A Little Rest

 Bedtime Stories, September 2009: Ayden, me, and Cadence

A Light Burden

A few weeks ago Rich and I were fortunate enough to enjoy dinner at the home of my dear friend Kate. She offered up a delicious wintry stew and her fine company. We talked about her recent birthday, her upcoming trip to her homeland, Ireland, our new grandson, and the imminent return of her eldest daughter, son-in-law and twin grandchildren, who were moving back to Kate's very neighborhood after living in Utah for a few years.



And we talked about faith. Specifically, we talked about my faith. Kate steers the conversation there each time we congregate, saying she wishes she had a faith like mine. These exchanges are always loving, but Kate doesn't pull punches, either. She isn't afraid to ask tough questions.

This time, her final question to me was, "What if you're wrong? What if at the end, there's just--nothing?"

I smiled and said, "I'm not wrong."
She persisted: "But what if you are?"

I persisted: "I'm not."

"You're that positive?"

"I am. Remember the story I told you, about the glorious look on my mother's face a few hours before she died, when she saw something that Dad and I [who were in the room with her] couldn't see? I'm not wrong."

 
Kate had heard the story before. She poured us each another glass of wine and the conversation turned to her garden.

Driving home later, Rich and I discussed the other obvious answer to that question:

If I'm wrong, what have I lost by following Christ?

I didn't raise the point with Kate because I wanted her to hear my certainty. But it's a good question, all the same.

And it's probably a question I can't answer fairly. Dwelling in Him has changed me. Following Him has led me to places I would not otherwise have discovered.

I can say this, though: He's asked very little of me in light of what He's offered me. Spending eternity in the presence of my God is, to put it mildly, A Very Big Deal.

I want to invite my friend Kate (and you, if you share her questions), to follow Him for a while and see what happens. What do you have to lose?

Happy New Year.

28 Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take My yoke upon you. Let Me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For My yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT)

Fields and Floods, Rocks, Hills and Plains

Bridge over Trabuco Creek 

Flooded In!

Our little community of Trabuco Canyon made the news last week [video clip below] as the flooding Trabuco Creek stranded young hikers, who had to be airlifted to safety after a cold, wet night on Holy Jim Trail.

By the next day, we were stranded as well, though warm and dry in our home. A single road provides access to our canyon. At its south end it crosses over Trabuco Creek, which is usually a dry wash with perhaps a bit of mud at its bottom. On this day, floodwaters overran the bridge and clogged it with debris.

Mudslide to the North

Less than a mile to the north, a mudslide had closed the road. With both ends blocked, we were staying put.

I was frustrated. Who doesn't have a lot to do three days before Christmas? I had important, time-sensitive tasks at work, too. Further, my boss was on vacation, leaving me in charge, and I couldn't be there. It was not a good day to be stuck at home.

I resigned myself to the situation. Our power was out, so I couldn't engage in any industrious domestic tasks, like laundry or bread-baking. It was a day to be, rather than to do.

I could sit by a window and read, though. So I did. I rubbed my dogs' tummies. I chatted with my husband and his son, Ryan, who lives with us. I contemplated painting my toenails, but didn't.

Two neighbors stopped by over the course of the day. With nowhere to go, we had leisurely visits. We stood on our deck and listened to boulders, sounding like muffled thunder as they crashed through Hickey Creek, a feeder to Trabuco Creek that runs right through our neighborhood. We prayed for those in nearby communities whose homes had been damaged by mudslides and for the emergency crews laboring to clear the roadways.

I can count the cost of the "lost" day--it was minimal. The next day I was able to reach my office and complete the critical tasks. When Christmas arrived, we were ready.

It's harder for me to count the value of the unplanned day "stuck" at home with my family. I had not expected a storm to be so restorative.

10 The LORD sat as King at the flood;
Yes, the LORD sits as King forever.
11 The LORD will give strength to His people;
The LORD will bless His people with peace. 
Psalm 29:10-11 (NASB)

Messy Christmas!

Buck and Sawyer Matoushek

Love and Dirt

Christmas is a messy holiday. Evergreen trees drop needles that migrate throughout the house. Bits of giftwrap stray into remote corners of the living room. Dirty dishes multiply on the kitchen counter. If children are present, at least one sticky, abandoned candy cane is sure to surface as we tidy up after our loved ones leave.

