The Nasty Grinch.

Before I start into this, some of you have wondered what it is I do in the wedding industry. I did some planning and some coordinating for a while and now…well…I design wedding veils.
Yep. There you have it. If you are getting married or know anyone who is, I can help make them beautiful.
Check out some of my stuff here and here.

With that out of the way, the Grinch didn’t steal Christmas this year.
Now I realize that that goes against the title, but to abate the fears of my adorable 3 and 6 year old nieces we had to convince them, night after night that, indeed, the Grinch A. Is not real and B. He won’t be stealing all their presents.

How adorable. The thought makes me laugh. While I have never actually seen the movie, except for the 5 minutes my nieces saw that scared them out of their wits, I think I understand a little bit about Grinch-ness.

You are probably wondering what’s going on in my little heart as I say I know something about Grinch-ness, and not three weeks ago I told you that I woke up feeling more like the Ice Queen than the Wolf Queen. I’m ok, really. I promise. But there has been just a little “harshness” in me lately and I don’t really know why. Sweetness and kindness, I admit, have never been the first two words that come to mind when people describe me, but this snappy-ness has been a little out of character, even for me.

I was praying about it recently and I think I have a little lack of joy in my life. No apparent reason, it’s just where I find myself. So I continue to pray about it. I have a few thoughts on it, but I will get into that some other time.

I was visiting a friend last week and we were talking about those jars people have that they put money in when they do something bad. You know, like “Swear Jars” or “Nail-biting Jars” or “Laziness Jars.” How it works is that whenever you do said jar title (swear, bite your nails, or exhibit laziness) action you have to put money in the jar. Like as a punishment.

We were laughing about them, trying to figure out which jar we would particularly need and it occurred to me that I think sometimes I need a “Nasty Jar.”

How is it possible that we are capable of being our nastiest to the people we love the most? Or the most impatient with them, or the most rude with them, whatever?

Is it the classic case of familiarity breeds contempt? Is it that we know we are safe with them and therefore we can kind of “kick-the-cat” because they won’t leave us?
I’m not totally sure about this phenomena, I just know it exists.
Regardless of what produces it, I have decided that it needs to be curbed in my life.
Hence, The Nasty Jar. I now have to pay whenever I am nasty…and I hate spending money.
And would you believe that it has helped? Like I didn’t snap but once at any of my family the entire week we were together. What a Christmas miracle: loads of people and children in the house and no snapping.
Ha.

Now, sure, maybe this is not really spiritual, threatening yourself into good behavior, for surely that’s not what the Lord does. He saves and gives grace and there is always abundant mercy daily new.
But it does say something about wages, doesn’t it? Like do we sometimes forget that all of those wages…the wages of sin…the wages of my nastiness…did in fact have to be paid by SOMEONE?

Someone asked me what I am going to do with all the money I had to put in the nasty jar and I said, “Probably give it to the person I was nasty to.”

And in some reversed way, isn’t that what Jesus did?
Like, I was nasty, but then HE put money in the nasty jar; he is the one who made the sacrifice to pay the price of MY nastiness; but then he turned around and gave me, the one who had been nasty, the reward of the paid wages—the money-filled Nasty Jar. He poured out jars full of grace, payment, blessing, onto me because of the sin that I HAD COMMITTED.  Like, because I accepted his saving, I benefitted from the nastiness.

I think this is what Paul comes in and talks about in Romans 6. “What shall we say then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?” (verse 1-2)

I mean, if we did the math, and if salvation is like the nasty jar, the Roman argument does make some kind of sense: the more I am nasty, the more money Jesus will put in the jar, therefore the more I will benefit in the long run.
But no.
Because being nasty so that I can receive more grace is not a blessing to me, it’s a trampling of him, and that’s what the Romans hadn’t quite figured out yet. Jesus did not pay our wages to give us license to sin and sin and sin and sin so that we build up more grace coming towards us, he paid the wages more in like he paid the check.

Have you ever read that verse earlier in Romans? Chapter 4 verse 7. “Blessed are they whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered….”

It’s like when you go out to a restaurant and order crazy amounts of food, only to get to the end of the night and the person you are with grabs the check. “Oh no, no, no. I couldn’t let you pay for that! I ate so much. I didn’t plan on you paying for it!” you respond. And the person just smiles, doesn’t let go of the bill, and says to you, “I got it covered.” At the thought of their generosity you wish you hadn’t eaten as much, don’t you? You wish you had been more thoughtful of how much they had to pay for you.
That’s the kind of wages Jesus paid. He finalized the bill of sale so that we could leave the restaurant, he didn’t pay for us to gorge ourselves on the endless sin/endless grace buffet.

Now, don’t get all in a huff. I realize and understand to the core of me that there is grace for every time I sin, but does it make sense that grace isn’t a license, it’s a payment?

Our nastiness cost him something, Wolfies. Let’s not trample that.

