms, the daffodil buds will bloom into beautiful flowers.


Most of us encounter adversity in our lives. Adversity may come in the storm of sickness. It may rain down in unemployment or the death of a loved one. These stormy times may seem devastating. The blanket of adversity may seem debilitating.


Jesus knows about adversity. He endured trials, sufferings and even torture.  Having Jesus as my Savior means he understands my struggles. Why? Because he experienced and endured the storms of life himself. Nothing in my life can compare to what Jesus experienced. What a comfort it is to know that Jesus gets it. Amazing as it may seem, he not only carries us through the storm, but he helps us grow in spite of them as well.

He gets me. He understands you. He knows my circumstances. He endured your pain.

When the storms of life seem too tough to weather, go to him. He's always there.

Now that we know what we have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let’s not let it slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help. Hebrews 4:15-16 (The Message)

The trio...

Nothing beats driving into work before sunrise. Admittedly, I miss the occasional winter or early spring sunrise, but the flip side is the beauty of a mesmerizing night sky. It's probably a good thing that my drive takes me through mostly rural country roads for the first half of my commute since I tend to be distracted by the sights around me. My distraction is dangerous only to a foolish road-crossing deer or possibly - me.

This morning's attraction was a trio, high in the southern sky.

The waning gibbous moon. Saturn. Mars.

The stunning trio formed a lopsided Scalene triangle that captured my attention. The captivating part of this trio was the group's placement. The bright moon was positioned between the two planets. Saturn was closest below, to my left but to the moon's right. Mars was a bit further from the moon to its left.

It was a comforting sight. It reminded me of our heavenly trio. Father. Son. Holy Spirit. God. the Father, the central bright light. Jesus, the Son, to his right, reigning on high. And the Holy Spirit, a bit more distant because he is here with us on earth. Living among us. With us.

God's love. Jesus' grace. Holy Spirit's fellowship. A visual reminder in the early morning sky.

Yet for us there is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist. I Corinthians 8:6

But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.  John 14:26 

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.  2 Corinthians 13:14

Prior moon shot from Jamaica

Sunday - Closed...

Jamaica. Our favorite winter vacation spot. I've written several posts about this beautiful island. If you're so inclined, you can read a similar post here or another here and here or here.

We try to visit our happy place once a year and this year we were blessed to find ourselves there again. Our week was absolutely amazing, not to mention relaxing. Jamaica has a way of cleansing our bodies, souls and minds. And each year I find I can learn much about life from our wonderful Jamaican friends.

Our must-stay place is The Hibiscus Lodge, a spectacular small hotel, set on cliffs overlooking the Caribbean Sea. The hotel is situated on acres of lush gardens just steps from the hustle and bustle of Ocho Rios. The serene gardens are in sharp contrast to the horn-honking, music-blaring streets of the city. To step outside the gate of the hotel is like stepping into another world.

The streets of Ocho Rios are filled bumper to bumper with cars, buses and route taxis. The sidewalks are crammed with foot traffic. Workers and students make their way to work and school. Vendors and panhandlers beckon for attention. Six days a week, the streets look like this:

 Six days of hustle. Six days of noisy bustle.

But on Sundays, the streets look like this:

Streets are empty. Shops are closed.

In sharp contrast, churches are full. Gospel music permeates the air.

Jamaicans are hard workers. Many work twelve to sixteen hour days, six days a week. Many walk to work. Many find creative ways to travel miles to work. And yet on Sunday, they rest. They worship.

If only Americans could turn back time. Back to a time when Sunday stood apart. As a day to rest. A day to worship. Ah, but we've followed our pocketbooks. We've followed our desires. We need to shop seven days a week. We can't be inconvenienced.

Jamaicans may be poor as measured monetarily, but don't be deceived. Jamaicans are wealthy beyond belief. Their belief makes them rich beyond measure.

Thank you, Jamaica, for the lesson. We would be wise to learn from you.

Ya mon!

“‘There are six days when you may work, but the seventh day is a day of sabbath rest, a day of sacred assembly. You are not to do any work; wherever you live, it is a sabbath to the Lord.  Leviticus 23:3

A Familiar Face...

So I'm at a winter conference right now. In Florida. In February. Under sunshine. Hard to take.

Not.

While a lot of my time is spent in meetings, I have enjoyed spending some precious spare time walking the spacious grounds and relaxing in my beautiful room. I'm learning a lot. I'm soaking up information like a sponge. But perhaps the most unexpected part of my trip so far has been the uncanny likenesses I have encountered from my fellow team members whom I met in person for the first time.

