O Come Let Us Adore Him

We've been preparing our hearts for His coming. 

We have the Good News.

It brings us great joy.

Immanuel.

God With Us.

Love came down.

The Messiah lying in a manger.

The Christ came to lay down His life on a cross.

 That we might come to Him.

Amazing grace.

May be like the poor shepherds who glorified and praised God for all they had heard and seen.

May be like Mary who treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.

May we be like the wise men and seek and fall down and worship Him.

O come.

May we simply come.

Into His presence.

Lay aside the trappings of this world.

Let us adore Him.

It is time.

When Homelessness is More than a Face and our Hearts Break Afresh

We put out seeds in the old feeder for the birds and enjoy the theatrical show from the kitchen window and shoot them with glass lenses.

Front and centre, the chickadees flitter back and forth calling us 'hey sweetie', the sparrows and finches alternate between perching on the edge of the feeder and gleaning on the ground, and the wood-peckers tap, tap, tap.

The dark-eyed juncos prance and dance in the snow and the white-breasted nuthatches forage down the tree headfirst.

Bossy blue jays bully their way in and try to take over while the mourning doves sing and coo.

We catch only a glimpse of the hawk hiding high up in barren branches.

From off-stage, out there on a limb, the bright pair of shy cardinals swiftly glide in and out before their predator spots them, and then find safety in their shelter in the snow crested pine tree.

They all fly home.

"And Jesus said to him, 

'Foxes have holes, 

and birds of the air have nests,

 but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.'"

{Mathew 8:20}

Homeless used to be an unknown face.

Now it's a name.

It's a loved one far from home but not far from our hearts.

It's not just a vagabond with vacant eyes.

Not just a beggar with a cardboard box and dirty clothes on top of a street vent.

Or the humblest creature hunched over a few coins.

It's family, a brother, a son.

A long lost loved one.

It's the least of these, our brothers living in the lowest means.

We look to heaven and pray he'll find his way home.



When homelessness has a name you look at the desperate with different eyes.

We offer the smallest token of God's love.

We extend hands, look deep into eyes to say God's loves you.

Offer a warm bowl of soup and a cup of hot coffee, maybe a sweet donut, on a bitter winter's day.

Step away and pray that it will be received as God's comfort in a cold world and that it will make our hearts bleed like Christ's even more.



When it hits close to home it can't be ignored.

In the words of William Wilberforce, " . . . you may choose to look the other way but you can never again say that you did not know".

We must look straight to the heart of the Messiah who left His home with His Father, chose the lowliest birth, and "was laid . . . in a manger, because there was no place for [him] in the inn".

The One who makes all things beautiful in His time, was a babe in a manger at the appointed time.

He knows homelessness. He bore it's name.

But in His redemptive plan he gave it a new name.

It's called Hope and it was birthed out of Mercy and Grace.

We're all homeless until we are called home. All without hope until we reach out in faith and take hold of His.

Living Hope in a manger to call the lost, wandering ones home.

Called us—now sojourners, pilgrims, temporary residents here on earth. 

Those of us who have received mercy, who have found hope?

May our hearts break over what breaks His.

May our brothers who have no home, know His hope this Christmas.


 

Words of Wisdom for the Weekend ~ The Light in Dark Places

"The people who walked in darkness 

have seen a great light;

those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,

on them has light shone."

~Isaiah 9:2~

"The message of Christmas is not that we can make peace. Or that we can make love, make light, make gifts, or make the world save itself. 

The message of Christmas is that this world's a mess and we can never save ourselves and we need a Messiah. 

For unto us a child is born. 

The Light never comes how you expect it. It comes as the unlikely and unexpected—straight into Bethlehem unlikely and the feed trough hopeless, and Christmas whispers there is always hope. It doesn't matter how dark the dark is; a light can still dawn. It doesn't matter if the world whispers, 'There's not a hint that help will come from elsewhere,' telling us that nothing will ever improve, get better, change. God favours the darkest places so you can see His light the brightest. 

And once the light of Christ shatters your dark, shadows forever flee your shadowlands. There's no going back and living in the dark; you live in impenetrable, safe Light of light, and Christmas never ends for you. A Christian never stops living Christmas."

~Ann Voskamp, 'The Greatest Gift'

***

{Words for Wisdom for the Weekend: These are words that I have been challenged or encouraged by that I have read throughout my week that I kept pondering; words that I couldn't get off my mind and heart throughout my week. 

