Christmas with the King

I ran across a Christmas poem that resonated with me deeply. This year, I have known people who have lost loved ones. I was blessed to be a part of a crew of deacons that went caroling Sunday at the homes of a couple of our widows.

This poem speaks to the Christmas experience of those who are no longer here with us. I think they’re probably having their best Christmas season ever. And the good news is that for them it never ends.

“Martha Bennett sent us this encouraging poem in a Christmas Card. Thanks Martha, Thanks for your encouragement.

I’m spending Christmas with Jesus this Year

I see the countless Christmas trees
Around the world below
With tiny lights like heavens stars
Reflecting on the snow

The sight is so spectacular,
Please wipe away that tear.
For I’m am spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs,
That people hold so dear.
But the sound of music can’t compare,
With the Christmas Choir up here.

For I have no words to tell you,
The joy their voices bring,
For it is beyond description,
To hear an angel sing.

I can’t tell you of the splendor,
Or the peace here in this place.
Can you just imagine Christmas,
With our Savior face to face?

Please let your hearts be joyful,
And let your spirit sing.
For I am spending Christmas in heaven,
And walking with the King!”

As Billy Graham said that when you hear he had died, it was not true. He had simply changed his address. That’s true for all those we love who aren’t here this year. They’ve simply changed their address, and their faith has been made sight.

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.

Weeping Prayers

This is not me currently, but I know a few people who are navigating the process of grieving a loved one. It’s never an easy process and even though I’ve been around a while, I still can’t say that grief is a natural process because death really isn’t natural. It’s a product of the fall brought about by sin and not in God’s original design.

I do believe that God hears weeping as a prayer as much as He will hear your words and desires of your heart. The Bible says that God collects our tears in a bottle. I know that someone in deep grief may not have anything more than tears to offer to God, and that is enough.

As a reminder, there is no time limit on grief, because grief is the price of love this side of heaven. It will never be right that the person isn’t here. It will never be right that you will never hear that familiar voice or see that face again until heaven.

I love the fact that Jesus, knowing He was about to call His friend Lazarus out of the grave, still wept over his death. He wept over the grief of his friends who had no inkling of the coming miracle. He wept to show that we can believe in heaven and the resurrection and still be sad at the same time.

So I’m saying that there’s no shame in grief. Sometimes tears can be the only prayers we have.

Interceding for Our Enemies

“In prayer we go to our enemies, to stand at their side. We are with them, near them, for them before God. Jesus does not promise us that the enemy we love, we bless, to whom we do good, will not abuse and persecute us. They will do so. But even in doing so, they cannot harm and conquer us if we take this last step to them in intercessory prayer. Now we are taking up their neediness and poverty, their being guilty and lost, and interceding for them before God. We are doing for them in vicarious representative action what they cannot do for themselves. Every insult from our enemy will only bind us closer to God and to our enemy. Every persecution can only serve to bring the enemy closer to reconciliation with God, to make love more unconquerable.

How does love become unconquerable? By never asking what the enemy is doing to it, and only asking what Jesus has done. Loving one’s enemies leads disciples to the way of the cross and into communion with the crucified one” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

It’s gotten so bad in this current cultural climate that we can’t abide dissenting views. We’ve gone past the point where we used to be able to debate and listen rationally to opposing viewpoints. Now anyone who disagrees with me must not only be wrong and ignorant but evil. We have turned our social media into echo chambers where we only allow voices that say the same things we say and agree with.

But that’s not the way of Jesus at all. His way is interceding for enemies. Remember that Jesus forgave His own enemies while they were in the very act of murdering Him. He prayed for the very ones who drove the nails into His wrists and feet (and the ones who shouted the loudest for Him to be crucified).

In this election season, it’s easy to turn it into us versus them and to turn “them” off so that we can have peace. But again, that’s not the way of Jesus. We are to pray for our very enemies the way Jesus prayed (and still prays) for us. We are to love them the same way Jesus loved (and still loves) us.

Is it easy? No. Is it possible? Humanly speaking, no, but only through the resurrection power of Jesus in us. Only through daily dependence and renewal by Jesus. Only by the grace that saved us in the first place.

You could pray for your enemies like you would want someone to whom you were an enemy to pray for you. And believe me, everyone has enemies. No matter how nice or accommodating you might be, you still have enemies.

