#GodRemembers

"Mom, we forgot to do the Advent calendar."

You'd think her accusation wouldn't catch me off guard any more. I mean, we forget a lot of things. Practically every day.

And yet, those two words "we forgot" prickled something inside me.

Of course I answered rationally, "No, Honey. We didn't forget. We didn't have time yesterday, remember? We had church all night." With that the matter was settled. Right. We didn't have time. It's not that we forgot. It's just that in the 30 minutes we had between school and church we chose to eat snacks and watch a show on PBS. 

Why does the word "forget" sting me so? This morning's observation didn't wound me nearly as much as usual. Such as when I perform my weekly grocery shopping and the kids keenly observe that, "Mom, you forgot the bananas."

You forgot the quarters for Popcorn Friday.
You forgot to wash my shirt.
You forgot to pack my shoes.
You forgot to return the library books.
You forgot to pick up stamps.
You forgot to make the appointment.

You forgot... you forgot... you forgot.

A simple remark becomes a glaring accusation.

#momfail

And we can debate whether I should make more detailed lists, become more organized, or make my kids responsible for all the minutia in their own lives, but the truth is that when I take ownership of a task and fail to meet that responsibility, then I become immediately and poignantly aware of my own shortcomings.

What better time to face my own failing humanity than a season when we focus so pointedly on God's invading divinity?

Because as I continue to spew my tired, irrational rants that "Of COURSE I forgot! I'm busy remembering things for everyone around me," I look at the unsatisfying parts of my life and make my own accusation. God, you forgot. I simultaneously celebrate God and criticize Him.

Blinding tinsel and blaring Christmas ballads are only the tip of the marketing iceberg that breeds discontent in December.Constantly there is the pedaling of the lie that what you have is not enough. That who you are is not enough. And when enough is not enough, you admit that God is not enough. With every complaint we point the finger at God and remind Him, "God, you forgot."

Which is why we need to celebrate the season all the more. Sing God's greatness all the louder.

Because at the heart of the Christmas
message is this, "God has not forgotten you."

The evidence is there, wrapped in skin. For those who waited long for a Savior, who looked to God, just as we have, and asked Him desperately, "God, have you forgotten me, "a baby's cry proclaims, resounding, "Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son from her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you." (Isaiah 49:15)

I will tell you a phrase that I hear far less often, yet when I hear it my heart aches with the pain of full love: Mom, you remembered...

That is gratitude at its simplest. Acknowledging that the caregiver remembered, was faithful.

Those who celebrate Christmas fully are the one who realize gratitude is the manger that cradles the God who remembers. Gratitude is the song of the angels, the urgency of the shepherds, the gifts of the wise men.

Gratitude utters to the broken, "Look at God. See how He remembers us."

Gratitude sees into the family discord and reminds us that Christ was born into discord, and in the darkness of it all God did not forget us, but sent His one and only Light because He loves us.

Gratitude heeds the voice that invites, "Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!" because the Holy One of Israel has not forgotten His covenant with us.

Gratitude is the cure of spiritual amnesia along with all its discontented side effects. It is the song, simple and constant, that sings, "God, you remembered".

Maybe you need to hear the song, remember deeply that God has not forgotten you. Maybe the grinches, bah-humbugs, and hopeless cases around you need to hear it. Chances are it needs to be heard by all of the above.

So as we await our coming King, our God who remembers, let's sing the song together in the hearing of our neighbors. We celebrate a God who has not forgotten us. A God who remembers us always. The only God who can fully satisfy. And for that we are eternally grateful.

The Only Word of Mouth That Really Matters Anyway

Not even sure where to begin with this. So I type and you read and I'm sure I'll get to the point eventually. ;) Actually, the fact that this blog is the flavor of procrastination you choose for these few precious minutes is a blessing to me. You are a busy person. As am I. So when we choose to spend this time together I am thankful.

It's not that I haven't felt like writing. It's just that we are in the "busy season" here as a pastor's family. I contemplated running through the basic list of all the obligations and responsibilities we have, but honestly it was making me a bit nauseus. Best not to think of it.

The Christmas season and end of the year, has a tendency toward the analytical. I can't tell you how many product reviews I have read on amazon and other websites. I've spent even more time reading recipes and comments on food blogs as my family steers their food consumption to a more whole and healthy diet. I've read warning labels on medicine, testimonials on home remedies, book reviews, Pinterest boards, tutorials...

Because in the end I want to know that if I put forth the time, money, effort, that in the end it will be worth it.