For other Words of Wisdom for the Weekend posts see here.}

How to Wait to Give Birth to Hope not Worry

Nobody has ever said that waiting would be easy.

And, honestly, I've never found it to be.

Waiting unleashes worry that winds its fingers of fear like a noose around my neck so that I can only cry out for a cord of hope.

It can set anxiety on fire till I wake up in a sweat dreaming of the worst case scenario, the dreaded diagnosis, or the debilitating state of affairs.

The uncertain can attempt to undermine the most sure purpose.

The unplanned can aim to undo the most perfect schedule.

The unknown can aspire to unravel the most secure person.

If one has no hope to turn to, no Saviour to trust.

In times of waiting we turn back through the pages of history and read how hope was made a reality in the days of our lives in the most astonishing way.

When Mary was visited by the angel at first she was greatly troubled and uncertain that what was told her could possibly be God's purpose for her.

"How can this be?"

She was doubtful.

She was betrothed to Joseph and marriage would come before the child was her perfectly laid out plan.

"I am a virgin?"

She was skeptical.

She was secure in the Jewish traditions but this announcement that she would bear a child and He would be the very Son of God had never been known to another woman. The impossible was not only unknown it was also unheard of.

She was incredulous.

It was all a mystery.

God chooses the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 

 "Nothing is impossible with God."

God chose a slip of a girl to bring about His gracious plan of salvation.

He placed in her heart the desire to surrender and in her womb the Deliver who would save her.

“Behold, I am the servant of the Lord . . ."

She was willing.

And then the waiting began.

I can't imagine the doubt and discouragement that may have mingled with the expectant hope for nine months. How do you prepare your heart to give birth to Immanuel?

How do you silence the fears and slay the dragons that threaten to destroy the hope you've been given?

How do you keep the fears at bay when your are waiting to give birth to the Holy One?

Is it not in trusting? 

" . . . let it be to me according to your word."

She had faith.

In trusting her doubt was turned to praise and her discouragement was turned to confidence in the Almighty, the holy and merciful God.

In beautiful yielding to His ways, she was blessed to bring forth, bear down and deliver the One who would deliver her. 

"For whatever was written in former days 

was written for our instruction, 

that through endurance and 

through the encouragement of the Scriptures

 we might have hope."

The mystery was made known to us that we may be secure in the person of Christ.

The mystery was planned before the foundation of the world.

And the mystery never leaves us uncertain of our purpose.

The mystery is Christ.

His personal presence in my life.

***

So in times of waiting, I need turn from worry and hold fast to the truth. 

Trust that He who is the mystery, dwells in me. 

Believe that He who is my Deliver will hold me by His grace.

Cling to the hope that not only lies in the manger at Christmas but the in the mercy of the Cross.

The Movement of God ~ The Merciful Heart of God to Save Miserable Souls

We cry out for peace and find it in none other but Him.

The Word who dwelt among us—

Christ, who created all things and in whom all things consist.

He came in flesh.

He took the very form of man He had made in His own image that we might have hope in this dark world.

This is the breath-taking wonder and grace of the incarnation.

Yes, weary hearts wait for hope from Him who became human.

***

So in this miserable world we wait in silence for God alone.

As Mary waited for God Almighty to come from her womb, she—

Surrendered herself to the impossible—

God visited a virgin.

As Mary marvelled at the movement of God, full of mercy, He—

Sent forth His Son to become the Saviour—

God becomes mystery.

***

He saw the misery of this world and moved with mercy.

And the mystery is this: God not only with us, but Christ in us.

We wait in silence, until, like Mary, our quieted souls can sing:

“My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 

for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. 

For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 

for he who is mighty has done great things for me,

and holy is his name. 

And his mercy is for those who fear him

from generation to generation."

"If God were only all mighty and holy there would be no hope for us at all. If God were only all mighty and holy then we should be all blotted out, the whole world would be destroyed. There would be no salvation. But thank God for this little 'and' . . . 'and His mercy'. Mercy - this is the thing that saves us. Grace and mercy go together. Grace comes before mercy."  "Grace is love and favour toward those who do not deserve it because of their guilt;  kindness and goodness revealed to those who don't deserve it because they are guilty.  "Mercy is love toward those who are not merely guilty but who are miserable in their guilt and miserable because they are guilty."  "God looks down and sees mankind in its mercy, in its agony, in its pain." ~Martyn Lloyd-Jones

The misery of the world made Him look down with compassion and mercy that we might have hope in Him.

That is why God sent His Son as a babe to Bethlehem.

That is why Christ incarnate humbled Himself on a hill at Calvary.