Above all, remember that we all were once God’s enemies. And what did He do? He sent Jesus who loved us first before we ever loved Him, loved us best by dying for us, and loved us everlastingly from the foundation of the world until forever.

Even If . . .

“Even if today didn’t go as planned, Lord
and if it’s not at all what we hoped,
and if “we’re* not yet quite what we hoped,
and if life’s not unfolding to our Plan A
and if it’s not even close to Plan B
and if the diagnosis is not great
and if the forecast is not good
and if not… and if not… and if not…
You still are. You still are Good & You still are God.
And we will be the people who will still…
The people who will still rest in it & sing it into the dark:
‘and if not — He is still Good. He is still God… so we can still & be & be at rest.’” #HonestPrayers” (Ann Voskamp).

Even if today didn’t go as planned. Or this week. Or this month. Or even this year (cue the Friends theme song).

God is still good.

His plans for you are still good.

His timing is still perfect and right on time.

You can trust.

You can rest.

And you can still sing into that darkness.

Worshipping Through Weeping

“Weeping may last through the night,
    but joy comes with the morning” (Psalm 30:5, NLT).

Today as a deacon, I attended the celebration of life service for one of our members who tragically lost his life at age 42. He had been married only 16 months when his life was unexpectedly cut short.

The funeral was beautiful and God-honoring. My favorite part of the entire service was when the worship leader sang the first song, the widow of the deceased stood up alone and raised her hands in worship, grieving and praising at the same time.

That’s an image I will carry with me as long as I live, I think. She had her world utterly wrecked like a rug pulled out from underneath her and still was able to declare like Job, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21, ESV).

There is so much evil in the world and so much that makes no sense. If this life is all there is, then there is no hope, no future, and no reason to keep going. But if we have the promise of God for something better coming (and we do), then we know that this is what the Apostle Paul calls a light and momentary affliction compared to the joy that’s coming.

Not that grief is nothing. Not that the pain isn’t real. But the coming joy will overwhelm us and seem so much greater than any sorrow that went before, like a woman holding her newborn baby after the agony of giving birth only is thinking of new life and not pain.

My brain has no compartment for comprehending the level of suffering this woman is currently undergoing and how radically different her life will be from now on. There will always be a void where her husband should be and a dull ache that never completely goes away, but there will always be a Father’s love that grows deeper and sweeter with the passing of time.

“Yea, though walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” The psalm does not pretend that evil and death do not exist. Terrible things happen, and they happen to good people as well as to bad people. Even the paths of righteousness lead through the valley of the shadow. Death lies ahead for all of us, saints and sinners alike, and for all the ones we love. The psalmist doesn’t try to explain evil. He doesn’t try to minimize evil. He simply says he will not fear evil. For all the power that evil has, it doesn’t have the power to make him afraid” Frederick Buechner, The Clown in the Belfry).

Dog Sitting on the 4th of July

It seems to be a tradition for me lately that I’m dog sitting on Independence Day. Not that I mind. I’d rather be hanging out with two sweet old pups than waiting on fireworks with the masses in the sweaty hot summer air.

I’m thankful for each opportunity that I get to take care of these two. There used to be three, but one crossed the rainbow bridge a few years ago. But I don’t want to take for granted that I’ll always be able to go back to Bellevue and take care of these critters.

Tonight, I hopefully can be a calming presence in the midst of all the fireworks going off up and down the street. I don’t think the pups mind much. So far, they’ve napped through all the good parts. Or at least the really loud parts.

I actually did get to see some very decent fireworks a couple of weeks ago at my church’s VBS Finale Night. Maybe they’re not up to downtown Nashville standards, but I’ll take slightly less spectacular fireworks over waiting the rest of my natural born life to get out of downtown Nashville at 1 am afterward.

Ultimately, today isn’t really about food or fireworks. It’s about freedom. It’s about men and women who shed their blood and laid down their lives so that we could have independence and the liberty to live and dress and speak and think as we want. Ideally, freedom means that we can be our best selves the way God created us to be.

Of course, we celebrate the ultimate sacrifice on Easter Sunday, remembering the cross and the empty tomb. But it’s helpful to remember Jesus laying down His life for those He loved on this day as well. All true freedom traces itself back to that Friday afternoon and that Sunday morning eventually.

