So, how are the New Year's Resolutions going? Sometimes nothing more than a to-do list for the first week of January, New Year's Resolutions are easy to make and easy to break. I looked back over my blog and last year I had 'intentions' rather than resolutions. I intended to embrace every opportunity that came my way in 2011 and be kind to people as a precursor to love.
So, for 2012, I'm not changing my intentions, they're just going to be suped up.
There'll be no 'keeping-this-for-a-special-occasion'. With freedom I will wallow in spa bath oils in our huge jacuzzi tub; post-detox the best wine will be served on a Wednesday night; all the UK chocolate will be nibbled with pleasure on daily, sometimes hourly, basis; and those beautiful cards will be sent just to say Hello! There will be no hoarding in 2012. There'll be no waiting till tomorrow to show compassion, share an encouraging word or tell anyone I love them - especially the Beloved. Every opportunity will be grasped with abandon and decorated with fabulous jewellery!
I'm still going to seek to be kind, but this year, I must decrease and He, Jesus, must increase. Then love becomes my currency of choice. Oh, that 2012 would be the year that my sought after accolade of 'indiscriminate lover' would be reached.
We all know we get one stab at life, it's not just a run-through. So let's fly 2012 like we stole it - with squealing delight and loving abandon.
Thursday, 5 January 2012
Friday, 30 December 2011
12 Days?
So, was it all you expected? Did the reindeer fly the big guy in with the right present? Did you eat before, during and after the Queen (insert culturally appropriate highlight of Christmas Day)? Were you overly familiar with the sherry and port? I'm not going to ask about the family ... this isn't Jerry Springer.
I actually think that Christmas gets a bit of a raw deal. It must be really annoying to have all these people waiting for you to come, longing for you to hurry up ... then in a measly 24 hours you're over. A 'has been' for another year. Valentines gifts are already in the shops and it'll not be long till Lent - Ash Wednesday is on 22nd February, Easter is early this year you know.
We make all this fuss about Christmas and let be all over in a day, totally forgetting about the 12 days of Christmas, 26th December - 6th January. As one who enjoys merry-making - I think we should all embrace the full experience of Christmas - in as far as our employment allow us!!
Now the famous song (the tune of which has undoubtedly is floating around in your head since the start of the last paragraph) was first published in London in 1780, in a book called "Mirth without Mischief". It is a tall tale of increasingly extravagant presents from one's true love. I wonder what it would be like to see the 12 days of Christmas as a chance to consider, in ever-increasing magnitude, the extravagance of God's love for us as revealed in Emmanuel.
Perhaps it could sound something like this...
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a Saviour who is Christ the King
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, mercy and grace
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, forgiveness for sin
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, hope not despair
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a golden royal crown
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, joyfulness and gladness
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a friend in my messes
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a wounded willing healer
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, royal family status
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, lots of brothers and sisters
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, heaven's storehouse for provision
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, life in its fullness
So, let's not rush through Christmas ... rather let us ponder like Mary, marvel like the Shepherds, adore like the Wise Men and worship like the Heavenly Host; he who is the Word made flesh.
I actually think that Christmas gets a bit of a raw deal. It must be really annoying to have all these people waiting for you to come, longing for you to hurry up ... then in a measly 24 hours you're over. A 'has been' for another year. Valentines gifts are already in the shops and it'll not be long till Lent - Ash Wednesday is on 22nd February, Easter is early this year you know.
We make all this fuss about Christmas and let be all over in a day, totally forgetting about the 12 days of Christmas, 26th December - 6th January. As one who enjoys merry-making - I think we should all embrace the full experience of Christmas - in as far as our employment allow us!!
Now the famous song (the tune of which has undoubtedly is floating around in your head since the start of the last paragraph) was first published in London in 1780, in a book called "Mirth without Mischief". It is a tall tale of increasingly extravagant presents from one's true love. I wonder what it would be like to see the 12 days of Christmas as a chance to consider, in ever-increasing magnitude, the extravagance of God's love for us as revealed in Emmanuel.
