Secrets

I am a children's pastor and one of my favorite times of Sunday mornings is greeting the kids as they check in.  Last Sunday, one of my favorite three year olds runs up to me with her usual smile and hug.  However, this time, she greeted me with a confession.  She told me that she had a secret that only I could know.  TIP: When a three-year-old says they want to tell you a secret, you better listen.

I leaned in, she cupped her little hand over her mouth and whispered, "I love cupcakes and ice cream."

Best. Secret. Ever.

Besides the overwhelming adorability factor, I tried to remember when my "secrets" were that innocent. It seems the older we get, the stuff we keep inside...the stuff we're embarrassed about...the stuff we're ashamed of...the uglier bits of our past gets more and more...well, whatever it is, it's certainly a far cry from cupcakes and ice cream.

Here's all I want to challenge you on today: don't let the "secrets" of your past define who you'll be today and who you're aiming to be tomorrow. If you have stuff to make right...make it right. Forgive. Extend grace. Especially to yourself.

The consequences you've faced as a result of your mistakes won't EVER mean you don't have worth to the world around you (and don't EVER let anyone tell you any different.)

If you're having a hard time digesting that idea, maybe try some cupcakes and ice cream...I know a three-year-old who swears by them.

(Oh...one more thing...the same grace and clean slate you get also applies to everyone else!)

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“The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you.” // Frederick Buechner

Can we go back to Narnia?

Tonight, I woke up thinking about Narnia along with the wardrobe, the lion, and the witch.  Oh, how I love C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia.  But two ideas specifically...maybe three, actually stuck with me in the wee hours.

The first, was that Narnia was described by C.S. Lewis as a place where it was, "always winter, never Christmas."  There's something profound in those four words....incredibly profound.

The second is that moment when the character, Mr. Beaver is attempting to explain the essence of Aslan, the lion and ultimate ruler of Narnia.  During the discussion, he quips, "Safe?  Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe.  But he's good.  He's the king, I tell you."  BRILLIANT.

The third comes during Aslan's negotiation with the White Witch for Edmund's life.  She sneers at him, "All shall be done, but it may be harder than you think."    Not long after, Aslan gives his life in exchange for Edmund.

Ah, Narnia, thanks for meeting me where I am today.

I don't know where you are at, but as for me, fighting for Christmas over winter, living in the reality that our lives and calling won't ever be safe, and that in the end, what we must do and who we must be will be harder than we think is mind-alteringly (is that a word?) powerful.

Anyone else need these lines today?  I know I did.

God is with us

Oh my glasses, it is almost December 1st.  Where has this year gone?  My life seems to be on this perpetual fast forward motion but somehow the holidays always go in slow motion for me.  I am not sure if it is the joy of the season or the sorrow of being a single mom that slows time for me.  Maybe it is a compilation of both.  I value family time much more during this season than any other time, yet I always feel more alone.  It is a weird oxymoron feeling.  

Yesterday I started pulling out all of our Christmas decorations.  I love decorating for Christmas.  I always find joy and peace in the twinkling lights, snowmen, and decor that bring upon fond memories of Christmas' past .  

In setting up the nativity scene, the ivory porcelain figures seemed too fragile and pristine to survive life in the real world.  How do some people get through the holidays?  How did Mary get through that first Christmas?  Life hadn't turned out the way she expected, either.  Over the previous nine months, has she ever thought, I just can't do this!  It's not supposed to be this way...Granted, the visitation of an angel has assured her than her undesirable circumstances were God-ordained and a sign of His favor, but even so, she had not been given a choice in the matter.  Her only choice was in her response.  What was it that angel said to her?  "The Lord is with you...do not be afraid" (Luke 1:28,30).  His announcement echoed Isaiah's prophecy:  "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel"  (Isaiah 7:14).  Immanuel means "God with us." Immanuel; you are not alone.  How tightly did Mary hold that promise?

