On Christmas poetry

I’m convinced that Christmas carols contain some of the finest words ever penned. Perhaps this is because their topic is the greatest the world has ever known. The advent of Christ. The incarnation of our Creator. Everything, everything, hinges on the Christmas story.

And if there’s one carol theme that keeps me completely mesmerized, it’s the fantastic contrast between what is happening and what is actually happening in the Gospel accounts. There’s an expectant couple. An inn. A birth. There are shepherds and stars. There’s government. Travel. Baby blankets. But we know what is couched in these ordinary things. The long-expected Jesus, born to set His people free.

Brilliant.

I could write a long time about this at Christmas time. And I normally do. So I’ve included my own little carol below not because it’s well written, but because it helps me flesh out the wonder of this beautiful contrast in the Christmas story. May it prompt your own worship this week.

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In a humble stable room,

The mighty promise now unfurls.

Against the stiff and earth-warm hay

Lies the Saviour of the world.

See the child in swaddling wrapped?

He will wrap the world in love.

Greatest love that can be known

The Father sends His only Son.

Hear the infant’s peaceful sleep?

He will bring us peace with God

And silence make of all our foes.

A quiet worked by His own blood.

Sinners now rejoice and sing!

Christ into our night has come.

Like a Dayspring from on high

For all to know a glorious morn.

In a humble stable room

This glorious Christmas morn.

Beth

it is enough: a single's response to the big question

Sometimes people ask, you know. Although it’s not often a spoken thing. They ask with a fleeting glance I wasn’t meant to see. A curious gaze at weddings, baby showers, or other crowded events. I see it in their eyes when I talk about my week or they rave about theirs. It’s the big question.

I know they ask because they love me. They want what is best for me, and their only reference point is what has been the best for them. But I wish sometimes that they would put words to this question because I know the answer, and I do not doubt it.

Let me tell you how I know.

When I am aware of a love I have not experienced. Like when I watch the unreserved tenderness and delight of a newly married couple. When my insides turn soft and quivering as I hold someone’s tiny infant. When I would reach for someone but they are not there. When I am the only single in the room. You may have wondered about this. In these moments and more, His love is enough. Don’t ask how this can be, but the steadfast loving kindness of God endures. And it is enough.

When I do hard things as one. Like when I file through funeral lines of loved ones. When I’ve laid on the exam table fearing the lump is cancer. When I’ve left a job without another one in sight. When I do long battle with the doubts and fears that come with singleness and it’s not yet 9am. You may have wanted to ask. His grace is enough. I can’t explain how His strength is sufficient for me. But it is enough.

When I face life alone. Like the thousand details of every day.  When I walk up to a dark house after work. When I lay alone at night. When it’s Valentine’s Day, Christmas, Mother’s Day, and just me. When I must do new and uncertain without a companion. You might be curious. Don’t ask me how, but His presence is enough. He has never left nor forsaken me. And it is enough.

So friends, ask. Ask so you can raise your heads heavenward and praise Him loud together with me. The God who is your all-I-need is mine too. There is a rich, throbbing glory in this truth. A platform so large and strong that all manner of men and women and children may safely stand together lifting one mighty Christ is sufficient! Hallelujah.

He is enough.

Beth 

what wondrous love

Tis the season for love. We hear it in the holiday songs. We watch it on the holiday movies. We feel it as we buy and wrap presents for those we hold dear. But Isaiah paints a love that looks quite different than the glitz and glam of the holidays. A love not based in feeling, but in surrender and sacrifice. A love that requires a response. The wondrous love of Jesus Christ.

He was despised and rejected. God’s face turns from our Creator on the cross. We turn our face because we’d like to forget we’re the fallen creation. It’s hard to look on a love you do not deserve and you cannot match. That requires humility. So we turn away in search of some lesser love to make us feel better about ourselves. Someone or thing that makes us feel less like the wretched sinner and more like the judge we fancy we are. And, like the Judge of all the earth on that fateful day, we hide our face from Christ. And He is despised and rejected of men.

By Lippo Memmi - LivioAndronico, CC BY-SA 4.0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org

He has borne our grief and carried our sorrows.  And we consider Him not quite enough for that. We thrash about for something else to lift the load. Some escape. A pill. A move. A therapy. A friend. A group. A special truth. A change. We throw our whole life into pursuit of these things. Creation groans under the weight of the curse, and we spend ourselves crying out to it for relief. We suffer loss. Everywhere and at all times there is what could have been but wasn’t. And what happened but shouldn’t have. What we had once, but it was snatched away.  What we want so badly but can’t. And we feel it. And in the fever of our feeling we begin to think our Saviour humbled and weak. Afflicted. Somehow unable. And He would bear our grief and carry our sorrows.

