Advent 20, 21, 22 & 23

These last days have been full of the things that make Christmas busy: Christmas concerts and preschool parties and dinner out and church and baking and making treats and driving around looking at Christmas lights with hot cocoa in the thermos.  And so there is a bit less time for writing it all down, but still enough time to make space for thoughtful gratitude.

This afternoon on the radio, a man spoke about how Christmas is celebrated and pointed out that Christmas is not a day, but a season.  And indeed, this year, more than any before it, Christmas has been a season for me. A season of peace, really and truly. There are a few fails along the way, where judgey awfulness gets the upper-hand, or the pace of consuming becomes more than my soul can bear and I consider panic. But most of the way to the manger has been slow and peace-full, quiet and thanksmaking.

The verses that have been the readings for the last four days tell the story of the Magi. Three kings who follow stars and can drop in on Herod for directions and have dreams they believe that make them defy him. These three men make their own journey to the manger, carrying what they have to give all the way there, so that they can agree with the shepherds and the angels and Mary and Joseph that God Is Come, Emmanuel.  God is With Us Now!

It is joy-making for me to know that deep in my heart, I am excited to celebrate that wonder with my kids through these next hours.  I will whisper to them, so that their hearts can hear it, that we are celebrating Jesus showing up.  We are giving gifts to remember the great gift given all those years ago.  We are gathering together to share what we have, to break bread and pour wine, because when two or three are gathered, the miracle happens again and Jesus says that's where he is too. We are celebrating Christmas in joy, together.

Christmas is my favourite.


Matthew 2: 1 - 12

2 After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem ² and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”
³ When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. ⁴ When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Christ was to be born. ⁵ “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written:

⁶ “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
    who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.’”

⁷ Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. ⁸ He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”
⁹ After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. ¹¹ On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh. ¹² And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

Advent 19

And he will be their peace.

I wish I knew a bit more about other religions on days like today. Because I find myself making assumptions based almost entirely on pretty biased information fed to me through my teen years, about what other religions say about who the creator might be.  One of those assumptions being that those other gods don't come with the offer of peace.

Certainly life doesn't.  America, it's own little religion, gets given the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, but never peace.  They're not lovers of peace, our cousins to the south.  Canadians used to think of themselves as peace-keepers but that's kind of old-fashioned thinking now, and anyway, peace-keeping should not be confused with peace-giving. Granted, I'm doing this in a hurry with only one cup of coffee on board, but off the top of my head, I can't think of anyone, or anything else that comes promising to Be Peace.

And this is on the list of reasons why it always comes back to Jesus for me.  This December as Christmas approaches, and always. A God that comes to be with us and to bring us peace.  I want to be in that boat, to steal a line from homegroup.

You?

Micah 5: 2 - 5

² “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
    though you are small among the clans^[b] of Judah,
out of you will come for me
    one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins^[c] are from of old,
    from ancient times.^[d]”

³ Therefore Israel will be abandoned
    until the time when she who is in labor gives birth
and the rest of his brothers return
    to join the Israelites.

⁴ He will stand and shepherd his flock
    in the strength of the Lord,
    in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they will live securely, for then his greatness
    will reach to the ends of the earth.
⁵     And he will be their peace.

Advent 17 & 18

Advent enthusiasm is waning as Christmas Day anticipation winds itself up. I forgot that part, where there would be other influences reminding my children Every. Damned. Day. that Santa's Coming! Santa's Coming! I have decided that it would be un-charitable for me to shout "Shut the FUCK up!" at every aunt, uncle, teacher, random stranger who asks one of my kids what Santa's going to bring them, but I'm tempted. Sorely tempted.

A lingering cold and a few underslept nights have not helped, but I press on.  Because this is where there is Life and Light and as it gets darker and darker out there, I am going to keep life and light close.  Seems smart, you know?

So two days worth.

Luke 2: 15 - 20

¹⁵ When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
¹⁶ So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. ¹⁷ When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, ¹⁸ and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. ¹⁹ But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. ²⁰ The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

Advent 16

Our Advent Activity today was celebrating my son. The day he was born was peaceful and the world was hushed by snow. His arrival was slow and sweet and I spent the next two days cozied up with him in the hospital while the world also slowed thanks to a storm not often seen in these parts. We walked home the next day, our first-born pulled on a sled with our bags and our newest slung against his father, sheltered by the jacket while the snow fell and fell and fell all around us.  It is such a blessing, this memory of his arrival and my heart is quieted every year on this day remembering it.

That boy is now four and ... and there aren't words for him. He is a kid that people just seem to love. Not merely like - people of all ages and spaces end up with crushes on this boy. I know I see through my Mom Eyes and we all know those eyes don't see clearly so I may have misunderstood how he lives in the world, but truly, he's That Guy. He just is.

He is funny and a story-teller and has a streak of kind with his sister that moves me. He is smart in a direction I don't have and understands how things work, complicated, hard-to-figure-out things.  He is handsome and wears pants well. He hugs like nobody's business and he says "I love you too Mom" every night at bedtime. He says thank-you at odd moments to all the right people.

He is light in this winter darkness and celebrating him is easy, every time.

Today when we read our Advent passage, we all noticed how yet again, the angels start with "Do not be afraid!" I love being able to underline that so much - God never talks to us in fear. Never. God's words to us are always, Don't Be Afraid.  This is a powerful word this week, isn't it? Don't be afraid.

In this case, the angels announce the good news, that a saviour has been born.  Surely the shepherds were thrilled.  But were they not a bit surprised to find out the Christ, the long-promised Messiah, would be found in the feed trough of a stable? That the very spot of his arrival in its un-kingly state would be the proof they needed that this was in fact The One?

I love this story so much! This is my God!

Luke 2: 8 - 14

⁸ And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. ⁹ An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰ But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. ¹¹ Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ^[a] the Lord. ¹² This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
¹³ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

¹⁴ “Glory to God in the highest,
    and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

Glory to God in the highest! Today and all days. Even the darkest nights. Glory to God!

Advent 15

So, I wrote down the wrong verses for today and I know they come again at the right time in a few days, so I'm leaving today blank on the Bible front.

On the activity front though, this.  Our mortgage broker hosted a Movie Morning at the local theatre, a showing of "The Polar Express" that included popcorn and drinks and treats and candy canes and Mrs. Claus and Santa Claus and elves.  So today's activity was Movies!

The movie is terrible. Terrifying and wholly unsuitable for small children. Possibly for all children. I'm hard-pressed to think of a good thing to say about it actually.

But the going? The treating? The giving? That part had me weepy in the theatre,as we waited for the lights to go down. Karen, our broker, could have sent a card. Had all the kids in the office sign it. If she'd been feeling oddly generous, she might have arranged a discount for customers or something.

But this Christmas, she spent considerable money and effort and created a memory moment for my family.  For any family she knew that wanted to take two hours out of this month of Busy and Too Much, she offered a dark theatre and a holiday tradition-in-the-making. I don't know why I took it so personally, but I did and felt like it was a gift thought up just for me.

As we sat in the almost-dark waiting for the lights to dim, The Light of the moment warmed me and I am so grateful.  So deeply grateful.

