My most cherished memories from Christmas’ of my childhood involve Santa. My parents worked hard to make the magic come alive for my brother and I. Later, when my sisters arrived, it was a family effort to create the magic for them.
In recent years, the dream of Santa has come under attack. Many Christians don’t want their kids to confuse Santa with God and somehow leave God when they outgrow Santa. I don’t want to debate with you; I like to debate but it seems like a futile argument to me.
At my house, we believe in Santa. We write letters to Santa. We know that Santa watches for good boys and girls. We put out cookies and milk. We put carrots on the deck for the reindeer. We move the fireplace screen to leave room for Santa to get in. We actively believe in Santa.
This year I really had to evaluate why believing in Santa was important. There are members of our family who do not teach their children to believe in Santa and can be pretty mocking of our doing so. Our oldest has become very particular and detailed oriented. We had to be so very careful to keep her belief alive.
She asked Santa to bring her cowgirl boots, a cowgirl hat and a turquoise cowgirl vest. Now I am a pretty resourceful shopper and love to bargain hunt. I looked all over and found the cutest boots and hat to actually fit her little clover shaped head. But no matter where I shopped, there was no finding a turquoise cowgirl vest. I found pink leather and brown cowhide. But no turquoise. Oh and did I mention that she came up with this request on December 19th? I had 6 days…
Believing in Santa is partly about trusting your dreams to someone else to see if they can come true. My daughter communicated a dream to me and it was my responsibility to make it a reality. In doing so, I reinforced her ability to have faith. So, two days before Christmas I made a vest out of turquoise bandanas and pink beads. I don’t enjoy sewing nor am I good at it. But, I finished it on the afternoon of Christmas Eve.
On Christmas morning, I emerged from my room to begin breakfast and found both of my daughters tearing into Santa’s gift in the dark. I yelled! I screamed! I was so mad at them that I sent them to their room. In examining the carnage after they left, I found that they had opened everything that Santa had brought to them, their brother, my husband and even me. I wasn’t mad because they had woken up early. I was mad because I had missed that moment. I had missed seeing their faith reinforced. I had missed the sheer joy of finding your dreams fulfilled.
This year Santa taught me to believe in the power of forgiveness. After a just punishment, we all had to forgive each other and move on to cherish Christmas together. It was hard for me because I was still grieving the loss of that moment. It was hard for the girls because they were really mad at me for wrecking their fun. But, having faith in someone means forgiving them when they don’t meet your expectations.
We believe in Santa and all the lessons that belief brings with it…
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Noel
I remember the day that each of my children was born. Our oldest was born in the morning after a long, sleepless night. I remember how afraid I was both of giving birth and for her health. She came with a lot of drama as her cord was prolapsed and her heart rate kept dropping. When she was finally laid on my chest, I cried from sheer relief that she was safe.
Our second was also born in the morning. However, there had been no night of long, fearful labor. She came quickly and with much surprise! We fully expected a boy and when she arrived the doctor announced, “She’s here!” My husband and I both turned to look for the newly arrived nurse and the doctor said, “Your daughter, she’s here!” When she was laid on my chest, I cried tears of surprised joy.
Our youngest was born in the afternoon, just one more way to declare his uniqueness! He screamed his way into this world and hasn’t been too quiet since. His delivery felt routine and normal. When he was laid on my chest, I cried tears of peace.
This time of year always gets me thinking about a night, in a stable, so many years ago. A young girl gave birth to her first without the aid of her mother or sisters. Her husband must have felt very shy to be helping her in this way as he had never known her, to use the biblical term.
I always wonder how much she knew as held that baby boy. Did she love him as a child or as a God? Did she see any of her own physical traits in him? Did she truly welcome smelly shepherds as she lay exhausted and cold? How did she define her tears that night? Fear? Relief? Love? Joy?
The wonders of incarnation never cease to amaze me. I attempt to wrap my mind around God as an infant. God needing a diaper change. God hungry. God sleepy. I know infants. I’ve had a few! Really…God as a baby? He wasn’t really God at that moment was he? How could God have been a fetus? An infant? A toddler? A teenager? Flesh on divinity is wondrous and preposterous at the same time!
This time of year wraps me in arms of love; arms that had flesh on them and arms that understand the need for physical comfort. Christmas brings into fresh perspective that there is a love so strong that it would be born in a barn.
Luke 2: 4-7 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Our second was also born in the morning. However, there had been no night of long, fearful labor. She came quickly and with much surprise! We fully expected a boy and when she arrived the doctor announced, “She’s here!” My husband and I both turned to look for the newly arrived nurse and the doctor said, “Your daughter, she’s here!” When she was laid on my chest, I cried tears of surprised joy.
Our youngest was born in the afternoon, just one more way to declare his uniqueness! He screamed his way into this world and hasn’t been too quiet since. His delivery felt routine and normal. When he was laid on my chest, I cried tears of peace.
This time of year always gets me thinking about a night, in a stable, so many years ago. A young girl gave birth to her first without the aid of her mother or sisters. Her husband must have felt very shy to be helping her in this way as he had never known her, to use the biblical term.
I always wonder how much she knew as held that baby boy. Did she love him as a child or as a God? Did she see any of her own physical traits in him? Did she truly welcome smelly shepherds as she lay exhausted and cold? How did she define her tears that night? Fear? Relief? Love? Joy?