Money had to be put in the jar. Our junk had to be paid for.
And sometimes the most tangible means have to be put into effect for me to realize that.

~~~

 

Because neither the Grinch nor my Nastiness stole Christmas, we ended up having a capital time.

This is what a 3 year old thinks the Nasty Face looks like.

And this is how a 6 year old does a Nasty Face.

Apparently taking my earrings out and putting them back in again is good for like...hours of fun.

The excitement is....brilliant.

Dont' believe everything you see...he can't actually read yet.

Vacuum boxes make for really good fun on Christmas morning.

Sistas. By law. And love.

I have this massive family. And this is all the grandchildren. Except 7 of them. And would you believe that out of all the grandkids only two of them don't have blue eyes? Yeah. No joke.

A lovely favorite aunt of mine. She is the muse behind the Swag and Buckle, kids. Brilliant.

Life, Wonderful.

This is what my world usually looks like in the winter. Nice, pretty.

But not yesterday. No. Yesterday you couldn’t see anything. So much so that it wasn’t worth taking a picture…because you wouldn’t have been able to see anything. The night before brought the snow. And the morning brought the wind. We were snowed in.

Needless to say…yesterday was kind of a grey day all around. Not tons of motivation. A wandering mind.

So last night I thought I would see if my dad would want to watch a movie. His favorite. It’s a Wonderful Life.

Why do we only ever watch this movie at Christmas? Anyway, it’s so good. But I am always so shocked by how brutal it is, how honest it is. They would never allow anyone to make a movie like that these days. And there is this one honest line that got me tonight that I apparently have never heard before.
When Clarence and George are sitting in that bar right after the “change” takes place and the bartender is looking at them like they are two nut jobs, Clarence says to George, “Why? Don’t they believe in angels?” George whispers “Yes, they believe in angels” and Clarence questions back with, “If they believe then why are they so surprised to see one?”

It’s the classic question, really. If they believe, then why are they so surprised?

In a very grey-day fashion, another line from the beginning of the movie struck me as well. “Clarence, you need to go help someone.”

“Why, is the person sick?”
“No, worse. He is discouraged.”

Isn’t that interesting? I think there is a whole lot of truth in it, too.

So maybe the devil was working overtime. Maybe he took advantage of the lack of sun yesterday, but I think I was a little discouraged. Maybe even a little doubtful.

Do you ever wonder if what you believe is really real? When the materialist mind takes over doesn’t it ask you to question, “How could all of that really happen?”

The devil has the advantage of time and space. We weren’t there 2,000 years ago. We don’t personally have any experience with mangers, or bright stars, or crosses.

“We don’t do that anymore.”
We have microwaves and airplanes and iPads.
We know things like that, so anything that is out of the realm of THAT kind of REAL stuff is easy for the devil to make us question.
And discouragement is the best way to get us to question. Because not only do we maybe linger over a doubt, the blah-ness of our attitude makes us add at the end of the doubt, “And who cares anyway? What does any of it matter?”

Success. There is the devil’s success. For us to think that none of it really matters anyway. Because the natural progression for us, if we don’t get a reality check, is to then just stop whatever doesn’t matter anyway.

Like prayer. Or going to church. Or valuing marriage. Or caring for people.

I work in the wedding industry, you know this (maybe some of you didn’t know that. I was a wedding planner, now I design custom bridal adornments), and while my job can be all fun and beautiful and exciting—for what is not fun, beautiful, and exciting about a wedding?—it can also be…not so fun.
Like when you are working for people who don’t, what I would say, “get it.” As in the ones who

don’t realize that marriage is, according to the Bible, the most mysterious, glorious, and fierce showing of the love of Christ to his church, not just some convenient, need-meeting relationship.

But the worst is on grey days, like yesterday, when discouragement pops in and I find myself thinking, “Is marriage REALLY eternal? Is it REALLY gospel? Does this thing I am creating to help make a bride feel more beautiful really have ANY significance? Do I REALLY believe in the symbolism of this thing?”

Or what about when you know you need to pray for someone more, but then you catch yourself and think, “Does it really change anything anyway? Why would I talk to God? Doesn’t he already know my thoughts?”

Does sin REALLY need to be atoned for, we wonder? Are we sure that “guilt” is not just some man-made emotion we feel sometimes? Did animal sacrifices really keep wrath at bay to then be poured out so excruciatingly on this guy who said he was God?

Or what about when our minds get caught up in church on the worship leaders, or how much we don’t like the tune of the song, and we are not at all focused on the fact that we are singing TO someone…because…are we really? Are we sure it’s not all just blah, blah, blah?

And why do we try to help people? Won’t we all be dead in 100 years anyway? Are people really going to live after they die?

Don’t look at me like that. I know you all have thought it. How do I know this? Because we have all been discouraged.

And then I smile. Why have we been discouraged and thought these thoughts that maybe, just maybe, eternity doesn’t exist and maybe, just maybe, this material world has no correlation to some spiritual world?

Because of a spiritual being. Who very spiritually rebelled. Who chose to dishonor a very spiritual God who rules not only all of the spiritual world, but this material one, too.
Oh, the hi-jinks! Oh, the irony! The devil has done his job best when he gets you and me to believe that he does not exist…and that none of this really matters.

Because the truth is, Wolfies, all of it DOES really matter. Marriage really IS gospel, it really IS eternal. Is it scarred and damaged and totally run amuck? More so than it ever should be.

And prayer? Is it REALLY talking to this God who will always know us better than we know him? Yeah, it is.
