Christ

10 Years Later

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In all the hoopla of gift-giving and gift-getting (not forgetting all the food-eating and dessert-eating), I almost forgot a very important anniversary.

It was 10 years to the day on December 24 that my beloved cat, Lucy, came home again after getting out and having an adventure. A very un-Hobbitlike adventure.

She somehow managed to get out and get lost on December 22. All the frantic searching in the world on the next day produced nothing. I vividly remember being distraught and very emotional. I had all but given up hope of ever seeing her again.

We had put up flyers all over the neighborhood. These flyers had her name, age, description, approximate weight, and a black-and-white photo. Apparently, on December 24, the mailman recognized the picture and informed us that she was taking up residence in a neighbor’s garage down the street.

I can imagine her trotting up to a strange lady and saying something like, “I’ve lost my family. Will you be my family?” Of course, this isn’t Narnia, so she wouldn’t actually say these things, but it would all be implied by her meowings.

Apparently, she got rained on a bit, got her nose scraped a bit, and had a few traumatic events, but came out of it the same old weird, goofy cat she’d always been.

I got her back on Christmas Eve. That remains my best gift.

She’s had a few other adventures since then, including a cancer scare which she thankfully survived.

Thinking back on the whole thing, I’m reminded that for those who want to come home, there’s always a way. Even more so with God.

No one who wants to find God, earnestly and truly, and know Him will be denied. All who seek Him in truth find Him and find at the same time that really He was the one seeking them. He was the one pursuing them and wooing them. The only way we ever find and love God is that He first finds and loves us.

And that goes for all the prodigals out there. The Father still waits and looks down the road for those who want to come home. Better than that, He already knows where you are and is whispering the way home to your heart. There is always a way back and a way home.

My reward is that I’ve gotten 10 years of feline therapy and free cat-scans. Your reward for seeking God isn’t as much the gifts and blessings from God, but God Himself. That’s still the best part.

I Believe, I Believe. It’s Silly, But I Believe

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I love the little girl in Miracle on 34th Street. She’s like me and so many others who really and truly want to believe but seem to be running low on faith.

Sometimes, faith IS believing in things when common sense tells you not to. Faith really is the art of believing still even after circumstances and life events haven’t gone your way.

Maybe you’re single with no hope of a spouse in sight, yet you cling tenaciously to a slender thread of faith.

Maybe you’re married to an unbelieving spouse and it’s all you can do to mouth the words ” All things are possible” when it comes to your mate’s salvation.

Maybe it’s a wayward prodigal child or an illness that lingerd. Maybe it’s a dead end job that makes you feel like you’re living a dead end life. Maybe it’s just a general sense of hopelessness and despair.

There’s wisdom in that little girl’s mantra. Good things come to those who keep waiting and hoping. God’s best comes to those who refuse to quit despite everyone else telling them to give up.

I don’t know your specifics or your situation, but I do know God. He hasn’t broken a promise yet or failed to keep His Word. Ever.

Faith isn’t so much holding on to God, but being firmly convinced that He’s holding on to you with everything He’s got and He won’t let go.

We believe, Lord. Help our unbelief.

Amen.

Another Boxing Day Has Come and Gone

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It’s Boxing Day. At least for another 53 minutes.

All I know of this holiday is that it is celebrated in Canada and that it involves leaving gifts for those in need, or alms, in boxes outside our homes. I would look it up on Wikipedia, but I am beyond sleepy and not inclined for that much brain activity.

I had another great night in downtown Franklin. I ate at McCreary’s Irish Pub, which almost feels like a home away from home because the people who work there seem almost like a second family.

I finally got to see The Sound of Music on a big screen, Franklin Theatre-style. That was worth way more than $5.50.

I took lots of pictures with my iPhone. They’re all posted on my Facebook page, so look me up and see all my pics there.

As you might have already guessed, I’m running low on creativity tonight. I supposed I’m all boxed out. Ha.

On a day when most people have already moved on from Christmas, I’m still listening to Christmas music. I finally found my Ultimate Christmas MP3 CD with over 13 hours of hand-picked favorites. Apparently, I have way too many favorites.

I’m still thankful for the Baby born in a manger, whether it was actually on December 25 (which is highly doubtful) or in the spring (which is more likely). What matters isn’t when He came, but who He came for– you and me.

It’s good to be reminded again that I mattered enough to Someone for Him to come into my world and find me and save me from myself and my sins and my mess.

