Monthly Archives: December 2014

Reflections on a Christmas Morning

It's the wee hours of Christmas morning. The only other person awake is my mom, stuffing our enormous stockings to capacity, leaving the rest as a stack underneath. In our family, we DO stockings! Once again, I find myself struggling to wrap my heart and mind around the reality of Christmas. I don't want to walk away from another season with nothing more than warm feelings and a pile of loot. I want the truth of it to sink deep in my soul and change me. So I ask myself today, "what does Christmas mean for me?" This is my answer: Christmas means I have life. Not just eternal life but abundant life here, now, life with meaning and purpose. It means having a Savior, a rescuer, not just for eternity but for all those moments when I flounder on my own. I have a shepherd, a comforter, one who is compassionate on me in my weakness and need. I am no longer alone. There is one who sees me, knows me, wants me, holds me fast. He was willing to be limited, weak, helpless, affected, vulnerable, poor, tired, misunderstood, hated and killed for love of me. When it says in Isaiah that He will "open eyes that are blind, to free captives from prison, and to release from the dungeon those who sit in darkness" -  I was the blind, the captive, sitting in darkness. You were you. Christmas means light, freedom, a way out. All of this on his initiative, moving toward us out of love. When I look at this Jesus, I see the face of God. He is personal and good. He is zealous for me. For you. For us. The weary world rejoices.

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Death by Gingerbread House

  Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, all due to the intense and relentless desire of our son to make a gingerbread house. We made one once, in the U.S., before we knew that you could preserve your sanity and use a kit. I vowed never again to make one from scratch. I would have used a kit here, but IKEA ran out before we got one, and the other places are too expensive. So here I am, so exhausted, frustrated, and stressed that I resorted to taking a few old potatoes and hurling them at my shower wall as hard as possible. I need more potatoes. I thought that it might be hard to make a gingerbread house here because of the high humidity. That was the least of our issues. I thought it would help to use a box inside for reinforcement. Yeah, that wasn't much help. I could list out the problems, but let's say that in the end, we have a gingerbread house precariously held together with not just frosting but also tape, glue, staples, nails, and sewing pins. It is a house that any inspector would instantly condemn. I'm afraid to let the kids decorate it because I know the second someone touches it, it will collapse. So it will remain undecorated. In fact, when I get around to it, I'm pitching it. I'd like to pitch it against my shower wall too, but I still have to clean up the potatoes. And the nails might scratch the enamel. I informed our son that we are never ever going to attempt another gingerbread house from scratch. The crazed look on my face convinced him not to argue. I told him maybe we could just paint a box brown and decorate that. He said maybe we could just eat the decorations. Hey, even better! The biggest bummer is that I was at a Christmas luncheon on Thursday and part of the dessert was these really cute little figures made of sugar - trees and people. I asked everyone at our table to give me theirs so I have a virtual sugar forest and village. They will be homeless this Christmas. Related posts: Missing Christmas 

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Keeping Our Souls Well

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"It's alive!" This thought, like the ravings of a mad scientist, leapt to mind when I saw this yesterday: It doesn't look like much, but trust me - I had inadvertently done my best to kill this mint plant all through the summer and fall. Completely unintentional, I assure you, it's just that I am not a good keeper of plants. The fact that it isn't dead is nothing short of miraculous. I bought this plant last summer at a farmer's market in Minnesota. I dragged it with us to Colorado, then back to Orlando, where I put it on our front patio. In the Florida heat, it struggled to survive. I often forgot to water it. When I did, I might have drowned it a little. It wilted, and parts of it even died, but I didn't take time to prune it. It seemed to want to survive, though its leaves were never as large as they initially were. It grew a little crazy, but not strong. I finally wised up and looked online to see what mint plants actually need to survive. Turns out they need morning sun and other environmental factors I wasn't providing. In fact, I could have been writing a book on how to kill a mint plant in 10 easy steps. I was not treating it well. So I moved it to our lanai, where it drinks in morning sun and where I see it often enough to remember to water (but not drown) it. I had to cut it back to its roots essentially and hope for the best. And now, weeks later, it is sprouting. It's no coincidence that I was reading Soul Keeping by John Ortberg when I saw my plant. God felt I needed a visual. This mint plant is my soul. I can so easily be careless about the environment I put it in. I feed it what it doesn't need and neglect to give it what it does. I forget about it. I think maybe it will just grow and flourish on its own. My soul wants desperately to thrive. I've been thinking a lot, as I read this book, about what I must do to keep my soul well. I want to be a good keeper of my soul. There is pruning that needs to happen, a change of environment perhaps. Certainly greater diligence to its health and care, putting it in a place where I am aware of it more often. I made a list of what feeds my soul and what does not. I hope to shape my life more and more to fit that environment, so my soul can be fully alive. How is your soul today?

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Promises to My Children

Kids, you have a lot of life ahead of you. You have big dreams and hopes for how that all will go. There are so many things I want to promise you about that life. I wish I could promise you, sweet girl, that you will become a world-famous women's soccer player. Or that you, brilliant son, will someday live on that space station (though you know I want you to stay on this planet). I wish this world would always love you, no harm will ever come to you, you will have an easy path, life will be fair, and you will be happy and carefree. I can't promise any of that. Here's what I can promise you: I promise you will always be loved. I love you so much sometimes I can't stand it. It spills out all over you in hugs and kisses you don't necessarily want. Other times it's harder because our sin gets in the way, but I promise I will always make it my aim to love you well. And when I fail, which I will, remember that you are unconditionally loved by the One who made you. His is the one opinion that will never change. He's wild about you. Let that be your solid place, even more than me. I promise I will love your dad. He's a good man, your dad is. I'm blessed. But neither of us is perfect and marriage is hard work. I promise I will love him and fight for what we have. We will show you that it's all worth it to have someone who is with you for the long haul. We want that for you. I promise God will always be with you. If I could, I would always be with you (probably even when you'd rather I wasn't). I will always try, but there will be times that I cannot be there, or should not be there for your own growth. God has no such restrictions. He will always be there with all you need. I promise to get all up in your business. Hey, I'm your mom. So yes, I'll ask about who you hang out with and what you talk about. I'll put restrictions on what you can watch and play. When you're emailing and browsing online, I'll be looking over your shoulder. I'll stick my nose in your room when you aren't expecting me. I'll make you eat your vegetables and do your chores. Get used to it. It's because of #1. I promise to let you go your own way. I know that might seem contrary to #4. It's hard for me to write, but I know you need to be independent from us. I have ideas about who I'd like you to be, but those don't matter. What matters is that you be you. I know there will be many times when I need to just let you go, maybe even let you fail miserably. I will. Or at least…

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