The Gifts of Christmas

When I was a little girl, I was always really excited about Christmas. On Christmas Eve, I would lay awake in bed listening closely to hear Santa’s sleigh bells. Living in south Texas, we didn’t have a fireplace, but I knew that Santa would come in to the house however he could. We left out milk and sugar cookies for him on the piano bench. In the morning, there would only be a bit of milk left in the glass and just crumbs on the plate, stockings full of fruit and candy along with a special gift from Santa for each of us.

When I was twelve, my grandparents were in a car accident on Christmas Day, while heading to our Christmas evening dinner. Granddaddy died. Ever after that, Christmas always had a bit of a sad touch to it as well. I tried to assuage that sadness by concentrating on the gifts—choosing just the perfect gifts for everyone, and anticipating the gifts I would receive. I found, however, that the feeling of emptiness grew.

As I have reflected on this over the years, I have realized that the gifts don’t really matter to me. I do enjoy seeing others open their gifts. I enjoy their delightedness when I open the ones they gave me. What I appreciate the most is being with those I love—family and close friends—and knowing that in an amazing gift of love God chose to come and live with us in order to bring us life.

So on Christmas morning this year, in the midst of the presents, I will give thanks for my family around me, for my family who lives in other states, for those who I will not see again until the Day of Resurrection, and for friends who fill my life with love. I pray that you may know joy from this gift of God whose love is so full that the Father and the Son and the Spirit all encompass us with ever-flowing grace and mercy.

When My Boat Rides Low

A mentor of mine had a really helpful image to me: I sit in a small boat in water that has mines under the surface. When my boat floats gently on the surface, it doesn’t bump into the mines and all is smooth, but sometimes for whatever reason my boat rides low in the water and tends to bump into the mines which rock my boat and increase the chance of bumping into more mines.

There are days I wake up and don’t know why I feel out of sorts, or maybe I at least vaguely know, but my ability to deal with stress and anxiety is reduced. I tend to be more snappish and pass on my anxiety to others, which increases the volatility in the relationship. Do you know that feeling?

So what do I do? What is my responsibility? I could say to others, “This is how I feel. I should be able to express my feelings. Just deal with it.” Or I could say to myself, “Oo, this is how I am feeling. I need to rein in my words and actions especially today so that I don’t add to the stress and anxiety going around.” And of course, that can be harder to do when my boat is riding low in the water.

Our society has encouraged us to “express ourselves,” not to hold back on giving voice to our emotions, but I don’t see that it has made us any better adjusted. I see anger, frustration and resentment increasing rather than the opposite. It is important to be aware of how we feel, but I don’t believe it is necessary to express all of those feelings aloud, or even silently with actions. I believe it is more important to decide what my guiding principle will be, and stick with it, even when it is difficult. I would say that a good guiding principle is what Jesus said is the second greatest commandment—the first being to love the Lord our God with all our heart, our soul, and our mind—is to love our neighbor as ourself. He didn’t say that this is easy; and it has little to do with feelings or emotions. It is a choice to make so that when my boat rides low and gets rocked by the mines, I have something else to lean on that is more steady and trustworthy than just my feelings and emotions.

What do you think?

The Desert Blooms

Can you imagine it? The desert—the wilderness. No life apparent as far as one can see. Don’t we know that wilderness at times? Haven’t we lived there—where everything is dry and barren? We look for life, for water, always walking to the edge of the next dune, only to find more dryness, more barrenness.

As I think of some of those times in my life, I know the smell of the dryness, the heat—or maybe, it’s that sense of eternal cold, when I will never feel warm again, the feeling that this is what will always be, that there is no way out.

I knew that feeling when I felt so completely alone my first semester in seminary. I knew that feeling during the years when our infertility seemed overwhelming. I have known that feeling during the years of dealing with a son’s rebellion. I know that feeling now in moments when hope seems to fail.

Where are or where have been places in your life that have been dry and barren, where there seems to be no way towards life?

 As you look at this picture, hold the images of those places in your life where hope seems to fail. As we sit or walk in the wilderness, we can hardly imagine anything else, where any hope can shine into the darkness.