Yet nobody says, "Let's just skip Christmas this year. The cleanup is too big a job." We all know that love can be messy.

That's why it's appropriate that Christmas entails some clutter. After all, we're celebrating the arrival on earth of God as Man to do some very messy business. Christ was born in a dirty barn, He died nailed to a cross, and He was resurrected from a cave. Tidiness is not a feature of the gospel.

God got dirty so we could become clean. That's worth celebrating.

9 God showed how much He loved us by sending His one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through Him. 10 This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.

1 John 4:9-10 (NLT)

Just as the Angel had Told Them

Christmas 2009: Family Gang Activity

Not what we Expected

A few thousand years ago, folks were expecting our Messiah to appear as conquering king. Instead, we got a helpless Baby. His birth split our calendar into "before" and "after." His birth conquered death. He came to save me. And you.

Merry, merry Christmas to all.

8 That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep. 9 Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, 10 but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. 11 The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! 12 And you will recognize Him by this sign: You will find a Baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

13 Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying,

14 “Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

15 When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

16 They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the Baby, lying in the manger. 17 After seeing Him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this Child. 18 All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, 19 but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often. 20 The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. It was just as the angel had told them.
Luke 2:8-20 (NLT)

 

A Little Something for Christmas

Elaine, Cadence, Ayden, Kevin, Carly, Christmas 2008

Present

Sunday night our church offered a Christmas concert following the 5 p.m. service. We invited our children, grandchildren, and my co-grandma Judi to join us. Everyone declined--not a stunning result, as all the invited households are at least an hour away.

Since our campus is large and rain was pouring, we drove from the Worship Center to the Refinery, the church youth building where the musicians--several different Christian acts--would play. The parking lot closest to the Refinery was full, so we stashed the car at the next-closest lot and trudged through the rain to the small theater inside.

It was packed. People milled around looking for empty seats. Rain makes my arthritic bones unhappy, and I knew standing through the concert would not be pleasant.

Rich and I stood at the end of an aisle of seats, scanning for an opening. After a few moments the man seated in the row next to us said, "Would you like to sit down? There are two seats here, they're just not together."
He reorganized his party and the two women seated closest to them. Rich thanked him.

Now we had two seats together. I relaxed a little, gave thanks that we didn't have 15 family members in tow, and settled in.

I need to explain here that for a few months Rich and I have felt led to explore other local churches. We hadn't shared this possibility with anyone--we'd simply discussed it among ourselves.

I also need to explain here that a few weeks ago my friend Bob Coller sent me a link to a YouTube video of James Taylor performing Go Tell it on the Mountain  along with a note that touched me.

So, after we'd slogged through the rain at this church we're no longer sure is the best choice for us and narrowly avoided being part of the standing room only crowd at the concert, I realized that my seat was directly behind a young man who had the proportions of a linebacker. A professional linebacker. I couldn't see the stage.

I was beginning to wish we'd gone home after the worship service.

The first act to perform, The Natures, took the stage. They'd performed at our church before and their style (they call it "rootsy and organic;" I call it refreshing and uplifting) had lightened my heart. I leaned forward to see if I could peek at the stage over the massive shoulder of the man in front of me.

As I listened, the familiar, but freshly arranged, tune of Go Tell it on the Mountain washed over the audience.

At that moment I understood that I was where I was meant to be. I relaxed into that warm feeling and enjoyed the concert.

Afterwards, we spotted Natalie Watts of The Natures in the lounge outside the theater. I approached her, intending to thank her for the performance. Instead I babbled about uncertainties about our church and Go Tell it on the Mountain and the crowd at the concert and the miraculous appearance of the seats.

She was gracious as she listened, setting aside the conversation she'd been engaged in when we walked up. Then she invited us to visit her church.

And I understood why we were meant to be wedged in at the concert behind that big guy on that cold, rainy night. I felt the Spirit tapping me on the shoulder as she extended the invitation.

We'll be visiting Natalie's church next month.

Please enjoy their music.

