Humble Pie

     My husband and I leave each other messages on a dry erase board. The other day we had a day of teenage angst and moodiness in our home. I found this message from my husband when I returned from running errands. I said, "I like it; I am not sure what it means." Not being a man of mystery, he replied, "It means just what it says." He was referring to my ability to handle our teen. After a good night's sleep, I had gathered the stamina for a frank, but kind, talk with our son.
     The fact that I could inspire humility in anyone is clearly a God thing. Those of  you who know me, understand what I mean. I am all about harmony, but only up to a point. I have an underlying conviction that I know better. I lose my patience with foolishness and I have been known to hound the Almighty with my opinion of how things SHOULD be.
     Yet, the Lord has a habit of using people's weaknesses for his greater purpose. 2 Corinthians 12:9 reads: " My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." The God of the universe is a God of contradictions. Noah was not keen on building the ark. Moses was one reluctant senior citizen when he led the Israelites out of Egypt. The Messiah took the form of a vulnerable baby born in a lowly setting.
     The Lord knows our weaknesses and our strengths. I know that one of my strengths is my love for my son. One of my weaknesses is impatience. With my son, I am more patient than I dreamed I could ever be. The context of love gives me the opportunity to work on my weakness.  It's a gift to practice patience with a dear one first, and then move outward to those unknown to me.

Isaiah 40:31 reminds me that:
 "He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."


     Any parenting success that I enjoy is born of grace. The very same God who grants me the grace I request, uses me to inspire and help others. I am not humble or patient and yet I am a vessel of these teachings. This astounds me. He is the God of contradictions and miracles. There are no small miracles. May you trust in His grace in the New Year.

What The Juggler Knew

     This is a wonderful time of year to catch old movies on TV. The other day I saw a short called "The Juggler of Our Lady." In the movie, a juggler, played by Boris Karloff, is saved from a severe snow storm by a group of French monks. The monks feed and shelter the visitor until the mountain pass is clear in the spring.

Painter Marc Chagall understood the beauty of juggling.

     During the winter, the monks spend their free time preparing gifts for the Blessed Mother. Some brothers carved candlesticks while others painted intricate icons. The juggler is touched and wants to give two of his beloved juggling pins as an offering. Some of the monks look down on the gift. The abbot kindly tells the juggler that they couldn't possibly accept the pins because they don't want to deny the man his livelihood.The abbot then invites the man to stay for the procession of the gifts before setting off on his journey. The juggler accepts.
     The festival day arrives and the camera shows a procession of gift bearing monks entering the chapel of our Lady. To their collective horror, the juggler is juggling in front of the Blessed Mother statue. Then suddenly, the abbot hits his knees and blesses himself. The statue has come alive and is reaching out benevolently to the juggler. The remaining monks kneel in awe.
     The juggler knew that we are all given different gifts. He knew he couldn't paint or carve or even sing. He knew that he could juggle and he juggled his best for the smiling Blessed Mother. In the movie Chariots of Fire, Eric Liddell says,"God Made me fast and when I run I feel His pleasure." When we are authentically ourselves, and not a copy of someone else, I do think it pleases the Lord.
     There have been times in my life when I've felt that I had nothing special to give. I don't think this is a failing on God's part. Rather I believe it to be smallness of vision and lack of gratitude on my part. Many times I have often taken my gifts for granted. I have wasted time coveting the gifts of others, rather than being grateful for my own.
     Every gift is equal in God's eyes: A fluffy biscuit, a soaring aria, the ability to bring laughter, a calming demeanor, a beautiful painting and yes, a superb juggler. It's not what we do, but what's in our hearts that makes all the difference. Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself everyone else is taken." God specializes in variety and abundance. The holiday season is the perfect time to praise him with your best. He is worthy.

A Loan and A Perfect Gift

    "Your son is on the very seriously ill list," said the doctor. My son was born full term but with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. I sat up in bed the entire night. I watched the clock move from 12 midnight to 6 AM. I cried until my tears were gone and all I had left were gasps. How could God have me carry a my baby for 9 months only to lose him at birth? I turned this around in my mind all night. Around 4 AM, I had my answer: It was God's baby and he was on loan to me.