And yet, we hear startling words of hope from Isaiah. The same prophet who has spent chapter after chapter telling of the devastation that is coming, painting images of barren wilderness, suddenly offers the people, and us, a new image—the dessert blooms--

a desert that rejoices with life. He tells us that the deaf will hear, the blind will see, the lame shall not just walk, but shall leap like a deer. The burning sand will become like a pool of refreshing water. The trackless wastes will be transformed into a highway, a holy way for God’s people.

We hear this not only from Isaiah, but also from Matthew. John the Baptist sits in prison, and hears of Jesus. He sends a question: are you he—the one for whom we wait, or do we have to keep waiting? Jesus sends this word back: "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.” Almost the very words of Isaiah. The desert shall be transformed. The dry barren wastes will blossom with hope and life.

And it is still happening today. As we move on through Advent, this season of preparation, we hear refrains of hope where there was none. Mary in anticipation sings:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

The barrenness of the desert gives way as God turns everything upside down. Springs gush forth in the wilderness. The lowly are lifted up. The blind see. The lame walk. The hopeless dare to hope. The highway of our God becomes our way where we had seen none.

Can you imagine it? The desert—the wilderness—blossoming with life as far as we can see. Do we have eyes to see? Do we have ears to hear of the deeds of our God? Do we have hearts to expect it? Do we have lips to speak the good news?

Wait for it, James says. Be patient and wait so that we can see that the coming of the Lord is near. See… Do you see how God comes even into the desert? Do you see how the waters of our God flow in the wilderness? Look. Listen. 

Isaiah 35:1-10

Matthew 11:2-11

A Guiding Principle

  I have tended for years to act almost as a human pretzel, bending myself constantly in order to accommodate others. Now in terms of hospitality, and making room for the stranger, flexibility is a good thing, but I have learned that in other situations, especially chronic ones, it leads to anger.

  While saying "no" when in all actuality a "yes" is not impossible may feel bad, a little too self-centered, I have been developing a guiding principle along the lines of this: “your lack of planning does not become "my" emergency.”

  For years, I have stepped in to prevent failure by my boys, and others. I have discovered that this is not helpful, and in fact over time is actually harmful--to them, and to me. So this morning when my younger son was working to finish up a project for class today, I helped by making his lunch (his job), but when he realized that some things were not going to be finished in time, he said, "unless you could take me to school." And I said, "no." This is not an unwieldy project that cannot be carried on the bus. This was not something that he did not know about until the last minute. He has known and he has been working on it, but not as diligently as needed. So we rolled up the poster board and secured it with rubber bands for the bus trip. My guess is that he has done enough work to turn it in, and maybe will have the opportunity to fine-tune it during the day even. I will gladly take him to school when a project is larger than can be carried on the bus, especially with prior planning. Could I have taken him? Yes, it was not impossible, but this way he is learning that he needs to get his own work done in the proper time and not rely on others to carry him through.

  Yesterday morning, I gave my older son a ride to the Metro to get to his job. As we pulled up, he said, "oh, there goes my train." Unsaid, but still conveyed was a question about me taking him all the way to work. My answer was, "oh, too bad." In reality another train comes in 10 minutes. Could I have taken him to work? Well, it wasn't impossible though it was highly inconvenient, but if I continue to step into the gap, he is not going to learn to be responsible and accountable for his own actions.

  Believe it or not, this has been difficult work for me. It's not about only doing things when they are convenient for me, or don't cause me stress. It's about helping my boys and myself take responsibility for our own actions.

  What guiding principles help you when faced with difficult situations?

Irritations

Have you ever found yourself wondering why other people get so steamed so easily that they honk at the car in front of them right at the moment the light turns green? The other day Jen and I went to lunch to talk about planning for church. On the way, a driver (of a Honda Civic, I’m mortified to say) honked at everyone almost all the way. A van turned into the street to make a u-turn, another mini-van followed so closely that the u-turn could not be easily accomplished. Our lane was effectively blocked, and the Civic driver kept honking—as if that would really help the matter. As soon as the lane cleared, the driver zigged and zagged around cars—and actually made it to the light at Seven Corners just ahead of us, which made me smile in self-righteous piety.

It’s easy for me to scoff at the absurd behavior, until I get to see it in myself. Andrew drove my car last night for an errand. This morning, I opened the door to find my seat moved all the way back, and leaning as far possible. At first, I found it irritating because I would have to reset everything to be right for me, but then I heard a car horn honking at another driver at the light, I suddenly saw how even this small irritation is a part of the same continuum as those drivers. I remembered the childhood lesson that anytime I point my finger at someone, there are three other fingers pointing back at me.

