Memorial Day

For some reason, Memorial Day always sneaks up on me. It’s not like other holidays where I’m counting down the days weeks and months in advance. Even on Memorial Day weekend, I feel like I should be prepped and ready to go to work on Monday.

Lately, Memorial Day has become a kind of National Cookout Day. While I do enjoy a good BBQ as much as the next guy, that’s not really the purpose. It’s about honoring all those who have laid down their lives in service to this country.

As I learned, the difference between Memorial Day and Veterans Day is that Memorial Day is for all the military members who have passed away either from being killed in the line of duty or who passed away after service. Veterans Day honors all military veterans living or dead.

It’s easy to take for granted the freedoms we have in the United States. It’s equally easy to forget that that freedom was bought with a price. Men and women have made the ultimate sacrifice for us to be able to vote, to participate in the governing process, to speak our minds freely, and to live our lives as we choose.

I remember something about sometimes what we take for granted can be taken from us. When we fail to appreciate the cost of our freedom, it becomes easy to discard or to let slip away through carelessness. But to lose our freedom would be dishonoring and disrespectful to those who died fighting for us.

I’m praying tomorrow that we can all remember those veterans at some point tomorrow. In the midst of all the partying and picnicking, may we all take a moment to pause and reflect and give thanks for those who died so that we could live in freedom.

The Greater Light of the Ancient Flame

“Give Santa Claus a place at Christmas, so long as it is not the highest place. Sing songs about flying reindeer, but let them fly lower than the angels. Set cookies and milk out on Christmas Eve, but remember that flour and sugar and cream are of lesser value than gold and frankincense and myrrh. String colored lights on every house, hang them from every tree, so long as they are lesser lights, and the greater light of the ancient flame burns brighter still” (Winter Fire: Christmas with G. K. Chesterton, Ryan Whitaker Smith).

As I’m learning, it doesn’t have to be either/or when it comes to Santa Clause or Jesus Christ, the North Pole or Bethlehem. Just as long as you keep the star of Bethlehem that shone over the place where Jesus lay in the manger over the star on your tree, you can celebrate both. At least, that’s my understanding.

What Santa represents is the spirit of giving and generosity which finds its ultimate fulfillment in the gift of Emmanuel, God with us. What the lights and decorations represent is joy, which stands on the final victory of Jesus at the cross. Every Christmas tradition points to the original Christmas story, which always points to Jesus.

And I still think the best way to celebrate Christmas is over 12 days instead of just one. But I won’t hold my breath. I won’t get upset when everybody takes down all the reminders of Christmas by the first of the new year, because I know that the real Christmas is what lives in my heart, and nothing can ever take that away.

Joy Is Coming

“Joys are always on their way to us. They are always travelling to us through the darkness of the night. There is never a night when they are not coming” (Amy Carmichael).

That’s the whole point of Advent, I think. It’s to remind us that there was a time before Christ, a world before God broke through into history and humanity and became a baby. There was a time of waiting and anticipation of the prophecies that foretold of a coming joy that would be for all the people.

That’s what Advent is all about. We wait with joy. On this side of the manger, we wait for the second coming when Jesus arrives not in a cradle but as a king, not as a lamb to be slain but as a lion to conquer.

Even in the darkest night, joy is still on the way. Even when hope seems lost and God seems furthest away, joy is getting closer and closer. In the midst of despair and death, joy is practically knocking on the door.

In this hurry up culture, we’ve relegated Christmas to one day out of the calendar year, but in ye olden days they made it into a 12 day celebration where people opened their gifts slowly, one per day, and savored the meaning of the incarnation and Emmanuel, God with us. I wish we could get back to that pace.

But even if all the decorations come down on December 26 or January 1, we can still hold on to the joy that Christmas brings. The hope doesn’t go away with the new year, but gets bigger and stronger and better as time passes. Just as the child born in the manger doesn’t live in our hearts only one day of the year but all the days of the year (from my favorite adaptation of A Christmas Carol).

Let’s not lose sight of joy in the midst of buying and wrapping and baking and decorating. The reason is that joy is almost here. God is with us. Jesus is coming soon.

Happy Birthday Adam (Also Known as Birthday Eve Eve)

As some of you may know, my birthday is Sunday. Two days away. Let the festivities begin.

The place where I work let me go early in celebration. I ended up at McKay’s Used Books, Movies, Music, and More. I’m more sure than ever that it’s Nerd Nirvana. I’m sure heaven will look a lot like McKay’s.

