Come to Me...

"Come to me with a teachable spirit, eager to be changed.  A close walk with Me is a life of continued newness." ~ Jesus Calling

May your year be one of hopes and dreams more than resolutions and plans.

May your year be full of grace rather than full of rules.

May you travel as one with a tour guide, completely trusting in the fact that He has gone before you.

And may you feel His presence in every day.

In every MOMent.

With every breath.

No more Happy New Year,  but

Joyful New Year to you!

What is giving all about today?

Gift #1 - Christmas

"I don't mind Christmas.  It's just all the shopping that makes me crazy!"

"Well, we didn't want to worry about celebrating during the crazy time with all the parties and concerts so we are planning on our Christmas party some time in January."

"I don't think we can give extra because we have all the gifts to buy this month."

These are the things I have heard from friends, neighbors, co-workers. 

And don't think our family is immune to the lack of Christmas spirit.  Oh, I thought we were when I heard this:


"I don't want any gifts this year," 

Oh, what a sweet sound to a proud mama's ears, but wait for it...wait for it...

"...no gifts, just money!"

Of course you do.

I know Christmas is about giving gifts to celebrate the most awesome gift of all, but why do we think it has to be the all encompassing part of Christmas.  Is there another way?

When I was a kid, I got one big gift that was actually usually from Santa (Why my parents let him get the credit for the good ones, I still wonder) and several smaller ones.

We had simple requests because we had less of a chance to compare with others.  Of course I might see the new purse my friend got, but there was no internet to see the hundreds, no thousands of purses I could be asking for.

 We were not lacking, but yet, we never I felt got too much. 

(Of course I didn't...I was a kid and probably still wanted more).

But today, it just feels all wrong.  Something is off with the heart of Christmas. 

When people are complaining of celebrating because of too much time spent on finding gifts, too much money spent on getting gifts, and too much time spent actually spent celebrating Christmas, something is lost.

I want to blame it on technology, but technology just helped me this evening find several facts about Woolly Mammoths for a report for my daughter so I can't shoot the messenger.

I want to blame it on the schedule we keep in order to keep up with sports, dance, church, serving.  But the truth is we all have the same amount of time.  It is just what we do with that time.

So, I need to blame it on myself.  What I have allowed giving to become in my heart.  I have allowed the fleeting happiness of a Wild West Sharp Shooter to replace eternal joy that my children might experience because they have sacrificed for another.

I have not given them enough credit to thoroughly approach the subject of not giving gifts to each other and instead use that money for others in need because really, those are the gifts that we can give to Jesus.  We have mentioned it before, but not really decided to have a paradigm shift in our family.

To give a family in Africa a flock of chicks for $20.00.  To give a child in the apartments your dollhouse.  To give a child his food for a year.

These are the catalogs we need to pour over:

the Compassion Catalog, Samaritan’s Purse Catalog, Partner’s International Catalog, World Vision Catalog

What will they say?

What will you?

My readers, will you pray as we search for what giving instead of getting means in our family?

It will be a tender lesson for us all. 

For the first time I casually brought it up, I heard,

"No presents, that is okay...Santa will just give us stuff." 

Clearly we have not gotten the message of  Biblical giving quite yet...

Stay tuned for the results of our family meeting.

And as I think of this,

I know gifts are not wrong.  God is the giver of perfect gifts.

I will start  counting my gifts of which #1 is our Christmas.

I look forward to naming to even more...

Crazy Little Thing Called Dinner

We recently went to an instrumental concert that played synthesized music incorporated with the Christmas Choruses that we love to hum, sing, and whisper quietly at night to sleeping babies.

This particular concert also had a video accompanying the music in order to (I guess) enhance the music.

Some of the videos were beautiful: candles lit on a dark night and one by one lighting up the room with the flickers of fire, snow covered trees with ice skaters gracefully moving while we swayed with them.

Some of the videos were a little more random: the sad drummer boy that never came back from the war, the psychedelic wisps of smoke that looked more like the lawn of a Woodstock concert. Groovy!

But there was one video that actually kept replaying throughout the concert.  It was of a medieval feast and it showed the men and women greedily eating the food all the while entertaining themselves with the artists of that time.  And I realized during that video, that really, my dinner is not much different.

We have the same cast of characters, just a little different attire:

Joker: Jumping into the feast with his flips and juggling act, I think of my child who loves to make us laugh, gets up during the meal in order to show one more trick he has learned that day. I thank God for his smile.

Dancer: Gracefully moving while her beauty is beheld, I think of my child who is growing more in ladylike beauty and gracefully guides little ones in her life. I thank God for her love.

Knight:  Quietly sitting back and yet will come to the dance if needed, I think of my child who sits back to speak his word and yet all the while encouraging the others with his laugh and encouragement. I thank God for his kindness.

Sword Swallower: Defying all sense of what is real and courageously goes on his own, I think of my child who lives in the light of pretend where kisses and Mickeys still exist in a little boy's heart. I thank God for his goodness.


And then I move on to me...what character do I play in this musical?

Sometimes I am the princess, on those days when I remember that I am the daughter of a king.
Sometimes I am the cook, feeding my little ones goodness.
Sometimes I am the gymnast, juggling carpools, homework, and my patience at times.


But sometimes, I do not want to be a character.  I don't want to enter the dance.  I don't want to eat the food.  I want to stay up in my high tower and be alone.  Waiting for the King.  My time to hear his whispers of how much He loves me.  And from that high tower, I will see a little baby being born. Crying in the night wrapped in a rough cloth and in the still night.  And if I listen hard enough, those cries of life will turn into cries of death for soon that baby will die for me.  The rough cloth being torn.  And the feast will be over.  The night will be still.

But then...

 the music plays and the light shines on for the Son of Man will rise and live again.

