Something a little "different"

Every year at this time, something big stirs inside me. I think about the Christmases of my past and the traditions my family took part in. One of the things we did every year for the four weeks preceding Christmas was to celebrate Advent. We would sit down as a family and read devotionals and take turns lighting the Advent candles on the Advent wreath.

Sometimes we (the kids) were tuned in to what was being read, and sadly there were some days we desperately fought the urge to fall asleep.

Regardless of where we were mentally, "functionally," or spiritually, this tradition is something that I remember every year.

Somewhere along life's journey...Advent seems to be forgotten. Forgotten in our homes and forgotten in the church.

I was sitting at our staff Christmas party this week and had the opportunity to share a table with one of our pastors who I think the world of. This was my first church Christmas party which was kind of strange because there are so many times that I forget I'm considered "staff." It was a great evening with amazing food and fellowship.

While I was sitting with our pastor I found myself asking him this question. "What happened to Advent? Why is it not preached about anymore during the Christmas season?"

Years ago this very topic was the "straw that broke the camel's back" with me when I made the decision to find a new church home. It was when the sermons moved away from Advent and were replaced with Lord of the Rings.

As I was cleaning last night I was feeling the "nudge" to blog. I had one idea and God had another. He has been speaking to me about it all week and it finally took me dusting off the piano and moving candles around for me to hear it.

"This time is still about Advent. You don't need Sunday sermons to remind you of that."

So I did some research online today...looking for Advent Devotions and I came across this:

"The Season of Advent

Anticipation and Hope"

written by Dennis Bratcher

We live in a world in which bigger and better define our expectations for much in life. We have become so enamored by super size, super stars, and high definition that we tend to view life through a lens that so magnifies what we expect out of the world that we tend not to see potential in small things. But as the prophet Zechariah reminds us (Zech 4:10), we should not "despise the day of small things," because God does some of his best work with small beginnings and impossible situations.

It is truly a humbling experience to read back through the Old Testament and see how frail and imperfect all the "heroes" actually are. Abraham, the coward who cannot believe the promise. Jacob, the cheat who struggles with everybody. Joseph, the immature and arrogant teen. Moses, the impatient murderer who cannot wait for God. Gideon, the cowardly Baal-worshipper. Samson, the womanizing drunk. David, the power abusing adulterer. Solomon, the unwise wise man. Hezekiah, the reforming king who could not quite go far enough. And finally, a young Jewish girl from a small village in a remote corner of a great empire.

It never ceases to amaze me that God often begins with small things and inadequate people. It certainly seems that God could have chosen "bigger" things and "better" people to do his work in the world. Yet if God can use them, and reveal Himself through them in such marvelous ways, it means that he might be able to use me, inadequate and unwise, and too often lacking in faith that I am. And it means that I need to be careful that I do not in my own self-righteousness put limits on what God can do with the smallest things, the most unlikely of people, in the most hopeless of circumstances. I think that is part of the wonder of the Advent season.

I am convinced that one of the main purposes of the incarnation of Jesus was to provide hope. While most people today want to talk about the death of Jesus and the Atonement of sins, the early Church celebrated the Resurrection and the hope it embodies. It was a proclamation of a truth that rang throughout the Old Testament, that endings are not always endings but are opportunities for God to bring new beginnings. The Resurrection proclaims the truth even about humanity's greatest fear, death itself.

Both the season of Advent and the season of Lent are about hope. It is not just hope for a better day or hope for the lessening of pain and suffering, although that is certainly a significant part of it. It is more about hope that human existence has meaning and possibility beyond our present experiences, a hope that the limits of our lives are not nearly as narrow as we experience them to be. It is not that we have possibility in ourselves, but that God is a God of new things and so all things are possible (Isa 42:9, Mt 19:26, Mk 14:36).

God's people in the first century wanted him to come and change their oppressive circumstances, and were angry when those immediate circumstances did not change. But that is a short sighted view of the nature of hope. Our hope cannot be in circumstances, no matter how badly we want them or how important they are to us. The reality of human existence, with which the Book of Job struggles, is that God's people experience that physical existence in the same way that others do. Christians get sick and die, Christians are victims of violent crimes, and Christians are hurt and killed in traffic accidents, bombings, war, and in some parts of the world, famine (see The Problem of Natural Evil).