Perhaps it could sound something like this...
On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a Saviour who is Christ the King
On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me, mercy and grace
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, forgiveness for sin
On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, hope not despair
On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a golden royal crown
On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, joyfulness and gladness
On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a friend in my messes
On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, a wounded willing healer
On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, royal family status
On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, lots of brothers and sisters
On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me, heaven's storehouse for provision
On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, life in its fullness
So, let's not rush through Christmas ... rather let us ponder like Mary, marvel like the Shepherds, adore like the Wise Men and worship like the Heavenly Host; he who is the Word made flesh.
Saturday, 10 December 2011
Waiting
Frazer, the tree, is dressed to the nines, the poinsettia create a carpet of velvety leafs in the lounge, and cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves scent the backdrop for cheesy warbling by Buble and The Pogues. Yep, it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's Advent. The season of waiting.
It's funny how we all have a heightened sense of expectation in the run up to Christmas. We're getting ready to see family and all the unique dynamics that can bring! We're hopeful that we give and get just the right presents. The food mountain stacks up just in case we have one hour without eating over the holidays.
Each day we indulge in the thrill of opening the Advent Calender - which is more about the morsel of chocolate than the knowledge that we're one day closer to Christmas. I don't know about you, but I'm so easily distracted - waiting for this, hoping for that, desiring the other...
It's a challenge to keep perspective and to keep the main thing, the main thing.
I have family and friends to buy presents for. I've a home, clothes on my back and more than ample food on the table. I am blessed to feel love, acceptance and belonging because I'm me not because of what I do, what I've achieved, how much money I have, who I know. What else could I want?
Globally, 2011 has not been an easy year. Social revolution, continued and newly started wars, economic devastation in the wake of affluent extravagance; this year ends with so many without safety, shelter, health, food, belonging, love. In the 'rich' West more people will be availing of charitable donations of food than before and homeless shelters bulge at the seams.
Our church meets in a homeless shelter for men. I was watching a couple of the men praying the other night and God showed me my own life and heart. I lack no good thing. But these two precious men have no home, little money, fractured families, few friends. Knowing a little of the stories of men in the shelter, it is but for the grace of God go I.
Yet, you'd think all I have was by my own acquisition and keeping it was thanks solely to my own stewardship - so I get to judge who is worthy, deserving of my charity. That's a great untruth. We're all supposed to be in this adventure called life together. We're not lone rangers, we're made for each other.
What would happen if one who has much were to give gladly to one who has little, no strings or conditions attached? What would that do to the economics of safety, shelter, health, food, belonging, and love?
Advent is a waiting for Christmas - the great gift comes, Emmanuel, God with us. Christ sets himself aside and becomes a man. He holds nothing back. Those of us who seek to follow of Jesus are called to do the same. We must set ourselves aside, enter into the life of the other, and hold nothing back.
Our waiting will soon be over. Christmas will come and with it the celebration of life dramatically changed by the arrival of the Christ-child. Let's not leave the aching, weeping world waiting for another year to see Jesus.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's Advent. The season of waiting.
It's funny how we all have a heightened sense of expectation in the run up to Christmas. We're getting ready to see family and all the unique dynamics that can bring! We're hopeful that we give and get just the right presents. The food mountain stacks up just in case we have one hour without eating over the holidays.
Each day we indulge in the thrill of opening the Advent Calender - which is more about the morsel of chocolate than the knowledge that we're one day closer to Christmas. I don't know about you, but I'm so easily distracted - waiting for this, hoping for that, desiring the other...
It's a challenge to keep perspective and to keep the main thing, the main thing.
I have family and friends to buy presents for. I've a home, clothes on my back and more than ample food on the table. I am blessed to feel love, acceptance and belonging because I'm me not because of what I do, what I've achieved, how much money I have, who I know. What else could I want?