That’s all for now.

I Wonder as I Wander

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I came home from a Christmas Eve service a little bummed. Not for any specific reason. Just that I was tired and thinking once again about all I didn’t have instead of what I do.

Then I saw it. I saw the setting sun reflected off the still waters of a shallow pond. It was almost as if God gave me that moment to remind me that what I DO have matters so much more than what I DON’T.

I started wondering a few things:

I wonder if Mary mourned the loss of all she gave up when God called her. I know it seems strange, almost sacreligious, to think such a thing.

But Mary was a teenager who must have had her own dreams and her own fantasies of how her life would turn out. None of them involved an unexplainable (in human terms) pregnancy or giving birth to a Son whom she would witness being unfairly tried, tortured, and publicly executed.

God’s dreams often require that we give up not just bad things, but even some good and even very good things if they’re not God’s best for us. Letting go of those things can feel like a death knell to our hearts even if we know something better is coming.

Mary could have had a normal marriage with normal children and been well-respected in her community and taken no flack. But no one would ever have remembered her name.

God has a dream for you in His heart that sometimes won’t make sense. At times, it will feel too much like a letting go and giving up of much that we hold dear. It will be painful at times, like losing a part of your heart.

The payoff is so much more than worth it. Mary got to see the Messiah, hold Him in her arms, see Him grow up, and watch Him prove that not even that horrific death could hold Him down.

She got to see with her own eyes the salvation of the world. Her own salvation.

I call that more than worth it.

A Prayer Before Sleep

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Lord,

I confess that I am selfish and self-centered, like so many of your children. My comfort comes first and I don’t want to be inconvenienced in any way.

Remind me how you gave up all your comforts above to come dwell among us.

Remind me how you chose a poor teenage girl and a backwoods town and a dirty feeding trough to make your entrance into this world. There was nothing comfortable or convenient about Your arrival.

Remind me how the first to hear the good news weren’t royalty or the high-ranking or the well-to-do but some lowly unwashed shepherds out with their flocks. They were your first evangelists, your first preachers, your first missionaries.

Remind me how you gave up Heaven and all the rights associated with it and chose to become nothing, a slave who was faithful and obedient to the point of a tortuous and excruciating death on a cross.

Remind me how it was all for me. It was all for people just like me.

Never let me forget that you went through all that because you would rather go through hell for me than be in Heaven without me.

Tell me again how You are with me, how You will never leave me nor forsake me, how You will finish what you started in me, and how nothing is too hard for You– not even my stubborn streak and my hard-headedness or my hard-heartedness.

Thank you that Advent means you love me where you found me like I was but you refused to leave me that way.

Amen.

In One Week

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Yes, sports fans. Christmas Eve is but seven days away. That’s exactly one week.

In other words, if you’re like me and haven’t even started your Christmas shopping, it’s time to get crackin’.

I recommend online shopping and avoiding any malls like the plague. I also recommend partaking of a cheg-nog (chai tea + egg nog) from Starbucks at least once during the week.

And on a side note, I’ll take a “Merry Christmas” or a “Happy Holidays” in stride. I’d rather hear a “Happy Holidays” spoken with warmth and good cheer any day of December over a “Merry Christmas” spoken with belligerence and hostility.

It’s not as much about keeping CHRIST in CHRISTmas as it is keeping His love and joy in your heart and sharing it with everyone, regardless of whether they say the right season’s greetings.

Rant over.

More than anything this Christmas, I want all my family together happy and healthy, to see my friend who’s in town for the holidays at LEAST once, to have more cheg-nogg, and to finally have time to read my new Ann Voskamp book.

I want Jesus to be at home in my heart and for people to want to meet Him after meeting me.

I want one day to be able to sleep in with no alarm set for a 5 am wake-up call.

I want each of you to have a very blessed and merry Christmas AND a happy 2014!

Untitled Blog #1,239

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Yeah, it was a Monday. A 12-hour workday Monday.

Normally, that recipe makes for one grumpy Greg. But not today.

God reminded me that joy is a choice that I must make every single day, even on a cold winter Monday at 6 am.

Thanksgiving means not seeing a long work day ahead but me having a job, not me having an annoying cough that sounds like a car that won’t start but me being awake and alive.

I still have those people I don’t get. One won’t ever speak to me unless I speak to her first and even then she sometimes doesn’t respond. One I’ve pretty much learned to leave alone and pray for from a distance.

