He doesn’t deal well with change

We received an envelope in the mail today from our town that was marked “Census.”  Being the responsible citizen that I am, I opened it up to complete the form.

I started to update our occupations on the actual census form and realized that both my husband and I were listed as college students for our occupations.  Of course, this is because we were college students during the 2000 census.  What a slap in the face to remind you that the ol’ 10-year high school reunion is just around the corner!

So I marked through my occupation and changed it.  Then I stopped.  I told my husband, “Wait, we can’t change your occupation.  You’re still a student.”

Here’s hoping my husband’s occupation will change much sooner than 2020.

[Disclosure: My husband gave me full permission to post this and thought it was hilarious.]

 

Incarnation

Incarnation.

Jesus became a fetus and was birthed with much labor and pain.  He learned how to eat and how to walk.

The Word of God learned how to speak.

He had grandparents and cousins, friends and neighbors, a trade, and no place to lay His head.

Not only did He inhabit our world.  He inhabited our skin and bones life.  He experienced our humanity fully.

The moments of life that are joyous and those that are filled with grief.  The times of boredom and the times of great anticipation.  The lonely and the communal.  The trivial and the monumental.  What overwhelms us suddenly and what keeps us waiting for what seems like forever.

The Divine inhabited the mundane and the normal.  And in doing so, He demonstrated that His presence makes it sacred.

Life is made of many experiences, many emotions, and many moments.  Sometimes they can seem unimportant or irrelevant.  But Jesus’ incarnation means it is not so.

His Spirit within us inhabits every one of our moments and makes them holy.

Oh, the beauty and hope of the incarnation!

 

An Advent Must-Read

I stumbled upon this post today and received a much-needed shift in perspective for this Christmas season.  It is so worth your time.

 

Uncertainty

Life’s been busy lately.  Busy with goodbyes and hellos, weeping and laughing, and all of the other stuff that comes with living in community.  Busy with the kind of stuff that conjures up all sorts of questions inside.  Questions for which I have no answers right now.

There are a lot of unknowns for me in this season, and I have to be okay with that because it’s not going to change anytime soon.  But once again it’s made me aware of how desperate I can be for control, how frustratingly difficult I can find living by faith, and how deep is my vulnerability in an uncertain world.

Uncertainty.  That’s what I dislike so much.  That’s the word that makes me quake inside.

But it’s a reality.  It’s my reality right now.  And someday down the road when I think it’s not, it will still be my reality.

I would sure like to believe that all of my questions will be answered the way I’d like them to be.  And on time too.  But of that I can’t be certain.  I’m not even certain of my own self most days.

So I must return to the Way that seems so counterintuitive to one like me.  Assurance of what I hope for.  Certainty of the unseen.

There is One of whom I can be certain.

When the earth and all its people quake, it is I who hold its pillars firm.  (Psalm 75:3)

 

Near

Emmanuel.

We like to use that particular name of God this time of year.  We sing songs and write Isaiah 7:14 on our Christmas cards.

With us.

I know it in my head, but does my heart really grasp it?

We worship a God who wanted to be with us.

The chasm between us — the one that was our fault, not His — was not acceptable to Him.  He wanted to be with us.  He wanted to be near us.

Christmas.  When God came and dwelt among us.  When God came near.

We give thanks to you, O God, we give thanks, for your Name is near… (Psalm 75:1)

 

How seminary students respond to the first snow

Frosty hadn’t had his V-8 yet.

This is Wilson’s distant cousin from the north.

 Clearly, someone had a productive study break.

 

Who told you that?

“Yes, this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you.  Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have.”  ( Jeremiah 29:8 )

The dreams you encourage them to have.

Oh, we do like for others to promise us what we want, don’t we?

They do it for glory.  We do it for control.

But God calls it deception.

He doesn’t always give us what we want.

He doesn’t always tell us what we want to hear.

But He is the Truth.

Will we listen to Him?

 

Happy Thanksgiving

I read this today and felt that it was an appropriate reflection on this day of giving thanks.  May we be grateful for that which could have undone us and for that which didn’t turn out as we planned.  It is these things that forced us to relinquish control and cling to Him.

Thank you, Lord, for the unexpected.

 

What we’re willing to watch

Our society is so fascinated with parading mistakes online, on TV, on the front page.  We watch broken marriages, addictions, relational rifts and all sorts of indignities play out before eyes.  And because we consume it, we’re served up more of it on a platter.  Give the people what they want!

We don’t seem to mind that the brokenness of these lives is displayed for all to see.  But here’s the thing — we seem to grow disinterested when the indignity stretches beyond celebrity status to faces for whom we have no names.  It’s just so depressing, we say.  Give us more about this girl and how she cheated on that guy.  Show us more pictures of this guy making a fool out of himself because he’s high on meth.  Tell us more about this person’s drunk driving conviction.

Injustice.  Modern-day slavery.  Trafficking.  Mass rape.  Hunger.  Abuse.  Poverty.  Neglect.

If we’re going to indulge in watching other people’s sins, then perhaps we shouldn’t limit it to the ones that make us feel better about ourselves.

 

Gone

I love Washington D.C.  It is by far one of my favorite cities to visit, and I’ve loved getting to travel there for work a few times over the past year.

As my plane took off from Reagan Airport a couple of weeks ago, I looked out the window in an attempt to spot as many landmarks as possible.

I saw the Capitol, then the Washington and Jefferson Monuments.

But before I could pick out any others, they were gone.

I literally blinked, and we were completely enveloped in thick rain clouds from that moment until we landed in Boston.

I was a little miffed.  I had wanted to see more of these marvels that have stood so long as reminders of people and events and principles.

But before I knew it, they were gone.

Lift up your eyes to the heavens, look at the earth beneath; the heavens will vanish like smoke, the earth will wear out like a garment and its inhabitants die like flies.  But my salvation will last forever, my righteousness will never fail.  (Isaiah 51:6)