Then yesterday, bad news, the worst.  About a man I met once, at his own wedding, in the church of my childhood, to one of my best childhood friends.  We got married the same year.  We had our first babies the same year.  Used the same first name for our sons.  They have the same three initials.

Last night I watched out the kitchen window intensely aware of the traffic.  I peered  into the darkness as streams of headlights passed with drivers on their way home from work.  I prayed for my husband to come home, which he did.  I prayed for my friend who would face the first night in which her husband did not ever coming home again.  This morning I prayed God would be present with her as she awakened to a new morning facing yesterday’s loss afresh.

We have heard of much death lately.  The father of my husband’s best man taken by cancer.  The grandfather of a faraway friend.  And in the midst of this where is God?  Can He be present?  In the loss of a beloved husband and father?  Or even, in the process of the losing you know is coming.

Aren’t these the moments when the incarnation matters most?  Not while we are opening all the things we asked for, or didn’t, around the décor of a season we, for all intent and purposes, invented.  But right here in the midst of death, of husbands, of fathers, or grandfathers that we know.  In the sorrow of cancer diagnosis and treatment or the anxiety of the birth of babies with  complications.  Let’s face it, things get complicated even if your birth wasn’t.

And so  we pray and ask others for prayer and expect to be heard.  By God.  No one else will do;  only God.  The God who gives the only true comfort.  The author of the reason for our only true joy.  We ask that He meet us and our family and friends, or even strangers in foreign lands, with needs too overwhelming for us to imagine.  To comfort what no one else can even really understand.  To bring comfort, justice, peace and love in a world filled with sorrow, greed, self-sufficiency and indifference.  To allow laughter to follow sorrow even if it takes some time.

Blessings today for prayers expectantly prayed to the God who hears no matter where you are or what is going on around you.

Presence seems to be a dying art in American culture.  I realize this makes me sound VERY old!  But in support, let me illustrate with a picture from last Friday’s lunch out with my sometimes Friday off hubby.  We went to the nearby park with the dog.  It was a beautiful, if brisk, day.  The river was fast and full.  We all enjoyed the outing and brought the dog back so we could try the new burger joint that just opened in the local marketplace.   The burgers were delicious!  The music was loud for a fairly small seating area, but what caught my eye were these two gentlemen seated across a small table from each other having lunch.  As they were clearly finished eating both ended up on their phones talking with other people.  I can’t even tell if this will be shocking to anyone else.  But it was to me.  I discussed this with the oldest M who said he was relieved I hadn’t discovered them openly expressing an alternate lifestyle so the phone thing was preferable for him.

Seriously?!  We take presence so for granted that we are openly rude to someone willing to spend time with us.  I’m not saying I don’t check my phone if it rings while I’m out. But unless you’re my kids, or my parents, with an emergency I can’t see ignoring the person I’m with to have a chat.  I wonder if we would have noticed Jesus at all should he be born amid the commercialism that has become Christmas.  Maybe if you could follow his birth on YouTube…but I digress.

Presence is so important because it is what we need.  We need it from the people who love us and the Lord who made us.  It is so necessary to our lives that in order for us to have it God was born as a baby boy in a stable in the Middle East. He came to grow up under Roman rule, in a world ruled by the Prince of Darkness and to overcome the darkness with His light.  This required a perfect life, an excruciating death, going to hell and coming back expunging the sin of those who He has chosen along the way.

May you be present for those who you love, and those God is bringing into His light this season!  Blessings.

I began to wonder then at why it is that I’m so put off by the thought that Thanksgiving gets squeezed every year by Christmas.  My lovely and much missed Gram put her tree up almost as soon as the last dish was dry from the Thanksgiving table, so it isn’t like I haven’t been raised with the thinking.  Maybe it is that what I’m missing in the Christmas season is the ability to see Christmas as a time to be most thankful.  No gift received in this life will rival or out last the life born on the day that is reason for giving gifts at all.  As I have set up my new home I have unpacked almost every box.  Taken out loads of gifts both long displayed and newly acquired, or newly found with shelf space to accommodate it.  I’ve filled frames with pictures old and new, hung paintings and pictures and treasured the memories each of these bring of lovely people who I have been surrounded by my whole life.  And I am very grateful for each gift and person represented.  I cannot be more grateful for them than for the One who has sent them all.

