Didn’t know it was You

There’s a line in the song “Sweet Little Jesus Boy” that has been playing over and over in my head. Now, so that we are clear, my head only plays the Mahalia Jackson version. I feel it’s imperative for you to be aware of this detail. The single line is “We didn’t know it was You”.

This brought me back to a time when I had all four of The Hooligans at home. This particular year would be a rough Christmas as I was only working 30 hours per week making about $12 per hour with no other income or assistance. I believe their ages were 4, 6, 11, and 13. Those were the best of times and the worst of times. I’m sorry that I quoted Dickens but it fits.

One of the better parts of that period was my developing friendship with Wistful. Wistful and I met through mutual friends coordinating an event earlier that spring. We continued getting together and were becoming pretty good friends. She knew of my struggles and how sad it made me that I couldn’t “do” for my boys that Christmas. This was the same year that she coordinated a trip to The Biltmore and had “sponsors” pay for our tickets. There’s another wonderful story associated with that trip and Cinci, but we’ll save that one for another time.

Hanging on my door when we got back was a bag. This was very curious because I lived in the boonies at the time. It was very odd. When I opened it, I was very surprised. The bag contained a Christmas card, and within it a very generous gift card! When you think “generous” think a few hundred dollars generous. The card was unsigned and anonymous. I immediately thought it was from my home church.

A day or two later Wistful came over to help decorate the tree I purchased with said gift card and I kept going on and on…and on…and on about how thankful I was that my church family (according to me) thought enough to help me in this way. I also unashamedly and unequivocally, rambled on about how the young adult group we were a part of (in a different church) could not possibly understand my struggles as a single mom but thank goodness for my home church. This went on probably about ten minutes and Wistful could not take it anymore! She finally said, “Look, I wanted it to be a secret but since you keep going on…and on…and on…about how your ‘church family’ understands and loves you so much, you need to know it was from us – the young adult group”. (Disclaimer – I don’t remember the exact words as I was very embarrassed so, Wistful, feel free to correct as needed). All I could say was, "I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you".

During Christmas time, I believe my story has variations in others’ lives. We forget whom it is supposed to be about and we forget whom it is that provides for such merry. John 1:10 (ESV) says, “He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him.” I’d spent countless hours with this group and I did not know them either! I didn’t realize they understood and loved us enough to be so gracious. The Good News Version of John 1:16 summarizes this point well as it relates to Jesus – "Out of the fullness of his grace he has blessed us all, giving us one blessing after another".

I am thankful that Wistful was gracious enough to forgive my ignorance and I even more thankful that "out of His fullness (abundance) we have all received [all had a share and we were all supplied with] one grace after another and spiritual blessing upon spiritual blessing and even favor upon favor and gift [heaped] upon gift". John 1:16, Amplified version.

Merry Christmas!

Excess

Excess can be defined as “more than or above what is necessary, usual, or specified; extra or superabundance”. I really like “superabundance” mostly because I really like the word “super”. I also really like “quotation marks”.

The words excess, and its cousin superabundance, articulate well how blessed I feel and the blessings I’ve experienced God share with me this year. The more I think about them, the more I think about how undeserving I am and how Wonderful He is! It’s a great place to be.

The One that says, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10) and “who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask” (Ephesians 3:20) has superabundantly proved it. Although I wonder, if I’ve just been paying more attention.

This year, though full of challenges professionally, and some economic uncertainties, has been abundantly and exceedingly filled with greatness. Cinci is the healthiest he’s been in years, Muscles continues to grow into an honorable young man, The Original Hooligans have made more appearances than usual, true friends are constant though not abounding, and I am loved beyond imagination.

Most of all, I understand more fully why “there is no law” against certain things. There is no excess when it comes to love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). I want to live that superabundantly. It is the season when it’s better to give than to receive after all. However, I pray this, being filled by the Spirit, is not seasonal but always excessively obvious in me.

Beholding

The following is a quote on the awesome turquoise free “business” cards I have – “Everything has beauty; not everyone sees it.” I wonder if we look long enough, intently enough to catch the glimpses of beauty all around us.

I remember when The Original Hooligans and The Hooligans were babies. I would stare into their precious faces and felt that their whole beings were beautiful by design because their Designer made them so. I saw art and uniqueness in their eyes, their little noses (some smaller than others), and the way their brain works. It seemed to me, there would be no time that they would be unlovely to this mom…and there has not been! I still see the art in them and I still believe they were designed specifically to be them.

Why is it that I can see the art in them but question the art and design in me? Oh, I very well know. It’s because instead of looking at the Designer, as I did in my children’s faces, I am looking only at me. I thought about this recently because I am blessed with people that see past the “me” in me but must see me through Him. I can think of no other reason why I should be unconditionally loved. It’s a beautiful thing to feel loved in that way.