I picked up my usual eclectic assortment of music. I got Johnny Horton, New Riders of the Purple Sage, Santana, Genesis, Ray Lynch, Jeff Buckley, and Brian Wilson. I think that covers it.

I admit that I don’t quite look forward to birthdays in the same way that I used to. Back in the day, birthdays meant milestones– turning 10, 18, 21, and so forth.

Now the only milestones I hit are the decades. Those aren’t quite as rewarding. Mostly, you just get older.

Still, I also admit that I am more grateful for each birthday than I was for the last. I know more and more that life in general (including birthdays) isn’t something to be taken for granted. No one is entitled to live to be 90 years old and to die in a comfortable bed surrounded by loved ones.

Too many of my family and friends won’t get to reach that ripe old age. Some who were younger than I am now are gone. Just about everyday, I read about someone else who died tragically way too young. That’s sobering.

So thank you, God, for year 44. Or if you like, the 9th anniversary of being 35. That sounds less painful.

I’m also all about celebrating for as long as I can, so I will probably still be going strong on Monday. I guess I should be thankful that I wasn’t born on February 29, or I’d be celebrating turning 11.

Oh, and I do accept all forms of currency for presents, including cash, credit cards, traveler’s checks, and coins. FYI.

 

Once Again, Happy Birth-Month to Me

I’ve taken it upon myself to celebrate the whole month of February as my birth-month. Why not? I was born in the shortest month of the year (even counting the extra leap year day that comes once every four years), so I might as well milk the month for all it’s worth.

I will be 44 on February 28. I’m not ashamed of that. A lot of people didn’t get to see 44 because they died way too young. These days, anything shy of 80 is too young.

I’m thankful for my 44 years. I’m thankful for every day that I wake up and see the sun and feel the wind in my face. I don’t take these things for granted any more.

I hope to celebrate this birthday well. I’d love to have a birthday dinner at Mafiaoza’s, either at the Factory in Franklin (if it’s open by then) or at the original location on 12th Avenue South.

As usual, I accept all major credit cards, checks, cash, and gold doubloons. I love gift certificates, especially to places like Barnes and Noble, Best Buy, Target, Amazon, McKay’s, Frothy Monkey, McCreary’s Irish Pub, and any other places where they sell music, books, movies, or food. FYI.

I hope to see you during this month of festivities. I hope to have some good face-to-face conversations and catch up with as many of you as possible, especially in places where they serve coffee-based beverages. Which reminds me. I also like gift cards to Starbucks, The Well, and The Edgehill Cafe.

As I’ve mentioned previously, I see now more than ever how truly blessed I am to know the people I know and to have seen and felt the love from all of you, and especially from my Abba Father.

It’s been a very good ride so far.

 

 

My First Blog of 2016

Welcome to 2016. It’s a leap year, so we all get that extra day in February that nobody knows what to do with.

I’m thankful once again that I got another day to be alive and another chance to see another year in, even if it wasn’t with a multitude of people and loud festivities. I’m okay with that. It was just me and my sister and her family in a low-key celebration that ended up with just me and my brother-in-law ringing in the new year.

Currently, it’s 12:59 am and I’m pooped. Even after that 2 1/2 hour nap earlier, I’m still tired. I guess I know what my cat feels like most of the time.

I hope to see more of my friends face-to-face and have actual, honest-to-goodness conversations, preferably over coffee, tea, or some other beverage at a Starbucks or other similar type venue.

I hope to lose the weight I gained back after getting down to a good size. And this time, I’m keeping it off. As long as there’s no chocolate or cheesecake or any other type of food to tempt me.

I hope to see the latest installment in the Star Wars franchise, which I am apparently one of the few who hasn’t already seen it at least once. I’m thinking maybe of seeing it in IMAX 3D at some point in the next two weeks. Anyone want to join me?

As always, I look forward in anticipation to what God will do. As I read in a post earlier on Facebook, I’m trusting less in my own resolutions to do better and be better and trusting more in Jesus’ resolution to finish the good saving work He started in me way back when.

It’s now 1:06 and I am officially calling an end to this wild and crazy celebration. See you all later and may your 2016 be blessed and joyful.

 

Easter Sunday 2014

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“Almighty God, who through your only-begotten Son Jesus Christ overcame death and opened to us the gate of everlasting life: Grant that we, who celebrate with joy the day of the Lord’s resurrection, may be raised from the death of sin by your life-giving Spirit; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen”

It’s Easter.

I celebrated with about 130 or so others at the future location of The Church at Avenue South. Though the building has been gutted and won’t be ready for official use for another two months, still the real church got together to proclaim to anyone and everyone that this is Resurrection Day.

