This morning was rushed...I couldn't get ready fast enough, I had to get gas before leaving town, and I took my vitamin before I ate breakfast...big mistake...makes me feel nauseous...bluh. So, I was fighting all of this on my way to work and still trying to still my mind and my stomach. The song "A Baby Changes Everything" came on and that did it...well, at least for my mind.
Part of the song says,
"Teenage girl, much too young
Unprepared for what's to come
A baby changes everything
Not a ring on her hand
All her dreams and all her plans
A baby changes everything."
Now, I'm not a mother...but, I have been privileged to be a part of welcoming many "first" babies into the lives of my friends in the past few years. Babies do change everything--guitars are put away, toys take over living rooms, rooms are converted by cribs and soft pastels, dads become mush, parents become sleep deprived, and on and on...life changes when a baby comes. New life demands change...there's no other option as we accept the new.
Mary's life was turned upside down by the birth of the Christ child...but not just because she birthed Jesus, but because she became a mother for the first time. And, allow me some freedom of speculation here, but I think that, even though there were surprises, uncertainty, and all that comes with being a first time mom, there was also the realization of a dream--to be a mother. Who she was as a woman came to fruition as she birthed her first baby. Isn't that beautiful in its simplicity? A baby changes everything....in a way that deepens a life well lived and purposes fulfilled.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Day 4, Sunday
Today's emphasis in church was "Peace." I chuckled inwardly during the service...I do have some filters left and held it in...because the service was like a circus at times...kids moving to get in place to sing, youth up and down to get in place to play handbells, etc, etc...
We got up to sing before the sermon and it was as if everything stilled...I sang these words-
"It's still a mystery to me that the hands of God could be so small,
How tiny fingers reaching in the night could be the hands that measured the sky."
God came to us...not at a "perfect" time, when people expected the arrival of a King, or at a time that was free of conflict...and God did not come in conventional way. God came as a baby--birthed by a teenage girl, no mid-wife or mother to be found, immortal God dependent on mortal man. By coming in this way, God taught us and continues to teach us an important lesson--peace comes despite our surroundings. We can sit around and complain about our nation, our government, the state of the world...we can get bogged down in how "bad" things are these days for our families, ourselves, and our world...
But peace has come to us--as a baby, as a Spirit, as a Creator God, as a cross, as an empty tomb...
And continues to come to us--in new life, in a small voice in the darkness, in a child's laugh, in a friend's smile, in music that moves, in grass that grows...
Do you see it? Do you feel it? Do you recognize that peace lives in your heart? And that you have the capacity to be peace to someone else? Be peace.
We got up to sing before the sermon and it was as if everything stilled...I sang these words-
"It's still a mystery to me that the hands of God could be so small,
How tiny fingers reaching in the night could be the hands that measured the sky."
God came to us...not at a "perfect" time, when people expected the arrival of a King, or at a time that was free of conflict...and God did not come in conventional way. God came as a baby--birthed by a teenage girl, no mid-wife or mother to be found, immortal God dependent on mortal man. By coming in this way, God taught us and continues to teach us an important lesson--peace comes despite our surroundings. We can sit around and complain about our nation, our government, the state of the world...we can get bogged down in how "bad" things are these days for our families, ourselves, and our world...
But peace has come to us--as a baby, as a Spirit, as a Creator God, as a cross, as an empty tomb...
And continues to come to us--in new life, in a small voice in the darkness, in a child's laugh, in a friend's smile, in music that moves, in grass that grows...
Do you see it? Do you feel it? Do you recognize that peace lives in your heart? And that you have the capacity to be peace to someone else? Be peace.
Day 3 of Reflections
I apologize for the delay in my reflections...it's not because I was slacking, but because I have no internet access at home and had to wait for the weekend to pass to get back on! :) So, three days at once here we go!
