Advent Conspiracy

In case you missed being a part of the conspiracy last year, or hadn’t seen this year’s video. Definitely something to consider. You can participate in alternative gift giving through Advent Conspiracy, Heifer International, Compassion International, a myriad of other organizations – local, national, and international!

Silence and Longing

I think this is the longest time I’ve been away from my blog . . . ever. In the past month, sometimes it’s been because I’ve got so much going on in my head that I don’t know where to start in writing/processing it all. Other times it’s because nothing is going on in my head, and life is full.

But as we enter into this season of Advent, I began thinking through what I wanted my focus to be this year. Each year I make commitments to “not miss it”; to not get caught up in the rush and stress and truly focus on the birthday celebration of Christ . . . and, of course, I start with good intentions and yet never quite fulfill them.

So in part, to hold myself accountable, and in part, because I love engaging in this sort of virtual community thought process that happens through blogging, I’m going to try to blog through Advent this time.

And here’s what I’ve been thinking about:

If the word “advent” inherently indicates an arrival, or a coming, then what is the significance of the “advent” of Jesus – both back in the manger and in the future return? Why is it important that he actually came here to Earth (and that he will come back)? And what would it really look like to hinge my hope on that fact? To anticipate – moreover, to long for – that advent?

Turns out we’re pondering that through our series at church as well. The four Sundays of Advent are focused on Longing, Anticipation, Waiting, and Joy. I think those words will work well as a frame for my thinking, too.

So here we go. This week I’m going to ponder what it truly means to long for something. Already I’m thinking about the phrases thirst after, yearn for, and faints for.

I’ll leave you today with a song that we sang yesterday morning. Our worship leader changed the wording of the chorus (and the melody a little) to help us experience that frustration, the tension, that occurs when longing is present. It was powerful to feel the longing for resolution in the music, and yet not quite receive it.

O, Come! O, Come Emmanuel!

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

How long? How long? Must we wait for Messiah to come?

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o’er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
How long? How long? Must we wait for Messiah to come?

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

How long? How long? Must we wait for Messiah to come?

Snapshot Saturday

A little early, but I know you’ve been dying to get a peek at the Fried Butter!

Just a couple snapshots from our trip to the State Fair of Texas this year. I’ll post a link to the entire album once I’ve actually edited the photos!

Yes, we tried the Fried Butter. Yes, it was actually tasty. More like a buttery ball of funnel cake.

The carousel and the Ferris Wheel are two of our annual stops. Here’s a little bit of playing with slow shutter speeds and motion.

When it Comes to Writing . . .

I realize I’ve been neglecting my blog. Oh, I post here and there, but I haven’t been very consistent – despite my constant “recommittments” to do so.

At first I thought the issue revolved around time. But let’s be honest. At the end of the day we make time for what is important to us. We figure out ways to make it work. And, really, I could redeem plenty of wasted minutes to write more than one blog post a week.

Then I thought it must be related to content – or rather, lack thereof. But I’m in three Bible studies (one of which I’m on the teaching team) and a mom’s group, I regularly attend a church service where I’m taught, and I have an active and verbose four-year-old daughter. I have plenty of content. In fact, I often think of topics on which I could write. I just never seem to get around to writing about them.

I’ve finally come to the conclusion that I must be passionate, deeply impacted, or thought-provoked by something to write about it. Some people write because they can’t help but write. I only write about the things I can’t get out of my mind. But in those cases, I do have to write about them. Expressing my thoughts in actual coherent statements, in black-and-white type, in a tangible form helps me to process through them, finding meaning in life – both the mundane and the difficult, the joyous and the disheartening.

I write to think and to clarify. And in a phase of life when my thinking is muddled from extra hormones (thank you pregnancy) and lack of sleep, I don’t often have the time or energy to spend thinking. Which means I find myself not writing as much.

But I miss it.

And I miss the space to engage my mind. Jesus calls me to love him with all my heart, soul, strength, AND mind. When I’m not fully engaging him in all of those areas, part of me feels incomplete. Slightly off.

