Wandering

 I’m not lost. I’m just wandering.

There is something to be said for living life without an anchor. By which I mean, living without anything to hold you down to one place, one job, one style of life, one set of friends.

It’s sometimes frightening to be so unleashed, of course. To find yourself flung into the GREAT UNKNOWN without any idea of where you are going to land. But the hard facts of life mean that no one, not even the most rooted and grounded and anchored person with a pension and a 401K actually knows what is going to happen next. It’s just the illusion of safety to think that what you have now you will still have tomorrow or even in 5 minutes.

Wandering is the ability to throw off those illusions and simply face the uncertainty head on. It’s a little bit like an adrenaline rush, but more than that it is a fantastic exercise in faith…a trust fall of epic proportions.

I suppose I ought to clarify that I’m not truly without any anchor. The hope I have in Christ is a rock-solid foundation that I can anchor into even while I’m wandering (Hebrews 6:19). It’s like true north on a compass. No matter where I wander, I’m not lost, and I never will be. So I don’t have to fear the uncertainty. I can embrace change and wildness and even a worldwide pandemic without losing myself or losing sight of what is important.

I know it isn’t truly feasible for some, and that others wander entirely unintentionally. However, if it is ever possible for you to do so, if ever you come across a chance where you think “if only I had time off” or “someday I’d really like to” and you feel that pull in your chest like your being drawn somewhere even though it doesn’t make sense, I say go. I mean, pray about it first. Don’t just jump off a bridge without looking. But go as often as you can. 

Learn new things. Meet new people. Experience new cultures.

Love God Always, first and last and forever.

Wander.

Kings, Countries, and Christmas

Kings, Countries, and Christmas

It’s coming around to that time of year where everyone turns to thoughts of gift giving and generosity. This isn’t simple coincidence. It is a direct link to the holiday that gives the season its name; a holiday that has in many ways been twisted and perverted by commercialism to gain as much revenue as possible. And yet beneath all the trappings, commercials, decorations, and treats there remains the idea of something strange and amazing happening. There clings to the days a sense of magic and wonder in what would otherwise be considered the bleakest of seasons, and it is this wonder and awe that inspires gifts freely given to family and strangers alike.

The wonder is that Emmanuel came into the world. That the spaceless and timeless God fit himself into a mortal body to live in this place of dirt and famine, wars and intrigue. Many people have quit social media sites because the burden of dealing with other people’s unfiltered opinions and emotions causes to much strain for a health life. And God, who is apart, who is holy, who is perfect, chose to immerse himself in that humankind. He didn’t do it for the amusing qualities of mankind. He did it to save us.

To anyone who has celebrated the advent before or attended Sunday school, this is not new information. In some cases, it may even be a bit tarnished and drab with unimaginative retelling. But that isn’t the point I’m going after here.

My point is that God came into the world to save men from the destruction they wrought with their own hands. Everything we have, from the next heartbeat to the homes we live in and our families are from God. We own nothing. It seems natural then to give away what we have at this time of year, as a sort of offering, and nod in the direction of the one who makes life possible.

And then… what?

Do we go back on December 26^th to protesting immigration, to wishing that the homeless wouldn’t set up their tents in our towns, to spouting caustic opinions about how right we are and how wrong others are?

Deuteronomy 10:18-19 “He [God] executes justice for the orphan and the widow and shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing. So show your love for the alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.”

Unless I’m much mistaken, this verse doesn’t apply to a particular time of year. This is a direction for how to treat people… all the time. But what if we allow people into our country, our city, our lives that don’t believe as we do? What if crime rates go up? What if we have to pay more taxes to support them? What if, what if. There’s no end to the possibilities. And none of them matter because what we have isn’t ours. This country, no matter who runs it or what the economy looks like, isn’t ours any more than Babylon belonged to Daniel or Nebuchadnezzar. Our jobs, our land, our food, our money, our healthcare: they aren’t ours. And until we acknowledge that, Christmas and all its wonder is going to remain inextricably linked to this one season and the rush of holiday shopping; that one day, shared with a man in a red suit; and fit into a neat little box so it can’t effect the rest of our lives and the rest of the world.

“Self-righteous religion is always marked by insensitivity to issues of social justice, while true faith is marked by profound concern for the poor and marginalized” (Keller, 2018, p 61).

Rather than worrying about what we could lose, I would love to see us separate ourselves from the individual mindset so popular in the West and start to think about what others could gain. What if we gave up some of our prejudice and worked with people on the other side who wanted to help people? What if we stopped letting the media or the politicians draw our lines for us? What if we refused to be separated from the work that God gave us?

What if Advent wasn’t just these few weeks in December, but a year-long recognition of the fact that Jesus Christ has in fact arrived and is working here still?

Keller, T. (2018) The Reason for God. New York, New York: Penguin Random House LLC.

Worth Dying For?

I was listening to a podcast the other day (It’s called Dan Carlin’s Hardcore History, and if you have any interest at all in human nature or war history, I would highly recommend it). At the beginning of the very first episode I listened to, he asked the question “What would you die for?” 

As this is a fairly typical question, echoed in other forms as ‘until you know what you would die for, you’re not really living’ and so on, it is something that I’ve thought about in since I was a teenager. This contemplation was also probably sparked around the time of the Columbine shootings. As a teenager, the things on my list were straightforward and idealistic. The first three items, for instance, would have been something like: Faith, Family and Freedom. It could’ve been one of those rustic country signs that are so popular for fans of Magnolia Farms. And the things on that list are pretty standard. They are also extremely vague.

