Was I Dreaming?

Was I dreaming yesterday afternoon...

...or did I really sit in a peaceful livingroom, just me by myself, rocking my grandson, on a White Christmas Day, watching snow fall, listening to Bing Crosby's "Adeste Fideles"?

...did I really wake up to this?




...and then this?


(little Timothy's "My First Christmas" hat and pj's, from yours truly...)


...did I actually hear that my oldest son has been promoted to Squad Leader?


...did my Main Squeeze really get me the one present I specifically asked for?

(A Fisher-Price Nativity Set) all my "babies" will play with this, every Christmas, at Mimi's house, forever and ever, Amen.


...and a necklace, with my grandson's birthstone, the back engraved with these words: "To The Most Beautiful Grandmother Ever"...was that me, or was I dreaming?


Did I really, really receive a big Jonathan Howe Original? Not a print...an original? Not a "little one"...a big one? Someone pinch me.







And did I really get all those emails and phone calls from friends, just to wish us "Merry Christmas"?
How many times on this blog have I said it? I am living a dream I do not deserve. After weathering the worst, vindication comes in the form of receiving His Best. He giveth more grace.

When the LORD brought back the captivity of Zion, We were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, And our tongue with singing. Then they said among the nations, "The LORD has done great things for them."

The LORD has done great things for us, And we are glad.
(Psalm 126)

God Rest Ye Merry!

(my front door - come on in!)

I've always wanted to greet people I care about in this way at Christmas time: "God rest ye merry, my friend."

For many years, I never understood that old carol, "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen". It originates all the way back to the middle ages, and was written in old English. In those days, "merry" didn't mean "happy" as it does now. In those days, "merry" meant "mighty". A great and powerful king was a "merry" king, and a great and terrible army was a "merry" army.


"Rest" didn't mean to put your feet up, nor did it mean that you took a nap. "Rest" meant, in old English, "to keep in a continual state of".


"God keep you in a continual state of might and strength, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas day, to save us all from satan's power when we had gone astray.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy! Comfort and joy! Oh tidings of comfort and joy!"

This Christmas, I've been smitten over and over with the simple statement of a great heavenly host. There...filling the heavens...Jehovah Sabaoth, Lord of the Hosts, sent His great host to break centuries and centuries of silence between God and men. God could have commissioned them to say anything. These ministers of His, this great, innumerable host, are as flames of fire, carrying out His Word, down to the smallest detail. They've declared war before, down throughout human history - lots of times.

Would this be that sort of message?

God could have instructed His hosts to give only the facts: "Messiah is here."

He could have sent a message of judgement.

God dropped a bomb, to be sure. He dropped a bomb that would forever make that field in Bethlehem the greatest, most utterly meaningful, most famous "ground zero" of all time. But it was an explosion of joy.

The Grace Message was finally detonated.

A blast of mercy, engulfing the planet. Into the black of the night, into the darkness of our human spirit, came the bright light of Good News. It was tidings of comfort and joy. Jehovah Sabaoth utilized His great host, He sent the mightiest, "merriest" troops in the universe to tell us, "YEAY!" and to promptly throw a party amongst the stars, in full view of a few shepherds.

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, Peace....Goodwill....to men."

Peace.

Goodwill.

Let it sink in. Let those two words be the good news they were meant to be. Your very own tidings of comfort and joy.

Merry Christmas, dear ones. God rest ye merry...

How 'Bout YOU Do It?

Interesting experience, I had today. Navigating the crowded parking lots of Knoxville, I pushed my brimming grocery cart to my car, unloaded its contents, and turned to push it all the way back to the area where carts are Supposed To Be. I was feeling a bit virtuous about it. Then, I happened to spy a lone cart. This cart had been left, in the middle of the parking lot, smack dab behind someone's car. For that car to get out of its parking space, the driver would have to move that grocery cart (left by some other rude stranger) out of the way.

I shook my head slightly, and I'm pretty sure I made one of those "tsk tsk" sounds. "People these days."

...and walked right by.

Immediately, I realized that I was just as guilty as the person who left their cart standing in a rude place. I went back, just three steps, and got that cart, put it together with mine, and pushed both to the store. I had almost violated the number one law of love...okay, maybe number two law of love, but it's way up there:

If you notice that a job needs doing, you are the one to do it.

To walk past it, shaking your head at the thought of the other person who was supposed to do that job, is to BE the other person who was supposed to do that job. You just became "them".

If you see it needs done...do it. Don't walk past it, and get irritated with the person who didn't do it, if you won't do it either. That would be hypocrisy at its most deceptive.

Later that day, in another store, for extra measure, just to buffet my body and just to please the Lord, I also picked up some stray trash in the women's bathrooms, and took a moment to straighten merchandise that was plundered. Nothing obsessive compulsive...just small actions to drive home to my own heart and mind the idea that the person who sees the job undone is the one in the best position to do the dang job already.

What Do You See?

"And he looked up and said, "I see men like trees, walking."
Mark 8:24

If you are still under the law, you see "men as trees walking". You've experienced the touch of Jesus, maybe even come to a saving knowlege, but you are not seeing clearly. Yet you might go years - alas, decades, thinking that you see just fine.

Then, one day, you hear the gospel preached by a pastor-teacher who is walking in a New Covenant understanding, and you realize that "seeing men as trees walking" isn't the same as seeing Jesus clearly and centrally. You have not been seeing the world as you could and should.

