From Darkness to Light

Where do you need Jesus' light to shine in your life? 

Jesus entered our world under the darkness of night. 

Luke Ch 2: 7-8 "And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night"

This season has a way of illuminating dark places we'd rather keep hidden. Maybe it's because we want so much to have the storybook homes, the perfect Advent celebrations, and drama-free, loving families? Maybe the brokenness of our world in contrast to celebrating the holidays seems too ironic for our hearts to handle? In many of us, expectations and ideals don't meet reality for one reason or another and darkness creeps out of its neatly controlled box and rears its ugly head into the forefront of our lives; shame, fear, guilt, condemnation, anxiety, worry, control, depression, anger...name your darkness of choice.  Jesus didn't come to our world in the light of a glorious, sun-soaked day.  He came in the darkness of night because He is the light. With His first breath on Earth, Immanuel, brought with him the "light of life" and there is no place too dark for His light to reach. 

The "light of the world" coming to a sinfully dark world to bring "the light of life". 

John 8:12 "Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

1 John 1:5 "This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all."

This pre-Christmas week, let's invite Jesus into our darkest places and trust Him to lovingly shine forth His light. He is the Word that is the "lamp to our feet and light to our path" (Psalm 119:105). He came to life on our earth to bring us life out of darkness and death.  Let's celebrate that promise by living out the words of Ephesians 5:8 and "walk as children of light" starting now. 

John 1:4 "In him was life, and the life was the light of men."

Jena M.

Don't Give Me Pinterest Jesus

Please, oh please, don't give me Pinterest Jesus for Christmas. He wouldn't understand why Tuesday morning, 9 a.m., I sit in front of my daughter's bedroom door and apologize for harsh words I said the night before when I saw the library strewn with legos. The lashing-out words that made her cry. The horrible come-outta-nowhere arm waving and disappointed glare I threw at my son. He had lept under his covers like a tiger was chasing him. I had become a living volcano. Pompeii had nothing on this mama.

This gray morning after it all went down, the tears stream down my face and my daughter's eyes are wide-eyed again. This is not my first apology nor will it be my last. Pinterest Jesus wouldn't understand.

He's the picture that pops up if you type "Jesus" in the search filter on Pinterest. He is the serene face of silver glitz and diamond bling on a pendant. You can buy him for a $399 bargain. I wonder what Pinterest Jesus would say if He saw me crying on the stairs. Probably something very advising, glossy, and perfect. Then He would stare blankly and stoic from under his crown of thorns, and I would get on with my life.

Tuesday afternoon, post-tears and apologies, my friend Holly calls. We talk about serious stuff like writing and rejection and how honest we should be with people---both strangers and our family. Then we talk about how to carry on, in forgiveness for ourselves and for others. She reminds me Jesus was born into animal manure. Thirty-three years later Jesus sweat blood in the garden as He flat-out begged God to take this cup of human suffering away. Holly observes, "That is no Pinterest Jesus."

Holly knows suffering and forgiveness and honesty better than anyone I know. She is caring for her dying mother. With that come moments of facing her own humanity and frailty and reliving memories of childhood abuse. She gave up retirement in Oregon with her faithful husband and postponed her dream to start her art business. She came home to care for her mother. Yes, ma'am.

This is no Pinterest Jesus we serve. The chaotic life He calls us to speak into, to lean into, to downright live well.

Hours before my lego tantrum, another friend sat at my kitchen table and called me "her people." Who am I to be called anyone's people? I wondered. I was in awe. I was grateful. All I did was listen to the stuff breaking her heart.

Pinterest Jesus would say, "Please don't say such things. You are just fine. Instagram it and tie a red bow on it." Well, I'm not buying that.

Back to the apology and the tears, the moment I show my kids I'm all jacked up. We sit in our PJs and talk about mommy's need for a real Jesus: the one who came for stinky shepherds, clueless teenage parents, and road-weary noblemen.

He takes me---unholy mess of a momma, friend, woman, scared and insecure most days. I tell them He takes their messes too. He says, "I love people, especially the falling-apart ones."

This is the same Jesus of the Bible who overturned tables in the temple (volcanos and legos, anyone?) and calms wicked storms with a Word. He is God incarnate and fully human; He orchestrates the turnings of the universe and He wraps me in His arms in the hallway on a Tuesday.

Please, oh, please don't get me or anyone else Pinterest Jesus for Christmas. Just the real messy Jesus please (and a monstrous IKEA gift card can't hurt.)

Christina H.