First there's the guy who reminds me of one of my former bosses. His mannerisms and facial features just plain remind me of my old boss.  Then there's another man who has one of those familiar faces that you can't quite place. It took me until day two to realize he bears a really strong resemblance to Pete, our favorite car salesman.  But it was this morning, while four of us shared breakfast, that my heart tugged at me with nostalgia.

As I listened to our group's eldest couple share their family history, I realized this kind gentleman reminded me so much of my dad. A thinner version than dad for sure, but definitely an uncanny likeness. And even though my dad's been gone for nearly ten years, as I write out this blog post, I am snuffling. I  have tears in my eyes remembering how much I love and miss my dad.

I long to see my dad again. And yes, I'm confident I will see my dad again some day.

I have this assurance because of God's Word. Jesus promises us that he prepares a place for those who know him and love him. Some day I look forward to the great reunion that will take place in the heavenly realms as his children are welcomed into the biggest family ever.

His family. My family. Your family.

From John 14: 1-3 (here from The Message):

“Don’t let this throw you. You trust God, don’t you? Trust me. There is plenty of room for you in my Father’s home. If that weren’t so, would I have told you that I’m on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I’m on my way to get your room ready, I’ll come back and get you so you can live where I live. And you already know the road I’m taking.”

Focal point...

If you have ever given birth, chances are you took a childbirth class. And if, once upon a time, you took a childbirth class, you probably learned breathing techniques. And if you learned breathing techniques, you probably contemplated and encountered your valuable focal point.

Your focal point.

Simple stated, your childbirth focal point is exactly what it says it is. It's the point, or object, or thing or person on which you concentrate or place your entire focus. Placing all thought, emotion and feeling aside, your focal point demands your entire attention. Your focal point's objective is to bring you to a place where pain, self, others, and essentially the entire outside world, becomes secondary.

Seems simple, right?

Wrong.

Presenting...my focal point:

This odd little stuffed animal claims to be made by the Plush Toy Company, Incorporated of Floral Park, New York, in the good old U.S. of A.  He is anything but plush. How he came into my possession is fuzzy, but I'm sure my hubby either won him at the county fair, or from one of the coin-operated metal crane-scoop games. I must have kept this strange, red misfit with the apple on his chest for sentimental reasons because, obviously, it wasn't for his soft fluffiness or charming good looks.

At any rate, this skinny fellow with the one-thread whisker and lopsided ears seemed to make the perfect candidate for the focal point award. Now maybe it was his sheer goofiness, or possibly it was my lack of determination, but most probably it was the sheer pain of childbirth that caused my attention to shift from my focal point to myself. Not long into the throes of childbirth, I had completely lost focus.

Last week, my daily reading, dated January 29, in Sarah Young's, Jesus Calling devotional began with these words:

KEEP YOUR FOCUS ON ME. I have gifted you with amazing freedom, including the ability to choose the focal point of your mind.

Ah, so true.

Every day, I need to reset my focal point. I need to focus my eyes on the Lord above, who has His best in mind for me. It is easy to turn my focus inward. I frequently allow the circumstances around me to control the focus of my mind. The behavior of people around me, my health, my family and my emotions can just plain get the best of me and leave the worst of me exposed.

Over and over again, God gently reminds me to come to him. To call out to him. To focus on him.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  2 Corinthians 4:18 

And we have the best example of all to follow in Jesus. His focus was laser-sharp on our Father:

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!  Hebrews 12:1-3 (The Message)

Dear God,
Help me to focus on you and only you. Help me to make you my focal point so that you bring me to a place where pain, self, others, and essentially the entire outside world, becomes secondary to you. Only you.
Amen

Pop Secret...

Orville Redenbacher. Act II. Jolly Time. And my personal favorite - Pop Secret. 

Yes, it's popcorn. That delicious, fluffy, sit-on-the-couch-and-watch-a-movie, snack.

Preparing popcorn has gotten easier over the years. Back when I was a kid, we melted butter in a pan over the open flame of our gas stove. We added popcorn kernels, shook the pan back and forth and waited patiently. We had a big aluminum lid for the pan and as the kernels popped, the lid would raise higher and higher. After we transferred the popcorn into a gigantic bowl, we melted more butter and drizzled that over the popcorn.  Mm good.

Then came the Jiffy Pop days. These one-use disposable aluminum pans were pre-packaged with popcorn and stove ready, but the heating procedure was the same. Jiffy Pop was a luxury for our family, because it was way more expensive than bags of popcorn kernels, so we rarely enjoyed this treat.

