It's that time of year where the Christmas season sneaks up on us faster than we expected and the scent of cinnamon and Christmas trees fills the air along with a cloud of mixed emotions. Between the excitement of the season and the stress of shopping, the joy and heartbreak of family gatherings and the ever so delicate battle of Jesus vs Santa vs "Happy Holidays", it's no wonder we're exhausted by the end of the year.
Remember when we were little? And Christmas was awesome? No mix of emotions- just awesome. Sure, a slight mix between happy, blissful, ecstatic and satisfied, but that was it. Christmas was the best time of the year.
Then we got a little bit older, and Christmas was still the best time of the year, but more-so because every other less than perfect detail in life just simply didn't matter today. Today, everyone loved each other and chatted amiably. Today, there was only laughter and heartfelt hugs. Today there was peace.
Then we grew up. There's a faint taste of happiness but the season is significantly more stressful as we are now deeper into adulthood. The holiday is slightly more expensive, and there's a certain level of pressure as to whose house will be the house of honor; who is mandatory to shop for and who would be OK with a nice Christmas card; who has to sit on the other side of the table of who to avoid any unpleasantries.
I know I can't speak for everyone- some will always have overwhelming joy and good memories with each Christmas, and that is a blessing. But to some, this season is no longer solely joy. This season is sprinkled with fragments of a broken family- fragments of a broken heart.
I think that that's OK. I think it's OK to be a little sad or nostalgic for simpler times. But we can also stay joyful, because regardless of anything in or out of our control this season, Christmas will always be wonderful.
Christmas is wonderful because this is the day that Christ our savior was born! That is truly the reason behind this season, and I can think of no better reason to relentlessly celebrate. Despite our circumstances, God loves us, so much that He sent His only Son, Jesus, to come to this earth that he might heal our broken hearts, bind our wounds, set the captives free- Jesus came to offer us a life outside of ourselves; life everlasting.
Have you heard the Christmas story? It's incredible. And it is personally written, with love, to you and to me. Do you remember when we remembered that, and that was all that mattered? Here, in our broken world, a savior was born, to teach us the way to truth, love and life, and to heal us and offer the opportunity for us to be restored to be forever whole, and wholly loved for eternal life. A savior was born not to condemn us for our mistakes or wrongdoings, and not to beat us up for our failure to be perfect, but to pick us up and dust us off, to clothe us in beautiful robes of righteousness, and to walk by our side in this life and the next.
Jesus loves us! What a merry, merry Christmas it is.
The phrase "I love you" is not one that I ever really thought about. I say it to family before ending a phone call, I sometimes see/hear couples saying it to each other. I'd never been romantically in love before so I'd never actually said it apart from being a sign-off phrase.
About a month ago, I finally worked up the nerve to tell my boyfriend that I loved him. I'd been hemming and hawing over it for almost a month after he professed his unrequited love for me. Having never been in love before, and having been slightly jaded by movies vs real relationships visual definitions of this concept, it really took a lot of thought and processing to figure out if what I was feeling was love, or if it was still infatuation.
I am now very well-versed in these three words. Apart from sign off language, there are sometimes I just look over at my boyfriend and become overwhelmed with a feeling of appreciation of how he loves me and a compulsion to tell him that I love him. A year ago, I would be judging someone for making a statement of that caliber of cheesy, but if you've ever been in love, you know what I mean. Sometimes you can't help it. It just floods you and you have to do something about it.
Last week I was praying, and I told God that I loved him. While that sounds like a standard thing to say, I realized that I did not remember the last time I told God that I loved him apart from a worship song sing-along. I could not remember the last time I looked into the eyes of my Lord and told him how madly in love I was with him. Even though He tells me every day.
I've always understood the "God is my Father" aspect. I fear him, try to obey him, know that he loves me and I know that he has my best interest at heart which means he sometimes has to discipline me. I know I can go to him for advice or counsel, or to be held when I am broken. The other aspect of God's love, the divine romance, I never really grasped before.
