The holidays sometimes bring out the worst in me.
As the countdown progresses from Black Friday to Christmas Eve and beyond, I sleep less, triggering the cross and cranky button in my brain.
I fret over the rising credit card balance as I repeatedly swipe my card.
And I quake in the presence of the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future-weight gain—all the while taste-testing the cookie dough, nibbling on mixed nuts, and hoarding all the dark chocolate covered caramels in the Good’s deluxe 2 lb. gift box (the one I bought for my cousin; but then remembered she lives in Arizona and the candy will get all mushy in a hot UPS truck—so what’s a chocoholic to do, but eat it myself…).
Some days I just want to cry, “Bah, HUMBUG!” and hibernate for the holidays. Oh, but then I dream of chocolate and sleepwalk to my carefully guarded chocolate hideaway for a generous dose of serotonin and antioxidants. The mood elevator kicks in and I’m feeling fine, but then my blood sugar plummets from the sucrose overdose, so I head to the sofa for a nap—or back to the candy stash for another fix.
When the kids were young, I made a birthday cake every year and we sang “Happy Birthday” to Jesus. One year I was so out of control that I almost single-handedly devoured Jesus’ birthday cake. I’m usually indifferent to the cake, but this particular year was different. I intentionally purchased a white cake mix and frosting. I’d have to be in dire straights to eat something so “Blah, Humbug!” as white cake.
Well… I discovered that French white cake is dark chocolate’s European kissing cousin. I made countless trips to the kitchen that Christmas to slice just-a-sliver of cake. I polished it off in just under two days, six hours, and seventeen minutes.
Forever frosted in sticky, vanilla shame, I’ve not baked Jesus a cake since. Until I get to heaven, and am safe from gluttonizing Jesus’ birthday cakes, I might do well to join the Advent Conspiracy—an international movement that inspires us to replace consumption (chocolate or otherwise) with expressions of Christ’s compassion.
Here’s the plan: Give the gift of your time, presence, and relationship to loved ones and friends—and then with the money you save, make a donation to a worthy cause.
The Advent Conspiracy has overhauled my Christmas wish list. The clothes and books I asked for? Don’t need ‘em. What I really want is fresh drinking water, nutritious food, medical care, and barebones schools and school supplies—for those who do not have these simple things that I take for granted.
I especially want a goat (available via the India Gospel League for only $85). I think I’ll name her Grace. “Baa-a- (no humbug needed) a-a-a!”
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
WALKING BUDDIES: Part 22 - Family Reunion - December 6, 2008
The Lord said to Jacob, “Go back to the land of your
fathers and to your relatives, and I will be with you.”
Genesis 31:3
Family reunions can be stressful. A pastor once told me that he does far more family counseling in the aftermath of Thanksgiving than at any other time of the year.
In some families, there are personality clashes that set everyone on an anticipatory edge, dreading yet another unfestive family fiasco. The stew of dysfunction is already brewing...
On the other end of the spectrum are the families in which individuals, or even groups of kin, haven’t spoken to each other for years. It may even be taboo to mention the outcast’s name.
After stealing his brother’s birthright and blessing, Jacob fled his family, fearing that his twin brother, Esau, might kill him. He’d not broken bread with his family for over twenty years. The cutoff in this family was cavernous.
And now God was instructing Jacob to return to the scene of his deceit. It was with both fear and longing that Jacob obediently set out with his growing family and flocks for a momentous family reunion.
As Jacob drew near to his homeland, he sent messengers to Esau saying, “Your servant Jacob says, ‘I have been staying with Laban and have remained there till now… Now I am sending this message to my lord, that I may find favor in your eyes.’” (Genesis 32: 4-5 NIV)
When his messengers returned with the news that Esau was coming to meet Jacob—with 400 men—Jacob was afraid and prepared for the possibility of being attacked. He divided his people and herds into groups which he sent out ahead of himself and his wives and children, each with a generous peace offering for Esau.
