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Merry Christmas Eve…

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We’ve arrived at my mum’s house for the Christmas holidays.  (And yes, that’s how I say it : M-U-M.)   At mum’s house it is snowy and cold on the outside,  but warm and cozy as ever inside.   I can’t think of any place I’d rather be…

Many years ago, Christ came to a cold dark world, born in a stable.  While He was here, His life was unsettled with no place to call home. His life’s work was spent in order to change that.  He longs to find a place in each of us – there is no place He’d rather be.

It is my prayer that my heart is that kind of place, where He feels welcomed in from the cold.

from O little Town of Bethlehem:

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may his His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born in us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel

Welcome, sweet Jesus.   Please make yourself at home – there’s plenty of room here.

 

 

 

a bit of history · in my kitchen

Christmas in the kitchen

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People have been asking me hard questions this holiday season that have made me think.  Not the least of which is a question that goes something like this:  Why in the world do you bake so much?   I never have an answer.  The words just won’t come that express how I feel.  So, I’ve had to do some soul-searching this year, back to a few of my Christmas memories.

Christmas in the kitchen during my childhood was a very special place for our family.  My mom would bake a lot of goodies, just as her mom had done years before.  We would spend time together mid the flour and sugar with our rolling pins and cookie cutters…  Some of my best and loveliest Christmas memories are centered on those times together in the kitchen.

How can I possibly create Christmas in my home, without spending time in my kitchen?  Its just not possible.

I don’t suppose my mom really knew back then that our time around the baked goods was such a treasured gift that I would want to give away in abundance someday.    But, isn’t that how giving works?  I mean, really and truly – when someone gives generously to me- I always want to give away more.

As I dwell a bit more on this season of giving, I’m able to answer another question that has been circling around in my heart and mind this season.  Why do I have such a desire to give gifts to my loved ones?  It is complicated to have such a desire when I also don’t want to be materialistic and focused on earthly things so much.  Well, I think I’ve caught a glimpse of the answer…

My Heavenly Father, gave the very best present when He sent His son.  It was wild and extravagant affection for us that made Him do it – setting into motion His ultimate plan to redeem each person who calls on His name.  Once I experienced His gift of love fully in my own heart, I became a giver too…  When I realized how much He loves me and gives the very best gifts to His children, I wanted to become that same kind of person.

And so, I give from the heart of my kitchen…  I love to bake for friends and family, not because they need to eat goodies.  No, I spend time and energy, love and affection, mid the flour and sugar just the way my mom did with us – and I give it to those who I want to show love.  And I am hopeful.  Hopeful that, as I set the example of giving love during this season, that those who receive my gift will feel it to the very tips of their toes and become givers too.

Isn’t’ that what this life is about – giving my life and my love away to others freely- just as Christ did?  Yes.  I believe that it is.    And that pretty much sums up the answer to the big question – I bake so much because the kitchen is where I can give away my love well.

May your Season of giving this Christmas be sweetened by the love of our precious Lord and Savior.

Merry Christmas.

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comfort and joy

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They go together, you know. comfort and joy. They do at our house this year, especially.  I want to tell you a little story, mostly because its pretty much all I’ve been able to think about.  It probably won’t be that big of a deal to you.  In fact, it is likely that you won’t find it too interesting.  And that is a bit unfortunate, since normally I  like for my blog to be interesting to more people than just me.

Still, I’m compelled.  This is the story of how I found a tiny bit of Comfort and Joy this advent season.

It all began several years ago when my husband came home during the Christmas season and told me about the Advent Conspiracy.  We knew we wanted to change how we viewed the birth of Christ.  But we didn’t know how.  We wanted to give meaningful gifts. And we wanted our gaze to focus on Him through all of the celebrating.

This part of my story is really uncomfortable, but it is unavoidable.  Its the presents.  I love giving presents.  I love getting presents.  But for the last few years it all has felt completely unreasonable. How much stuff does one family need?  And – why should I get so much, in the name of celebrating Jesus’ birthday?  Those were two questions that kept nagging at me, making me completely uncomfortable.  “That’s the way we’ve always done it.”  Was not a good enough answer anymore.

