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imagesChristmas has been cleaned away from our house.

The tree is down and out on the deck, the lights are packed away, my collection of nativities are snug in their boxes, and I am thrilled with the cleanliness and order of my living room.

I have been accused of being too excited to un-decorate from the Christmas season. Perhaps it is because I start hinting at doing so just after opening all of the presents on Christmas morning? I do admit to loving the process, but not because I am putting away Christmas.

I think I have discovered that what I love about putting away the Christmas decorations is that I have all the time in the world to do it. I can look at each decoration with precious memories of who gave it to us, when and why. The tree in our home is not an interior decorator’s masterpiece, it is a conglomeration of ornaments of sentimentality, tossed on the branches by our trio of children who look at each and reminisce as they hang them precariously on the tips of the branches.

When we decorate for the season, it is a far more rushed affair! This year even more than others, as we struggled for so long to find the time to all go to get a tree from the tree farm. Finally, thanks to a ‘snow day’ on December 19th, we got the tree. Then, on December 22nd, I donned my grumpy pants, and told the men in our house that they had better get that tree in the stand and in the living room before I got home. Then, on December 23rd, I re-wore my grumpy pants and told everyone that they had better be home and unpacking the tree decorations that afternoon … or else! So, by December 25th, I was just thankful that it had gotten done.

And now it is all over. The hustle and the bustle, the wrappings and the unwrappings, the cooking and the eating (and the eating, and the eating).

As I admired each decoration, with memories and stories and love attached. As I placed each representative of the first Christmas story back in it’s packaging, the song of the season for me played again in my heart.

Although I was slow and negligent to prepare the outward elements of the Christmas season, my inner preparations and focus were perfectly clear all season long.

It stared in late November when I encountered this song, as though God himself set it to reverberate in my ears, my brain, my heart, just long enough to know that it was my focus of worshiping Him for this season.

As if to confirm my understanding of the earlier gift of this song from my Creator, as we sat to enjoy our Christmas Day feast together … snow was falling …

“Oh, You came like a winter snow
Quiet and soft and slow
Falling from the sky in the night
To the earth below”

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As I entered the quiet room, I flicked on the light … no movement.images

I moved the blankets, still warm with the heat of his body, down off his chest … still no movement.

This man-boy sleeping before me is completely without movement, even the rise and fall of his chest with life-sustaining oxygen is almost indiscernible.

Waking my son recently gave me a birds eye view of the effects of God breathing life into man and woman.

When I entered his room he was completely unaware of my presence, of the bright lights being turned on, or that I had moved his blanket off of his upper body. He lay on his bed motionless, even the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was almost without motion.

When we sleep our breathing slows immensely, because our muscles and organs are not needing large amounts of oxygen in their resting state. As our breathing slows, our body’s processes slow, it is as though the life within us were hibernating. We are still fully alive, yet we are not fully living our life.

Some of us live our daily lives as though we are still in that hibernating state of sleep. Our bodies function, we do all that is needed to be done in order to sustain our existence, yet we live as though we are asleep, our organs functioning, but not as though we are fully awake … not as though we are fully living our lives.

As I worked at stirring my son, the moment of his waking was discernible. He inhaled a deep and audible breath, and as that first breath of the day was entering his lungs, signs of life were also discernible in his body. His eyes moved behind the veil of his lids, his limbs moved and he stretched his body, as though making more room for the oxygen entering his lungs.

His awakening, heralded by his intake of the first big breath of the day stirring every cells in his body to be fully awakened, fully alive.

This is the freshness of each new day, of each new year. To take in the breath of life given to us by our Creator, and to make our days, our years, our lives worthy of the gift He has given.

“Then the Lord God
formed a man
from the dust of the ground
and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life,
and the man became a living being.
(Genesis 2:7)

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As the Christmas celebrations wind down and the New Year looms nearer and nearer I am in the midst of saying good-bye to the successes and failures of 2012, and saying hello to the goals for success in 2013.

The goals for 2013 that I have shared so far have been about my Earthly loves … my family. They are the ones who I consider to be such sweet gifts from God.

images-3For today, though, I am considering my goals in my walk with God.