That is why we can sing His praise and rejoice in hope as humans waiting for Heaven.

Words of Wisdom for the Weekend ~ Slow down this Christmas Season, Breath in the Grace of God's Greatest Gift

"He will not burden you. He will not break you. He will bless you—the God of invincible reliability, the God who has infinite resources, the God who is insistent love . . . You can always breath when you know all is grace." 

"You must feel the fullness of your own pitcher before you trust the pouring out of yourself."

"'It is not use for you to attempt to sow out of an empty basket, for that would be sowing nothing but wind," wrote Spurgeon.'"

"So slow down and feel the wind. Listen to carols just a little bit longer. Linger in the quiet and taste the grace of now, and know that He is God and He is good." 

". . . and the greatest present you always have to give is His presence—looking into someone's eyes as you listen, refusing the wrong of rush, lingering long enough to really listen—to everything. "

~Ann Voskamp, 'The Greatest Gift'

***

{Words for Wisdom for the Weekend: These are words that I have been challenged or encouraged by that I have read throughout my week that I kept pondering; words that I couldn't get off my mind and heart throughout my week. 

For other Words of Wisdom for the Weekend posts see here.}

Laugh at the Impossible ~ Reflecting on the Hilarity of the Gospel in My Life

She was sitting on the vanity in the bathroom and I was brushing her little white baby teeth; telling her to ‘open up’ and ‘spit it out' when I looked up.

I quickly averted my gaze for I did not like what was staring back. I've never liked seeing myself in a mirror.

But in those few seconds, something caught my eye so I glanced back for a closer examination. I  realized that the lines I was now scrutinizing were etched in frown lines.

I ran a simple test and smiled a goofy smile and the lines disappeared. I frowned and there they were.

Making a complete fool of myself in front of my little girl, I thought to myself that I really need to smile more. I realized that for the frown lines to be leaving their mark, I must be furrowing my brow and hanging my lips down a whole lot more than turning up the corners of my mouth.



I know I take myself too seriously too much of the time.

I know I let the mundaneness and the stresses of life dictate.

I know I have told the kids a thousand times to pick up their things or finish their work or come set the table and I huff and puff and mumble how nobody listens to me. The milk spills and the bills flow in wave upon wave and the washing machine breaks and my immediate thought is how inconvenient life can be. How it interferes with my plans.

I feel the weight of raising these children up right and fear that most of the time I am failing.

I think that I need to be the perfect wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, Christian.

I think of the missing family member, and the marriage imploding, and doctors that can’t do anything with me and I just have to wait until I get really bad and start to faint and then they will see if they can fix my heart, and another MRI scheduled that I'm trying not to worry about.

And I say it, with tears welling up, that life's not fair, even though I know that it has nothing to do with fair.

With all this, how am I supposed to take myself lightly? When do I have time to smile, to laugh?

Oh, don't me wrong, I really do love to laugh. A good hard belly laugh with tears streaming down till it hurts kind of laugh.

It is just that the seriousness of life too often takes over.

Or, rather, we fix our eyes on the things that can be seen in this life, instead of the unseen things that are eternal.



The writer of post over at The Rabbit Room caught my attention with these words about Abraham and Sarah:

‘ . . . the joyful laughter of a couple who understand how outlandishly they have been blessed . . . They laughed sardonically when they heard the prediction. They laughed for joy when the prediction came true. So they named their boy “Laughter.”’

I read this post just days after seeing my reflection in the bathroom mirror. And I recognized the truth that, yes, I take myself far too seriously.

The writer quotes G.K. Chesterton:

‘It is really a natural trend or lapse into taking one’s self gravely, because it is the easiest thing to do. . . . For solemnity flows out of men naturally; but laughter is a leap. It is easy to be heavy: hard to be light.’

That’s me!

It is easy to be heavy. It comes naturally for me ~ the frown lines etched in aging skin reveal all.

How often I fail to see the hilarity of the Gospel in my life.

‘There’s a deep pleasure in the gospel that nobody talks about very much, and it is the pleasure of saying, “Oh, What a fool I have been! I was so sure I knew how this thing was going to turn out. I shaped my life around a foolish assumption that the world was telling me the truth about itself and my place in it. I was so wrong! Halleluiah! I lived in fear of things that had no power to harm me! I thought I had to exert my will and get my way! But now I don’t have to anymore. Halleluiah!”’

I was/am nothing and yet, God by His unbelievable amazing grace has saved me. He called me ‘out of darkness into his marvelous light.’