The resurrection DOES change everything. It means no more fear of death because Jesus overcame that last enemy when he walked out of the tomb with the sunrise on that first Easter Sunday. It means that whatever I’m afraid of has already been defeated and overcome by this same resurrection power that brought Jesus from death to life.

It means that there is no such thing as TOO LATE, that there’s always time for a do-over and a second chance and a fresh start, that as long as we’re alive we have a purpose and a God willing to bring out that purpose in us.

So I revisit an old Easter toast that I blogged about three years ago today: “We lift our glasses and drink to a Love that never gave up.”

https://oneragamuffin.wordpress.com/2011/04/20/an-easter-toast-stolen-from-someone-on-facebook/

I’ve posted a link so you can read the original post if you want.

Regardless, I’m glad that Easter has come. I’m glad that it isn’t just one day a year, but something that I can celebrate all 365 days (and 366 on those leap years). I’m thankful that just because the holiday ends doesn’t mean the power of that resurrection or its effects do.

 

Easter Season Liturgy Part V

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“O God, Creator of heaven and earth:  Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

So I did the whole downtown Franklin thing again. It always does my heart good to be back there, revisiting my favorite haunts and breathing in the perfect spring night air.

I don’t really know what to do with the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. It seems so low-key compared to the tragic drama of Friday and the joyful triumphant victory of Sunday.

But I know what’s coming. I wonder what those disciples were thinking and feeling. Or the Marys. It must have seemed like the lowest point of their lives. All of their hopes and dreams and been awakened and they had only just begun to hope, then it was dashed and broken to pieces beyond recognition.

The one they thought would save them was dead in a tomb. They had seem the bloodied body, seen the moment when the spear went into Jesus’ side and both blood and water poured out. There was no doubt.

I’m glad I’m on this side of history and I know what’s coming. I know with the next sunrise comes Sunday and the empty tomb and a risen Christ. That’s where my hope lies.

I can’t imagine people whose faith won’t allow for miracles or resurrections. Would that even be faith at all? What if Jesus’ death were only an example and the only way He lived was in the memories of His followers? What kind of hope would that be?

Only a literal resurrection can give true hope. Only a Jesus who’s really and truly alive, with the wounds in His hands, feet, and side, could inspire the joy of Easter. That’s why I can’t wait for tomorrow and the celebration that comes with it.

 

Palm Sunday

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“Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen” (from The Book of Common Prayer).

We celebrate Palm Sunday today.

On this day, Jesus rode into Jerusalem a hero. The crowds greeted Him with palm branches and shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

I doubt anyone could have guessed at that point that a week later those very same people would be shouting again, but this time for Him to be crucified as a common criminal.

Jesus knew. He alone knew what was really in their hearts. He wept over Jerusalem, the city who had the very Messiah they had so longed for in their very midst, but refused to recognize Him. The very ones who murdered the prophets sent by God Himself.

Jesus knew that not too long after that, Jerusalem would hardly be recognizable. In fact, it would be a ruin. The Romans, true to the prophecy, would not leave one stone standing on top of another.

I wonder when was the last time I wept for Nashville? Or my neighbors. Or the people around me who don’t know this Jesus, who don’t know that there’s a hope of a better life and a better future awaiting them?

Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours. And then spur me to do something about it.

I’m Offically As Old As Elvis

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Well, ok. The secret’s out. I’m really not 39 (again). I’m 42, the same age as Elvis was when he passed (no pun intended).

I had a great birthday. It started out with a fantastic lunch at Loveless Cafe with my mother. I even got in a nap (one of the few perks of being unemployed). I even got my taxes done. It was a great day.

It was another day where I chose to focus on the positives instead of the negatives. I chose to be thankful for all that I have instead of lamenting all that I lack. Like a job. Or money.

But I still have my wonderful family. I still have some truly amazing friends (to which I say thank you for all the Facebook birthday well-wishes). I have good health and a good God who always takes care of me.

I have the laziest (and most companionable) cat in the world. She celebrated my birthday the way she celebrates most days– with a marathon nap.

As I’ve mentioned before, a birthday is a way of celebrating survival, of making it through another year. I know I’ve talked about knowing too many people who won’t get to see their 42nd birthday, but it’s true.

Life isn’t something you should ever take for granted. It is a gift. Every day of it is a precious, once-in-a-lifetime gift that will never come again. So live it well.

By the way, I’m still accepting all forms of payment and gifts for said birthday. Just kidding. Sort of.