As a sidenote, I rather romantically wanted to add Love to that list, but even as a teenager, I never was that romantic. I mean, what is the point of being in love if one of you is going to die right away? That loved and lost stuff is nonsense. Anyway, moving on…

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to recognize, at least to a point, that I couldn’t possibly know the truth of what I’d be willing to die for unless I was put in the position of actually dying for it. This has nothing to do with bravery or even, I think, resolve, as the brain has an amazingly selfish desire for self-preservation. Some circumstances might make it possible for me to give up my life, but I don’t know if throwing myself into a hail of bullets in order to protect someone, or something, would actually be possible. For example, I was in Guatemala when someone lit a string of firecrackers outside the women’s bathroom, where I was showering. I was crouched down on the tile floor before I even really registered what the noise was.

Currently, I suppose my list would be much like many people’s. It’s a little less vague, but not much more developed. I would die to protect members of my family, or rather than renouncing my faith, and I’m certain there are cases where I would die rather than submit to some form of evil ideology. There are other circumstances as well that are harder to define. I was willing to die when I went to work in Iraq. To be honest, something of the danger made that trip that much more exciting, and I don’t know exactly what made that choice so clear to me. In the normal course of the day, I’m not willing to die in order to do my job. But then again, it isn’t normally asked nor expected either.

So think about it for a moment. Wherever you are in life, whatever is most important to you at this time, what would you considering worth dying for?

After you’ve thought about it and made your list, here is the follow up question that he asked, which intrigued me even more. Having already thought about this second question before I wrote the section above may have changed my own answer to the first questions by proxy. It was just that powerful. His second question was this: What happens when the things on your list clash? In other words, what things on your list would you sacrifice to protect other things on your list?

For example, if you say you would die for freedom, what would you sacrifice in order to secure that freedom? What if it wasn’t just your life you were risking in your fight? What if your choice to fight put your family in danger, or made them exiles? Would you sacrifice your home and your family’s lives for that same freedom that you would risk your own life to protect?

At what point, do the items on your first list begin to outweigh one another, and at what point do you draw the line?

This made me think. As Americans we are obsessed with the idea of freedom. Everyone’s freedom looks different, which makes it hard to pin down, and that’s why I call it an idea rather than a fact. In America, we have freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom to act as we want, to travel where we want, to live where we want, freedom in person and in business, to the point that the idea of dying for freedom is sort of a national catchphrase. But what would I sacrifice to keep say my freedom to choose my own profession? If the alternative was a life in prison, or financial punishment, or consequences for my family, would I be willing to fight the idea that the government could tell me where and how I should work? Would I be willing to lose my life just so I can work where I want? I think not.

And that is where it becomes especially interesting. Because freedom, in the modern age, is unlikely to be lost all at once. Unless we were to be taken over by a neighboring country, say Canada suddenly decided to invade and enslave all Americans. In that case, all freedom would be at risk and fighting and dying would seem a reasonable alternative to simply watching the world be overturned. Also the amount of emotion and turmoil in such an invasion would fire up those sentiments of ‘live free or die’. But what if the world is overturned slowly? That’s harder to imagine, because it’s nearly impossible to visualize what the grinding away of any one aspect of freedom looks like and the course it will take. It’s harder still to make a particular stand and draw a certain line when you aren’t entirely sure if it is worth upsetting the status quo. To make it slightly easier, take for example, the idea that one day freedom of speech is taken away all by itself. People would be outraged, certainly, but is that one simple piece of freedom something I personally would be willing to die for all on its own? Are there more important things? And if so, what are they?

Living without the freedoms we have today would be unpleasant, and more so by comparison to our current state, but it would not be impossible. Of the freedoms that exist today, I believe that only the freedom of religion is one that I would fight for with all my heart. That is certainly something I would die for. One of the worst things I’ve heard about North Korea at this time is that parents who are secretly Christians never share their faith with their children for fear of either being reported by them, or of putting them in danger themselves. I don’t want to judge them in the least, but it makes me extremely sad, because I know that those children are in far greater danger if they don’t know Christ. Fear the one who, as they say, who can destroy the soul.

Of course, all of this is only speculation. And there is a difference between fighting and dying for a cause, and living and suffering for that same cause. Death is easy. Suffering, however, gives ample opportunity for one to change their mind.

All this in the podcast was in the context of what he called the “Celtic Holocaust”, or the destruction of the Gauls by Julius Ceasar. The Gauls, amid a whole mess of historic points that you’ll have to listen to the podcast to learn about, decided that fighting Rome was better than living under Roman rule. And Rome absolutely annihilated them, destroying not only the men who stood against the Romans, but starving out all the people and utterly destroying their way of life.

So I ask you again, what is worth dying for? And what is worth losing everything for?

Reflections

The year is nearly over.

I sit beside my fireplace with a pot of coffee brewing. The snow gleams outside in the sharp winter air.

This is not Arizona.

The whole landscape of my life has changed, and not just externally.

Last January, about this time, started thinking about going to work in a field hospital in a war zone. That decision led to so many other new and unexpected things that it’s hard to look back and understand exactly what has happened in these twelve months.

More than anything, I think, this year has made me grateful. Grateful for good friends, supportive family and the opportunities with which I have been blessed. Also, for perhaps the very first time in my life, being single has come to feel like that gift that married people always talk about in church. I’ve nothing against married people at church, but they do seem to talk a lot about this subject without much experience…anyway.