Christmas Crafting

Holiday greetings to all!  I hope you enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving with your family and friends this past week and are now looking forward to Christmas, which really is just around the corner!  I think the older I get, the faster time goes…not necessarily a good thing!  

At any rate, with a new baby and winter-like temperatures the past several weeks, we’ve been spending a lot (read that as TOO MUCH) time indoors lately…SO…I decided we needed to spice things up with some Christmas crafting.  Yes, that does mean I started Christmas crafts before Thanksgiving.  Shame.on.me. Even though our current living situation is one in which we don’t have space for many decorations, a Christmas tree was a must.  I found a nice, little, pre-lit one on sale at Michael’s a few weeks ago, which is now sitting proudly atop our ottoman in the corner of our living room.  I thought going “DIY” this year for decorating our tree would be fun too so I set about the task of planning and organizing Christmas tree crafts for our 3.5 and almost 2 year old.  Here are a few I have in mind (I’m including a very brief ‘how to’ description but if you are a visual learner like me, you’ll need to google them anyway):

*beaded candy cane ornament (alternate red and white pony beads on a pipe cleaner)

*toilet roll reindeer (cut a toilet roll in half, stick on some wiggly eyes, a pom pom nose, and pipe cleaner antlers.  If you’re feeling particularly ambitious, paint the toilet roll first or cover it with felt, fabric, etc)

*popsicle stick Christmas tree (glue green sticks into a triangle then decorate with sequins, pom poms and buttons)

*Styrofoam snowman ornament (these are too cute not to mention again so check out my December post from last year’s blog to see instructions)

*Cinnamon dough ornaments (great for giving as gifts too)

*pipe cleaner icicles (thread various sizes and colors of beads onto a sparkly pipe cleaner then wind around a pencil to create a curly effect)

*pine cone reindeer (turn so small end points down, glue on wiggly eyes, pom pom nose, felt ears, and sticks for the antlers)

Whatever this season brings for you, make sure to take some time to remember what the celebration is truly for.  Happy Christmas to you and yours!

Julie C.

More, Please

I brushed past the tall mirror in my bedroom like I have a million times before. This mirror across from my closet, the one that receives the last-second-does-my-outfit-match question every morning before I walk out the door. As I walked past this time, my eye caught a glimpse of the card posted there and I hesitated. Eleven months this card inscribed with scripture has been hanging in the corner of my mirror, placed there to remind me to pray and reflect and claim the promises of God each day. “Immeasurably more.” Now I remember. Immeasurably more.

Just before flipping the calendar to 2014, Ephesians 3:16-21 kept crossing my path. I claimed it as my “life verse” for the year. 2014 was dubbed my “year of immeasurably more.” It seems to me now like a spiritualized version of a New Year’s resolution - all full of hope for a few weeks, even months. Then, the next thing I know, it’s December! Where did the time go?

“Where is the ‘immeasurably more,’ God?” I asked. My life looks about like it did a year ago. No major changes, nothing noteworthy in my opinion. I’m not sure exactly what I expected when I penned those verses on Italian stationary and scotch-taped it to my mirror. I knew it wasn’t a magic spell. I knew the things I’ve been hoping and dreaming for probably wouldn’t appear out of nowhere. But I guess I thought I’d see something different.

I remember years ago (and I’m sure it happened more than once), ripping open presents on Christmas Eve (our family’s tradition when I was growing up). I was giddy with excitement---paper flying, ribbons and bows piling up to be saved and used again next year. Then somewhere I reached a point when I realized the number of presents left with my name on them did not equal the rest of the things on my Christmas list. The tempo of my present opening slowed. I forced a smile and a thank you.  

As I think back on those moments, I just want to shake myself. “Girl! Seriously?! You got all these amazing gifts and this beautiful family who loves you! You’re sad because you didn’t get one or two silly things on a Christmas list?”

“Immeasurably more.” I sensed Jesus whispering to my deflated spirit,

I am your immeasurably more.

Jesus.

He is the “more.”

No matter what I think I deserve or earned for my 2014, when I stop and soak in the full-weight truth that Jesus gave Himself for me and walks with me every moment and has a plan and purpose for my life --- talk about immeasurably more!  I began reading Ann Voskamp’s beautiful Advent devotional the other day (The Greatest Gift), and God used even the very first entry to send this message home to my heart. “The mattering part is never what isn’t,” she says. “In Christ there is always more.” What a beautiful and much-needed truth for our weary hearts.

