Hope in the midst of pain...

Hearts all over the country are hurting. Specifically hearts out east, as the rest of the country sympathizes.
It's unthinkable. There is no easy answer.

The same day those babies and teachers were killed, my boys were first on the scene of a fatal accident in which another baby girl met Jesus along with her mom. Leaving behind an injured twin sister, an older sister and a broken-hearted daddy.

My guys saw things that forever changed them and broke their hearts.
They were there to bring the Spirit of God into a place of chaos and pain.
Our hearts are so very heavy.

Our human minds try to reason it all out. We try to blame and come up with plans to prevent future pain. We all try to stand together against the evil that causes such sorrow.

No words, no laws, no president, no unified country can change this world we live in. It's been fallen and broken for much longer than we can imagine. Humans broke God's heart almost at the start, and it continues.

We, at least, can opt out of viewing other folks' pain. His heart surely continues to break as He holds each parent's hand all the way through--if they let Him.

What kind of God would allow this? Surely, that's what folks will ask.
This is not His doing. There is evil at play. This world is full of darkness and suffering.
There is only One Light.

As a little girl, I sang a song that said, "He never said there'd only be sunshine. He never said there'd be no rain. He only promised a heart full of singing, at the very thing that once brought pain."

As long as we live here, there's going to be pain. To expect less sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Do we expect that if there really is a God we'd live in utopia? Who deserves the kind of pain we see around us or maybe feel? In our human minds, no one does.

But if we didn't hurt or cry out in pain, we'd never know the need for the Giver of Peace! If we didn't know the absence of joy, we never give credit to the Joy-Giver!

Into the darkness, a Savior was born. It was in the dark of night, when He was most needed.
Hope is here. In the darkest night, Hope was born.

You can argue theology with me all day and I might lose, but what you can never take from me is that in my darkest midnight, I was never alone. No one can ever take from me the memory I have of peace that washed over me like a warm, sweet blanket in a moment of sheer panic.  No one can ever convince me that the times when the presence of God was more real to me than any human has ever been did not happen.
And there is NOTHING in this world that means more to me than that. I cannot imagine a day without the peace I have. I could not exist without the hope I found. In the midst of pain, I can see beyond this moment to a plan bigger than mine.



I will sing of it forever.



Dear Jesus,

It's a good thing you were born at night. This world sure seems dark. I have a good eye for silver linings. But they seem dimmer lately.

These killings, Lord. These children, Lord. Innocence violated. Raw evil demonstrated.

The whole world seems on edge. Trigger-happy. Ticked off. We hear threats of chemical weapons and nuclear bombs. Are we one button-push away from annihilation?

Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were nightshift workers. The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was dark. Dark with Herod's jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark with poverty. Dark with violence.

Herod went on a rampage, killing babies. Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt. You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene.

Follow us

Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day. Won't you enter ours? We are weary of bloodshed. We, like the wise men, are looking for a star. We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger.

This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us.

Hopefully,

Your Children
(Max Lucado)

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I'll be home for Christmas...

I'm reflecting on Christmas....

Well, how could I not at this point when its existence is blared at air horn like decibels from every angle.

In a way, I can appreciate the music and lights and the glare of it all because it forces me into the Christmas mood, but under all the tinsel and wrappings I've been seeing some things.

This is our first traditional Christmas in several years.  By several, I mean that I can't think of the last time.  By traditional, I mean we will be in our home on Christmas morning, and there will be some presents.

No matter what, we always put up much too big of a tree to fit in any house.  Our eyes our bigger than our tree stand, if you will.  It makes for a spectacular entrance into our home, but then there's that part where you practically have to turn sideways to squeeze past it into the living area.  

We always go choose it as a family and then put it up and decorate the house on Thanksgiving weekend to the same Christmas songs (I always cry at the right part of the right song), we drink egg nog and have creamy turkey soup.

And then, a few weeks later, with no presents under the tree, we undress it, clean it all up and get the heck out of dodge feeling like escapees.  We skip all the get-togethers and do what we love most--ROAD TRIP!!  We find restaurants of other cultures that are open on holidays and feast.  No breakfast casseroles for this group! And then we say "Merry Christmas" to each other as we open the door to some great lookin' deal with a view in some warm climate.  Ahhhhh....I love Christmas Kirksey-style.

Not this year.  This year, with two newlywed, working children to consider and for a couple other reasons, we are going to do the thing.  Sigh.

At least once a day, I put aside the visions of ocean waves dancing in my head and instead look at amazon.com.  

And, I must admit I'm kinda excited.  We're keeping it simple--the budget is small on purpose.  There's no need to be ridiculous, but I'm enjoying some of the suspense of choosing things for my favorite people and wrapping things and putting them under the tree to make them guess--that's so weird!  And we won't be having things too traditional.  For instance, we won't be using any silverware to eat our meal on the big day...;o)

But there's a thing I'm observing everywhere I look and listen.

Christmas baggage.

The ghosts of Christmas past, if you will.

Folks aren't always as merry as all of this hype would lead one to believe.  Yes, this holiday is magical if you're ten or under, but at some point the glitter rubs off a bit.

I'm not convinced that everyone's buying what we're being sold.

The whole spending money thing seems to wedge its way in between husbands and wives.  Moms are trying to keep the magic alive (no matter how old their babies) and dads seem to be trying to reign the magic in so they can actually afford January.  Raise your hand if you can relate.
Yup.  That's what I thought.

And a lot of this is about how we were raised!  Newly married couples have to compromise on what colored tree lights we will have (despite what their family did!) and how much decorating will matter.  

Plus, there's the letting go of memories for some of us.  My dad hated Christmas.  He started feeling depressed the minute the Christmas carols started playing and gritted his teeth through all of it.  We did the thing, but he never shared why it made him so sad and in turn kinda sucked the joy for the rest of us.

People are hurting. And I can't help but feel like all of this rubs their noses in it a bit.  Maybe I realized this after Justin's accident last week.  I very quickly understood how different this Christmas could have been.  And will be for many, many people.

We celebrate the gift of our Savior. That is where all of this started whether we can see through all the fluff and stuff or not.  It's supposed to be a worldwide birthday party.  Or at least a time for a big heart reflection on the birth of God as a baby in a food trough just because He needed a way to say "I love you" that would resound for all time.  

If it was me, I might be a little saddened by all the silliness it's become.

So, what is it to you?  

Is it about tradition? Is it about family? Is it about a baby? Is it a struggle?

Obviously, I'm still wrestling with it.  But, I'll be here passing out presents and singing a little carol or two on the big morning.  And, of course, I will still roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of a lot of it and buck the system as much as I can.

My heart already knows what matters, and trust me, I will be spending some time thanking my God for His creativity and sacrifice.  And I will revel in loving the ones that I am so very blessed to love.  And, I'll pray that God opens my eyes to those who are hurting and be His hands however He lets me...