He was wounded and bruised for our transgression. And we would live our days in the gnawing, soul-squeezing grip of secret sin. Hiding our errors. Closeting our temptations. Covering our lies. Doing what we would not do. And our enemy prowls about satisfied and smug. And our Creator stands wounded and bruised and triumphant over that sin.

He was afflicted and oppressed willingly. Like a silent lamb to the slaughter, He chooses the path of the Father’s will. And we choose our own way. Forge our own path. We think deep down we know what is the best course for our lives. The course to our happiness and contentment must be something of our own making. Something other than faith and obedience.  Something more than submission to narrow truth. When push comes to shove, we make sure we’re pointed in the direction of our own understanding.

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But the wonder is that this love will not be stopped.

The promised love that was planted at the feet of a broken, humiliated Adam has shot up and bloomed in the person of Jesus Christ and now is the season of plenty. The fruition. The lush and flourishing love of Christ that would be an aloe to the sting of our weaknesses. The arms that would carry our heaviest hurt are even now outstretched and strong. You see, the Saviour can be rejected because He is still present and calling. He is still Emmanuel. Inviting us to drink long draughts from the well of our salvation dug deep at the cost of His own life. The love that exalted valleys and crumbled mountains has leveled a straight and peaceful path for our wayward, aching feet. And His love will not and cannot be stopped.

This is the wondrous love of Jesus.

Beth

some books I've read and maybe you can too

Confession: I am not A READER. I saunter casually through the New York Times best-seller list choosing pretty much by cover design. I hmmm noncommittally when assaulted with face-to-face impassioned recommendations. I don’t make eye contact in Barnes and Noble. Sometimes I even forget that reading is in the realm of possibility. (you may start your shaming now…) 

But, I do love books. 

I feel I must tell you that these are not necessarily my favorites, or the best, or the least objectionable, or the most recent…these are books that have stuck to me. Changed me. Made me think hard about big things. Made me laugh like a hyena late at night in bed…and so forth and so on. You get the idea. FYI: I’ve chosen to save most of my Christian worldview books for another list. I've also chosen to let you look these up on Amazon yourself. Think of the calories you'll burn!

1.     The Boys in the Boat

Took me a few chapters to warm up to Daniel Brown’s account of the American rowing team in the 1936 Olympics, but I’m pretty sure I spent the rest of the book forgetting to breathe. The stories of these boys,  what they were up against, and what was going on in the world in that decade make this book worth ignoring heaping mounds of laundry, dirty dishes, emails, and texts from loved ones. Not that I would know anything about that.  

2. A Long Way Gone

Ishmael Beah wrote this gripping account of how he became a boy soldier in Sierra Leone. It’s too sad to give any more detail than that. Because of its graphic violence, I will likely not read it again. But if I ever interact with refugee children from a war-torn country (yes please), although I may not understand them, at least now I know, and my heart is bigger and softer for it. 

3. The Reason I Jump

Naoki Higashida had autism. And he was thirteen. And he up and wrote a book about his life. Let this sink in.   

4. Frozen in Time 

You’re going to want several forms of heat readily available when you read this book. I’m not kidding. Mitchell Zuckoff writes a gripping account of WW2, the Arctic, humanity, bravery, duty, loss, triumph…you get the idea. This book brought all the feels.

5. Shoe Dog

Phil Night created Nike. This is his memoir. Need I say more? I loved watching him gather and interact with his business team most of all. Plus, let’s face it. Athletic shoes and business were two fantastically new worlds for me. It was pretty cool to walk through them with a well-seasoned native like Phil Night. 

6. James Herriot

Big animals. Big personalities. Big food. Big country. All set in the outrageous beauty of the Yorkshire Dales. Warning: do not pick up this book if you are uncomfortable with bovines and/or someone sticking their arm up into one. There’s a fair bit of drinking and language as well. But, try as I might to stop, Herriot’s books get an annual read. 

7. Mitford

This Jan Karon series follows the life of an Episcopalian rector in a rural southern community. (stop laughing) The pages glow with small town and small church humor, and the characters are quirky and laugh out loud relatable. I seriously think I know some of these people in real life. These are hot tea, fuzzy blanket  and stormy weather books, and you will become addicted to them. Good thing Karon is prolific. 

8. The Freedom of Self Forgetfulness

I’m not sure why a friend gave me this book by Timothy Keller, *Looks into the middle distance* but I need it. It’s Scripture rich, engaging, short, and powerful. Right now I’ve got it on audio and it gets a listen every few weeks. Unless I forget. wink.