Deep down in my heart of hearts I knew something was missing.

This year as the planning began, the gift lists grew long, and I felt the desire to make a more concerted  effort to change the mode of gift giving.  I wanted to find a way to make things different.  And truly, this is complicated to explain, but ultimately it all happened one evening.

I was sitting on my living room couch in the peace, with very quiet Christmas music playing, the tree’s lights were lit and  I was reflecting on what I might need to put on a Christmas list – for grandparents who were hoping for ideas of what to give as gifts.  As I scrolled across different websites, page after page of unnecessary stuff, things that I knew would not bring true joy, my fingers sped me along to a website that changed my perspective.

Do you know what happened?  I realized something wasn’t missing from my Christmas lists.  Someone was missing.

What website had I come across?  Samaritan’s Purse.   There I found some items on Jesus’ Wish List.  As I read the items I wept.  I mean, what was I thinking?  How can I possibly think I need new stuff for my kitchen, when feeding starving children is one of the items on His list?  There’s a family hoping for warm blankets on His list, while I’m debating if I’d like a new duvet cover…

I tried to wrap my brain around what I was seeing.  And I realized this: all this time, through all these Christmases past, I believed I should give to others with joy, because He brought us joy when He came to earth as a baby.  He gave a big gift, so we should do the same.  And in one way that is partly true.  But, it seems that my heart will find true joy when I give the biggest gifts to Him.

So, we made the lists, and we checked them twice. I wanted to be sure that we were giving to Jesus first and foremost.  Christmas is His birthday and I wanted to figure out how to give Him the best gifts.   I left the Samaritan’s Purse website and went over to Compassion International.

I thought I knew what needed to be done, but I was completely unprepared.

Slowly I perused the lists that were there.  Name upon name, face after face ; children needing families to care for them, hoping for someone to choose them to be sponsored.   I closed my laptop and let the tears flow. and how they flowed.   So many little ones living in desperate need.

“Whatever you do to the least of these, you do unto me…”

Jesus asks in Scripture clearly for us to care for the fatherless, the widows – to feed the hungry and clothe the poor.  This is what is on His list.  When I choose to give to them, I’m giving to Him.

I felt it happening.  His list was becoming my list.

I opened my laptop again and began to search the names and faces.  And there she was, just the second page back on the list.  Her big dark eyes looked back at me.  She lives in Ghana – and she had been waiting for a sponsor for quite some time.  As I read her name, my heart leapt with joy and new she was the one.

This year the biggest gift under our tree is for Jesus, and her name is Comfort.  And now, Comfort is loved by the Day family.  These are true gifts of Christmas joy – and I can’t tell you how remarkable it all is.   My heart is so full, I can hardly stand it.  It is exactly what has been missing from our Christmases past.

Comfort.  and Joy.

Heavenly Father, Help me to find new and fresh ways to celebrate Jesus’ birthday this Christmas.   May I find this joy and comfort You have given, the most satisfying gifts of all.  amen

friends and loved ones

Home for the Holidays…

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If you were my neighbor, tomorrow morning at 3 am you would see my family pulling out of our garage.  Yes, that’s right, we would be heading out of town for Grand Rapids, Michigan.  We will be spending the Christmas holiday with my parents.

It’s a thirteen or fourteen hour drive to Grand Rapids from here.  When I tell people about the planned expedition for my little family, some folks look at me like I’m absolutely nuts.  I do realize that most people like to be in their own home for Christmas morning.  But I consider myself a Christmas Vagabond.  Let me explain.

Growing up most families have Christmas traditions.  For us, our family had a consistent tradition.  We traveled.  We left our home, wherever it was, and went to be with family for the holiday.  I have very few memories of Christmas morning at home because we weren’t at home.

Now, before you begin to decorate for the pity party I should tell you I do not feel bad about this at all.  In fact I embraced it.  The anticipation of loading up the car and heading out was unbelievable.  And it only increased as we got closer to the destination.  Yes –  even as a child I loved to travel at the holidays .