If our hope is only in our circumstances, as we define them to be good or as we want them to be to make us happy, we will always be disappointed. That is why we hope, not in circumstances, but in God. He has continually, over the span of four thousand years, revealed himself to be a God of newness, of possibility, of redemption, the recovery or transformation of possibility from endings that goes beyond what we can think or even imagine (Eph 3:2). The best example of that is the crucifixion itself, followed by the resurrection. That shadow of the cross falls even over the manger.

Yes, it all begins in the hope that God will come and come again into our world to reveal himself as a God of newness, of possibility, a God of new things. This time of year we contemplate that hope embodied, enfleshed, incarnated, in a newborn baby, the perfect example of newness, potential, and possibility. During Advent, we groan and long for that newness with the hope, the expectation, indeed the faith, that God will once again be faithful to see our circumstances, to hear our cries, to know our longings for a better world and a whole life (ex 3:7). And we hope that as he first came as an infant, so he will come again as King! (see The Second Coming)

My experience tells me that those who have suffered and still hope understand far more about God and about life than those who have not. Maybe that is what hope is all about: a way to live, not just to survive, but to live authentically amidst all the problems of life with a Faith that continues to see possibility when there is no present evidence of it, just because God is God. That is also the wonder of Advent.

I wish I could write something so astoundingly beautiful like this on my own! :) And when I read it, I knew that I needed to share...for I believe that so many of us are walking through this journey called life and lose sight of this "hope."

I'm planning on doing a few more Advent posts and hopefully this blog will encourage you all to remember this very special season as well!

Reflections

I've mentioned before that one of the greatest enjoyments of my daily commute to and from work, is having the opportunity to take part in the beauty of a sunrise and sunset. There are a few spots along the way that I have sought out and pulled over to capture this beauty digitally, as well as in my mind.

Rice fields can be a horrible nightmare for someone who has allergies. When farmers burn...I am miserable. However, when the fields are covered with water...I am blessed. For me personally, one of the most beautiful images is the way nature reflects itself in water.

This past week I have been at a standstill with what to blog about. I had intentions on posting a Thanksgiving Blessing blog but whenever I sat down at the computer there was something else that took my focus off of writing. Last night, my son's remark clinched the title, "Reflections."

I miss football, but I am so glad that Nick has his Tuesday nights free again so he can attend youth group at church. When we got in the car last night to head home, he was so energetic. Typically, I will test, I mean ask him what youth group was about. Some days he can respond in detail and some days all he can remember was playing games before worship. :)

Last night, his energy filled the car and all of a sudden, he burst out, "I am amazing!!!" Hmmm...My first thought was, do we need to have little "ego talk?" I want my son to have confidence and all, but I have no tolerance for arrogance. Before I could mumble a response, he eagerly went on...

"That's what Pastor Brent's message was about! God made me, and He created me to be amazing!!!" Ahhh...such sweet words to hear come out of your child's mouth. Pastor Brent challenged all of the kids to go home, look at themselves in the mirror and say, "I am amazing!"

Before Nick went to bed last night, he spoke that phrase in the mirror about three or four times so everyone could hear, and then said... "I'll probably forget this in a few days." ...so there it is.

And then I got to thinking, I could care less if my son forgets history lessons, math equations, or science experiments. I don't ever want him to forget the beauty of God's Creation, the fact that we were all created in His perfect image, and that we are to reflect that image onto others.

And then, I got to thinking about all of the numerous times that I forget.

All it takes is a single moment of insecurity and I wonder why.

...Why can't I be "good enough?"

The problem is, I fall into the trap of measuring myself by the world's standards and forget how irrelevant that ultimately is.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

-2 Corinthians 3:17-18 NIV

"...are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory..."

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in the mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like.

-James 1:22-24 NIV

I find it way to easy to get lost in Scripture thinking about how good it is, how beautiful it is, how right it is, and then...

...disagreements occur.

...stress ensues.

...doubt consumes.

We all need to remember we're here to reflect...

...not forget.

Another Reminder...

Tonight I am sitting around, not really knowing where I want to take this blog post. Part of me just wants to post pictures and be done with it, but a much, much bigger part of me sits here with a heavy heart and senses God nudging me to simply, "write." ...I don't even have the energy to argue with God over this tonight!

Right now I feel a lot like the people you see in videos and movies walking in slow motion while the rest of the universe is blasting past. I am taking careful notice of where my focus is, on people and circumstances, while the rest of society is busy with moving through life as though nothing else is going on around them.

