Really?

Does anybody besides me find the story of the birth of Messiah, Jesus the Christ, to border on the absurd? After approximately one thousand and some (perhaps ten to fifteen) odd years after David is anointed by Samuel and years later when God announces to him, “Your house and your kingdom will endure forever before me; your throne will be established forever” (2Samuel 7:16), God fulfills this prophesy by placing the only Beloved in the arms of a teenage-out-of-wedlock-mother. Really? And get this? Luke wraps up the whole birth scene in two short paragraphs. Huh? Seriously, I could write an entire book—okay, at least a condensed very wordy short story—about each of the births in which I participated. Trust me, these are HUGE events. Luke just barely hits the highlights . . . she gives birth. . . wraps him up. . . places him in a manger. Oh yeah, because apparently all the hotel (inn) rooms are full because of this blasted census that Rome has decreed. Don’t even get us started about the government that has us under its thumb. (Sound familiar?)
Then the grand announcement is given to shepherds. Seriously, if you are an angel wouldn’t you think you were going to be sent to the grand halls of the capital of the Roman world? But a field near Bethlehem--huh--did I hear that right? I happen to believe the angels thought this had to be some sort of joke as well. After all, they had seen Him in His glory—just before. . . just before this? The very God---indeed, the fullness of the Godhead bodily-- is going to be dropped off in this obscure, nasty town and the only ones to hear about it are some smelly shepherds. Really? I know I’ve said that before here—but I mean it—really? So picture it. A day just like every other day before . . . just doing what you do. . . watching sheep, trying to earn a living, complaining about this or that or what-have-you. And suddenly—and suddenly—your world is invaded by a host of angels announcing the fulfillment of hundreds of years of waiting. Did the shepherds laugh? ‘Cause I think I would’ve laughed—that is, right after I got through wetting myself ‘cause of the fear and all. Then I would’ve laughed and probably God would have reminded me of Sarah (and Abraham) and how that whole laughing thing didn’t go so well. But really. . . (there’s that word again).
So, what’s the takeaway? I’m not too sure, because it seems there could be so many. And I need to resist drawing conclusions that may in fact not be accurate. One thing seems certain, God doesn’t do things they way I would. That seems obvious. I announced every one of my childrens’ births to as many people as I could. Newspapers, personalized announcements with pretty bows for the girls, manly baby blue for the boys. And if the whole world is God’s stage it seems to me He could have sent out a broader announcement. But something else weird sticks with me. God really meant that whole thing about using “the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong” (1Cor. 27). God seems to be okay with advancing His kingdom through ordinary people like us. You know the ones. . . the ones working in sawmills or factories. . . in fields raising hogs or growing corn. . . or us who are at home washing load after load of laundry and are you kidding me? You can’t be hungry---WE JUST ATE!!! Making another meal that will be devoured in thirty-seconds and then, more dishes.
Perhaps, this should cause us Americans to pause—we who have made rock stars out of our “Christian leaders”. We who think that a successful church is one that has thousands of members --or whose members all act alike and think alike. I mean, heaven forbid that you like courting while I prefer “dating with boundaries”. Or please, contemporary music cannot hold a candle to hymns. Really, if you don’t use a hymnal once during worship then—probably it’s not worship. Ouch! I’m so glad that Peter and Paul thought alike, aren’t you? Wait—oh, never mind. One takeaway might just be that we can relax a bit. God seems secure enough in His Godness to trust us with living in and thus, growing His kingdom. After all, He realizes (and perhaps we need a fresh reminder) that it is “God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose” (2Phil. 2:13). He really did send the Holy Spirit—it is His work, not ours. Relax—breathe deeply. It is His work!!! And perhaps one more takeaway just might be to expect the unexpected. How many days had the shepherd done what they do. Did they ever dream that God might just fulfill His biggest promise to the entire world-- to them-- on this, just another day? What about you? Waiting for anything God’s promised to you? Weary of another day—just like every other day? Who knows, God may just decide one day to scare the living daylights outta you when He breaks through with a promise fulfilled. I bet you’ll say, Really? Really? Well, right after you clean yourself up a bit.

What are your takeaways from this story--really--write me!!

Journeying on,

Joy

Just Being Himself

God just keeps being God, doesn't He. And when we decide, for one reason or another that we are or are not going to (fill in the blank) He often decides, in His infinite wisdom to change our minds. So it seems with us recently. You see, we were sure that our faith would grow best out unleahsed in the wild-- without the constraints of "organized church". I still think that is partly true. Our faith needs to be our own. . . not mom or dads, or even our pastors (though his often looks more robust doesn't it?)! And by constraints I mean the authoritative power which we often bestow on well-meaning (at least I hope they are, though I fear otherwise) if misguided leaders. I'll be honest--I've witnessed a "pastor" misquote scripture ( which I was staring at --then proceed to expound--INACCURATELY--upon what he had just misquoted to establish a man-made doctrine). I've been the recipient of power that was abused. And it hurts. And I say this seriously, God does not take this lightly. Orthodox theology must be true for all people in all places and at all times. We can't decide that God is far more concerned about some of our social stands than He is about His glory. The western church desperately needs to get a grip. But that really wasn't what I was going to write about. So I shall hop off the soap box.