Amen.

Advent 14

Today.

Today 20 children were murdered in their classroom somewhere in Connecticut.

Today we were reminded that evil is not finished.

Today I find myself afraid that my God is useless, that my God is powerless and distinterested in five-year-olds.

Today I can make no excuses. I can make up no theology that allows for this, that explains why God can be God while broken young men murder children.

Today I crumble under the weight of the fear this world demands and wonder if I can ever allow myself to be carried by the hope my God offers again.

Today is dark.  So, so dark.

Luke 2: 6 - 7
⁶ While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, ⁷ and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Advent 13

We missed this day of activities, but we're good with it. Because we're just doing this life and making space to be together and look for light and be excited for what is ahead. The kids don't know what is missed, and can create all manner of anticipation on their own. And in the meantime, I get to rest in peace and remember the bits and pieces of The Story that brings that piece.

Joseph. Oh Joseph. So sidelined so often, but so central and so necessary.  He is the one who belongs to the House of David. He is the reason they return to Bethlehem and thereby allow the prophecy to be fulfilled. Remember friends, when you feel like you are surrounded by the Mary's and the Jesus's and you're just the lame loser following behind, remember that the Joseph's are the glue! the means! the way it all becomes possible.  It's good to be Joseph.

Luke 2: 1 - 5

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. ² (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) ³ And everyone went to his own town to register.
⁴ So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. ⁵ He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.

Advent 12

Christmas Tree Day!

It was underwhelming in many ways - we are on Day 3 of Kids At Home Sick with at least two more on the horizon thanks to the pernicious nature of The Virus. Happily, the virus that was passed on from pukers transmogrified itself into two very different versions of itself. Non-puking versions, so I'm thankful. But all this time at home in quiet convalescence has meant quieter everything else. Including a quieter Christmas Tree Day.

In the end, the boy went with his dad down to the grocery store.  No cutting down trees under the powerlines or in the front yard.  No family jaunt out to Langley or some other super-sustainable spot. Nope. Just a ride down the hill to the local purveyor of milk and bread and butter and trees.  Then home.

Now the trees settles itself outside and will be brought in on Friday night maybe. Maybe not. We'll ease into it, the way we've eased into all the rest of this Adventing and Christmasing and damn it, I think I'm going to like it.

I guess one thing about Mary's story of meeting the Saviour is that she got to ease into it too.  Three months with Elizabeth to get used to it all. Smart Mary.  Really smart.

Luke 1: 46 - 56

⁴⁶ And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord
⁴⁷     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has been mindful
    of the humble state of his servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed,
⁴⁹     for the Mighty One has done great things for me—
    holy is his name.
⁵⁰ His mercy extends to those who fear him,
    from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
    he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
⁵² He has brought down rulers from their thrones
    but has lifted up the humble.
⁵³ He has filled the hungry with good things
    but has sent the rich away empty.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel,
    remembering to be merciful
⁵⁵ to Abraham and his descendants forever,
    even as he said to our fathers.”

⁵⁶ Mary stayed with Elizabeth for about three months and then returned home.

Advent 11

A quiet day on the Advent front. I have a girl down with fever and so there is lots of doing nothing in these parts the last day or two. I like it so much.  Our activity today was to sing "Silent Night" in the dark at bedtime. It might have been beautiful had that girl not decided to use her post-meds burst of energy to belt out said lullaby a-la-American-Idol-early-auditions.  Wow. That was something.

Actually, it was awesome. Awesome to be building a lot of sweet memories with these people of mine. They are sweet and peaceful memories (for me! to be clear, we have no idea what memories my children are amassing) this year, not frenzied and guilt-ridden. Lord knows how long it will last, but every day we get through on our way to Christmas that I find my heart at rest and thankful is a mercy and a grace and I am deeply thankful.

Just like Mary and Elizabeth. They were so thankful, weren't they?

Luke 1: 39 -45

³⁹ At that time Mary got ready and hurried to a town in the hill country of Judea, ⁴⁰ where she entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. ⁴¹ When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. ⁴² In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! ⁴³ But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? ⁴⁴ As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. ⁴⁵ Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!”

Advent 10

God With Us.

We got to the God with Us part today! Poor Joseph, who got so ignored yesterday, fearlessly marries the suspiciously knocked up girlfriend and then agrees to name the babe, Immanuel, God With Us which somehow ends with the kid being called Jesus.

Names matter and we are reminded tonight that we are of a people who name with thought and consideration. And God, our God, chose a name that would remind the babe and everyone who came to know him, God Has Come to Be With Us.  This truth is at the centre of my faith - it is the reason I stay in the boat with Sarah and the rest of the fools - the secretish hope that Jesus is in the boat too.

The other thing I love in the story and that we're reminding of in this particular passage, is how required each person is in this story.  This isn't a story about Mary. Or about the baby particularly.  This is yet another story where God does what God does, drawing each person into the story to remind them that they are known and required and noticed and central while at the very same moment reminding them that they are not at all the point.  The story always comes back to God With Us. But the story happens With Us.  It's so mysterious and awesome and wonderful.  Joseph matters. The shepherds will matter.  Those three kings will matter.

I matter.

But mostly? Mostly God matters. See? The Giver, not The Gift.

Matthew 1: 22 - 25

²² All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ²³ “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.”
²⁴ When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. ²⁵ But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.

Advent 9: In Defense of Giving

Unless I turn into a REALLY clever writer in the next half-hour, poor Joseph is getting hijacked by a rant that has been brewing for a long time, but percolated to fullness this morning at church. Probably I should have been listening for the spirit, but the angry lady who lives in my head was louder.  Forgive us both.

But first the verses, just in case someone is really reading this for The Word(s) of Faith, and not my relentless self-interested drivel.

Matthew 1: 18 - 21

¹⁸ This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. ¹⁹ Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.
²⁰ But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. ²¹ She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

I will say this: I love how every time an angel shows up in this story, the first words are always, "Don't be afraid!"  Always.  There is not meant to be fear here.  Just good news.  If the message you hear at Christmas makes you afraid - afraid you're doing it wrong, afraid you'll miss the good parts, afraid you might be on the wrong side of it all - that message isn't God's message. I don't know who's it is, but it isn't God's.  God says, every time, Don't. Be. Afraid.

So, how to tie this to gifts? It's a trick and perhaps not to be done, but good fuck am I tired of presents becoming either The Most Important Thing or The Most Awful Thing.  Either we're being asked to buy presents (new unwrapped toys only please) for the poor in our first world nation, or we're being told to give up buying gifts altogether and instead just buy chickens and cows for the nameless poor we've never met but for whom we should be feeling badly for the next few weeks. 

I am UP IN ARMS I tell you! Up. In. Arms.

Somehow we have forgotten what the point of it all is - it is not about the Gifts!! It is about the Giver! We give to each other to do our best imitation of the Great Giver, the First Giver, the Only Giver Who Gives Well. We do it to remember how hard it is to get it right, to remember how hard it is do it with a warm, generous heart, to remember how much pleasure there is when we do find a way to get it a little right and give warmly and generously. 