Oh, to pause, take a deep breath, and let it out releasing the silly irritations that get to me so that I can find the joy that God finds in those who irritate me. And in this joy may I find expectant waiting this Advent season.

Romans 12:3

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.

A surprise visitor for T-day

Just after we finished eating, and I was cleaning up in the kitchen, Andrew went outside and came back in with Aaliyah! What a pleasant surprise. She was here for about 2 and 1/2 hours, then her mommy picked her up. Not walking yet, but cruising well. She ate some cherry crisp with vanilla ice cream, a bit of turkey, and then applesauce.

Thanksgiving

On this Thanksgiving day, I am mindful of how much I have to be thankful for, so many blessings and gifts: my family, my vocation in ministry, my baptism, my health, this congregation, working with the wonderful faithful leadership at Christ Crossman, and on.

I’m sure you can come up with a list of things for which to be thankful today as well.

When Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, he told them to “give thanks in all circumstances.” There’s a big difference in being thankful for things, and giving thanks in all circumstances. I am not thankful for Jeff’s cancer. I am not thankful for war. I am not thankful for griefs. I am not thankful for these things, but I am learning to give thanks in the midst of these things. It’s not even that I am thankful in spite of these things. I am learning that God is with me always, and that I can be with God always. When I open my heart, my soul, to the ever-flowing grace of God in Jesus Christ, there is so much more room within me to experience true gratitude—to receive with true humility.

This day, as we give thanks for all the blessings we know, I pray that we will also be able to give thanks in all the circumstances of our lives, so that we will know more fully the joy of being in a living, loving relationship with the One who has made us, who redeems, and who calls us into the future.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

What Prayer Does

Sometimes we have a tendency to treat prayer as an almost magical incantation that will bring about our heart’s desire, or keep something bad from happening. When I listened at The Nexus to a conversation between Two Really Smart Guys, an atheist who’s a mathematician and a Christian who’s a physicist, I was struck by what was a primary goal of the atheist: to avoid suffering. Granted, he didn’t want just to avoid suffering for himself; he also wanted to eliminate suffering for others. He talked about how prayer doesn’t work because it doesn’t result in what one asks for.

To me, that is completely the wrong way of looking at prayer. Prayer is not about giving us our desires or wishes or even filling our needs. It’s about being in living relationship with God. When I spend time in prayer, I am drawn into a deeper relationship. My focus changes from being about my needs and desires to wanting what God wants.

Throughout Jeff’s treatment, my prayer has been for the best that is possible in God’s eyes. I do not know what healing or curing would be best, so I leave it in God’s hands.

As of the latest CT scan, there is no visible evidence of anything growing. This is good. He is recovering from the debilitating effects of the chemotherapy. He plans to be back to teaching around Thanksgiving. This is all good and I give thanks. I also continue to pray that when (as we have been told it will) the CA re-emerges, we will be strengthened for the journey by all of God’s loving grace.

We Honor Those Who Have Served

Mickey Morris enlisted in the Navy during his senior year of high school. He was only seventeen years old but he wanted to serve his nation. Before he finished basic training World War II ended. He was stationed first on Kodiak Island in Alaska. Actually, the Navy somehow lost track of him, so he wasn’t receiving his pay. While he was able to eat in the mess and had his uniforms to wear, he did not have money for anything else. The Navy had to contact his mother in Alabama to find out where he was. Fortunately, they found him and brought his pay up to date.

Then he was stationed on Okinawa. While the war was officially over, there were still Japanese soldiers who had not yet heard the news and continued to fight. Mickey was honorably discharged from the Navy on the day before his 21^st birthday.

I give thanks for those like Mickey, my father, who have been willing to place their lives on the line for the sake of others. 

Today we remember all who have served in the various branches of the military throughout our nation’s history. We remember those who have been willing to place their lives in danger to help bring about peace. May we honor their service by living our lives with justice and mercy for all. Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called children of God. [Mt 6:9]

Prayers for a young friend and his family

A young adult friend and his family are hurting badly. He had come home from college because of a severe depression. Earlier this week, he tried to hurt himself. He is now in in-patient treatment. Please remember him, his parents and siblings in your prayers.