Worship really does move mountains in the heavenlies, people really do need to be cared for, there really is symbolism to be found in material objects that can affect you spiritually. Yes to all of the above. There are real consequences in both the spiritual and material world for both the spiritual and material things we do.

The other day I read Luke 4 and verse 1 caught me: “Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit…” and for the first time it hit me: the same spirit that was in Jesus’ physical body (which is as much of a physical body as mine is), is in me. It has lived inside both of us. It’s like if it was a heart transplant. The heart that was once in his body is now in mine.
Now I know it’s not really a heart transplant, but the thought puts a little flesh to the concept. It brings a little 21^st century to the picture. Brings all this manger and bright star and rugged cross madness into our madness of microwaves and airplanes and iPads. It makes this “Spirit” real.

And sure, maybe some of you think I am “mystical” or something. Thinking that our eternity can be affected by our marriages, or thinking that taking a meal to someone who is sick can give us actual crowns we will receive after we die, or thinking that pretty songs we sing in church are actually us storming the gates of hell. And yes, maybe my mind can’t stop thinking that this material world is actually just a cover for some spy-like, piratical, Lord of the Rings-esque existence we all actually lead in the spiritual world but don’t realize. Call me mystical. I don’t care.  Call me out of touch with reality. Call me hyper-spiritual.

But part of me thinks that everybody thought that about Noah, too. He was WAY too spiritual. Took it all too seriously, no doubt. We forget it was a real flood, that killed…like…billions of people.

And don’t for a second tell me that Simeon (Luke 2:25-) didn’t cause quite a socially unacceptable stir in the temple as he runs over to this baby and pulls it out of its mother’s arms declaring the he is the one they have waited for!! Glory BE! It was socially unacceptable then, and it would be today.

Forget 2,000 years ago, forget no electricity, forget far, distant lands that are in our imagination but we never believe we can touch, forget that we all kind of think none of this stuff really happened...but remember that it all happened in the same Egypt…and the same Israel…and the same Rome…that today has microwaves, and that we can get in an airplane and go to; this stuff happened to real people, who lived in real bodies and ate real food and had real jobs. All of this “spiritual” stuff that we read about in this spiritually-discerned book really did happen here in this material world on this same green planet.

The craziest thing about this time of year, kids, is that all of the stories are true. Spiritual things happened in a very material world that affected all of those people very spiritually.

And it’s still happening today. The same Jesus who lived in Israel, who spoke the world into motion, who will tame wolves, who ate real food, who had a Spirit inside him that can be inside you, is the same one who tells us to be on our guard against discouragement, and to expect his coming. Because if we REALLY believe, then why are we surprised when we see him?

Man of Sorrows.

Wolfies, I have been thinking a lot lately about the death of Christ.
In all its gruesome detail.
I will be working, or doing dishes, or driving, or listening to Christmas music and all of the sudden, as if I am seeing it before my very eyes, I see this body in my mind, covered in red, his own blood, no doubt, carrying rough wood, surrounded by people.
Trample. Run. Noise. Chaos. Slow Motion.

And then that’s it. As if I have awakened from a terrible dream, I see it no longer. But I do remember.

Days later, weeks later, I see it again. Still fresh, as if I have never seen it before. It still catches my breath.
And all I can think is, “That’s how far he had to go. That’s what he had to do. For me.  And he did.”

I think I have started to cry, I am sure. Most definitely I look very strange if anyone saw me. I am sure you think I am one of those weepy girls, what with some of my recent posts, but truth be told, I’m not; I don’t cry in front of anybody.

And if someone accidentally sees me while I am crying, I always try to stop real fast and usually say something like, “Sorry…”
Something about crying over this, though. I don’t really feel any need to apologize. Not to those who saw me cry, at least. No.

I do kind of feel like I need to apologize to him, though.

My Man of Sorrows.

Isn’t that an interesting title to think about him at this time of year? We call him Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace, Everlasting Father, Savior, Immanuel.

Not so much Man of Sorrows.
Not at Christmas. We like to keep that reserved for Good Friday.

But yet this year I can’t stop myself from thinking it. It’s why he came. The Wise Men knew it; look at the gifts they gave.

Sometimes I wonder if they knew why they were giving him such things, or was it just a small voice that whispered to them, “Take the King gold. Take the Healer frankincense. And take the One who will die in your place myrrh.”
I don’t know.
I don’t know if they knew to what extent what they were doing. I don’t know if they knew the small child would bear their sorrows.

This year, I know it. In this year, the one I kind of feel like I dealt with some of my issues, I know he knows my sorrows. I know he bore it.

Have you ever thought that Jesus has known every emotion you have ever felt that was due to sin? Have you ever thought that he knows all of your guilt? Have you ever thought that he knows all of the injustice you have suffered?

And he doesn’t know it just as if he has seen it, but he knows it because he BORE it. Right there, hanging by on that rough wood. As if that weren’t enough. Our Man of Sorrows.
I suppose you could say he died of 7 billion broken hearts, because aren’t those caused by sin? And didn’t he take on all our sin? Isn’t that what he was doing?

He is our Man of Sorrows not just because he saw all of the broken hearts, not just because he paid the penalty for them and all the other sin we so easily and happily get ensnared to, but because he took it on as if it was his own, he wore it like a garment, he drank it like a poison, he endured it like a cancer. Ours became his. And he became our Savior. Our Man of Sorrows. Bearing all of our thousands of deaths that we know in desperate places.

Maybe that’s why I get a little weepy. Not only did he see, not only did he save, but he bore.

My Man of Sorrows.