Two thousand years ago, Jesus did not come to us as a fragile porcelain figure.  He entered into the messiness of life in a dirty stable as one who was vulnerable and needy, who felt pain, who cried.  He grew as one who would become "despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering" (Isaiah 53:3).  He lived as one who would be misunderstood, and He experienced loss, betrayal, abandonment and suffering beyond the scope of human imagination.  Facing the cross, He ultimately said under great duress, "Yet not my will, but yours be done" (Luke 22:42).  Love entered into and chose brokenness.  "This is my body given for you" (Luke 22:19).  That Jesus still chooses to share in my brokenness.  In my own limited measure of suffering, He wraps me in His blanket of compassion, whispers "fear not" and invites me to taste of His grace.  

This morning, I noticed the nativity scene has been rearranged, disregarding my efforts to display an artistically balanced panorama.  Now the figurines were all clumped in the middle, crowding the manger.  "Who messed with the nativity scene?"  I asked inquisitively.  

My nine-year-old proudly and matter-of-factly owned the deed. "I did! They were too far away from baby Jesus.  They needed to be closer so they could see him!"  He got what I had missed.

I have decided to keep his rearrangement; it is a reminder for my to position myself to see Jesus in the center of Christmas and in the center of our lives.  Everything in our lives may be rearranged and in flux, except the main thing:  Immanuel, God with us.  We were not alone.  God condescended to meet us in the broken places of our lives.  

God drew near to us in Jesus so that we could draw near to Him through Jesus.  He was rejected so that we could be accepted; broken so that we could be made whole; suffered death on the cross so that we could receive the gift of eternal life.  

A Door

“MOM!!!, We’ve got a visitor that wants a new home,“  declared my oldest.

At first I thought “oh no, no more critters in this house.”  But low and behold, a small bird had found it’s way into my chimney.   

Naturally, I immediately channeled Dick van Dyke in Mary Poppins, grabbed my gear (i.e., a sheet and trash bag), and broke out in song “Chim Chim Cher-ee.”  Seemed fitting at the time.

We crouched on the hearth, lifted the flue, assessed the situation, and devised a plan. I’d hold the flue open, my oldest would grab the bird, then we’d gently release it back outside where we were confident it preferred to live the rest of its days instead of a dark chimney covered in soot. (Oh, and we decided he’d wear plastic grocery bags as gloves since we’re so handy that we don’t own a pair of gloves.)

We began.

It took a few minutes to get the bird to stop fluttering away from the opening, but finally, with a brief, frantic flapping of its wings, out it plopped – right onto the floor at our feet. It was a young dove.

Poor thing looked absolutely stunned. It didn’t move, but its eyes were darting around the room as I’m sure it wondered, “How in the world did that dark place land me here?!”

But he didn’t have to adjust long. We released him back outside and that was that.

Later, for some reason, the bird incident got me thinking about a common phrase in Christianity that has confused me for a very long time. And it has lots of variations…see if you recognize this:

“God opened the door…”

“God closed the door…”

“When God closes a door…”

“I’m asking God to either close or open a door so I know what to do…”

(Or my favorite) “When God closes a door he always opens a ____________.” (The possibilities are endless.)

I must confess I’ve used these kinds of phrases many, many times. But I’m not sure why. For some reason we as Christians always nod in agreement and understanding when someone says these things, but to be quite honest, I have no idea what it actually means.

It’s not in our Scriptures. No one in the historical church is ever recorded using it. In fact, I imagine it’s only become common in the last fifty years or so (like MOST American Christian traditions.)

Yet, it’s used so often, one would think it was a mantra used by Christ himself.

But he didn’t.

In fact, the only thing Jesus said about doors was that HE was the door (John 10:6-10)…to rest…to healing…to life.

As I look back on my own life history (that’s actually quite short), it seems if I have any experience with God opening or closing doors, it’s been more like the bird I helped rescue than anything else. I’ll be flying along in life, doing just fine, then all of a sudden…

Darkness.

Soot.

Fear.

Stuck.

Eventually light appears again, I plop into a place I’ve never been before, and I wonder, “How in the world did that dark place land me here?!”

Now, it would be easy to immediately turn that event into the metaphor, “When God closes a door, he opens a flue,” but there’s no need.