Behold!, 1 John 3:1 reminds us that God Himself loves us and sees us this way! “Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” Yet, even though God and His Beauty is all around us, not everyone sees Him.

There’s another lovely passage I like that says, “...Christ is our example. By beholding Him we are to be changed into His image, from glory to glory, from character to character. This is our work. God help us rightly represent the Savior to the world." –1SM 172 (RH Aug. 13, 1901).

Therefore, my challenge is to choose to behold the beauty and art in each other, but most of all, to behold the Artist and Designer. He loves us in such a manner as to bestow the best of a Fantastic Father!

Built to Last

One of my favorite parables Jesus told was the parable of the men that wanted to live by the sea. We all know that in real estate it’s all about – location, location, location. Beachfront homes are fun even though insurance tends to be very expensive. You can read about it in Matthew 7:24-27.

There is also a cute children’s song about this very thing. I’ve abbreviated it for your enjoyment – “The wise man built his house upon the rock…And the rain came tumbling down…Oh, the rain came down. And the floods came up…And the wise man's house stood firm. The foolish man built his house upon the sand…And the rain came tumbling down. Oh, the rain came down. And the floods came up…And the foolish man's house went "splat!...”

I am continually amazed at how God, through such seemingly simple yet direct lessons, reminds us of what makes things, in this case, a building, lasting. The principle, though, can be applied to more than must building. I admit, however, that all this came to mind while I was hanging up my clothes yesterday.

The Hooligans and I moved to a rental this past summer. We’ve had to adapt to very different sleeping and space arrangements than any of us were previously used to experiencing. The new arrangements caused me to take a bedroom without a closet! I had a HUGE walk-in closet in my old house. Now, I would not only have to share the one bathroom with two teenage boys (I must give them kudos because they’ve been very cognizant of how important it is for them to keep the bathroom in reasonably decent and clean condition) but I had no place to hang up my clothes. In the greater scheme of life, this is minor, but you just don’t know the number of dresses I own! Much like a great superhero came Triple M to the rescue.

Triple M offered to put of a closet rod with brackets. Now, we had only been dating a few months and I was not 100% confident that I would like this little project. I was already upset I did not have a closet and I was concerned that this would turn out badly. In hindsight, I should have known better. INTJ males are not known for doing things 99.9% -- they tend to do things 100%+!

We went shopping for the supplies and he came over with all the things needed and some power tools. It was cute. I have to tell you, this is the fanciest exposed closet I have ever seen. I was apprehensive about loading up all the clothes but it held up. This is how Triple M builds things. He builds them with care and he builds them to last.

I am blessed that his “building” abilities don’t stop there. He is proactively helpful, and considerate. He is the kind of person that you can call in an emergency and have the confidence he can help you. He puts us first (The Hooligans and me) more than he should most times, and speaks the truths that need to be spoken in love most of the time (he’s human, after all). He puts God first and others right after. I’ve seen him be selfless beyond need. All of that reminds me of the rest of that children’s song – “So, build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ... And the blessings will come down. Oh, the blessings come down as your prayers go up…So build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ.”

I wonder if the beachfront houses had closets???

Cornucopia

Oh, the “horn of plenty”! It’s such a beautiful reminder of all that is good. It’s sort of a wonderfully filled cannoli; the kind with enough sugar crystals to make your mouth do a happy dance if mouths could dance. Or perhaps a reminder of Bugles stuffed with cream cheese. It’s overflowing with plenty. The “plenty” though for some people is not as beautiful or good as the “plenty for others…or so it seems.

I don’t know if your life is like mine – a life where in the last year you’ve experienced losses and wins, pain and enjoyment, disappointments and unexpected surprises, broken relationships and loving relationships, mental breakdowns and sanity, misfortune and blessings. I will guess that it is. There has been “plenty” of all the aforementioned filling my life this year. It’s been a cornucopia filled with all of life’s experiences that have somehow made me stronger and my life even more beautiful overall.

Since God’s “no” has manifested as “No, because I want something better for you” I have no logical reason to complain. Have I always liked it? No, I have not. In addition, I’ve told Him as much! Thankfully, He is very patient with me and has a great sense of humor. I am blessed with human relationships that mirror those qualities as well.

In response to such a beautiful life I lead with wonderful adventures awaiting and exceptional people to share it with, you know, like the cream of the cannoli, I choose to be grateful hopefully not just this Thanksgiving season but also every day.

Fill someone’s life with goodness today. It makes it sweeter.

Trees

I’ve recently become enthralled with the concept of specific trees as specific memorials for specific events. You might remember that I like things in triplicate so I had mention that specifically.