~~~~

My favorite Christmas song is entitled that. I can find it nowhere on the internet to give you a link to, but here are the lyrics.

He was a man of sorrows. Acquainted with our grief. A man despised and rejected. Surely we esteemed him not.

Nothing to make us desire him; beauty nor majesty. Not one attracted unto him, yet he took up our infirmities. Bore the sorrow and the suffering.

He was pierced for our transgressions. Crushed for our iniquities and wounded for us all. Good Man of Sorrows.

Led as a lamb to the slaughter; afflicted, had no rest. This man who’d done no violence, never spoke his own defense.

Cut off from the land of the living, so stricken for my sin. A sign of grace to the wicked; bore the will of God in suffering. Guilt, the emblem of his offering.

And though he so suffered greatly, the Lord shall prolong his days. And the will of God shall prosper in his hand. He will see the light of life and shall be satisfied.

The will of God was to bruise him. The weight of guilt made to crush him. By stain of sin he was wounded. Good Man of Sorrows. Offered for sin.

Never was one so afflicted. So marred a body’s appearance. Beyond the likeness of human. Visage of suffering. All men hid their faces.

 This precious Man of sorrows. Poured out His life unto dying. Thereby the Lord's righteous servant justifies many. Pardon for all.

His act will sprinkle the nations. He will be highly exalted. O, sinner's great Intercessor. Good Man of sorrows. Raised high He is lifted up.

~~

This Christmas, raise high the Man of Sorrows in your heart, in your life, in your home. He already raised himself onto a high, rough cross for you.

A Gifting.

I’ve been thinking about gifts lately.
No, not those gifts. Not the ones you buy or make to give someone for Christmas. The other gifts, those spiritual ones. The ones God already gave us.
Those gifts.
Anyway, gifts.
And while we are talking about this, let me clarify something:
During the course of this blog post when I say the word “Gift” I don’t want to restrict myself to those listed as technical “Spiritual gifts” (teaching, prophecy, mercy, discernment, etc), i.e. the ones listed in the Bible, but rather my definition is “Any thing, talent, or ability you possess that God has given you that you didn’t ask for.”

For whatever reason, I was born decently organized. Be it paperwork, houses, party rooms, whatever, I can pretty easily figure out where something needs to be and then I have the ability to put it where it should go. I never asked to be organized, I just came that way.

As you well know, I was an event coordinator for a while and this skill in particular came in especially handy.
But here is the interesting thing: I helped coordinate a few parties this week (just for fun, not for work) and I was overwhelmed by how my brain absolutely DID NOT function along those lines anymore, and I was also shocked at how my legs did not hold me up under pressure and long days like they used to. I stopped coordinating parties only like a year ago and let’s just put it this way: I am no longer in my finest hour.
Yikes.

Another thing about me that you maybe don’t know is that I have played piano for, if my math serves me right, 18 years.

Now to be completely fair to those who really have PLAYED piano for 18 years I should really say this:
I took piano lessons for 13 years, and the other five have really just looked like me still knowing how to read music.
 In other words there was not much playing going on. True, I had not lost my knowledge of how to play, but my ability in the non-lesson-taking years left something to be desired…
This became very apparent to me the other day when I sat down to “tickle the ivories” and really, it was more like assault than tickle. There was nothing gentle anymore. My piano playing muscles were “rusty” to say the least.

About 2 years ago I was given some stuff called Eye Shadow Insurance by a friend. Pretty much it’s this cream you put on your eye lids that keeps your eye shadow on. Great stuff (I know, guys, this sounds like Blah, blah, blah to you). But halfway through my using of the little tube the thought occurred to me, “Maybe you should just save this for special occasions. You certainly don’t need this for every day…” So I put it away; used it for special occasions.
But here’s the problem. The other day I got it out to use…for a special occasion…and, well, it kind of smelled.
Smelled the way cosmetics smell after they have sat too long; not gotten used enough; lived in the cupboard.
The stuff had seen its better days.

After each of these experiences I think I said to myself, “What a waste! What have you been doing your whole life!??! How have you let things get this far???”

Do you know what I mean? To find yourself somehow at a loss about something you used to be brilliant about? Or to find that something has lost its glimmer in the time you thought you were preserving it?

What a waste.

And I think about these gifts we have—these qualities, characteristics, talents, abilities—that we never asked for, never prayed for, but were just given.
I Peter 4:10 says that “Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.”

Have you ever known somebody that you just could never get enough of? Or what about a person who, after you have not seen them for a time, you find yourself saying , “Wow! I just need to see So-and-So!”

And why is that, do you think?

Could it possibly be because they offer a grace of God to us that we need? This verse here says that God’s grace comes in various forms, and that it gets administered to people through the use of the gifts we have been given. So I don’t know what other conclusion we can come to but that we feel drawn to people who offer the grace that we need the most in our life. And relationships, you know the ones that are a two-way street, I would say are made up of people who both offer what the other person needs.

That’s why people hang out. I think that’s a huge part of it. Both parties are getting their grace-tanks filled by the other.

What happens then to the body of Christ (made up of his chosen people) when people do not use those gifts that God has given them? Now I understand that this verse probably is talking about the prescribed gifts in the Bible, but we cannot deny that God gifts us with all kinds of abilities, things, talents, whatever, outside of this list. Don’t take my word on this verbatim (as you probably shouldn’t about anything—you need to search out these things for yourself), but I think I am on to something.

And what happens when we just put our gifts aside and say, “Well, I’ll use it when the time is right”?

Might I suggest, that, like my ability to plan a party, play the piano, or the effectiveness of a makeup product, gifts that go unused become—get this—a little worse for the lack of wear. As P.G. Wodehouse would say, “It would be idle to deny that he was something of a mess.” Gifts do not “winter” well.

What is our hang up then? If we know that our gifts are given to us by the Lord, to be used on anyone who is in need of the kind of grace we offer, and we know that they do not age well if left unattended, why are we not just out there running amuck with them?

I think the first reason is fear, but in the church it is typically masked in some kind of false humility. We don’t want to look like we are better at something than someone else.
Another is something the church says “Not causing another to stumble.” Which a lot of times gets translated into us not using our gifts because we think it might arouse jealousy in someone else. Again, not wanting ourselves to “look better than someone else.”

