Unexpected Love

This will be a sign for you: You will find a baby wrapped in clothes

                                                                                            and lying in a manger.

                                                                                                            Luke 2:12

    I've been practicing this song to sing for the Christmas Eve service. After practicing it 4 times a day for 3 weeks straight, a line in the second verse kept coming to me in the middle of everyday moments -

      "Did You wrap yourself inside the unexpected
           so that we might know that Love would go that far..."* 

    Every Christmas we contemplate the baby in the manger, born with the barn animals, because there was no room for Him in any inn. Definitely an unexpected place for the Savior of the world, the King of Kings, the Great High Priest to make his appearance. But was there a purpose in this unexpected arrival. Of course. God's language is prophecy, so it's cool that he speaks to us not only in words, but in places, in people, in the monotonous scenery of life around us. 
   Christ Jesus came into the world, wrapped in strips of cloth, lying in a bed of straw. Christ Jesus brought life to the world, wrapped in cloth and lying in a tomb. Did Christ come in such a humble way so we would know where to look for him in the end? 

         "Did You wrap yourself inside the unexpected
              so that we might know that Love would go that far..." 


     I was struck by the song lyric because it reminded me of the obvious in a newfound way. Love really does go that far. Love comes to the manger to point to the cross. I'm so thankful for God's love for me, that comes to my ordinary life, my monotonous day, and wraps itself around me, sets me Free and forgiven, and treasures me as a gift. 
      I'm going to start looking for God in the unexpected. I'm going to look up Ezra and see what God has to say. I'm going to look around me in the supermarket to see who could use some encouragement. I'm going to travel 1,600 miles to share His love with women I would never get to share with otherwise.
      Why am I always surprised when God does the unexpected...It seems to be His language anyway. 

Thank you, Lord, for Christ. Thank you for being You.

 Merry Christmas!

*excerpt of song from Francesca Battistelli's, "Born in Me",  
I believe originally released for the Music Inspired by the Story album (one of my favorites!)
      

Always winter and never Christmas

This is why I speak to them in parables:

            Though seeing, they do not see;
            Though hearing, they do not hear or understand.
                                                       Matthew 12:13

      Our family recently read the entire set of the Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis. Obviously the writing is beautiful, but I was astounded by how touched I was by the message. I knew that they were written in order for children to understand the Good News, but sometimes the nuances of the message were so well woven into the story that I would find tears on my face before I understood what I was crying about. C.S. Lewis is, unarguably, a genius storyteller, but the story touches your heart not because of his literary prowess, but because of the redemption inside of the words.
   
       Always winter, but never Christmas...
     Can we even imagine? The creatures of Narnia are trapped in a land covered with snow and ice, but it's not the cold and the chill that surrounds them that is so devastating...it's living in a place where joy is forbidden, distrust and shame are dominate, and living in the absence of hope.
     Can we imagine? For the children it's basic. Who would ever want to live in a land with perpetual winter, but never any joy of Christmas?
     When I first started contemplating this, I considered all those in Haiti and throughout the world trapped in the darkness of false religion. It is true and worthy of contemplation that there really are people in the world lost to Christ because they have been fed lies of a false god. My heart morns for them. In Haiti, the culture of voodoo is evident. The false god has a face, it is, for the most part blatantly recognizable. 
    Around here, though, in the U.S. our false gods don't have a face. The lies are hidden, maybe difficult to recognize at times, but are just as dark and icy. We're lost in a sea of stuff and activity. We worry about a beautiful tree, perfect presents for our kids, or making sure we fill our calendar with enough celebratory madness to fill the void. And sometimes life just feels like winter. It's dark and cold. It seems the sun will never come out and shine. It holds the edge of loneliness, or sorrow, or bitterness, or pain, or frustration. And instead of turning to Christ, we turn to what is immediately avaiable. For all our decorations and jovial festivities, how often have we lost Christmas itself and settled for winter?

   Always Christmas...
   But, Christ came to us, and brought Christmas. Praise the Lord!!!  Do you know someone who needs to know that real joy and hope are alive and well? Do you need to know it? Christmas is here. Each day. Sing for Joy. Winter may still be around us, but Christmas is IN us. We will never really live in a land of perpetual ice and snow, because God has promised us better in Christ. He brought Christmas to Bethlehem long ago to each and every one of us. He will melt your ice, He lights your darkness.  