So here’s to more thinking . . .  and writing.

What’s on your mind?

Sunday Morning Leftovers

When someone invests in you, a deeply encouraging friendship begins. When someone pours into your child, a sweet and meaningful relationship transpires. When that someone is the same person in both instances, you are impacted in more ways that you can ever imagine.

Such is the case with the – now former – children’s director at our church.

I can hardly can’t begin to write this little tribute without tears forming in my eyes because my sweet friend has meant so much to me and my family in the past three years. I can still remember picking her brain while we packed away our “mobile” children’s rooms when we were still meeting at the Gladney Center for Adoption in the early days of our church. She was the first person in the nursery that my daughter accepted as being “safe” to stay with during church. She was also the first (and I believe only) person my daughter has ever vomited all over . . . right before she had to go speak to the audience at an all-church event. We’ve had dinners, weekly lunches, and many long talks about everything from television shows to singleness to poking fun at our Worship Director to more painful experiences of life. I am deeply blessed by her friendship and deeply moved by her love for my family.

So it’s with a bitter-sweetness that I add my best wishes to those of many others, as we send her off to her next experience. I’m so excited to see what God has in store for her next, and I’m more than confident that it’s time for her to move on . . . but you know, those changes and transitions in relationships are still sad. It’s hard to let go. Particularly of someone who means so much.

Katie, my friend. I know it’s not goodbye. I mean, we still have a Settlers challenge on the table. And if there’s a spontaneous Milli Vanilli dance party, I expect to be invited. But you’re my Sunday Morning Leftover for this week, since I’ll be thinking about you as you pack and begin the next phase of your life. Best wishes, and may God be glorified in all that you do.

Another View of Grace

I received this beautiful note in my inbox this morning from a dear friend who has traveled a long road to engagement. As I’ve been pondering grace this week with LL Barkat (too late for her giveaway, but you still want to read the amazing posts about Mary and Grace!), I thought Jen’s story was perfect. She’s given me permission to post it below.

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My Mom for the longest time (really for as long as I can remember) has always been writing scriptures down that she feels the Lord has laid on her heart for me, good quotes from books that she thinks apply to my life, or even some times what she feels like the Lord is speaking to me (i.e. a specific word for me).  She use to write it down on scrap paper, sticky notes, etc but ever since the Mary Engelbreit daily calendars started coming out, she has saved the “torn off” days and used the back of them to write her notes.

Well, back on July 5th, 2002 (which was a tough, tough time for me…my twin sister had just gotten married in May of that year and I just felt generally directionless and lonely and was really struggling with depression), she wrote what she felt like was a specific word from the Lord for me concerning my husband and folded it up and placed it in a ring box she had gotten from a ring she had bought recently.

Here’s what it said:

July 5th, 2002

Jennifer,

You are being kept as a precious jewel until that time I chose to bless my faithful man with his best, most joyous reward.  You will be a great delight to his worn spirit; you will be a refreshment to him that I have saved and planned from eternity past.

He will satisfy you more than you can comprehend.  Take deep comfort in this as I make preparations!”

Well, unbeknownst to my Mom, I kept that little ring box by my Bible and devotional books and sometimes on my nightstand (this little box made it through quite a few moves I might add) and for over seven years, any time my eyes rested on it, I would pray for my future husband (and in all honesty, cry out that He would bring him in to my life right then!).

I had decided years ago that when that man finally came along (in God’s perfect timing and when His preparations were complete) and when he proposed and pulled out a ring box with a ring for my finger, that I would give him my box with God’s Word for me and him in it and explain the history of it.  After Jesse had met with my parents and they gave their blessing to proceed, I just put the box in my purse as I had no clue when he would propose but wanted to have it with me.