Globally, 2011 has not been an easy year. Social revolution, continued and newly started wars, economic devastation in the wake of affluent extravagance; this year ends with so many without safety, shelter, health, food, belonging, love. In the 'rich' West more people will be availing of charitable donations of food than before and homeless shelters bulge at the seams.
Our church meets in a homeless shelter for men. I was watching a couple of the men praying the other night and God showed me my own life and heart. I lack no good thing. But these two precious men have no home, little money, fractured families, few friends. Knowing a little of the stories of men in the shelter, it is but for the grace of God go I.
Yet, you'd think all I have was by my own acquisition and keeping it was thanks solely to my own stewardship - so I get to judge who is worthy, deserving of my charity. That's a great untruth. We're all supposed to be in this adventure called life together. We're not lone rangers, we're made for each other.
What would happen if one who has much were to give gladly to one who has little, no strings or conditions attached? What would that do to the economics of safety, shelter, health, food, belonging, and love?
Advent is a waiting for Christmas - the great gift comes, Emmanuel, God with us. Christ sets himself aside and becomes a man. He holds nothing back. Those of us who seek to follow of Jesus are called to do the same. We must set ourselves aside, enter into the life of the other, and hold nothing back.
Our waiting will soon be over. Christmas will come and with it the celebration of life dramatically changed by the arrival of the Christ-child. Let's not leave the aching, weeping world waiting for another year to see Jesus.
Saturday, 19 November 2011
Thankfulness
It's been a year! Can you believe it? Yesterday was the one year anniversary of moving to the good old US of A. It brought a palpable sense of relief that we'd survived 365 days and been through everything once.
The year was that perfect mix of joy and pain. Leaving our family and friends, our lovely home, our delightful community brought feelings of loss which verged on the debilitating. But the Lord is faithful in turning our mourning into dancing! Laughter has followed us here.
The year was the ideal blend of old and new. Repeatedly we've seen God use experiences from the past ten years as preparation for this new context. Wisdom appears to be no respecter of circumstances - it'll hide in all things; it's just up to us to seek it.
The year was an engaging concoction of light and dark. We've been at the raw end of humanity and seen God's transformative grace turn the impossible into the possible.
We are truly thankful.
We have cheerleaders that call back and forth across the Atlantic; we have new (and some not so new!) friends here who hold up our arms and our needs and our dreams; we have food on the table and a cute room over our heads, clothes on our backs and feet fitted with holy and unholey shoes.
Thank-you for advocating for us; pestering the Lord for us; and for loving us as only you can.
We're only who we are because of you.
The year was that perfect mix of joy and pain. Leaving our family and friends, our lovely home, our delightful community brought feelings of loss which verged on the debilitating. But the Lord is faithful in turning our mourning into dancing! Laughter has followed us here.
The year was the ideal blend of old and new. Repeatedly we've seen God use experiences from the past ten years as preparation for this new context. Wisdom appears to be no respecter of circumstances - it'll hide in all things; it's just up to us to seek it.
The year was an engaging concoction of light and dark. We've been at the raw end of humanity and seen God's transformative grace turn the impossible into the possible.
We are truly thankful.
We have cheerleaders that call back and forth across the Atlantic; we have new (and some not so new!) friends here who hold up our arms and our needs and our dreams; we have food on the table and a cute room over our heads, clothes on our backs and feet fitted with holy and unholey shoes.
Thank-you for advocating for us; pestering the Lord for us; and for loving us as only you can.
We're only who we are because of you.
Tuesday, 1 November 2011
Saints
The Americans really know how to decorate for the season. Halloween brought 6 foot spiders on fake webs crawling over windows and smiling, carved pumpkins revealing a sinister light on doorsteps. About 4 blocks down our street is what is now known as the Demon House. Severed heads drip from the drain pipes, an empty coffin gawps a hellish orange glow and devilish faces with pursuing eyes repulse or delight passers - depending on their tendencies. I don't find all that terribly helpful to my spirit, mind or body.