Being unattached even feels a little bit selfish at times. For those of you who are single and don’t feel this way, trust me, I understand. I’ve spent most of my adult life without being in a romantic relationship, knowing that I have so much to offer, but with nothing promising on the horizon. I know all about long days of Netflix alone and random wandering through coffee shops in the hopes that you might turn someone’s head—although its unlikely because everyone now has their head buried in laptop and headphones or cellphone. At times, the thought of spending the rest of my life without that “special someone” to remember my birthday, etc. felt like the worst prison sentence in the world. And that whole “it’s a gift from God” idea made me want to hit some people in the face a few times. (I never did)

This year changed all of that for a variety of reasons. Perhaps, some of it comes from simple maturity. Being on the other side of thirty I like to think I’ve gained a little bit of emotional fortitude and stability that was simply unattainable at twenty or twenty-five.

Apart from that, I was able to pick up and leave my job when I heard God call me to go to Iraq. And that being called, so clearly and resolutely, shoved everything else into second place. I was ready to die if that was what was required. I don’t say this to sound somehow holy or righteous, but just to explain that I had a cause, a reason to exist that was entirely outside of myself. Nothing can match that. In my mind, no human being on the planet could be worth missing out on that feeling. All you need is love, the song says. But I think all you really need is to be love. That is what makes life worth living.

Secondly, while I was in Iraq, I saw the toll being a mother takes on a woman. It’s an entire life of selflessness, being held at the mercy, sometimes unwillingly, of a tiny, fretful, fearful human being who doesn’t understand anything except its own needs. Of course I still love babies, and if the opportunity arose, I might gather up the courage to have one myself. But right now, I very much enjoy the fact that I can sleep in on my days off, only have to worry about washing my own clothes, and can choose to eat ice cream and chips for dinner if I like without worrying about setting a bad example. For you mothers, whether your babies are grown or still waking up in the middle of the night, you are amazing. Maybe you have found your calling in raising children, and if you have, then you should understand the amazing feeling of being able to do what you love.

For you single women (and men if you happen to read this), I don’t suggest that you try to pull on your big girl (or boy) boots and just deal like a happy human when you feel alone and forgotten. It’s almost impossible to do. But I do suggest that you first put your focus on God, and second, find something that you love to do. Not because it brings you close to possible mates (see, I have been there—I know how you think), but because you love doing it, because it gives your life meaning and glorifies God. That looks different for everyone. Maybe you clean houses for the elderly or cook meals for the sick or take a frazzled mother of three out for coffee. Whatever it is, find it and run with it until God gives you something else. And He will, because He is good. His plan is perfect, and He loves you.

All of these things, and so many others, made me realize that I like not having roots. I like being able to go where I’m called. It would take a very, very patient and persistent man to keep up with me. (Not to mention put up with all of my weird) I don’t know if such a man exists. I don’t know if he should. All I know is that I am glad to be who I am and where I am.

Next year is nearly here.