But God still can teach me something in every circumstance and use every person I meet as a blessing, a lesson, or a caution.

I’m learning to slow down and appreciate the small moments, the short conversations, the texts, these moments of quiet grace.

I lost my joy for a little while. I took my eyes off of Jesus and got swamped by worry, fear, and lack. I bemoaned all that I didn’t have instead of practicing the art of thanksgiving for all that I do have.

Right now, I’m thankful for friends who still want to know me after I’ve gone a little nutty on them, white chocolate covered oreos, my Jeep, a faithful 13-year old feline, a warm soft bed, and for Jesus. Most of all, for Jesus.

God Loves Even Hot Messes, Right?

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I confess. I am a mess.

Ooo, I was just a poet and didn’t know it.

But I am a mess.

Sometimes, I frighten people with my friendliness. It comes across too strong a little too early. I am an acquired taste, a bit odd and unusual. And sometimes I confuse someone who is friendly and nice to everybody with someone who genuinely wants to be my friend.

In other words, I’m unique.

So are you.

Maybe you’ve tried way too hard to make someone like you or be your friend.

Maybe you’ve wondered why all the people in your life seem gradually withdraw from you and go away after a while. Maybe even family members. Or spouses. The ones closest to you who you thought would always be there.

Here’s the thing. To God, you’re beautiful. To God, you’re a priceless work of art. To God, your worth is more than the very lifeblood of His only Son, all the agony and torture of a painful death on a cross. You matter.

I’ve come to believe the right people will see your mess and stick around anyway.

The right people will call out the good they see in you and help you to see it in yourself. They will help you remember that song in your heart when you’ve forgotten the words.

Even a Van Gogh painting probably looked like a mess when it was still in progress. And that’s what you are, dear friend.

A work in progress. A masterpiece in the making. Heaven’s poetry etched onto lives, as one translation of Ephesians 2:10 puts it.

Don’t despair. Don’t give up or give in to the pressure to be someone else or (perish the very idea) try to be normal.

Take courage, dear heart. God made you to be you. He delights in you being you. He’s even helping you find your truest self, the “youest” you.

Christmas is all about messes. Do you think the manger scene was pristine? Do you think the place where Jesus arrived was a 5-star hotel? It was not.

If Jesus arrived in the middle of a messy manger, then He above anyone understands what messes look like and how to make them clean. Not better, not improved, but new.

Celebrate that you’re you and no one else. One day, you’ll find out that your part in God’s Story might not have been the leading role, but it was vital to the Story and you made a difference in the outcome.

These are just the thoughts of one hot mess directed to all the other hot messes out there.

Another Beautiful Advent Prayer

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“Lord Jesus,

Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.

We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.

We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.

To you we say, ‘Come Lord Jesus!’

Amen”

PS We who have felt abandonment, rejection, alienation, loneliness, and being forgotten yearn for Immanuel, God with us, to come among us and remind us of our worth in the eyes of our Abba and Heavenly Father.

Amen.

Advent Is For You

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Maybe you know the feeling.

Maybe a certain someone at work is friendly to everyone else but you.

Maybe you’ve set your heart on someone only to have that feeling go unreturned and maybe even unackowledged.

Maybe you feel alone in a crowd, unwanted and invisible.

Maybe you’ve even felt that the world would be better off without you in it.

Maybe you feel like no one will ever choose you, that no one will ever desire you, that no one will love you in the way you’ve always dreamed of being loved.

Advent says differently.

Advent says God saw you at your worst and thought you were worth saving.

Advent says God loved you so much and couldn’t bear to be without you to the point that He put on human skin to be born in the lowliest way to the lowliest people to show that no one is beneath His grace.

Advent says that God’s love for you is more than academic and theoretical. That love led Him from a manger to a cross, where His death once and for all gave your life meaning and purpose and value. He really did think you were to die for.

In the next 13 days, it’s always good to remember those we love and choose gifts that represent how much the people in our lives mean to us.

But don’t forget the best gift is already given. The best gift came wrapped in cloth, delivered in a dirty animal feeding trough, born to die so that you who are dead may know what it means to come alive to God and everything good.

What is my gift in return? Me. What is your gift? You.

Not your good works. Not your best intentions. Not your trophies and awards.

You. Right where you are, just as you are, warts and scars and all.

Like 2,000 years ago in a little barn, all God is looking for is a place to start.