New Traditions Begin...

I love traditions.  I love old stuff.  I love really old stuff. 

When I was about 4 years old, my mother made some lovely wee stuffed Christmas ornaments using coloring book pages as patterns.  I ADORE those ornaments.  She passed them down to me a few years ago and they are proudly displayed on a white feather tree on our kitchen island.  The wee tree is topped with the angel that sat atop our family tree the entire time I was a little girl.  Along the way her arms fell off.  Mother was going to throw her away because she was "disabled."  I was  having none of that.  Our wee disabled angel came to live at my house and now guards the feather tree full of those coloring book ornaments. 

Traditions comfort me.  They remind me who I am, what I'm about, and what to expect in the future.

Santa doesn't deliver individual gifts around the tree at our house.  Since the time my baby boys were quite small, our tradition has been for Santa to deliver a big Santa bag for each boy.  Some of my favorite memories are of the boys as they crawled inside those huge bags so that only their feet and little rear ends showed.  My boys are now 20 and 24.  Just a couple years ago, I suggested wrapping the presents like normal families do it.  They were appalled that  I would even suggest such a thing!  Apparently the Santa bag will continue to be the normal for us. 

When I was a girl, we always had Christmas on Christmas Eve.  Daddy would take me out to see the Christmas lights all around the neighborhood and magically Santa had always just left when we returned.  I kept this tradition with my own boys.  Our normal Christmas even since the boys were born is to have supper with my parents, open gifts with them and then come home to have Christmas with just the 4 of us.  That tradition has served us well. 

This year we are making a wee tweak.  Adam got engaged to Bekah last Friday night and so we now have a girl to celebrate with and also additional family schedules to consider. I have asked that our family be able to claim Christmas eve as our special Christmas time. 

Tonight my parents are coming to our house instead of us going to their house.  That way the kids can arrive as they can after working, clean up and let the festivities begin.  Mother is bringing her jambalaya and I'm making a big pot of potato soup.  We have Irish Coffee Pie, Cracker Candy, and Sticky Toffee Pudding for dessert.  The plan is to make this a relaxing evening with no big dishes to prepare or clean up. 

Bekah will be joining our Christmas Eve celebration for the first time since she is now "official."  She will even have her very own stocking and Santa bag.  After 24 years in a house full of boys, we finally get a girl!!!  I'm super excited!  After presents and food, we will pop some popcorn and watch a movie together. 

In the morning my wee engaged boy will go celebrate with his future in-laws and then we will all gather together at Mom Smith's house for our traditional Smith family Christmas. 

I pray that you and your family will take a few minutes to reflect on the tiny King of the universe that arrived so many years ago on that first Christmas.  Whether it was actually in March, August or December, the point is that He came.  He lived.  He died for us and praise God, He is coming again.  Soon. 

May your Christmas traditions bring you joy and may you love those folks God gave you just a wee bit better in the coming year. 

Advent, December 14, Little Altar Boy

I am a life long fan of the Carpenters.  As a wee girl, I used my little red and white box record player to listen to Karen sing and learn the art of their lovely harmonies.  I've told many that Karen was my first vocal coach.

One of my favorite of their albums is "Christmas Portrait." Its full of classical music, contemporary and traditional carols sung by Karen and Richard.  Their tight harmonies and artful arrangements make for, in my opinion, perfect music.

One of the songs on this album is beautifully haunting.  "Little Altar Boy" is a plea to a child to pray for a sinner gone astray.  Our Lord asked us to be like little children.  If you have ever listened to a child's innocent prayers, you know they are unique, sacred, and precious.

Here are the lyrics of the song:

Little alter boy, I wonder could you pray for me?
Little alter boy, for I have gone astray
What must I do to be holy like you?
Little alter boy ,oh, let me hear you pray

Little alter boy, I wonder could you ask your Lord
Ask him, alter boy, to take my sins away
What must I do to be holy like you?
Little alter boy, oh, let me hear you pray

Lift up your voice and send a pray above
Help me rejoice and fill that prayer with love
Now I know my life has been all wrong
Lift my your voice and help a sinner be strong

Little alter boy, I wonder could you pray for me?
Could you tell our Lord I'm gonna change my ways today?
What must I do to be holy like you?
Little alter boy, oh, let me hear you pray
Little alter boy please let me hear you pray!

During this Advent season I encourage you to pray with your children, whatever their age.  We know without doubt that our Lord hears their tender voices, calling out to Jesus.  Their sweet words just might teach you a thing or two.  