Saturday, December 3
Every morning of the week, I have a rather lengthy commute, around 35 minutes to school. Most mornings I am wrapped up in my own thoughts or so zoned out that I don't even pay attention to my surroundings...getting down the road is my aim. But, last week, there was one morning that I looked up and gave attention to the mountains. They were absolutely breath-taking...they were a crisp blue and so defined against the morning sky. I gasped slightly and tears welled in my eyes. I was overcome by creation, by the simplicity of something that is there every day, waiting for me to notice...
I wanted to take a picture...to capture the moment. But, all of a sudden, I drove into the valley and the mountains became veiled by thick, dense fog. The moment was gone, the beauty had disappeared...but had it? I had this light bulb moment when I realized that faith is the same...God gifts us with these moments of clarity--we see clearly for an instant, we don't doubt, we are immersed in the presence of God, we see, but for a moment, the beauty of God...
And then it is veiled...we experience death, we have a bad day, we pray and feel like the prayers rain back down on us, we stumble through steps of faith....and yet, we must remember the beauty that we once beheld...because it is there...just hidden perhaps for a moment.
Saturday, December 3
Every morning of the week, I have a rather lengthy commute, around 35 minutes to school. Most mornings I am wrapped up in my own thoughts or so zoned out that I don't even pay attention to my surroundings...getting down the road is my aim. But, last week, there was one morning that I looked up and gave attention to the mountains. They were absolutely breath-taking...they were a crisp blue and so defined against the morning sky. I gasped slightly and tears welled in my eyes. I was overcome by creation, by the simplicity of something that is there every day, waiting for me to notice...
I wanted to take a picture...to capture the moment. But, all of a sudden, I drove into the valley and the mountains became veiled by thick, dense fog. The moment was gone, the beauty had disappeared...but had it? I had this light bulb moment when I realized that faith is the same...God gifts us with these moments of clarity--we see clearly for an instant, we don't doubt, we are immersed in the presence of God, we see, but for a moment, the beauty of God...
And then it is veiled...we experience death, we have a bad day, we pray and feel like the prayers rain back down on us, we stumble through steps of faith....and yet, we must remember the beauty that we once beheld...because it is there...just hidden perhaps for a moment.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Day 2 of Reflections...
Most of you know that I was born on Christmas Day...more years ago than I care to admit now...and it was definitely a surprise to my parents who expected my arrival in February. I wonder if Jesus was a premie? Had Mary's nine months come to an end? Or did God surprise her and the rest of the world with an early arrival? My mom wasn't prepared for me...but obviously, I came. The world wasn't prepared for Jesus to come as he did, but he came. He still comes, whether we are prepared or not.
But, as in the birth of any child, my mom experienced a gift like no other...of a child...of her own flesh...but also not of herself...
How much more did Mary experience as she carried the Son of God in her womb and then gave birth to him? Of herself, but of God? Blows my mind...
Christmas has always been a special holiday for my family...joy has always been an element present in our family around this season. As a child, it was always busy...Daddy was preparing for the Christmas cantatas, Mama was cooking, groups at church were preparing gifts for families, and on and on. In all of this busy-ness, Mama and Daddy started traditions which have become central to my recollections of the season.
I don't remember my first Christmas of course...we have many traditions...we open gifts from siblings on Christmas Eve...we eat crab stew and broccoli cornbread on Christmas Eve because that's what my mom had when she went into labor with me...and for many years we went to people's houses as a family to carol outside their doors on Christmas Eve. Sometimes, the "kids" went reluctantly, but we always ended up with bright smiles on our faces after seeing what a few songs and blended voices did for the people to whom we sang.
I was teaching Preschool Choir the other night...can't get away from those 4 and 5 year olds....I read a story about a college student who went to Senegal and painted the Bible stories that were told to women in a small group. I told the kids...God can use whatever you're good at to tell others how much Jesus loves them...not everyone is a painter or singer, but God can use so many things--there was a doctor in the room, a teacher, and much more.