You think I’m kidding, don’t you?

Well, what if you have an amazing voice, but you’re not using it for the Lord (apart from a reason like God has told you to take a step back from a ministry). Why not? Is it because someone has said to you, “Oh gosh, I just wish I could sing like you…” and then that made you feel guilty that you could sing and they couldn’t?

Or what if you are really good at teaching, but you aren’t teaching? Are you not teaching because you don’t want others to think that you think you “know it all”?

What if the Lord has given you a knack for entertaining or design (and btw, don’t ever let anyone say, “Well I don’t have the gift of hospitality.” Hospitality is not a gift—it’s a command), but you are not inviting people over to your house? Are you not because you don’t want them to think that you are “showy” or “trying to impress” them?

Or what if you are an athlete or artist or hunter or any number of other things we are good at, but you are not including somebody in your life in this activity because you don’t want them to “feel bad about themselves”? You know what I am talking about.

This might sound totally counter-cultural, but I am going to pose a very serious question:
But what if you ARE better at it than they are, whatever “it” is and whoever “they” are?

I know, I just tread into some serious mud.

But at the same time I just don’t think so! Because isn’t that the point? That we are better at other things than other people? Because we were gifted with things others weren’t!
Here’s the catch, though: They are better at different things than us.
Which is exactly the way it is supposed to be. We can’t all offer the same grace.

So there can be no room for pride here, there can be no room for jealousy.

No room for pride based solely on the fact that YOU DID NOTHING TO DESERVE YOUR GIFT. You didn’t work hard to get it (sure some things, like playing the piano, take practice, honing, but the original skill or bent is given), you didn’t seek it out, it came to you.
And there is no room for jealousy because we are called to use “whatever gift” we have received, which implies that we indeed HAVE received a gift. You don’t need someone else’s gift: you have your own.
Which boils down to, “Don’t think more highly of yourselves than you ought” and “do not covet.” Pretty standard guidelines.

Bottom line? We are robbing the treasury in God’s family when we do not administer his grace in all its various forms.

Wolfies, you are a part of the way God wants to touch this world! You are a part of the way he is going to show the world himself. Because after all, it’s HIS grace, it’s HIS gifts, he just wants us to administer them. You never know who might need the kind of grace that you offer. Don’t hide it under a bushel, kids. No. Let it shine.

Something to look forward to.

Maybe you haven’t noticed (I have), but I haven’t been on a trip in something outrageous like seven weeks. And get this: I don’t have any airline tickets booked.
Shocking, I know. It’s strange, no doubt, but I am finding that one does get used to it.
To delay any anxiety about this truth I took a little time yesterday looking at pictures from my time in the Pacific Northwest this summer.

And here is one I completely forgot about. The story goes that my favorite 15 year old boy stole my camera…and then days later I found this on the memory card:

I think he was trying to make it look like he is squashing my head.

Ha. What a doll.

 Since I have been home for what seems like decades now, there has been a resurgence of a belief I started holding a while back: there is very little worth staying out for past 11 pm.

It started as a funny joke between me and a friend as we were saying sometimes we feel like 80 year old women trapped in the bodies of 20-something girls, because we like to garden and crochet or embroider and, get this—hate being out past 11 pm, but it really has evolved into this deep-seeded truth.

While I am finding myself QUITE content to be home and to, yes –believe it, not stay out past 11 pm, I will admit that there is something very strange, even maybe a little unnerving, about not having any trip-plans all set in stone for the future. Not having any tickets purchased. Not having some get-away I am working towards.

Oh sure, there will be Christmas which I have to drive to. And then a family thing this winter which I have to drive to. All wonderful things, but nothing I will have to strategically plan for, go through security for, pull out clothing for a different climate.

It always happens this way then, when no plans are crowding my mind, that I find myself praying, “Well, Lord. Now what? What should I think about now?”

How strange, really. Praying for something to think about.

And praying I was the other day. I suppose because it’s December my mind wandered to Christmas during this prayer time. I am always so moved at the verse in 1 John—which I associate with Christmas—that simply says, “The life appeared,” (Chapter 1, verse 2). And he appeared in a way they weren’t expecting. Not as a conquering militant king, not as a political super power, not as a play-by-the-rules religious leader, but as a baby. Helpless, hunted, and miraculously human.

Do you think he ever wondered “What now?” I mean, clearly this question is hypothetical, for he knew the future. But he had those first 30 years. Do you think he ever got bored of it? Was he ever “chomping at the bit”?

Who knows. It does make me wonder, though, as I sit in these seasons of life.

Or do you ever wonder why he chose to be born THAT YEAR??? Why was that the time his patience had come due? Why was Mary the one he chose, of all the girls in Israel, why her? Why was Joseph the one chosen to be his earthly step dad? Why were those specific shepherds chosen to send the angelic choir to?

The mind of God is unfathomable, and I am ok with that. I know his character enough to know that he will tell me what I need to know, if I need to know it. Which is a fact I can rest in.

For whatever reason, the Life appeared at that time, to those people. They were the ones who saw it. He chose that their times were going to be his times, too.  He had told them for centuries to look for him. He promised he was coming. He told them to be ready.

In praying about these “Now what?” moments and thinking about the people before Christ came, I thought, “At least they had something to look forward to. They knew you were coming, Jesus.”

I smiled. At that point I remembered one key thing, one thing I admit I have not been thinking about enough:

The next coming.

Do you ever feel like you forget that he is coming again?!!? I mean, how do I do that?! Is there really anything else to think about at all!?!? I have gone off all over the world and have had adventures and seen amazing, beautiful, and miraculous things and somehow thought that it was all really—Something.