So, after Jesse asked me to marry him and I said YES! and he put the ring on my finger, I dug down in my purse and pulled out my ring box and gave it to him and explained it’s origin.  He opened the box, pulled out the note and began to read and tears began to fill his eyes (it was the Lord speaking directly to him as well).  When he finished reading it and as he pondered the words on it with tears in his eyes, he flipped the piece of paper over.  Well, it was a Mary Engelbreit daily calendar page (which I had looked at a thousand times over the previous 7 years that I pulled out that piece of paper and prayed for my husband)…and though I had never noticed the date as anything significant, he immediately did…the date on the calendar page was October 12…his birthday.  Tears were freely flowing from both of us at that point…how awesome and loving is our God…that over seven years ago in July of 2002, my Mom would randomly pull a piece of scrap paper out to write down a word from the Lord for me about my husband on it and that out of 365 days in the year, it would be my most wonderful gift’s birthday date!!!  He already had the answer to my heart’s cry!

How incredible is the Lord…His mercies are new every morning and though we think Him to be silent sometimes…He is not and He is certainly not inactive!

Amazing Grace

The crowd chants along with the family, “Move that bus! Move that bus!” The bus slowly pulls away, unveiling what has remained hidden. Screaming, tears, jumping, and hugging follow. The beautiful house that stands in place of the old represents not only a different place to live, but a new start. A fresh beginning. A second chance.

We love second chances. We love to hear the Cinderalla stories of people who were down on their luck but received a shot at a better life.

In Secondhand Jesus by Glenn Packiam, he says this:

In a way, that’s how many Christians view their salvation. We were down. We’d made some bad choices. But everyone does, right? Thankfully God kept believing in us, and gave us a second chance. Hallelujah! He’s the God of second chances! And that’s all we needed. We’re back on our feet now! Praise the Lord! Grace is a sort of canceling of debts and a fresh influx of capital to try the business venture one more time. It’s as if we say, Thank You for saving me, Lord. I’ll take it from here.

But grace is not just a second chance. If it were, it would not be that amazing, because no matter how hard we try or how many times we try, we cannot fully please God . . . The truth – and it is painful to admit – is that no matter how good we are, we will never be good enough to satisfy God’s holiness. And that doesn’t change even after becoming a Christian.

An interesting viewpoint on grace. I love the line, “But grace is not just a second chance.” As I ponder my view of grace, I realize I often reduce it to that. I limit the magnitude and the depth of his grace, and I make it all about me. My opportunity to do better. My reason for being a “good Christian.” Because he loves me.

Sin is heinous, and it separates us from God. Grace isn’t about getting a chance to prove to God that Jesus’s death was worth the cost. It’s about God doing for us what we could not because he is love. His story is one of redemption. Period.

Later, Packiam goes on to say, “Our response to God is not to try to repay or try to filter our behavior enough to become better. It is to surrender, completely and fully, out of love for Him.”

The response to his grace is love . . . relationship. When we let the reality of his grace permeate our lives and our souls, we don’t have to do anything; It changes us.

I don’t ponder grace very often, but I’ve been mulling it over since my friend LL invited me to do so. Now I see I need to spend more time meditating on the topic . . . because it changes everything.

Join the discussion, and even enter to win a copy of Scot McKnight’s book, The Real Mary. Some of the other participants have also posted opportunities to win books and even a guest posting on Beliefnet.

A Servant’s Heart, Part I

As my family easily drifted off to sleep after a long, full Saturday, I lay awake on my bunk considering what I would write about our experience. What am I taking away from Family Camp, aside from the fact – albeit important – that camp was fun? A particular message? A point John made during the devotional?

And what came to mind were faces.

The smile on John’s face as he welcomed us when we pulled into camp for the first time. The friendliness of Jay, who was just there to help set up, but was happy to greet us, offer his assistance if we needed anything, and tell us what exciting things to expect from our weekend. The delight in each college student’s eyes as they played with our daughter and gave her giant hugs. And the joy on her face each time she saw one of those students or when they called out to her from across the way. Mary’s warmth as she answered our questions. Clark, Emily, the kitchen staff . . . each person who served us over the weekend did so joyfully. Not as though they were doing a service, but as though they truly loved being available to us. As if they got just as much pleasure and benefit from serving us, as we did from receiving their care and thoughtfulness.