Air poppers made their arrival on the scene when my hubby and I were newlyweds. Making popcorn using this method was entertaining and messy. I recall watching popcorn fly not only into a strategically placed bowl underneath, but also everywhere else, littering counter and floor.

When microwave popcorn arrived on the scene, the stress and mess of popcorn was over. Simply placing a bag "this side up" and heating in the microwave yielded delicious, no mess popcorn in a variety of buttery flavors. Butter. Double Butter. Movie Theater Butter. No fat added. Ha!

The aroma of popcorn is unmistakable. The saltiness undeniable. The flavor remarkable.

The other night as I enjoyed my Pop Secret Movie Theater Butter popcorn, I pondered popcorn. Weird? Yes. But ponder I did nonetheless. I wondered how something so hard, so tough and so ordinary, could turn into something so soft, so fluffy and so spectacular. Naturally, I searched on my favorite's website and here's what I found under their FAQs:

A combination of heat and steam is needed to make the popcorn “pop”. The inside of a popcorn kernel has a small amount of moisture that is surrounded by a hard coating. When the Pop Secret bag is heated in the microwave and the temperature reaches around 450°F, the moisture in the kernel turns to steam and the kernel explodes or pops.

Popcorn has an uncanny likeness to becoming a Christian. Our hard, tough, ordinary hearts contain small amounts of moisture. When heated either by the tough circumstances of life, or by the simple knowledge of knowing there is more to life than ourselves, we find ourselves ripe for change. Our appliance for change is Jesus. Jesus transforms our tough, hard hearts into soft, pliable ones. He adds his aroma and saltiness to each of us. We are changed in an instant.

We are the salt of the earth. We are the aroma of Christ. Our flavor can make a remarkable difference in the world.

As far as God is concerned there is a sweet, wholesome fragrance in our lives. It is the fragrance of Christ within us, an aroma to both the saved and the unsaved all around us. 2 Corinthians 2:15 (Living Bible)

 “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ve lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage." Matthew 5:13 (The Message)

God pause...

I've learned a lot in the past thirty years. I've learned a lot about myself. I've learned a whole lot more about God. Thirty years ago, I believed in coincidence. When I was twenty five, I thought that chance encounters were just that. Thirty years ago, I would smile when an out-of-touch friend called "just because" when I was having a bad day and I would think, "What are the odds of that?"

In the years since, I have learned to look for God in the circumstances of my everyday life.  I realize his intimate care in orchestrating and protecting me in my day to day activities. I no longer see interruptions and unexpected delays as inconveniences and irritants. I see these events as, what I like to call, God pauses.

Yesterday, I encountered a dual purpose God pause.

First, a brief history. Over the past year and a half, I've spent a lot of time doing what many fifty-somethings are doing:  caring for an aging parent. Over the last eighteen months, my mom has endured two back surgeries, two foot surgeries and suffered multiple mini-strokes. These health issues demanded endless doctor's visits, daily phone calls and hours spent running errands. Last week, my sisters and I discussed talking with my mom about the possibility of moving to a senior independent living community. We decided if the opportunity arose, any one of us would broach the subject with mom, otherwise we would talk to her together as a group this summer.

Yesterday, I met my mom at her podiatrist for what was yet to be another setback. The latest infection needed an antibiotic for which the doctor called in a prescription. Mom would need to stay home bound for the remainder of the week. As we exited the doctor's office, I spotted a bench in the lobby area of the main building. I felt compelled to sit there with my mom. Shaking off the feeling, I continued to walk with my mom toward the exit. Yet again I felt drawn to the bench. This time, I gave in and invited my mom to sit and have a chat.

"This is my opportunity to talk to mom about independent living," I thought. We sat on that bench and had a great conversation about this new housing possibility. But it turns out that while God afforded us the time for our chat, he also had another plan for this fifteen minute interruption. His plan was to keep my mom out of harm's way. As it turns out, if mom had left immediately following her appointment, she would have arrived at and would have been waiting for her prescription at precisely the same time that a robbery was taking place at that exact location.

Coincidence? Hardly. God pause? Exactly.

The next time you receive an unexpected phone call at just the right time; the next time you're angry at being delayed by a long line or that long coal train or your child taking forever to tie his shoes; the next time you're passed up for the new job or promotion; thank God for his God pause. 

He's got you covered.

2 Samuel 22: 31-32

“As for God, his way is perfect:
    The Lord’s word is flawless;
    he shields all who take refuge in him.
For who is God besides the Lord?
    And who is the Rock except our God?