47 Save us, O LORD our God,
And gather us from among the nations,
To give thanks to Your holy name
And glory in Your praise.
48 Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel,
From everlasting even to everlasting.
And let all the people say, "Amen."
Praise the LORD!
Psalm 106:47-48 (NASB) 

The Heart of Christmas

Me, Ayden, and the top of Cadence's head, Christmas 2009

Reason to Celebrate

We've decorated our Christmas tree, attended parties, bought (but not yet wrapped!) gifts, baked, and hung lights from the eaves. Our nativity sits in its place of honor, where lamplight illuminates the figure of the Baby Jesus in His manger. Mistletoe hangs from the ceiling in our entryway. We are almost ready for Christmas.

Despite all the energy expended on the trappings of Christmas, we're determined to keep its meaning centered in our hearts.

The mystery, wonder, and fulfillment of Christmas is well-captured in this line from a song:

Did you know

that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?
When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

Okay, the theology of this lyric is suspect. We know that Mary knew, because scripture tells us so. But we don't need to turn to Christmas carols for theology. We can appreciate them as beautiful music that directs our hearts to the meaning of Christmas.

Please enjoy.


"Mary did you Know" by Mark Lowry

30 The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary; for you have found favor with God. 31 "And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name Him Jesus. 32 "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David; 33 and He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and His kingdom will have no end."

Luke 1:30-33 (NASB)

Encouraging Words

United Church of the Valley Christmas Cantata 2010

Pleasing my Father

My dad's approval is important to me. As a child, I would have rather endured a spanking than heard him quietly say, "I'm disappointed in you."

My dad has also encouraged me to write since I was a small child.

So when I blogged about his church's Christmas Cantata last week, I took a deep breath when I sent him an email:

Hi Dad,

My blog post today is about our visit to your church on Sunday. There's a link beneath my signature if you'd like to read it.
We really enjoyed it. Thanks again for inviting us.

It had been a long time since I had offered up my writing for him to read.

He responded, later that day, writing that he hoped we'd enjoyed the performance.

I was crushed. Where was my approval? Why wasn't my daddy proud of me? I was seven years old all over again. I mentioned my hurt to Rich, who wisely commented that I hadn't asked Dad to comment on the blog; I'd simply invited him to read it.

A few hours later my dad sent me another message. Tears stung beneath my eyelids as I read it: 

I under spoke; your blog is beautiful!
Love, Pop

Later, the tears welled again as I suddenly realized that my post contained not a single word of appreciation for the choir's performance. The bitter taste of selfishness rose in my throat.

I edited my post to reflect our enjoyment of the cantata. And I felt like a grownup as I realized that when I bestow praise, it pleases my father. And my Father.

¹¹ Dear brothers and sisters, I close my letter with these last words: Be joyful. Grow to maturity. Encourage each other. Live in harmony and peace. Then the God of love and peace will be with you.
2 Corinthians 13:11 (NLT)

Boat Parades and Burdens

Boat Parade, Dana Point, California, December, 2008

Steps to Obedience

Boat parades are a favorite Christmas tradition in waterfront communities. Participants spend days decorating their vessels with Christmas lights, Santas, stars and crosses. Skippers host parties aboard their boats, welcoming guests to enjoy the spectacle while enjoying food and drink. Boatloads of spectators line the edges of the parade channel to take in the festivities. Landlubbers bundle up and watch the parade from the shoreline.

In Villa Park, California, residents decorate their boats and tow them through the city streets on trailers. Lacking a harbor or lake, the people of that community found a novel way to enjoy the fun of a boat parade on dry land.

I think of Villa Park's boat parade when I'm called to do something that seems to be beyond my abilities.

Say, for example, I'm feeling that insistent tug to care for orphans. While we're not positioned to adopt a child at this stage of our lives, I can still obey. God will never ask me to do something that He hasn't equipped me to do. I could mentor a girl living in an orphanage or sponsor an orphan in a faraway land.

If the good people of Villa Park can find a way to stage a boat parade without a harbor, I can find a way to obey my God when He calls on me.

33 Teach me Your decrees, O Lord;
I will keep them to the end.
34 Give me understanding and I will obey Your instructions;
I will put them into practice with all my heart.
35 Make me walk along the path of Your commands,
for that is where my happiness is found.

Psalm 119:33-35 (NLT)

Love in a Pan

Making Cinnamon Rolls with Elaine and Cadence, Christmastime,  2008

Making it Our Christmas

In 1986, my daughter Elaine was four years old. We spent Christmas in my parents' home that year. On Christmas Eve, she and I baked cinnamon rolls for the family to enjoy on Christmas morning.