I wait eagerly to see what it brings.

~~~

Isaiah 43:4

Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you

Stories and Storytellers

In all stories, we are told by our high school and college writing professors, there must be a core element of truth. You can only expect the reader to suspend reality for so long before they lose interest if the story becomes unreliable. This means that although you can have unlikely devices and twisted plot lines and magic and zombies, the characters who use such devices, traverse the plot lines and defeat magic-zombies must always act in a way that is realistic. In other words, in a way that we as people who have been studying the way other people react all of our lives will find believable. So a man who has never in his life forgiven anyone for a slight cannot suddenly forgive some young woman just because it helps a romance along. There must be a catalyst, a force of change, something that is believable because it holds to reality.

To switch tracks a bit, let’s assume you are a person living during the height of the Roman Empire. In this time period, it was not unreasonable to assume that a god or goddess might step down to earth and dally with humans. This is primarily because said gods and goddesses had extremely human traits, quarrels and jealousies. They were, in fact, little more than immortal humans. And they were born of stories created by human minds, following the very important laws of storytelling to make them believable and relatable.

However, if you are talking about God, and not gods—if you were Jewish (which you most likely were if you were a monotheist in those days) the assumption that God would come down and live among men was another proposition entirely. We are talking about God here—the one who laid the stars in place and spread out the oceans, who stores thunder and lightning and fights in pillars of fire. He held all of the supposed power of the Olympians combined and even more.

King Solomon the wisest man who ever lived did not believe that it was possible. He said, “But will God indeed live on earth with man? Even heaven, the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this temple I have built.” (2 Chron. 6:18)

So when we tell the story of God coming down to earth we must see that it is not a story that a human mind, who understood the vast power of God, could imagine telling. It doesn’t hold to reality. It is not expected. It isn’t simply a plot twist, it is a twist of the very fabric of the world—this thought that God could consent to be a companion of men, to put on flesh and blood and time itself—the God who created TIME, submitting himself in so many ways to his own creation. It is fantastic and unearthly.

This is not a story that anyone who believed in the one, true God would dare to create on his own. It’s too impossible.

Truth became infinitely stranger than fiction on the day Jesus was born.

And yet, it isn’t strange at all if you consider that God loves humans. Because love is a catalyst, a game-changer. Love explains deeds that would otherwise appear irrational (and perhaps sometimes they still are). God proved his love by sending his son, and up until that point it was not something that man could comprehend—God’s love. Now it is. He put it into context for us. He told a story that we with our limited human understanding could never create on our own, but one that we could believe.

“…One will come from you to be rule over Israel for Me,

His origin is from antiquity, from eternity.” (Micah 5:2)

Rails

Beliefs are the rails upon which our lives run.
We almost always act according to what we really believe.
It doesn't matter much what we say we believe or what we want others to think we believe...
That is why behavior is such a good indicator of a person's beliefs.
 - J.P. Moreland

   This made me stop and ask myself: what do I really believe? I know what I want to believe or what I say I believe, but if I look at my actions, what do they say I believe? The answer makes me want to flinch, because if I'm honest with myself, it's more than a little painful.

    If I truly believe a loving God is in complete control, not only of the universe but of my life individually, and if I completely trust him to take care of me and to work for the best in line with his perfect will, then I will be secure in where I am and what I am doing. I will not panic at unexpected circumstances, because I will know that while they were unexpected to me, God was not surprised, and his plan is still working as it should. I will not complain, because I would realize that the best growth comes through hard times and difficult situations, and, of course, that complaining never helped anything anyway. I will not cry out at the unfairness of life or lose myself in self-pity, because I won't be focusing on myself, I'll be looking to God. If I truly believe...

   But I do panic, I do complain, I do spend far too many nights crying because I'm alone, and life just isn't fair---and---and---

   So what do I believe? According to my actions, I believe that God cares about big things and great works, like countries and salvation, but not my every day, individual life. That somehow, in the midst of everything, I was forgotten, because I'm not important enough to merit the kind of attention that say, a missionary or civil rights leader, anyone with a more important calling than mine, would get. That because I'm not where I wanted to be, God must not care.

   And that's wrong. I know it's wrong. If God didn't care about normal, individual people, then none of my faith would make sense at all. It is my fault that my expectations were not where God wanted them to be. My fault and not God's that I was not prepared for my life to end up where it is. My fault that I don't look to him when I need help rather than looking down at the mire and bewailing my unlucky state. But how can I change beliefs that I didn't even know I had? I already know the truth. That isn't the issue. But how do I take what I know is true and make it what my heart (or my kidney, if you want to be Biblically accurate) believes?

   If beliefs are rails, then to change my beliefs, I'm going to have to do some heavy lifting. I'm going to need rails and ties, reason and time and a lot of prayer, and every time I start rolling down the tracks, I'm going to have to consciously move the switch, to say "I believe, help my unbelief!", to remind myself about what I know, until what I know is what I believe, and what I believe is what I do.

1. J.P. Moreland, "Living Smart," in Passionate Conviction: Contemporary Discourses on Christian Apologetics, ed. Paul Copan et al. (Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 2007), 25.

Faith Is...

Faith is a word that is overused and, much like love, has lost its potency in the repetition. For many people, I believe it has become a vague, amorphous word used to describe anything from a general belief that things will turn out as they are fated to turn out to a belief in a random higher power to the conviction that the Christian God exists and works in our lives.

Those of us who are Christians are, I think, in danger of accepting this word, faith, in its watered-down version even when we read it in God's word. For instance, Hebrews 11, the famous Hall of Faith chapter begins, "Now faith is being sure of things hope for, the conviction of things not seen." This seems hopeful and happy and secure, but can you see it's power?

                Now faith is [being sure] of things hoped for...

[the assurance]

[the confidence]

[the substance]

[the basis]

[the substructure]

[the essence]