     

Why would anyone ever come here?

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us. 

          We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father full of truth and grace.

                                                             John 1:14

 

Our plane coasted high above the beautiful mountains of Haiti and each of us anticipated what the week ahead would be like. Leaning toward the window, I got my first glimpse of Port-Au-Prince, and was startled to find tears already rolling down my face. I knew it was coming, but looking down at home after home after home made from pieces of tarp, cardboard, maybe corrugated metal, worn with weather. That was not something I could prepare myself for, no matter how many magazine pictures I'd seen or even other locations I had traveled. There is something about poverty; physical, aching poverty, that takes your breath away.

Two days later I looked around me and noticed Madalyn, one of our team members, and one of my very favorite people. She had a look of deep sadness, something that doesn't usually match well with her energetic and willing spirit. I took hold of an opportunity later that evening and asked, "Are you ok?" Madalyn's words were still and quiet,
             "Why would anyone ever come here?"

I was so surprised by the richness and contemplation coming out of her teenage mouth, and the gravity of her words, I was speechless. I took her hand. Finally I responded with the only answer I could think of, 
               "What if we didn't? What if we stayed home."  

   Two weeks ago it struck me again...

              "Why would anyone ever come here?"

What we see when we see the desolation of poverty is simply us seeing with eyes wide open by Christ. When the Father sent Christ to Earth, the Word made flesh, He came from all glory in Heaven to our little hovel on Earth. He came to our impoverished land, our desolate souls, to redeem all of it. 

             "Why would anyone ever come here?"

Christ came, because of Love, because of Grace, because of Hope. He came because He is Love, He is Grace, He is Hope. 

        What if He didn't, what if He would have stayed home?

And so we don't...we go into the world. A light shining in the darkness, and the darkness can not overcome Him.

Madalyn came to love the people of Haiti, and the land of Haiti. I did too. How can you not? But in sharing the experience, she gave me the opportunity to see the Light shining in my dark world.
   

  

 

It's only a mountain...

He said to them, "Because of your little faith." If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain,

       'Move from here to there,' and it will move,

               and nothing will be impossible for you.

                                                                     Matthew 17:20

 

      So, now we are in the heart of making our plans for Haiti. I filled out and printed off forms for the children's passports. I took Zeke to the doctor for various immunizations.  I typed up a letter to send to churches seeking support.
      
       The problem was each of these things was an epic fail. I couldn't get the passports done because the hours at the office were from 8:30-10:30am and then 2-4pm. I showed up at 11:30am, all four kids in tow. I couldn't get the immunizations done because Zeke's tantrum was so huge that I left the office crying. I couldn't send out the letters because there were just too many blanks yet to fill in.
       
       It was the last one that really got me going. Anxiety. Questions. "Are you sure, Lord, this is really what you want? Where am I supposed to get all this money from?Am I reading you right? Am I just wrong about the entire thing?"
      
        I sulked around for a good 4 days, until I spilled it to Dave. The words that came out were
  
        "Why is this so hard?"

     and even while I was saying it, I knew it was ridiculous. 
          
     Why do I doubt what God wants, just because it isn't easy? Why do I try to solve my earthly problems with earthly solutions, when I have a savior waiting with heavenly ones? Why do I try to climb mountains, that are just meant to be moved?

     Dave told our friend, Julie, that we were struggling with the financial aspects of our time in Haiti. Julie, in all her wisdom, responded back in sarcasm, "Yeah, because that sounds like something God can't do."

        
       We all have mountains in life. I'm sure you have yours. Are you struggling with one now?  
         
       Sometimes we are meant to climb them, we learn and we grow from perils and work, and trial, we get to the top and praise the Lord. Sometimes, though, I think those mountains were just meant to be moved. God is gracious, He is faithful, He is merciful, but He is also Mighty, and Strong, and really does hold the world in His hand.
     
         So, here you go, Lord. Here's my mountain. I'm telling it to move. 

Cliff diving...

When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his outer garment, for he was stripped for work, and threw himself into the sea.

                                                                                                John 21:7

   

Cliff diving has never been on the top of my to-do list. Diving has never been on the top of my to-do list. Cliff jumping, that's a stretch even. 