We made them again the next year. And the year after that. And every year after that.

In 2005, she moved over Thanksgiving weekend. For the first time, we baked cinnamon rolls in her kitchen that year. She was still settling in to her new place. As we kneaded, she said to me, "I don't have to have a tree for it to be Christmas. I don't even have to have presents. But we have to bake cinnamon rolls."

Making cinnamon roll  is slow stuff. First we mix the dough, then we set it aside to rise for an hour. Now we have time to sit and catch up or wrap a few last-minute gifts. Next we roll the dough, spread the butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon, roll up the dough, slice it, and set it aside to rise again. Finally we bake the rolls, pan by pan, and glaze them. By the time the last pan is retrieved from the oven and set on a rack to cool, we'll have devoted several hours to the project.

By sheer luck, we've built a tradition that comes with a built-in chunk of time together. When we baked that first batch of rolls in 1986, I had no idea that we'd do it every year. I couldn't imagine my four-year-old as a grown woman with her own home and family. I did not foresee, back then, how precious those hours in the kitchen together each Christmas season would become.

I stumbled into a tremendous blessing that Christmas in 1986.

18 Lift up your eyes and look around;

all your children gather and come to you.
As surely as I live,” declares the LORD,
“you will wear them all as ornaments;
you will put them on, like a bride.
Isaiah 49:18 (NIV)

Vague Prayer, Specific Answers

Fallen Coast Live Oak, Quercus agrifolia  

When a Tree Falls

Yesterday morning, as I do each morning, I prayed while showering. Usually I use this time to pray specifically about the day ahead, lifting up friends and family with needs, giving thanks, and asking for help with the challenges I foresee. It's a good habit for me, as few distractions present themselves in the shower.

Yesterday morning I was blank. I listened for a while, then offered the vaguest of prayers: "Watch over us today, Lord." I didn't even specify who "us" was.

A few hours later, at work, I received a photo via text message from my husband Rich. It showed me that one of our magnificent oak trees had loosed its grip in the rain-softened earth and fallen over. Son Ryan had watched the tree topple from our back deck and contacted his dad with the news.

Today, I am immensely grateful for God's careful watch over us yesterday.

Each morning, school children make their way up a path beside our fence. It's the shortcut out of our little canyon. We purposely left an open pathway when we fenced our property because we didn't want to block the kids' shortcut. The tree landed in that path:

The Neighborhood Shortcut

Had the tree come down a few hours earlier, it could have been tragic.

Rich had asked Ryan to trench away soil that had accumulated along the fence at the bottom of our property. Ryan's been working at that task each day. Had he been trenching with his shovel when the tree fell, he would have been in harm's way.

Typically I put our three beloved dogs in the yard when I leave for work. It was cold yesterday morning, and Ryan was home, so I left them in the house.

When we added the fence, we included a jog in the fence line to accommodate parking at the bottom of our lot. My old boat sits on a trailer there, awaiting restoration. Ryan parks there. The tree missed those targets (along with a fire hydrant) by a few feet.

Our Parking Pad

We are sad to lose this spreading old oak, which gave us beauty and shade. We are filled with praise, too. No one was crushed beneath the enormous tree. No significant property damage resulted: one fence rail was broken. Part of our neighbor's rotted deck, which he was preparing to demolish, came down.

The Lord was watching over many of us yesterday.

6 When you pray, go into a room alone and close the door. Pray to your Father in private. He knows what is done in private, and He will reward you. 7 When you pray, don't talk on and on as people do who don't know God. They think God likes to hear long prayers. 8 Don't be like them. Your Father knows what you need before you ask.
Matthew 6:6-8 (CEV)



Make a Joyful Noise!

United Church of the Valley Choir and Instrumental Ensemble

December 5, 2010

Being Church

Sunday, after writing about Advent, Rich and I drove to Murrieta to worship at my father's church, United Church of the Valley. Dad had invited us to attend his congregation's Christmas Cantata, described in the worship bulletin as "A service of Advent and Christmas carols and song with scriptures and poetry from Kneeling in Bethlehem by Ann Weems." Dad sings in the choir at UCV; he's on the far right in the photo.

UCV is a young church. In the bulletin it was reported that 72 people had attended the previous week's service. They meet in a middle school auditorium. About 20,000 people worship each weekend at our home church, so I was expecting the service to feel different from our customary Sunday worship. 

