Transparency.

Oh, I love traditions! I particularly love traditions that began out of necessity with no real intention of becoming traditions. So our Christmas Eve "dinner" brings a smile to my face every year. Because we are passionate about making Christmas Eve services available to all who are open to hearing the Good News of Christmas, we are often at church most of the afternoon and evening. Having our sit down fancy dinner is just out of the question, so several years ago we let the kids plan a quick-fix menu. Everybody gets to add two things to this amazing smorgasbord and over the years we have had quite the unique variety. This year it looks like this:

The Menu:
Key Lime pie (that's for me! And I actually made it the other day and resisted the urge to taste test.)
Chocolate covered strawberries
Sugar and Gingerbread cookies
Fritos
Cinnamon Rolls (Pioneer Woman's freeze really well. Thank goodness.)
Mozzarella Cheese Sticks
Shrimp (also for me. And always on the Christmas Eve menu.)
Flavor Blasted Cheese Goldfish
Sweet Potato Fries with cinnamon yogurt dip
Rotel dip and chips
Summer sausage, cheese and crackers
Hot Chocolate with spray whipped cream
And of course a birthday cake for Jesus. This year it's a "J" candy cane. Red Velvet. I think He'll like that.

Now, in the spirit of transparency, this is what was behind me in that picture:

Honestly, I don't think the picture does it justice. There's powdered sugar on the counter, not an open spot on any surface, the sink is full of nastiness that is going to be gross to clean up. The "quick-fix" label was, well, deceiving. So I'm scurrying around like a crazy woman trying to get everything hot and on the table while kids are whining that they're hungry and I'm leaving debris around me like a Tasmanian devil. Merry Christmas Eve.

And then I thought that maybe that's the transparency I'm supposed to get on Christmas. That this precious Baby lying in a manger in the silent of night as the world slept was leaving a whirlwind of upheaval in the Heavenly realm that was soon to make its way to the ears of Herod. But more than that, God's bursting into human Flesh disrupted the human condition.

"Long lay the world in sin and error pining, til He appeared and the soul felt its worth."

And what a disruption. One we don't even know we need until we see the beauty of what it brings. A table set for us with all our favorite things.The work that He has done to restore us to Himself that we may see Him. That pulls us out of our own chaos and whining and longing for something more and bigger and better and fulfilling and offers that very Thing which brings peace for us. The beauty of Himself.

"Light of the world You stepped down into darkness, opened my eyes let me see beauty that made this heart adore You."

So I'll deal with the mess I left - because it was worth it. And I'll do it again next year. Because it was born out of necessity.

"O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray; cast out our sin, and enter in, be born in us today."

"Jesus Split the Line..."

I have this treasure from the pen of my great-grandfather:  his journal from 1909-10 as he traveled in a covered wagon to stake his land in an Oklahoma land run. Yes. I know how extremely cool that is!

Nestled in the entries about how to get a wagon across the quicksand in the Red River (I'm fully prepared should I ever encounter this dilemma), opinions on prohibition and a detailed description of a breath-taking cave in SE Oklahoma, is this little jewel. Here is what he wrote about Christmas 1910:

Christmas at our present time surely does not mean what it did many years ago. For with me, and I guess everyone is similar to myself in this respect, I look upon it as a holiday and think but little more of it than any of the others; other than it the most prominent. And even its prominence may be due in a great measure to the fact that it is so very ancient. People down here are celebrating it very much as the 4th of July is celebrated up with us. Even our 4th celebrations are discounted for three fourths of the people here get drunk. If the divinity of Christ is unmistakable, Xmas should mean more than this. I have been wondering if there wasn't a special significance in having all dates reflect back to the birth of Christ; if this is the real state of affairs then we can see the completeness and simplicity of the Creator's Plan. The custom is so firmly established that every civilized person has suggested to his mind that there is a Savior whether he accepts it or not; and this same suggestion is made every time his age or date in history is referred to. We can see how unconsciously this realization of a Savior might be bred into one's life.... I humbly confess that it hasn't been over two years since I fully realized for the first time that when I gave the date of my birth, I gave that of Christ's as well.

Oh, to be so mindful of Emmanuel...

This coming, this advent, this Flesh covering of The Word, "split the line at the turning point of time." And when have I marveled that the right hand lower corner of my computer keeps track of that moment in time that changed everything? Down to the minute. The very second. Instead, I'm rushing to make returns and grab another gift and sag my shoulders at the many still to decide on and frustrated that I have no idea what will bless the recipients in the ways I wish to bless them. And so I shake my head and make another list and bark at the kids to pick up their own stuff so I don't trip over it because I don't have time for a cast on my leg. Oh, if the divinity of Christ is unmistakable, Xmas should mean more than this.

Why I'm really okay with Christmas before Thanksgiving

"Can't we just get through Thanksgiving first?"

Oh, if I had a turkey leg for every time I've spoken those words through the years! But something different has been gnawing at me lately. It started last year when I blared this in my house all through the month of July.

Yes. For real. I was really just being silly at first, but then I started wrapping my brain (or maybe it was my heart) around God dwelling among us. Something different happened when I took the Story of Christmas out of the context of the frenzied, holiday hubbub. GOD with us? God WITH us? God with US??? Oh, Emmanuel! Yes! You ARE with us! And so I celebrated the Joy to the World with the Angels We Have Heard on High, beholding the hallowed manger scene. At the pool.