Being in a dating relationship has helped me draw several parallel understandings of God's love for me. I realize that despite my doubts, insecurities, selfishness, and just plain craziness, God has never stopped pursuing me. He loved me from Day1 and has consistently fought for my heart. I realize He woos me with romantic gestures almost daily; he paints a sunset, or gives me a field of flowers, and whispers confident affirmation in my ear that I am wonderfully and fearfully made, that he loves me and has great plans to prosper me. He died for me so that we could be together for eternity.
I realize now that God and I have had somewhat of a complacent marriage. We've had our ups and downs. We had our honey moon stage in my child hood, the "I want a divorce" stage in my teens, the "I am so completely in love with you again" stage in late high school, the "you're great- but your kids are super obnoxious" phase in college, and finally are entering the "you are truly all that I want, need, desire because I am so incredibly in love with you" phase, which I must say is my favorite yet.
Despite anything that I have ever done to wrong him, or to wrong his children, he continues to forgive me and desires to put me in his robe of righteousness. From the very beginning when he created earth and sky and water and everything I would need to survive, to when he knit me thoughtfully in my mothers womb, through every laugh and tear and heartbreak, He has loved me. That verse, "We love because He first loved us" finally makes sense. Sometimes, when you realize how much you are loved, it overwhelms you to a point that you are compelled to love back.
If you are a believer- tell God you love him. And then show him through your actions and words. End complacency in your relationship and strive for complete intimacy.
If you are not a believer- please hear me when I tell you that you are so incredibly loved by God, and he is desperate to have a relationship with you. Take some time to explore Gods love for you, and once you begin to understand just how high and deep and long and wide his love is for you, you will have no choice but to love him back.
God's love is incomparable. Truly, there is nothing like it, and nothing I could ever desire more.
I've always heard that those who can't do, teach. God much have heard this before too. About three weeks ago, I started having anxiety attacks. The kind where you physically have to tell yourself how to breathe, or you just stop breathing. I knew I was feeling pressure from work and family relationships, and I knew I had a lot on my mind, but there was nothing I was consciously anxious about. I knew that there was nothing causing me stress that I had any control over, and I knew that there was nothing causing me stress that was going to end the world. I kept fairly quiet about it because I don't want to cause a scene and I hate when people think I'm not capable of something, prideful nature I suppose. I tried prayer, exercise, sleep, deep breathing- nothing would take this feeling away, and nothing helped me decipher where exactly the root of this anxiety was stemming from.
About a week in to having anxiety attacks, I got an email that I would be teaching middle school students on the topic of pressure. Somewhat befuddled on how to teach on a topic I myself hadn't figured out the answer to, I dove into scripture and Google, trying to figure out what the root of pressure was, and how one combats internal and external forces.
I was unexpectedly fortunate to come across multiple methods of the TV show Mythbusters that featured specific myths dealing with pressure. One of their statements, was that when pressure is being placed on an item, the only way to counteract that pressure is to push back. It's similar to taking an indigestion pill- the pressure created by the pill counteracts the pressure in your body, and thus releases the inner pressure. The other conclusion, was that pressure has to be able to go somewhere, or it will implode. Pressure will continue to build, until it is released.
I decided to study up on my AlkaSeltzer experiments to display to the middle school students how a little bit of pressure (1 tablet and a water bottle caps amount of water sealed in a film canister) can cause a 10ft rocket explosion. As I tested this experiment, I began to relate to the film canister. That was how I felt. Like there was an expanding amount of pressure building and building and I was on the verge of explosion. But of course, I dismissed the thought and carried on with life in my "I'm a big girl I don't need to dwell on silly life problems" kind of a way. I'm not one for crying, and I'm strong enough to take on anything that comes my way (so I tell myself). As the weeks progressed, and these thoughts were suppressed, they quickly bubbled their way to the surface and emerged in an explosion of tears and emotion late last night.