The wonders of incarnation never cease to amaze me. I attempt to wrap my mind around God as an infant. God needing a diaper change. God hungry. God sleepy. I know infants. I’ve had a few! Really…God as a baby? He wasn’t really God at that moment was he? How could God have been a fetus? An infant? A toddler? A teenager? Flesh on divinity is wondrous and preposterous at the same time!
This time of year wraps me in arms of love; arms that had flesh on them and arms that understand the need for physical comfort. Christmas brings into fresh perspective that there is a love so strong that it would be born in a barn.
Luke 2: 4-7 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Eat, Pray, Love
I love to read! I will read a lot of different genres but my favorite is fiction. I love a great story about a character that I relate to in their search for something.
So, I was shocked to LOVE Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert! Nonfiction is often exhausting to me but this book was not a burden to read. It is the spiritual memoir of a woman needing to find answers for her messed up life and broken heart. She pursues answers to the hard questions in the three "I"s: Italy, India and Indonesia.
"Eat" is in Italy where Elizabeth travels to eat great food and learn Italian, a lifelong fantasy. She pursues the gift of pleasure, trying to capture all that we Americans have missed in our effienciency of life.
"Love" is in Bali, Indonesia where Liz pursues balance in her life. Balance of pleasure and discipline. Balance of joy and pain.
But my favorite section is "Pray". Liz is in India, living in an Ashram. She makes some astounding statements regarding faith. Here are three of my favorite quotes.
Saint Augustine said, "Our whole business therefore in this life is to restore to health the eye of the heart whereby God may be seen."
How's your vision these days?
"If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be...a prudent insurance policy." page 175
I wonder if I've been pursuing insurance or faith for all of my life?
"This is what rituals are for. We do spiritual ceremonies as human beings in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don't have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down. We all need such places of ritual safekeeping. And I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn't have the specific ritual you are craving, then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising, fixing your own broken-down emotional systems with all the do it yourself resourcefulness of a generous plumber/poet (an inside joke). If you bring the right earnestness to your homemade ceremony, God will provide the grace. And that is why we need a God." page 187
I can't even respond to this one for all that it evokes in me. But I know that I need that grace to reach out to me...all the time.
I hope that you will read this book, not because I liked it or because Oprah said to. Read it because it will challenge you to find a bigger God and a more personal voyage of faith. Let me know when you finish...I want to talk!
So, I was shocked to LOVE Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert! Nonfiction is often exhausting to me but this book was not a burden to read. It is the spiritual memoir of a woman needing to find answers for her messed up life and broken heart. She pursues answers to the hard questions in the three "I"s: Italy, India and Indonesia.
"Eat" is in Italy where Elizabeth travels to eat great food and learn Italian, a lifelong fantasy. She pursues the gift of pleasure, trying to capture all that we Americans have missed in our effienciency of life.
"Love" is in Bali, Indonesia where Liz pursues balance in her life. Balance of pleasure and discipline. Balance of joy and pain.
But my favorite section is "Pray". Liz is in India, living in an Ashram. She makes some astounding statements regarding faith. Here are three of my favorite quotes.
Saint Augustine said, "Our whole business therefore in this life is to restore to health the eye of the heart whereby God may be seen."
How's your vision these days?
"If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be...a prudent insurance policy." page 175
I wonder if I've been pursuing insurance or faith for all of my life?
"This is what rituals are for. We do spiritual ceremonies as human beings in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don't have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down. We all need such places of ritual safekeeping. And I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn't have the specific ritual you are craving, then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising, fixing your own broken-down emotional systems with all the do it yourself resourcefulness of a generous plumber/poet (an inside joke). If you bring the right earnestness to your homemade ceremony, God will provide the grace. And that is why we need a God." page 187
I can't even respond to this one for all that it evokes in me. But I know that I need that grace to reach out to me...all the time.
I hope that you will read this book, not because I liked it or because Oprah said to. Read it because it will challenge you to find a bigger God and a more personal voyage of faith. Let me know when you finish...I want to talk!
Monday, December 3, 2007
Peace
I love Christmastime! I love a home lit by Christmas trees and outdoor lights. I love the smells of cinnamon apples and baking cookies. I love getting cards and pictures from friends. I love spending time thinking about what gift will bring joy to people that I love.
Yesterday at church we began a series on messianic psalms, the first of which dealt with peace. I don't always associate Christmastime with peacefulness; usually I think of busyness! But, the point was that Jesus came as a peace offering to man. God made his peace with peaople. If the church is to be the hands and feet of Christ, then the church should be the peacemaker of the world. Hmm...
What does that truth say to a church whose history is full of nasty fights and splits? What does that say to us who are so likely to focus inward rather than outward? What does that say? I feel the call to be peace. I want church to be part of that effort. What does that look like? How does it work? Any ideas?
Yesterday at church we began a series on messianic psalms, the first of which dealt with peace. I don't always associate Christmastime with peacefulness; usually I think of busyness! But, the point was that Jesus came as a peace offering to man. God made his peace with peaople. If the church is to be the hands and feet of Christ, then the church should be the peacemaker of the world. Hmm...
What does that truth say to a church whose history is full of nasty fights and splits? What does that say to us who are so likely to focus inward rather than outward? What does that say? I feel the call to be peace. I want church to be part of that effort. What does that look like? How does it work? Any ideas?
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