These goals are not easy to come up with, compared with my goals for my marriage and goals for my children. Maybe it is because I feel rather ‘pious’ in considering trying to improve in my walk with God … as though that is possible, not because I am so ‘good’, but because He is truly so good to me.

I could say that my list includes goals like reading my Bible everyday, witnessing to at least one person each week, or doing random acts of kindness for total strangers. All of those are good goals, but is that what God desires of from me?

The more I have tried to write goals, the less valuable them seem to be, in comparison to the grace, the freedom and the love that God offers to me (to us).

As I understand that the point of doing this in regards to my relationship with my husband or my relationship with my kids, I realize that my goals in those relationships are intended to improve my relationships with those people … they are self-improvement goals, for my benefit. I hope to improve something in their lives, thereby improving my own.

As I ponder my goals in my relationship with my Savior, and consider how I might improve my relationship with Him, I realize that there is nothing that I can do to change it, increase it, improve it. My relationship with my God is not dependent on my changes, or my actions, or my goals. My relationship with God has always been complete from the first moment that I handed the keys of my life over to my heavenly father. From that wonder-filled moment I was reunited with my Creator, and there was no altering my steps from that moment on.

Each day I awaken with Him in my first breath. He guides my every step, and when I side-step Him, He is still right beside me. He makes me aware of His presence in the wind through the trees, the joy of watching my children grow and learn, the scent of my hubby when he kisses me goodnight. He never leaves my side, whether I walk through rain or sun.

My goal for 2013, in my walk with God …

is to believe Him when He says, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5)

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imagesI’ve been thinking of the story of Henny-Penny lately. I can almost hear her words, “the sky is falling.”

Henny-Penny was a hen, who was out in the corn fields when something hit her on the head, and of course she thought, the world is ending! As a good and responsible citizen of her community, she then purposed to go tell the king. On her way she told her story to many of her neighbors, the rooster, duck, goose, turkey and fox who offered to show them the way to the king. Well Foxy-Woxy was a sly one, and led them all into his dark hole, resulting in a beheading of each of the neighbors, except for Henny-Penny, who had been warned and was able to run away … without telling the king that the world was ending.

Apparently there are Henny-Pennys in human form too, and not just in today’s society, but all the way back to images-2the Mayans. According to the Mayan Calendar the world, as we know it will end tomorrow (for those of you who know me, NO, this is not why were are so late getting our Christmas tree!).

“The sky is falling …”

Declarations of the world ending, complete with days and times have been made time after time, and yet, we are still here, plodding along. I wrote, just a year and a half ago about the world ending on May 11, 2011 (it didn’t).

The Bible is clear about one thing regarding the end of the world, that no one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” (Matthew 24:36)

Just like in the story of Henny-Penny, the Bible told us that these world-ending declarations would come and what to think about them, “if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Christ!’ or ‘There He is!’ do not believe it. For false Christ’s and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and miracles to deceive even the elect—if that were possible. See, I have told you ahead of time. So if anyone tells you, ‘There He is, out in the desert,’ do not go out; or, ‘Here He is, in the inner rooms,’ do not believe it.” (Matthew 24:23-26)

And just like the story of Henny-Penny, those who follow that sly fox into the darkness, might just lose their heads life.

“I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles.
I am sending you to them

to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light,
and from the power of Satan to God,

so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place
among those who are sanctified by faith in me.”
Acts 26:17-18

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If there was ever a time when the reality that we live in a sin filled world has been so obvious, it is the tragic deaths in that elementary school in Connecticut last Friday.images-1

It would be impossible for anyone to have heard the news of the horrific events inflicted on the most innocent and pure in our society (children) and not felt the weight of tragedy and loss.

This violent act has some asking the question “where was God?”

…sigh …

I heard a commentary on the weekend expressing a response to that question. The response dealt with how we have kicked prayer and God from our schools, how we have devalued human life and the institution of marriage by redefinition, how we have ignored the teachings of the Bible and thrown out God’s laws from our society.

I disagree! Not with what we have done to eliminate Judeo-Christian values from society, but with the insinuation that the sinful human actions at Sandy Hook Elementary school were allowed as some vindictive act of Creator God.

My God is not vindictive!

Genesis makes it clear that God created our world, from the birds of the air to the fish of the deep to our own humanity. He did so in such a way that the Earth and all within it would be self sustaining. It was perfect!

But, He is not a God who forces himself on us, like a delusional attacker. No, He gave His most high level creatures (aka. humans), choice in obedience … and they (and we) failed we fell for Satan’s schemes:images

“We know that we are children of God, and that the whole world is under the control of the evil one. We know also that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true. And we are in him who is true by being in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.” 1 John 5:19-20

From that moment on God’s ‘pièce de résistance’ (the human race) has been failing, and failing miserably. We live with the very real consequences of being creatures who are born with a sinful nature, since Adam and Eve made the choice to sin in the Garden of Eden. Each and every part of the entirety of creation was affected, and continues to be affected by sin. Our perfect, spotless, free and easy existence has been blood, sweat and tears ever since.

We still live as the image bearers of our Creator, but we are tarnished, bruised and fragile because of it.

Because of sin:

  • we experience death.
  • we experience health problems.
  • we feel hurt and pain and loss.
  • crops are lost.
  • people starve.
  • wars are fought.
  • people obsess about the world’s demise.

Because of sin … our sin.

There is no band-aid for the hurts that our sinful world inflict on us, or those around us. Our world is not Eden, humanity has not been there since the time of first man and first woman … that is reserved for heaven. God is not a superhero, with a cape, and a script. But, just as thousands of years ago people wished for and anticipated the coming of the Savior, whose birth we reenact in this season with young children … like the ones who died so tragically last week, we need to remember that we are not home yet. That home is the home of eternal joy, eternal peace, and eternal safety.

So close your eyes with me And hear the Father saying, ” Welcome home”
Let us find the strength in all His promises to carry on
He said, “I’ll go prepare a place for you”
So let us not forget
We are not home yet,
Keep on looking ahead, let your heart not forget
We are not home yet,
I know there’ll be a moment,
I know there’ll be a place
Where we will see our Savior and fall in His embrace
So let us not grow weary or too content to stay
‘Cause we are not home yet

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It was a miracle! It was a weekend AND it was sunny and beautiful!

With hubby and all three of our kids gone, and with our two from China opting for retail therapy, the beast and I were free to do whatever we desired on that gorgeous day. So we chose a brisk walk on the trail.

People were out in droves. There were the young teenage couples who couldn’t keep their tonsils eyes off each other, and the older couples who walked arm in arm for both physical and emotional support. There were the single walkers, with or without a beast, briskly marching along, and the families with little ones, walking at a snails pace to take in every bit of wonder around them.

I am never really sure of the real reason that beast loves to go for walks. Oh, she loves the actual walk, but deep down the thing I think she likes most is the people we meet. There is nothing like a comment like, “oh what a pretty dog” to make her ears soar, and then she will prance down the path … head swelling bigger by the moment! If the passing compliment is not enough to excite her, there is also the adoring “puppy!” from a small child! Often we will stop, and allow her adoring little admirer touch and see her up close. If there is a child’s cry or screech within earshot of our beast, I am at risk of shoulder dislocation! She immediately wants to fly into action in the direction of the cry.

For me the walks encompass so much more than just the exercise, which is beneficial, of course. It is the opportunity to be still (I rarely ‘plug in’ on my walks, but I have been known to stop and quickly email a blog post idea to myself) mentally. It allows all of the cells in my body to inhale fresh, oxygen-rich air, that can clear my mind like nothing else. I am enabled by the combination of fresh air, beauty of creation, and physical activity to become more creative, and despite that fact that I have walked this path frequently, these walks “still take my breath away and offers so much scope for imagination!” (Anne of Green Gables)

What a gift the exercise, the fresh air, the sun shining brightly in the sky were to the beasty and I … cheaper and more effective than any other therapy!

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Sometimes things happen, words are said, events enfold, and the lack of human intervention into how they enfold makes me thing that the events are fully and completely a God thing.

This happened last week.

I have the privilege of co-leading a homeroom at the high school I work with a teacher who is about as laid back as myself. We both want the group of students to feel that it is a place of freedom, of acceptance, of our genuine concern and interest in them. We do not meet that often for homeroom events, but both the teacher and I are intentional at catching up with the individual students when we see them in the hallways.

Recently we had a homeroom event scheduled and I was feeling insecure. The goal of the event was to consider three fundraisers that are happening in our school over the next number of weeks (through a number of videos and discussion), and to commit, as a homeroom group, to a specific fundraiser and goal. If I know one thing about myself, it is that I am NOT a salesperson! And the thought of failing miserably with these very valid, very worthy fundraisers put a true spirit of heaviness within me.

Thankfully, I do not lead this group alone!

The teacher spoke of having a passion for helping others, and of helping others out of that passion rather than just obligation, pressure or guilt (I was secretly ‘amening’ her message). Then the discussion, from the students, went a little downhill … although it was wonderfully honest and sincere. The overall comment was:

“I can easily donate _____ to one of the causes, but it really does not have any real meaning for me.”

So, then the teacher asked them, “what do you want to do to help someone else?”

The door to transparency was opened, and what followed, well, I believe was nothing less than a God thing.

It became apparent that the students were looking for something or someone to help that they could relate to, that they could more personally know to whom their gift, their money was going.

For whatever reason, I mentioned a local family (a single dad and two sons) who was being given Christmas gifts by the staff of a retailer I was taking a student to for Work Experience …

Instantly questions started firing:

“How old were the kids?’
I thought there were two boys, about thirteen and about ten.

“What did they like?”
I wasn’t sure, but said I could find out later that day.

“Did one of them skateboard?”

… this is where one of the students became passionate. Not a student who I would have expected to become passionate … one who spends more time with administration that with classroom teachers. His tongue was loosed … “I’ve got lots of skater t-shirts, and even new jeans that I don’t wear,” and on, and on he went.

The resulting conversation was that I would get the details for everyone, and see if we could piggyback on the retailer’s staff gifts. The students (and teacher and myself) agreed to bring in $5-10 each, and gifts for these kids would be bought. The students left the room … excited, passionate!

The teacher and I were pumped! And oh, how we hoped and prayed that one of the sons was into skateboarding!

Well, the store agreed to allow us to join in … and maybe even join in the delivery of the gifts.

I was wrong about the family …

It is a single father, but there are three kids:
a seven-year old boy (who loves baseball),
a nine year old girl (who loves things frilly),
and an eleven year old boy … who “loves skate shoes, skateboarder clothes, skateboarding …”

I believe it was all orchestrated by the hand of God …

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In recent weeks seismic activity of the west coast of North America has once again been in the news. And, every time this happens I think the same thing, ‘I really need to put together an emergency kit, in case THE BIG ONE hits.’

I’ve only been thinking about this since we moved here to the Pacific Coast … over sixteen years ago! It is just that, well, it is like buying life insurance … it is a good, wise and responsible thing to do, but acknowledging that it is something that I might just need is so very depressing.

I remember my first west coast earthquake. It was in the late 1990’s. It was early morning, hubby was preparing for work, our eldest was watching The Big Comfy Couch on TV, and our youngest was an infant in her bed. When the Earth started to shake I was … in the loo, and my first thoughts were not for the safety of our children, but “God, don’t let this be the Big One, I cannot have my body found here!” Ever since that early morning on the throne, I have been thinking an emergency preparedness kit is in order (I also spend much less time in the loo).

I also remember the first time I had to prepare a small kit for our daughter (and her siblings each year thereafter) for her school classroom. One of the things that needed to be added was a note … a note of encouragement … a ‘what if’ note. That was a most traumatic event as a mother!

So now, sixteen years after moving here, the iron has entered my soul, and I am determined to prepare for, what scientists believe to be, the inevitable.

I have started with purchasing tarps and garbage bags, and emptying the large container that will house our kit. I have also started to research what is recommended to put into such a container, how long to be prepared for, and other preparations that need to be made.

In my research I found an article from Parents Magazine, by Wendy Sue Swanson, M.D., called “Are You Prepared for an Emergency?” which is all about  Emergency Preparedness. It is probably the best article I have read, with both a list of necessary items to pack, details to organize, plus rational for those things.

Check out this article by Dr. Swanson, and re-think emergency preparedness for you and your family.

On the subject of earthquakes, I thought I would share a song that comes to mind whenever I hear of such events 😉

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As a parent who believes in prayer, praying for my kids has been a regular thing since even before they were conceived.

One of the realities of prayer is that it is really more about me, than the one who I am praying for, as I do agree with C.S. Lewis who said, “prayer changes me” in this clip from his Shadowlands story.

But this is not something that I was fully aware of when I was a young mom. In the early days of motherhood I prayed, anticipating that God would grant my every request. Much like Santa with my gift list at Christmas time, I think that I subconsciously believed that if I was obedient to Him (kind of the equivalent to “being a good little girl”) then God would reward me by meeting my every wish and desire that was expressed in my prayers to Him. I may have even believed that I deserved to have my prayers answered.

When my children were young I prayed that they would grow up healthy, would make wise choices, and that they would be opened to God’s leading in their future decisions, especially surrounding their choice of friends, career and their choice of future spouse. These are all good, and I am not saying that I do not wish those things for them, but that I now wish even more for them.

The reality is that character rarely is developed without the exposure to temptation, life is not fully appreciated without the threat of or reality of loss, some of the best choices in life are made on the heels of the stupidest mistakes in our lives, love is rarely long lasting without enduring the struggles, and dependence on God rarely comes without a season of questioning His ways.

Really, the best things in our lives have often been born out of disaster, death and despair. Failures, mistakes and heartbreaks have a way of opening our eyes to what really matters to us, they have a way of drawing us to cling to God like nothing else.

I don’t pray for disaster for our kids, but I also have lived long enough to know that the greatest growth in life can come from the greatest difficulties. I also have lived long enough to know that life is hard, mistakes get made and difficulties will come to everyone in time.

Now I pray that they might have strength, grace and courage when the rough stuff of life happens, and that they might grow closer to their Heavenly Father through it all.

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As I sat looking at the schedule for chapel at school, back in September, my eyes glanced Remembrance Day chapel, and the name of the teacher who is responsible each year for it. Immediately the name and face of man in our church came to mind.

This man is a veteran of World War II, during which he served as a fighter pilot, out of the airfields of Britain. He has seen, smelled and felt the glories and agonies of many battle successes as well as defeats, including being shot down resulting in the loss of three fingers, and in the loss of many fellow soldiers.

There have been sharing times at our church when he has bravely bared his heart through his memories of his time at war. His speaking is always well delivered, clear, authoritative and moving. He can draw a picture in the mind of the listener when he speaks. His stories contain real, vivid memories of specific battles, when only a small portion of his comrades returned afterward, stories of sorrow, stories of loss, stories that always end with a mention of wishing he had known then about the God who had His hand on his life, even though it he had not known him personally until more than sixty years later.

Well I spoke to this veteran, excited by my great idea to have him share his story with today’s youth. I just knew that he would be the man who would share in such a way that the listeners would not hear of the gore of video games and movies, but of the real experiences and emotions that war produces, as well as a sincere interjection of how faith, however late in life is found, is never too late.

The response from this man, this veteran, adequately sat me back on my behind. His response was sacrificial … he would agree to do it, but only because my hubby and I love him, and he loves us.

All of a sudden, I got it … I got the message that Remembrance Day should provide for all of us who have so little to remember. That message is that the stories that we hear, the remembering that we are exposed to, are not just ceremony with hymns, trumpets and marching, they are not just stories, like fairy tales from a book. They are the memories of men and women who have sacrificed for freedom. They are memories that communicate that the sacrifice is on-going. It did not end when the war was declared ended, it does not end until their inner war is finally declared finished, one that ushers them from this life and into the next.

The following Sunday I spoke with him, thanked him, and told him that our friendship was in no way a reason for him to have to re-live his memories. I told him our friendship would never ask such a sacrifice of him … that he had sacrificed enough already.

With tears in his eyes, he said he just didn’t think he could do it. And that is okay, because he has done enough already!

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