All of a sudden, every little thing I had been holding on to, every thought, every action, every word and life situation, came erupting out like a volcano as I sobbed through my myriad of tangled feelings. Feelings... what are these? Feelings are for the weak right? Feelings are for those who aren't strong enough to woman up and deal with it. Feelings are silly, deceptive and unnecessary. True though that may be, they are real.
I realized I was feeling sadness, stress, frustration, hopelessness, anger, regret, failure. All of these emotions were bottling up inside over the course of a few years, and I had done nothing to let these feelings out. Instead I masked them with optimism, cheerful demeanor, counted blessings, and a smile. And I didn't even realize I was doing it. I really thought that I wasn't bothered or affected- that I was strong enough- and God was strong enough- to keep me from having to release any sort of girly pms-y emotion. But I forgot to fight pressure with pressure- and emotion with emotion- and I closed off all outlets.
As I prayed over what verse to share with my middle school kids, Philippians 4:6-7 kept echoing in my mind like a broken record. "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." But God I'm not anxious about anything- and I am praying- why don't I have peace? Anxiety can creep on anybody. It's not a decision to be anxious- being anxious is different than being a worrier. Anxiety is completely mental, and is often triggered when the mental/internal pressure you face is simply too much to handle. So how do we combat these feelings? In every situation, we pray and petition the Lord, giving thanks for how He has blessed us, and actually manning up to ask Him for what we want. Instead of saying "God, this situation is killing me, but I'm going to rejoice and deal with it" why not be honest and say "God, I hate this- it's killing me- please give me the strength I need to survive and to thrive and make your presence known, or please present an opportunity to change." And knowing that God hears our requests, and wants what's best for us, because He loves us so incredibly much, and He knows what our future holds and that it holds promise for hope and abundant living, that is where true peace from God comes. And that peace will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus from another attack. That is what I want- a peace that transcends all understanding, and my savior guarding my heart and mind, wrapping me in love and protection. I can't say that this breakthrough instantly cured me, and I am not diminishing the merit of prescription medication, but it did give me a renewed perspective and hope for continued recovery. I learned to not just pray, but petition, and to remain confident in the promise I've been given. In preparing a lesson for kids, I finally learned what God had been trying to tell me all along. And just to prove that this message was for me, not a single middle school student showed up today. Yes, my God has a sense of humor. And He knows, the best way to learn, is sometimes to teach.
It starts with a decision. A single choice. One night of skipping your devotional to watch television. One brief moment of a slipped hand in a physical romance. A few cents fudged on an expense report. One skipped date night in a marriage. It's no big deal. It's just one time. One moment. One decision.
But what happens when you've made that one decision- and there were no major consequences- so you make another decision, and then another. You skip a week of devotionals, because you're really just too tired and busy. You start being more open to wandering hands- it's not like you're having sex or anything. No one seemed to care that a few cents were fudged- and you're underpaid anyway- they won't miss a few dollars. Who really needs date nights when you're married? You've talked enough. One decision has now become a habit.
Decisions have the power to own us. They can make us into the righteous men and women we were designed to be, or make us a miserable mess. They can take us to reach our full potential, or they can take us down a road we never imagined we'd go down. No one lays in bed as a child and thinks, "Someday, I'm not going to follow this God that I've learned about in Sunday School." "Someday, I'm going to give myself away before I'm married, and be a teenaged, un-wed mother. Or have lots of one night stands." "One day, I'm going to embezzle money from my company." "After I get married, I'm going to stop talking to my spouse, and then divorce them."
Take it to another extreme. No child lays in bed at night thinking "Someday, I'm going to be in a gang." "Someday, I'm going to be a serial killer." "Someday, I'm going to strip and sell my body for cash." "Someday, I'm going to be an alcoholic, and get hooked on drugs."