I can be thankful for that sitting in a room with two very sleepy dogs away from the madding crowds waiting to see the pyrotechnics begin. I call that a win.

Never the Same

“The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions” (Ralph Waldo Emerson).

You can say the same for the heart. There are certain experiences in life that stretch your heart, like marriage, having a child, death, or a loved one moving away. Once your heart is stretched, it can never go back to what it used to be.

I can honestly say that I have known people in my life that have left imprints in my mind and in my heart. Some are no longer living. Some have moved on to different places or different phases of their lives. I may never see these people again this side of heaven, but I know that I am different and better because of them.

You never know sometimes when it’s the last time you’ll ever see someone. You think there will be more time, more experiences like this one. Sometimes, you get closure and a chance to process the grief of a goodbye, even if it’s not the grieving of death. Other times, you don’t.

One option is to be bitter and to focus on what was that will never be again. Or you could be thankful for what was because it made you who you are now. God never promised that every single person in your life would be there indefinitely. Some are only meant for a season. Some are to teach you a lesson. Some are like angels used by God to minister to you in a particularly difficult passage.

The best way to pay it forward is to be that kind of person to someone else. Just as someone was once God with skin on to you, so you can do your best to be that to someone else. You can’t be Jesus, but you can be the physical manifestation of God ministering to that person as His hands and feet, His voice.

Some of you might be reading these words right now. To you I say, “Thank you. I am more like Jesus because of you.”

Your Value

I love stories like this one. The man basically paid a penny for something that ended up being practically priceless. The reason the card is so valuable is because it’s extremely rare, especially in near mint condition. Also, the fact that I collected baseball cards back in the day makes it mean more to me.

I’ve always dreamed of something like that. I’d love to walk into a thrift store and find a rare record or piece of artwork. I did find an autographed first edition copy of Gregg Allman’s autobiography, though I very much doubt it’s worth anything close to $25 million. Still, it makes for a cool story to tell.

I’m reminded of what my pastor said a long time ago. He said that when you doubt your worth, remember who you are and Whose you are. Remember who made you. If God could flip you upside down and somehow show you His signature on you, then you would know how valuable you are. Not worthless but priceless.

Not only do you have value from God’s creation of you, but also because Jesus paid the highest possible price to redeem you. It wasn’t from anything the world values. It wasn’t your good looks or your fat bank account or your skinny body. It wasn’t because of what a wonderful human being you are. In fact, the Bible says that while we were yet sinners and enemies of God, Christ died for us. Not from any intrinsic value in and of ourselves but from the value God placed on us of bearing the image of God. Basically, it was God’s good pleasure to love us and to die for us to redeem us.

So remember your value on those days when you feel less than. It’s not your job title or your bank account or the letters after your name. It’s what God says about you and what He did for you on the cross. That’s your worth.

A Puritan Prayer

This is most likely a repeat, but it’s worth reading again. It’s from The Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan prayers that is one of the best books I have ever read outside of the Bible:

“O God of Grace,
Thou hast imputed my sin to my substitute,
and hast imputed his righteousness to my soul,
clothing me with bridegroom’s robe,
decking me with jewels of holiness.
But in my Christian walk I am still in rags;
my best prayers are stained with sin;
my penitential tears are so much impurity;
my confessions of wrong are so many aggravations of sin;
my receiving the Spirit is tinctured with selfishness.
I need to repent of my repentance;
I need my tears to be washed;
I have no robe to bring to cover my sins,
no loom to weave my own righteousness;
I am always standing clothed in filthy garments,
and by grace am always receiving change of raiment,
for thou dost always justify the ungodly;
I am always going into the far country,
and always returning home as a prodigal,
always saying, Father, forgive me,
and thou art always bringing forth the best robe.
Every morning let me wear it,
every evening return in it,
go out to the day’s work in it,
be married in it,
be wound in death in it,
stand before the great white throne in it,
enter heaven in it shining as the sun.
Grant me never to lose sight of
the exceeding sinfulness of sin,
the exceeding righteousness of salvation,
the exceeding glory of Christ,
the exceeding beauty of holiness,
the exceeding wonder of grace” (The Valley of Vision – A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions, Edited by Arthur Bennett).