Today, I thought about my little voice and how my parents taught me from a very early age to use it for God's glory. I've come a long way since my first Christmas carol "Away in a Manger" that never was sung to the congregation when I was three years old. It was never about the "audience," but about the few that received our sincere gifts that brought joy, not only to them, but to a small family practicing the art of tradition. And aren't the gifts that we have received the most joy from ones that seemed small at the time? A baby doll, a note from a friend, a pie prepared especially for us, a kind word, a warm hug...these are the things that make up a rich life....a baby boy born so long ago...may we not lose sight of these precious gifts.
But, as in the birth of any child, my mom experienced a gift like no other...of a child...of her own flesh...but also not of herself...
How much more did Mary experience as she carried the Son of God in her womb and then gave birth to him? Of herself, but of God? Blows my mind...
Christmas has always been a special holiday for my family...joy has always been an element present in our family around this season. As a child, it was always busy...Daddy was preparing for the Christmas cantatas, Mama was cooking, groups at church were preparing gifts for families, and on and on. In all of this busy-ness, Mama and Daddy started traditions which have become central to my recollections of the season.
I don't remember my first Christmas of course...we have many traditions...we open gifts from siblings on Christmas Eve...we eat crab stew and broccoli cornbread on Christmas Eve because that's what my mom had when she went into labor with me...and for many years we went to people's houses as a family to carol outside their doors on Christmas Eve. Sometimes, the "kids" went reluctantly, but we always ended up with bright smiles on our faces after seeing what a few songs and blended voices did for the people to whom we sang.
I was teaching Preschool Choir the other night...can't get away from those 4 and 5 year olds....I read a story about a college student who went to Senegal and painted the Bible stories that were told to women in a small group. I told the kids...God can use whatever you're good at to tell others how much Jesus loves them...not everyone is a painter or singer, but God can use so many things--there was a doctor in the room, a teacher, and much more.
Today, I thought about my little voice and how my parents taught me from a very early age to use it for God's glory. I've come a long way since my first Christmas carol "Away in a Manger" that never was sung to the congregation when I was three years old. It was never about the "audience," but about the few that received our sincere gifts that brought joy, not only to them, but to a small family practicing the art of tradition. And aren't the gifts that we have received the most joy from ones that seemed small at the time? A baby doll, a note from a friend, a pie prepared especially for us, a kind word, a warm hug...these are the things that make up a rich life....a baby boy born so long ago...may we not lose sight of these precious gifts.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
25 Days of Reflections...Day 1
In an attmept to save myself from the hustle and bustle of this season, I have committed myself to writing a reflection every day leading up to Christmas Day. I recognize the need to stop and see this season differently than ever before...to marvel, to wonder, to be reminded of why I believe.
It's hard to stop. It's hard to take a breath in between Christmas parties, shopping excursions (although if you know me, you know that doesn't happen often), cooking and baking treats, presenting Christmas programs, and rushing here and there. The harsh reality is that, as believers, something is missing. Our culture has sucked us into a virtual vacuum of candy canes, ribbons, bows, piped in Christmas carols, and twinkling lights. Instead of allowing those things to enhance our mysterious belief, I have let them take over my wonder and joy of the season.
This week, I was reading the lyrics to "Come Thou Fount"--"Tune my heart to sing thy praise." I started praying, Lord, tune my heart for this season. It starts there--in the place we once chose to allow God to dwell. And if God is dwelling there, it is full of goodness and light. Tuning requires work on the part of the one tuning. It also requires an instrument that is abandoned to the work of the one holding it. We must let go to allow God to make us better.
Last week, we sang the familiar carol, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." It's one of my favorite carols...not because of sentiment...it has become a favorite in the last few years as I have begun to recognize the messiness of this life. The carol has somewhat of a daunting, eerie sound to it, and then bursts forth with the proclamation "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to us O Israel!"