The pivot point on which this story turns is prayer. Jacob was in conversation with God, both in listening for God’s voice and in baring his heart to his intimately involved, loving God: "O Lord… I am unworthy of all the kindness and faithfulness… Save me, I pray, from the hand of my brother Esau…" (Genesis 32:10-11 NIV)
Despite his long history of deception, God loved Jacob and gave him much more than the desires of his heart: “Esau ran to meet Jacob and embraced him; he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. And they wept.” (Genesis 33:4 NIV) Gazing at Esau through his tears, Jacob uttered, “…to see your face is like seeing the face of God…” (Genesis 33:10 NIV)
Is there a rift in your heart and family that needs healing this Christmas? If so, may you be encouraged by the reunion of Jacob and Esau.
How have you been a Jacob, robbing your family of God’s blessing?
How have you been an Esau, betrayed and hurt?
Life is too short and too precious to waste even a nanosecond in hardness of heart or paralyzed in pain. Like Jacob, may you be obedient and repentant. And like Esau, may your face be as the face of God.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
WALKING BUDDIES: Part 21 - Deceived Deceiver - November 27, 2008
Based on
Genesis 29:1-30 NIV
Have you heard the latest on what’s going on with Laban’s girls?”
“No, I guess I missed that episode.”
The two women were gossiping while walking to the community well.
“Well, Lydia, overheard Laban’s servant telling one of my mistress’ maidservants that Laban pulled one over on his nephew, Jacob.”
“That young man who turned up out of nowhere claiming to be Laban’s sister’s son?”
“Yeah, that one—the guy who, rumor has it, was running from his twin brother, Esau, for some suspicious dealings.”
“Well, well, well…I’ve always been a bit leery of that one—too good lookin’ and too smooth-talking, if you get my drift.”
“Anyway, I’m sure you knew that Jacob agreed to work for Laban for seven years for the hand of his daughter, Rachael. The wedding was last Saturday and you’ll never guess what happened!”
“So, tell me, already.”
“Supposedly, the morning after consummating the union, Jacob discovered that he’d married Leah!”
“No! No way!”
“Yes, way! Laban gave him some lame excuse about it being the custom that the eldest daughter has to marry first.”
“Now, wait a minute. That’s not a lame excuse; that IS the custom.”
"Oh, yeah. Jacob was so distraught that when Laban said he could marry Rachel right away, if he promised to work for him for another seven years, Jacob jumped at the offer.”
“That Laban sure is shrewd, marrying off both daughters and getting fourteen years of labor out of Jacob, for free.”
“Well, you know what they always say: what goes around, comes around.”
“Hmmm…Jacob must have been quite a huckster himself to deserve such bad luck!”
“Don’t you know it!”
“So, what else is new?”
“WELL! I just heard so-and-so say such-and-such about you-know-who…”
-------------------------------------
What goes around, comes around? Or was Jacob simply reaping the consequences of his own poor choices?
I’m guessing that Jacob didn’t learn his lesson completely after deceiving his father and brother and fleeing for his life. I think it’s likely that he continued to be deceptive in his dealings with Laban. And Laban—a con man himself—was on to Jacob. Laban managed to out-deceive the deceiver, no easy task!
Deception continues to fan the flaming tongue of gossip—that’s why newscasts, crime shows, who-done-it novels, soap operas, tabloids and gossip columns are so popular. Honesty may be the best policy, but it’s…well, boring; it’s straight-forward, not intriguing.
While I would never admit this to a soul, I sometimes get a sick sense of satisfaction when a duper gets duped. It fortifies my “holier than thou” persona (when eroded by my own duplicitous omissions and commissions). And focusing on your dishonesty keeps me from attending to my own.
“Love makes the world go round,” but deception lends depth, contours, twist and turns. Imagine watching the in-a-perfect-world version of the soap, “As the World Turns.” No lying, cheating, betrayal, murder = BLAH!
Would you choose a perfect world, if given the chance?
I would, but only if I’m allowed to overindulge in chocolate and pizza—and drive over the speed limit occasionally!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
WALKING BUDDIES: Part 20 - Jacob's Ladder - November 15, 2008
As a child, I experienced a repetitive dream in which bears escaped from the zoo and were terrorizing the city. People were evacuating and I was left behind to fend for myself. I would run and lock myself in the bathroom, but the bears could eat through the door. Somehow, I always awoke before they ate me. I think the bears symbolized my older brother (Sorry Mike; I couldn’t resist!).