I’ve been thinking about a picture of Triple M and me…one where we look like total tree huggers and not because we are environmentalists in any way, shape or form, but because we were literally hugging a tree in his back yard as his right hand reached for my left hand. Aww. That sounds so beautiful. What made the event even more special was that I earlier spilled some coconut milk (seed from a tree…did you like that reference) on my T-shirt at an awkward angle above the waist while making piña coladas. Bama Girl did not think they were special enough. I got her back though. That’s another story. There is something romantic, even redeeming about trees.

The first tree that comes to mind is the tree of knowledge of good and evil as depicted in Genesis (first book of the Christian Bible). God is so Wonderful and He was willing to share everything, well, almost. He asked, ever so politely, I might add, for Adam and Eve to eat from everything else except that tree because it would not be good for them. I will venture to say most of you know the story but if not, I invite you to read Genesis Chapters one through at least four to get the full scoop. Somehow, even though I am sure the Garden of Eden was like, well, Eden or Paradise. Eve was fooled into thinking 99.9% wasn’t enough. She wanted that 0.01%. I don’t understand that. Regardless, even in the “hey, I’ve prepared a megabizzillion wonderful goodies for you from which you can feast…just don’t touch this one, or even go near it” invitation to all things wonderful, Eve chose stupidly.

The next tree I am reminded of is a tree in transition. This tree became a cross. It was transformed into a redemptive tool for you and me. As Chris Rice wrote from Jesus’ point of view, “Now I can never forget how much you mean to me. 'Cause I will always remember whenever I see. Where I carved your name into my tree. Where I wrapped my heart around your name. Then I took your arrow through my heart…Just to say, ‘I love you’. ‘I really love you’.”

The last tree that comprises my enthrallment is the tree from the song “Don’t sit under the apple tree…” There is something very romantic about this song. I must admit that I thought the spirit and feeling of that song would be my experience with Triple M when we went apple picking. I’d pictured tall apple trees and small ladders leading to plentiful fruit filled trees. I even got a flannel shirt, the kind with the snaps for the outing.

I thought Triple M and I would skip along and he would say, “Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me”, and we would sit under the tree. At that very moment, he would take a bite out of a beautiful apple, and I would tilt my head, giggle, and respond, “I won’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else but you…” I was deceived by Groupon. And somewhere along the way I became dissatisfied with my 99.9% everyday experience with him, and wanted that 0.01%. We did get our picture taken…while standing up. It turned out to be one of my favorite M & M pictures.

I think back now and see how foolish it is to search for that 0.01% of what can never be instead of being filled with joy for the 99.9% that is – the reaching out in hands and heart to wrap me in the love of all things wonderful. I’ll be deceived no more.

The Buried Life

I like jars (oh, and he likes lemonade in case you have forgotten). I like jars so much that I repurpose them. I repurpose just about any glass jar type out there. So far, I’ve repurposed a jar to the following themes: snowmen, fishing, soccer, musical notes, birds, and various names and/or initials. Sometimes I wonder if this is just silly and possibly dangerous.

The times I specifically wonder are when I am watching one of those “hoarding” shows. For some reason I cannot fully understand, I get concerned I will end up with 17,295 jars in my 800 sq. ft. rental with every intent in the world to repurpose as a gift for someone…because we all know how many people MUST be lining up to receive a jar from me!

I’ve watched this show semi-regularly for about a year. I am always both disturbed and disheartened by the plight of the sufferer or “hoarder” on the show. There is almost always a defining moment that transformed some sort of collection activity to an obsession and usually tied in with severe and traumatic loss of a loved one. I’ve been thinking about defining moments and how they can (but don’t have to) overwhelm us or bury us in different ways. I’ve also been thinking about how our own actions further deepen the depth of our condition.

There are some specific ways we bury our life unnecessarily. I’ve listed some below but I bet we can come up with numerous others.

• We bury ourselves with worry
• We bury ourselves with our destructive behavior
• We bury ourselves with isolation
• We bury ourselves with our selves and our selfish desires
• We bury ourselves in our work

It seems to me that the more I let myself be buried by those things I listed above, the less likely I am to acknowledge the wonderful people around me that motivate me to make those cutesy jars to begin with! In addition, I marvel at the fact that Jesus likes to think of us as jars. 2 Corinthians 4:7 says that “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” (ESV).

This is the buried life we should live – to know that within each of us is treasure, even though sometimes it seems hidden. The power of God reveals it, if we let Him. The only kind of “buried life” I want to live is the one I chose when I decided to follow Jesus…

Romans 6:4: We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. (ESV)

And so we can walk in newness of life instead of a buried life! I like that; I like that a lot! I invite you along and hey, I might even make you a jar! I will fill yours up with jellybeans...