I wonder as I wander…really, on the wonder part

Not so much on the wander part.  It generally seems so pointless.

But I digress.  This old Christmas carol came to my attention last week when a local high school a capella  group came to sing at my school.  (Why it’s ok for them to sing clearly Christmas songs about Jesus, I’m not sure.  I am, however, glad that we got to hear them!)  

Ai yi yi- more digression.  This is what I get for writing at 12:15am.  

Anyway.  My students were sitting quietly, slightly enthralled by the music and therefore allowing me to focus on the music when I really listened to this song, maybe for the first time.  There’s a lot of gospel in this song- the sinful nature of man, the substitutionary atonement, the “promise of ages” fulfilled by Jesus’ birth, and the supremacy of Christ- to get started.

And yet…the point of the song includes and goes beyond the accurate theology. There’s something about taking the time to wonder and maybe, to wander under the sky, that brings my busy heart to worship.  Jesus the Saviour came to die for poor on’ry people like you and me.  That’s worth considering.

I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die
For poor on’ry people like you and like I;
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

When Mary birthed Jesus ’twas in a cow’s stall
With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all
But high from God’s heaven, a star’s light did fall
And the promise of ages it then did recall.

If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing
A star in the sky or a bird on the wing
Or all of God’s Angels in heaven to sing
He surely could have it, ’cause he was the King

What do you have that you haven’t received?

This question echoes in my heart today. I read it last night with the rest of the chapter in that way I really shouldn’t read the Bible– without anticipation or expectation.

Paul is in the middle of making an argument to his readers, and this verse fits nicely there. For me, however, it was like a punch in the stomach (or at least, what I imagine a punch in the stomach would be like).

For who regards you as superior? What do you have that you did not receive? And if you did receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it? (1 Corinthians 4:7 NASB)

What do you have that you did not receive? The rhetorical question became personal and the answer is clear: nothing. There is nothing in my life that I have not received…so why do I lay claim to things mentally and feel justified in my indignation when “my” time goes differently than planned?

So I pray through this verse again and again, asking that the Word Who became flesh will change me and my heart. For all I have received, may I be truly grateful…and less territorial!

The A-B-Cs of Strep Throat

When I said that I needed more time to write here, I wasn’t exactly hoping for a few days in bed, 102.7 degrees, or strep throat.

And yet, here I am with approximately 22 hours of antibiotic treatment before my contagion ends…just enough time to write.

As I laid on the couch yesterday, I considered how to use my forced down-time.  Using the computer required too much energy; calling a friend to catch up required use of my throat.  My vocal cords only rebelled on occasion, but talking meant swallowing which meant pain.  I’m a wimp.

So I laid on the couch looking for a silent, still activity…and came upon an idea I used when I would swim laps in college: A-B-C prayer.

A- adored

B- beautiful

C- Christ, etc.

I started with attributes of God and finished up with things I’m grateful for.  I don’t think I made it past C on the second one before I was again asleep under the mountain of blankets.

You know what?  God showed up.  In my mushy-brain, shivering-with-fever state, He reminded me that I am His.  That was enough.

More to the story…

There’s almost always more to the story…

As friends and I drove to a women’s retreat on Friday evening, I made a quick comment about the forest- it looked like it had been clear-cut, and I said so. Today as we drove home, we read signs that told the story.

120 mile-per-hour winds blew through the area a few years ago, apparently damaging the trees to the point that they needed to be removed. The forest was replanted the next year, and with closer inspection (through the car window on winding roads- you do what you can!) I noticed saplings.

It reminded me of conversations about people- students and friends- who have mostly-unknown stories. The stories explain why we are what we are and refute the easily-made assumptions about each other.

Stories can’t, and aren’t, always known, though. Between miscommunications, professionalism, and a desire to keep private the stories that are not ours to share, and plain old insecurity, errant assumptions abound.

In the meantime, I sense my own opportunity to shift the angle of my assumptions. What if, instead of assuming I knew, I remembered the incomplete nature of my awareness? What if I assumed that there’s more to the story?

Maybe love would blossom and healing would be fostered. Maybe I could extend grace more automatically and judgement less often.

Maybe the greater Story would be better known.

I wish

I could communicate just how dear, how precious, my friend Jesus is. .
Words could share the sweetness of sitting with Him.
I would remember mystery of His kindness everyday.

But as I feel the frailty of words and the limitations of explanations,
It seems the best thing to do is just
be.

still

why is it so hard
still
to stop being productive
or at least,
pretending to be,
when the right thing to do
is to
just.
be.
still.

One of those days

…that start poorly
…then get worse
…when you fight to have a good attitude
…when it’s a battle to send a text to say, “please pray”
…when you read your Bible to put your head on straight
…when you must worship to work because the news won’t cut it this morning

Today is one of those days when I fear polluting the whole day with discouragement

and instead, grace flows and He fights the battle in my place.

So I look back with a grateful heart and see mercy here, there, and everywhere. I am not alone in any sense of the word; I am surrounded by love, even when the battle rages.

Mercy for the Independent

Independence…it’s a good thing, right?

I’d like to think so.  My natural tendency is some odd combination of fiercely independent and people-pleasing rolled into one.  Neither option is healthy or God-glorifying, unfortunately.  (Oh, how I wish they were sometimes!)

Isaiah 30:18 has been one of my favorite verses for a long time.  As is normal for me, I returned to this chapter to let it sink in more; as is normal for God, He encouraged me through His Word.

The rest of the chapter is not exactly birthday songs and party hats.  God’s people had forgotten/ignored Him, tried to solve their own problems, and experienced trouble because of their choices.  Their biggest problem may have been their ardent desire to be independent.  He is still God, though.

“Therefore the LORD longs to be gracious to you,
And therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you.
For the LORD is a God of justice;
How blessed are all those who long for Him.”

In the midst of their independence and consequential trouble, God’s people heard truth based entirely on God’s character in the face of their abundant issues.

Maybe the reason this verse gets to me is the overwhelming kindness of God expressed here. In the face of my issues, His character remains.  He is gracious, compassionate, just, and patient, and He is the One I need!  Where I desire to be independent, He longs to be gracious. Where I want to have it all together and not need help, He is compassionate.  When I want things done yesterday, He blesses those who wait for Him.

Maybe dependence is a good thing…

Hope

Life is a hope; change is a promise.

I will plant a bulb and hope that come spring days in a few months, green life will poke through the cold ground.  The bulb may also rot.

I will nurture a child and hope that come hard times, the deeply-planted love and care will encourage perseverance.  It may appear to be for naught.

I will do my best to trust the One Who does all things well, Who sees beyond my view, and Who promises an eternal hope.  On days when hope (for me or the ones I love) is hard to see, I will trust His promise.