9. The Wright Brothers

I felt led to include a David McCullough on this list because it makes me look really good. It’s also a delightful slice of Americana. Two brothers invent in this book. And the odds are super against them. And then…they fly. So, yeah. You may want to pick this one up.  

10.    What I’m currently reading

Platform by Michael Hyatt. 

If you read this book, please do not notice that I have yet to take any of Michael Hyatt’s excellent and proven advice about how to grow your virtual platform. But someday, when I find my ducks so I can put them in a row, I will put them in Hyatt formation. And I dare say it will work splendidly. 

Of Time and the River by Thomas Wolfe. 

You guys, what this man does with English will blow. your. mind. The storyline is long-legged and awkward. The language can be unfortunate, and there may be some significant objectionable material ahead. Still, for now I find myself tearing off small shards of paragraph and chewing them slow like savory jerky until the flavor dissolves. Never you mind I’ve had the book for half a year and I’m less than 50 pages in. Reading Wolfe is rewarding work. 

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So, if you happen upon a 4’11” woman wearing fuzzy eye brow glasses darting around the B&N aisles throwing brightly colored books into her basket, just know it’s my attempt to mask my lack of bookish and be a reader like the rest of all y'all. And have pity. 

Beth 

you once were the same

I saw him first when I glanced at my rearview mirror. A large gray pickup truck swerving bully-like through the construction traffic behind me. Then all I could see was his grill as he laid on his horn inches from my back bumper. Then beside me in a flurry of obscene gestures and lurching in front of me with such a change in speed that I had to brake hard to keep from plowing into him.

Spending our life in malice and envy,

 hateful, hating one another

Then I saw it. Fixed prominently to the back of his truck was the most graphic image of a naked woman. I’ve never seen something that pornographic on a vehicle before. I blushed deep to think of so many people around me seeing what I was. I felt as if all women were being stripped of their dignity by that picture. I felt as if somehow my own worth had just been ripped away.

 Disobedient, deceived, enslaved to various lusts and pleasures.

You see, I know that man without knowing him. He thinks he is strong but he is weak. For all of his bluster, he is powerless. Bound skin-breaking tight with the chains of his anger and lust. Broken by his desires. He does not call the shots in his life. He is no free man. His pride and passion rule heavy-handed over him. And I know this man’s end; It is horrific. Sin only doles out one wage.

For we also once were foolish ourselves…

Then something clicked inside me. Like a cog that at long last had shifted into place. I know this man because I know myself. I know the sure fall in temptation. The pursuing of pleasures only to find that I cannot stop. The realization that the attitudes, and actions I thought put me in control were actually my masters, manipulating me like a limp puppet on a string.

But when the kindness of God our Saviour and His love for mankind appeared,

 He saved us, not on the basis of deeds…

but according to His mercy.

I know what it’s like to be rescued from that. I even know what it’s like to be rescued from that and not act like I have been. In reality there is nothing separating me from a life like that man but the kindness and love of God. His salvation that I heard, and it resonated so deep in my heart that with my whole being I lurched forward to believe it. And in that moment he saved me from myself. And He set me free from sin. And there is now no more condemnation.

so that being justified by His grace, we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

So there I sat in my car looking like all the other flustered drivers he’d worked his evil on behind me. But the tears that began to fall were not angry tears. There was pity there mixed with sorrow mixed with a great thankfulness and wonder.

For we also once were foolish ourselves…

but He saved us.

Titus 3

Beth

when singleness is awesome

There. I said it. It will go down forever in the annals of cyber history never to be erased or forgotten. Sometimes being single is awesome. And before we go deeper into this highly suspect topic (I know you’re thinking that. Yes, you.) Let me list a few familiar reasons why.

 

     Possibilities abound.

     No one depends on me doing life stuff

     Service has few boundaries.

     Sleep in

     Eat out

     Sleep in 

     Eat all the cookie dough

     Clean house (if I want it to be)

     Just myself to get ready

     Sleep in

     Eat out

     Sleep in

You get the idea. So, what do we do with all this awesome?

    Store it up

    There will be times when singleness is not so awesome. It’s part of the ebb and flow of life. At some point, I will (yet again) yearn to do life as two instead of one. The benefits of marriage will look like the rainbow’s pot o’ gold. So take stock of what you love in singleness. Record it. And when your emotions flip (and they will) (perhaps several times a day) (I’m referring to a friend of mine here) remember it.

    Keep it to yourself

Dear marrieds: Please don’t share how you came home discouraged and your spouse cradled you in their arms and rubbed your aching muscles as they whispered assuring, passionate words in your ear. And don’t tell me that while you’re sitting squished into each other on my couch polishing it all off with a lingering kiss in my living room. This does not edify.