I was strolling through Walmart Saturday night and it dawned on me, that this was the last weekend for the next few months that I will be able to step into this store and feel "sane."

On my drive to the store I noticed the bright colorful Christmas lights that someone has already put up around their home.

I can't believe that Thanksgiving is this week and that I have absolutely no clue how I want to tackle Christmas this year. The Holidays should be pleasantly prepared for. Stress should not play a factor in the celebrations, yet somehow it weasels its way in there.



I'm not ready for it this year...


So I'm trying to slow down just a bit and reflect on what's been going on all around and inside me.




I've been thinking a lot about the broken and the hurting. Funny how it works that way for me personally. Right about the time that I make the remark, "being single stinks" or something similar, God smacks me on the head and reminds me that my "pity me woes" are so tedious, so unimportant, and so...selfish.

...I have a roof over my head.
...I have a bank account.
...I have clothes on my back.
...I have food in my cupboards.
...I have a car to drive.
...I have a job to go to.
and
...I have a son that deserves my attention more than a companion.


My heart is heavy...and I am questioning myself as to how I can make a difference that will impact my child as well as others.

Our first step was Operation Christmas Child, which I have supported for several years now. "Together" we would choose the articles to place in the shoe boxes, one for a boy and one for a girl. I wanted to teach him the gift of giving to others. This year he opted to stay home from our shopping spree which has encouraged me even more to take another step.

Saturday morning Nick took part in his first youth group "Turkey Bowl" flag football game. During this time a youth leader had asked me what our plans were for Thanksgiving Day and invited us over for dinner. I had to pass on the invite, but then he asked if we'd be interested in tagging along with them later on in the day to take some food down to the river bottoms for a few homeless families. I didn't hesitate with a "We'd love to!!!" Aside from the occasional person we see standing on the street corners, Nick has never encountered a homeless person, not to mention a homeless family. I am so thankful that this opportunity has been given to us and look forward to sharing this experience with my 13 year old son.



This morning in church was such an unexpected blessing for so many reasons.

Upon arriving, I was chatting with someone about a particular ministry that I'd been thinking about. All of a sudden, he looked at me and eagerly asked, "What would yours be?" Huh? Um... (insert awkward pause as his face was lit up while he waited to hear what I would say...)

Huh...I didn't expect that I would be challenged with such a question. Well...I guess it would have something to do with children, because I do have compassion for them.

It seemed to satisfy his inquisitiveness and he walked away, leaving me standing in a children's nursery...feeling puzzled and almost frustrated with the fact that I haven't given it much thought.


And then we had our traditional "Sunday visit" from a friend who stops by to say hello with a big smile on his face as we all wonder what is going on underneath the exterior. Our hearts break for him as he's walking through this particular season of his life. It's refreshing to see his face Sunday mornings because it's a sign and an encouragement to those who know and love him. He's proof that even when life deals us the cards we didn't hope or ask for, our faith shouldn't be shaken...

But the greatest blessing for me came through the face of a family tragedy.

I had heard the story last Sunday, but had no idea that the story involved a family I see and interact with every Sunday morning.

A mom and dad were dropping off their son and nephew to leave in our care while they attended service. As I was checking them in, the mom mentioned that they had her brother's youngest child while her sister-in-law was dropping off the older one next door. I don't even remember what it was exactly that she said, but I will never forget the pain that I saw in her beautiful, yet broken spirit as I took this little boy out of her arms. About two weeks ago, this six month old baby boy's father took his own life. No one knows or can even begin to understand why...but it happened. And this family's world has been shattered.
I couldn't take my eyes off of him...
and I still can't wrap my mind around what they are all going through...



...Every so often as we care for little ones during a church service, God gives us a moment when we have the opportunity to have one eye on the kids and one eye/ear on the monitor. This morning's moment was heartbreaking, but so bittersweet.



There was a woman on stage with our pastor, and she was about to read a poem that she had written in memory of her son. She was the grandmother of this beautiful little boy who was playing on the floor in the room next door...


The room of toddlers grew quiet as she spoke in gratitude and brokenness, pouring her heart out to the church body, and in the end, lifting her hands in the air and giving thanks and praise to our great God.
The God who never leaves us, especially in the midst of tragedy.

What a beautiful moment...

What a challenging day for me personally.