Robert E. Webber in "Ancient-Future Time: Forming Spirituality through the Christian Year" suggests that:
'A good antidote to the underworld themes of Halloween is to return to the
real meaning of All Saints' Day - a celebration of the life and witness of God's
people who model a relationship with God for us.' (p175)
I'm inspired to chase after God by those with the determined persistence of Jacob. I'm called to believe in His faithfulness by the existence of the children of Abraham and Sarah. I'm assured of His attention to detail when people testify that like Ruth they 'happen' to find themselves in the kinsman redeemer's field. I delight in His intimacy when people declare, like Zephaniah, that He rejoices over them with singing.
Today I celebrate the saints who still walk the earth and those that are with Jesus. The men and women of faith who've prayed, taught, corrected and wooed me dancing into the family of God. My spirit testifies to the example of you all.
I wonder whose spirit will testify that I modeled for them a relationship with God?
So, on this All Saints Day, celebrate and give thanks for those who have pointed to the Father, been Jesus' hands and feet, and been conduits of the Holy Spirit. And consider why people will celebrate your life and witness.
Robert E. Webber in "Ancient-Future Time: Forming Spirituality through the Christian Year" suggests that:
'A good antidote to the underworld themes of Halloween is to return to the
real meaning of All Saints' Day - a celebration of the life and witness of God's
people who model a relationship with God for us.' (p175)
I'm inspired to chase after God by those with the determined persistence of Jacob. I'm called to believe in His faithfulness by the existence of the children of Abraham and Sarah. I'm assured of His attention to detail when people testify that like Ruth they 'happen' to find themselves in the kinsman redeemer's field. I delight in His intimacy when people declare, like Zephaniah, that He rejoices over them with singing.
Today I celebrate the saints who still walk the earth and those that are with Jesus. The men and women of faith who've prayed, taught, corrected and wooed me dancing into the family of God. My spirit testifies to the example of you all.
I wonder whose spirit will testify that I modeled for them a relationship with God?
So, on this All Saints Day, celebrate and give thanks for those who have pointed to the Father, been Jesus' hands and feet, and been conduits of the Holy Spirit. And consider why people will celebrate your life and witness.
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Calling
Dear friends, it's been 53 days since my last blogfession.
Special shout-out to Phil who called me as I was - a blogger gone AWOL.
I've felt a little like Elisa Dolittle recently - "Oh, woe, what will become of me". I tried job hunting online yesterday and it wasn't a terribly life-giving experience. In fact I had to go and lie down after it. That can happen when we give another person, organization or institution permission to determine our worth.
And yet ... we need other people to shout out the truth about us when we can't see it in ourselves. The truth that my calling is to be teacher, encourager, listener, truth seeker & revealer, nurturer, worshiper and indiscriminate lover - does not change just because I don't feel it. Nor does it change when I don't walk in it, nor does it go away when I don't believe it. It's like the call is irrevocable. But sometimes I need to be reminded.
Just because I'm not in a classroom doesn't mean I'm not teaching (thanks for that Brandon!). That's the difference between calling and vocation. The calling remains the same, but the vocation where we work-out our calling can change.
In Act 1 of Hamlet, Polonius' gives one last piece of advice to his son Laertes:
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
How can we be true to our own selves if we don't know who (not what) we are called to be? Maybe we're going around being really false to ourselves and therefore to everyone else.
Calling is closely linked to desire. Our calling echoes our heartfelt desires. When we walk unashamedly in our unique calling, we open ourselves to multiple opportunities to experience that which we all desire - to repeatedly find ourselves in our sweet spot. All of us who desire to leave an imprint; to be more than flesh, blood and dust; to be people of substance; we need to hear our calling.
So call out the truth to your friends hiding under rocks of shame; trudging wearily with rejection; nursing fractures of uncertainty; shouldering boulders of blame. Call out the beauty, the fragrance, the strength and the vision. And in the echoes of your shouts, listen for your own calling.
Special shout-out to Phil who called me as I was - a blogger gone AWOL.