[the reality]

Hebrews 11:1

Faith is the most solid possible conviction that what we have placed our hope in is the truth and nothing less. 

Our faith is not simply a vague feeling or idea that what we believe is true. It is, in fact, the very evidence that unseen things do exist, that what we hope for is reality.

Faith is not something we come across on our own. It does not spring from rational arguments and scientific proofs. Although both can be useful in supporting faith they cannot cause it. We can have faith only because the Holy Spirit has graced us with the knowledge that God is real and merciful. And for this reason, our faith is not ungrounded, or irrational, a simple delusion that what we might wish to happen will be. Rather, by its very existence, our true faith is the proof that God is real and wishes us to know him.

It is not, by far, the only proof that God exists. But it is by far the most personal and convincing.

    "And without faith is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him."

Hebrews 11:6

This verse implies that two things must be present in true faith: the belief that God exists, not just any god, but our God as shown in the scripture, and the belief that he will reward us for seeking him. If either of these two beliefs is missing, then what we have no reason to hope for what we hope for (i.e. eternal life, salvation, mercy). If God does not exist, then he cannot save us. If he does not reward us for seeking him, then there is no point to trying because judgement will be meted out as he pleases without regard for our relationship with him.

There was another thing in this verse that struck me strongly, though I already knew it. Our drawing near pleases God. He isn't simply standing there, impersonally handing out trophies like a judge at a track meet. He is pleased to see us. Our desire for him brings him joy. He wants us to be close to him. And the way we get close to God is by that very faith with which he has blessed us!

Faith is not vague, it is not superstition, it is not irrational. Faith is the most valuable proof we have of God's love, and it should not be watered-down lest we forget just how powerful a tool we have by the grace of God. Soli Deo Gloria.

"And what more shall I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets---who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight." - Hebrews 11:32-34

Hijacked

It has taken me a while to realize that the way I react to things happening in my life is not necessarily the way that I want to act. Given a calm environment, I know that my reason works competently enough that I could make a reasonable decision. However, add a little stress, a little hunger, a little sleep-loss and/or a whole blender-full of hormones and, suddenly, my reason becomes overwhelmed. Bad decisions aren't necessarily seen as good; they just aren't seen as decisions at all. In fact, I react as if I had no choice but to react as I do. And that is completely untrue. I don't have to react in any way, because I am a rational (mostly) human being who has the capability of making good decisions even if I am stressed or hungry or tired. So why don't I?

To put it simply, my brain has been hijacked...by my past decisions. The brain is very impressionable, and it assumes once you've done something several times that that is how you would always like to do it. It lays down the imprint, creates a map and starts traveling the same road until the ruts become trenches, then canyons. When this comes to things like riding a bike, tying your shoes or being able to drive to work without having to consciously think about what you're doing, this ability to maintain nueropathways is quite useful. When it comes to reacting badly to a slow driver, or stressing over work, or really any number of situations where I let my emotions take over...it's not so good.

The good news is that my mind (being a separate entity that controls the actual physical brain in a way that still mystifies scientists) is capable of retraining my brain so that the decisions that I make impulsively are good rather than...not so good. In order to do this, however, I have to be able to stop, realize that my brain is getting ready to plummet down that canyon road, and pull it over to another path before that happens. Sometimes, this feels very much like wrestling the wheel away from hijackers (emotional hijackers, who have some really good arguments and some really poor impulse control), and I think how much easier it would be just to let things run toward gravity. Easier, yes. Better, no.

I don't think it's a coincidence that Galatians ends the list of the fruit of the spirit with self-control. After all, if I am constantly working at being loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, gentle and faithful, then I will have self-control. I will forge new paths to become roads that will turn into highways themselves. And I will be much more difficult to hijack.

Why I Don't Believe in Santa Claus

I don't like Santa. I love Christmas. My dislike for Santa Claus has nothing to do with how I feel about the holiday. But I'm frustrated by what I see in every store, in almost every facebook post, and shining bright in Christmas lights. The magic of Christmas is not a jolly man in a red suit coming to reward good behavior and punish bad. It isn't even the more realistic story of a good man who wanted, either in reality or simply in legend, to help three poor girls out with their dowry. I very much doubt that St. Nicholas, if he were really as righteous and pious as the stories suggest, would have even wanted so a--well, let's face it---ludicrous character named after him, and I am certain he would not have wanted said character to take over the holiday meant to celebrate the birth of Christ.

Because the true "magic" of Christmas is simply this: that God became human to save a people who wasn't even that interested in him.

Wait...

Let that sink in.


I know you probably know it already, but really stop and think about it. The God of the universe, the one who created galaxies and knows the stars by name and is eternal, timeless, ageless, became human. He stepped, intentionally and with perfect design, into a single, fragile body on a single broken world, to be helpless, and hungry, to know pain and loneliness and suffering.

This broken world had no hope. None at all. The world was dark, and there was no light in it. Until God came to walk with us. Imagine being in the dark and the cold. Imagine never knowing light. Then imagine the amazement of seeing for the first time, of light coming through the dark and showing you colors, textures, brilliance and radiance. Hope. Love. Peace.

That fact, in itself, is so amazing that I can hardly hold it in my head long enough to really think about it.

This is the Christmas story. It is the very essence and meaning of Christmas. And anything else, no matter how cheerful, or harmless, or well-meant, looks cheap and tarnished in comparison.

But do the people across the street have a manger scene in their yard? No. They have a blow-up Santa. Why? Santa Claus can't save them. St. Nicholas couldn't have even if he'd tried. And the Santa today very little resembles the saint for whom he was named in any case.

My problem with Santa Claus is that he isn't my savior, he's not real, and he has no right to be at the center of attention. My problem with Santa Claus is that people use him as an excuse to lie to their children because it's "traditional" and "magical" and because they don't want their kids to miss out. But I have to ask, what would they be missing out on? Christ's salvation still stands, so what do they have to lose? Except, maybe their faith in you, when they realize you've lied to them.