But compared to what’s coming for me, what—if you know Christ—is coming for you, all of those “somethings” are really nothing!

My greatest adventures are yet to take place. I could take this world by storm, I could traverse all lands by hot air balloon and all waters by sail boat but nothing, and I mean nothing, will compare to the great something that is COMING! God, in his infinite wisdom, hasn’t regaled to us all details of how it will all happen, when it will all happed, but he has told us enough to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it WILL happen. That it’s something we need to be looking forward to!

As I was flipping through some of those pictures I found another one that the boy must have taken at the same time as all the others I didn’t know he was taking:

 

It looks like he is coming to take me away.
And isn’t that a part of the next Great Adventure, too?

So the next time you find yourself in some situation where someone asks you “Now what do you have to look forward to?” we can say with confidence, “I’m waiting for the Life to appear—again. And this time he is taking me with him.”

Graces.

Come every  December my mind can’t help but meander back through the year. Taking stock of what happened, what didn’t happen, what I learned, what I’d like to learn, and marveling over how Jesus somehow always works things out. Which gives me confidence to know that whatever we are facing come December will one day, too, see itself worked out.
And what did I surmise from my ponderings? This was a year of change for me.
My heart finished healing; and then I “grew up” (a.k.a finally accepted the fact that I am somehow old enough to be what you would call “an adult”….where does the time go?)

Scriptures do it all the time for me, naturally, but isn’t it funny what else can bring your mind back to Christ because that thing drew you closer to him, showed you more of him? Be it a song, a movie, a book, a friend, a stranger, a pomegranate, whatever. Then out of nowhere it seems you are reminded of some time when you needed Jesus to be something, meet you somehow somewhere, and he did. He came through.

I think about growing “from grace to grace,” and how the grace I needed at one time I need no longer. Not that I don’t need grace now, by no means! I just need a different grace now.

I went to Texas in October. You know this. And this was not the first time I have driven back from Texas with the same very dear friend. No, we had been there before. Done that.

Yet I am astonished at how a lapse of time can change the experience, do you know what I mean? We were on the same roads. We were driving in the same states. And I know I say this like…all the time…but the difference is that we weren’t the same people.

When my friend and I were coming home from San Antonio we listened to the playlist from our previous San Antonio trip, just for old time’s sake. What a rush of memory, emotion. Those songs remind us of Oklahoma and stories that involve cowboys (which is one of my best stories, I will add) and coming adventures and gushy dreams all wrapped up in a layer of giggles. 20-something girl giggles.

Yes, men, we never stop that. Sorry. Women giggle till they die.

This time driving through Oklahoma, listening to the same songs we giggled about not two years ago, everything was different. Gone were the giggles, not replaced with sadness in the least, but gone nonetheless. The adventures had been had. Gushy dreams may or may not have come true.

But we were ok with it. Because what came about was better.

At the time of all the giggles (and I will add that I have giggled about a lot), all the dreams, all the excitement on the horizon, that was good. And they turned out to be good. God crafted those, used those, grew us in those. They were good. The giggles were a symbol of the grace we needed at that time.

It was Jesus gracing us with what we needed.
When we needed it.
Because he knows how to do that, because he knows us better than we do.

This time the grace we felt was deeper. More stable. More strong, felt with more conviction because it had been to us what we needed just that many more times. If grace could be more beautiful maybe we would describe it as that. I think we were more astounded by it this time around. Not to say that what we had at one time was fake or phony or somehow lacking, we simply had moved from grace….to grace.

We moved on to different songs after that trip down memory lane. I think we both reveled for a while, caught up in some conversation with the Giver of all things good, which in itself is an amazing thing to be able to do. Communion with God is grace, no doubt.

Goodness, I must be sappy tonight. Or maybe it’s just me trying to be intentional about putting thought into the Christmas season that brought this all on. Or maybe it’s because I saw certain movies again, or heard certain songs again that brings all of this to life. Convinces me of grace yet again and how his timing of it is always so perfect.

I stand amazed.

~~

In light of all this, my friend and I got together for a couple days, which is a grace in itself.

Her getting me all gussied up for a photoshoot for my business.
What a doll...a friend who does my hair.

In a little more normal of situation.

Hunting Season.

You can tell a certain time of year is upon you when you hear outside your window all day long Bang, Bang, Bang.

That’s right: Deer hunting season.

It’s as if some disease floods the veins of every man old enough to carry a gun. From dawn until dusk the boys are at it, driving everywhere in what appears to be some kind of rabid frenzy looking for “The Big One.”

Please note that to see two cars on my road at the same time has the odds of roughly zero to none, so seeing three at the same time is preposterous.

 

 They’re looking for the one they will brag about, be known for, and mount above the fireplace. It makes them a certain kind of famous, no doubt; to be the hunter that landed the season’s biggest buck.

Then there are those who do feed their families with these deer. While not so rabid-looking, these men are on a quest of their own. They are looking for an animal that is worth the effort.

Say what you want about hunting and animal rights, when you live in the middle of nowhere like I do, hunting is a major necessity; trust me, even after the season is over the population will still be healthy and strong. White-tailed deer we have no shortage of.

This morning however, I was on my way home from something and I looked to my left, out to an open field and I saw the most interesting scene. Animals are creatures of instinct and whether their behavior is a conscious thought to them or not, their instincts make them act differently from time to time. There before me in the field was a little herd of deer. Six or seven of them. But what they were doing caught my eye: they were on guard.