Jacob, who ran from his older brother, Esau, had a doozy of a dream, too, which came on the heels of his father’s blessing (“May God give you of heaven's dew and of earth's richness—an abundance of grain and new wine. May nations serve you and peoples bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and may the sons of your mother bow down to you. May those who curse you be cursed and those who bless you be blessed.”)
At the end of a weary day of running, the sun settled on the fugitive. Jacob plumped up a stone and rested his head, drifting into a fitful sleep, his father’s blessing fresh in his mind. He dreamt of a stairway rising to heaven with angels ascending and descending on it. And then God spoke to the sleeping Jacob:
"I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”
Think about it. Jacob had maliciously stolen his brother’s birthright and blessing, and yet, God chose to bless him—unconditionally.
"Surely the Lord is in this place and I was not aware of it,” uttered an awed Jacob. “…This is none other than the house of God…the gate of heaven.” Jacob then took the stone on which he had rested his head, set it up as a pillar, and named the place Bethel (House of God).
Unable to fully comprehend God’s grace, nor fully trust the divine promise, Jacob made his commitment to the God of Grace conditional: "If God will:
· be with me,
· watch over me on this journey,
· give me food to eat and clothes to wear, and
· return [me] safely to my father's house,
then the Lord will be my God.”
If…then…
How often do I put conditions on my commitments to God? More often than I would like to admit—like, maybe, 99.9% of the time!
“You are a chosen people…a people belonging to God.”
1 Peter 2:9 NIV
Jacob, who ran from his older brother, Esau, had a doozy of a dream, too, which came on the heels of his father’s blessing (“May God give you of heaven's dew and of earth's richness—an abundance of grain and new wine. May nations serve you and peoples bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and may the sons of your mother bow down to you. May those who curse you be cursed and those who bless you be blessed.”)
At the end of a weary day of running, the sun settled on the fugitive. Jacob plumped up a stone and rested his head, drifting into a fitful sleep, his father’s blessing fresh in his mind. He dreamt of a stairway rising to heaven with angels ascending and descending on it. And then God spoke to the sleeping Jacob:
"I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”
Think about it. Jacob had maliciously stolen his brother’s birthright and blessing, and yet, God chose to bless him—unconditionally.
"Surely the Lord is in this place and I was not aware of it,” uttered an awed Jacob. “…This is none other than the house of God…the gate of heaven.” Jacob then took the stone on which he had rested his head, set it up as a pillar, and named the place Bethel (House of God).
Unable to fully comprehend God’s grace, nor fully trust the divine promise, Jacob made his commitment to the God of Grace conditional: "If God will:
· be with me,
· watch over me on this journey,
· give me food to eat and clothes to wear, and
· return [me] safely to my father's house,
then the Lord will be my God.”
If…then…
How often do I put conditions on my commitments to God? More often than I would like to admit—like, maybe, 99.9% of the time!
“You are a chosen people…a people belonging to God.”
1 Peter 2:9 NIV
Based on Genesis 27:16-28:22 NIV
Sunday, November 9, 2008
EVAN'S FIRST HALLOWEEN
It's a bird! It's a plane!
No! It's Evie the Bumb
le Bee!
le Bee! There's nothing cooler
than bee-ing the Nana
of a bumble bee.
He has my heart a buzzin'.
WALKING BUDDIES: Part 19 - Walking in Deception - November 8, 2008
Deception can be fun. Take Halloween, for example. What child doesn’t love to dress up and pretend to be Spider Man, Snow White, or something scary like Frankenstein? One year, my nephew Jeff dressed up as the Empire State Building and his toddler daughter, Lauren, dressed up as King Kong, taking first place in their community costume competition. Even as adults we enjoy masquerading and deceiving others, just for the fun of it.
I think it would be great fun for my husband and me to dress up as a duo of dice. Grocery cartons spray painted white with black dots would make an easy, inexpensive and clever costume. Rex dismisses dice as a dorky idea—and this from the man who practices optometry on Halloween wearing a mask with a bloody eyeball falling out of its socket.
Looks may be deceiving, but deception is not limited to the venue of vision. Jacob, the son of Isaac, is known for his deceptive finesse. When his father was dying, Jacob donned a disguise in order to appear to be his twin brother, Esau, with the intent of cheating him out of the blessing traditionally bestowed on the eldest son. His duplicity took advantage of the fact that Isaac was blind, and Jacob was able to fool his father by covering his arms and neck with goat skin to mimic Esau’s hairiness. Because Esau was a herder, the odor of the hide further convinced Isaac that he was blessing his eldest son.
