Christmas Strangely Simplified

Ahhh...what a nice Friday morning. I wake up in my snuggly bed after a great night of sleep following a lovely Thanksgiving. My husband is home and doesn't have to work today. I open my iPad and check my mail and eventually my Facebook page to see most of my friends have been up all night getting deals on presents.
There is talk of folks getting trampled and stabbed on their way to buy a TV or a toy. Now that stores open on Thanksgiving Day people actually say that they get less time with their family eating turkey, but the good news is they will be able to provide better presents on Christmas.

I don't get it.

I just don't, but again, this is where I'm weird.
I do understand that there is such a thing as the thrill of the hunt. After all, I've been a coupon queen for well over four years. I know all about saving a buck. I even understand the fun of a tradition of going to do something out of the ordinary with girlfriends or family members and shopping like crazy, though sleep has always won out for this girl.

Maybe I've never done it because in the past money was always tight in our house since birthday season directly precedes Black Friday.

This year, I find myself really delving in to the "why's" of the way our family celebrates Christmas. It's certainly not the first year we have broken tradition with the way we do things. It's certainly not the only way our family does things differently. But this year we have had some questions asked. People are trying to figure us out. Ha! Good luck!

Here's why. When the kids were little, we did "the thing". For the holidays we tried to run from one family celebration to the other. We spent money we didn't really have to make sure that everyone we loved got a gift. Santa came--boy, did he--and we had a blast enjoying that. I loved the look on my kids' faces Christmas morning as they viewed the mountain of presents more than any thing in the whole world. We spent money we didn't really have to make sure they had the Christmas I dreamed of.
As they got older, and frankly, Christmas got trickier due to family situations, some of the joy faded. Not only did their presents become pricier as we started shopping at Apple.com instead of Toys r Us, but it seemed that the previous Christmas and all the gifts that were so important that year had gotten lost somewhere in their memory and mattered much less than they cost. This is not to say my kids aren't grateful. They are the most grateful, thoughtful givers and receivers, but maybe "stuff" just doesn't stand out in their minds that much.

Also, our love of travel grew exponentially...
So...somewhere along the way, we ditched the whole thing, kit and caboodle, and celebrated Christmas elsewhere without gifts and without a ham. In fact, our Christmases have included seashells, and plane rides, and coastlines from California to Florida. We've gone from turkey to tacos and ham to Hibachi.

And somewhere in there we've slowed down the pace and found Christmas in a whole new way.

Lately, Addie has been asked at work about her family. It seems we are intriguing. They can't decide what category to put us in. They hear about our kids who stay out of trouble. They hear that we homeschool. They know we aren't actively involved in a specific church at the moment. They hear we don't do Christmas.
There's a lot of "weirdness" that we don't even publicize. Things that make us different. And, quite honestly, things people don't really want to know. I'm not trying to be mysterious, but our decisions isolate us enough already. I certainly don't need to spell them out further. As God allows, I'm sure things will come out as I continue to write.

We DO believe Christmas is worth celebrating. It's a beautiful holiday in its simplest meaning. Perhaps, like so many other things, it's gotten a bit out of hand. Maybe, just maybe, it's turned into a "thing we do" without even thinking about it. But, maybe I'm all wrong. I am constantly in a place of questioning. Or maybe just looking underneath things.

That is what happened to our family. We began to look deeper. And as He so often does, God showed us gently, one thing at a time, that just because everybody's doing something, it may not be the right thing for us.

I am NOT criticizing presents at Christmas. Just like I'm not here to criticize where anyone else sends their kids to school or anything else anyone does. In one way, I love presents at Christmas and wish I was giving and getting a whole bunch of them! I hesitate to share what we do because people tend to get defensive as if I'm saying our way is right and yours is wrong. It couldn't be farther from the truth.
Our journey is our journey and yours is yours, and I pray a lot that God will help me continue to mind my own business. I'm a huge fan of that concept.

