Some Advent Reflections (1)

Dec 2, 2007 | Hope & Encouragement, My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality

In the spirit of Advent – the beginning of the church year – I decided to begin something (again): I went to church.

Not having been on a Sunday morning for nearly a year, it was an odd yet very familiar and comfortable experience. I saw many faces I recognized, most of which I haven’t seen for a long time. I sang songs I recognized, most of which I haven’t heard for a long time. I felt home…even though this particular community of faith is new for me.

This morning felt like an appropriate start for Advent – the season of beginnings, of anticipation, of expectation of God’s coming, of God’s longed-for presence. Though my theology tells me that God is with me whether I ever darken the door of a church or not, there was something right and good about knowing Emmanuel (God with us) in a sanctuary with candles, bread and wine, music, and others. I’m grateful.

But wait, there’s more…

I’ve been thinking about the acknowledgement and celebration of Advent as a discipline for myself this year. Perhaps going to church this morning sparked that reality; nevertheless, it’s my desire and intent to be able to post some reflections using the daily texts (though I’ll extend myself enough grace here at the outset to acknowledge that I may not get to this every day…).

So, I begin.

Sunday, December 2 Scripture Readings:
Psalm 111, Amos 1:1-5, 13-2:8, 1 Thess. 5:1-11, Luke 21:5-19

With the exception of the Psalm, these are some scary verses – all doom and gloom, warnings of God’s wrath, and projections of what life will be like at the end of all things. In the Old Testament reading we hear words of anger, war, judgment, fire, exile, battle cries, much harm to pregnant women. In 1 Thessalonians, Paul speaks of the Lord coming like a thief in the night and…again with the pregnant woman
language…with destruction coming on people suddenly as labor pains on a pregnant woman. And in Luke, Jesus speaks of nations rising against nations, of being betrayed by family and friends, of being hated.

Not really the messages we like to read – especially in a season filled with happy Christmas carols, jolly Santa’s, twinkling lights, and present purchasing.

What are these passages about? Why the first readings of Advent? What are they trying to say?

These verses, in many ways, articulated the reality that people already knew. The Israelites had been waiting for deliverance, for their Messiah, for a very long time. They knew much about God’s anger, judgment, and the experience of exile. In such a state wouldn’t one anticipate and long for God-with-us, Emmanuel even more passionately? Wouldn’t advent be a beginning deeply hungered for? And in Paul’s day, a church in early beginnings, fits and starts, and much persecution, wouldn’t the be hungry for a message that reminded them that the Divine was yet to come; to be alert and on the watch for God-with-us, Emmanuel? As Jesus prepared his disciples for his imminent departure, would they not hunger for the signs that would let them know that he was going to return; that God-with-us, Emmanuel would come and reign?

Advent: a season of anticipation.

Advent: a season of acknowledging what is – in our fear, in our disappointment, in our dashed expectations, in our tired-of-waiting state.

Advent: a season of hungering for more – for God-with-us, Emmanuel.

In the midst of what is we can take heart. We can encourage one another. We need not worry. We will be cared for. We need not fear. We can stand firm. That is good news. That is, indeed, God-with-us, Emmanuel.

Happy 47th Birthday to Me!

Nov 30, 2007 | Hope & Encouragement, Mothers and Daughters, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

After writing posts for both of my daughters on their birthdays, I thought it only fitting that I do the same for myself!

Happy Birthday to me!

This has been a full, rich, painful, beautiful, long, amazing, surprising, miraculous, arduous, labor-filled year. I have known many tears, much frustration, and deep anguish. I have also known more laughter and life than ever before. I have been struck again and again by how amazing it is that both can coexist and frankly, be enhanced when juxtaposed to one another.

I’ve had many conversations with Emma and Abby this past year about what it means to let more than one thing be true at the same time: disappointment and hope, sadness and joy, frustration and desire. And this has been a year of that being enfleshed within me – on their behalf, certainly, but powerfully, on my own.

I have found much strength within me these past twelve months; strength that has enabled me to make difficult decisions and then live with the ramifications of such, strength that has allowed me to survive – and even thrive – in places I’d feared (and avoided) for many years. And that strength has, amazingly, not made me tougher, harder, or colder; rather, its enabled me to feel more tender, compassionate, and “present” to my own heart and the heart’s of others. I’m grateful.

Last year at this time I could have never been convinced of or prepared for the twelve months that were about to commence. Note to self: be glad you don’t know the future! Out of curiosity, I went back to the past – to my blog posts from about a year ago to see what I was writing. I came across some October, 2006 reflections on the women of Proverbs 1 and 31 that were amazingly prophetic for the year that was to come:

These women – metaphorical and real – are who I want to be: wise, listening to and living with those on the margins, gaining strength through perseverance and struggle, dignified and fearless, forever laughing with the abandon of a child. God knows and loves this woman. I am becoming this woman.

Indeed, I am. I feel more wise, more able to listen to those who are unseen, forgotten, or harmed, strengthened through perseverance and certainly struggle, more dignified, more fearless, and often laughing both with the abandon of a child – and with my own children.

I am this woman. Amazing.

That’s a year worth celebrating in the midst of acknowledging and grieving its losses and pains.

Another year older. Another year of being the grateful recipient of consistent, unpredictable, mysterious, and precious life.

Cruising – literally…

Nov 28, 2007 | Hope & Encouragement, Mothers and Daughters

Is there a place that one can go to get away from all thought of stolen cars or even the graciousness of given ones?

I found it.

Emma, Abby, and I just returned from 7 days on a cruise ship to the Mexican Riviera (along with my parents, my
sister, her husband and two boys, and my brother and his girlfriend). None of us thought about cars. In fact, we didn’t think about much at all. We did, however, thoroughly enjoy every second of our trip.