Milestones

This week we have celebrated a couple of milestones. On Monday, Maxwell turned 14. That day, fourteen years ago, was filled with joy and with fear. After about seventeen hours of hard labor, he was born but he wasn’t breathing. The cord was wrapped around his neck 3 times. The neonatologist and NICU nurse were in the room with us waiting. I remember that I prayed, and cried without tears. His first minute Apgar was a 2. They worked quickly. The labor nurse was the only one who spoke, saying, “He has such long eyelashes.” His 5 minute Apgar was a 9. When he began crying, that’s when the tears came, along with the first verse of “Amazing Grace.”

Also on Monday, Andrew bought a used car. Watching him receive the keys from the seller was such a joy. He drove all of us to Maxwell’s birthday dinner. I am amazed at how much he has grown up lately. He’s working full-time, making sure he gets up and out when he needs to. He’s a good dad for his daughter. Sure, he will still ask for help sometimes, thank goodness. I don’t want to feel totally outgrown!

The song, “Sunrise, Sunset,” from Fiddler on the Roof, has been playing in my head this week. One moment, they are babies; the next, it seems, they are driving away on their own. Like Mary, Jesus’ mother, I treasure the memories in my heart, and give thanks as I watch my boys grow in wisdom along with their years.

I can only imagine that God looks at each one of us, treasuring the moments of wisdom and growth. While I don’t want to anthropomorphize God into merely a super human being, I do believe that for God relationship is very important. The whole purpose of Creation, in my way of thinking, is for there to be “more” relationship. God has so much love, is so much love that the impetus is for more creation to receive that love.

Listen

I confess that it is so easy for me to get worked up. Over the years I have found that my tongue can move far more quickly to speech than it should. Do you know what I mean? Do you ever find yourself saying something that you regretted almost as soon as it was out of your mouth -- words that hurt; words that bind; words that do not build another up or offer encouragement?

Great advice over the years has been that slow count – 1, 2, 3, 4 …9, 10. It is helpful but sometimes it’s not enough. Quick words without enough thought can lead to more quick words, which can lead to increasing irritation and anger.

James’ advice is to be quick, yes, but quick to listen. Taking time to listen can teach us a great deal. Listening--without getting our next speech ready. Listening—to hear what lies behind or underneath the words. Listening—to the depths of another’s heart. Listening—to how God’s Spirit is moving in and through us to be a witness of grace.

Be quick to listen, and then slow to speak. When I am impassioned, or angered, my words can come out like barbs. When I take time to listen, and then ponder what I hear before my words take shape, there is more space to allow God to dwell in the silence and in the words.

Oh, to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slower yet to anger. It is seldom that anger is truly righteous anger. When I feel the anger begin to rise, or rush to burst forth, the best thing I can do is to say out loud, “I need to go think,” “I need to cool down,” “I’ll be back and then we can talk.” Physiologically, when anxiety and anger begin to take over, our higher functions of reasoning begin to be overpowered by our more primitive instincts. Taking time to cool down allows the adrenaline levels to lower, which helps us think more clearly, and which allows us to hear God’s Spirit at work within us.

Questions

My father gave me a great gift.  Daddy always said that questions are important. “If you don’t ask,” he would say, “you have only one answer.” At other times he would say, “If I stop asking questions, I’ll stop growing, and I’ll be dead.” In many ways, my father had a very simple faith and yet he never discouraged me in asking questions. Driving home from church as a kid, I would start talking about something in the sermon or from our Sunday School lesson and ask questions.

Becky’s professor of systematic theology, Dr. Beverly Mitchell, is my partner in facilitating one of the groups of seminary interns. She says, “I serve a God who can handle the questions.” I figure if I am asking questions and honestly seeking answers then I am staying in relationship. I think God honors that. I don’t have to have all the answers sewn up into a neat package. I don’t have to understand it all. Sometimes I feel like I need certitude, especially when things are shifting around me, but some of the greatest growth comes for me when someone asks a question that shakes me, that makes me stop and think. It helps me think about what is most important.

What is most important is that I give thanks for the questions. I especially give thanks that our God is big enough, vast enough, to provide mystery and allow our imaginations to play. This God who in some awesome way is Three-in-One enters into the dialogue and helps to open me up to keep growing in loving relationship with God and others.