Very low to the ground, almost unable to be seen, were two or three little deer, no doubt they were this spring’s babies. The other three or four deer were all facing a different direction.

Watching.

They stood there, and even the distance that separated us could not hide the fact from me that they were tense. As I said before, whether they knew why they were watching or not is irrelevant, but something in them was telling them to be alert. Be on their guard. And protect the little ones that can’t protect themselves.

It was the craziest scene for another reason as well: They were not hiding in the woods. They were hiding out in the open. If I was them, my brain would tell me, “Go hide under a tree, don’t be out where every hunter and his grandfather can be seeing you.”

But the more I thought about it the more I realized that maybe they WERE in the right spot, for although they had nothing to “protect” them, they also had nothing blocking their vision to see their predator coming. There was no way they could be surprised.

It was no surprise to me then when there in my yard were deer. On the run, they knew they were being chased.

 

 

I couldn’t help but think though, “I bet that buck has no idea they are all after HIM,” and if I could have spoken deer language I probably would have said, “You are more than welcome to stay in the yard; those men with guns aren’t allowed to shoot towards my house…”

I am no save-the-animals kind of person, mind you, and while I don’t believe in cruelty to animals (for I don’t believe in cruelty to ANYTHING), I also don’t have an issue with population control. All that to be said, there was some twinge of understanding that constricted my heart a bit as I watched those running deer: I felt like I, too, understand what it’s like to be hunted.

Call me mystical, but I see very close parallels between deer hunting season and the Christian life.

I Peter 5:8 says, “Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”

That’s a pretty strong verse, kids! This is serious business. And don’t for a second think that the devil is one of those hunters who is out there planning on feeding his family on you, just quietly, somewhat nonchalantly, waiting for you to come to him, not requiring much effort on his part.

No, no.

You are the buck.
You are the trophy he wants.
He wants to mount you on the wall.
He is hunting you.

If you are any kind of good Christian, following Christ and really desiring to do God’s will, you are a challenge to him because you threaten his territory. He views you as a rival. And even though he cannot change your eternal destiny (if you are saved by the grace of Christ) nothing makes a hunter more rabid than the thought of elusive prey.

What’s more is the devil tries to get us to hide in a forest, too, just like what my instinct would have advised those deer in the field to do. He doesn’t want us watching with wide eyes in the open, knowing he is coming! He wants to lure us to some place we think is “safe.”

Busy-ness. Ministry. Wholesome activities. Respectable Idolatry (kids, work, family, what-have-you),etc.  He wants to get us to think we are safe from his attacks, because we have too much “good” in our life. If that doesn’t work he will try to make us feel safe because all of our vulnerabilities are hidden: sex addictions, alcohol abuse, unhealthy or secret relationships, eating disorders, lust, greed, discontent, covetousness, whatever—anything we have convinced ourselves is safe or “Ok” because we really aren’t hurting anybody; it’s a private issue. Those are forests he likes to draw us into; whatever it takes to get our guard down; to distract us from seeing him coming.

But really, all of those things we insulate ourselves with, “protect” ourselves with, is really just like playing hide and seek with a kid. Children don’t actually hide, they just put a pillow in front of their face and think “If I can’t see you, that must mean you can’t see me.” Us going about, living our good little Christian lives and thinking somehow we have become untouchable because we can’t see anything else is a false security. If the only reason we feel secure is because we are covering our eyes to the predator we are dead wrong.

There is no amount of “good” we can do, there is no amount of secrecy we can cover our sins with, to insulate ourselves. We cannot hide from a hunter and we will have no leg to stand on by telling Jesus that at least we tried.

So what are we supposed to do, since hiding is not an option?

We can watch for him.

That verse I just shared says “Be alert! Be self-controlled!”

Why?
Because when we are not is the time the prowling lion goes in for the kill.
The moment you stop watching, the moment you think you have insulated yourself, the moment you think you are above temptation, is the moment that if we could hear what’s happening in the spiritual realm we would hear the Bang, Bang, Bang.
I Cor. 10:12 says “So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall!”
We are all susceptible.
We all have a predator.

But.

(Don’t you love whenever that happens!?)
But we are not totally like the deer:
We have been given armor; we have been given tools to fight back.
Read through Ephesians 6 today.

This battle (and don’t ever think it isn’t a raging battle) is not against flesh and blood. We do not fight as the world does, and we do not fight alone. We have One who took on the flesh and blood to win the spiritual fight for us, and win he did! He is the one who gives us this armor, he is the one who gained victory over the war, and he is the one who continues to fight for us.

Fight back? Yes we must because we are called to.

Fight alone? Never. (Exodus 14:14)
Don’t feel defeated—we are more than conquerors; just fight to maintain the victory.

And so, I hope these thoughts on deer season will give you new thoughts about the present Christmas season: Jesus didn’t come just to rescue the prey, Wolfies.  He came to kill the predator.

Ice Queen

Yesterday morning I felt like the Ice Queen.

No, not a figure skater.

The Ice Queen, as opposed to how I usually feel as The Wolf Queen (as some are known to call me).

Whatever the situation was, I woke up feeling a little, “Meh.” Hard in the heart, if you will.
It also looked like this outside of my house, which is beautiful, and I did think it was quite interesting that “my kingdom” and I had something in common that morning: Ice. Ha.
Hahahaha.

 

As the day went on it got better. Better because I was proactive about it.

Let’s be honest, nobody wants to be around an Ice Queen. She is hard, cold, and above all, not very moveable. Blah. Those are not good qualities. So how does one said Wolf Queen get herself out of this frozen state, supposing that it is just a bad day and not something more serious?