I’ve now been officially bitten by the cruise-bug. I loved it! No thought of schedules. No thought of work. No thought of cooking or cleaning. No thought of dieting. No thought of too much sun. No thought of rain. I told you: we didn’t think much at all!

I’m torn as I think back on our ventures: I loved getting off the ship and seeing Cabo, Mazatlan, and Puerto Vallarta – sitting on the beaches, buying cheap silver jewelry from the vendors, watching the girls play in the surf and the sand; but I also loved the days at sea – watching the water stretch to the horizon, feeling the rocking of the ship, knowing that every detail and necessity would be taken care of on my behalf. How can you go wrong when faced with these options?

More than anything (yes, even more than not needing to think) I enjoyed the time away – together – with my daughters. It was lovely to see them relaxed, spontaneous, uncensored, full of laughter and life. It was lovely to be the same in their presence.

And it was hard to return – to realities that don’t always imbue relaxation, spontaneity, or easy truth-telling. We’ve been back for 5 days and our land-legs are returning – as are our guard, our tension, our roles.

I think for me, more than the desire to cruise again, I have the desire to live in a way that enables the kind of freedom and joy we knew while gone. I know it’s not completely possible in the contexts and realities of everyday responsibilities and stresses; but I also know it can happen.

That’s the memory to which I’ll return – again and again – and seek to recreate, both in imagination and in reality.

In the midst of stolen cars, given cars, and even returned cars (yes…mine was found, finally, quite a bit worse for wear, but now in front of my house again), I’m grateful I can go to a place that is warm – yes, in the memory of the beaches and 90+-degree temps; but even more, in my heart as I picture the three of us together laughing, living, loving.

About Unexpected Generosity

Nov 8, 2007 | Hope & Encouragement

Still no news on my stolen car. Frustrating, yes, but that emotion has been offset by the stunning and unexpected generosity of one of my dearest friends.

She GAVE me a car!

She called randomly that morning just to see how I was doing – the day I went outside and found nothing. I said, “Well, I’ve had better days.” Our conversation continued and after she expressed her rage and indignation she said, “OK…we have a car that I was about to donate to the church. We have two others and don’t need this one. It’s just been sitting in the garage for the last four months. I was planning to give it to a needy family. You can have it.”

Who knew I’d be the needy family?!?

Tomorrow I’ll go to the DMV and get the title switched, the tabs renewed, and the insurance instated on my policy. I’ll also take it to a repair shop to have it looked over – just to see what needs to be done.

I’ve been thinking: as much as I desire to be in control, even though I know I’m not, it might be that I don’t really want to trust that the Divine, the Sacred is actually in control. I’m not always certain that I can depend on such; that were I to let go of control (holding on the illustion that I have it in the first place) things might not go the way I want.

But here’s the thing: when my life is the most out of control is when the Divine chooses to show up, miracles occur, and I am reminded that I’m seen, heard, and cared for – in stunning ways…with unexpected generostiy.

I don’t want any more stolen cars, but I do want eyes that see, ears that hear, and a heart that anticipates the Divine-made-manifest, incarnated really, all around me, all the time.

My Car’s Been Stolen

Nov 2, 2007 | Hope & Encouragement

I know, deep down, that much if not all of life is out of my control. I also know of my proclivity to ignore that reality; to try and hold tightly to anything I can; to try and live with at least the illusion that I have some power to manage my destiny and determine most of what will happen from day-to-day.

This morning ripped that fantasy away and left me standing with my mouth agape and head spinning:

My car was stolen.

I live in a safe, lovely part of town, surrounded by excellent neighbors. A number of them are friends who recognize and care about my daughters and watch out for me in kind, intentional ways. This is just not what I expected to have happen here…or to me. Apparently, I’m not in control.

The police came. I’m waiting for my insurance company to call. I’m borrowing a van from my parents. Life goes on. But not the same as it was before.

Emma doesn’t know how to reconcile her belief in humankind with this kind of unethical behavior. She burst into tears this morning and said, “I’m so mad right now, Mom. How could anyone do this?!?” Abby wonders about what this means for the future. “Can we get a Hummer now, mom?”

I have spent the morning running the mental/emotional gamut and thinking through everything from how to make
sure the girls are OK and how in the world I’ll potentially afford another car to what it will feel like if I get the old one back now knowing that someone else has been rifling through it.

It’s true: I feel like life is out of my control today. I already knew that, but it’s experiences like these that take the knowledge out of my head and into my lived-reality. Give me the fantasy any day! It’s much easier.

About Buses and Gratitude

Oct 21, 2007 | Hope & Encouragement

A new season of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition has begun. The girls and I watched it faithfully last year and stepped back into that tradition again tonight. Despite the part of me that says, “I won’t get teary. I won’t get sucked into this.” I can’t help it. The gratitude of those who receive the new home AND the gratitude of those who have the opportunity to give it to them is contagious. When the next deserving family finally sees what has been created on their behalf, the past makes sense (at least for a few moments), the present is rich and beyond imagining, and the future looks bright and hopeful. Gratitude overwhelms, over flows, overlooks all else. It’s beautiful.

Ah, that it might be the same for us…

Meister Eckhart said, “If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, ‘thank you,’ that would suffice.”

Melody Beattie said, “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

And every week, Ty Pennington says, “Move that bus!”

I’m addicted: I admit it. And when I turn the TV off at 9:00 each Sunday night I feel compelled to be far more grateful for my home, my daughters, my family, my friends, my health, my job, my life. There is much for which to give thanks; bus, or no.