Worries

“What? Me worry?” Mad Magazine’s Alfred E. Neuman would say. Bobby McFerrin sang, “Don’t worry, be happy.” Pumba & Timon sang, “Hakuna matata,” in The Lion King.“ That’s Swahili for “no worries for the rest of life.”

Oh, that might be nice if I could just turn off the worry machine, but I’m afraid that just doesn’t work. I have concerns. I have a lot of details that need looking after. So I have worries. Normal household worries. Normal parent worries. Normal job worries. Add to those now, worries about health, about chemo outcomes. Will or when will this metastasized cancer pop up again in Jeff?

When Jesus told his disciples not to worry, I don’t think he meant a kind of amnesiac version of not worrying. He ended the whole thing by saying, “strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness…” God knows that we have concerns over the details of our lives. These concerns are not unimportant, but the question becomes--do these concerns take over our lives so that we have no attention left for what is most important?

It can be especially hard when I wake in the middle of the night with my brain whirring 1000 mph, when the worries and details seem overwhelming. That’s when I can “turn my eyes upon Jesus.” If I can keep my eyes turned to Jesus, then all else will find a way into balance, the worries and details need not overwhelm me. They can assume their appropriate place of being a part of living a life of God-graced purpose.

And so, instead of saying, "What? Me worry?" I pray, "Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." Instead of singing, "Don't worry, be happy," I sing, "The Lord is my light, my light and salvation. In God I trust, in God I trust." Instead of humming, "Hakuna matata," I mouth the words, "Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in his wonderful face..."

Happy would-have-been-83rd birthday, Daddy!

 Thanks be to God for my father who was born 83 years ago today. He died in 1992 at the age of 64. We miss him very much.

This was Mickey Morris when he was a young sailor.This was a double exposure taken when he was stationed on Kodiak Island.

Here he was a young lad.

My daddy with me at my cousin Joan's wedding in August, 1974.

What is most important...

Sometimes, my life gets so focused on tasks that need to be accomplished that I can become either myopic-concentrating on the near at hand-or so far-sighted that I miss what is up close. Now these tasks that claim my focus are not unimportant. Besides some of the day-to-day tasks of making a home for a family, dealing with health issues, there are also the details of being a part of the ministry of Christ Crossman UMC-planning for worship, preparing to preach, visiting, praying, teaching.... These are all important, however sometimes I need to be brought out of that intense focus. This morning, a fortuitous greeting brought me that relief.

Two-year old R came to the office with his mom, K, while she was a volunteer counter. Now I have known R his whole long life, but have never gotten to be with him for any length of time. I was surprised when he reached out his arms for me to hold him, and without any prelude, gave me a kiss. He said he liked the rain, and then he snuggled in on my shoulder. We went into my office where he drew roads and colored tracings of his hand.

Thank you, R, for reminding me of what is most important this morning.

If for any moment we forget that Jesus came to give us life, all we have to do is be with a child, in their space, for just a few minutes, and gain a deeper perspective. Our God did not and does not look upon us from afar, but came to be with us in the midst of life, offering us the undeserved, unmerited kiss of grace.

If onlys

A few weeks ago a friend posted this status on Facebook: "If only, if only, if only...I'm not sure if those 2 words are the healthiest...." She meant it about wanting the parmesan cheese to be put in the same place consistently, but it really caught my eye, and my mind. I have been thinking quite a bit about this lately. I find it so easy to say, "if only," when something does not go my way. If only the boys would pick up after themselves... If only that driver would go faster/slower... If only things had gone differently...If only Jeff's cancer hadn't metastasized... If only, if only, then the world would be perfect, right?

When we say, "if only," we are often engaging in wishful thinking--wanting someone else to be who and what we want them to be, not themselves at all. We want situations to go our way.
I find when I get into an "If only" kind of place, then I stop seeing someone for who they are with all the possibilities God has for them; I stop relishing the moment that God has given me. When I start saying "if only," then I'm cutting off my ability to live within the flow of God's grace.
When I come to an "if only" place, I hope to learn to say the Jesus prayer instead: "Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."

Do you have "if only" moments too?

Serving in ministry with the people of Christ Crossman is a deep privilege for me. You teach me so much about faithful living in the midst of difficult times. The fellowship that we share as we serve together is beyond all gold and silver.