I'm just sharing a bit of this path I've been on. It's meant to be reflective.

Just like this Christmas will be. Wherever my family finds itself this year--maybe it will be drinking egg nog and opening some great gifts with family. Maybe it will be at a Sonic eating Chili Cheese Tots in Kentucky. I really don't know.

What I do know is that there is more to the story. Just like with our family. We might present ourselves as pretty odd. Ask us anything. We are more than happy to share how we got here.
But I guarantee there is more to the story than how it appears.

This Christmas, consider looking deeper. Under the layers of wrapping paper, pretty lights, and carols, there's a really profound Truth. It's about a baby--but not just an ordinary baby. It was the birth of Grace. It was the beginning of freedom from the system that made every one else run around like chickens with their heads cut off looking for peace. He's right there waiting for you with open arms.

Once you know that Truth, it will set you free--PRICELESS!

Food for thought

Momma-isms Part Two

I knew this would happen. I knew I would post Momma-isms and then come up with more as time went on. I just say way too many things around here to sum them up as quickly as I did.
Now, if I wrote a post about the crappy things I said, you'd all quit reading, but since there are a few good things here and there, I'd rather draw your attention, and that of my family, to those. That way, it's written down for all to see and the crappy things I've said are deniable. :o)

Well, I do have to say, in my own defense, I don't think anyone who lives here would ever say that I insult or intentionally hurt someone's feelings. I believe much too strongly in the power of words. I might, however, be accused of nagging reminding people too often of things that need to get done or correcting suggesting better ways to do things.

So, back to the things I'd like for them to remember.

1. You're responsible for you.
That's it.

You don't need to fix anyone else,

worry about what they are up to,

or be concerned about their words.

At the end of the day, between you and God, all that you are responsible for is the way you behaved, treated others, and spoke. Despite what others said or did. No matter how much you think you're justified in noticing and/or commenting on their behavior.

You're only responsible for you.
Adults may need this reminder hourly. It would help us remember not to judge, wouldn't it? I also say that you never know what someone else is going through until you've walked in their shoes. I say that from experience after having been judged for decisions I made knowing people could never have understood the road I had traveled.
We base our judgments on how our view has been flavored by our own circumstance. Every single person is doing the same thing. No one sees this world through the same colored glasses.

And, we can't save anyone. This one is tough. We may think we have every answer, but in the end, no one needs our opinion unless they've asked for it. No one needs our answers unless they are ready to hear them. As far as saving goes, isn't God big enough to draw folks to Him without our interference? His job, and He's awesome at it, is to prepare hearts to be ready to hear what He has to say. Our job is to be available and listening for a chance to share our story. Not to have the answers and cram them down someone's throat. Most likely they will be thrown right back into our face.
And, that counts for our spouse (and don't we just know EVERYTHING they need to fix!), our children, and those out there who just don't have it all together the way we do (insert sarcasm here).

Love speaks much louder than opinion.
e
And, frankly, I have enough to do to keep track of myself and my own behavior. I don't even have time to worry about yours!
I'm just going to live out the love I've been shown and let that speak instead of feeling the need to go around sharing my opinion.
Except, of course, this blog which is entirely my opinion, but you choose whether or not you want to see it so that doesn't count.

2. I can't hear you when you whine.
Haha! That one is still funny to me. I can distinctly remember when my kids were going through that whiny stage that happens somewhere between the ages of four and seven. They would say something to me 497 times in that horrible voice that only a tired, cranky, somewhat desperate child that age has until I finally learned to say, "I can't hear you when you whine. When you decide to be calm and talk to me in a normal voice and ask me nicely, I will listen." Then, I set my jaw, bit my tongue almost off, and ignored them until they could take a deep breath and calm down and present me with something worth my time.
It really worked.
And, it makes me wonder how many times God may be saying, in a much better way than I ever could, "Alison, I just can't hear you when you whine. If you would change your tone and take a deep breath and remember Who I Am, I would love to listen to you. I love you and what you need matters to me, but the way your presenting it is wearing you, and quite frankly Me out."
Yes, I know all too well that I can't wear God out. Thank goodness, or He would have had enough of me a LONG time ago. It was for the sake of the point, and I just made it to myself.