I don’t know about you, but during the busy holiday season, I tend to rush through my days just trying to keep my head on straight and often miss the beauty that is Jesus. So I have resolved to make space for Him in my December, to remember Who He is and how He loves. I don’t want to miss the real “immeasurably more” like my childhood self throwing a pity party over an absent Christmas list item. I am looking forward to savoring the beauty of Advent - the waiting month. The season of Hope. Hoping for blessing from God is a beautiful thing. He wants us to hope and dream and ask. But let’s not miss the real “immeasurably more.” Let’s fix our eyes square on His this Christmas season and worship Him wholeheartedly.

~Meredith M.

Your Story Riddled With Grace

If God sent a prophet to you, what would the message be?  A plea for repentance? A reminder that you are loved beyond comprehension? A message of forgiveness and mercy? A command to surrender your life to God? If you have an inkling as to what that message may contain, I challenge you to write it down. What do you notice about it? Why do you think God would desire this change or realization in you (what specifically does God's Word say about it)? Then, take prayer-covered steps to walk out in faith with God lovingly guiding each step.

This week we're learning about Elijah, a prophet in the Old Testament. His life story reads like a science fiction novel and he's the prophet we see most mentioned in the New Testament (29 times). Over and over again we see Elijah stepping out in God's authority and power to mercifully turn the Israelites away from their sins and toward God. The big picture theme of Elijah's life through miracles, suffering, pain, love, and redemption, however, is grace; God's unmerited favor. Guess what? It's the big picture theme in our life stories as well. So, back to the question at hand: if God sent a prophet to you, what would the message be? You can count on one thing...it begins and ends with grace.

Jena M.

God of the Big and the Little

by Stephanie Morrill

My Saturday had already been going poorly of when my phone rang. It was our four-year-old son's neurologist. She had reviewed some videos we had taken of Connor's recent seizures, and she was fairly sure that the 20-30 seizures we saw daily were a different type than what he was already being medicated for. To be sure, however, she would need to capture them on an EEG. "Would you be able to come this Monday for a 24 hour stay?" she asked.

I held it together through the call, jotting down notes of what our stay would be like, even though I already knew. Because we had done this same thing in January. We were supposed to be done with this by now, I thought. I thought we were done.

Connor enjoying a visit from his sister, McKenna, as he undergoes an extended EEG back in January

Later I would feel thankful that Connor's neurologist is the type who will pick up the phone and call. That she requested the videos in the first place. That this is epilepsy and not something terminal. But right then I didn't feel at all grateful. I felt scared, overwhelmed, and frustrated.

While tough or frustrating times often draw me closer to God, I wasn't thinking about spiritual things as I hung up the phone. Instead, I was thinking that my week had been hijacked. That I had a long to-do list, and I had better power through it. First on the list was a run over to Target to pick up a few random things we needed.

What a funny place to bump into God.

I arrived about 4:45, and I roamed the aisles because I needed items from all over the store. As I hunted for 9 volt batteries, the thought came out of nowhere: It's Saturday. The pharmacy closes at 5 on Saturday.

And it was 4:57.

I was on the other side of the store, and I managed to arrive just as the pharmacist was closing things down. She gave me my prescription with a smile and a, "Just in time!" The door rolled shut behind me as I walked away, marveling at God's attention to detail.

There was no reason why, as I debated Duracel or Energizer, it would have occurred to me "just in time" that I needed to get to the pharmacy counter before they closed. It felt so clear that God had shown up, had spared me a frustration.

You know every little thing, I thought as I finished up my shopping. But it didn't feel scary, it was comforting.

Ten or so minutes later I walked out of Target. The sky was ablaze with a sunset that sucked my breath away. Despite the chill in the air, the list waiting for me at home, I stood there and marveled. The moment felt reverent.

The camera never does His art justice, but I snapped a picture as a reminder of the lesson.

He cared about me getting to the pharmacy before they closed, but He's also the God who paints sunsets. He is both personal and so big He's beyond comprehension. Sometimes I make the mistake of limiting myself to asking God only for little things that might make my day-to-day life easier, and I forget about the majesty of Him.

Have a Radical Thanksgiving

"A personal revolution of gratitude turns everything around." 

Ann Voskamp at www.aholyexperience.com 

I love the idea of grace hijacking the darkness, that we can choose to bring thanksgiving to the unlikely, ugly, hurt places and be uplifted, comforted, and healed by this radical thanksgiving.  Read more HERE and scroll down for printable leaves for your Thanks Giving Tree and different ways to incorporate it into the rest of the month.

Have a blessed week with family, friends, and/or neighbors. I pray you find ways to practice radical thanksgiving!

Katrina K.

Too Good Not To Share...