And I will join that dance, for he died and rose so I could be a part of that dance.
That feast.
This life.

What character are you in this feast of life today?

A Second Call from the Lord Jesus

Many people between the ages of thirty and sixty - no matter their place in the community and no matter their personal achievements - undergo what can truly be called a second journey.

In his book, The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning describes this second journey.

A person gets to this stage in life and looks at all he or she has done and asks, "Is it all worth it?"

A dear friend of ours realized this with a health scare that brought him face to face with the possibility of meeting his Creator sooner rather than later.  It does not have to always be a life threatening event.  It can be good or bad.  A mom turns into Grandma and celebrates this gift. A thirty-five year old teacher gets smashed in a car wreck.  A fifty year old man decides to choose a church position over the offered, coveted CEO position. After retirement, a sixty year old woman finds herself living with a man she loves yet never had to spend this much time with.

Brennan Manning sums this up, "These people are dragged away from chosen and cherished patterns to face strange crises.  This is their second journey."

He goes on to describe the wisdom that comes from a person expereiencning the second journey,
"It is a wisdom that gives some things up, lets some things die, and accepts human limitations."

And for Christians, this journey can often start with a second call from the Lord.  In the examples above, our friend found saving grace in the love of his Savior.  The fifty year old man was my father who gave up that CEO position in order to be the Church Chairman of the Board.  These second calls summoned both of these men to a deeper commitment of faith.  And I love this part of Manning's description:

      "The call asks,

Do you really accept the message that God is head over heels in love with you?"

That is what the second call is asking me now.  DO I really accept that message of love and grace?
Oh, I can say it and even tell people about it, but do I believe it? Do I embrace that love?
The confidence that the same God who raised Jesus can raise me?

Manning says that Faith means you want God and want to want nothing else.

And with a faith like that, every day will be new because God will show me in amazing ways his love for me and I in turn will desire to live out this crazy love for Him in order to bring Him the glory He intends for us to give Him!

I will have more joy filled MOMents as a mom because I will radically love my children.  I will let go of the little things (like the Mickey Mouse Lego set we lost) and focus on the big thing of God.

I will rest in these sweet times when my children are home and trust in the times when they are away from me.  Without fear.  Without despair.

I am starting to hear this call.  Oh, I plead with Him to allow me to hear and follow.  May I feel His love penetrate to every part of my soul so that with every breath, I know that God can scarcely be without me his love is so great!

Are you hearing the second call? 

When you were a child, did you see in color?

"Mama, when you were younger, did you see color like all of this?" my son asked as he waved his arm motioning towards the outside of the car towards the setting sun against the backdrop off the Lutheran Home.

"Do you mean, did I see color when I looked outside?" I asked, wondering where this question stemmed from in his sweet mind.

"Yes," he said simply. No more. No less.

And then it dawned on me.  There are photos of days long ago, years past, farmers who stood tall and men who dressed up for church.

Photos of great Grandmas and Grandpas on refrigerators.  He knows they are old and they are in black and white, and he has not seen many pictures of me when I was a child, so he is wondering, did I see color.

"Do you mean did I see color because some old photos are in black and white so you think they only saw in black and white?" I ask with a smile looking back at him now looking out the window of the car.

"Yes, because the black and white," he nods his head smiling because he is understood.

"Yes, I saw color..." and I go on to explain the best I could how photos were developed with only black and white at first.

"Because they had no ink?" he asks innocently, most likely thinking how often our printer is out of ink these days.

"Well, is was different back then," and I want to go on to explain the advances in photography, transportation, technology, and medicine, but all I can focus on is the question of color.

We might have those advances from generations past, but the fact is with each of those major breakthroughs came a price.

A price of less time to be outside in order to take photos, less freedom to just walk with a friend, less  words because of the chopping down of real communication, and more stress ebbing the life away from every day.

Did I see color?  My room was a bright yellow. Mac, our dog, was a brown, golden brown, white mix. Cissy, our cat, was grey and black.  Our first van was maroon with a yellow stripe.  My parents'  bedroom carpet was blue. The water I had swimming lessons in was blue from the high dive. The fire when we went camping was red and yellow. The pebbles at Pebble Beach were white and grey.

Yes, my child, I saw color.  But sadly, with the hurry of my life, I tend to not see it as much anymore.

I rush my kids in the car and not see the sunlight hitting their hair.  I gulp the smoothie down and not see the specks of God's creation in the mix of strawberries, bananas and spinach. I jog down the sidewalk without noticing the many shades of green found around me.

Oh Lord, may you help me to slow down and really see color today!  Your color.  Your gifts of life, grace, and love.

Compassion Blogger - Peru

Sweet smiles.

Hopeful hugs.

Dusty days.

Dark nights.

Tired legs.

Rough hands.

God's grace fills the place.

 Oh, how I wish I was there...


Check out more stories of amazing grace from some of the Compassion bloggers who went to Peru to share time and love with the children in Peru :


Click here for Grace in Peru

Five Minute Friday

A weekly challenge by Lisa-Jo Baker. We all write about 1 word for five minutes.

Today's word is:  STAY



GO

A Papa's hand.  A boy's sweet smile.
 
Looking into the eyes that he finds hope comfort, delight, and most importantly love.

The whisper of wisdom of a Grandfather's love.

"Stay young."

Stay young, my son.  Keep looking for frogs in the lake up north. 

Stay innocent, my son.  Keep believing in magic and dreams. 

Stay sweet, my son.  When you asked me today, "Has anyone told you that you are beautiful today?  You are," I knew once again that you took after your Papa. 

My Daddy who told me I was beautiful just as my Heavenly Father tells me in His love for me.

STOP


  To write your own whispers...Click here.