Decisions can be dangerous. They can also bring blessings. Few things in life are more powerful than a single decision. It's why so many writers in scripture caution us to take every thought captive, and meditate on God's word, and hide His promises in our hearts, and invite God to search our hearts and examine us, to strive to be set apart as a new creation, not of this world. Any time in my life I have ever experienced regret or remorse or conviction, I can trace back to a single decision. A single decision that sent me down a slippery slope to somewhere I'd have thought I'd never be.
We were created by a perfect and Holy God. This idea that we have that holiness or righteousness are boring, or dull, or too demanding, or not worth it, or too extreme, or no fun... we're wrong. Yes, bad decisions can be fun or feel good in the moment. It's nice to enjoy an evening of television, and it feels really good to touch and be touched in a more intimate way, and it can be somewhat cathartic to get that extra twenty cents. It can feel freeing to break free of a challenging marriage. It can feel liberating to take out your inner pain physically on another individual, or to dwell on your anger towards another individual. Or to dance and have men/women look at you with lustful desires. But there are consequences, painful consequences, that just do not outweigh the benefits. The cost of a bad decision, is death.
We have been redeemed from death- We have no more fear in death because we have the opportunity to accept Christ's free gift of salvation. We can invite the Holy Spirit to come inside of us and to guide us, to advise and counsel us as we make decisions. We have the ability to pursue righteous and holy living, and to enjoy true freedom and abundant life. Why do we not take advantage of this incredible blessing?
My personal conviction lately, and my challenge to you- think about the decisions you're making. Does each individual decision bring you closer or pull you farther from righteous living? Is righteous living even something you want anymore? Take every thought captive, and make every decision with eternity in mind.
Have you ever noticed how many churches pride themselves on "not being like other churches"? Those other churches that judge people who don't look/act like them. But there's this air of judgement in their non-judgement. I went to a church a few years ago that actually pulled someone on the stage to prove how accepting they were. He had a ratty ponytail and a leather motorcycle jacket, with hole-y jeans. The pastor put his arm around him and proceeded to talk about how different this man looked- how other churches might look at him and immediately judge him since he does not look like a stand-up Christian. But not this church. No, there was no judgement here. They accepted this grizzly Biker, just as he was.
Does anyone else catch the irony in these situations? The churches that talk about how they love people, they don't judge people, they accept people- while at the same time calling those very people out as being a different caliber than they are?
Call me crazy, but the church is the church, and people are people. Being "different than those other churches" is not a badge of honor. The church is the bride of Christ- singular. If you're different than all the other churches, something is wrong. As for people, I have no advice on how to get past the Christian stereotypes. It's been drilled into our heads since birth that good Christians look/act/talk a certain way. We almost can't help but add up all the points in our head to see where people are on the spiritual spectrum. But at the end of the day, we all just want to be loved and accepted, where we're at, as we are- and encouraged to reach our potential to be our best.
Food for thought- It's ok to notice that people are different than us, or that churches operate differently than our own. We don't have to pretend to be blind to differences- observation is different than judgment. But if we spend our lives comparing ourselves to others, we ourselves may never actually live.
I was reading John 8 tonight, about the woman caught in adultery, and I was inspired to look at the story from the perspective of a Pharisee. The below story is fictional, based on the truth of chapter 8 in the book of John. You can read the original story here.
I was raised in the Jewish faith. I came from a family held in high esteem by the religious community. Since childhood, I had strived to keep all of the commandments and to serve God with all that I was. I was a Pharisee. My religious teachings and trainings in the law positioned me as close to Yahweh as humanly possible. I was righteous, and I did whatever I could to instill righteousness in my community. Our God was holy, and there was no room for debauchery or fornication in our holy home.
The other Pharisees and I had been doing a fine job of leading our community in proper doctrine and behavior, until this Jesus of Nazareth showed up. This lowly carpenter who claimed to be one with our holy God- this blasphemer! He was walking through all of the holy lands slandering our good Lord's name and leading people astray with His doctrine of love. He had to be stopped, but He seemed unstoppable.
I met with the other religious leaders and we hashed out the details of how to expose Jesus as the sinful, lowly liar he was. It was brilliant. We'd use the town whore. No one had ever called her out before, but everyone knew the type of woman she was. A woman unfaithful to her husband. This woman was trash, as any true disciple of God would clearly know. We'd see what this Jesus of Nazareth had to say about this worthless harlot.
It was a warm, summer dawn. We knew exactly where this woman would be and who she would be with. As we watched and waited outside of her door, we prayed that God would bless us in our act of obedience to Him. God- bring justice today. Bring your justice.
Two of the men in our group stormed through the door and dragged the whore out as she was in the act of having relations with her lover. I'll never forget her piercing scream as they pulled on her hair, or her tear streaked face as she blushed, desperately trying to cover herself and her indecency. It was the face of a woman in complete desperation and shame. She would be brought to justice.
We approached the city where Jesus was preaching, and threw the woman at his feet. "Teacher," one said as he yanked her up by her hair, fully exposing her to the crowd. "This woman was caught in the act of adultery. The law of Moses commands us to stone such a woman. What do you say we should do?" Brilliant. We had him. If he said to stone her, he clearly did not live by this gospel of love he so brazenly proclaimed. If he said to not stone her, he was going against the very law of Moses that he supposedly created. We had him in a corner, and we could not have been more excited or proud. God was smiling upon us that day.
The crowd grew silent in suspense. Some looked away, blushing at the sight of the undressed woman. Others stared in judgement and condemnation, some stared with lust, and others had a look that seemed to suggest their own personal shame and guilt- as if this was not the first time they were seeing this naked body. We all waited eagerly to hear Jesus's response. The woman's tears had since subsided and she sunk her head in anticipation of death; her long hair serving as a blanket to cover herself.
The silence lasted to the point of being uncomfortable. Then I noticed the Rabbi was squatted down, fiddling around in the dirt. What was he doing? Drawing?
"Teacher," one said in a tone of frustration, "everyone is waiting for you to respond. Did you hear what we told you? Do you know what this woman is? You tell us, how should we deal with her?"
Jesus stood up and brushed his hands off against his robe. Yes, he knew what the law of Moses said. He knew what this woman was- he seemed even to know who she was. "Whichever one of you is without sin, you cast the first stone at her" he responded. There was something about the look in his eyes that was mesmerizing. He had such compassion in his eyes, yet also such sadness. We exchanged glances across our circle, and saw that once again Jesus was squatted down in the dirt, writing.
The older Pharisees were standing closest to Jesus, and once they saw what Jesus was writing, they hastily walked away. They had a look of discomfort and vulnerability. I and the rest of the men moved closer to examine the dirt. Though I desperately wanted to carry out this act of God, to bring justice to this situation and to condemn this woman to death and hell as she so clearly deserved, I couldn't get myself to pick up a rock. I was paralyzed. Who was this Jesus? Why was he writing this? God, who is this man they call Christ? Why can't we stop him? Why do we feel the way we do when we are in his presence?
More men began walking away, staring at their feet as they walked. I turned to leave, and as I was walking home, a sea of emotions raging inside of me, I paused to hear what Jesus was now saying. He was standing now, and he put his hands on the woman's chin, drawing her eyes up to meet his. I heard him say with such gentleness and sincerity, "Dear woman, where have your accusers gone? Has no one condemned you?"
Through her weak sobs she struggled to hold eye contact with him. She stuttered as she ever so faintly responded, "N-no, no one sir."
They stood for another brief moment, staring at each other intently. Then Jesus wiped her tears with his hands, and said "Then neither do I condemn you. Go in peace, and sin no more."
Who was this Jesus? And why did I always feel the way I did when I was in his presence? I was not convinced that this Jesus was God, but he was definitely no ordinary man.