They wanted to be there. They wanted to serve us.

And I realized that this is why Jesus talks about serving others, and why he says that our love for each other is our testimony to the world. True service – that which comes out of the overflow of our love for Christ and his pouring into us – is enjoyable both to ourselves and those we serve. Servant leadership is powerful and moving. And contrary to our natural tendency.

I think of the number of times I trudge through service because it’s what I’m “supposed” to do. And certainly service does often require personal sacrifice. But it doesn’t have to look and feel like drudgery. And it becomes a shining testimony, when we can find a way to see the beauty and enjoyment in it. We have to force ourselves to look beyond the sacrifices we must make in order to serve (because that’s not the point anyway). We have the opportunity to be used by God to love his people. Imperfect, messy us – he chooses to use us! As he continues to pour into us, from our full cups we can easily pour into each other.

I left Family Camp with many thoughts and reflections, but this vivid picture of servant leadership is among the most important. That thought also got me thinking about how we are all gifted differently, and how awesome it is when we serve through those gifts . . . but that’s for another post.

Laity Lodge Family Camp – Preview

You wanted a little preview, right? Well, here’s a little bit about what you can do at Family Camp, from my daughter’s perspective.

Sunday Morning Leftovers

It was just a stack of cups, a huge bowl of M&Ms, and a simple truth I’ve heard a million times. But M&Ms have a new sweetness about them now.

“Who likes M&Ms?” asked John Hill, Director of the Laity Lodge Family Camp.

Small eyes began to sparkle and little hands shot up around the pavilion. John called about ten children forward, and each ran to the front, eager for a chocolatey treat. (While parents wondered just how many sugar-coated sweets John would give their children before brunch and the 5-hour drive home.) A collective gasp and a few “ooohs” slipped out as he tipped a bowl toward the children, revealing the endless supply of M&Ms inside.

The children quickly passed around some large plastic cup and lined up to see how – and how many – M&Ms would be distributed. “Now these M&Ms are precious, aren’t they?” asked John. The children nodded with solemn expressions. “So, we don’t want any to fall on the ground. We know those can’t be eaten.” A few children looked skeptical, but the majority agreed.

John approached the first young girl in line and proceeded to fill her cup. “Tell me when you think I should stop,” he instructed. Nearly to the top, with a broad smile across her face, she reached her limit. “Hmmmm. You know, I think I want to give you more than that. In fact, I’m just going to keep pouring. I’m not going to stop. So what are you going to do?”

The girl watched as he continued to pour into her cup. She looked around, not quite sure what to do. The other children forgot their neat line, and gathered around, watching wide-eyed as the M&Ms neared the top of the cup. Adults began to shout from around the room. The little girl grabbed an idea and poured part of her cup into the boy’s who had been next in line.

But John kept pouring M&Ms.

This time she dumped the entire cupful into another empty cup. John began to refill her cup again. Part-way full, she emptied her cup again.

And John kept pouring M&Ms.

Soon the children caught on. As their cups filled up, they emptied whatever they had into another child’s empty cup. They called more to come down from the audience and passed around additional cups. John continued to pour, and the children continued to share.

The lessons?
1. At first, the children were hesitant to pour out their entire cups, fearful that they would not receive any more.
2. John wanted to continue pouring. He didn’t want to stop.
3. If a child did not pour out any of the M&Ms, they spilled onto the floor and lay wasted, unable to be enjoyed.
4. The amount a child poured out was the only limiting factor to what could be refilled.
5. Soon the children were receiving M&Ms from both John and each other.

I’m sure you can connect all the dots here.

And perhaps, like me, you’ll never look at M&Ms the same again.

How about you? What leftovers are you thinking about?

PS – The Laity Lodge Family Camp staff served as excellent examples of the M&M object lesson. I’ll be sharing about that with you later this week. And yes, the bowl of M&Ms did eventually run out. Thankfully, God’s bowl does not.