And then this spring (and again this summer) I read this book.

Find it here

Eucharisteo. Does that make you think of Eucharist? Ever wonder why it's called that? 

"And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them..." (Luke 22:19) He gave thanks. The Greek word is eucharisteo. In breaking the bread, in facing the sacrifice for our salvation, He gave thanks. Can I not also? Can I not "give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Thess. 5:18)? 

Can I make it a lifestyle? Can I daily...no, moment by moment...recognize His blessings that He has poured all over me? Can I be aware enough to count, to give thanks, eucharisteo, one thousand of His gifts that He longs for me to enjoy? Things like:

23. Beautiful clouds announcing the arrival of a new day

152. Jacob after communion: "I want to do it again." Ah, me, too, Little Man. Me, too.

275. Pastor Mike and his heart for Jesus

357. Recognition of my weakness knowing that He is strong in my weakness

I'm making my way to writing down one thousand and in the process the expression of thanksgiving is becoming the habit of thanksliving. 

So this year, rather than "getting through Thanksgiving" before I celebrate Christmas, I desire to not only celebrate Emmanuel at the feast of blessing, but to bring Thanksgiving right to the foot of the manger. And to see the breaking of the bread and the cross and triumph at Easter on the table of grace and in the shadow of the Star that shown over the stable. Because all of it is God pursuing us, reconciling us to Himself, and I don't want to miss it. Perhaps Thanksgiving and Christmas need not be so compartmentalized. Regardless of what retail shelves tell us.

So I'll change out decorations and sing joyful songs and contemplate the gifts I have already been given and share the ones that will bless others. Before the fourth Thursday in November. And long after.

Rich.

This statement from my professor pretty much rocked my world today. "Do I need a PhD to exegete 'Go, sell all your possessions and give to the poor?' No, I don't. It's not that I don't understand it, it's that I'm choosing to be disobedient."

Yeah, take that pill and swallow it. Please don't tell me that that scripture really applies to me.

But then you slap on a "season" of thanksgiving (why isn't it a lifestyle again?) and turn smack dab into a season of let's-get-more (which is really just ingratitude - ahem, opposite of thanksgiving - wrapped up in pretty paper with a high price tag and an air of entitlement), and maybe I'm not exempt.

Maybe we're rich.

Maybe we're young and immature and don't really know what it means to follow Jesus.

Maybe we're rulers of our own little world with all our cool stuff and yummy food and cozy homes and we like it that way.

Maybe...we're rich, young rulers.

Usually I hear the explanation of that little encounter in the Bible as really just Jesus' way of telling us that "whatever it is that you love more than Me" is what needs to go. Whatever has its grip on you. Well, my phone has a grip on me. My laundry (how many days' worth of clothes do I really need?) has a grip on me. My basement is embarrassing so I prefer to ignore that one. My kids' activities, while all completely justifiable, dominate my calendar. Christmas "giving" has a grip on me.

Which leads me to the Mother of the Year acceptance speech I've been working on for a few weeks now: "I don't want to get my kids a stinking thing for Christmas. I don't want to spend money I don't have on stuff we don't need that will take up time we say is more valuable. I don't want to step on one more Lego in the dark. I don't want to hear one more whine about not getting to play 'just til I finish this level' and I don't want to find a home for more crap. I don't want to add to the sense of entitlement that our culture has proclaimed every day of their life and that I have - yes, I have - welcomed into my home with open arms under the guise of birthday parties, TV propaganda, and 'I just want to see their face light up.' And I don't want to endorse a game of Keeping Up With the Joneses. And I, quite frankly, don't want to help anybody else play that game either."

Yeah. I'm still gnawing on that last one myself. Somehow feeding others the same materialistic, stuff-will-make-you-happy philosophy is starting to leave a bad taste in my mouth. See, I find it interesting that Jesus says to "Go sell" and then "give to the poor." So, if you've sold your stuff, what's left to give? Some translations actually come right out and tell you. Money. Give your money to the poor. But we don't do that, because they might spend it on stuff they don't need.

Like we do.

Dang it, I'm mad! I'm mad that I can't seem to really do it. I can justify it that I give in a lot of ways. But I don't give it all.

But I cry as I fill my big ol' garden tub with gallons and gallons of refreshing, clean water because my Honduran momma friends have to carry their dirty, dangerous water in 5 gallon buckets on their heads so they can cook, clean, and drink it. And I want to relax in mine.

And then I get all rational and realize that my not filling my bathtub doesn't get clean water to Escuapa. So, there. I give myself a pass.

And then I read stuff like this:

"The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry man; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to the man who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the man who has no shoes; the money which you put in the bank belongs to the poor. You do wrong to everyone you could help, but fail to help." St. Basil the Great

Dang it. Why am I afraid to be so radically different? Why do I think it will somehow be a bad thing for my family? Why do I think I have to convince my family? What is my role as an individual - not just wife and mom? What am I called to model to my kids? Why hasn't anybody that calls me friend said, "Jenn, I think Jesus means what He says." Why does everybody explain it away?

Well, not everybody. I know a few who are living rich, fulfilling lives because they gave it all away and discovered why Jesus ever spoke it in the first place.

And yet, I'm still choosing to be disobedient. Oh, sure. I can say that that verse is for "those" particular people. And you can, too. It's not a blanket command that Jesus expects every Christian to follow. Nah. But if I feel any kind of relief at the thought that it doesn't apply to me, then it probably does.