As I sit, and way too often reflect on my life and some days, if it were up to me, feel as though I wouldn't choose to be at this point in my journey...

...I should be married.

...I want more kids.

But then I get reminders like today.

I have to be honest...when I was taking these pictures today, I was so frustrated with Nick. He couldn't stand still. I had a particular "picture" in my mind and wanted to capture it, I even jumped on him for pointing to the sky...

And now I can clearly see that it was God's final reminder to me on this very day. He graciously used my son to be the "messenger."

"Look up, Angie. Your life isn't about what you want. It's all about what I have planned for you...and it's enough."

Better than a Win

So my baby boy turned 13 years old yesterday and once again I was reminded of what an incredible boy he is (ugh...I suppose at 13 I should start referring to him as a "young man"). God has truly, truly blessed me with this child and sometimes I feel as though I'm unworthy of having the opportunity to be called his "mom."


He's smart...he's witty...he's compassionate...and he's beautiful inside and out. And trust me, when he's old enough to discover an interest in girls, there will be a thorough screening process in which they will have to get through ME to get to him. Because he'll be more than just a "catch."

I found his very first pair of cowboy boots today...and about cried.

I was a little nervous before the big game against Sutter, so I snuck outside for a bit and grabbed some shots around the house...

Boots is getting along just fine...

2:00 game time...Nor-Cal Division championship against Sutter. Here's a little "history" on why I'm not too fond of Sutter Athletics (speaking for my son's age group...Sutter High School athletics, I respect). And it's not so much the athletic department as it is the coaching staff. I have to laugh because it's as though they carry on as a teenage "click" would. They all coach together, no matter what sport, and they all try to live life vicariously through their own kids.

A few years ago I had reached my tolerance limit, and I vowed to never allow my child to play on their league ever again. He was once a player under these coaches "authority." And I know I may step on some toes when I voice my opinion (just remember, that it IS my opinion) but I have a HUGE problem with coaches NOT letting kids be kids in little league. They are going to spend the rest of their lives chained to the meaning of the word "competition." Be it as they grow up to play sports, and later as they go out in the world looking for jobs. When they are kids...let them BE kids.

And as a single mom, it is especially important to have male role models in your child's life that will help teach them the values of good sportsmanship and courtesy. NOT anger. To build the children UP...and not tear them down with words and foul language. Thus the reason to transfer leagues and take a season off of baseball. Thus my sour attitude against Sutter little league.

Anyway...

When I was in high school, I participated in three sports. Volleyball, all four years, track for two, and softball for two. In softball, we had a tradition that I'm afraid is considered banned in his day and age. Prior to the start of each game, our coach would gather us in a circle, and he would pray. I can STILL hear his prayer to this very day. Part of it was this:

"We don't pray to win. If we play well, and the Lord's willing...we will."

And he would also pray that no one on either team would get injured. It was a simple prayer, but it was a prayer nonetheless. And I respected him for taking the time to do so.

This was the view of the River Valley Junior Falcons as they took the field on Saturday:

It did this mom's heart proud...and at this particular moment, before the game had even begun...I felt that if RV didn't walk away with a football victory, there was already a victory in heaven's eyes.

The other thing that touched my heart this football season was the line-up during the National Anthem.

Sadly, I think it will be a few years before some kids realize the meaning of "American pride" but as an adult, seeing this every Saturday for the past four months has been a blessing.

River Valley was defeated by Sutter 8-6. They lost on a "safety." They played their hearts out and walked away with their heads held high. And as well they should have. What I saw this football season, was a group of kids being led by a handful of men with integrity, with values, and with heart. And I am proud of the entire River Valley organization...for doing what's most important, and doing it well.

"Letting Go"

Nick and I have two cats, Boots and Oliver. They each have their own distinct personalities. Oliver is more aggressive, as he was with us first and is a little older. Boots is definitely more passive and inquisitive.

A few weeks ago our two cats went from being indoors to outdoors. Adapting to this was easy for Oliver. He can hold his own and surely knows how to fend for himself. Boots, however, hasn't been so successful.

This is Boots:

He's a cute little thing, isn't he? Nick gave him the name because we thought he resembled the little feline from Shrek. (Without having the same personality, of course.)

After placing the two of them in their new outdoor environment, Boots disappeared for a few days. I was convinced that someone may have seen him walking around, and Boots, wanting to make friends with everyone would have been taken. He showed up, but with a limp in his walk. I picked him up, examined the back leg which was a little swollen and decided that he was ok. Maybe he got his leg caught in something and twisted it.

He stayed around for the night, disappeared for most of the day, but he came home again so I picked him up and handed him to Nick so he could love on him.

This was the moment that Nick let out a scream and extended the cat back to me with a "His LEG MOM! Look at his LEG!!!" I examined the injured leg and noticed a gash the size of a half dollar. This discovery occurred at 11 o'clock at night. So I drove to Walmart, purchased the necessities needed to keep him inside and he's been there ever since.

I grew up on a farm, and seldom was a veterinarian called out for anything. My dad had a lot of knowledge and experience in regards to giving the animals vaccinations, stitching up wounds, and concocting home remedies for injured animals. I grew up knowing all too well what it meant to "put down" an animal and those images will stay with me for the rest of my life. So my mom and I poured saline on the wound, applied some bag balm (back in the day it was cow salve), and I crushed up an aspirin and mixed it in with some food.

The wound has healed wonderfully and Boots is beginning to walk on all fours once again. So now comes the struggle I have with placing him back in the outdoors which is where he needs to be.

I tried to coax him out by propping the door open and he took a few "baby steps" however as I approached him, he became skittish and ran back into the garage for cover.

So I convinced myself to give him one more day before I would have to use force...

I have thought about this scenario quite a bit as I have been having a hard time "letting him go."

There's something about the safety and security of being under the roof in your own home...

When you are sick, you want to be home.

When you are hurting, you want to be home.

When you are tired and weary, you want to be home.
When you are frustrated and sometimes angry, you want to be home.

When you've had a bad day, you want to be home.

Home is comfort. And serenity. And...safe.

And the outside world? It can be fun, and exciting, and adventurous. But it is also associated with being the place where danger lurks and the unpredictable lies.

Speaking for myself (it IS after all, my blog and my place for opinions), the outside world sometimes frightens me. I'm not necessarily talking about being out in nature, or walking down the streets of town, but rather "exposing" my heart and my soul to those things that can hurt me emotionally. Relationships. Relationships with peers, family members, and potential "dating" relationships.

I can't count the number of times I have asked myself this question...

Can I forgive this person and open up myself up to the possibility of being hurt by them again?

So how do we "let go?"

How do we convince ourselves fully, that life is going to be hard, that life is going to hurt, and that in life there are going to be letdowns?

How do we trust the Person that has opened the door to the outside world... the One who stands before us gently watching and waiting...

the One who extends His hand and says,

"Be strong and brave. Don't be afraid of them and don't be frightened, because the Lord your God will go with you.

He will never leave you or forget you."

-Deuteronomy 31:6

"He looked around the carpentry shop. He stood for a moment in the refuge of the little room that housed so many sweet memories. He balanced the hammer in his hand. He ran his fingers across the sharp teeth of the saw. He stroked the smoothly worn wood of the sawhorse. He had come to say goodbye.

It was time for him to leave. He had heard something that made him know it was time to go. So he came one last time to smell the sawdust and lumber.

Life was peaceful here. Life was so...safe...

I wonder if he wanted to stay...I wonder because I know he had already read the last chapter. He knew that the feet that would step out of the carpentry shop would not rest until they'd been pierced and placed on a Roman cross.

...if there was any hesitation on the part of his humanity, it was overcome by the compassion of his divinity. His divinity heard the voices...

And his divinity saw the faces...From the face of Adam to the face of the infant born somewhere in the world as you read these words, he saw them all.

And you can be sure of one thing. Among the voices that found their way into that carpentry shop in Nazareth was your voice...

And not only did he hear you, he saw you. He saw your face aglow the hour you first knew him. He saw your face in shame the hour you first fell. The same face that looked back at you from this morning's mirror, looked at him. And it was enough to kill him.

He left because of you.

He laid his security down with his hammer. He hung tranquility on the peg with his nail apron. He closed the window shutters on the sunshine of his youth and locked the door on the comfort and ease of anonymity.

Since he could bear your sins more easily than he could bear the thought of your hopelessness, he chose to leave.

It wasn't easy. Leaving the carpentry shop never has been."

"God Came Near" by Max Lucado

I know that our lives are a bit different than the life of a cat.

And I know that our lives are nothing compared to the life of Christ.

But when you think of the life Christ gave up, to save ours...

...it puts "letting go" into a whole new perspective.