I remember one particular Christmas we made the trek from London Ontario all the way to Ottumwa Iowa for Christmas Day.  In case you aren’t well traveled in the Midwestern part of the continent, it is a long way from London to Ottumwa.  We drove the first leg of our trip and stayed over night in a hotel on Christmas Eve.  For some people this would be unbearable, horrible, rotten; it would be almost as bad as the Hoo’s Christmas in Hooville when the Grinch stole their Christmas.  But we didn’t feel that way.  We hung our stockings from the shower curtain rod.  It was quite an adventure.  My sister and I remember it even to this day.

There is an important piece of information.  We never lived near family – except for about five years from when I was 6 until I was almost 12.  And even then, my mom’s family was in Canada – and my dad’s extended family was still in the states – in Iowa.  We moved a lot when I was a child, so I wasn’t truly attached to whatever house we were living in at the time.  It made it very easy to pack up for Christmas and head out.

At this point, I now live with my husband and children in a town that is pretty far away from most of my relatives.  When I head out to spend time in Grand Rapids – the place itself has little or no significance except it is where my parents live.   I don’t have special memories of the place from my childhood.  But I love to go.

As an adult I now understand something very important.  Home for me has nothing to do with a place.  Home has everything to do with people.  On the holidays I long to feel the warmth, not from my own bed, or from the glow in my fireplace.  No, I long to feel the warmth of love from friends and family.  I look forward to feeling its embrace like a snuggly blanket .

Twenty four hours from now, we’ll be pretty close to our destination, far, far away from our house.  And still, I’ll be home for the holidays!

And now, I’d better finish up packing – its 12 hours until our departure!

Merry Christmas!

md

(written December 17, 2009)

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unusual suspects

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Tires.  That’s what my husband told me we were getting for Christmas.  Recently we made the decision that while visiting my parents in Michigan over the holidays we would go across the border to visit my grandparents near London, Ontario.  That choice also meant we needed new tires on the Honda.

Well, merry christmas to us.

So, last Saturday we loaded up the van and headed over the river and thru the woods, over the mountain and down into the Sequatchie Valley to Dunlap, TN.  Oh yes.  The booming metropolis of Dunlap.  for tires.  yep.

We decided to make our purchase there because Michael’s coworker had given us the low-down about this place, and the good deals. He sang their praises, of great prices and quality tires, with excellent service.  Of course it was impossible to pass up the opportunity, so that was where we had to go.

When we arrived, I saw the truth of the matter, for my own eyes.  As we pulled around back, into the alley behind the old hardware store, I began to feel skeptical.  Old tires and new tires piled everywhere.  Expensive luxury cars, and old beaters were waiting in line together.  It all seemed highly suspect.  And I couldn’t help but ask myself:

Is this really it?  Is this my Christmas?  Surely this can’t be the place…

sigh…

And as we sat there in the alley, literally jacked up, waiting our turn for the blessed new tires, I couldn’t help but wonder.

Is this how the Shepherds felt?

I mean, after all, there they were in the fields with their sheep, completely caught off guard by the news.  The angels declared, “He’s here! He’s here!  The prince of peace has arrived!  Follow the star and go to Him!”  And as they head out on the journey, still in a bit of a fog after all the excitement, they’re  just about to leave the pasture when the angel says, “Oh, and by the way, He’s in a barn, in a manger…”

say what?

Now, if I had been a shepherd, I think that last bit of information would have caused me to pause for just a moment…  “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”  I’m sure as we worked our way toward the star I would have been trying to convince my fellow travelers, “Doesn’t it look like we’re headed toward the governor’s palace?” or, “Really, that star seems to be shining right over top of the Ritz-Carlton,”  “Surely He’s not actually in a barn…”

“And they came with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the baby lying in the manger…”

This just can’t be my Christmas… can it?

The King of Kings didn’t come to earth the way I would have expected.  I can’t speak for the shepherds, but it certainly seems to me as though the Prince of Peace did not arrive in  appropriate royal fashion.  No, He came in the most weak and poor, unassuming way, without pomp and circumstance.  It was unlikely.  unusual.  unsuspecting.