So as I decorate for a hopefully lovely Christmas, complete with a special room just for the train (already up and running!).  I pray to be reminded not only of the babe in the manger, but the life and work fleshed out among us, taken by us, and risen for us that we might live.  May you believe how much you are loved by God who sent His Son so that you will not perish but have everlasting life.

Blessings!

It seems true in my inner life as well.  I get frosty in the places I don’t warm with the light of the Son.  I become easily distracted by the seemly never ending errands, chores, and everyday tasks, and then choose brain drain over the discipline of thought, reading, writing, or filing!  There are always choices for things to do.  The easy ones are tempting, just sit for a moment and eat while watching mindless TV.  Or even find an exercise program on said TV then sit after the exercise for just a bit longer than expected pushing off the whole schedule of the day.  Wait to read, push off thinking, respond to whatever immediate need with whatever immediate resources are available instead of warming up in the light of the Word and the presence of the Spirit who motivates us as we think on lovely things.  So little lovely to think on when the TV is on.  Props, however, to ABC for the new Once Upon A Time show at 8 pm on Sundays that the kids and I are thoroughly enjoying together!

I’m reading the highly recommended 1000 Gifts:  A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp.  And it’s working.  I’ve always liked thinking about gratitude and the power of thankfulness.  This helps me remember that in the right Spirit I can be thankful to a God who is present with me exactly where I am.  Turns out thanksgiving is a fabulous defroster!

My favorite Christmas movie last year was Holiday Inn and as good as the movie is, the soundtrack is wonderful.  They have a song for each holiday and the one for Thanksgiving is both catchy and fittingly titled, “I’ve Got Plenty To Be Thankful For.”  So I’m playing it often to remind myself of the grace I need to receive before I can turn it around and graciously mother my kids, love my hubby, do dishes, laundry, band concerts and even register the van to be officially Virginians!  One thing at a time.  One day at a time.

Blessings for moments of thankfulness and the thawing joy they provide!

I’m not sure why I feel so anxious about getting things done. I am mostly caught up.  It just feels like I should be doing more.  More what?  I’m not quite sure.  Usually this time of year I’m melting down pumpkins and visiting people with fresh bread.  The first blog, almost two years ago, was about making pumpkin bread.  We had lots of pumpkins we made lots of bread, waffles, ice cream and pie.  The family finished with pumpkin.  It was the second of a three year obsession for me.  I didn’t buy pumpkins this year.  At the last minute  I made a referee shirt out of a white collared shirt, two sided tape and tissue paper.  He liked it.  Referees like rules and get a whistle, it suited him.

More than being homesick for another place, these moments remind me of missing my routines.  I haven’t yet developed a pattern here.  Haven’t spent even 5 months, haven’t seen all the seasons and am feeling deeply the unfamiliar-ness of living somewhere new.  Adjustment, routine, memory are all developed over time.  I’m sure they will come.  I’m certain it is hard to wait.  As we head into full-blown holiday seasons it will be good to go through fun times in our new house.  We’ve had our first fire, in the fireplace and most of our seasonal decor is where we can find it.  In the midst of this newness, I’m reminded of the blessing of gratefulness.  Thankful for each day here and each day that brought us here.

Blessings for days that make you thankful!

Fasting doesn’t leverage God.  It does reset my focus.  Who really is the one that sets my priorities?  How much of my life is really within my control?  I know these answers usually, fasting has, through the years, helped me live them.  And it reminds me of the fleeting pleasures and passing moments that are fine to enjoy but not to live for.  My college friend merited a day of fasting as she went to a foreign land to decide upon marrying the man of her dreams and living there, which she does today.  Much prayer and fasting went into our deeply rooted time in the church from which we have recently moved.

And my kids merit more of my prayers than my control, if only I could remember that more often!  There is much in the world to remind us that we need to remember upon whom we can depend.  An ever-present, unsurprised God on whom we can count not to make all our wishes come true but to deliver us to all we could ever wish for in this life and the next.