Crafty Christmas

I started a Christmas tradition many years ago, partially to satisfy my crafting obsession, but mostly because I love to give gifts. I make and share a simple gift with my coworkers, family and friends. The gift is usually a Christmas ornament, but I've also given display pieces and wall plaques.

This tradition is an annual process that begins as early as January, but typically gears up in October. The first step is brainstorming. This is the hmm stage. I peruse. I scrounge. I ponder. Hours are spent at Hobby Lobby or the other place my husband has jokingly dubbed, "my boyfriend's house." Michaels.

Following the AHA! moment, the busy time of buying and gathering supplies for the chosen project commences. The testing process begins in earnest with a prototype or two or twelve. I tend to be a perfectionist, which in retrospect, is a good thing. Some of my best ideas have come from the frustration of a crumpled paper or a crushed object that ends up being the absolute perfect part of the finished piece. Hours squirreled away in my craft room produce just the right gift for the season.

Production begins on the dozens of gifts to be crafted. Each gift is lovingly pieced together and critiqued when finished. The final step in the entire process is gift wrapping. The finishing touch of wrapping is almost as important as the gift itself. Great care and planning is involved for the protection and display of the gift itself.

Over the years, projects have included Christmas trees and jingle bells, vintage stars and snowmen, but one ornament seems to be a favorite. Each year, without fail, a coworker or friend will bring up the "Names of God" ornament. These ornaments were hand lettered with some of my favorite Biblical references to our Triune God.

And that's where I'd like us to rest. I'd like us to reflect on Christmas Eve. To ponder the Christ child and his gift of life.

Guide. Maker. God. Potter. Lamb of God. Redeemer. Living Water. Comforter. Alpha and Omega. Everlasting Father. Mighty God. I AM. Holy One. Lamp. King of Kings. Lord of Lords. Master. Creator. Shield. The Way, the Truth and the Life. Cornerstone. Head. Messiah. Pearl of Great Price. Hope. Prince of Peace. Deliverer. Savior. Jesus. Friend. Life.

Merry Christmas, dear friend. Merry Christmas.

Vintage Treasures...

I am obsessed with all things old. It started with my favorite childhood things. The singing angels who adorned the mantel in my parent's home during Christmas. The Terri Lee dolls that I played with as a child. The handmade styrofoam sleigh and reindeer my grandma made years before I was born.




As my family learned of my obsession, I inherited these favorites plus a plethora of other antique items. A family Bible. My aunt's nativity set. My grandma's carnival glass bowls. Volumes of vintage books and historical newspapers. Over time, my obsession became a full-blown addiction. An addiction to vintage Christmas ornaments.

It all began quite innocently. I acquired a dozen or so of my grandmother's ornaments after she passed away. No one else in my family was interested in these colorful, yet blemished, beauties. I thought it a shame to toss these delicate orbs, so naturally they found their way into my home and onto our family Christmas tree. Over the years, I've stumbled across ornaments in thrift stores, I've found boxes on eBay and bought cartons of Shiny Brites at summer garage sales where, gasp(!) other folks thought their worth at a mere buck a box.




My pretties come in all shapes, sizes and colors. Some are round. Others teardrop. Still others are bell-shaped. Some are striped. Others solid. These precious ornaments are clothed in various shades of blue, pink, turquoise and green. Each ornament is special. Each ornament is cherished.

During this advent season, I'm reminded of the reason for this season. It's not about presents. It's not about food. It's not even about the gathering of family and friends. And while you may need to search diligently in the midst of the glamour and glitz to find him. He's there.

Jesus.

Jesus came for his precious treasure. He came to rescue the outcasts, the blemished, the seemingly worthless, rejected, black sheep of the world. He sought me out. He searched for you. His addiction is our salvation. And the amazing part is, he went through an even greater rejection because of his love for us.

Isaiah 55:1-6 says it so well.  Here from The Message:

1 Who believes what we’ve heard and seen?
    Who would have thought God’s saving power would look like this?
2-6 The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
    a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
    nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
    a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
    We looked down on him, thought he was scum.
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
    our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
    that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
    that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
    Through his bruises we get healed.
We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.
    We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,
    on him, on him.

And the end of verse 12 says it in such simple terms:

he took up the cause of all the black sheep.

While we celebrate the birth of Jesus this Christmas, let's rejoice! Rejoice in the fact that our Savior came for us! Rejoice in the knowledge that he intimately loves us. Rejoice in the hope that he gives us - the hope of eternal life!

He is the ultimate gift. Reach out and open the present he offers. His presence. His life.

Merry Christmas, dear friend.