But He came just the way He planned.  He made himself of no reputation.  Humbly He began preparing to be The Savior.  With this lowly beginning, He gave his life, so that all could have life.  All of us.

Just think -one of the most unusual gifts of all time, across the ages has become the most valuable… God himself, here, dwelling with us.  Back then, who would have suspected how it would turn out?  Not me.  certainly not me.

Here’s a bit of the story to think over again. and again.  So surreal…  yet wonderfully, absolutely gloriously true!

15 So it was, when the angels had gone away from them into heaven, that the shepherds said to one another, “Let us now go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 And they came with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the Babe lying in a manger. 17 Now when they had seen Him, they made widely known the saying which was told them concerning this Child. 18 And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds. 19 But Mary kept all these things and pondered themin her heart. 20 Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told them.

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the advent football

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There was a football in the middle of our advent study today.  You don’t have one in your Scripture passage?  Well, we had one in ours.

I’ve been attempting to stay on course and begin our day with reading our passage and thinking about Christ coming to earth.  We’re doing well so far – and I can say this truthfully because it is only day two.  In my mind its a beautiful plan, because I am free to romanticize everything there.

In reality it is complicated to pull off ; mostly because my children and I are humans with, I’ll just say it, sin natures.  We needed Jesus to come to earth.

Back to the football.

My son and daughter were trying to finish their breakfast, so that we could get on to our Advent plans.  They were pushing each others’ buttons and fighting over something.  But, I couldn’t figure out what…

As I cleared the breakfast table, the squabbling continued.  I could hear them wrestling in the living room, which is  unusual for them.  Well, I had it.  “EVERYONE IN THE DINING ROOM- IN YOUR CHAIRS – AT THE TABLE.  NOW!”   My patience had gone missing right about then and I was begging the Lord to help me find it.  I drew a deep breath.

My sweet, but disobedient children – were not at the table.  I corralled them into the dining room – and I began to read the story…  The reading from the Advent passage “For unto us a child is born.  Unto us a Son is given…”  And Isaac burst into tears… “She won’t give me my football” – I attempted to assure him that everything would be okay, patted his head and kept reading.

“SHE WON’T GIVE ME MY FOOTBALL!”  he wailed.  I stared at him.  And then at Emily.

Here is the short version of a very long and confusing saga – she had taken his little football change purse and wouldn’t return it, because he had taken her money and put it in his football change purse.

greed.  stealing.  anger.  It is all a part of the Advent story, right?

Once we made everything right, returned the purse to its rightful owner, apologies made, smiles on faces – I was able to continue with some of our Scripture reading.

“The people walking in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a light has dawned.”

Without the good news foretold in Isaiah – “a light has dawned,”  we, here at the Day household would be stumbling around in the shadows : an impatient mother, with children fighting over a tiny football change purse – living a life of selfishness and sin.  See – there was a football, front and center in our Advent story…

But there is one who came.  Isaiah told of His coming prophetically in chapter 9…

“For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the greatness of his government and peace
there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it
with justice and righteousness
from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the LORD Almighty
will accomplish this.”

Because of His coming, we can live with the hope of righteousness, paid for by a risen Savior.   Amen and Hallelujah!

I can’t wait to see what we find in our Advent readings tomorrow!

md

(originally written December 2, 2010)

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Rules to live by…

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A month or two ago I found Emily at the kitchen table, working on something.  She was preparing to use a piece of paper and marker.  I asked her what she was up to and she said, “I’m going to put a few important rules on paper that I don’t want to forget,”  and these were the two rules she wrote down:

1. Be polite.

2.  Keep your shoes tied.

Hmmmm… you have to admit, those are pretty important…

She and I got to talking after this, you know about learning life skills and I reminded her of something we had been learning.  It was a Scripture verse, that was also helpful.  It goes like this:

“Be devoted to one another in love.  Honor one another above yourselves.” (Romans 10:12)

She agreed it should make the list.