We give to our children so that they will learn how to receive.  We coach them to look for the love that the gift is given from - that's why all kids in all time have learned to say thank you for even the ugly hand-made sweater from whoever finds the time to knit one! Because we are being thankful that someone, SOMEONE!!! someone loves us enough to try to bring us delight. 

If we decide our children have enough stuff and instead ask them to give up receiving and instead be glad to give to the nameless poor a million miles away, we teach them not generosity, but pity.  We teach them that their own needs are silly and unimportant, compared to the REAL need  somewhere out there that they've not yet seen.  Does God ever do that? Does God ever say, "You, you well-off okay person who is sad and lonely - there is someone sadder and lonelier so I'll be giving my best stuff to them and probably you should stop your boohooing and give to them too."  Nope. God doesn't.  Not one time does Jesus say to someone who stopped him for help, "You? you've already got enough! I'm saving my miracles for someone who needs it more."  Not one time. 

Because it turns out we all need.  The reason why it is so hard for a rich person to get into the Kingdom of Heaven is because it is so hard for them to see that they need anything at all.  But in fact, as anyone who has ever not found what they were waiting for under the tree knows, we all want something.  We all need something.  And our need for whatever that thing is infinite and bottomless and the source of all pain. A need not to be filled in this life. A need Jesus sees in each of us.

So, I get it. That's kind of deep and not so helpful at Christmas:  your kid doesn't need anything.  They have more than enough toys. More than enough books and clothes and sports equipment.  But your kid does need to know that they are noticed. That they are known. That what feels important to them is seen and cared about by the people they are longing to be seen by.  

Now the trouble is that in our world, all the focus has landed on The Gift and I join in with all I have to say nope, that's not it.  My children will not receive The Best Gift Ever from me. Nor will they be overwhelmed by the Too Much I Can't Focus under a magically lit tree when they wake up in the morning.  But they will receive a few small things that we can afford that tell them that we've noticed them and care about the things they love and enjoy. We will point out the love that is behind each gift received from aunts and uncles and grandparents.  And we will celebrate the wonder of being worthy of all that love.

And through all of this Advent that brings us to that morning, I'll be saying over and over, Jesus is the Gift that we're really waiting for.  Every time.  No gift will be the right one the way Jesus is the Right One. But all this anticipation and excitement? That's meant to remind us of how we should feel about the gift God has given in the giving of His Only Begotten Son.  (This is a borrow from last year's epiphany here).  

So give your children gifts, small modest ones that are a joy to receive and that do not demand being a source of eternal fulfillment.  Help your children give what they have to give to the people they've been asked to love.

And then relax. Please, just relax. It's meant to be good news. Good News.

Advent 8

"How can I be sure of this?" doesn't sound that much different from "How will this be?"  And yet.  And yet they are apparently different enough that one lands poor Zechariah in time out and the other gets Mary a "Good girl, all will be well."  I guess that really it's Gabriel who appears to be the fickle one - to Zechariah he says, "I AM GABRIEL. I SAID SO."  Maybe he was predisposed to dislike the guy as opposed to Mary who was already highly favoured before Gabriel even shows up.  Regardless, I think I will practice my "How will this be?" instead of carrying on with my "How can I be sure?"

I like how a little bit of diligence and sticking it out always proves useful when hanging out with the Word.  I can't think of a time a little lingering hasn't brought some Peace and Rest back to where Unruly Despair was threatening to move in.

Jesus is coming and once I can become a "How will these be" person, I intend to then start practicing being a "May it be to me as you have said" person.

Oh Advent.  Loving this.


Luke 1: 26 - 38

²⁶ In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, ²⁷ to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. ²⁸ The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”
²⁹ Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. ³⁰ But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. ³¹ You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. ³² He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, ³³ and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”
³⁴ “How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
³⁵ The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called^[c] the Son of God. ³⁶ Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. ³⁷ For nothing is impossible with God.”
³⁸ “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.

 

Advent 7

Well, it turns out that Zechariah doesn't believe the angel that tells him that his very, very old wife is going to have a baby.  Oddly, the kids were underwhelmed.

But I liked the part where John is sent ahead to prepare the way.  Because I like thinking about all this preparing. I like thinking about it because it's the part I get to keep for me and Jesus. Despite my ever-fragile-yet-intact faith, or maybe because of it, I like spending every day in December spending at least part of my day thinking about what it means for Jesus to show up instead of thinking about all the other parts of Christmas that are a bit less... lighty.

I don't have any other deep thought for today because I put my back out like the old lady I am and want to mostly feel sorry for me and maybe eat ice cream.

So yesterday and today's reading:

Luke 1: 11 - 25

¹¹ Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. ¹² When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. ¹³ But the angel said to him: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John. ¹⁴ He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, ¹⁵ for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even from birth.^{[b] 16} Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God. ¹⁷ And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
¹⁸ Zechariah asked the angel, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.”
¹⁹ The angel answered, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. ²⁰ And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time.”
²¹ Meanwhile, the people were waiting for Zechariah and wondering why he stayed so long in the temple. ²² When he came out, he could not speak to them. They realized he had seen a vision in the temple, for he kept making signs to them but remained unable to speak.
²³ When his time of service was completed, he returned home. ²⁴ After this his wife Elizabeth became pregnant and for five months remained in seclusion. ²⁵ “The Lord has done this for me,” she said. “In these days he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people.”

Advent 6

Fail.

Just didn't happen.  But my friend Sarah commented and wants to go to Alaska with me and my friend Karen commented and is more faith-full than most of my faithful friends and that feels like really good lovin' from the heavens so I'm going to rest in that this 6th day of preparing.

I will say this though: thinking of each day of this month, and all that each of those days as a day to prepare for Jesus showing up instead of thinking of it as a day to Get Ready For Christmas! in some kind of shopping-orgy, family-obligation, when-will-it-end kind of way is really nice.

Really nice.

Advent 5

Total cliffhanger this morning - T wanted to keep reading but I knew the rest of the story was tomorrow's reading so I made her live with the mystery.

Before I leave you hanging, I wanted to pass along that I am managing to weather Faith Crisis 2012 fairly well.  Mostly because at some point since my 19th birthday, I kind of decided I was at home aboard this ship of fools, and if we're all idiots, at least we're all idiots trying to figure out how to love a bit better and live like light people.  Isn't there something about the light being in the dark and the darkness doesn't understand it from a few days ago? My darkness doesn't understand the light sometimes, and it's totally possible it's a train and not Jesus afterall, but until I'm roadrunnered across the front of that train, I'm going to stick with the Jesus possibility and hope life is richer for it.  You know?

Also, Sarah is on the ship, and who doesn't want to be on a cruise with her?

So, back to the big adventure from the book of crazy we call The Word:

Luke 1: 5 - 10

⁵ In the time of Herod king of Judea there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly division of Abijah; his wife Elizabeth was also a descendant of Aaron. ⁶ Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly. ⁷ But they had no children, because Elizabeth was barren; and they were both well along in years.
⁸ Once when Zechariah’s division was on duty and he was serving as priest before God, ⁹ he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to go into the temple of the Lord and burn incense. ¹⁰ And when the time for the burning of incense came, all the assembled worshipers were praying outside.