     The baby was gradually weaned off the respirator. When he was two weeks old, I held him for the first time. This early brush with death made every day of parenting a gift to me, even the rough ones. My son's birth and life have made me a better person and I am humbled by God's trust.
     As a mother, the Christmas season is a perfect time to meditate on the significance of the Christ child. The sacrifice of the firstborn is a recurring theme in the old testament. In Genesis 22 God instructs Abraham to sacrifice the life of his only son, Issac.  An angel stays his hand to prevent the sacrifice. In Exodus, the Israelites are spared when the first born sons of Egypt are struck down.
     In the New Testament, the Christ child parallels the old testament sacrifice of unblemished lambs. The only son of God is set apart as a sacrifice for all. I am stunned by the rich symbolism and reality, of sacrificing a first born son.
     At Christmas I remember Mary, the Blessed Mother. She was called by God and she said, "I am the Lord's servant (or handmaiden)". I am in awe of her enduring faith when I remember that she later witnessed her son's Crucifixion.
     Jesus lived as a man. He knew both joy and suffering. He was born in the most humble of circumstances; this was no accident because his kingdom is not of this world. His first guests were the shepherds and he IS the lamb of God. The wise men knew who he was because they were book smart AND heart wise.
     My son's birth changed my very ordinary life. Jesus' birth changed the very fabric of heaven and earth. Handel's Messiah states: "The kingdom of  this world is become the Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ." The song "O Holy Night" says "He appeared and the soul felt its worth." May you feel your soul's worth this Christmas and be blessed by the light of His presence. Merry Christmas!

A Christmas Prayer

     My son wrote this prayer for me as a Christmas gift a few years ago.  I think it is a powerful and lovely prayer. A dear friend who is a theologian termed it "theologically robust." I hope that it blesses you as much as it has blessed me.

Mom's Christmas Prayer

     For I will not forsake his coming, for the Prince of Peace, Savior of the peoples has come to wash away my sin committed against thee. In Him, and in His trust, I will not question His forgiveness.
      He is the vessel of the people of God and in their trust, even unknowingly, He will save them from the void beyond. Let us acknowledge and put forth our understanding in his kindness and purity.

Give thanks, Amen

The Memory Keeper

     We all have gifts. One of mine is being very visual. When I was a little girl, I learned to spell by the shape of words, not by phonetics. Later in life I learned physiology by drawing pictures and flow charts. I illustrated my notes in nursing school to create mnemonics. I love puzzles and can find tiny details quickly. If something is lost, I can usually find it. If I meet someone I may forget their name but I don't forget their face. While all of these uses are quirky, and even useful, its my memory for events that makes me the family memory keeper.

      There have been times when my son and husband don't get along. My son will make a point of saying, "Dad did this or that and it made me angry." But as a memory keeper I can reply, "Yes, I get that you're annoyed but when you were a sick baby your Dad would sleep on the floor in your room just in case you needed him." That image comes right to the front of my mind when I think of my husband's goodness.

     When my husband says,"Teenagers are selfish," I agree, but I then I remember a time when my husband was deployed. I had an upset stomach and was laid out on the couch. My then 3 year old got a chair climbed on the kitchen counter and brought me ginger ale and crackers. I still remember asking him, "How did you do that?" "Got a chair," he said simply.

Consider how the lilies grow. (Luke 12:27)

      My paternal grandparents are long departed, but I remember their garden like I just left it. It was full of pear trees, pansies, tulips and the most gorgeous roses I have ever seen. It was the most glorious place for a child to play.  I filled a roasting pan with water and sailed a little boat. I was the happiest girl ever.
     Naturally a visual memory can be a burden too. I remember facial expressions, exchanges and events long after they are done. Herein lies the importance of framework. If I look at life as a work in progress, then the hurtful things don't have as much staying power. They are pieces of a mosaic, but not the whole work.