Aside from the most important commandment in Scripture to Love the Lord your God, I can’t think of any other instructions that is given more often.  Love one another.  And this year, it has become our home school mantra.  I mean, how else can we survive being together day in and day out with out these words:  “Be devoted”   It is the answer to every relationship dilemma.

He won’t share with me! …  be devoted.

She’s not being fair…  be devoted.

I don’t want him to do that… be devoted.

Make him stop touching me!…. be devoted.

And the list goes on and on.

What’s interesting is, I wasn’t prepared for how much I needed to learn the lesson I’ve been teaching my children.   I mean, in my head I know the information.  I am supposed to love others.  However, living it is a totally different issue.   The very words I found myself saying regularly to my children when they weren’t getting along, I now heard echoing in my own ears.

Plans are changing because my husband has to work late and I’m feeling less than happy about it…  be devoted.

My children need something, but there is something I’d rather do for myself… be devoted.

A friend needs help, and it isn’t very convenient... be devoted.

Be devoted : It is one of the most important rules He gave, and yet it happens to be difficult to accomplish.  The only way for me to live it  is to understand  that I can love others because He has loved me.

These are the words that He said, just before He left the earth:

33 Little children, I shall be with you a little while longer. You will seek Me; and as I said to the Jews, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come,’ so now I say to you. 34 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. 35 By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (from John 13)

Simply put:  He loved us with His whole life, and experiencing just how much he loves me allows me to love others unselfishly.  Wow! It isn’t easy.   I am human and want to put my own desires first.  That’s just how I am.  But Jesus asks for something so different.  And, I do believe it is the best way to live.  It almost tops the list, right below loving God with my whole heart and just above being polite and keeping your shoes tied.

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hand made gifts

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Is there anything better than a hand-made gift made by the hands of someone who loves you?  No, I think not.

There are presents made with love in my history that I remember far and above other gifts.  A dress, sewn by my grandmother.  A creche made by daughter’s five year old hands.  A quilt made by my Great grandmother.  All fill my heart with joy when I recall opening them, using them, enjoying such a gift of love.

I made Christmas sugar cookies for my children’s choir this week.  Because I love them – and they have been working hard.  So, I gently rolled out the dough and cut Christmas tree shapes.  Then, I baked them, let them cool and decorated them, carefully  with a steady hand.  It was work, but I did it on purpose.  I wanted my little singers to have something special.

At this time of year, I’m reminded of the ultimate gift.  God, our Heavenly Father, sent His only Son to earth.  By His own handiwork, He made Jesus into flesh and blood – Emmanuel, Incarnate – here to dwell with us.  It was such a personal gift of love.  Just when I think I’ve got my mind wrapped around it, I realize I don’t really comprehend it.

Over the past couple of days I’ve read Luke chapter 1&2 again and again.  I’d paste the passage in here, but that would make this post incredibly long.   While I’m waiting for the story to sink in I’ve been wondering:  Could I ever give away that much of myself?  of my time and my heart?   I don’t know, but I’d like to try.  I’ve been asking the Heavenly Father to show me how to give more, and give better.

Heavenly Father, Thank you for the gift of your Son – what an incredible, radical gift of love! Because of this gift, I am filled with wonder at the knowledge of your love for me.  Help me to give myself away more freely because of this love I’ve come to know.  Your love towards me is limitless – let me find the strength to give beyond my own limits.  amen.

*******************************************

This is one of the songs my children’s choir is learning right now and my heart swells when I hear it.  Praise God for the hallowed manger ground!

Emmanuel

What hope we hold this starlit night

A King is born in Bethlehem

Our journey long, we seek the light

That leads to the hallowed manger ground

What fear we felt in the silent age

Four-hundred years can He be found

But broken by a baby’s cry

Rejoice in the hallowed manger ground

Emmanuel, Emmanuel

God incarnate, here to dwell

Emmanuel, Emmanuel

Praise His name Emmanuel

The son of God, here born to bleed

A crown of thorns would pierce His brow

And we beheld this offering

Exalted now the King of kings

Praise God for the hallowed manger ground!

