An Offering

  Lent. A time of reflection. Waiting upon God. Practicing the gift of sacrificial love which knows no bounds. I view Lent as a communal grace offering to the One who has no need of gifts yet bids us come with all that we are and all that we have. This year more than ever I come seeking renewal. I have become all too aware that my vision of life and faith are so easily corrupted by the flawed level of consciousness I bring to each and every day. I humbly seek and desire the very mind of Christ.

   These are a few of my Lenten gifts I seek to lay at His feet:
          The gift of a letter. To write a note of acknowledgement to someone whom I have witnessed extending a particular kindness or gentleness when none was required.
          The gift of friendship. To reach out to embrace and encourage someone to whom I am not easily drawn. I have been the recipient of much in the way of friendship and love. How can I continue to remain within my own selfishly comfortable boundaries, to withhold myself when Christ calls me to pour myself out on His behalf?
          To surrender my secretly superior attitude whereby I judge and condemn the actions of others. May I renounce, confess, and let go of this secret sin and the others that so readily grow alongside it.
          To allow the wounds and suffering of others to pierce my heart. I find it easy to grow callused and hard-hearted, particularly when confronted with suffering on a global scale. I earnestly desire to be faithful in prayer for those whom the Lord would put on my heart.
          To seek out the way of unexpected service, however small or seemingly insignificant it might be. I would do well to remember that a cup of cold water offered in the name of Jesus can be a precious and life-giving gift.
          To daily seek Him and to offer up to Him the praise of my lips. To turn my conscious thoughts toward Him and to meditate upon His word, then to joyfully come into His presence with songs of thanksgiving.
          To laugh more with those I love. 
          To find joy in the ordinary and happiness in the simple.
          To desire less.
          To need less. 
          To buy less.
          To give away more.
          And then to give even more.
          To practice kindness to those who have wounded me.
          To seek to forgive quickly.
          To be willing to readily forgive everything from the slightest hurt to the gravest offense. 
          To let go of old wounds and to seek the grace of healing that only He can bring.
          To speak freedom.
          To renounce all lies and to fall in love with the truth.
          To be willing to speak the truth even when it is not easy or easily understood.
          To risk reputation for the way of Christ.
          To love the unlovely. 
          To listen more and to speak less.
          To quit interrupting.
          To value another's story more than my own.
          To be willing to walk to the end of the road with someone. With anyone.
          To be a better listener.
          To be a giver of joy.
          To rest in His presence.
          To celebrate His beauty I see in others.
          To celebrate His beauty in my surroundings.
          To greet each new day with anticipation.
          To end each day with heartfelt gratitude and prayer.
          To share the story of all that He has done for me, in me, and with me.
          To embrace the reality of Easter in a deeper way.

       

Searching for Easter

   I go looking for Easter in Walgreen's. Even though one might be fooled, it is not there among the Peeps, the plastic baskets, and the fake green grass.

   I wander down the aisles of the Hallmark store replete with their perfectly aligned cards and matching envelopes. Scattered everywhere throughout the shop are pink, blue and yellow bunnies nestled alongside hand-painted eggs. This is not my Easter either.

   I join the throngs in the grocery store, filling my cart with treasures for a meal that I will serve to cousins and sisters and husband and children at Sunday lunch. The cash register goes ching, ching, ching, and I am out of there with a laden car and a tired back. This, too, is not my Easter.

   Once home, I set the table, arrange flowers, and slice mountains of squash and onions, grease casserole dishes, tear lettuces, and chop herbs. I am working ahead. It is special, this beauty I seek to create, but it is not Easter.

   I walk outside to bask in the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine. The silver maples are showering their helicopter seeds all over me. I wink at the sky and smile. But Easter? No, this is a compelling beauty from a Divine hand, but it is not Easter.

   I climb back into my Bible, suddenly thirsty for the Holy cup and the bread. I want to linger there at the meal shared with My Beloved, but I am called onward toward a hill outside the city of Jerusalem. It is here that I find a story played out that shakes my soul to the core. It is a tale, oft told, of a suffering and a sacrifice so wretched and so raw that it is at once almost unbearable and unbelievable. I am suddenly there. I smell the blood. I see the heavy splintered form of the cross and the broken God-man upon it. I look into the faces of the betrayers and know that their shame and their guilt mirrors my own. I know what I deserve. But the God-man hanging there will have the final word. "Forgive them," he cries as he shudders and gasps for air. Then He cries out to the Father.

   In a little while, the sky grows dark. The earth shakes. The bolts of lightening accelerate as they penetrate the darkness with a terrible light. I quake inside as I turn back to the cross. It is finished. The God-man breathes no more.