God is not our holy doorman. 

God is our way maker. (Just ask Abraham, Moses, Esther, Jesus, Paul, and others…)

I once heard that “Grace is not a tightrope. It’s an open field where you run until you find the fences.” I’ve tripped a lot. I’ve fallen into many dark places, just like the dove we rescued.

But so far the only fences I’ve come across on my journey are the ones I or someone else has tried to construct.

I’ve stopped waiting for doors to open, I’ve ever stopped trying to find the fences, but I’ll never stop seeking after, and learning to follow the Way.

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“We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God… Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily towards the true harbour…” //J.R.R. Tolkien

Ask yourself

Consider this written by Thomas Merton:

“If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for.”

If you want to disrupt your own personal status quo...ask yourself these questions...then have someone else ask you...then ask them of another.

Broken in Place

Years ago when my body was spent from months of a mystery sickness and my soul was spent from failure, I moved in with family and somehow healed. It was a quote from Hemingway that help that healing along, “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places” and I had to believe that was true.

You don’t get to be twelve and not experience brokenness and you don’t get to be sixty and escape it entirely, but I don’t think the brokenness feels real until you are midway there.  I am midway there and those broken places, oh, they are so broken.

Every few weeks I hear of yet another peer who is divorcing, another friend who couldn’t stand the fear of life alone and so married in desperation, another friend who has lost a spouse or a child or a dream. The world is breaking us and we feel nothing but weakened by it.

I never understood Paul: His strength is made perfect in my weakness. Isn’t Christ strength already perfect and how could my weakness make it better?

But these days I think less about perfection in an “Everything is right” sort of way and more about it in an “Everything is resolved” sort of way. Like a cadence that falls and lands on the perfect ending note. That note is no more perfect when played by itself, but if that particular song were to end on any other note, it would feel unresolved, imperfect.

I think about strength now like that.

Being strong in the broken places only means that there is no other place for us to land but there, on that strength, on that note, in that place.

I take comfort in that because the world is breaking us and it will continue to do so. But Christ’s love (and His strength) is what holds us there, kept, sustaining, until that final cadence falls

Perfection

We wouldn’t admit it, we might even deny it, but we dream of perfection don’t we? We dream of the day when we’ll just get it all right and get ahead enough to breathe! Deep down we want to be perfect, but we never will be in this life. Matter of fact, I would even say that the desire of perfection is a distraction to what’s really important.

There is something in us that not only desires perfection, but that hates failure! The word alone frightens us! We don’t want to fail, failing is bad…so we learned in school! It’s engrained in us that our goal should be to get “A+” and “100%” Which is ok when we’re eight, but life isn’t a “Spelling Bee Friday test” that we take each day.

I have a theory/slogan, that may discourage some & others might deny, it goes…”failure is inevitable, perfection is unattainable, obedience is practicable!” (as in, what we should be in the daily practice of doing) More than that, our goal isn’t to be perfect or void of failure, our goal is humble & honoring obedience to Jesus!

What’s so hard for me to come to grips with each day, is that the desire in me to “be perfect” and “not fail” is rooted in my pride. My pride gets hurt if I fail or if someone sees my imperfections! What’s worse, the longer my ambition remains to be perfection, the longer it will distract me from my calling…obedience to Jesus!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we should forfeit the desire to be excellent (give & do our BEST)! I’m not saying we should not care, not grow, not improve or that failure should be “ok” with us! Failure is only “ok” when we learn from it and improve/grow through it. Repeated failure shows a lack of passion & effort in us and that’s not ok! What’s more, we have to learn to get our definition of failure from Scripture, not the subjective world views that may surround us!

All I’m saying is that our greatest fear shouldn’t be failure, but rather disobedience! I’m just saying that our goal isn’t perfection (rooted in our pride) but obedience to Jesus (growing through His Spirit in us)! If we aren’t careful, perfection can be an “idolic” distraction and destinational myth that diverts our attention away from the ultimate goal of our journey… following & falling more in love with Jesus!

Just what I’m learning….