Advent 5: The Deep Mundane

Boredom.

You know how it sneaks up on you? You're just doing your thing,
living your life, and then one day you wake up and realize:
Good night, I am so bored.

I've never been a routine kind of girl, or one to have a small bit on my plate. But steadily over the past year or so, God has been saying:
Make space girl--make space. And so I have, until I find every day is just routine, and my mind is unengaged.

I sit in my office and direct the staff, I proofread the texts, deliver the emails, count the RSVPs, re-check the budgets. I leave and welcome piano babies into my home, and we make the music and we learn where Middle C lives (and sometimes even Treble G!).
And then I make some food because a person has to eat,
and before I know it, it's time to sleep.

The next day it happens again. And again. And again.

You see my point.

Yesterday I looked Him in the face and I said:
Do you see me down here?! I am shriveling.
He looked me right back and said: Do you see Me?
And then: If I cannot trust you with the mundane things,
I will not trust you with My Greater Things.

To which I said: Oh.

And got back on my face before Him.

But then this morning a thought winged through my mind in response to another, what one might call a "lesson" except that it's a lesson I have learned at least 3 times before. This time it just sat there as a "right, I already know that."

I said to Him: I blogged about that three years ago.
You really need to get more current.

I said to Him: I am a learner...I need to learn things. 
Do you see me down here I am SHRIVELING.

But then He pointed to the layers of learning, the fact that I need lessons to repeat again and again until they root themselves in the deep place. The place of this-that-wasn't-is-now-my-normal.
And perhaps I should be grateful?

And then He reminded me of all the persons I will sit with today, to whom I will listen. He showed me the hearts of dear ones, struggling. He reminded me of the piano babies, curled up in my chair, reading a book as they wait for their turn. And He showed me the face of another, the one for whom He came as babe and died as man and reigns as victorious King. And He said: Do you see them?

And I got back on my face.

Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.

See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you
and his glory appears over you.
Nations will come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn.

[Isaiah 60]

Advent 4: To seek humility

My day began as it typically does, a mug of warmth in my hand and my hood slugged over my chilled head. I sat at my table, about to do some worship planning/devotional writing, when I received a text from a friend. Wending its way into the early hour darkness, it said: 

Can you talk?

I left my table for my chair and texted back: Sure.

We talked ugly words like "submission" "obedience" "humility".

We talked of our inclination toward self-pity, the holding onto self by holding onto pain. How we rationalize with our minds and choose against the healing of our hearts.

Soon enough I left the chair as the curtain lifted from night to day, 

but soon enough I found--

I could not leave the conversation behind.

This is a season of on-my-face before the Lord, uncovering the deepest place I've ever seen of me saying no, of me protecting me. I say "I do not want to be hard-hearted!" but hard-hearted is what I see. I say "I do not want to turn away!" but turn away is what I do. 

He kneels on the ground, a humble diligent King, and shows me how much it hurts Him, when I reject His way.

He holds before me the face of another, the one for whom He came as babe and died as man and reigns as victorious King.

And He asks me now to lay down my life, beyond the maximum I think He has already asked. Every bit I'd call my rightful own, He says belongs to Him. 

I flounder, I shake, I shut down. I call to Him though; I want His say.

He promises I will see Him, when I join Him.

And in my fear, my unbelief, He reminds me: 

He is the One who made the way.

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!

Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!

Behold, your king is coming to you;

righteous and having salvation is he,

humble and mounted on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

[Zechariah 9:9]

Soon enough I leave my self-righteous throne;

I come to Bethlehem,

and see.

Advent 3: When there are leftovers, party more.

6 On Herod’s birthday the daughter of Herodias danced for the guests and pleased Herod so much 7 that he promised with an oath to give her whatever she asked. 8 Prompted by her mother, she said, “Give me here on a platter the head of John the Baptist.” 9 The king was distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he ordered that her request be granted 10 and had John beheaded in the prison. 11 His head was brought in on a platter and given to the girl, who carried it to her mother. 12 John’s disciples came and took his body and buried it. Then they went and told Jesus.

Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand
13 When Jesus heard what had happened, he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns.14 When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

15 As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”

16 Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”

17 “We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.

18 “Bring them here to me,” he said. 19 And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. 20 They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.21 The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children.

[Matthew 14]

Advent 2: Cottage Parties fill me with Joy

I love the quiet anticipation,

the peaceful praying in the preparation,

the taking what I have

and creating something new,

the something beautiful 

for my loved ones to be blessed by.

I love the gathering up of gifts given me over many years,

and setting them out with care.

I love spreading out the goodies,

and love it when my guests begin to arrive.

This year I decided to support a new friend,

and loved it as she set up her goods

with applicable party games,

loved the prizes and mingling 

and laughter and fun it brought to us.

And then I loved listening as my dear ones met together,

eating and laughing

and sharing their thoughts.

Bringing us all to Life,

cottage parties just fill me with Joy.

~~

The only thing I know about the Second Coming is that it is going to happen because of God's love. God made the universe out of love; the Word shouted all things joyfully into being because of love. The Second Coming, whenever it happens and whatever it means, will also be because of love.

~M. L'Engle, Time and Space Turned Upside Down

Advent 1: These are listening times

As we move into Advent we are called to listen...
Waiting for birth, waiting for death--these are listening times.

Advent is not a time to declare, but to listen, 

to listen to whatever God may want to tell us
through the singing of the stars,

the quickening of a baby, the gallantry of a dying man.

Listen. Quietly. Humbly. Without arrogance.

It is only after we have been enabled to say,
"Be it unto me according to your Word,"
that we can accept the paradoxes of Christianity.

Christ comes to live with us,
bringing an incredible promise of God's love,

but never are we promised that there will be no pain,
no suffering, no death,

but rather that these very griefs
are the road to love and eternal life.

In Advent we prepare for the coming of all Love,

that love which will redeem all the brokenness, wrongness,

hardnesses of heart which have afflicted us.

~from M. L'Engle,
Redeeming All Brokenness

Time to Change the Cottage Seasons

Thanksgiving might be over and Christmas smack upon us,

but I will never stop giving thanks for the magic of this place.

Thanksgivingness, More

The next morning, 

we hung out in our pajamas,

as this boy chattered away,

telling us everything he knew about his family.

He had special words for Grandpa

(his most favorite friend)

with a few left over for the rest of us.

Then, there were showers and departures,

and girl-time in our favorite kind of place,

plus a chic-flick in our local theater.

Then there was time to check in on Grandma,

and sweet moments to think on this woman who raised us,

her strength belied by frailty of bone and muscle.

Then, leftovers for dinner,

and games,

in the cozy aftermath of all there is to be thankful for.