3. Friendship starts here first.
Coming from a family in which no one got along--ever--it was my goal to live in a family in which loving each other was priority number two (right after loving God). I learned quickly in this new family we were creating, that a successful relationship needs time and attention and an awful lot of tenderness.

When priorities fall outside the lines of a family, the family relationships suffer. Period.

When my kids would fight and squabble, I would remind them that their sibling is their best friend for the rest of their life. If we can't succeed at that then we won't spend time on friendships outside until we figure it out. Sleep-overs and playdates got cancelled until we learned how to get along at home.

It still holds true, despite the fact that my kids are much more grown. The relationships they have built with each other still feel like a phenomenon to me every time I see how closely intertwined they are. It's a beautiful thing. They are-well, we all are-very closely knit in this home; and because we made that a priority, relationships have been forged that will stand strong.
I'm amazed at what God has made out of so little.

4. Greedy or grateful?
I thought of this yesterday as I felt sorry for myself about a certain situation in which things didn't exactly go my way. I may have thrown what we call in this house a "baby fit." Or, I may not have. I'll never tell the details, that's for sure. But, I did have a little talk with myself, and those words came to mind.
When my kids demanded that extra thing, and were very sure they should get their way, I would simply say, "Are you being greedy or grateful?"
That stings, doesn't it? We want what we want when we want it. We really aren't very accustomed to waiting, or heaven forbid, being told "No."
Let me just encourage you with this. Look around you. We are blessed. We don't go hungry. We are healthy and well-provided for. Complaining at all makes us sound greedy. And, I just wrote all of that for my very own self.

5. People will always let you down.
I know this sounds so negative, but it's really about expectations. Often, we put expectations on people that aren't fair to them and they are based on our own need. Then, we get upset because they didn't meet that expectation, and we hold it against them. I still do it--often. I think it might be human nature. But it really sets us up to fail, and to be let down.
No one could ever possibly live up to someone else's expectations.
We need to work hard enough just to be authentic; to love the way we love, to behave the way we behave and to let that be good enough. Ultimately, though that means we will let people down. There is really only One true constant in this world. Only One Who never changes and is always enough. It would be wise of us to remember that.

I have some amazing friends and extended family. I'm excited to hear some of your wisdom. Please comment here, and share some of your Momma-isms.

Baby, it's cold!

Winter began its journey to my neighborhood today.

I'm not a fan.

As I type, the frigid wind is howling outside my window. The temperature has dropped twenty degrees in just a few hours. Snow is predicted. Thousands of folks are without power tonight. We, Michiganders, are bracing ourselves for what is predicted to be one heck of an onslaught--for the next, oh, five ridiculous months or so.

Really, when it's January here, and we have carved our car out of some ridiculous ice-encrusted snowbank to drive through winds that blow the blinding snow into such a frenzy that we cannot see our hand in front of our face let alone use that hand to attempt to wipe the snot-cicle dangling from our nose so that we can fetch some variety of food that doesn't need to be cooked in case the ice has frozen the power lines--AGAIN--while we huddle together in the house with mittens and hats and oh-so-sexy thermal underwear under layers of blankets and ten pairs of socks...

...all we've really got is that high-five to the other surviving Michigander, and the ability to brag to each other about how gosh-darn hearty Michiganders are.



I'm so excited.
(Insert sarcasm here.)




I wanna be a baby snowbird, and fly away to warmer climes where vitamin D is given in a daily dose of sunshine, and people high five each other for outsmarting the system and escaping the ridiculous north. The place where you chuckle at the old guys in their stocking caps and scarves when the temp dips to a nippy 55 degrees.