Blessings for  a day full of reminders of God’s abundant provision.

Fitting to describe much of this season of my life, if not the somewhat fleeting season itself.   The poet example is perfect as I’ve previously recommended my good friend Anne Overstreet’s lovely poetry book, delicate machinery:  suspended.  I mailed it off to her on the distant Pacific shore and it came back signed with an inscription containing the words “enduring friendship”.  A blessing for which I am very grateful.

My parents have recently returned to their faraway home from the longest visit with us ever.   Two weeks that included a women’s retreat, two days of cemetery visits, an ER trip and an open house with some of the people who have known me longest and loved me best outside of those who live here.  They have endured.  As a side note, so have their marriages.  And they have kept up over the long haul of time, daily distraction and distance with my parents who have loved them well through their own enduring of the circumstances in which they live and minister always with care and concern for the people around them.

And finally, Max with whom we have endured news we never expected.  He has endured unimaginable frustration and isolation, as well as an almost constant education.  Now thanks to the many hands who have served us, and many prayers on our behalf, he has beat the odds before him and finds himself at the end of the need for special education services.  He will still be listed as potentially in need of transitional help and there will be at least one or two staff people at the school who are aware of his condition but he will not have need for an IEP as of November 8th.  He seems very much a typical, though quirky, 8 year old.  And to people who don’t know, they don’t know by watching or interacting with him.  Amazing grace!  Enduring grace!

May the God whose mercy endures forever meet you today in all that you are called to endure.  Blessings!

There are a couple of key types of transplanting.  The first is described above.  Moving the whole pot from one place to another.  Another is uprooting the plant to place the whole thing in a new, usually larger pot as the old one gets too small.  This fall we will be replanting Mady’s third grade Arbor Day tree to the yard.  And sometimes, for other plants, we divide them, splitting the roots and re-potting them.

In the past week I could blog more about earthquakes, hurricanes, house projects and three kids starting three new schools, but in each case I find that it isn’t where you are or what is happening around you so much as how deeply you’re rooted to the eternal truth that God loves you and sent His son to show you that. In light of His grace poured out into our lives He intends for us to bloom where He plants us.

Blessings!

My long ago, faraway, found-again-on-Facebook friend Anne Overstreet just published a book of poetry.  It is lovely.  The title delicate machinery suspended from a poem about her father’s heart surgery.  They are personal poems, the best kind.  They are words containing layers without narrative or extended explanation.  Briefly set scenes at the beginning of each chapter give a window through which to hold common ground and know bits of the history which the words describe.  I’ve read it and will again.  You should too!  Poetry is a hard fought battle in America.  We value sound bites, fast explanations and Google maps to get where we’re going rather than descriptions of the lovely views along the journey.  Read here for a recent article on our national poet.  Especially if you didn’t know we have one!

The first few words of this blog were in my mind as I logged on today.  Then a crash of glass on the garage floor interrupted what I had hoped would be a moment’s reflection.  A typical circumstance.  I took a picture of Steve, the painter, on my camera to remind me to blog about the therapy of claiming our spaces and the excitement of building together.  It fit well with a view of said Steve out the kitchen window mowing the grass, but then the mower broke and I had to get a funnel and didn’t get back to the thought, until now.  And now, my skateboarding 8 year old isn’t in the driveway.  So I’m off…

Blessings among the many things that occupy your time!

First up Erin Rist.  A new friend at our new church.  Freshly minted graduate from Christopher Newport and raising support for Intervarsity.  She’ll spend an intern year at the College of Charleston then hopes to be off to break new ground in ministering to those studying in the arts!

Kudos to Matt McMahon for entering the discussion on the debt-ceiling with a song that showcased his writing and producing ability.  Sorry it didn’t win money.  View his song here.  Write lovely comments about it! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9IoV-0cxT0&feature=share

Just a couple of examples of good work from Kingdom workers who are keeping up their faith in the message to transform lives regardless of the political or economic climate around them.  Encouraging news, good for all of us!

Blessings.