Okay, now. . . so anyway, we thought that we would leave the confines of organized religion and pursue God out where we can feel the wind of the Holy Spirit in our faces. "Follow the wild goose" as some of our Gaelic friends would have said. And we are so thankful for the time we have met with God in our own personal spaces. It's a start toward healing our distrust. But while I'm certain that God takes very seriously the abuses done in His name--He, I'm convinced, desperately wants His children to live like family. Not like orphans. We really do have brothers and sisters here and throughout the world. So He has sent some our way. One is a pastor and his family who we really like. But more importantly, this man speaks a Word to me each Sunday that I sit under his teaching. I suspect this is of God because this pastor and his family seem so. . . not like us. Not. at. all. like. us. They are refined and classy (at least they seem to be). We, well we're the family that has ruts in the yard because my man can't seem to fit his truck on the available concrete space. Oh yeah, and he decides to grow his mammoth pumpkins in the flower beds, because "if you can't eat it, what's the point of growing it". Really, he said that. Hide your impressionable children. We. are. that. family. The ones who embarass the whole neighborhood. But my husband respects him. Is impressed with the wisdom he has seen and heard from this pastor. And I'm happy because he (the pastor) lets me add an addendum to his Sunday morning sermons. Not outloud. He isn't even aware I do it. But I come home thinking--and here is what I think today.

Today's message was about Jacob, and I do dearly love the story of the Patriarchs. Our family can relate to this type of imperfection. But three things this morning keep ringing in my head from the message:

1. We don't have to "help" God keep His promises. He is faithful. We can relax.

2. God's life for us is not necessarily the life we would have chosen for ourselves. (This is one point of orthodox theology I have wrestled with over and over and over. I don't like it--neither did Eve apparently and her choice to be in control didn't turn out so well. Mine doesn't usually either).

3. What is my stew? (You'd have to listen to the whole message and if you want just send me a comment and I'll direct you to it).

But I wanted to add the following addendum. I am convinced that if we would get in our head and in our heart that God is faithful to what He promises us--we would live in the freedom that He bought at a very high price. Second, if we would let Him, God would take that which the enemy has used to tempt us, trap us or otherwise wreak havoc in our lives- our stew-He would take that very achilles heel and use it to beat the livin' daylights out of our enemy. We were meant to live victorious. Secure. Steadfast. We were meant pull ourselves up to a "table set before us in the presence of our enemy" (Psalm 23). We have cowed to him too long. It's time to take God at His word. Ask Him to make those promises living breathing realities in our lives. I think I'm gonna.

God, help me walk the next leg of this journey unafraid,

Joy

A New Year with The Power of Six

I had this great idea for starting the new year (at least it
seemed great at the time). Now well. . .not so much!! I called it the Power of Seven (really, stop laughing). These ideas need a good title. We would pick seven areas to focus on and try
some old-fashioned fasting and deprivation to see if we couldn’t bear good
fruit. Please don’t ruin my story withthoughts of “oh, I know how this is going to turn out”—humor me, will ya’?

So, here is the list:
1. Seven foods—yep, that’s right . . . we were to pick out seven foods and eat nothing but those for seven days. Then, we each got to add in ONE food per week for the following seven weeks. I took the idea from several blog/books of people doing something similar. I don’t think any of them were doing this little experiment with five children. Hmmm. The one exception is that we were allowed to use up any remaining food (from weeks past) that was in the house. Oh thank you, thank you for crumpled bags of chip crumbs and leftover ketchup and sour cream.

2. Seven weeks of major media reduction. No TV for the children, no Facebook for me, and no internet except for email and other necessities (such as Gooseberry).

3. Seven weeks of purging: clothes, the garage, toys, books, junk drawers, closets, and I can’t remember the other one.

4. Seven weeks of daily exercise. This seems self-explanatory.

5. Seven weeks of gratitude. The older three children and I made a gratitude journal and committed to writing three things in it each day we were grateful to God for.

6. Seven weeks of serving.

7. Seven weeks of His promises. Seeking God's promises to us through His word.

Four days in and one thought comes to mind---what was I thinking? Really, as I
look over the list I think I’ll only completely abandon one—Guess which one? That’s
right. Food. My idea to restrict our diet in order to identify and relate to those in the world who live on very little has apparently backfired. Instead of empathy, I'm feeling angry (hungry) and irritable and so I'm losing the beauty of the other six. I'm totally obsessing over food!!

And then a thought occurred to me this afternoon. This is so like me!! So. like. me. And so the antithesis of what it means to walk with God. I had missed it--though one glance in His word or at His church would have reminded me that I'm not the only one. We want a God we can control. Just give me my rules. If I do this--then You'll do that. I'm a legalist junkie. I NEED ten steps to "knowing God completely and having all your prayers answered". He whispers--"it doesn't work that way". He is after my love--not my duty. And while identifying with the poor and then getting off my duff and doing something about it is certainly at the center of God's heart and will. . . my legalistic notions are not. It really is a walk and not a chore. A journey not a job.

All is not lost. I need to exercise--and Monday is looking better and better already. I am going to purge, 'cause we have WAY to much. I may avoid facebook for a while and focus on those who are in my face. . . like five little snotty-nosed cuties. I will cultivate gratefulness. . . I even have a story about my wall and some chalkboard paint and an afternoon of "not-so-craftiness" but I'll save it for a later date. Please Lord, your promises. . .Your words--they are life---send them. And then send us out to serve.

But my legalism. . . I'll unload that backpack---'cause this journey is lighter without it. And I bet a big, juicy burger is just what I need. . .

To make it one step further down the road,

Joy