So, when we were offered to ford a river, drive up a mountain, and hike in the forest, I'm all- "sure!" But when standing on the precipice of a big round rock looking down into the ridiculously deep waters of Bassin-Bleu, I panicked. Not so much visually, shaking and crying and such, but you know the feeling. I froze. I made up questions about the pretty blue water and the visitors around me. I let other people take their turn and jump in ahead of me. I stood pretending to gaze at the glorious, cloudless sky. Anything, to put off jumping off that rock and into the water..

Jen came up beside me and said, "Let's do it! Let's jump in." We counted to 3 and we jumped. It wasn't hard. I didn't drown. The water was the first cool thing I had touched in 6 days and it felt amazing. Spine tingling.  

We all have our own rocks. The places we stand...watching...pretending it's not quite time yet.

When will it be time? Sometimes, we just need to jump in, fully clothed, and stop thinking about it.  

Peter jumped in the sea because he had heard John say, "It is the Lord!" 5 seconds before that, they thought it was just some random guy standing on the shore. But "It's the Lord" made Peter a different man- a jumper. 

So we jump. How much easier it should be when we know who we're jumping in for? 

Who cares how deep the water is when someone yells, "It is the Lord!" 

There are times that call for thinking and pondering, but there are definitely times when Christ stands on our shore and all we can do is throw ourselves in.

When has God called you to jump?

A chip in my cup...

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.               

                                                          2 Corinthians 12:9

    

      This morning I sat down with my coffee, peering out over the field at the beautiful morning. I was dismayed, as I took my next sip...

I had the chipped mug. Arg. 

       You see, a couple of years ago we bought these beautiful orange coffee mugs. They almost look like shades of fire on the outsides of the mugs, and they instantly make you feel both cosmopolitan and cozy, all at the same time. Several months ago, however, one of the mugs got a little chip in the rim. Dave gently replaced the chip back in its spot, using a little dab of super glue. He noticed that the chip was a little off, not quit in the right spot, but (super bummer) it dried in a nanosecond and could not be moved again. The dreaded mug sat in the back of the cupboard and no one wanted to use it. When friends came over and we needed the extra mug, Dave, being the gracious husband that he is, quietly and voluntarily used the chipped mug, knowing I wouldn't want anyone else to have it. 

    This morning, the chipped mug made it's way to my table, and reminded my heart of something else. 

• There are a ton of people in this world that would be happy to have a mug, be it chipped or cracked, just a useable, nevermind beautiful, mug. My mug wasn't just useable, it was full. Praise be to God. My mug is full. May He fill all the mugs across the world today somehow. Please, Lord, please. 

   

  

Also...

• My chipped mug is the best mug. Why? Because what in this world is not chipped. What isn't broken? So often in our lives we spend so much time avoiding the chipped cup, avoiding our true selves, so we aren't disappointed with what we see. But the truth is, we are all chipped. This world is not perfect, neither am I. But there is one who is. Jesus not only fills my cup, but he IS my cup. Because of Him, I am made new. My weakness is strength. I have life and a purpose. May He be what people see in this earthen vessel, all that He is...forgiveness, mercy, justice, love.

      My mug will never be perfect, but neither will I, this side of heaven. Christ is, though. That's what matters. 

 

       I think I'll use that cup. I need a reminder of all I have to be thankful for, and who I am in Christ. And may I, this time next year, be sitting in Haiti, looking out over a field, ready to go and fill even just one mug that day, of someone else who needs to be filled.

Always an adventure...

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. 

           Proverbs 16:9

    There are so many courses that each of us could take in life. I can't count the number of times I thought I would take one path and God directed me toward another. The good news was and is...God's path is always better. 
      And so we step out... out of our comfort zone, out of the familiar, out of the "sensible" even, to follow where ever that path leads.
    And so our journey has taken a turn. Next year for approximately 8 months we will live and serve in Jacmel, Haiti. 
    Why? 
    Well, there's all the practical reasons - I will have the privilege of completing my graduate degree in social work. I get to spend 8 months assessing, planning, and guiding women's sustainable development programs, counseling programs, and marriage and parenting programs, with the Lutheran Church of Haiti. The kids get to experience a new culture and learn things I can never teach them. Dave and I will have the opportunity to minister to people who have so little, the least we can give them is ourselves. 
   But...the most important factor is God's call in our lives. That's it. We simply feel called to go. The Spirit spoke in the quiet places of both my heart and Dave's, and so we go. 
   
Sometimes, although you may have 12 reasons to go and do, the only one that really matters is that God has called you.