I find myself feeling that way, too, lately when it comes to the kind of emotional struggle that whips my metaphorical hair back and forth (sorry for the badly used song lyric, but it makes sense as I write.) I sometimes just wanna run away--as if it's really possible to escape.

I was reading a fictional--yet accurate enough to also be somewhat nonfictional--account of the life of John Bunyan. No relation to the big guy with the ax and a big blue ox. Rather, the one who wrote Pilgrim's Progress. Fascinating story. One of those books that taught me more in story form than all of my years of history put together.
It also appealed to my sense of anti-establishment...ism (pretty sure that's a new word), as it dealt with the religion of the day and its polluted grasp on lives.
Before you hate, please read some of my other posts regarding the difference between religion and faith. Faith is what makes my heart beat. Religion isn't even for the birds.

Anyway, the woman in this story was wondering how so many things could go wrong in her life when she had dedicated herself fully to serving and living the very best life for God that she knew how. She kept claiming the verse about all things working together for good for her, yet stuff happened. The winds kept blowing her nice orderly world around like they probably are my garbage can at this very moment.
She was challenged by a friend who asked her if the only blessings in her life were the good things. Wait. What? Like, let's consider for one second that the bad things that have happened to us could be--BLESSINGS?
Well, this is how she explained it. She said, "Hardships are the Lord's greatest blessing to the believer. Without them we would love the Lord only for what He does for us. Our troubles teach us to love Him for Who He is."*

That's it--in a hard-to-look-at-nutshell. Troubles either turn us into blamers looking every which way to blame, and become bitter, and excuse bad behavior; or they bring us to our knees where we seek out our only true source of love.
Take our kids for instance. No matter how old or young they may be, if they get caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar, what's the first response? Blame. Excuses. Hiding from the ensuing trouble.
What if, instead of those options, our difficult, mouthy, teenager with every answer fell weeping and genuinely remorseful at our feet and pleaded with us to hold them and make it all better? Wouldn't we melt? Isn't that where they should be? Safe with the one who loves them unconditionally, and has the power to comfort and help heal their broken heart?

When my world got rocked, I fell down. And the only face I saw was the only One Who could hold me close enough to heal my heart. He's not some
"man upstairs" waiting to hand out consequences to His badly behaved children. He's not a genie in a bottle passing out blessings to the best little brown-nosers in the class.

He is the love of our lives--waiting for us to catch on to that.

That's what I learned. I wouldn't trade that for anything. No one, ever, in this whole wide world can take that from me. That love is right there waiting on the other side of all the blame and excuses.

It's like finding a tropical paradise, complete with a lazy river, in the middle of your living room on January 15th in Michigan. Priceless.

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture...
...None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.
Romans 8:31-40


Excerpt from The Preacher's Wife by Jody Hedlund
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

When I was little...

When I was little I thought a lot of things were true that turned out to be not so true. Some are funny, and some are a bit sad. It's interesting, though, to think back.

When I was very small, I thought that the Bible said somewhere "Thou shalt not kill any living thing." I was riddled with guilt over each bug I crunched or tree branch that I may have inadvertently broken. I remember vividly being in a heated debate with a VBS teacher over this fact--certain that I had read it in the Bible somewhere. I didn't, of course. Probably dreamed it.

During every dinner in the evenings, though our family sat around the table together, we were shushed throughout the entire meal because the news, most importantly the weather, was on. My dad worked outside 3rd shift so the weather report was vital to him. I listened to a lot of forecasts and I was pretty sure the "wind chill" was the "windshield."
You know, how cold the air was when it hit the windshield! Makes perfect sense to me!

I've mentioned before that I was my dad's little tag-a-long. He didn't talk to me much. Mostly, I chattered away hoping for a response, or at the very least that something at some point would be heard.
He did, however, get a big kick out of telling me tales which I believed hook, line, and sinker for more years than I care to admit.