Such wise perspective in these words, ladies.  We are genuinely wanted, welcome, and loved in our community and in God's kingdom!  I pray we are women loving with action, words, and thoughts...

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2014/11/how-to-get-over-cliques-get-real-community/


Jena

When You Need to Be Noticed and Your Faith is Failing

God shapes our faith like a U2 song, ordinarily and epically: The sea throws rocks together/But time leaves us polished stones. Like the table all strewn with the stuff that should have been put away Again. Like when you discipline your kid when you are pretty sure he's lying but you can't tell. Out of your mouth you hear, "Remember God knows if you are lying. Think about that!" Like the lights left on Again.

“He said, ‘Good servant! Great work! Because you’ve been trustworthy in this small job, I’m making you governor of ten towns.’ (‭Luke‬ ‭19‬:‭17‬ MSG)

You, the forgotten and neglected, fighting back the anxiety. You feel like you should be helping people who want to be helped, like serving at a Bible study, or having tea with a neighbor. Here you are mopping the floor furiously, exerting sweat and helpfulness only to be unnoticed again.

Thoughts swirl downward as every table scratch and dirty dish appear highlighted in neon. You sit with a magazine. The one highlighting a baby born in a trash heap. The next article, a 9-year old carrying 30 pounds of water, fatherless, dreaming dreams about a better life on meager cents. She knows more than you: what the Scripture says about her is true. God sees and knows. She knows. You should know.

You remember how the sweet little fibber brought you a picture of Jesus in the stable as you tried to escape the madness of your mind on the yoga mat.

By an act of faith, Rahab, the Jericho harlot, welcomed the spies and escaped the destruction that came on those who refused to trust God. I could go on and on, but I’ve run out of time.

There are so many more—Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, the prophets. . . .

Through acts of faith, they toppled kingdoms, made justice work, took the promises for themselves. (Hebrews‬ ‭11‬:‭31-33 MSG)

Today is just one day out of a lifetime of superbly ordinary moments, a chance to see beyond the wanting to be seen. Faith grows in the giving up on ourselves and falling into God's arms.

But you are...God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. (‭1 Peter‬ ‭2‬:‭9‬ NIV)

Faith means saying out loud, "I believe in this God whom I cannot see. I remember what he has done for me." Speak it out! Say it to your friends via text, email, in person, over and over and over. Tattoo it on your body with Sharpie.

Then give yourself a break and eat a Snickers. Or 1/2 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips. Whatever's on hand.

Open His Word and remember the people who came before you...

...stories of vagrants wandering the earth in animal skins, homeless, friendless, powerless—the world didn’t deserve them!—making their way as best they could on the cruel edges of the world. (‭Hebrews‬ ‭11‬:‭31:38‬ MSG)

The blessing of God with you when the world is forgetting. Those rock edges, tossed about and ever small, ever sharp, He will smooth until you shine in the sun.

It is precisely in the small tasks and hard, self-centered moments we can learn to see His provision, His grace. Oh, God, grow my faith as I strive to be faithful with the tasks you give me, the works you have set before me, unnoticed by the world, but noticed by You.

Christina H.

Your Story in Psalms

Writing your own psalm:

This week we are looking at the life of King David.  David's life is riddled with highs and lows...life and death, sorry and joy, sin and praise, but in both the good times and bad we get a picture of who David was before God.  We see how his relationship to God was personal, intimate, and at times challenging and painful.  Can anyone relate? One thing we know about David was that he was a psalmist...a writer of poetry and music.  These Hebrew poems were written for singing, praising, and praying to God, David's Heavenly Father and King.  What if you were to write your own psalm? Would it be a song of praise, of lament, of repentance and joy? We challenge you to try.  Even if you don't consider yourself a writer, just write from your heart.  Boil down your experiences, feelings, and thoughts until you get to the foundation of your beliefs and pour them out to God, your Heavenly Father and King.

Step One: Spend time in prayer contemplating what is weighing on your heart. Identify what your burden, joy or passion is that needs expressing.

Step Two: Praise God for who He is, thank him for what he has done, expressing fear or doubt. Praise for a specific blessing, remembering a special event, confession, etc.

Step Three: Make it Personal. Use “I, me and my”.

Step Four: Use Descriptive Language.  Try to say a lot without using a large number of words.   Use adjectives such as awesome, majestic, incredible...

Step Five: Try writing like the Hebrews…(ok this should be fun, right?). The psalmists used parallelism to express themselves in Psalms (do a web search to read about the types of parallelism in Psalms or see WU David Handout for more info)

Happy Writing!

Jena M. 