See what I mean? Some homeschooler mom posted this list of verses I'm working from. I'm guessing she had an 8 year old boy desperate for some intrigue...

Advent 4

Advent may have taken a turn today. Probably just a temporary set back.

We read Jeremiah 33: 14 - 16.  I like Jeremiah a lot. I mean usually I really, really like it a lot.  But today I found myself pondering not the awesomeness of Jesus, but the hard-to-ignoreness of the part where he was kind of a let-down.  Isaiah and Jeremiah (and probably a few others) all mention this great Saviour coming and go on and on about how awesome he's going to be and how great it's going to be for Israel or Judah or Jerusalem and how his kingdom is going to go forever.

But it didn't.  It didn't even really start. And it's not really like it was ambiguous or a metaphor. The words say, "The government will be upon his shoulders" and "he will rule with righteousness and justice" or like today, "Jerusalem will live in safety".  Jerusalem isn't safe.  Hasn't been for years. I don't even think it was when Jesus lived, never mind when he died.

This afternoon, N. asked me to read from his kid bible, and we end up at the ascension, where Jesus says to his guys, the one he loves SO much: "Don't worry! Seriously. I'm going up to a heaven where I'm getting all the many, many rooms ready, and then I'll be RIGHT BACK!"

It's been about 2000 years.

I can't help but think somewhere in the cosmos, some version of the heavens is shaking its head and saying, "I can't believe they fell for it."

A major faith crisis is probably not really the ideal Advent outcome. I'm not really going to indulge it because I'm not-yet-but-almost-40 and who has time for that any more.  But I sure wish one my pastory, learned type friends would pass on something comforting about how it is that we've gone this long believing that Jesus is the Truth when it would appear to anyone doing a very basic reading of the text, that he was kind of a liar pants.

So, fingers crossed for something catchy and faith-assuring tomorrow. Until then, I leave you with Jeremiah.

Jeremiah 33: 14 -16

¹⁴ “‘The days are coming,’ declares the Lord, ‘when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah.
¹⁵ “‘In those days and at that time
    I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line;
    he will do what is just and right in the land.
¹⁶ In those days Judah will be saved
    and Jerusalem will live in safety.
This is the name by which it will be called:
    The Lord Our Righteous Savior.’

Advent 3

This day's Adventing was a bit complicated.  The passage itself was complicated, but my heart was complicated too.  We'd been at a holiday party the night before and it became a night that left me feeling Not Right this morning. I've had a hard time pinning down exactly what was Not Right about it all but at the end of it, I think I just felt... sinful.  Such a hard, not-used word in my life. But maybe accurate.

Mostly certainly there was no righteousness. Or at least very little of it. And as I read today's passage again tonight, it occurs to me that if there is no sin, no brokeness, then there's no need for Jesus. He wouldn't have had to show up if we were all getting it right, you know? And last night I didn't get it all right. And there was no fix for it, save confessing and repenting and leaning into Jesus with a contrite heart.  I would rather have been awesome last night, but I find myself gladdened to see that indeed all things do work for good and that even my mis-steps still step me closer to Jesus.

Today's passage is super long, so I'm only typing the first few verses but all of it was good, good, good. I am finding all this time in the Bible illuminating, maybe because I do it so rarely.  Regardless, it turns out that this little Bible of mine feels like home. Still.

Isaiah 11: 1 - 10

A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him - the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of power, the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord - and he will delight in the fear of the Lord. (1 - 3)

Advent 2

More Advent! Our mornings this weekend have been opening our day's advent card, finding out what our activity will be (things already planned and must-dos that are now Advent-dos) and then reading the Bible verse.  I have realized that I have never read to my kids from a "real" Bible until now - we've only ever read children's bibles together.  So not only do we hear the Good News but my kids are finding out how the Bible is set up and what chapters and verses are... I feel a bit bad-mother-y for not having shown them a bit sooner.

Anyway, once we've found and read the verse, we get to hang up one of the decorations on Grandma Johnson's Advent Calendar and suddenly our morning has had Christmas anticipation, the Word and Family! So great.

And so, today's meditation:

Isaiah 9: 2 - 7

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as people rejoice when dividing the plunder.

For as in the day of Midian's defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor.
Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. 

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulders.
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.
He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.

I could go on and on and on.  This passage made my heart glad.  Deep-down glad. I hope we all know what sweet relief and joy it is to be walking in darkness, in the shadow of death even, and to see, finally, a great light.  To see light dawning.  We do feel bigger, more of our own selves and our hearts rejoice, leap and dance with the goodness of it all.

That's what Jesus coming is! That light, the light that saved you, that light is Jesus showing up. Every time. Probably even if we think that light is the right medication or a restored friendship or a child becoming possible, probably that's all still Jesus.

And once Light comes, we get to burn all the stuff that got wrecked while we stumbled around in the dark.  I think I so often keep a few mementos of that journey, you know, just in case I need that outfit or those boots for later.  But this Light - This Light. This Light is everlasting and the promise is we can be done with all of the rest.  I don't know how to make sense of this when I think about how regularly I re-feel the darkness, but I like wondering about it.

And then I like remembering who arrives! A child.  A wonderful counselor - the source of all wisdom and True. Mighty God. Everlasting Father. Prince of Peace.  Peace.  A strong, always-around source of our rest. That's who we get. That's who we're waiting for all over again, and then receiving again.  That is who we celebrate.

Finally, these last verses are always to me, the part that explains everyone who can't bring themselves to love Jesus:  doesn't this say he will take over the whole government? doesn't this say his kingdom will be upheld forever? That day Jesus died and he wasn't in charge of anything and all the people who loved him were left empty-handed and not in power and not in charge and not kingdom-makers - that day, this felt like a lie.

Again, I don't really know how to explain that one. I'm quite certain super-smart scholarly types have really good books about it all. What I do know is the promise that living in Jesus' kingdom means living under justice and righteousness - that part is Good News to this heart.

Good News indeed.

Advent 1

Advent! December first is the first day of the season set aside for preparing for Jesus to arrive and the first day of holiday-people-management.  I so love the one and so fail at the other.  These two opposites collide and wiley Jesus does what he does with a paradox and meets me right in the middle of their debris.

And so, I will walk my heart and mind into the waiting for Jesus part and hopefully walk them out of the rest and so get to Christmas day full of celebration and thanksgiving instead of despair and hopelessness.  Light! Light is coming and so I'll keep my eyes open for the cracks and creases through which it is making its way and most surely, be better for it.

Care to join me?

John 1:15

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.  Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of humanity. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."

The light shines in the darkness.  That's what is on its way: a light that makes no sense to my darkness, to this world's darkness.

What wonder! What reason for praise!

Light I saw today: the generous giving to children at a Christmas party; a friend answering the phone to tell me I will get through the hilarity that is this time of year; my husband's dad having a second of sad doing one more thing without his wife, the woman who loved all of this.  Light is sneaking in. May I have eyes to see it.