Because everything costs something, and I really don't want to waste anything.

So I filter searches, and follow stars. The ones attached to the general opinions of the masses.

And in all the assessment, I assess myself: How many stars would I give myself for the condition of my home? My care of the sick children? My songs in worship? My coaching of the team? My disposition? My generosity? My patience? My cooking? My wife-ing? My mom-ing?

I follow the stars. And they lead me in circles.

Then I open my impulse buy, and reading this stops the spinning and it makes all the difference. 

It reminds me that God's choice to come save, graft-in, this tired, weary soul is the only review that matters. The stars, the ratings I attach to myself- the ones I perceive come from others- those wither and fade.

God didn't seek four-star all-inclusive accomodations to house his flesh-born Son. We marvel that He would choose such humble surroundings, and yet forget that what makes a place spectacular is not the decor and finery, but the One who made it, dwells within it, chooses it.

Like our lives. Surely God could find a more worthy heart than mine in which to dwell. One not so tainted and jaded by sin. A person who can keep it together at least.

But it is the One who made us that matters. It is the One who dwells within us and chooses us as His own that transforms our lives into a beautiful story of His love, power, mercy, grace, forgiveness, and faithfulness. You are amazing, a miracle, because God has made you His own. The shortcomings we possess and can't ignore, they aren't a monument to our failures, they are a living testimony to the greatness of our God.

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, 

that we should be called children of God; and so we are." 1 John 3:1a

There is only one star we need follow, and it is the one the directs us to Savior. Because the time, riches of heaven, and effort God put forth in His Son Jesus were all worth it to save us. We are worth it and He is worthy.

He says so.

"In the same way we also, when we were children, were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world.  But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God." Galatians 4:3-7

And that is really the only word of mouth that matters anyway.

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Would it not just be so amazing if I was able to write again before the end of the year? Oh, friends! I'm going to try. I really and truly am. I drive and live and read and think, "I need to write about this!" Then life passes, and I go to bed wondering what I did that day. It wasn't writing. So scout's- honor I will do my best to get to writing because I have so much to share and I really do enjoy our time together. Merry Christmas

He Is Faithful

Last week, I was diagnosed with two not-so-rare disorders. On the same day.

The first: Misophonia- literally "hatred of sound", is a neurological disorder in which negative experiences (anger, flight, hatred, disgust) are triggered by specific sounds. A dear friend listened to me complain about virtually every sound my family makes while eating. Dr. Phil did a segment on it, which she happened to watch that night, so she led me to my self-diagnosis. It's mild, don't worry.

The second: Compassion Fatigue. Later that morning, I told the Lord what I needed and He delivered Amy right to me- from 3 1/2 hours away! She suggested I had compassion fatigue. Basically, I was burned out. I'm no Mother Theresa, but I was just tired and wanting to hole myself up away from the world. Pity-party of one please.

I prayed. I read. I got through those hard days. I went to worship on Sunday and Bible study on Monday and things were looking up- WAY up. And not because I really did anything- God was reminding me that I didn't need to do anything except spend time with Him. My Martha was overcoming my Mary.

Then this morning hit, and the tasks of the upcoming garage sale started to tighten my chest. I was short, snippy. My house was too messy, my kids too loud, and my temper too wild. A quote from yesterday's cursory sweep of The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis, came back into my memory- "It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds; in reality our best work is done by keeping things out." It was a smack of reality- my mind was filled with the to-do's and crowding out what rightfully belonged there.

Hadn't we just talked about this in Bible study? Quieting the inside chatter, thinking on those things which are true, Word in-Word out? Do not be anxious about anything...

My mind swept the Bible in my memory. What was that faithful verse I saw on the desktop? I ran to the computer and there it was on that pale yellow sticky-note. The words that brought me His Peace:

The one who calls you is faithful. He will do it. 

1 Thessalonians 5:24

Throughout the week He fulfilled this verse over and over in my life, more times than I know. He kept me like He said He would. When my world was out of whack, He brought me His peace, His Spirit. He strengthened me.

He was faithful. He still is. He always will be.

I pray for you, dear Friends. I really do. I thank God for you. Please pray for me- that this verse reminds the both of us of just how faithful He is. Pray for our church sale, that if it is His will all goes well, we raise the funds needed for our men to travel to Kenya. Pray that those who come are blessed by the items, food, and people, but most of all that they witness the love of Christ in every breath breathed within those walls. Our God is so faithful.

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Linking late with the lovely Simply Beth!