I Believe Your Trauma Will Die

My faith grew in a moment with a stranger new. 

I stood in line, selecting salad toppings, amongst throngs, but it felt like just we two. 

Freshly met with extended hands at a conference like few. 

To think if I had never turned and just withdrew.

I would have the missed the blessed moment of her story rare. 

Her eyes glinting, and the reddish curls in her hair. 

Strength and truth, in the air. 

She said passion sparked in my stare.

She simply spoke words she felt at the time, in a salad line. 

Peaceful wind to a bullet-ridden flag, its bearer weary of holding up against onslaught.

I have never known who I am. She said YES and YOU ARE. 

Blessed friend, what can five minutes of honesty do?

Under the questions and fears

The voices in our ears

We saw each other free as what we could be.

So we decided to say: I believe.

I believe you can surmount the scars

The lies in your head

The trauma you’ve seen

Cursed darkness and dread.

When we with words of kindness speak out, 

Connection, grace & faith scare

Down the doubt.

If you want to shake up this world.

Find someone unlovely, scared, or just caught.

Look deep in their eyes

See more than we’re taught.

See beauty turned out and upside down and in

On top of its head

Until you can’t stop the spin

You want radical love, you say that’s what’s true?

Find resurrection in death, death we can’t undo.

Find it in the dark when you can’t see the light

As you pray for them

On bruised knees, here tonight.

Your heart and mine empty right here

To what God sees.

I know He is near,

Not just in your life,

Not just in mine

But here in our dying and our living new words, when I say who you could be,

Because you can’t see,

The good you birth into this world---not on your terms, only on His.

Carrie, the girl this story’s about,

Gave me a gift of seeing God’s work I couldn’t see

It was all I could do not to shout it out.

I believe your trauma will die,

Your love and furrowed courage will rise up high.

I see you---alive and living this life full well.

Take me into the fray and fear,

Dear Jesus,

The passion tells me to.

- Christina H.

When Your Branches Are Breaking

Serving woman, loving woman,

Tree bending, swaying, season in, season out, in drought and in rain, holding tight to green. You give for seasons, years, like an ancient bristlecone pine,

Thousands of years old, still birthing seeds, expecting newness.

Were it not for shriveled soul, drying out in the desert sun.

Once you grew out full, reaching.

The autumn signals wintry rest arrival, the time for fattening up, storing up, physically, spiritually, emotionally.

Here in suburbia we are seasonal, but we have no real season to restore. Rest revives the weary in time for the coming life.

"Conscientiously 'wasting' time with God enables me to speak and act from greater strength, to forgive rather than nurse the latest bruise to my wounded ego...." -Brennan Manning, Abba's Child

Take the breath, Lord,

The one I keep spouting out, spitting itself into every conversation for affirmation, confirmation, answers.

What happens when it gets shut up?

What happens I wonder.

No more trying. Just listen.

Listen with a whole heart, not the half one.

Not the one that steps on everyone else because it can't hear itself think.

Take the Good book and a pen and yourself and shut yourself up away in a closet, a house, the great outdoors, your car.

You want to touch the Holy and feel His touch?

Retreat and lock the world out.

Even the people I want to help lift up. I want them to complete me.

I have to leave them behind. Because I must shut their voices out for a time and my own.

I want to be whole: to be available, to have an open door, to invite friends and strangers over, to do the good works my great God has prepared for my frail hands. I want to pour out love as wine into goblets for the poor in spirit. I want to enjoy squeezing my bum down the staticky slide and play with my little Spaceman and my wild Zebra girl.

I found an island once. I wandered. I prayed, then wrote. I wrote, then prayed. I tried to remember who I was. On a warm-watered beach in the North Atlantic, I realized I was empty-handed. All the expectations, all of my strivings, were dust---a centering place and moment that has brought me sanity, honesty, and home to worship and gratitude in the midst of panic attacks.

I come back to this moment in my mind. To the water, the waves, the emptiness I felt, the fullness. The being loved by a God who knows my bendings, swayings, and givings.

He asks nothing of me but to stay here, His, rooted and loved, and being and stop chasing. Stop chasing.

Serving woman, honest woman, loving, giving, pouring yourself out woman. Retreat and find rest for your weary weary soul.

Would you join me in consecrating half an hour of this week to be in absolute quiet with God? Only soft music if absolutely necessary. This is the practice of solitude, monkish and cavelike, deliberate and difficult. Be in His presence sparcely, a pen and paper to record any words He gives. No devo apps, no Bible study materials. Just God.

May He speak and restore.

- Christina H.