So, no, I don't believe in Santa Claus, nor do I think we should encourage children in any tradition that, at its core, has deception as a necessity. Stockings are fine. I think they're a cute way to do little gifts. But don't lie about who fills them.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God...in him was life, and that life was the light of men. The lights shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1

Impossible Grace

What grace is this that saves me, unworthy, from the storm?
What love is this that finds me, lost and rebellious, in the deepest darkness?
What hope that shows me a future beyond all imagining and desperate longing?
Who is this that offers such refreshment to my soul, such rest to my weary spirit?

It is my Lord, and him alone. Nothing else will suffice once truth has been tasted, for all the world goes to ashes around me when I look to him. Everything is shaken, but that one, who holds me and covers me with the corner of his great cloak. To him I must cling or be lost, I think. And failing again, I feel that his arms are holding me, safe though I try to wander, though my eyes are caught by pretty things, my heart by things not so pretty, my mind by ideas that run rampant instead of held captive to truth.

This is grace, impossible
This is love, unstoppable
This is hope, undying
My Lord, my God, my Love is faithful beyond eternity

"Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you..." "For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling..." "Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty, for all that is in the heavens and in the earth is your. Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as head above all." "He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." "But we are not those who shrink back and are destroyed, but those who have faith and preserve their souls." "...for our God is a consuming fire." "...who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time." "And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price."

Refuge

Have you ever heard that saying "He doesn't have enough sense to come in out of the rain?" As a rule, this is not a compliment. Usually, it's used to describe a person we find to be exceptionally dense or lacking in the most basic of common sense. Then I wondered, how often am I like that?

The Psalms are full of references to taking refuge in the Lord. 

Psalm 37:39-40 

"The salvation of the righteous is from the Lord; he is their stronghold in the time of trouble. The Lord helps them and delivers them; he delivers them from the wicked and saves them, because they take refuge in him."

Psalm 9:9

The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.

Psalm 18:30

This God--his way is perfect; the word of the Lord proves true; he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.

And there are many references in the other books of the Bible speaking to the Lord being a refuge, stronghold, rock and shelter. But what good is such a shelter to me if I choose to stand outside in the rain and cry? What use is the best fortress if I won't go inside and seek protection from the one who owns it?

So often, I think, I see the storm building, and rather than running inside and watching through fire-lit windows, I choose to stand there and sulk about the rain and cold. Oh, praise the Lord, who saves even the souls of those who don't have enough sense to walk through open doors! Praise the Lord, who comes out to meet me in the storm and carries me into the light!

Grace Notes

Let my life be a melody to my king
Full of the harmony of love and peace
Graced with notes of joy

Sometimes, as today, I wonder how I can spend so much of my life effectively blind to what God has done. He is not simply the creator of the universe, masters of stars and nebulae and black holes that spin the galaxies into shape. He braids he laws of physics around his fingers, and without him, nothing would hold together. Surely that is splendid, but it does not touch my heart.

Mystic Mountain - NASA

The earth itself is beautiful with a splendor that sometimes takes my breath away, when clouds edged silver by sunlight wrap the verdant green of the mountains against the bluest of skies, when the wildflowers sway in the field like summer's confetti, or the ocean rolls, full of light and dark and salt. It is beautiful and this does, in its way, touch my heart, but nature cannot save me, cannot fill me.

Photo by Michael Gabler

Then there are people, wonderful, beautiful people, who touch my life for good or ill, who take my heart and fill my hours. But they are flawed, as selfish as I am, as incapable of understanding and as deaf of heart at times. And though I love them, they cannot save me.

The Arena in Arles - Van Gogh

But, my God, not only has he saved me, but he has given me back my ability to enjoy everything else he has done. Because I am saved, I can love those who hurt me. Because I am filled with his joy and his strength and his peace, I cannot look at the sky and be struck breathless with awe at the beauty of what my God has created. Because I am loved, I can examine the laws that hold this universe together and see the glory of my Father. Everything I see, I see because he has put it there.

But I forget. Sometimes, I see the stars and do not remember what holds them in their places, I look on the mountains as only a feature of the land, and I see people as untrustworthy and not worth my time. This should not be possible, and yet, I have proved every day that it is so. So I pray today that my eyes will be opened and never closed to what my God has done, to his tremendous love and his faithfulness more constant that the sun. I pray that I will sing out the love of my God with every action, that, though there be grace notes, there will be no rests in my song.

Three Snails and the Moon

As a preface, I'd like to say that I came up with this idea more for a children's book than anything else, and I have great ideas in my head about someday illustrating it...if ever I find the time. Please do enjoy, and as always, if you have any comments, let me know.



Three Snails and the Moon

    Once there was a lush garden, overflowing with every kind of fruit and vegetable. There were grapevines over the walls, stands of lemon and orange trees, bright banks of rosemary and basil and rows of apple and cherry trees. Strawberry bushes crowded in the shade next to tomato vines and tall stalks of golden corn.
    This garden was made specially for snails, who spent their days sleeping and their nights eating all the good food that the garden provided them through the careful care of the gardener.
    But everything was not well in the garden. The snails began to fight amongst themselves, arguing as to which one of them was the best. Finally, a very wise, old snail with a large coiled shell of orange and black came forward.
    “Let us end this dispute,” he said, slowly, which is how all snails speak. “For so much fighting is not good for us.”
    The other snails agreed with this idea.
    “But how will we decide who is best?” asked one snail, his shell a coil of chocolate brown and pale pink.
    “We will set a task that only the highest among us can complete,” said the wise old snail. “That will truly prove who is best.”
    And they all thought this was good.
    “What task will it be then?” asked one, his shell as black as coal as he glared at the others with his long eyestalks.
    “The moon,” said the wise, old snail. “Whichever snail can reach the moon will be the best.”