Amen.

Joylight

I am loving this time of year.  So much.  I've got me some Joys going on.  I love all this dark that makes the light so necessary, that has me watching so closely for new light to sneak into all that early-arriving, slow-to-leave dark.  The light comes in the morning, red and orange and pink. It arrives saphire with hints of green in the early evening.  It arrives in an explosion of bright at the end of a match and then shares itself with the short wicks of my Ikea tea lights.  It reflects off unexpected surfaces and every time, it makes my heart glad.  And oddly, it leaves me loving the dark.  Because of course, without all this dark, how would I see the light?

At the very same time, I find myself slowly crawling out of the darks, or did I call them the Bleaks? Whatever their name, it is that dank and dingy spot at the bottom of my soul where it's hard to see what good or right or worthwhile.  So often it's just horomonal residue that blocks the light, but always - heavy and awful.  And temporary.  I think at the time I even said, I mostly know, so temporary.

But now, as we inch into Advent and train our hearts to prepare for The Light that is coming, all that dark creaks and cracks and the light starts to sneak back in.  And it is the best kind of magic.

There is light sneaking in to being mom this week, little spots of light that illuminate their hilarity, their sweet kindnesses to each other, their okay-ness. There is light sneaking into church-life, cracks in the wall I built between me and community for a few years, cracks that light wiggles through, landing on love and togetherness.  Light is sliding under the door to our marriage, and the room becomes brighter with gentleness and gratitude.  Light is bending around the corner of my journey from wanting to being, and I find myself being a bit more disciplined, a bit more active, a bit more faith-full.

All this light. It's Jesus coming! Jesus is coming and we get to spend days and days remembering together what a good gift that is, all that Light showing up right in the middle of the darkest dark, right when we all thought all was lost, that there was not another reason to squint at the was-it-always-dark horizon.  Right then, Jesus showed up, and keeps on showing up.

It is joy for me. Every time. 

Growing Up

Most of my life, I walk through the day feeling about 17.  Then sometimes, 27.  But mostly 17. 

I was in line at the liquor store this week, and the woman in front of me was asked for ID.  And as she pulled out her drivers license and smirked at her date, it hit me: "I'm not going to get ID'd."  Like not even close. One wine store has a sign that says "We ID anyone under 30."  That was 10 year ago.  Ten.  Okay, well, nine.  But nine is basically 10, so yeah, TEN YEARS.

One thing about 30 being 10 years ago is that even though I feel all 17 and inexperienced and not to be taken seriously and beginnery, in fact, I do kind of know what I'm doing.  There are not too many situations left where I am completely clueless.  And I forget that feeling capable is one of the benefits of all that experience I've accumulated. 

I am capable of raising children and registering them for swimming lessons and helping them when they aren't capable themselves. I am capable of apologizing when I am wrong and I am capable of redress and restoration. I am capable of research and answer finding and more importantly I am capable of recognizing when I need to do some research and answer finding. I am capable of saying how I feel in a big-girl voice. I am capable of letting things go and holding on to what matters.  I am capable of knowing the difference.

The difficulty is the gap between being capable and feeling capable. Walking through this life feeling 17 means that I often bump into situations where I ought to be capable, but I've forgotten that I am and so I act as though I am not and then chaos ensues. Or at least misery for someone near me.

As I edge to being more of who I have been hoping I might one day be, I bet remembering that I am capable is going to helpful.

Prolific

Right now, this is all about volume. Just getting words down. Because sometimes wanting to be a writer is no substitute for actually you know, writing.

There is much in life that is like this. Maybe all of life is like this.

I have heard before about how we ought to stop with all the thinking and really get down to the doing. I am saying it differently for me this year: I want to stop with all the wanting and really get down to the being.

Some of this is about living in the moment and being present and all that mumbo jumbo.  But a lot of it is about figuring out the nature of change.

It is really, really, really difficult to convince someone else to change their minds. It turns out most of us want to stay just the way we are.  Fucking Mr. Rogers - look what he's created.  All of us sure and certain that what we think and how we act as a result is perfectly fine.

But of course, we're not perfectly fine.  Most of us could use some fine tuning. Many of us could use a major overhaul. And yet we're so reluctant, so reticent to make any adjustment at all because to do so would require first the concession that just the way we are is maybe kind of... crappy.

But to change how we are being, we have to change how we are thinking. In case that's not clear, we have to change our mind.  Which brings it back to the part where it's really, really, really difficult to convince someone else to change their minds.  The only thing harder is convincing our own selves to change our own minds.

Right now, I'm trying to change my mind about a few things:  writing, exercise, marriage, parenting, church.  I have tried for a few years now to read new things and talk to new people and even write new things on all of these, but so far my mind is mostly still the same.  So this time, I'm going with being differently.  I'm starting with writing to see if writing more often will change my mind about whether or not I'm a writer. Next week I'm going to try exercising to see if being someone who strengthens her body will actually make me strong.

I'll let you know how it goes.  If my mind can be changed... well, maybe I'll be friends with Mr. Rogers after all.

We're Richer Than We Think

Today the kids and I stopped at our snack spot for some smoothie and banana bread.  I paged through the local daily and the boy asked what I was reading about.  As it turned out, the teaser was "The Vanishing Middle Class" and the article was summarizing a recent study that shows that since 1970, poverty and affluence have each and both deepened and moved, with poverty suburbanizing and affluence taking over city centres and of course, all the nice parts.

Once I explained what the word "vanishing" means, I then I had to reassure the boy that we weren't going to disappear: no matter what, we're still visible, our little family.

Next was giving the preschool version of class divisions: the rich are the people who have more than they need and the poor are the people who don't have what they need and the middle class are the people who are just right.  And then I did my quick sermon about how the world works best when the people who more than they need can share with the people who dno't have what they need.

And then my girl said, "We're rich, right mom?"

Right.

Here

One friend is celebrating the 10 year anniversary of her first child's birth-death.  Celebrating seems like an awkward word for such a day, and yet, celebration it is.  A celebration of a life needing to be remembered and a celebration of all the good life that has been lived ever since that day when it seemed certain there could be no good life left.

Another friend is hunkered down with her beloved, grieving a death in which he is too entangled, a death that came from nowhere but is now taking up all the space everywhere. 

It is a day that feels a bit heavier than usual - November is full of them I guess.  There is a lot of hard that happens for people I love in November and maybe it's a grace that the days are short so there is less daylight to be ruined by the ugh of it all.

Right in the middle of all this dark and bleak though, is my favourite holiday - American Thanksgiving. Right in the middle of being certain that the sun is not be seen again, right in the middle of reliving the deaths of dearly beloveds and the birthdays of newly-gones, right in the middle of all this dark is a day of thankfulness and celebration. 

Thank God.

I'm going to make a turkey this year. I'm going to celebrate it, the one holiday left where gifts aren't exchanged but where every American person I know goes out of their way to be with the ones they love to share a meal and then play.  Or relax. Or play then relax.  But always a meal, and always with, and never gifts.  I'll ignore the part where they're polluting it with Black Fridays and Target being open on Thursday.  I'll ignore the ugly so that my heart can enjoy the goodness of being Thankful right in the middle of this mess.