This was the second time Jacob used his wiliness against his brother. When Esau came to him hungry and asked for a bowl of the stew Jacob was cooking, Jacob agreed to his request—under one condition:
“First sell me your birthright.”
Esau replied, “I am about to die. What good is the birthright to me?”
To seal the deal, Jacob added, "Swear to me first.” Esau complied.
A cunning opportunist, Jacob knew his brother’s Achilles’ heel and took advantage of Esau in a moment of weakness. Like Isaac, his father, Jacob usurped the blessings of the firstborn son. In Isaac’s case, his father, Abraham, favored Isaac over Ishmael. In Jacob’s case, however, he defied tradition and adroitly appropriated both Esau’s birthright and blessing.
Fearing Esau’s anger, Jacob fled and did not return for many years. In spite of the major fault line in Jacob’s character, God had his eye on Jacob to become a major player in the lineage of the Messiah. God orchestrated events to sculpt the deceiver into a man of Godly character.
We leave Jacob scurrying away from the repercussions of his deception and will follow his journey over the next few weeks. In the meanwhile, how do you play the deceiver in your life? What consequences of deception are you running from? How is God honing your character?
We are God’s workmanship,
created in Christ Jesus to do good works,
which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 2:10 NIV
I think it would be great fun for my husband and me to dress up as a duo of dice. Grocery cartons spray painted white with black dots would make an easy, inexpensive and clever costume. Rex dismisses dice as a dorky idea—and this from the man who practices optometry on Halloween wearing a mask with a bloody eyeball falling out of its socket.
Looks may be deceiving, but deception is not limited to the venue of vision. Jacob, the son of Isaac, is known for his deceptive finesse. When his father was dying, Jacob donned a disguise in order to appear to be his twin brother, Esau, with the intent of cheating him out of the blessing traditionally bestowed on the eldest son. His duplicity took advantage of the fact that Isaac was blind, and Jacob was able to fool his father by covering his arms and neck with goat skin to mimic Esau’s hairiness. Because Esau was a herder, the odor of the hide further convinced Isaac that he was blessing his eldest son.
This was the second time Jacob used his wiliness against his brother. When Esau came to him hungry and asked for a bowl of the stew Jacob was cooking, Jacob agreed to his request—under one condition:
“First sell me your birthright.”
Esau replied, “I am about to die. What good is the birthright to me?”
To seal the deal, Jacob added, "Swear to me first.” Esau complied.
A cunning opportunist, Jacob knew his brother’s Achilles’ heel and took advantage of Esau in a moment of weakness. Like Isaac, his father, Jacob usurped the blessings of the firstborn son. In Isaac’s case, his father, Abraham, favored Isaac over Ishmael. In Jacob’s case, however, he defied tradition and adroitly appropriated both Esau’s birthright and blessing.
Fearing Esau’s anger, Jacob fled and did not return for many years. In spite of the major fault line in Jacob’s character, God had his eye on Jacob to become a major player in the lineage of the Messiah. God orchestrated events to sculpt the deceiver into a man of Godly character.
We leave Jacob scurrying away from the repercussions of his deception and will follow his journey over the next few weeks. In the meanwhile, how do you play the deceiver in your life? What consequences of deception are you running from? How is God honing your character?
We are God’s workmanship,
created in Christ Jesus to do good works,
which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 2:10 NIV
Sunday, November 2, 2008
WALKING BUDDIES: Part 18 - River Walking - November 1, 2008
Sun speckled water gurgles over rocks in a shallow spot in the stream, a glistening mountain range of ripples erupts, mimicking the jutting rocks and mounded stones swept smooth by rushing water. I clamber precariously along the rock-studded shoreline, my pink t-shirt adorned with burrs. I flounder for firm footing on the rock-strewn, shifting floor beneath my hiking boots. My rusty colored footwear mimics the color and wear-and-tear of the languid leaves lazily parachuting from the towering, splotchy-barked sycamores.