Christmas time does not erase the mess of life--there are still hungry people, there are people who have plenty and yet are sad, people die, others mourn, babies are born,...life continues. And isn't that the point? Life didn't stop when Jesus was born so long ago. Most people didn't even know that he had come into the world. A few's hearts were tuned well enough that they heard his cries for creation and came to see this most peculiar King in the form of a baby cooing to the cows and donkeys. And what a surprise....a baby breathed his first breath in a dirty cave, among animals. Young, scared parents received him. God enters our lives and is WITH US in all things. Sometimes it's scary to let God in--into the mess, the questions, the uncertainty, the joy, all of it--but if we do, we will Rejoice! Rejoice! at how beautifully tuned our hearts are to God's purposes and workings in and through us.
It's hard to stop. It's hard to take a breath in between Christmas parties, shopping excursions (although if you know me, you know that doesn't happen often), cooking and baking treats, presenting Christmas programs, and rushing here and there. The harsh reality is that, as believers, something is missing. Our culture has sucked us into a virtual vacuum of candy canes, ribbons, bows, piped in Christmas carols, and twinkling lights. Instead of allowing those things to enhance our mysterious belief, I have let them take over my wonder and joy of the season.
This week, I was reading the lyrics to "Come Thou Fount"--"Tune my heart to sing thy praise." I started praying, Lord, tune my heart for this season. It starts there--in the place we once chose to allow God to dwell. And if God is dwelling there, it is full of goodness and light. Tuning requires work on the part of the one tuning. It also requires an instrument that is abandoned to the work of the one holding it. We must let go to allow God to make us better.
Last week, we sang the familiar carol, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." It's one of my favorite carols...not because of sentiment...it has become a favorite in the last few years as I have begun to recognize the messiness of this life. The carol has somewhat of a daunting, eerie sound to it, and then bursts forth with the proclamation "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to us O Israel!"
Christmas time does not erase the mess of life--there are still hungry people, there are people who have plenty and yet are sad, people die, others mourn, babies are born,...life continues. And isn't that the point? Life didn't stop when Jesus was born so long ago. Most people didn't even know that he had come into the world. A few's hearts were tuned well enough that they heard his cries for creation and came to see this most peculiar King in the form of a baby cooing to the cows and donkeys. And what a surprise....a baby breathed his first breath in a dirty cave, among animals. Young, scared parents received him. God enters our lives and is WITH US in all things. Sometimes it's scary to let God in--into the mess, the questions, the uncertainty, the joy, all of it--but if we do, we will Rejoice! Rejoice! at how beautifully tuned our hearts are to God's purposes and workings in and through us.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
It's that time again....how does it happen?!
How does Christmas come more quickly every year? Am I starting to sound old? :)
Anyway, I always try to gather some thoughts amidst the craziness of the season....so here goes...
I was considering the role of the shepherds the other day in the whole birth of Jesus and wrote down some ideas about what they must have felt.
We had just gotten up to do the night shift--
the graveyard shift as a shepherd, watching over the fields by night.
This is the lowest of the low, but we have to make it,
so we work and hope for something better some day.
On this particular night, we were visited by unlikely guests--
most people are scared of the dark, but we've gotten used to the vastness of the open skies, the bleating of the sheep,
and the sounds most people run from in terror.
On this dark night, we became immobilized by light....fear gripped us as the skies lit up around us...
It took us a while to realize that we weren't in fact dreaming;
We were surrounded by a haevenly host, proclaiming the birth of the hope we had been waiting for.
We couldn't believe that it was all true, but hope was enough to make us pick up our staffs and walk in faith to the child.
As we journeyed, we kept trusting in each step and hoping that what we heard was true.
We arrived as we left---
dirty, poor, and with nothing to give but out worship of the hope deep inside us that was now in the form of a baby boy.
And all we could do was bow and worship.
If we stop for a minute, we will realize that as God called to the shepherds, he calls to each of us--in our poor, dirty states, we are called to come, to walk, to run to meet the hope found in Christ...not because we are good, or wealthy, or wise,
But because we have enough need deep within us to seek something better, something that gives light (sometimes with a little fear) and hope.....
May we realize our deep need and meet the one given for ALL of us...and as we see our own need, may our eyes be opened to the need all around us, in the lives of those he loves.