I've felt a little like Elisa Dolittle recently - "Oh, woe, what will become of me". I tried job hunting online yesterday and it wasn't a terribly life-giving experience. In fact I had to go and lie down after it. That can happen when we give another person, organization or institution permission to determine our worth.
And yet ... we need other people to shout out the truth about us when we can't see it in ourselves. The truth that my calling is to be teacher, encourager, listener, truth seeker & revealer, nurturer, worshiper and indiscriminate lover - does not change just because I don't feel it. Nor does it change when I don't walk in it, nor does it go away when I don't believe it. It's like the call is irrevocable. But sometimes I need to be reminded.
Just because I'm not in a classroom doesn't mean I'm not teaching (thanks for that Brandon!). That's the difference between calling and vocation. The calling remains the same, but the vocation where we work-out our calling can change.
In Act 1 of Hamlet, Polonius' gives one last piece of advice to his son Laertes:
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
How can we be true to our own selves if we don't know who (not what) we are called to be? Maybe we're going around being really false to ourselves and therefore to everyone else.
Calling is closely linked to desire. Our calling echoes our heartfelt desires. When we walk unashamedly in our unique calling, we open ourselves to multiple opportunities to experience that which we all desire - to repeatedly find ourselves in our sweet spot. All of us who desire to leave an imprint; to be more than flesh, blood and dust; to be people of substance; we need to hear our calling.
So call out the truth to your friends hiding under rocks of shame; trudging wearily with rejection; nursing fractures of uncertainty; shouldering boulders of blame. Call out the beauty, the fragrance, the strength and the vision. And in the echoes of your shouts, listen for your own calling.
Friday, 26 August 2011
Glue
What holds us together?
This week I experienced my first earthquake - shake, rattle and roll! I was in a basement restaurant, Teaism, having a great conversation about life and love with Sheri Shepherd when the table started shaking, then the floor, then me. Silence. Nobody spoke - we all just looked at each other. Then the lights flickered and we all suddenly realized a basement wasn't the best place to be! As we left the restaurant people were pouring out of the surrounding buildings, cell phone reception was down, sirens careered through the streets and it was every man for himself.
Isn't it weird how you can be surrounded by thousands of people and be utterly alone? As I looked around my fellow Washingtonians I thought, would any of these people save me in an crisis? Would I save them before saving myself? In that moment I just wanted to be with Richard, the man who I know would do anything to save me.
It is amazing how the Lord puts us in families - however that 'family' looks. He puts us with people who love hanging out with us, who get our jokes, who shrug at our idiosyncrasies, who gobble our best and worst dishes, and who miss us when we're gone. This is what holds us together - it's the little dots of glue that shared memories and future dreams create. It's not about seeking out people who have loads of stuff, but those who have open hands and tender hearts; it's not about the physically beautiful but about those who adore us just as we are.
So, what's your sticky glue?
This week I experienced my first earthquake - shake, rattle and roll! I was in a basement restaurant, Teaism, having a great conversation about life and love with Sheri Shepherd when the table started shaking, then the floor, then me. Silence. Nobody spoke - we all just looked at each other. Then the lights flickered and we all suddenly realized a basement wasn't the best place to be! As we left the restaurant people were pouring out of the surrounding buildings, cell phone reception was down, sirens careered through the streets and it was every man for himself.
Isn't it weird how you can be surrounded by thousands of people and be utterly alone? As I looked around my fellow Washingtonians I thought, would any of these people save me in an crisis? Would I save them before saving myself? In that moment I just wanted to be with Richard, the man who I know would do anything to save me.
It is amazing how the Lord puts us in families - however that 'family' looks. He puts us with people who love hanging out with us, who get our jokes, who shrug at our idiosyncrasies, who gobble our best and worst dishes, and who miss us when we're gone. This is what holds us together - it's the little dots of glue that shared memories and future dreams create. It's not about seeking out people who have loads of stuff, but those who have open hands and tender hearts; it's not about the physically beautiful but about those who adore us just as we are.
So, what's your sticky glue?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)