Dear singles: Don’t parade what you can do and be and enjoy because you’re single in front of your exhausted, aching, stressed, aMAZing married friends. (just forget the beginning of this post, k?) I think perhaps this must also not edify.

Truth is, I don’t have to confirm my worth as a single by itemizing my life for others. Love doesn’t do that. Ever. Wonderful doesn’t equal needs-to-be-shared. Sometimes love withholds what could be said even if it’s true and important to me.

Sometimes love edits.

    Use it as a launch pad

What can I do for others because I’m single? What can I do for God’s kingdom? What does laying up lasting treasure look like for me? The awesomeness of being single is not down to fluff our cushy, designer lives with. It’s a firm foundation on which we can launch into service for God and others. Use it that way.

   Don’t hold onto it

Most of my peers are in their first 10yrs. of marriage. Life is hard for them. Very.  When I think of starting all those challenges late in the game, I kind of want to throw up. Hey, I read mommy blogs, yo. Also, at this point I’m kinda good at singleness. It’s familiar and comfortable. Most days, it’s awesome.

That can make the unknown of dating relationships, um…not very appealing. There’s a give and take there. There’s sharing. There’s possible rejection, misunderstanding, giving up of single benefits…and perhaps eventually marriage and children. (looks away from computer screen because hyperventilating)

But singleness is not something to be grasped. It is something in our hand to use for Jesus until He decides He can get more glory by placing something else in our hand. Don’t panic and clench your fist if He starts to do that. Let Him choose your instrument of praise. Let Him choose your platform.

And let the awesomeness of singleness reflect our awesome God.

Beth

picture Jesus: a primer in weathering turbulence

The captain called them significant bumps, and for several moments I savored the sheer artistry of that phrase. Significant is a weighty, mature word. Unrushed. Elegant. Controlled. And  bumps is possibly the most adorable word ever. This was a word match made in Heaven. Well done, Southwest. Well done.

Pixabay.com via Wikkimedia.org 

I love everything about flying. Love catapulting through those mechanical entry doors and being swept up in this swirling eddy of vibrant humanity. Love skidding down miles of shiny terminal tiles with every possible color, race, age, size, height, and personality God made. Everyone has a look. Everyone has a gait. Mannerisms. History. Agenda. Some move fast. Some move slow. It’s a free for all on visual bliss. And everyone is a potential new friend.

Correction. I love everything about flying but flying.

So when the deep, sincere voice warned us of significant turbulence while we soared thousands of feet above ground round, with nothing but a few inches of metal between us and angry sky, I had to think fast. Lest they have to squeegee me off the ceiling, or my seat neighbor tire of me rocking back and forth in the fetal position. Or I unleash a blood-curdling, unrelenting scream. These things well up deep inside me and threaten to actually happen in turbulence. Is no bueno.

I began by picturing Jesus. He looked remarkably like the flannelgraph version. But it was not the thought of a long-haired, white-robbed man sitting next to me that soothed my rising insides. It was simply remembering He was there with me, and that His presence carried the weight of all the words He’s every spoken to me. You see, if we are to weather any turbulence in life, we must make the connection between Christ’s presence and His words.

This is what I found as we braced for impact:

    1. He keeps people in perfect peace when they stay their mind on Him. I talked with Him about this as we started our descent into Atlanta. How trusting=focusing my thoughts=complete peace. And I led my mind down a long path of thoughts about Him. My insides stopped churning.

    2. There is goodness and mercy in every day of my life. David concludes this at the end of His famous 23^rd Psalm. Surely, this is the case if God is our Shepherd. So I looked for God’s steadfast loving-kindness as my ears popped and the fasten seatbelt sign dinged. I found it all around me.

    3. The Lord is my helper, I will not fear what man can do to me.  I’ll admit when I remembered these words, my first thought was, “but man didn’t strap you to a narrow cylinder hurtling at an alarming rate towards certain death!” But the point is this: if my God were as visible as He was present, everyone on that plane would beg to be on His side. The God who speaks things into existence, the God who ‘upholds the government of worlds,’ the God with nail scars in His hands, who came alive from being dead by His own power…this God is with me. This God is my helper. My fear stayed at 30,000ft.

There were other Bible words that flooded my mind as we all sat there with fluttering hearts. But, if I were to be completely honest, I’d say that those significant bumps never actually happened. We jostled a few times, and landed on firm ground just after the major storm had moved on. Hmmm. Sounds like a Divine hand to me. And as we shuffled off the plane exhausted but relieved, a grin (I’m afraid it was cheesy) spread across my face. I could picture Jesus. He would carry and comfort me through any turbulence. 

Beth