    “The moon!” said the coal-black snail. “Ha! That will be easy. I’ll show you that I am the best.” And so saying he started climbing the nearest cornstalk. Up and up and up went the courageous gastropod until he had reached the very top of the cornstalk.
    But still the moon was above him, vast and silver in the night sky.
    “Ha!” said another. “Surely I can get higher than that.” So he climbed the grapevines strewn over the wall. Up and up and up to the very tip top.
    But still the moon was above him, shining bright amid the stars.
    “You fools,” said the third, and his shell was green and red and black. “I will show you how to reach the moon.” So he climbed the oldest, tallest apple tree in the garden. Up and up and up. It was so tall that he had to stop and rest halfway through, then he climbed again. Up and up, and up and up. Finally, he clung to the very highest leaf of the apple tree.
    But still the moon was above him.
    On returning to the ground, the three snails began to argue again. The one who had climbed the apple tree claimed that he was better than the others because he had made it the highest.
    Finally, the wise, old snail intervened again. “Who reached the moon?” he asked.
    The three snails turned their eyestalks away.
    “I made it to the top of the cornstalk, but the moon was still too high to reach,” said the first.
    “I made it to the top of the wall, but the moon was still too high to reach,” said the second.
    “I made it to the top of the apple tree,” said the third. “Higher than these two could go.”
    “And did you reach the moon?” asked the wise, old snail.
    “It was still too high to reach,” said the third snail. “But I made it the highest.”
    “And was the contest to see who could make it the highest?” asked the wise, old snail.
    “Well, no,” said the third, shrinking a bit.
    “What was the task?” asked the wise, old snail, as if he had forgotten.
    “To reach the moon,” the other admitted grudgingly.
    “And have you done it?”
    “No,” said the third.
    “Then you have all failed equally,” said the wise, old snail. “Go and live in peace with each other.” And the wise, old snail pulled back into his shell as the morning sun rose over the garden. And he slept.

                                  ...and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags 
                                                                                              Isaiah 64:6

Soul-honey

Proverbs 24:13-14

My son, eat honey, for it is good, 

and the drippings of the honeycomb 

are sweet to your taste.

Know that wisdom is such to your soul; 

if you find it, there will be a future, 

and your hope will not be cut off.

This passage caught my attention today. Partly because I think "soul-honey" is an awesome word combination. I also did a little research. It turns out that honey isn't just a tasty treat. When applied to wounds as a balm, honey acts as a slow-release form of hydrogen peroxide, preventing infection--without the burn of pure hydrogen peroxide. It also has antioxidant and anti-inflammatory effects. Of course, none of this was known when this verse was written. I love finding out how the Bible proves it can be trusted in even the smallest ways.

It isn't a great leap to carry the metaphor to wisdom and the soul. Wisdom is antibacterial in that keeps organisms that start out small like greed, lust and anger from taking root and growing into great infections. It is also antioxidant in that it prevents slow, unnoticed decay of plain, seemingly harmless laxness that can ultimately lead to cancerous growths. Finally, wisdom is anti-inflammatory in its effects. "Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense." Prov. 19:11

Having decided that wisdom is definitely worth finding: where to find it? We don't exactly have wisdom-combs (wisdom-hives?) hanging from every tree--or actually any that I know of, but Job 28 has a great poetic description of trying to find wisdom, and I would highly recommend reading the whole thing. These, however, are the highlights. Verses 12-15 state, "But where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding? Man does not know its worth, and it is not found in the land of the living. The deep says, 'It is not with me,' and the sea says, 'It is not with me.' It cannot be bought for gold, and silver cannot be weighed as its price." It seems someone who is genuinely seeking this miracle cure for the soul might at this point start getting worried. Fortunately, Job doesn't leave us hanging for long. Verse 23 says, "God understands the way to it, and he knows its place." And the chapter ends with, "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding."

Proverbs also has a lot to say about wisdom, often using a female personification to show what wisdom is and what it decidedly is not. Getting wisdom isn't always easy. Just as getting honey from a beehive isn't easy. It takes preparation, dedicated study and the right tools, but it is definitely worth the effects.

Beehive

Photo courtesy of Vards Uzvards

Living, the Dream

I am living in a dream

Only glimpses of the true life come through

And I question why what I see doesn't make sense

As I lay with my eyes closed

And my spirit caged inside this shell

Perception is distorted by the viewpoint

The fractured pieces are poor imitations

Mirror-images of what will be

Spiraling through a sleeping mind

But beyond there is the one

The truth that has saved

To see him

I must open my eyes

Wake from this dream

Fly from this cage

And

I am not afraid

Because the truth that has leaked through

Into my sleeping mind

Is far greater than this dream that I am living

To the Young Women in My Life

To the young women in my life...

1. What do you want to be remembered for? I don't mean after your death, but five or ten or fifteen years from now, when you've moved on to a new city and you're out on your own, when you've found new friends to add to the old ones, how do you want them to think about you?

2. How do you see yourself? I don't mean physically, but how do you see your own attitude. Would you want to be friends with someone exactly like yourself? If there's something you don't like, you have the power to change it. Happiness is a choice.

3. Take a deep breath. Never, ever panic.

4. What do you fight for? What do you fight about? There are some things, most things in fact, that aren't worth the trouble. Family, marriage and friends are not among them. Never fight for yourself; fight for those you love.

5. Be strong enough to do it yourself, but if someone offers, let them help you.

6. Offer to help others.

7. Fall in love with God before you even think about "liking" someone else. I don't care how cute he is...if he's not in love with God, you'll regret it. By the way, cute only lasts six months, at most.

8. Boys are not stupid. They are different. Very, very different. Talk to them like you would talk to someone who has just learned English as a second language. Be careful. Be kind. Be clear. Don't expect mind-reading.

9. Forgive. Even if they never admit they are wrong, forgive them. Don't assume they meant to hurt you. If you have a problem, talk to them personally, not about them to others. Never gossip.

10. You don't have to have a career. You don't have to get married. You don't have to have children. But you do have to be useful, helpful, compassionate. Make a difference wherever you are.

11. Learn to cook. It'll save you so much money. And baking is fun.

12. Pray. All the time.