Jesus, come quickly, 

Kelley

 

Advent, December 11, The Same Direction

Consider Jeremiah 17:5-8
Thus says the Lord,
“Cursed is the man who trusts in mankind
And makes flesh his strength,
And whose heart turns away from the Lord. 
 “For he will be like a bush in the desert
And will not see when prosperity comes,
But will live in stony wastes in the wilderness,
A land of salt without inhabitant. 
 “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord
And whose trust is the Lord.
“For he will be like a tree planted by the water,
That extends its roots by a stream
And will not fear when the heat comes;
But its leaves will be green,
And it will not be anxious in a year of drought
Nor cease to yield fruit. 

As we wait in this season of Advent, its important to notice who or what we wait on.  Jeremiah tells us what happens when we wait on the wrong thing or person.   And praise God, he also shares with us what happens when we wait on the proper person.  The Lord.  

Last night while thumbing through Facebook I noticed that someone I love just got a divorce.  I sat with that for a few minutes and then thought back over the year.  This has been the year of divorce apparently.  I counted 9 couples that I know who have gone through divorce in 2015.  My heart has broken for each one of these families.   

John and I have been through some knee deep piles of poo in our married life.  We've hated each other.  Not just the "I don't like you" kind of hate, but the, "If a car hits you I don't think I'd care" kind of hate. We have been terrible to each other.  We have acted in ways that have brought shame to ourselves, our boys, our parents, our extended family, and even our friends.  Most of all we brought shame to our God. Our hearts were "turned away from the Lord."  We lived in a  "stony waste in the wilderness."  

It took desperate measures to wake us up.  Those desperate measures were linked to holding on tight to the Lord.  That sounds corny I know, but its truth.  When we, as a couple, turned and faced Jesus together, things changed.  Life changed.  The barren, dry landscape where I waited each day for the next shoe to drop turned into a land full of life.  I won't lie.  It took a while.  A long, long while.  But together we chose to wait on the Lord together.  


During this season of Advent look to your spouse,  family, and friends and make a decision to wait upon the Lord together.  Its so much easier when we are all faced the same direction.  

Jesus, come quickly.  

Kelley

Advent, December 10, A Pin Prick of Light.

Consider Psalm 63:1-8 (NASB)

O God, You are my God; I shall seek You earnestly;
My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You,
In a dry and weary land where there is no water.
Thus I have seen You in the sanctuary,
To see Your power and Your glory.
Because Your loving kindness is better than life,
My lips will praise You.
So I will bless You as long as I live;
I will lift up my hands in Your name.
My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatness,
And my mouth offers praises with joyful lips.

When I remember You on my bed,
I meditate on You in the night watches

For You have been my help,
And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.

My soul clings to You;
Your right hand upholds me.

I read these Psalms for years and never understood them. They seemed far too deep for a simpleton like me.   

Then life took some severe turns in my forties.  My marriage fell apart.  I was diagnosed with an incurable illness.  My best friend of over 30 years was diagnosed with stage 3C ovarian cancer.  Then she died. I had read about "rock bottom."  I thought I knew what it was.  I did not.  

My experience at rock bottom nearly killed me.  Because of the disease I have, stress exacerbates all the symptoms. My heart was broken in so many jagged pieces I feared they would never be gathered together in one place again, much less put back together in their proper order.  My body was (and continues to be) in pain.  I had to close my photography business because my body simply would not cooperate. 

And then there was Angie.  Her illness and death sent me into a deep level of darkness.  Crying was my new normal.  I did not want to celebrate any part of life or holidays.  It seemed disrespectful to dare celebrate when she was gone. I clung to her memory so tight I almost squeezed all the joy out of it.  I was terrified of forgetting her. 

It was at the bottom of this pit I curled into a ball and wished for the end to come.  But one day,  I looked up and saw a small pin prick sized light far in the distance.  All else in my life was dark and sad.  I was not sure what the tiny light was, but it seemed good and right. I would sit and stare toward that tiny light.  Psalms would bubble up to my memory.  Taking out my bible I could relate to the manic nature of David in ways I had never experienced before.  

Each day as I meditated on that small light, it became bigger and the darkness became less frightening.  Instead of solid black, it began to lighten to a shade of gray.  These times of meditation and prayer are what saved me from succumbing to the sadness.  

During the quiet of Advent, look for that light.  No matter what is going on with your personal life or in this chaotic world, focus on the light.  Hold on tight, find comfort in his mighty right hand, and enjoy the shadow of His wings.  

Jesus, come quickly. 

Kelley     

Advent, Dec. 9, Who, Not What

I've always hated razor-edged focus directed on me.  I had dinner with some friends last evening and we discussed the horror at having "Happy Birthday" sung to us.  As one friend pointed out, "What are you supposed to do while they are singing?"  As I grew older, I learned to enjoy attention from time to time, but it has never felt great to me.  I suppose my life is a study in extremes.  Most people would assume I enjoy very social situations, when the truth is... I do not.  And I like it less as I get older.  

I still hate celebrating birthdays, not because I don't like growing older, but because I hate all the attention focused in my direction.  I'd prefer to let birthdays slip right past me with no bru-ha-ha.

I love to sing, but hate singing by myself in front of people with all the attention on me.  I like to sing in groups where I can pretend no one is looking at me. I love to have large groups at my house.  I love to watch other people having fun at my house.  Generally you'll find me in the kitchen working or moving from table to table making sure everyone has what they need.  I rarely even eat when people are at my house for a meal. I prefer to serve than be served.

In my 30s I absolutely adored big, over the top worship experiences filled with ridiculously talented, enviable singers, within well orchestrated services.  That spoke to me. (Notice what I just said there) I loved contemporary worship songs and styles that were brimming with high emotions. At the time I could convince myself that I was truly worshiping when all the "right elements" were involved.  Actually I now believe that I wasn't worshiping my Father at all.  I was just worshiping the experience.  It's easier to worship the experience than it is to get real and be with God.  It is incredibly easy to worship WHAT speaks to us, instead of  WHO speaks to us. 

You see, God isn't in the lights, the music, the well orchestrated service, the power point presentations, or the talent singers.   He is in the quiet, still atmosphere of the calm soul that longs for Him.

Consider I Kings 19:11-13 (NASB)

And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voice unto him, and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?

Today, during this holy season of quiet waiting and anticipation, let the introvert side of your soul cry out to Jesus.  It will cry softly and tenderly.  It will be there waiting for you to be quiet enough for God to feed you and love you.  Don't settle for a worship service of WHAT.

Jesus, come quickly.

Kelley 

Advent, December 8

Today's Advent thoughts are quite short, but profound.  Let's consider Matthew 2:11 (NASB)

After coming into the house they (the Magi) saw the Child with Mary His mother; and they fell to the ground and worshiped Him. Then, opening their treasures, they presented to Him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
  
When confronted with the Christ child, the Magi reacted in the only responses worthy of such a child.  They fell to ground, worshiped Him, and brought gifts.  

Today, this very day, you are confronted with the Christ child.  He came to us as a baby and will return to us again as a King above all kings.  

How do you respond today?  This very minute.  Do you shun Him for a more convenient  time, or do you immediately worship Him and bring Him gifts.  The choice is yours.  

Jesus, come quickly.  

Kelley

 

Advent, December 7, Your Calling

Again, I must beg apologies for not posting yesterday.  My body has not been cooperating with me in the past few days.  I have been having a lot of pain issues and couldn't climb the stairs to the office yesterday afternoon.  If you have room on your prayer list, please pray for me and all those with Dysautonomia. 

On to Advent! 

December 7, 1941 will forever be known as Pearl Harbor Day.  "A day that will live in infamy." 

Several years ago, I was blessed to go to Hawaii with my husband.  He was working at Pearl Harbor and I was there for the glorious beauty of the island of Oahu. One morning we both headed to "Pearl" as they call it.  He went for work; I went for remembrance.  I wasn't prepared for the waves of emotions that flooded my soul. 

My little tour group loaded up in a boat and headed to the USS Arizona Memorial.  When we disembarked to the memorial, there were several elderly gentlemen waiting in the line with us.  As we approached the wall of names of those who died that day, I looked to my left and noticed an elderly gentlemen silently weeping.  He had taken off his military cap and held it over his heart.  A younger woman was standing next to him, her nose was shaped like his, so I assumed it was his daughter or granddaughter.  She was holding his hand and patting his arm.  He looked to have been the age to have served during that time.

I almost choked on the enormous lump that settled deep in my throat.  His anguish draped around him as the tears quietly flowed.  Looking out over the water, I noticed that oil still seeps out from the old ship, the under water tomb of so many young men.  God bless those young men.  Most never saw the attack coming.  Some lived for a long time waiting for a rescue that never came. 

Being called to serve is easy for some, but for others requires more of a commitment.  To serve in the military, one must be willing to give their life for their country.  During this season of my life, I feel called to write.  That calling doesn't bring any danger or risk.  My calling is easy. 

Let's consider Matthew 1:19-21 (NASB)

And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man and not wanting to disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly. But when he had considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the Child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a Son; and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.”

The calling of Mary and Joseph is more than my mind can take in.  These two young people had to put every ounce of faith into the dreams they experienced, their love for one another, their confidence in each other, and most importantly their faith and confidence in the God they served.  This calling required their reputation to be questioned and even their sanity.  Can you just imagine?  Sure.  You are a virgin.  AND you are pregnant.  BUT the God of the universe is the Father.  Right.....

The soldiers of Pearl Harbor honored their calling to serve their country.  Mary and Joseph honored their calling to serve their God.  It's your turn now.  

What are you called to do?  Are you actively working in that calling?  What can you do to answer the call?  

Jesus, come quickly.

Kelley