It is the season of waiting.

We have so much to rejoice over. To laugh at the impossible because of a babe lying in a manger. God in a manger. God with us.

‘[T]he Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.’

Oh, to laugh.

To laugh like the 90 year old mother of nations. The mother who laughed at the prediction. And laughed again when the promise came true.

I have more reason to laugh than to just change my frown lines into laugh lines.

God has done the impossible.

The shoot has come from the stump of Jesse. The root out of dry ground.

He knew mundane and He knew brokenness and pain. He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

He has welcomed me into His kingdom.

He has told me to ‘count it all joy . . .  when you meet trials of various kinds’ that the testing will develop perseverance to bring me to maturity.

And so we wait.

Wait for the Greatest Advent ~ His coming again!

And in the waiting I will laugh!

And how it will light up my countenance and restore joy in my heart.











*A post from the archive with a 'Five Minute Friday' editing.

***

Linking with Five Minute Friday at Lisa-Jo's place. This week the prompt is: Reflect

Officially, the rules are:

1. Write for 5 minutes  {Full disclosure: I spent a little more time on this post}

2. Link up at Lisa-Jo's  and invite others to join in.

3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community...

The Good News that Brings Hope to Our Hearts

Our hearts are desperate for hope.

Are our ears deaf, eyes blind to the hope that has come?

The good news was heralded by angels to humble shepherds.

The Messiah had come down to bring peace. 

An army of heaven lit up the night sky with praise.

“Glory to God in the highest, 
and on earth peace among those 
with whom he is pleased!”

reached the lowliest of ears.

The Saviour had been born in a stable and the news reached Shepherds on a hillside.

To those low to the earth, came the earth-shattering good news.

There was a heavenly army shouting praises to God over a field because the Light of the world come from heaven was in a feeding trough.

We have hope in this dark world. Emmanuel - God with us - has come. 

We do not need to worry about how humble our work, how simple our words, how small our world.

The Messiah came as a baby, born in a stable, in the little town of Bethlehem. 

How more small, simple, and humble could he come? 

He left the heights of heaven and made himself nothing.

Whatever our present circumstances, we need not be concerned, for our joy is in the One who was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger because there was no room in the inn, that He might suffer on a blood-stained cross, be laid in a grave, and be raised again that we might have eternal hope.

We seemed to be concerned whether we are 'enough' these days. So many days I feel like I don't have even two fish and five loaves of bread to offer up. Weary moments when I feel low to the ground watching over a few children.




But we are waiting. Groaning and waiting for a coming. For the Christ who has come is coming again.

"The eternal future must come far before the fleeting trifles of to-day; you must let the things which are seen sink, and bid the "things not seen as yet" rise in all their matchless grandeur and reality before your eyes. You must give up chasing butterflies and shadows, and pursue things eternal. My soul immortal pines only for immortal joys. I leave my present lot to be appointed of the Lord as he wills, so long as he will shed his love abroad in my heart." (Spurgeon)

We have the good news. It brings great joy. And peace on earth for those with whom God is pleased. 

A peace on earth because we enjoy an eternal presence with Emmanuel. God with us and us with God.

Let us go with haste like the Shepherds and make known that which we have heard with our ears and seen with our eyes and believed in our hearts.

When the Light Brings Life

I love to watch the morning light chase away the darkest shadows.

The sun always burns away the frost, takes the chill from the air, sets diamonds in the fresh snow, dispels the darkness.

There is always hope in the light.

The darkness causes chaos and panic, the light brings peace and calm.

Like the power outage on Black Friday.

Somewhere a transformer blew and we were left in utter darkness. Literally, for a brief moment, you could not see your hand in front of your face and the house was still and silent. Then panic rose and the children cried out. I told them to stay put and not to move anywhere until we got some light. My daughter grabbed her iPod and clicked it on and there was the tiniest wink of light and then we went in search of more flashlights and candles. There was a hyperactivity as the adrenaline kicked in, but once we had the house aglow there was a tranquil stillness and a soporific calmness despite the fear lurking in the shadows of the darkness. It led to a relaxing candle-lit bath and early retiring to bed. And just as we were blowing out the candles to bunker in for the night, the power was restored and the lights all blinked back on and the darkness vanished.

The light always makes the darkness vanish.

