Showing posts with label stars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stars. Show all posts

Friday, December 23, 2011

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Sometime just prior to Halloween I heard my first Christmas carol of the season. It flipped a switch inside of me and I was ready for Christmas.

Of course, my gifts weren't purchased and I was pleasantly surprised to feel 40 degree days rather than the 4 below I was expecting, but all through November I waited anxiously for the snow and for the rest of the world to be ready to play Christmas songs.

Yet now it's the night before Christmas, the tree is decorated, the gifts are wrapped, the last of the cookies are in the oven, and the snow gently falling. But I am ready to put on the brakes.

Christmas isn't the most wonderful time of the year when you're unemployed. Rather, it's a brutal reminder of your lack of income, your need to pinch every penny, and your wreath decorating your parents' home rather than your apartment.

Giving up isn't an option, but hope is fleeting. Still I pray "Thy will be done" and "Send me." Still I have a nice collection of rejection letters.

I don't mean to be all doom and gloom, but, honestly, singing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" is lying through my two front teeth.

I try not to linger too long in this world of overwhelming pessimism. Life is hard right now, and I'm sick of repeating myself about my failing job search. I'm well beyond ready to talk about something else.

So let's talk about some other people whose world may have also seemed overwhelmingly pessimistic.

Mary. She's pregnant and engaged but her fiancé isn't the father. I bet she got sick of trying to explain that.

Joseph. Someone else impregnated his betrothed. Well, isn't that a sticky situation?

Herod. Some baby is lobbying for his throne (or so he thinks).

The inn keeper. The "No vacancy" sign is illuminated yet still there's a very, very pregnant woman and her man on the front porch.

The sheep, oxen, and other stable animals. Um, hello, there's a baby in their breakfast bowl.

Jesus. God Himself is being shoved into the skin of an infant. Ouch.

The Christmas story is not exactly what the Jews were expecting. Nope, rewind. Christmas was absolutely nothing like what the Jews have been anticipating, the hope-filled stories they've been passing down for generations.

A king was supposed to come to rescue them. Fallen cities would be restored, a temple would be rebuilt, death would be destroyed, and peace truly would exist on earth.

The long-awaited Messiah... a baby. It didn't make sense.
Emmanuel--God with us---is sleeping in a dirty cow trough.

Yup, definitely not the most wonderful time of the year.

I'm so glad Mary, Joseph, Jesus, the shepherds, et al. didn't call it quits, didn't tell God how to do His job. Even in these less than ideal conditions, hope shone brighter than the star illuminating the sky.

Like the shepherds, I am willing to drop everything and sing praises to the One who deserves them.

Like the inn keeper, I offer all of what I have, even if it doesn't seem like much.

Like Joseph, I desire to be obedient even when it looks very different than I expected.

Like Mary, I want to be faithful to what God has asked of me

Like Jesus, I seek to do what needs to be done no matter how uncomfortable, how agonizing it may be.

And, unlike Herod, I am not going to take matters into my own hands.

Maybe the most wonderful time of the year doesn't mean a walking in a winter wonderland.

Maybe it means hope and anticipation for something new. It means finding peace and comfort in God's promise never to abandon us. It means joy even in life's less than comfortable moments. It means resting in the loving arms of the Father.

The most wonderful time of the year is any moment when you remember that Christ truly is Emmanuel, God with us, both now and forevermore.

Amen.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Worship Around the Campfire

We sat out by the fire literally in the middle of the woods.  No buildings, no platform tents within sight.  The trees opened to the stars illuminating the autumn sky.  The babbling brook down the hill accompanied our singing.  We did a mix of acoustic and a capella worship songs to our God, the Creator of this beautiful moment.

Listening to Mindy's rockstar voice, I'll admit, I got a bit jealous.  I enjoy singing; I do a decent job.  I don't sound like Mindy.  At all.

I watched an eight year old pick and play in the fire.  I'm not sure if it's my history of burns or my natural inclination towards safety but I've never been a fire picker.  I'm barely brave enough to roast a marshmallow.

I watched Kurt rhythmically strum his guitar.  Despite the smoke in his face, his fingers found the frets.  Allyson's slowly teaching me guitar.  But I only know four chords.

A high schooler cuddled with the camp dog.  I've always been more of a cat person, an idea reinforced when I was attacked by dogs a few weeks ago.

A chaperone faithfully kept the fire burning.  Not so big that we all had to scoot back.  Not so small that we needed additional blankets for heat.  Just perfect.

God, I said in my head, You've given Mindy the gift of singing.  She sounds wonderful.  You've given Kurt the gift to play guitar.  It's peaceful.  You've given these other folks bravery and fire-building abilities.  It's so great that we can all be here together amidst Your beautiful creation to enjoy this moment.

Katie, God responded, not in an audible voice, You're jealous that you can't sing like Mindy, play guitar like Kurt, find a cuddle-buddy in a limping, four-legged friend, and build a fire like the one we've got here.  But you know what you can do?  Make twenty s'mores in less than five minutes.  Ready, set, go.

"I'm ready for some chocolate and graham crackers..."
"Me, too."

Chaos.  And I only broke one half of a cracker.

<>< Katie

"Now if the foot should say, 'Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, 'Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I don’t need you!' And the head cannot say to the feet, 'I don’t need you!' On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." 1 Corinthians 12:15-27