Some of his stories:
Dragonflies will sew your mouth shut.
Stay away from those little suckers! They are just looking for a great set of lips!
My bellybutton was made into a knot by the doctor.
That's why it looks the way it does. Duh!
Battery acid! Watch out for that great amputator of limbs.
One little drop will cut your arm or leg right off.
Pileated woodpeckers--giant birds that lurk in the woods.. Ever seen one of them? According to dad, they were at least three feet tall. I was constantly roaming the woods alone. I was also waiting to see a terrifying, giant Woody Woodpecker at any given moment.

My mother told me different stories. Ones that scared me just as much until I grew enough to find out how very wrong she was. Hers were believed entirely by her and just enough by me to make me take some precautions. She believed that my relationship with God, and His love for me, was entirely contingent upon my behavior. She believed that if one sin was accidentally left unconfessed, and she was to die before fixing that she would go to hell.

Now, I know that my Jesus paid a once and for all price to cover me for always once I've accepted His beautiful gift of grace. Because I've accepted His gift, I, in turn, want to please Him with my life and choices.

When I was small though, that law-based thinking had me up for hours every night trying very hard to confess every single sin, reciting the Lord's Prayer, and because I had heard that I should be thankful for everything, I would fall asleep thanking God for the grass, the birds, the leaves, the moon, my friends, the sky, paper, blankets, the air...

I was pretty sure that picking my boogers was a pretty big sin. I made sure to confess that every day, too.

No wonder I was a scared little girl! Yup, pretty much Chicken Little.

At school and some of the churches I attended, I was taught that rock-n-roll music was of the devil. That the beat itself was pure evil. That even swaying to the beat was participating in the evil. Even so-called Christian music was questionable if it had too much of a drumbeat.

I was attending services where I watched deaf people healed and lame legs grow longer in front of my eyes, and also being told by others in authority in my life that healing is not relevant today. That God only did that in the Bible. I saw folks worshiping with their whole beings and heard them speak in other tongues at night, and by day I was told that didn't and shouldn't happen.

No wonder I was a confused little girl.

Now, I've seen the hand of God work miraculously more times than I can count. I've watched Him heal. I've spoken in other tongues. I've heard His voice. I've worshiped Him with all that I have.
I've traded rule-based thinking for freedom and grace. I've committed to honor Him in all that I do, and in return, I am free.
The rules and all the chains that come with them are just plain gone.
No, this does not mean that I can do whatever I please and still expect to fall under His covering over me. It means that He loves me and when I even start to grasp the depths of that love, I am changed. My motives, my intentions, my very heart desires something new.

Out go the "must-do's" and the "don't-you-dare-do's" and the needy, paranoid confessions. Out goes the rulebook and the need to appear holy. It's the difference between "religion" and "FAITH."

I've learned that religion is never attractive.
Love always is.


“Love is the overflow of joy in God. It is not duty for duty’s sake or right for right’s sake. It is not a resolute abandoning of one’s own good with a view solely to the good of the other person. It is first a deeply satisfying experience of the fullness of God’s grace, and then a doubly satisfying experience of sharing that grace with another person.”--John Piper

In our family, we've taught our children that they are loved beyond measure. That there is nothing that they could do that will EVER cause us to stop loving them. That they will mess up sometimes because they are human, but that if they bring it to us, though there will certainly be a consequence, we will handle it together.
In response to this love, they try very hard not to disappoint us. They love us fully in return and do their best to live in a way that honors who we are.

That is exactly what my relationship with my God is. If anyone looks at me, all I want them to see is a representation of the love I've known and been shown.

I am loved. I am safe. This is what I know now.

"God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us. This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we're free of worry on Judgment Day—our standing in the world is identical with Christ's. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love." 1 John 4:17,18


"Being loved this much should make a difference in your life today. Remember the One who loves you, and then be different because of it."--Author unknown


I am my Beloved's, and He is mine. His banner over me is love.--Song of Solomon




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad