a bright christmas?

photo © 2008 Grzegorz Łobiński | more info (via: Wylio)
Merry Christmas Eve!  Or it should be merry, right?Christmas is supposed to be full of good things.  Family, food, gifts, music, beauty.  So why can't I shake this sense of sadness?  Oh, I know why I'm sad.  Some who were supposed to be with us for Christmas won't be here after all.  And we are sad about that.  As we should be, because their absence leaves a hole, and that hole can't be filled by gifts or food or any amount of fun.

But there must have been a hole in that first Christmas, too.  Mary and Joseph were in a town far from home, away from family and friends, sharing a stable with some animals.  And Mary went into labor.  How frightening would that have been?!  A young teenager having her first baby without her mom or her sister or her aunt or any familiar face other than this new husband who must have been wondering about this baby that was not his.  Was Joseph able to find a mid-wife to help her?  Or was she alone except for this frightened young boy and some noisy animals?  Either way, there was a big hole in her life here.  Her community should have been there with her to share in such a monumental journey.  But they weren't.  And that special baby wasn't waiting for the perfect Christmas to make his appearance.

But despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, that first Christmas must have been beautiful.  Because at the end of the day, Mary was holding a baby boy in her arms.  After all the fear and pain and loneliness, beauty broke in.  The hole in her circumstances didn't swallow the joy.

And the hole in our circumstance doesn't swallow the joy, either.  It doesn't swallow the brightness in my children's eyes or the thankfulness we feel to be with far-away family.  It doesn't swallow the blessing of being together.  And it doesn't swallow the reason we even have this holiday - God With Us.

So for all of us who are missing someone this holiday, or who are struggling with circumstances beyond our control, or who are not sure what control we should be exerting on our circumstances, I wish us a bright Christmas even when it's not always merry.  I wish you a day of beauty in the midst of any sadness or fear.  Today I will try to remember Mary, who must've been missing her family terribly but was also overwhelmed with joy.  For the Light of the World was with her, and is with us.

a letter to the universe

Dear Universe,

Four years ago when I was planning to go back to school, you pointed me toward a doctor who found a hole in my heart.  While I'm extremely grateful, it did eliminate my ability to go to school.

This weekend, when I was wondering whether or go back to school, my son ended up in the ER and we discovered a humongous tree in our backyard that might fall on houses and power-lines and must be removed.  While I'm extremely grateful no one has been seriously hurt, it has eliminated my ability to go to school. 

Next time I'm thinking of going back to school, could you help me win the lottery (even though I don't play it) instead?  Then I'll never consider school again.  I promise.

Sincerely,
Me

some artsy/crafty stuff

We're almost done with Christmas shopping/making.  Almost.  Whew!  I'll tell myself I should start earlier next year, but it's unlikely to happen.  I know it.  We're excited about some of the things we've made for the kiddoes.  Hopefully, they'll be excited too!

I have managed to get a few personal projects done.  There are multiple online tutorials for each of these things.  I just kind of mish-mashed the tutorials to make it work for me.  They're not perfect, by any means, but they're functional and bright, which is what I wanted. 

Here's a plastic bag holder.  My goal is to move toward using re-usable bags (and I'm in the process of making some - did you see that there's high lead content in many of the store-bought ones?), but I have an awful time remembering to take the re-usable bags into the store (or into the car!).  And let's face it, it's easier to let the bagger do his job with the bags he's used to using.  So we still end up with a lot of the plastic ones.  But at least we can recycle them, and this hanger on the door reminds us to do that!

And here's a wall pocket I made to put school/church papers in.  You know, those papers with info that needs to be dealt with, but maybe not immediately.  We were just piling them on the counter, and then I'd forget about them.  So this way, there's a place for them out of the way but within sight.  I used a cereal box to make it sort of stiff - gotta love upcycling!

And here's a similar wall-pocket, but for a cell phone.  It (belatedly) occurred to me that our phones are often in pockets or on shelves out of the reach of Our Girl.  And we don't have a land-line phone.  So if there were an emergency, she might not be able to get to a phone or know where one was.  Thus - phone pocket!  Now I try to stick my phone there as soon as I walk in the door.  And the little pocket next to the phone has a list of phone numbers for her (so she doesn't have to find them in the contact list - phones are way more complicated than they used to be!).  I had her practice using both of our cell phones and the phone number list so we're relatively confident she could make a call in an emergency.

The Girl has also been busy in art class at school.  They post some of their artwork online, which I love.  Here are a couple of her latest masterpieces:



And The Boy made a gingerbread house at preschool.  Well, I think My Man did most of the work, but The Boy did plenty of tasting!

Pictures of our Christmas craftinees will wait until after Christmas.  I'm so excited!  

vulnerability and fear

photo © 2007 Seth de l'Isle (via: Wylio)
I watched this today:  TEDxHouston - Brené Brown.

Brene Brown talks about being vulnerable and believing that we are all worthy of love and belonging, even (and especially) in our imperfection.  I can't summarize it well (it's worth watching on your own), but she explains how in her research she found that it was the people who were willing to be vulnerable who were also the most content and joyful. 

Which kinda sucks.

Because I don't really want to be vulnerable.  Not really, truly vulnerable. 

I want Security.  Knowing.  Constancy. 

But I also want Community, Connection, Love.  And there's the rub.  Those relational things, those most-important things, aren't gotten without vulnerability.  Sucks.  Oh, I know what you're thinking - it's beautiful and wonderful that God made us this way, but wouldn't it be so much EASIER if we didn't have to be vulnerable?  I know, I know, Jesus didn't come to us for an easy life.  Just a full one.  A better one.  A bright one. 

I think I'm a little better at being vulnerable than I used to be.  I'm more likely to speak up for myself, to admit my faults, to be open about my beliefs.  The other day I even admitted out loud (to a completely shocked church member) that I am a liberal (*gasp*), and it didn't worry me at all.  I know this is no big deal to lots of you, but to me, it's huge.  Because growing up in and around church, and relying on churches for our paychecks, has made me very nervous in church.  I know it's not supposed to be that way.  And I know it's as much my own insecurity as it is any real danger in the church.  But I have seen and heard too many stories of church gone bad.  And it makes me afraid.  Or it has.  I'm a little less afraid these days.  A little.  But still, I am afraid. 

Not just about church, but about all kinds of things.  I read this blog post (Fear Not, by Kimberlee Conway Ireton) a couple weeks ago and thought - yep, that's me - always afraid.  I'm afraid that I seem like a dork to other people.  I'm afraid the food I buy will give us cancer.  I'm afraid of issuing invitations and being rejected.  I'm afraid that I can never think of the right words to say (not out loud, anyway).  I'm afraid that I am not a good friend and that making friends is so freakin' hard for me.  I'm afraid that my heart miracle was my one "get out of jail" card and the next time (soon) I'll be hit by a truck or die of some horrible disease.  I'm afraid that something tragic will happen to my husband or kids.  I'm afraid that we'll never have money for retirement and will saddle our kids with all kinds of debt because we can't help them with school.  I'm afraid I'll pass on my insecurity to my kids.  I'm afraid I'll make the wrong decision about what the next step should be.  I'm afraid I'll never have a church home that really feels like home.  I'm afraid my husband will get fired because he's braver than me.  I'm afraid I'll waste my life being afraid.

What a waste, right?  Fear Not - that's apparently the most often repeated command in Scripture.  Who knew?  Not me.  But it's one I need to hear over and over and over. 

So during this Advent season, when we remember the Angels who say over and over "Fear Not," I will try to be a little more vulnerable, and a little less afraid. 

for my children: a statement of faith

A few years ago, I had unexpected heart surgery (written about here).  Though the surgery was not very dangerous as far as heart procedures go, I was still scared.  I thought I would be OK, but I wasn't sure.  At the time, My Girl was almost 2.  I wasn't afraid to die, but I was afraid to miss out on life and leave behind those I loved, especially her.  So I wrote her a letter, and left it in my dresser, hoping that someone would find it if I died.  I don't remember exactly what was in the letter, but it was pretty short.  Because when it came right down to it, I didn't know how to word all the hopes and desires and faith and love in my heart. 

Now fast-forward a few years to this week.  I was checking out a blog (Momastery) that a friend recommended to me, and I found the blogger's statement of faith.  And with tears running down my face, I thought, "That's it!  That's what I'd say about my faith if I were a real writer and had the right words to say it.  That's what I want my children to know."  It doesn't describe my individual love of them, personally, of course, but it expresses so much of what I believe about God and Jesus and community and life and love.  So here, I'm going to quote it all, because someday in the future I want my children to know...

This, THIS is what I believe is important.  This is what I hope to live by, though I fail more than I succeed.  This is what I hope I will have many conversations with you about, but in case I don't, here it is in the words of Momastery blogger Glennon:

I believe that Jesus was and is God’s son, and that every word He said is The Truth, and that He lives and loves and breathes life into the hopeless.

I don’t believe that there is another human being on Earth who is more or less worthy of His love than I.

My commitment to Jesus and His way of life does not compel me to try to convert other people. Ever. I assume that others’ spiritual experiences are every bit as real and sacred to them as mine is to me. If I seem different to someone and that someone asks me why, I tell her all about my Jesus, without agenda or motives. If not, I just assume I’m not being different enough to cause a stir. And I continue to stay as close to Him as possible, knowing that He is the Alchemist, and that everyday He’s making me more golden.

I love my Jesus.

My love for Jesus means that every day I open myself up to becoming more gentle and generous and truthful and compassionate. Because I love Jesus I allow myself to be constantly used up…trying never to hoard the money or time or energy for tomorrow that is needed today. My love for Jesus means that I try to see Him in every person I encounter…even, especially, the people I don’t like. My love for Jesus means that while I look forward to a heavenly afterlife, I concern myself mainly with inviting heaven to Earth now, by loving like Jesus loved- recklessly, without reservation, without judgment. My love for and utter trust in Jesus compels me to attempt a life without guilt or pride or fear. He gives me the courage to live out what I profess to believe…that it is always right to turn the other cheek, to avoid gossip, to tell the truth, to side with the poor, oppressed, and outcast, to give till it hurts, and to live like the only power worth having is the power that comes from service, vulnerability, and dependence on Him.

My husband and I want to live like Jesus did more than we want anything else. Not because we are good people, but because we are thrill seekers. We want to suck every drop out of life and live lives of adventure. We don’t want to fall into the pattern of settling for small dreams, like more and bigger and better stuff. We want to live out bigger dreams… life changing, world changing dreams. We want to live on the edge, to witness miracles, to align ourselves with the energy of the universe. Judging from our past experiences, we feel most alive when we live Jesus’ way. And Jesus’ way is the reckless, senseless, revolutionary love that tends to make people uncomfortable. Jesus’ way is siding with the powerless, always. Jesus’ way is subversive and countercultural and counterintuitive. And this sort of thing suits us. We fancy ourselves rebels with a cause, if you will. So we try to keep everything liquid…our hearts, our plans, our money, our opinions, even some of our beliefs …and we listen for his guidance. We pray for the patience to stay when he says stay and the courage to jump when he says jump. We prefer jumping to staying, so we notice He makes us practice staying a whole lot. And we hear from Him all the time. We feel his peace and love like mighty arms wrapped around us and we experience his guidance like lighthouse beams through stormy skies. We know what He wants from us always. And we trust Him completely.

And when we hear Christians concerning themselves publicly about anything other than poverty and disease and hunger and oppression and violence - we turn away. Because really, who has the time?

We are also committed to knowing everything we can about other spiritual practices and religions. We read about Buddha and the Koran and the Bhagavad-Gita [note from me: I don't actually do this because I'm too lazy, but I respect those who do!] and we are comforted to see the same truths repeated again and again throughout every great religion. We find, like we always do when we look closer, that we are all more similar than we are different. We don’t allow extremists from any faith to scare us away from that truth. We teach yoga and meditation to our children as spiritual practices. We think there are some things that Eastern religions do better than mainstream Christianity, like helping their followers find stillness and the connection between the mind, body, and spirit. So we go to them for guidance and help in areas we find lacking in our spiritual experience. We believe that the whole world is God’s and everything in it and that there is beauty to experience everywhere. We teach our children that we respect and learn about all religions, and we explain to them why we choose to worship only Jesus. We tell them that Jesus is our religion. No denomination- just Jesus. We teach and show them how Grace changes everything. We pray, every night, that they and Jesus find each other, but we explain that whatever path they choos, they are to respect and seek to understand those on other paths. And to assume that their spiritual experiences are likely every bit as real as ours. We hope that this commitment to educating our children about different faiths will result in their faith decisions being based on knowledge and freedom.

And because how can you possibly know and understand what something is if you don’t know what it isn’t?

And now I’ll hit the biggies, so hold on to your little hat (or Yamaka or habit or hijab or what have you).

1. No, we don't believe that everyone who doesn't believe in Jesus is going to hell, and we don't allow anyone to even sort of suggest that to our children. If you do believe that, we love you just the same.