"At night Christ was born, a light in darkness; noonday turned to night when Christ suffered and died on the Cross. But in the dawn of Easter morning Christ rose in victory from the grave. Ere yet the dawn hath filled the skies Behold my Saviour Christ arise, He chaseth from us sin and night, And brings us joy and life and light. Hallelujah. ~Dietrich BonHoeffer 'Life Together'

In the morning light, with coffee in hand, I crack open to day 3 in The Greatest Gift and chew on the words from near the beginning of the story of how Adam and Eve hid. Their sin had exposed them and they were ashamed. God had told them that if they eat of the fruit of the tree in the midst of the garden, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they would surely die.

And in their hiding we see how they did. Away from God's presence they were lurking in the shadows, dead in the darkness of sin.

The only way to come to the Unapproachable Light was to respond to God calling them.

They hid. God called.

We would never seek God unless He called out to us first.

"He lives in light so brilliant that no human can approach him."

The ones who had been created to walk in the garden with Him, now hid ashamed and had no way to undo what had been done, no way back to Him.

It is our tendency - to hide, to cower in shame and the only way we can come to the Light is to heed His call.

And the Fathers of lights whom no human eye has seen graciously calls us to Him that we might be admitted into His presence once again.

He called Adam and Eve out of the shadows, covered their shame, and protected them from living in this permanent state away from God's presence with the glimmer of hope of the Light to come.

"The Word gave life to everything that was created, 

and his life brought light to everyone."

We have walked in darkness, but the Light came, and with Light, there is hope.







Linking with Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky as this was what I unwrapped this Tuesday. What did you unwrap today? Would love to hear about your Tuesday Unwrapped.

A Story for our Desperate Hearts: Love Came Down

The older two children dig out the advent calendar from the Rubbermaid and hang it on a nail under the clock that keeps on ticking, while the Little One wakes from a nap hot with fever. The countdown begins while her temperature creeps up.

I'm not ready for this season to begin. But they say time waits for no man.

I refuse to venture out into the hustle and bustle. I say no to the cookie exchange. We've had early snowstorms, and we're late with our decorations. I've got laundry strung on the banister instead of garland, only one batch of gingerbread baked and already eaten, and I dream of running from it all as fast I can right into the new year.

It's not that I'm all "Bah, humbug", but there's been something in the air that tells me something is going to be different this year. I just can't quite put my finger on it.

Heartaches and hurting relationships, boundaries and brokenness have a way of stealing happiness, but there is a joy that refuses to be snuffed out.

Black Fridays and burdens, never-ending pressures and promises not kept leave us grimacing, but not without grace.

The Sunrise from on high has set His foot on this soil.

He came as a babe, born in a stable, under the cover of darkness.

That we, who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, might be set on the bright path of peace.

There is a blindness in this world and only the Morning Light can restore our sight.

There is a debt in our lives and only the root and the descendant of David can redeem us from our sin.

There is a darkness in our souls and only the God of Salvation can renew in us a right spirit.

There is a depravity in humanity and only the Messiah can reconcile us to Himself.

Love came down.



My children question why they have friends who still believe in Santa as well as friends who blatantly say this season is pagan.

They see this strange dichotomy as Christmas lights shimmer in the darkest nights.

From one extreme to the other.



But what if we see Christmas as the love story that it really is.

"Christ came at just the right time."

God went to the extreme and His Son left the heights of heaven and Love came down.

In the children's storybook Bible we read the good news together:

" . . . A love story about a brave Prince who leaves his palace, his throne ~ everything ~ to rescue the ones he loves . . . The Story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them . . . And at the centre of the Story, there is a baby. Every Story in the Bible whispers his name. He is like the missing piece in a puzzle ~ the piece that makes all the other pieces fit together, and suddenly you can see a beautiful picture." {Sally Lloyd-Jones, 'The Jesus Storybook Bible'}

When we put the puzzle pieces together we prepare our hearts to see the Prince of Peace who has come to guide our feet in the way of peace.

Our hearts are dark and the only One who can create them anew is the Creator God who called light out of darkness.

Who created our hearts to bear the image of Him.

Who came as the Light into the darkness.

We count down the days. And we gaze up at the grace of it all.



There is still time to prepare our hearts to see.

As the fever breaks and the day dawns, and we are waiting for the coming, the Morning Star rises in our hearts, and opens our eyes afresh to the truth:

"In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and 

sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins."

There's a song in the air, and a beautiful story of the Sun of Righteousness who gives us light.

Preparing our Hearts for the Coming Light

Preparing our hearts for the One who has come and is coming again--

The Sunrise from on high, the Morning Light, 

God with us,

who guides our feet into the path of peace.

Our Hope in is the Coming of the Lord.