I grapple my way toward a boulder hunkered in the shallows. The mat gray ottoman is creviced on top, the indentation filled with morning’s rain. I sweep out the water and leaves that have collected and situate my denim-clad rump as comfortably as possible as bone on rock can be. Following readjustments of my derrière, I dig into my shiny black knapsack and pull out a book entitled The Tree.
Panda, my walking buddy, wanders off, clad in a bright orange “don’t shoot me—I’m not a deer!” blanket snapped securely under her russet chin and white breast. Her mouth hangs open, a pink tongue lopping out the side embellishing a goofy grin. My golden girl, with white fur peppering her muzzle, is in the height of her golden years. But the sparkle in her umber eyes and her agility as she darts to and fro, belie her years.
“Are you a happy girl, Panda?”
With a wag of her tail, Panda trots down the path and disappears into a dense patch of wizened nettles. I turn to my book, its pages crumbled and stained with splotchy, mud colored paw prints. “The resin from the balsam fir becomes the finest cement for optical instruments.” Hmmm… imagine that.
While I’m immersed in botanic wonderment, Panda slinks gingerly into the flowing water, acutely focused on a man and dog on the far shore. I look up just in time to see Panda traversing the river.
“Panda! Get back here, right now!” I yell, authoritatively. Practicing selective hearing, Panda continues on.
With a sigh of disgust, I rise from my perch and begrudgingly slosh into the chilly water and lumber after my wayward dog. Observing my dilemma, the man and dog disappear out of sight. Panda decides to obey and heads back, glancing my way with a glint in her eyes and a smirk on her upturned lips as she passes me.
“Lord, please keep me from falling,” I blurt. Watching my feet, the sun-glinted ripples in the water dizzy me and I momentarily falter. Fully expecting a splashdown, I regain balance. “Thank you, God!” My landlubber boots squish and squash back to my rock. I tether Panda; she’ll wander no more.
In my walk with God, I am often a Panda: I follow the siren call of curiosity and teeter and totter out of God’s will.
“Linda, get back here right now!”
“Yes, Father.”
…though she stumble, she will not fall,
for the Lord upholds her with his hand.
Psalm 37:24
I grapple my way toward a boulder hunkered in the shallows. The mat gray ottoman is creviced on top, the indentation filled with morning’s rain. I sweep out the water and leaves that have collected and situate my denim-clad rump as comfortably as possible as bone on rock can be. Following readjustments of my derrière, I dig into my shiny black knapsack and pull out a book entitled The Tree.
Panda, my walking buddy, wanders off, clad in a bright orange “don’t shoot me—I’m not a deer!” blanket snapped securely under her russet chin and white breast. Her mouth hangs open, a pink tongue lopping out the side embellishing a goofy grin. My golden girl, with white fur peppering her muzzle, is in the height of her golden years. But the sparkle in her umber eyes and her agility as she darts to and fro, belie her years.
“Are you a happy girl, Panda?”
With a wag of her tail, Panda trots down the path and disappears into a dense patch of wizened nettles. I turn to my book, its pages crumbled and stained with splotchy, mud colored paw prints. “The resin from the balsam fir becomes the finest cement for optical instruments.” Hmmm… imagine that.
While I’m immersed in botanic wonderment, Panda slinks gingerly into the flowing water, acutely focused on a man and dog on the far shore. I look up just in time to see Panda traversing the river.
“Panda! Get back here, right now!” I yell, authoritatively. Practicing selective hearing, Panda continues on.
With a sigh of disgust, I rise from my perch and begrudgingly slosh into the chilly water and lumber after my wayward dog. Observing my dilemma, the man and dog disappear out of sight. Panda decides to obey and heads back, glancing my way with a glint in her eyes and a smirk on her upturned lips as she passes me.
“Lord, please keep me from falling,” I blurt. Watching my feet, the sun-glinted ripples in the water dizzy me and I momentarily falter. Fully expecting a splashdown, I regain balance. “Thank you, God!” My landlubber boots squish and squash back to my rock. I tether Panda; she’ll wander no more.
In my walk with God, I am often a Panda: I follow the siren call of curiosity and teeter and totter out of God’s will.
“Linda, get back here right now!”
“Yes, Father.”
…though she stumble, she will not fall,
for the Lord upholds her with his hand.
Psalm 37:24
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