I think the obvious answers go without saying, but I will say them here:

1 & 2. Read your Bible and pray, ice-cold Wolfies. Why? Because it helps us remind ourselves that, get this—the thought is revolutionary—life is not about us.

Ah yes. What I seem to forget from time to time.

There also could be a very strong spiritual battle going on. The devil might really be attacking you with Despair, and we need to stop him in his tracks on that one. You are no longer territory he has any right to claim.

3. Something else I have found to be true about me is that I am better if I am making something. I tend to lean towards the creative side of life, so give me some fabric and give me some buttons and, inevitably, seeing that there IS still beauty in the world is a huge mood-improver. What things about life make you recognize good? Do that.

4. Go on a walk. Or a run. Or a bike ride. Or do something, and pray while doing it! On numerous occasions have I gone exercising with people and we just pray together the whole time. Rather than get together to complain, get together to praise. It’s a part of the Body-life we need to do more of, I am convinced. And do not downplay the fact that your emotions and your body and your mind are all connected. Make the whole of you healthy. Bring Jesus into ALL of it.

5. Go get involved in a ministry. Help somebody. I volunteer with the youth group at my church and…well…I think middle schoolers are like the greatest thing on the earth. There is nothing like seeing 4 teenagers race to see who can drink a smoothie of Thanksgiving leftovers the fastest (Yes, ‘tis true. Mashed Potatoes, Cranberries, Green Bean casserole, and pasta salad all blended together---with ice and milk. It happened. And it was hilarious) to make you laugh. And laughter is medicine for the soul--it's in the Bible. It's also in the Bible to serve others. Let's take this stuff seriously.

6. Practice thankfulness. I just moved earlier this year and haven’t been here much since I did move, so it is finally as if I have JUST moved, because I am finally now here full-time. And I hate moving. I hate going somewhere where you know no one and have to start over. I have done that enough in my life and don’t find it fun anymore. All that to say is lately I have felt a little—dare I say it—lonely. I have bucket loads of friends but almost none of them live where I live now, though. But distance and circumstances are not something we should let get us totally down. Thank the Lord for the people you DO have, whether near or far! Thank the Lord for whatever you do have, and I’m going to be bold and say this: thank the Lord for what you don’t have.

Psalm 84:11 says “No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.” What that means then is, if you can be counted in the blameless category (i.e. saved by Christ, repenting of sin, RUNNING from sin, following Christ, etc) then you not having something is not a bad thing: It’s a good thing. Because if it is not what God wants you to have, and you have it, that’s bad-news-bears. Not good. Not good.

Remember, you not having something, if God has withheld it, is a good thing. Don’t ever forget how wrong we can be about these things we think we want (For more on this thought read Never Be Convinced Of Your Own Desires).

There’s that, kids.

Let us be Ice Queens no more (or Ice Kings, too, I suppose:).

Recommend.

 I have never recommended other blogs on this one, but if you are ever looking for another one to read (and this is definitely more for my women readers), check out Resolved2Worship.

Read Resolved2Worship here.

Why am I telling you this? Because I decided this morning that I just want all of you to be more in love with Christ, and if this Alyssa can reach some of you where you are better than I can, I think it’s fabulous. There are things she has written that have put words to my thoughts and helped me understand things about the Lord better. She doesn’t know me from Eve, and I don’t know her from outside of her blog, but to her I am eternally grateful. And isn’t that what the body of Christ is for? To build others up? To bless others? And most of the time to never know that we had any influence on another (to keep us humble…)? Therefore, here is my recommendation.

Another reason I am telling you this is because the other day, as a friend of mine and I were letting the T-gives bird side effects wear off, I was re-reading through some of her old posts and came across a line that struck my fancy. She was talking about how one particular Christmas she was praying that she could see the season through the eyes her children do and she said she didn’t want to stress out, she just wanted to delight.

It got me thinking, “Isn’t that really how we should live or what?!!?”

Never in my life had I stressed. Never growing up, never in high school, never in college. I NEVER even owned a day planner, a calendar, I never wrote down one single assignment in a schedule yet I never turned in anything late. Never. No stress, never.

But then I got out of college; let the stress begin. Why don’t adults tell you about this when you are a kid? I blame them for all kinds of people who have dashed hopes about being a “grown-up.” If I had known what stress was I never would have graduated high school.

Just kidding.

But seriously.

Anywho, I will never forget the day I told my mom on the phone, as I was driving home from my first “big girl” job, “While I can’t be sure that what I am feeling is stress, I have never felt this before and therefore I think that’s what this is. This very mild, yet very sever anxiety attack every time I have to make a business phone call is what I am now surmising stress feels like.” And ever since then I have found myself, from time to time, feeling again the same said anxiety. Stress, if you will. So to read that little line, “Don’t stress, just delight” (or something like that) was a brilliant little reminder for me in this time of my life….and probably for you, in whatever stage of your life you are in. If this was a little math problem it would look something like this:

Life comes from the Lord

+

He has given us everything we need for life and Godliness (II Peter 1:3)

=

                                    Don't Stress. Just Delight.                                     

 

Yay Jesus. Once again.

~~~~

A few snapshots from my holiday week!

Who doesn't love swinging bridges in the woods?!!? Clearly I do.

Who doesn't love watching big brothers climb trees?!!? Clearly I do.

Who doesn't love shooting clay pigeons?!!? Clearly I do.
(Also note that I am listening to instructions....with ear plugs in.)

Who doesn't love chasing sunsets?!!? Clearly I do.
No joke, Wolfies. I really do.