The White Christmas That Wasn't

My five year old son wanted his daddy (my ex-husband) to come home again. With the faith of a child, he began to pray and to fast (sweets) for his daddy to "come to Jesus and come home to live with us".  After what appeared to be a miraculous transformation and the answer to a child's prayers, I remarried him. It may have seemed a naive decision, but I fully recognized the risk of the old problems resurfacing. I never expected what happened, however.

I certainly wasn't blameless, don't get me wrong about that. I could see something was awry, but could not seem to fix it, and pretty soon I began to wonder. Were the old problems back again?  

That particular Christmas Day was the best ever. All the children were home and we had a wonderful time. No one was ready to leave, so my husband went to visit his parents alone, and didn't come home that night.  In fact, he never came home. it was months before we saw him again. 

Christmas Day was the beginning of the worst few years of my life. I soon learned that he was having an affair with a much younger woman. Things went from bad to worse, and before a year had passed, she would bear him a son. 

As the summer months were waning, I began to think about the coming holidays. My dread was so great that I could hardly talk about it. Somehow, his leaving and Christmas Day seemed hopelessly intertwined. How could I celebrate the birth of my Savior on the anniversary of the death of my marriage? 

When I mentioned it to my sister, she had an immediate solution. She had been thinking that renting a cabin in the mountains where we could all be together for a white Christmas would be the very thing to do. Somehow, Cookie the Super Sister managed to convince our Mama, her husband, all her children, her son-in-law and the grandchildren that this white Christmas was what everyone wanted to do (or at least what they should do for me and my son). Ever the organizer and maker of lists, she soon had the holiday organized into easily divided tasks. Cookie the Super Sister assigned each of us a meal to cook, a time to clean, chores to do. It wasn't all work, though. She had planned games and activities that we could all enjoy. We laughed and played together.  We loved each other right out loud.  We enjoyed being together. Not once did the avid hunters in the group complain about missing prime hunting season. Not once did anyone complain about missing holiday traditions or long time routines. No one grumbled. No one argued. There was hardly any whining about the lack of snow!

What could have been a black cloud overshadowing the birth of Christ for years to come was transformed into the sweetest of memories by the agape love of God demonstrated by my family. Even now, the depth of my sister's love and my family's sacrifice astounds me and moves me to tears.  I didn't deserve it, but I will never forget it. In fact, I was transformed by it. Yesterday's pain has become today's cherished memory. 

I've begun to decorate my home for the holidays, dragging out all those cherished ornaments and nativity sets, again this year. The traditional family Christmas I have planned with my son this year will be all the sweeter because of the white-Christmas-that-wasn't and the love that was lavished upon us that year so long ago. 

There's a Christmas song that says "Love came down at Christmas". It certainly did!  Because of the love of a tiny God-man more than 2000 years ago, love came down again at Christmas in the form of a loving sister and sacrificing family. So much love...

Blessings of joy this Christmas season, dear ones. Merry Christmas!

,

Friday Night with Friends - Dean C. Lamb

I'm so excited to introduce our first-ever guest blogger! I have known him for more years than we want to admit, and he was the first person I knew who not only dared to call himself a writer, but actually was a writer. He is that most mysterious of souls, for he is a writer who writes from his heart.  Dean Lamb teaches creative writing to inner city youth. He is a gifted weaver of stories and words, and has shared his heart with us tonight. It's a timely word. Enjoy!

The Christmas Lights by Dean C. Lamb

I’ve always loved Christmas lights. Almost always…

When I was a child, living in a rural home where my daddy worked long hours on his farm and in his general store, we had a humble – but beautiful to me --Christmas tree. My dad liked simple candles, though, for our other lighting. I loved going to a neighboring town and seeing the varied, colorful lights. 

I also savored traveling to Memphis, at least some Christmases, to see my Irish-American grandmother. The lights of the big city, even when it was not the holiday season, fascinated me, as we drive up old Highway 78 and it turned into neon-lit Lamar Avenue in Memphis. Daddy later told me I called those luminaries “jumping lights.” Even as an adult, more than one lady I squired asked for me to take her for a drive in our more affluent suburbs to see the Christmas lights. I gave out a masculine grunt or two, but in my heart of hearts, I liked the lights.

Then, the lights went out.

I lost both of my parents at a relatively early age, and my Christmas spirit dimmed a bit. Then two years ago, my wife died, just before Thanksgiving, and the lights went out. It was not a perfect marriage, and much of the problem lay with me – but she was a soulmate, a beautiful lady inside as well as on the surface. We talked of retirement together, perhaps in the mountains we both cherished – Smokiest, Ozarks, or the majestic Rockies where we had vacationed together. 

Grief is sometimes defined as the loss of dreams. And I felt that. I went through depressed, lonely periods and tried to be an agnostic. But God wouldn’t give up on me. As Christ told of leaving the 99 sheep in the fold to find the lost lamb, the Holy Spirit kept sneaking up on me, almost like a stray puppy hoping you’ll acknowledgeand feed him. I don’t like comparing our Lord of Lords to a stray pup; it was I who was the one who was astray, wandering for a tidbit of faith.

I would like to tie this story up like a neat Christmas package by saying I found my way back that yuletide…but that’s not true. Some great theologian said that true Faith is like a candle’s light – the flame may die, but the ember is not extinguished if one has embraced God’s sweet salvation. That winter I had but the tiniest of embers – as I’ve experienced in other times in my life. But, in time, the Gospel of John had avoice shouting in my ear – not the small, still voice God most often uses on us – but a loud Word I needed.John 1:5 has perhaps become my favorite verse: “The light shines in darkness and the darkness has not overcome it…”

As scripture tells us, even the tiniest light means that there is not total darkness. So it has been with me. The small ember has gradually become a bright burning light, again. I have come to realize, my God has more plans for me…great plans. Through the winters of grief, I am seeing the Light once again. It’s not always easy or clear – I’ll be bluntly honest – but the Light is there. Praise God for the Light.

