Hi Sweet Friends,
It’s been a while. I thought maybe my blogging days were over, but here I am again. There were a hundred reasons for me not to blog, still are. But after reading my three-page Christmas letter this year, Kevin said I needed to cut half of it out and start blogging again. I instantly knew he was right. Questions like, “Everybody blogs, why would anybody read mine?” or “What do I have to say that hasn’t been said a million times over by much more gifted people?” plague me. And there it is, the words “mine,” “I,” and “me.” God is lovingly and graciously reminding me that none of this is about me. Why wouldn’t I take any and every opportunity to share of the greatness and glory of my Savior? Why wouldn’t gratitude and love alone drive me to proclaim the mighty hand of God reaching for His creation? So, here we go. Not because I’m worthy, but because He is. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. I’m going to relay here portions of my Christmas letter minus the family news. Forgive me if it’s repetition for you, but it seemed like a good place to start.
As I once again watched Hobby Lobby roll out their Christmas décor in July, I heard all the comments about it being too soon. I rolled my eyes in agreement with the others at the ridiculousness of it all while secretly jumping up and down in my heart. Always chasing a feeling, I thrilled at the thought of the coming season. As a dreamer, the “coming” is always better than the “being here.” I listen to Christmas music out of season. I make notes for a Christmas letter that I never use. I buy gifts in February praying that Kevin doesn’t notice the 40 sherpa blankets that were only $4 that are hidden in the attic. He didn’t. And he’s welcome. I love to look at recipes I never make. I buy games and puzzles we never play. I’m hoping for an experience, a feeling, a sense of control, happiness and comfort in a hard world. Those aren’t bad things, they just aren’t “the” thing. I’ve lived long enough to know that fantasy is better than reality. In fantasy, we never factor in sin and brokenness, ours or anyone else’s. I sometimes feel like I wrote a story for a movie, but no one is reading the script I gave them. So, in the daily opportunities presented to me to remind me that it’s not about me, I sometimes see the light. I’m reading a book called Everything Is Never Enough. Ain’t it the truth! Having chased down and caught so many things I thought were “it,” I can tell you the things that I know aren’t. As glorious a gift as they are, “it” is not my kids, house, bank account, ministry, hobbies, jobs, friends, health, or even relief. Whatever any of us have been waiting for to get that feeling we’ve been chasing, it’s not that. How am I so sure? Hang with me. And did I mention my kids?
With everyone married, gainfully employed, pretty healthy, and Jesus lovers, we pretty much have that one wrapped up, right? Just give everybody a high five and move on to the next project. But that would leave out our kids’ own journeys in battling in a broken world. Or the fact that I miss them terribly. Or that their pains make mine doubled because of my love for them. We’ve lost more precious babies to miscarriage this year. Grown-up decisions and responsibilities are always heavier than we thought they would be. And, again, no one seems to be reading the scripts we all prepare for each other in our brains. Normal is glorious, and normal is hard. Throw in an unexpected pain, and we can feel like we’re suffocating. Don’t get me wrong, our kids are the best people I know. And don’t get me started on the walk-ons (AKA in-laws). I think we should double whatever we’re paying them to be in our bunch. But if I thought kids would bring me eternal happiness, I was right. And wrong. If my kids are my life, then I will suck the joy out of every relationship. I will have a never-ending list of demands they must meet in order for me to feel secure, needed, and loved. Want to destroy a relationship? Make it your life. It will fail. It has to. We weren’t made to find our life in people, places, or things. I’ve watched Kevin go from a 19-year-old kid to a 62-year-old man learning this principle. Sometimes the hard way. He would tell you it’s a never-ending journey. And it’s worth it.
Kevin is the busiest retired person I know. While Fedex disappeared into oblivion after 37 years, church life and ministry have filled in any blank spaces. It seems that new doors and opportunities keep opening and he keeps walking through. We’ve been blessed to buy a different church building after outgrowing the one we’ve rented for years. Our relationships in the recovery community continue to grow and bless us individually and as a church. Many of our seats are filled with those fighting the hard battle of recovery from addiction every day. Our jail ministry blesses those isolated from society. We’ve seen babies born to single moms through our Embrace Grace program. People come to our Celebrate Recovery program that encourages sobriety and gives the hope of healing in Christ. We watch new life emerge from bondage and never tire of the miracle. I’ve seen the expressions of people being baptized that look like years of suffering and shame have been washed from their face. I watch people bravely and humbly come forward in church to pray for themselves and others to reject the great lie and receive the great rescue. We pray to steward well the little piece of the Kingdom that is our community and church. We don’t pretend to always know what we’re doing or have all the answers, but we rest confidently in the One who does. I’ve prayed a prayer in recent years that has changed my life. It’s simply this, “Lord, let me love who You love, the way that You love them. Let me value what You value. Let me see our worth to You. Everyone’s worth.”
Something is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it. What does the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus say about our worth to Him? What does us being in relationship with God mean to Him? Everything! He gave it all to make it possible. And not while we were begging to be rescued, but while we were enemies, while we were seeking self-love and independence. While we were chasing “it.” When we didn’t even know or care and just wanted our way, Jesus came and bought us for God as His love gift to the Father grieving His lost sons and daughters. Jesus came to bring us home.
We’ll light the lantern and gather in the barn on Christmas Eve as we have done for 30 years now. We’ll tell the old, old story and we’ll sing the old, old songs. I’ll watch the light flicker in my grandchildren’s eyes, as I did in their parents’. I will marvel at the miracle of God becoming man in order to rescue us. I will pray the verses from Psalm 78:4-7: “We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power, and the wonders he has done…so the next generation would know Him, even the children yet to be born, and they in turn tell their children…that they would put their trust in God and not forget.” We’re training worshipers. And not just children, but anyone in our sphere. Worship is all of our stories. We’re all worshiping something, even ourselves. Especially ourselves. Worshiping God is what we are made for. It is the fulfillment of the “it” we have been chasing. Worshiping God is our soul coming home. It’s agreeing with God about the truth of who He is and who we are to Him. What must that sound like to God? In Tauren Wells’ song Let the Church Sing, he says, “Ain’t no sound like the forgiven.” I hope you’ll listen to it. The sound of miracles! The angels marvel. To watch their High King leave everything to rescue a people fighting and kicking against Him. Such unworthiness! And yet, Jesus’ coming, dying, and defeating death says to us all, “You’re worth it to Me.” Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. There’s no sound like it.
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