2. Yes, we believe that a church should not only tolerate but embrace every person who seeks refuge there…every race, background, or sexual orientation - without trying to change them. Based on our reading and research, this is what we believe Jesus would have done. We realize that there are parts of the New Testament that suggest otherwise. We have studied these scriptures. We have read them in several translations, researched different denominations interpretations, and sought insight from wise teachers. In the end we have decided to accept that there are inconsistencies in the human translations and understanding of these passages rather than accept that there are inconsistencies in our God’s perfect love. And we have decided that Jesus’ ultimate teaching was that there is no law that supersedes the law of love.

3. Thirdly, we believe that God can speak to us on our couch in our pajamas as clearly as He can speak to a group of ministers at a convention. So we read the Bible together… we’ve read every word of the Bible. Even those realllllly long painful lists in the Old Testament. We read the Bible every day. We don’t accept secondhand information about our friends and we won’t accept it about our God. We always go to the source. And when making decisions about what scripture means we seek counsel, and then we pray, and we listen. Then we decide for ourselves what God is saying to us through the Bible. Just me and my husband, Jesus, and His Word. No other mediator is invited. We must work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. And when we don’t understand a mystery of God, we say “We don’t know,” rather than accept someone else’s interpretation. I actually wish all people of faith would say “I don’t know” more.

It took us seven years and five moves to find a church that teaches the same things about Jesus’ divinity and acceptance and boundless love that we teach our children. We had to leave churches we’d settled into, people we called family, students I taught in Sunday school, families we’d grown with and cried with and loved. But when faced with teachings that didn’t match our understanding of Jesus, we had to keep moving.

Because we couldn’t shake the belief that where you worship makes a statement, to the world and to your children, about who you worship.

I find that every time I keep myself open to hearing from someone else about their relationship with God, especially if it’s very different than mine, I learn something new and important. It’s almost like God designed things that way.

So anyway, that’s all. I just wanted to answer your questions…I’m a yoga loving, Koran quoting, Ghandi following, church hopping, child of Jesus.

And I vote for whichever guy or gal seems the type to take the underdog in a fight. Regardless of what faith or party he or she professes.

hope

photo © 2008 Sharan Ranjit (via: Wylio)For many churches celebrating Advent, this is the week of Hope.  At least I think it is.  My church isn't doing the traditional Hope, Peace, Joy, Love order this year, so I could be wrong - maybe Hope is next week?  But regardless, I'm thinking of hope this week!  It was only a few weeks ago that I was all optimistic about hope (here).  But now I'm feeling less so.  I'm worried about some decisions that are important decisions, but I feel no clear sense of direction.  No particular hope for any decision.  It all seems so blurry.  Not exactly hopeLESS, but not hopeFULL either.

Today, I'm remembering what it was like 7 years ago when my heart was bursting with hope during this week of Advent, and I just wanted it to go away.  Because sometimes it seems too hard to hope.  When that hope gets dashed enough, it can lead to despair. 

But I'm also remembering 7 years ago when I prayed that God would take away my hope because I just couldn't handle it anymore.  It was only 2 weeks later that I found out my hope was realized.  That it had actually been realized during that hope week of Advent; I just hadn't known it yet.  In case you haven't guessed - that's when I found out I was pregnant with My Girl.

Hope is a 2-edged thing, I think.  Necessary for a bright and beautiful life, but also exhausting and sometimes heart-breaking.  I have hope.  Really, I do.  Hope for the world and my family and myself.  But sometimes that hope gets beaten down.  Sometimes it seems like it would be easier to live without it.  To just go about my day-to-day life without any desire or anticipation for the future.  Then I could be pleasantly surprised when things turn out unexpectedly well without being crushed by disappointment when they don't.

But that's a little selfish, isn't it?  I do need to be better about living in the moment, loving today without worrying about the future.  But hope is what keeps us pushing for a better world - for everyone.  Without hope, why would we fight for lost causes?  Or love the unlovable?  Or work for a better tomorrow?  Why would we wake up at all?  Hope is important.  Hope is life-giving.  Hope is also freakin' hard.

So today I will struggle to hold onto hope.  A bright and beautiful hope that spurs me onward and upward, even when I'd just like to stay in bed.  A bright and beautiful hope that trusts, even weakly, that there is a bright and beautiful tomorrow for all of us.