    I want to run from the scene. I am a betrayer and a rebel of the first-order. I don't even have to wait until the cock crows. I know my own heart. I feel the crushing weight of my own sin and my paralyzing grief. And yet. And yet.

    I limp through the days bereft. The morning of the third day dawns bright and beautiful. The women have been busy with their preparations. Their faces are worn with grief and exhaustion but they are filled with a sense of mission and purpose. They have come to anoint the body of the Beloved One. I have tagged along.

   One of the women runs ahead, spurred and driven by a need deep within her. Yet something is amiss. The guards have disappeared, and the giant stone is no longer blocking the darkened entrance to the cave-like tomb. A deep and powerful voice pierces the quiet surrounding the tomb. It is coming from an unusual creature standing vigil by the tomb, "Why is it that you seek the living among the dead?" The air seems to quiver at the sound of his words.

  The angel looks with something akin to incredulity at the mounting disbelief in the face of the stumbling weeping woman. Like her, my human mind struggles to apprehend the words and all that they imply.

   She runs to look inside. Her voice trembles as she announces that the tomb is empty. My vision grows blurry. How can it be? THE TOMB IS EMPTY. I fall to my knees, and something inside me begins to take on a life of its own.

   What is this glorious hope, this unspeakable joy rising up within me? Can the terrible suffering of the God-man on the cross find its completion and its consummation in an vacant tomb with its empty ledge and neatly folded linen?

   Yes, yes, my soul cries. Yes. This, this is my Easter. It is an empty tomb. It is here in the dust of the dimly lit cave that I have come to find life. And hope. And victory over an ancient sin and despair that have held my soul in their clutch. This tomb, this place of burial where the body of the Messiah was laid to rest is the Easter I have sought. And it is not just mine. It is for all who dare to believe.
    My heart leaps within me at the truth and the glory of it all.

Christ the Lord is Risen. 

Indeed, He is Risen! 

Let the earth and the heavens rejoice...

Christmas Treasures

   The best gifts of Christmas are those you treasure in your heart. It's the moment when a child comes into a room with wide eyes and the biggest grin you have ever seen as she spies the gifts awaiting her under the tree. It's the unexpected bear hug from a tall son who also stoops to whisper, "I love you, Momma," into your listening ear. It's the quiet hubbub of little voices rising and the mothers' gently shushing them as Pappy reads aloud the timeless Christmas Story from Luke 2. It's the laughter around the dinner table. It's the grandchildren peering through the staircase spindles where once your own children pressed their faces in nearly the same way.  It's a granddaddy who rescues a squalling baby and whisks him away to a quiet room where it's just the two of them sharing a moment of precious peace.
   I count myself as one blessed woman. No Christmas is ever perfect, because we are an imperfect people in great need of that Holy One who came to earth on that fateful night so long ago. The real miracle of Christmas is not even the treasured memories we collect and carefully document in order to remember. It is undeserved grace poured out from heaven above. Grace for sinners such as you and I. It is a baby born to die. It is sins forgiven, negated, absolved and remembered no more. It is freedom. It is mercy that finds itself renewed every morning by the power of that majestic giver of all grace, Emmanuel, God With Us.

Getting ready for the celebration.
A lovely banner ordered here on Etsy and a caramel cake from the

incomparable Leland Riggin of Dessert Designs

The calm before the storm

All set and ready to go

And here they come

Say cheese, please!

And what to my wondering eyes should appear...

 "I don't know about you, but I am going straight for the glass slippers..."

 Nonna and the boys!

Things are getting crazy around here

 The girls' sleeping bags are a great hit!

Let's try them out in the teepee

 Good idea

Brother wants to get in on the action.
Note the matching socks. Not.

This guy is happy happy happy with his new book

Nothin' like a boy and his truck (and a few dinosaurs)

Hey, when do we eat? 

Uncle Bear and I are getting hungry...

While no one is looking, I'm gonna finish up the last of this spinach dip...

The girls feel special at their own little table

And then it gets a little crazy

 The aftermath

 Whew...now it's time to chill out, and let the food digest while the grandbabes watch a little Sound of Music

 And the adults open their stockings...

 
 Am I dreaming or is this room getting smaller
and smaller and smaller?!

 Pappy has found the perfect quiet hideout...in the teepee...with the grandchildren!

Then it's time for everyone to head home and put their sleepyheads to bed.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night!

The Husband's Christmas Letter 2013

   

     The Husband works for an incredible organization, Pinnacle Bank, that allows him the freedom to send his Christmas reflection to all 750 bank employees each year. It is a special gift that he does not take lightly. I look forward each year to reading what he has written. This letter really pierced my heart. Here is this year's letter sent the week before Christmas! Read it and you'll see why I love this man so much.