     The things we do while we're on earth matter. Each soul is here to improve and learn. The Lord is the the ultimate memory keeper and His memory is not colored by time or emotion. He will hold us accountable for unkind words spoken and kind deeds left undone. 

He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. (Jn 10:3)

Addison Road's song "My Story" speaks to this:

There's just too many times I only think of me
Cause I get so consumed with my opportunities
When my last breath brings me to the feet of God
I want to hear him say I lived for his glory

Each day is a chance to improve on the the previous one. Blessings on your journey.

Those Who Ain't Afraid

     There's a line in the Joni Mitchell song, "A Case of You", that says "I'm frightened by the devil and I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid." I love this line. I think it really speaks to the value of community.  I draw strength from people who share my values.  For me these values are found at church, with military friends and with family. The people we associate with create our context.
     When you read something context is vital.  How much more vital is context when we live? When I attend church, I gather together with others who believe in something greater than themselves.  Worshiping together nourishes me for the week ahead.  Thinking about how to apply the scripture to my week makes the message, and my faith, relevant.

You can be the light or the mirror.

     My military friends share a bond of service and sacrifice.  Time spent away from our country and family draws us closer than some blood relatives. The will to do difficult things in the service of others is a common thread.  There is an understanding that the job is more than just a job.
     Family is where you start. As you get older, family becomes bigger as you add those friends who really are family too.  If we're lucky we can think of friends and family for whom we would drop everything. There is an unspoken bond, a reciprocity of  heart.
     When I look at the world it's easy to dwell on the negative.  There is strife, hunger and violence and these are real. But goodness is also real.  I believe we have a choice.  Edith Wharton said, "There are two ways of spreading light: Be the candle or the mirror that reflects it."  This holiday season I challenge you to think about ways to  improve your own community. Each soul brings its own unique light. 

A Levitating Pear

     The existence of darkness is a classic theological and philosophical question.  I don't pretend to know the answer, but the other day I had an insight while looking at a drawing. I drew the picture below about 14 years ago.  My teacher unkindly, though accurately, titled it :"Levitating Pear". I dislike this picture and wanted to throw it away, but another student encouraged me to keep it and frame it so I could see where I started.
     The drawing is informative on several levels. There is a lack of gray scale or shading, thus the "levitating pear". The colors are not blended. The pear, in particular, would have benefited from a more delicate hand and a hearty spectrum of green yellows and yellow browns. The part I admire is the inner rim of the bowl where I've made an attempt to create some depth with shadow.

Levitating Pear

Portrait of Son

     The second drawing was done 9 years after the bowl of fruit. This portrait has depth.  A judicious use of shadow makes the hair stand up and gives the highlights movement. A careful use of shading enables the neck to hold the head in space and a delicate use of shadow and negative space allows the glasses to perch on the carefully shaded nose.  Using shadow makes a work more dimensional and captivating. It occurs to me, our souls are very much like art.
     If we are honest, we know that there is darkness and light in each of us.  Cultures the world over concede this.  There is the yin and yang of Chinese culture:  A black swirl fitted perfectly into a white one. Popular fiction echoes this duality too: the good side of the Force in Star Wars, the Lion in the works of C.S. Lewis. The concepts are not new, but they bear fresh examination.
     In art, darkness brings out the light. For me, light is the primary value.  Without light, there can never be color or nuance. It is much the same with our souls. It is how we deal with darkness that makes all the difference. Our own darkness can simply feed itself or spurn us to compassion and forgiveness. Light and love lead us to a higher self that we did not know before. Light brings a beauty and color that selfishness can never deliver.
     This time of year is dark in the mountains, but when the sun shines on the snow, it is like standing on a carpet of sparkly stars. Advent is a season of hope in a world that is sometimes quite dark. "This is the message we have heard and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all." (1 John: 5) Isiah 64:8 states that "we are the clay, you are the potter; we are the work of your hand." If God is the Great Artist, and He is Light, surely he can make a beautiful creation out of even our most tragic shortcomings? He can use our very darkness to highlight the good in us and in others.
     When I look at "Levitating Pear" I want to laugh or weep.  When I look at the portrait of my son, I see potential. I believe that a loving God knows our potential from the beginning. I can only hope that I make him laugh more often than I make him weep.
     