13. Dress well. Let's be honest, you know when you're wearing something too short, low-cut or tight. Don't. You're beautiful, and you don't need to degrade yourself to get attention.

14. I love you all, and I always will.

Quasar

When I was in high school, a band called the Smalltown Poets sang a song with these lyrics: There must be something else that all of this revolves around / I appear so small and barely make a sound / Still mysterious these frequencies they draw you out / Looking for some light, see what I'm all about / The rest of them are stars / I'm a quasar.

This caught my attention, as it may have yours, because quasar isn't a word you hear in everyday conversation. To be as brief as possible, quasars are QUASi-stellAR radio sources. They surround black holes at the center of certain galaxies and emit massive amounts of light along with radio waves. They are the some of the most luminous objects in the known universe.

Quasar 3C 273

Now, back to the song.

Obviously, as Christians, our light should be drawing people to study us and ask what makes us shine so brightly. We should be quasars.

But that's easier said than done. Philippians 2:14-15 gives us some good guidelines for shining. "Do everything without grumbling and arguing, so that you may be blameless and pure, children of God who are faultless in a crooked and perverted generation, among whom you shine like stars in the world." 

 This is a verse I was often (read very, very often) reminded of as a teenager. As sometimes happens, this repetition has led me to sort of ignore this verse for the most part. I definitely haven't given it as much thought as I should have in recent years. But now that I am thinking about it, wouldn't it be spectacular to be around someone who never complained or grumbled about anything? I'm not talking about false smiles and such, but what about someone who actually had that sort of attitude? Wouldn't that be awesome? Wouldn't that make you wonder what that person had going on that made them so capable of serenity? It would make me wonder. And I'm supposed to be a quasar.

Another thing of note about quasars is that they don't draw energy from within themselves. Unlike like stars, they aren't burning fuel that is packed inside them. Instead, as far as people can tell at this time, quasars emit light and radio waves as a result of gases swirling around and being inexorably drawn into the black hole. Gravity and massive amounts friction come into play as well as event horizons and other astronomical physics things. If you understand all the maths involved, I applaud you. As far as this illustration goes, however, it's only important to understand that something else powers the quasars. They aren't just out there burning brilliantly by themselves. In fact, if the black hole gives out, the quasar dissipates. So if we want to burn bright like quasars, we have to be close, event horizon close to the source of our power. The closer we get, the more light we will shine. And, like stars drawn to black holes and astronomers drawn to quasars, soon we will start pulling other people closer to our God.

Streak-Free Shine

Being invisible has never appealed to me. I'm not really the sort of person to sit in the background, not matter what's going on. After all, if I'm going to be somewhere, I want people to know I'm there. Otherwise, what's the point of being there, right? To be honest, I don't usually find this a particularly troubling trait in myself. It allows me to get things done that need doing and move on to the next task, whether that be socializing (yes, that counts as a task for me), cleaning a bed or giving blood to a severely hypotensive patient. But I've begun to wonder if maybe, sometimes, it isn't a good idea to be too visible. I don't mean that I want to disappear into the background, because I really don't think being invisible is the point, but I do wonder if there isn't someway that I can be less me. I'm not being self-deprecating. I quite like being myself. However, I know someone who is a great deal better than I am (like saying VY Canis Majoris is a great deal bigger than the earth, if you're looking for a scale reference), and who deserves a lot more attention than I do.

For that reason, I wish I could be see-through, like a window, so that while I'm rushing about being visible and all, people would be able to see who it is that is giving me the strength to do what I do. And trust me. I definitely need the strength. I can't count on one hand the number of times I almost broke down yesterday alone. I am not by nature a patient person, so if you ever see me being patient, I hope you can realize that you're not actually seeing me at all. I'm being see-through.

There is, of course, a catch. Funny thing about windows: when they're dark on the inside, they only reflects what's outside. So if I tell people that I'm a Christian, that I believe in serving a Living God, then if I'm impatient or bitter, if I lie or cheat or curse, I'm painting the inside of my window black, covering up what I'm supposed to be showing, giving a false idea of who God is and what he wants. If I'm not revealing God, then I'm reflecting the world. And for people who have no idea what God's love truly is that must be terribly confusing.

Love is a great window cleaner (better than vinegar and newspaper). It strips away all that black paint and reveals what's truly behind the glass. I find it harder to use than I should. Fortunately, I'm not alone in this effort to create a streak-free shine. God is the one who started the process, and I know he's not going to stop until it's finished.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

 Philippians 1:6

Bus Stop

Sitting at a bus stop on green plastic bench with countless globs of used gum stuck beneath the edge, the wind blows cold and gritty down the street, not at all hindered by the plexiglass shelter sporting badly spelled insults and out of date advertisements...if you are lucky enough to be at a stop that has a shelter at all. Waiting for a bus that may or may not get there on time. It isn't what I would consider a comfortable, or even a safe, place to be. Fortunately, stays at bus stops are inherently transient. They are waypoints, not end points of journeys.

This world is much the same. It is a waypoint, transient and not terribly comfortable. In fact, sometimes, it can be downright painful, sitting in the cold and waiting for a bus that you thought was supposed to be coming. It isn't where you want to be. It isn't home. And if that were all there was in this life, I would be hopeless to the point of despair. 

The greatest thing about this world is that it isn't all there is. We wait at bus stops because we have somewhere else to go. Somewhere infinitely more pleasant and warmer. Somewhere we are meant to be. It may take a while to get there. And while you are here, you will almost definitely end up on a route you hadn't planned on taking either because you read the little colored lines wrong or caught the wrong numbered bus or simply because whether you wanted to go there or not that was where you were meant to be. Certainly, it sometimes feels like you'll be here at this particular stop forever. But it isn't permanent. Nothing here is. And that is the greatest hope I have.

Hebrews 12:25-29

See that you do not refuse him who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused him who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject him who warns from heaven. At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.” This phrase, “Yet once more,” indicates the removal of things that are shaken—that is, things that have been made—in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.