In every important way, it didn't. Sure, superficial differences were everywhere, from the borrowed meeting space outfitted with folding chairs to the fellowship refreshments arranged on a table at the back of the room. But the key element of a worship service was exactly the same: believers and seekers coming together to glorify our God. We prayed, we sang, we listened.

The cantata, Prepare: A Cradle Waits, focused my worship on the amazing gift God sent us when His Son came to earth. [edited 12/8/10 to add:] The music was glorious, the readings carefully selected and beautifully delivered.

When two young boys struggled to light the candles at the beginning of the service, a woman dressed in a choir robe helped them. A church member assisted the pastor in serving communion. Members of the congregation read selections chosen for Advent.

After the service we gathered in the rear of the room for fellowship. I noticed a table display offering bottled water for donations in support of the church's mission to Chacraseca, Nicaragua. The church's small size does not deter it from engaging in important work in His name.

As we drove home, I realized that worshiping with this young, reaching congregation had reminded me that church isn't just a place we go. It's what we are.

22 God has put all things under the authority of Christ and has made Him head over all things for the benefit of the church. 23 And the church is His body; it is made full and complete by Christ, who fills all things everywhere with Himself.
Ephesians 1:22-23 (NLT)

What are We Waiting For?

Papa Rich and Cadence, Christmas Day, 2009

Prepare Him Room--it's Advent!

We've hung lights on the eaves and set out nativities. Stockings hang from our mantel. Garland loops in swags from the banister rail, tied in place with festive red bows. A bit of mistletoe dangles above the entry hall. We're choosing gifts and planning family gatherings.

Christmas is coming. And that means Advent is here. We are waiting and preparing.

I've found a wonderful devotional guide for Advent that I hope you'll enjoy. It's written by Reverend Dr. Mark D. Roberts and published on BeliefNet.com. It's helped me to sidestep the the trap of holiday trappings. If I'm in a quandry over which roll of giftwrap is more chic, I'm losing focus. 

Practicing Advent reminds me that we prepare to celebrate the anniversary of Christ's birth, the greatest gift humanity has ever received.

Contemplating our Savior's arrival on earth as an infant knocks the bustle right out of me.

It calms my heart during this busy season. It keeps me fixed on love, not stuff.

13 Then Isaiah said, “Listen well, you royal family of David! Isn’t it enough to exhaust human patience? Must you exhaust the patience of my God as well? 14 All right then, the Lord himself will give you the sign. Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel (which means ‘God is with us’). 15 By the time this child is old enough to choose what is right and reject what is wrong, he will be eating yogurt and honey.
Isaiah 7:13-15 (NLT)

Real Gratitude

Exquisite, Clumsy Figurines and Rich's Kids:

Sean, Grandson Ayden, Rebecca, Ryan, 2005

Worst Blog Post Ever!

Not long ago I wrote a post about how I sometimes forget to give thanks for the "small" blessings. You can read it here. It's problematic because I only discuss my gratitude for good stuff.

Decorating for Christmas this week brought the post to mind and provided me with an opportunity to complete the discussion. In 1987, Rich's two oldest children, Sean and Rebecca, made the clay trees and candle holder in today's blog photo. They were six and five years old that Christmas.

Like many families, our Christmas decor includes crafts made by our children at some tender age, when their enthusiasm outstripped their expertise. And like many families, we reminisce as we remove the tissue from our treasures, recalling how they made their way into our Christmas box.

At Christmas in 2005, Rich's children gave him the portrait you see here. It proved to be Sean's last Christmas on earth, as he was killed in a motorcycle accident in September of 2006.

When I unwrapped the clay figures the other night, Rich winced and blinked. Then he smiled and we speculated together as to whether the blue piece was a candle holder, or something else. We talked about past Christmases and our plans for the coming holiday. We shared a hug.

As we prayed before bed that night, I thought about the incomplete blog post. And I thought about my husband, who continued praising God from the abyss of grief.

That's gratitude.

20 Job stood up and tore his robe in grief. Then he shaved his head and fell to the ground to worship.

21 He said,
“I came naked from my mother’s womb,
and I will be naked when I leave.
The Lord gave me what I had,
and the Lord has taken it away.
Praise the name of the Lord!”
Job 1:20-21 (NLT)

18 Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 (NLT)