Christmas Blessing 2013

As we once again approach that joyful time of the year, Christmas, I want to challenge and encourage us to contemplate two aspects of this most extraordinary day in the history of the world.  First, I challenge you to really ponder why and how we celebrate Christmas and the indescribable joy which it should represent to us , and secondly, something upon which we rarely focus in our celebration – the three Wise Men and what they should represent to us.

With regards to this particular day, to me unquestionably Christmas is the most important day in the history of the world and reflects the greatest news ever given to mankind.  The baby’s birth in the manger was the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy:  Isaiah 9:6 – “ For us a child is born, to us a Son is given. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace  “and to the shepherds in the field an angel proclaimed in Luke 2:9:  “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you, He is Christ the Lord. “  Through this day, there are several poignant messages given which we should recognize and claim.  First and most importantly – God loves you.  This love He has for you encapsulates His nature, for in His very essence God is love.  Secondly, God is with you:  Jesus is actually named “Emmanuel” which means “God with us."  Thirdly, God is for you – He wants you to succeed in the things that are truly important.  He desires a vibrant relationship with you – If not, why would He have sent His Son to be with us except to relate with us – not to judge the world but instead to love it and save it.

Let’s not forget the Prodigal Son story in which the father runs out to greet the returning wayward son who had previously abandoned his family.  THAT is the story of Christmas.  It is the Father who runs to greet us in the form of a babe. The Bible clearly states that we were all destined for eternal death in sin but God did not turn His head on us, but instead sent His Son to be with us and ultimately to be the vehicle through whom we can be reunited with Him forever.  Is there anything of greater value to be celebrated?  Life is tough – in fact very tough. Our lives resonate with poor choices; friends disappointing us; family trials; divorce; business failures; debilitating health conditions; deep suffering, separation, and even death. At some point some or all of these are a part of each of our lives.  HOWEVER, Christmas is that good news of great joy which is for everyone who chooses to accept the gift, such that we have something of God's own eternal nature coupled with the power of a heartfelt joy which can supersede and even conquer the temporary circumstances which cause us great unhappiness and anxiety. Through our Lord we now have access to that peace which surpasses all understanding.

You see, a major part of the “Good News” of Christmas is that YOU matter to God.  He knows everything about us – the good, the bad, and the ugly – and He still loves us.  We are not an accident – He has a plan and purpose of life for each of us.  Christmas is God’s chosen time.  It is not about religion, for Jesus did not come to bring us a religion,  but instead He came to bring us a relationship – the opportunity to know Him; love Him; accept Him as Lord; and be forever reunited with Him.  God sent Jesus to us as the most extraordinary gift possible so we could know what He is like.  God did not want us to love him from a distance but instead desired to love us up close.

Now as to the Wise Men, far too infrequently do we place any emphasis upon them and scrutinize exactly who they were  and why they are important to us.  The Wise Men were part of a totally different culture. They are fascinating people. Certainly in the manger, they looked out of place with their fancy clothes and gifts.  The Bible refers to them as “Magi” – quite wealthy and highly educated – a combination of philosophers, scientists, and astronomers.  They were also seekers of the truth.  In Matthew 2:2 they ask:  “Where is the baby who was born to be the King of the Jews?”  They wanted to worship Him.  They were willing to go to any length to find Jesus – to come from the Far East to the Middle East in Bethlehem to find Him – to embark on a four to five month (or possibly longer) journey across a scorching hot desert to find Him.  All the major religious leaders of the world were basically right there in Jerusalem,  only six miles from Bethlehem,  but none of them were seeking Jesus.

Can you imagine what it must have been like when the Magi first saw the baby Jesus?  He looked to be just another baby in a dirty manger, yet they knew immediately that He was the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  They experienced such depth of emotion that they stopped in awe and fell on their faces to worship Him.  Also, remember what these Wise Men did next – they gave Him gifts as part of their worship – gifts representing their very best – gold; myrrh; and frankincense.  They bowed down and gave Him their treasures.

So the question for you and me is:  “What will we give Him?” 

Will we give Him our trust?  Will we give Him first place in our life so that nothing robs Him of that place? Will we look at those things which quite frankly represent idols disrupting our relationship with God?  Will we give Him our Heart?  In that most special place of our heart is what we love; what we most deeply value; those things about which we care the most.  Will we share our love for Him with others?   Will we be seekers of Truth like the Wise Men?  And most importantly, as with the Wise Men, will we give Him our best – not simply our leftovers but instead our very best?  Do you ever contemplate that just maybe God wants a present from us?  Jesus said that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a pearl so valuable that one would sell everything and anything to obtain it.

So the difference in giving our present to God -  our most valuable treasure – our Heart – we immediately get something back in return even more valuable – what a deal!!  The best ever of which I have heard!! We are never to be separated from Him. 

So this December 25^th, I wish for you a most special and blessed Christmas – knowing how much God loves you; how He is with you regardless of present, past, or future circumstances; how in His omnipresence and omniscience He is always watching you and always for you.  I pray that we all will give Him our very best and most precious treasure such that we will enjoy Him, not simply at Christmas, but for all eternity. 

MERRY  CHRISTMAS!

Ed White

Books Under the Christmas Tree

   I have the honor of having a personal acquaintance with a couple of authors and artists who have new works that have made their debut this fall. Any or all would be a wonderful gift for a special someone in your life.
   Without further ado, I am pleased to introduce you to a few of my friends:
 

1. I wrote about the author Lisa Patton and a very special occasion in her life here. I am honored to count her as a close friend. Lisa is one of the most delightful women I know and has made quite a name for herself as a Southern writer, in addition to her other gifts. This last book, which boasts my favorite title to date, is the final installment in a trilogy, but don't worry...you don't have to have read all three to enjoy this marvelously well-crafted and engaging story. Southern as a Second Language can certainly carry its own weight. I am happy that much beloved character Leelee is back in all her glory. She is a friend that will stay with you long after you have closed the pages of the book. She is delightfully and totally "Southern"... and this book is filled with the things that make Southerners endearing to many. Yet if you are looking for a perfect book to curl up in a corner with, a book that will bring you to laughter and tears, this is the one for you. Oh, and there is also a thread of suspense that pulls you in and along just like an undertow. You'll keep turning page after page just to find out what happens in the end. And if you are not Southern when you pick up the book, when you finish you are going to have a better understanding of the rest of us Southerners. You are also gonna wish you were one of our much vaunted tribe.

2. I have been in community with Reggie Anderson's' family for many years. His wife, Karen, and I are dear friends and we have prayed for one another and for each other's children. She is one of the most tender and wise women I know. I remember when her husband mentioned one evening at dinner that he had begun writing down the special experiences that he had had through the years with his patients who were close to death or dying. I was curious at the time, but forgot about the conversation for many months until Karen told me that Reggie had acquired an agent, met with several publishers and had signed the contract: the book was going to be published. I could hardly wait to open Appointments with Heaven by Dr. Reggie Anderson. It is a deeply personal story and Reggie shares much about his Southern upbringing in a small town not far from Selma. Alabama. His walk with God is an integral part of the story, as is the story of how he met Karen and fell in love with her, but the treasure of the story lies in the way that God reveals himself over and over again in Reggie's life and in the lives of those he serves. If you want to be encouraged, about not just what lies ahead for believers, but what is ours for today, read this lovely gem of a book. It will warm your heart and satisfy your soul.

3. Singer/songwriter Ashley Cleveland has the gravelly power house voice of a rock-and-roller. Think Janis Joplin in her prime. Yet the woman can belt gospel with the likes of Mahalia Jackson. When she performs this woman is a combustible force onstage, and with three Grammy's to her credit, she shows no signs of slowing down. Her voice, if anything, has become more powerful and angst-filled as she has aged. This is not a vocal artist who will lull you to sleep. My life connected with Ashley's when she had just moved to Nashville and had begun attending the same church as I. Our daughters were the same age and in the same small school. She and I also were part of the same small women's Bible study group. After I heard her sing, I always wondered why she had not hit the "big-time" as the world knows it. She seemed immensely more talented that other artists who were singing in the same genre. I'm still puzzling over that one. But enough about the music and onto the book. It's a fairly slim volume but like the woman who wrote it, it conveys powerful truth. This is not a story for cowards. This is a book about the childhood roots of adult addiction, redemptive grace and the love of God for broken people. If you can identify with any of these, this book will carry a ring of truth. Ashley is fearless. She leaves no holds barred in her autobiographical work, Little Black Sheep. If you want the truth about how hard life can be, and how powerful and good God is, read this story. It will be freeing for your soul, and keep you searching for more. Trust me when I say that this is a uniquely Southern voice that must be heard.

 

Sanctuary

    I'm not exactly one hundred percent sure that I know where this place is. That's the downside of using a navigation system to get from Point A to Point B. You don't have to map out a course, read a map, or figure out the most economical or most advantageous route to your intended destination. You just turn your brain off and listen to the computer-generated voice as she gets you from here to there. And that's exactly what I did. With my eyes open, of course.
   But oh my. When I traveled the backroads of Georgia, I had no idea that I was on my way to another version of heaven. But I was.
   Lake Lanier. A house (thank you Polly and John) for a week with my sisters. Time to pull things together for an upcoming wedding. Time to unwind. Time to relax. Time to laugh. Time to cry. Time to pray. A few of my favorite things in the whole wide world.
   I've always thought I was a beach person. Now I'm not so sure.