Does this offend you?

Let Jesus put His hands on you again, afresh. The moment you see the God of all grace, the moment your focus is on the finished work of Christ and not on your performance, you finally see everyone else clearly, and through the eyes of love. In fact, through the lens of the gospel of grace, as taught in all the New Testament, everything in all of Scripture becomes clear.

Season of Light

We're expecting a winter storm here in east Tennessee, and a White Christmas! There is a beautiful frost on the ground every morning, and all is cold and dark by 5 PM.

But! From here forward, all the way up to the summer solstice, the days will get longer and longer. Because of this, I truly view the Christmas season as being The Season of Light. I so love the Lord. Right smack dab "in the bleak midwinter", God plants the promise of light and life.

Winter never lasts forever.

Have yourselves a Merry Honking Christmas, my friends. I'm already praying about how I can be a blessing and encouragement to you in the year ahead. I want this little homey spot in the Blog World to be a place where you feel gladdened and strengthened and graced. I want this to be a place where you laugh. I want to get to know you.

Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for your feedback, via comments, private emails, and Facebook. I love that you find this blog a haven of sorts. We've seen and done a lot together this year, haven't we?

Grace and Peace...

I'm So Grateful to be Planted

Those who are planted in the house of the LORD Shall flourish in the courts of our God.They shall still bear fruit in old age; They shall be fresh and flourishing, To declare that the LORD is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him!

I may not be "old", but I'm a grandmother now, and Biblically, that gives me a right to open my mouth and speak the word of the Lord. I'll never forget, shortly after Hannah discovered she was pregnant, the Holy Spirit spoke to me clearly and succinctly, and said, "You are now that older woman." (..."the older women should teach the younger women...")

Of course, I took that as a compliment. My self esteem is through the roof these days - because my concept of womanhood has, over a period of many years, been transformed to be more Biblical than ever. Becoming a grandparent has not diminished my sense of femininity or sensuality or joy or energy. If anything, life has gotten sweeter, and marriage more intimate and fulfilling - and believe me, it has always been good, if hard at times. So to be able to say that marriage is better and sweeter is saying something quite nice.

Physically, I feel as young as ever. I'm in great health. And I admit to the gift of good genes - my own mother does not at all show her age. Spiritually, there's a good bit of miles on the motor, as I've walked and talked with the God of all grace for 38 years now. I'm bearing fruit in my old(ish) age.

I'm flourishing, because I am planted. But I'm not just planted any-old-where. I'm planted in the local church. I've built a grace-bridge to the people I love in my local church...and it will never be burned by my hands. I can't be a blessing, or build a bridge to the church universal...I want to see you try to "bear the burdens" of the "church universal", or even the "church internet". I want to see you try to "imitate the faith of those over you" when you, in fact, answer to no one in particular; or when you, in fact, don't really know those who watch over your soul.

The long and the short of it is this: you really have to be planted in the church local, in order to flourish. I find it sad when people think they are flourishing outside the church local. All it is, is they have seen a measure of success, and they think that's all there is. When there is so, so much more.

But the "more" comes at a mighty price.

Nothing...nothing matures you like right relationships. Nothing separates the precious from the worthless like gut-honest communication by flawed people, with equally flawed people. Nothing defines spiritual leadership more than the insistence on relationship as priority over moralism, nothing tests leadership more than the defense of relationships in the context of Christian community. To walk in that sort of leadership, you have to have a theological and practical understanding of the God Who Is Community.

If you are not planted, get planted. If you have broken relationships, go back and repair them with the people who count...versus attempting to re-establish communication with people you perceive as being on the peripheral. (There's something creepy about that - everyone knows.) If you were offended by the choir director, then it is the choir director you need to be emailing or calling, not the lady who takes care of the nursery. Trust me, you may not pick and choose who you will or won't get in touch with, if your real heart is to make things right. You must get in touch with the very ones you disagreed with, and if you hurt or betrayed anyone, you must get in touch with the very ones you hurt and betrayed. No one else. Not before you make things right with the people you wronged, or who wronged you. Even if that means the preacher and/or his wife. You. Go. There. First.

In painfully practical terms, being planted is a blessing....get planted. It is the only way to flourish all the way into old age. And really...is there another way to age? What is the alternative? Otherwise, you slowly wither and petrify and become stale, jaded, stilted, petty and comical, alone and a loner, bored and boring.

Ain't no way to live.

And now, back to my crazy-flourishing life...God, how I thank you for your gifts and the grace of your gifts...

Home Sweet Home

I've not a lot of words today, because there really are no words to describe. Only those who have grandchildren can possibly know.

The grandson came home from the hospital shortly after noon today. When I heard they were on their way, I fairly floated through the house, switching on the lights on the trees (yes, plural), turning on the Christmas music, making sure the outdoor speakers were working, just so that the new little family would hear Christmas tunes as soon as they got out of their car and onto the front porch. I turned on the space heater in the nursery, tied the "It's a boy!" balloon to the mailbox, wrote "WELCOME HOME" on the front storm door with window paint, and wished I had a long length of red carpet to unroll, reaching from the front door, down the driveway. Alas...red carpet was the only thing I was missing.

I thank you for the grace you extend me, allowing me to share the moment with you!



Proud Papa Justin with his wittle man...

Wittle man in his wittle Pooh Bear hat...


But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children's children...

~Ps. 103:17