Anyway, I always try to gather some thoughts amidst the craziness of the season....so here goes...
I was considering the role of the shepherds the other day in the whole birth of Jesus and wrote down some ideas about what they must have felt.
We had just gotten up to do the night shift--
the graveyard shift as a shepherd, watching over the fields by night.
This is the lowest of the low, but we have to make it,
so we work and hope for something better some day.
On this particular night, we were visited by unlikely guests--
most people are scared of the dark, but we've gotten used to the vastness of the open skies, the bleating of the sheep,
and the sounds most people run from in terror.
On this dark night, we became immobilized by light....fear gripped us as the skies lit up around us...
It took us a while to realize that we weren't in fact dreaming;
We were surrounded by a haevenly host, proclaiming the birth of the hope we had been waiting for.
We couldn't believe that it was all true, but hope was enough to make us pick up our staffs and walk in faith to the child.
As we journeyed, we kept trusting in each step and hoping that what we heard was true.
We arrived as we left---
dirty, poor, and with nothing to give but out worship of the hope deep inside us that was now in the form of a baby boy.
And all we could do was bow and worship.
If we stop for a minute, we will realize that as God called to the shepherds, he calls to each of us--in our poor, dirty states, we are called to come, to walk, to run to meet the hope found in Christ...not because we are good, or wealthy, or wise,
But because we have enough need deep within us to seek something better, something that gives light (sometimes with a little fear) and hope.....
May we realize our deep need and meet the one given for ALL of us...and as we see our own need, may our eyes be opened to the need all around us, in the lives of those he loves.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
settling in...
The cold has begun to settle in here in East Tennessee...we didn't have much of spectacular Autumn this year. The leaves changed quickly and are falling quickly now. I sat outside for around four hours today...even through the sleet/flurries of the day.
It's cold, but it's beautiful. The air is fresh and crisp and the wind makes my eyes smart in a way that makes me feel awake. Joy and beauty are in every season. And with each season come memories...when it gets cold, I miss certain people more. I miss dear ones from Chicago, remembering the survival of those many months of harsh weather, but warm moments that allowed us to share our hearts with each other and hot chocolate and warm cookies and such. I turned on Little Women today to ring in the cold weather.
On a more general note, I am student teaching and have about 5 weeks left...6 weeks until graduation. I will be officially "hooded" December 17...can it be? I need a job. Praying and hoping for the best.
The other day I was reminded of what being here is all about--not just in this place, but wherever I am. I have been so busy with a huge paper, student teaching, church, etc, that I haven't been paying attention to those around me very well. The other day I was reminded of how important it is to practice the act of presence through two students who needed someone to listen and to care enough to look at them with an ounce of compassion. Don't we all need that sometimes? People, no matter their culture, look for listening ears, kind eyes, and genuine hearts. I hope I can be that for someone every day in some tiny way.
It's cold, but it's beautiful. The air is fresh and crisp and the wind makes my eyes smart in a way that makes me feel awake. Joy and beauty are in every season. And with each season come memories...when it gets cold, I miss certain people more. I miss dear ones from Chicago, remembering the survival of those many months of harsh weather, but warm moments that allowed us to share our hearts with each other and hot chocolate and warm cookies and such. I turned on Little Women today to ring in the cold weather.
On a more general note, I am student teaching and have about 5 weeks left...6 weeks until graduation. I will be officially "hooded" December 17...can it be? I need a job. Praying and hoping for the best.
The other day I was reminded of what being here is all about--not just in this place, but wherever I am. I have been so busy with a huge paper, student teaching, church, etc, that I haven't been paying attention to those around me very well. The other day I was reminded of how important it is to practice the act of presence through two students who needed someone to listen and to care enough to look at them with an ounce of compassion. Don't we all need that sometimes? People, no matter their culture, look for listening ears, kind eyes, and genuine hearts. I hope I can be that for someone every day in some tiny way.
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