My daddy was right all along. Amid the darkness, a candle can shine more brightly than any choreographed, fancy lights. God’s candle never goes out, and I am so grateful to be saved by it.

Last man in the boat (Luke 5:9)

For amazement had seized him and all his companions because of the catch of fish which they had taken; (Luke 5:9 NASB)

Seized by amazement! That's pretty surprised, isn't it? Simon Peter was seized by amazement because of the boat-sinking catch, but all his companions were also seized by amazement. Note the word ALL. It does not mean some of his companions were amazed, it means every single man present that day was seized by amazement at the work of Jesus.  That immobilizing astonishment made all the extra work well worth it, didn't it?  I imagine those men spent the rest of their lives telling about that astonishing morning.

It makes me want to be where Jesus is at work, just in case He does a big and flashy miracle, doesn't it you?  The big catch seems impossible, but what is even more impossible, even more astonishing, is when the Spirit of God catches the heart of a man and utterly transforms him. That IS impossible without divine intervention. 

There is one more point we need to see. Those companions were merely bystanders to the action. They entered in only at Simon's request, and after the miracle was over except for the receiving. Nevertheless, they received equal astonishment, equal blessing with Simon, who was there at the start. Even the last man in the boat received the wonder and gifts of Christ in full measure. I don't know about you, but that is incredibly encouraging to me. 

Pray today that we and our loved ones will position ourselves in such a way that, like those companions, we will find ourselves astonished by what God does without our help and when and where we least expect it. Take heart in the full-measure blessing those last-in-the-boat companions received. 

Open Hands

A friend of mine stopped by recently with a wonderful gift. These open hands, she said, were a reminder to hold everything loosely, with open hands. 

That's the way we are supposed to come to God, isn't it?  When our hands are clenched, we are not only unable to release that to which we cling, but we are also unable to freely receive from God. The releasing and receiving are intricately interwoven. 

A beautifully written prayer card was nestled in the palms of the hands. 

"My Lord and My God - 

Take from my hand everything that distances me from You.

Put into my hand everything that brings me closer to You. 

I lift up my hands to You, 

That I may give my all to You."

What is it that distances you from God?  Perhaps it's time to loosen your grip, open your hands, and allow God to have it. What joy awaits when you willingly close the gap between you and our Lord! 

Seeing our sinfulness (Luke 5:8)

But when Simon Peter saw that, he fell down at Jesus' feet, saying, "Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!" (Luke 5:8 NASB)

Finally, Simon got it! He not only recognized Jesus as Lord, he recognized himself as a sinner. The word he used here, hamartōlos, is a Greek word that means more than just "I have sinned a time or two". It is used here to mean "I am devoted to sinning" or "I am preeminently a sinner".  Simon Peter recognized that the holiness of God and the sinfulness of man cannot comfortably coexist. 

We don't want to see ourselves as thoroughly sinful, but when we do, our tendency is to run away from God rather than toward Him. Seeing ourselves as a sinner in the presence of the holy, righteous God is a terrifying place to be. We know so much of mercy and grace these days, that we've forgotten that truth, but in the presence of the flesh and blood, wonder-working Jesus, that reality slapped Simon in the face. 

Isn't it wonderful that, when our response to Jesus, on seeing our sinfulness, is "Go away from me, Lord," His response to us is, "No. You come here to Me"?  Simon's first thought was not purification, it was escape. Jesus was on a mission of cleansing, however, and with it, He brought the beginning of transformation in Simon Peter's life. 

That's what He would like to do in our lives, and the lives of our loved ones.  Today, pray for the awareness of our individual sinfulness, our hamartōlos, to be so profound that it drives us and our loved ones to our knees before the Holy One. Pray, too, that we will embrace the purification and transformation that Jesus longs to bring. 

The Unnecessary Burden

Maggie the Wonder Dog curls up on the foot of my bed and snoozes away at night. Mornings are not her favorite (unless it's "Camp Tupelo" day), so she generally sleeps through my 5:00 am trip to the barn to feed the horses. By 5:30, she is usually ready for some snuggle time while I have quiet time. This morning, I patted my lap and invited her up, just like always. Today, however, Maggie started up, looked distressed, and sat back down.  I invited her again, and she very slowly struggled to my lap. Her delay was so unusual that I took a closer look.  Maggie's collar had somehow gotten caught in the edge of a decorative pillow and she couldn't get loose. Rather than whimper and let me know she needed help with her problem, she had opted to drag the pillow along. She was keeping her burden all to herself. How silly, and how unnecessary! I had her unhooked in a few seconds and she was soon snuggling to her heart's content.

Maggie's not the only one who drags around unnecessary burdens, is she? We all have a tendency to hang on to hurts, embrace unforgiveness or bitterness, and drag it around for years. We worry about finances, health, the future, and haul those burdens around like a ball and chain from which there is no escape. How silly and unnecessary!  Relief is available to us from the One who daily bears our burdens. He's carrying them anyway. Why would we try to carry them, too?  

Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden, The God who is our salvation. Selah. (Psalms 68:19 NASB)

This evening would be a good time to look at the burdens you carry. Are they necessary or do they belong in the capable hands of God?

Selah. 

Think about that for a while.  Think about it, then place those burdens right where they belong.  

Merry Christmas!