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o holy night

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I played for a Christmas concert at our church on Sunday evening.  The program was filled with many beautiful carols and Christmas songs and I was privileged to accompany a portion of it.  All was going along quite normally, nothing out of the ordinary or unusual.

Well, it was ordinary right up until my friend Gretchen sang these words in her rich soprano voice:

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming, with glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.

So led by light of this star sweetly gleaming, here came the wise men from orient land.

The king of Kings lay thus in lowly manger; in all our trials born to be our friend.  

He knows our need.  Our weakness is no stranger.  Behold your King!  before Him lowly bend…  

And right there, mid Christmas carol, I was literally bent low by the power of this King. When the song ended, it was physically difficult to get up from the piano bench…

For those of us prepared to take the Christmas story seriously, it is undeniable just how powerful this baby and His story is.  It is just now, this year that I have come to realize it is so much more than I’ve heard before.  We’re not talking about a pleasant little fable where there was a baby born, by some unfortunate circumstance in a stable with the barn animals. The King of Kings, made Himself flesh and blood, in the lowliest of places. On purpose.  He came, prepared to be a part of our earthly filth and brokeness.  Not one need goes unnoticed,  each weakness is understood.  And even though He is the most powerful person to ever set foot on this earth, He stoops low to be my friend.

This information is mind numbing.  breath taking.  surreal.  It is almost more than I can comprehend.

Sunday night was a new beginning.  As I sat in that pew I understood in a completely new way that the very same power that came into our world so long ago, is still here today.  It is fresh, working in the hearts of all who will hear.  Believe me, I know.  I felt it, weak-kneed – as I tried to get up from the piano bench.  I can’t bring His story to mind without sensing it in my heart.  He is still holy and powerful today.    God came then, and He still comes now.  He finds me mid the daily grind, or on a path of pain,  and He surrounds my very being with mercy and power.  When I recognize His presence, I find He is able to make each moment sacred.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for revealing Yourself to me a little bit and then a little bit more.  May I revel in the wonder of that Holy Night that was the beginning of your redemption plan.  I am grateful for your Holy presence in my heart and life… may I never forget what a gift it truly is! amen.

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kisses

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I have a baby girl, you know.  Her name is Mackenzie and she is the feistiest of little girls.  Many opinions and ideas.  Crazy ideas.  And a lot of activity.  dancing, galloping (she does not run, only gallops up and down our hallway) chattering;  and she bosses everyone around who is within ear shot… That’s my girl.

About a year ago I began demonstrating how to give kisses.  She would barely manage to sit still and snuggle, let alone get her face close enough to mine so I could touch my lips to her soft little baby cheeks.  But I would sneak one every once and a while, and she would acquiesce.  sometimes.

But a mother needs to kiss her baby girl.

We practiced.  See Mackenzie, this is how you give a kiss…  and I would plant one – muwah!  and she would giggle.  and when I would say, Now give Mommy kisses, my sweet girl would just giggle even more and turn her cheek to my lips for another. Quickly it became a bit of a game.  I think she was always the winner, getting lots of kisses.

But a mother needs kisses from her baby girl…

Yesterday was a miracle day.  I picked her up, happened to go through our routine, and I said, like this Kenzie, and upon demonstrating she responded in kind!  I was stunned, to feel her kiss on my face!  And the joy that turned round and round like a whirl wind in my heart!  goodness!

Its just in time you know…  it won’t be long and my baby will be grown, no more soft little cheeks to caress…

Long ago, our Heavenly Father loved us so much that He kissed the earth with His presence in the form of His Son. A tiny baby in a manger,  He demonstrated His love with this unprecedented gift.  And while He does not force our love, He sure does hope for it.   I feel sure that the kisses we send Him do not go unnoticed.

from 1John 4:

9 In this the love of God was manifested toward us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him. 10 In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

Heavenly Father, Thank you for this precious gift of your Son, for the forgiveness of sins and life everlasting.  Help me to know how to love you better in return.  Instead of being stingy with my kisses, I want to respond generously and whole heartedly with my life.  Let me find ways to do it in the here and now – I don’t want to miss the opportunities, because the time is short! amen.