And then the day after? the day after I'll start my advent advent.  I'll bring out a few more candles.  I'll hang the Advent calendar on the wall.  Maybe put some green on the mantle.  And we'll start easing our way to the the darkest night that brings with it The Light.  And I'm going to sink into all of it with my freshly grateful heart and let the dark be so that I can see The Light.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Saturday

I want to write about a sermon I heard today that was so familiar and good newsy.  I want to write because I think that just the writing of it would make me a better person, being all disciplined and all.  But I've got nothing to say that doesn't sound trite and awful.  So I'm posting something in the spirit of discipline, but that's all.  Not going to go wrecking a perfectly good sermon with my shit writing.

Life Comes

Life comes.  I said that today to a friend and then remembered that it's true. It's true in my life, over and over, that life comes.  Chasing after things, deciding to worry things into being, forcing doors open... this is not how life works for me.  I know because I've tried all those things, over and over.  And they change nothing about what ends up happening.  What comes comes no matter how I spend the time between.  Or just, no matter how I spend time.

So free me. I'm so free.  Free to let life come. And life with what arrives.

This is today's good news.

*Edit: I published this entry, flipped over to twitter and found this: C. S. Lewis ‏@CSLewisDaily

To know what would have happened, child? No. Nobody is ever told that. But anyone can find out what will happen. #Aslan  God makes me laugh.

Chickens are Always Funny

I have never had the above proven wrong.  Ever.  If a person knows to include chickens at the beginning, I know they're going to be funny my-people people.

Apparently, my recent spate of pasting have been a tad... bleak? dark? heavy? Things aren't as bad as I've made them seem though. I mean, they were terrible for a few days there, but not Send-Drugs-and-Ham bad.  Just regular, too-bad-about-all-that-estrogen bad. 

So tonight, as I try to keep up this new discipline up, in lieu of me, I give you some of my favourite writing in a long while.  My friend Laura sent it today, and it made me laugh and then groan with envy that I didn't write it myself.

Nope, not failing here.

Breathe In, Breathe Out

I may love funerals too much.  Although to be clear, I love Jesus-y funerals, not just any old funeral.  Same as weddings - I'm always a bit sad when Jesus isn't in the mix. But that's a rant for another day.

Today, we celebrated Auntie Irene's life. Hers was a long one.  Half-a-decade shy of a century. She was lovely and sweet, a knitter of sweaters for every single cousin and aunt and uncle I have on that side of the family.  Even T-Bird had an Auntie Irene sweater.  They were legendary. 

And now she has died.  After a long life, full of the good and the hard, and the impossible and the so sweet. She did all the things this life required and died as we all will.  And it was good and right to spend an afternoon remembering the stories of that life, hearing her children love her, and seeing yet again that I am part of a family that passes down faith.  We get blue eyes and faith in our family and sometimes I forget that it's not just me that looks in the mirror and sees a light-eyed Jesus lover.  There are dozens of us.  It's takes the edge off the lonely, you know?

There was some young whippersnapper leading the service and I was tempted to look down on him because he was young but then he started talking and said one of those things that tucks itself in a corner of me and lingers.  "Irene would breathe in the nutrition of God and breathe out a life of service and the rhythm just repeats itself over and over and over."  Poor man. He said it much more poetically I think - I most certainly have a word wrong, so the quotation marks are a lie, but maybe we can call them gist-of-it marks?  Regardless, he caught a truth about my great-aunt but a better truth about this life of ours:  breathing in and out is about all that's required in this life of ours and if we keep breathing in Jesus, we can not help but breathe out love of our neighbours.  When we start breathing out anything less, we should probably check what we're breathing in.

My Auntie Irene's life was a picture of faith - loving her neighbours as herself, all the time. She could not do otherwise.  And that is our inheritance.  That it would not be squandered.

The Darks

I don't like when I can't see straight. I find it difficult to remember what is true and I start to believe the voice that tells me all the things that leave me feeling like shit.  The difficulty is that the voice isn't telling untruths: I am after all, flawed. It's just that most days, I can also hear the voice that tells me that my flaws aren't the only part, and I'm able to remember the part where it's better to live in the gooder truths than in the shittier ones.

But on the days when I can't hear it all and only hear half... those days are dark.  I am old enough now to be able to remember that these days don't last. But while they're here, they're long.

We Forgot

I'm watching a show about Hiroshima. It's horrifying what we've done to each other, we humans.  But we have photographs and film and paintings and words to remind us. We keep track and we organize it all into bits and pieces to show each other and remind ourselves of the deep, deep evil we have made.

And yet, still humanity repeats and remakes and reshapes our evil into new, newly awful versions of itself.  We can meet in the streets for two minutes of silence once a year but that is not enough to keep us from giving life to the violence of our hatred and un-love. It is hope-less making.

It is equally hopeless-making that year after year that evil is redeemed and still we despair.  Good lives, long after the evil dies, time after time, and still we believe that evil is the truth and goodness the lie.

This week I begged the heavens that what was not could become What Is.  And now What Is is what I thought could not be.  Not in any way that I thought it should be, but most certainly in a way that I thought was not to be. And so I write it down, that our God is good and is the creator of all that is, and that all that is is Good and As It Should Be so that I will have a place to look when I forget.

Because it turns out we forget.

I forgot.

Muscle Failure

There is a big space between who I want to be and who it turns out I am most days.  It's not a terribly unusual problem I don't think, and doesn't set me apart from anybody who thinks just a tiny bit.  I think that gap is often the source of ambition and drive and hope even.  It is the negative space that allows imagination to imagine the next positive space. Or something like that.

A problem I'm having is that a lot of who I plan to be next I've said I'll be when I turn 40. I won't bore you (or embarass myself) with the list, but it's pretty lengthy and is going to require some significant overhall of several major systems if I'm going to pull it off. 

I was innocently reading the North Shore News today and some personal trainer dude got to write a whole column about how he's going to the world finals or something for the Tough Mudder. He's pretty excited. But anyway, as he's explaining how he started tough mudding, he says something like, I decided I wanted to be in the best shape of my life when I turned 40. 

Oh fuck me.

I have realized tonight that I may have to actually prepare for the many, many things I intend to having going on for me in my 40s.

I start feeling a bit hopeless and overwhelmed right about now.  It feels impossible to add more to this life of mine, although I'm not altogether sure why.  I have time and space and even sometimes some money.  But adding things just requires a More of Something that I just don't think I have.  So then I try to reframe it so that I'm not adding anything but just adapting things that already are.  But that still asks for that More of Something I just don't have.

And it occurs to me that that Something is a courage-thing.  It's a willingness to be brave and do something differently. 

It's unlikely.

I'm not sure what will come, or what 40s will look like. But I'm going to pretend that writing more often is the beginning of a discipline that might strong up whatever muscle it is that I need to do the next thing.

I'll let you know.

Why Can't We All Just Disagree?

It's going to be Rememberance Day this weekend.  It's a really big deal in Canada, not so much in the United States.  I always missed it when I lived in New Jersey - the shivering cold and rain making us all stand a tiny bit closer to honour the many who over the course of history have had to be part of war-making in all its horror and grimness.  The solemn applause of the many gathered as those men and women march by moves me, every time.  The deep quiet of the moment of silence seems like the only quiet left in this loud world of ours.  I don't think everyone there knows it, but the groaning of our hearts remembering the cost of war is prayer and it seems right and good to come together in the street to pray and beg God to bring peace.

Watching the US elections this week, I was very thankful to be home in Canada and not still in the political shit show that is America.  I was struck that America really, really loves war.  Sure there is the whole military-industrial complex gorging itself on as many conflicts and police actions and terrorist-seeking melees as it can get.  But more upsetting is what appears to be every citizen's desire to be at war with their neighbour.  I watched people who share communities and counties and states say terrible things about each other because of a disagreement on the best way to proceed for the next four years.  I read stories written by people I know and care about congratulating themselves for shaming and ridiculing people who align themselves differently on questions of policy.  Policy.  Good fuck.

It may be an over-statement to call this war.  But it is most certainly not peace-making.

My not-cheering self knows that there is no prize for Being Right in my marriage.  It is clicheed but nevertheless true that it is always better to choose Relationship over Right if we want to stay in that relationship.  I find it painfully difficult to let go of my fondness for being right though, and thus 10 years later, I'm still quick to undermine Relationship for the cheap thrill of a well-timed See?! I was right... 

There is no life in Right but there is the promise of life in Righteousness.  Jesus says that people who are hungry for righteousness will be filled right up.  Not rightness so much though.  People who hunger and thirst for being right - they're never full.  They'll never be satisfied or at rest or content.  But righteousness? righteousness is on offer - we can know peace if we're on the hunt for that one.

Righteousness is tricky though - it's hard to even pin down what it means.  Whatever it is exactly, it isn't something that we do; it's something that we are given (if you can stand Paul, try reading Romans 9, right at the end). And then having received it, we live it and do some justice and act with mercy and walk humbly.

And if we get it, and then live it, we probably don't worry about much else.  We don't worry about who's in charge of the American government because whoever they are will be as broken and wrong as we are most days.  And we don't worry about who was right about how to handle that dude at work because whoever was right is still as broken and wrong as their spouse is most days.  And it is better and good to live together chasing down righteousness and living out justice and mercy in humility than it is to live alone. Right?

Cheerleaders

Shortly after we got married, a person who saw our early-marriage up close told me I needed to be my beloved's cheerleader. I'm pretty sure it was her way of saying, "Stop being such a bitch!"  I lean to the corrective and fault-pointing-out-ish and that can look kind of... mean.

It probably is.

Almost 10 years later, I find I am quick to chastise myself for not being that cheerleader.  I think I actually believed her at the time. But I could never do it. There seems to be no part of me willing to take on that role. Tonight I figured out why.

Cheerleaders are idiots.

They may make great wives, but cheerleaders to me are the girls interested in being decoration instead of participants. They're the ones who chose their "sport" because they get to wear short skirts in front of boys. They're the ones who don't care what the play is, as long as they can spell it between clapping sequences.  It's possible I have them filed wrong, but alas, it's my filing system so fuck it.

So I don't cheer. And often I don't even do those little golf claps. I'm the one on the sidelines with my arms crossed, shaking my head slowly and saying "Really? Realllllly? that was your best effort?"  It's a miracle he hasn't quit actually.  And likely that he won't let me attend any of our children's sporting efforts.

But know this: my unwilling as I am to cheer, I am unrevocably on his side. Maybe too much. I want him to win.  I want other people to admire the awesomeness I said "I do" to (and then frankly, admire me for being smart enough to say it).  I want him to get the blue ribbon, the gold medal, the highest spot on the podium because I'm so sure that he is the best one out there. But he doesn't need me to cheer him on for that does he?

Does he?

Caesar's

"Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's."
 Matthew 22:21

I'm not sure exactly how, but I'm pretty sure this is the verse I'm meant to meditate on tonight as I watch the US elections results roll in on TV and Facebook and Twitter.  I am getting second by second updates that threaten to overwhelm me.

But truly, there is no wrong outcome here. Deep in my heart I know this. All of this is Caesar's.  And my heart worries about God's stuff, not Caesar's. My job is to live loving God and loving my neighbours while Caesar does what Caesar will. I will give Caesar what is (his): my vote, my taxes, my respectfulness.  But that's kind of all.

So vote on my American friends. I will be here thankful that no one expects Canadians to go out and gather for election results - we're usually too busy watching American TV.

Miracles

I've spent the morning begging the God I love to make what is not possible Possible. It requires my brain to bend in a direction that kind of hurts a bit.  On the one hand, I need things to be other than they are and there is no way that they can be other than they are short of a supernatural intervention. On the other hand, it is not possible for things to be other than they are so why set up God to let me down? Why ask for what one can not have? Is it not better and wiser and more strategic to ask for what will be, or at least to want what will be? Of course it is. 

And yet my heart begs.  All morning, beseeching and nagging and murmuring. Because it turns out that if the Bible is to be believed, the Creator of All Things does a side business in the Not Possible and has been known to intervene. Or has at least been given credit for intervening.

Oh, heart, what to believe?

Only that if what is not possible becomes what happens, it will be to God's Glory as all of creation is intended to be.  And if what is possible and so not wanted is what remains, then that too is apparently going to be to God's Glory and my heart will find a way to be thankful still.

And so I will keep on with my beseeching and nagging and murmuring, all the while holding the outcome loosely.

Oh hope, what a tricky journey this is...

Turnin' Round the Sun

I'm never sure if I'm meant to celebrate what I've survived the previous twelve months or what I hope the next twelve will bring.  Either way, I sure do love my birthday. I love all the good gifts the day brings - extra love from the ones I love, special treats and mostly just warm gratitude for all of it. Really.  I am most often thankful on my birthday and that is my favourite thing - a day when it's easy to see the good is pretty great.

Over the course of the last year we have done lots of hard things. Really awful hard, and oh my word why do we have to do this hard.  But we also got to do lots of great - lots of great play and lots of great togetherness and lots of great stooping.

We are surrounded by goodness.  Our kids, our friends, our neighbours, our work, our home, our boat, our faith.  Our hope.

It's all really good.

On this next turn round the sun, here's hoping I can see it all this clearly more often.

The Show

My neighbour just came by to share a jacket her boy has grown out of and my boy might want to wear. By the time she left, I knew about friends with new babies who are suffering with the newness and hardness that comes with new babies, but with a bit of extra hard thrown in; and then about some other moms who are sick, sick, sick with scary cancers that will probably rob their children of a mother in the end - three of them! Or maybe it was four when we counted the mom we know from down the street who died this summer.  Plus the dad of the boys up the street who's funeral we were at on Saturday...

I get to watch all this awful from a pretty safe distance. It's mostly like 3D TV, if I'm honest. These are people I know, people I share a street with or some history with.  But they are not me. Their lives are not my life, they're just stories I watch with a bit of dread, a lot of sad and then a bucket-full of gratitude: Thank Fuck It's Not Me.

Anne Lamott has a new book coming out. I think it's called "Help Thanks Wow". It's about prayer. I don't know that I need to read more. Because after my neighbour left, I sat on my couch and ran the shows of these women through my mind while my heart just whispered Help. Thanks. Wow.  Over and over and over.

There's nothing else. And when I end up with a bit more space to linger and write, I will write more about the great comfort of Help, Thanks, Wow.  And about the Shit Show we call this life. 

Coming Soon.

Welcome

You know, sometimes life is just fucking inconvenient. Life is not making things easy, you know? I just want to be able to be a different version of me this week, a me that handles busy-ness and obstacles and stress and deadlines with a bit more cool and at ease.

I'm not being that Me.

That me would have not needed to be told to just write right this minute.

This me was told.  This me read this article and wanted to write about it and whined that I couldn't and then That Friend told me to do it anyway.

So I here I am.

And I'll say this quickly because I can't do more than that this minute: writing like hers makes me weep. Weep with gratitude mostly.  Gratitude that someone thinks of something and can write in a way that I can read. In a way that lets me hear what is being Said by The Sayer of All Good News: I am welcomed. Even this version of me is welcomed.

Imagine that.

I think about the why's of this faith of mine a lot.  A good friend is devout in her atheism and our conversations are so good and thought-provoking but they poke in the places where I feel silly for deciding this story is the one I'll hang my hat on. The whole thing is so ludicrous and foolish.  Who believes this shit??

I do.

I believe it and it makes my heart better because holy shit! Our God is a God who loves the mess. There is room for me. Room for this version of me.  And then that lets me make room for you.  For the messy version of you that actually kind of pisses me off if we sit too close together.  There is room for that you and even the me that is judgey and awful.

And so I cry because even though I haven't read much of the Bible lately, and my prayers are of the distracted thoughts aimed at Heaven variety, and I don't go to church and I am not at all disciplined or anything resembling Trying... I cry because despite all that, I still find my heart wanting to sink into the welcome, I still get all hungry for it.

And that hunger, that is my faith really.  That I still want to live there, that's where I rest.

Stupid Kids' Worship Music

Oh boy. Nothing makes me want to write like crap theology, and nothing has more crap theology than kids' worship music. Actually, I think just the phrase "worship music" might be crap theology even.

Probably I'll write a lot about this soon.  Maybe on October 1st.  NvK has said she might start back in and if she does, I might.  I'm a follower like that.

For now I'm just going to rant in my head about how hard it is to parent in faith when faith is a big grey mess and small brains need lots of black and white.  Those fundies may have known what they were doing after all, huh?  A little For Sure would be a real help at a time like this.

Three Things

I know a rad gardner who also writes cool things and thinks cool things and often pretends that I write and think cool things too.  I think it is safe to say that when we first met each other 15 years ago, we would not have anticipated being such big fans of each other in 2012.  This is one of the things that is great about this life: we don't get left with our 25-year-old brains (or hearts for that matter) (although I'd take the body and skin back...) and if we are willing, we get to get wiser and collect the best parts of a lot of people our 25-year-old selves didn't know to collect.

Anyway, today she posted this awesomeness here.  And it really made me want to see if I had my own answers and so here I am writing for the first time in what feels like a long time and I like it. I don't even know yet what I'm going to write down, but I'm already just full of Thank You to NvK for inspiring this attempt.

So Three Things I Want For My Kids:

1) A Willingness To Give Faith a Fair Shot. Or alternately, At Least A Deep-Tucked-Away-Knowing That God Thinks They're Awesomesocks.

My sweet husband's mom died 18 days ago.  I find myself saying "mystery" and "I don't know" a lot. I think I am supposed to tell them she's safe in one of many rooms with Jesus in Heaven eating calorie-free petit fours from the Bon-Ton and then mostly singing awesome songs.  I love Jesus like crazy and am hoping against hope that Heaven is a real experience for this soul but you know, I won't die of shock if it turns out I got it all wrong. And so, it makes me loathe to tell my people anything definitive about God. I realize this makes me a not-magazine-profile-worthy Christian mom, but I just can't do it. Except for the part where I am certain the Creator loves them truly and deeply and is paying attention to their lives. And that I'm willing to invest a lot in the promise of Presence, the promise that God Godself will show up and that that showing up will make a difference. Every time.  I can tell them that part.  And I can hope that my constant chatter about who I imagine God to be and who Jesus keeps being all over that Bible of ours will lodge itself in the nooks and crannies of their cerebellums and just kind of soak into who they are. I can hope that.  And then maybe even want that.  I want that.

2) An Ability to Build a Community:

This life is a trick and it feels lonely, a lot. What sucks is when we're really, truly Alone and really truly Lonely at the same time. The only solve I know for this is community.  The community may include a spouse or children. It may include neighbours and school friends. It may include drinking buddies and church-makers (and what sweetness when those are the same people!). It may include your preschool table-sharer and the lady in line at the grocery store last night. Whoever is in the circle becomes a Life-Giver and a Hope-Maker and a Reason-To-Not-Quit and we do so much better with a collection of people to love us this way.  But community-building isn't natural or easy for all souls and so I really want to somehow help my people learn how to do this so that when they find themselves Lonely, they'll need not be Alone and when they find themselves Alone, they'll not feel so Lonely.

3) To Chew With Their Lips Closed.

I'm with NvK.  We will not be able to live together much longer if a certain pair of preschoolers don't get this figured out. Stat.

Lent: Day 6

Did I mention that Cap is only forwarding 4 reading a week? Kind of a Lent Lite? Just in case you thought I was lazy.

Today's reading:

Genesis 9:8-17

 ⁸ Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him: ⁹ “I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you ¹⁰ and with every living creature that was with you—the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals, all those that came out of the ark with you—every living creature on earth. ¹¹ I establish my covenant with you: Never again will all life be destroyed by the waters of a flood; never again will there be a flood to destroy the earth.”

 ¹² And God said, “This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: ¹³ I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. ¹⁴ Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, ¹⁵ I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life. ¹⁶ Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth.”

 ¹⁷ So God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant I have established between me and all life on the earth.” 

When I went to summer camp, we learned a song sung to the tune of the theme song from "The Friendly Giant" with the words, When you see a rainbow, you know that God is love. 

I like that in the Bible, there is one concrete proof of Love mentioned and that it's one that is still useful today, in that tangible, "Yep I can see that" kind of way.  Right this second, I can't think of one other item we can use directly today as they did back when all this stuff was written. 

God is Love. God promised not to destroy all life. No matter what we did, from that day on, Destruction Of All By Flood was off the list.  At least there's that. 

To be honest, I feel a bit destroyed to night. But not all the way destroyed. This flood won't be my end. And God is Love.  That's the promise and I can think of a half-dozen days in the last 6 months that a rainbow has shown up and reminded me that the promise stands. I could use a rainbow tonight, or maybe just some clarity about how God being love could possibly make a difference - it's hard to see somedays, you know?

Oh boy. Nothing good here tonight.  Stupid Lent.