Elk Are People Too

      Winter has come to the wilds of Utah. It was 4 F this bright morning.  Physics lab for my young lad begins at 6:45 AM, an unholy hour by most definitions.  We departed at 6:15 AM so my friend could practice his driving.  Excellent.  Nothing is quite as bracing as driving in the snow with your teenager. Once he was safely ensconced in physics lab, I made my way back home.  Much to my delight, the elk herd were munching away in a nearby field.  These creatures got me thinking. Elk have a lot in common with people.

Kindred spirits do improve the journey.

     Elk like to be with those who are like them.  They have horns and can get stuck on things.  They like to feel safe and run when threatened.  Most importantly, they have a majestic beauty all their own. Each elk has a slightly different coloration and antler pattern. People share all these characteristics.  We enjoy the company of those who are like us.  We fixate on problems and get stuck. We look for safe situations and are often afraid of straying from our safety zone. Finally, each soul reflects God's beauty in different ways.

Stepping out from the herd can be scary.

      Following Christ requires stepping out of the herd.  He calls us to uncomfortable places, geographically and emotionally.We are called to see beneath a prickly surface and see the soul beauty in others. It is very easy to love those like ourselves.  Yet Jesus challenges us: "If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? and if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others?" (Matthew:46-47)
     Christ's call is fresh for me each day. Impatience and judgement sneak up on me regularly. But we are here to grow, not to be perfect. I am encouraged by 2 Corinthians:12 "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness." I wish you a thoughtful Advent and blessings on your journey.

The herd is comfortable and gives you strength.

The Light on the Porch

     It was -14 F this morning. Though it was painfully cold and painfully early, I set out to ferry my son to AP Physics lab. I stepped into the crunchy, snow laden yard and I realized I was not alone. I heard the noise of hoofs and the squeak of calls. I heard branches bending and I heard snouts snuffling. Deer?  The light from the porch gave me just enough back light to peer into the darkness.  Elk. Big elk. A large group of very big elk on my driveway!  I pushed the automatic opener on the barn door; they were spooked and trotted across the road.

God saw that the light was good and he separated the light from darkness.

     I have been studying the book of Exodus and it actually ties in nicely with my frosty wildlife experience.  God set many a plague upon Egypt. He punished the Egyptians to illustrate His power and dominion.  He spared the Israelites to show His faithfulness. The Lord made the Nile turn to blood, he sent frogs, locusts, revolting boils, razor sharp hail, unrelenting gnats, gruesome livestock diseases, darkness and the death of  firstborn Egyptian sons. While the scope of these plagues is impressive, there is one that stands out to me: darkness.
     I am struck by the sheer power of the metaphor. For me darkness symbolizes a world without the light and presence of God. True, the other plagues are full of physical agony, but a world without light is a world without hope. In Genesis the first day of creation is all about light.  Genesis 1:1-4  reads: "Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.  And God said, let there be light and there was light. God saw that the light was good and he separated the light from darkness."
     In the book of Exodus,  the plague of darkness precedes the deaths of the first born Egyptians. There is a parallel of darkness at the crucifixion, "from the sixth hour to the ninth hour darkness came over all the land." This darkness and, the accompanying earthquakes, terrified onlookers and caused them to exclaim," Surely he was the Son of God.". Jesus himself said, " I am the light of the world.Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life." (John 8:12)
     When I stepped out into the cold, darkness this morning, I faced an unknown presence in the yard. But the porch light glowed softly right behind my back and I could see what I needed to see.  I wasn't afraid and in that moment, God whispered into my heart: "I have your back. I AM the light. I am faithful and I will equip you for unemployment, motherhood and yes, even elk." Sometimes a whisper is more convincing than a shout.  May you walk in the Light.