December 2005
Shedding Some Dead Skin
Again
12/3/2005
8:08:45 PM
Today we burned the pile of twigs,
limbs, and leaves that have gathered since the bonfires which purged our ravaged
land of the remnants of Katrina and Rita months ago. If you’ve never roasted
weenies in the evening hours before dusk, you are missing a unique treat. Sure,
there is nothing like a roaring bonfire in the darkness, friends and family
gathered around the flickering light, as the shadows dance and the pine needles
sing in the glowing heat. However, in the fading daylight hours, the fire takes
on a whole different dimension. There are no shadows along the fringes of the
circle of weenie wielding revelers, but the shining embers of the coals pierce
through the black soot beneath the flames like orange eyes emerging from the
darkness. Especially in the winter, you can witness the twirling eddies that are
formed as the energy released by the heat of the fire darts into the cold air
being sucked into the oxygen-starved flames. Like hundreds of mini-hurricanes,
these eddies chase their tails like nervous cats, kicking up dust and crumbled
leaves in a mini-path of destruction. The heated acorns pop like canons throwing
tufts of soot and shrapnel of shell fragments onto the weenie roasting
battlefield. At night, the heat of the flames and the sounds of the fire
dominate the experience; during the day, the sights compete with the sounds to
enhance the touch of the fire against one’s skin.
There is something cleansing about a fire. It removes the
unsightly leftovers of our lives. Still, we can’t eliminate the memories of the
tragic hurricanes just by burning away the evidence. When winter comes and the
world sheds its dying skin to make room for the new growth beneath the surface,
we can’t ignore its implication by consuming the reminders of our mortality in a
conflagration of ignorance. We must live every day with zeal and passion. We
must learn from our mistakes and our sorrows and remain humble in our successes
and our joys. We must celebrate the new adventures of our lives and honor the
old embers that are fading. Do not be afraid of the fire, either in daylight or
at night, for its cleansing power is necessary for tomorrow’s
growth.
Her
Lighthouse!
12/6/2005
6:19:08 AM
Christmas shopping time again! I know,
I know...most of you have probably already found all of those special gifts for
all of those special people. I just don't seem to have that shopping gene. More
often that not, I do not even start planning for Christmas gifts until a couple
days before the unveiling. I have actually done all of my Christmas shopping for
the nieces and nephews from the discount spinning rack of cheap toys at our
local 7-11 checkout line. Seriously! Sometimes, I've been known to give one of
the girls from my youth group a couple of twenty dollar bills and send them into
the local Wal-Mart on a mission to buy for my entire family. The crazy thing is
that my gifts are usually some of the best-liked, too. Anyway, I've been looking
for lighthouse stuff for Laura this year. Lighthouses are her thing. She loves
them. Because she loves them, she has just about exhausted the supply out there.
She has them on her knick-knack shelf, her shower curtains, he wallpaper, her
keychain, etc... You get the point. I don't know the attraction, but I do love
to look at pictures of real lighthouses. I am trying to be creative this year to
get just the right gift. Will that prove I love her more? Today, however, my
focus has been altered some. A friend of mine sent me an email today. She was
thanking me for the encouragement I've given her. She was telling me that I was
a shining light for God to others out there who are looking for a safe harbor in
a storm. Then she said this one thing: "...you are a beacon. Laura, in her
wisdom and love of lighthouses, married one." I was touched. Flabbergasted,
actually. She could not have paid me a better compliment. I had the thought that
of all the lighthouses Laura has collected over the years, I am her prized,
trophy treasure. Maybe I'll just tell that to Laura for Christmas this year.
Along with another lighthouse gift or two, of
course.
Just Thinking
12/8/2005
7:06:12 AM
The weather outside is frightful--by
O Holy Night
12/10/2005
8:07:54 AM
We truly miss the point about the
whole manger scene thing. The nostalgia and fuzziness we feel as we gaze
contently through our window upon the well-lighted crèche in our front yard,
sipping cups of apple cider while snacking on Christmas cookies, in no way
resembles the “feelings” of those present at that scene the day Christ was born.
We have grown up appreciating the beauty of the manger scene. Little statues of
Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, shepherds, angels, wise men, and animals have become
icons of our faith. Somehow, we have lost the reality of that moment. A family
traveling under great duress is caught at night with no place to find shelter.
All that is available to them is a stinky, filthy stable to block the elements.
Good luck with that. Stables aren’t exactly built air tight. At best, the
shelter only slowed down the rush of cold wind that pummeled them relentlessly.
Have you ever tried to sleep on a bail of hay? The dried grass pokes you and
scratches you mercilessly. I never will forget the time we had some brought in
for our Christmas play, and everyone kept complaining that the hay was getting
all over them and driving them crazy. That the smell was ruining the play. Well,
hay from a stable is full of all sorts of unmentionables: Dried dung and animal
hair to mention just a few. You could imagine what it would be like to be forced
to gather up hands full of it, pack it into a feeding trough, and lay your
newborn baby onto it. With no baby clothes available, she ripped the edges of
something from her bag, or perhaps the very dress she was wearing, and wrapped
him up as tight as she could. We sing about those “swaddling clothes” so
longingly. I understand our passion for that night. I thank God for peace on
earth and good will towards men. But something is missing in the translation
over the years. Let the imagery of that night hold its true form. The King of
Glory humbled Himself to become the very least among us in order to become the
greatest among us. We celebrate the child who was born that day. Not the manger.
Not the hay. Not the swaddling clothes. Despite those things, a Savior was born
who saved His people from their sins.
Still
Shopping
12/12/2005
7:51:02 AM
I am stumped. I can't seem to settle
on just what to get Laura for Christmas. Seems I can't count that new toilet I
just bought her from Lowe's. I got it installed and ready for service the other
day. She was thrilled. No, really, she was. So I thought I was set for
Christmas. The feedback I am getting from my friends and family is that a toilet
is not a proper Christmas gift for your wife. I must come up with something
better. Something more romantic. Well, a toilet may not be very romantic, but it
certainly is practical. And it's the sort of gift she'll use every day. She'll
think of me often, right? Anyway, I guess I've still got some Christmas shopping
to do.
God's Little
Cherub
12/15/2005
6:44:22 AM
There is this tiny little cherub of a
child who is brought to church by her grandparents. She's gorgeous. Sometimes
she decides to preach to the congregation while I'm preaching, but that is what
babies do. Last night, before service, I was cooing at her when she pointed at
me and said my name. Twice. I was thrilled. I was just beside myself. I couldn't
stop telling everyone that she had called me by name. She seems way too small to
even know my name. I was overwhelmed that her little mind was thinking of me. I
remembered that feeling this morning when I began to pray, calling on the Name
of the Lord. It made me wonder if somehow, someway, He was just as thrilled as I
had been last night when He heard me calling out His Name. I'm no cherub. But I
am His child. Does He get excited when we call His
Name?
Christmas
Miracle
12/20/2005
6:40:59 AM
Well, I wouldn't call it a miracle,
exactly. But it turns out the entire family will be getting together for
Christmas this year afterall. It looked like we would have fractured gatherings
during the Christmas weekend totalling the entire family experience, but
circumstances have developed that present us with a window of opportunity the
day after Christmas at about noon. So all the brothers and my sister, with their
families in tow, will be at mom's house, eating Christmas gumbo, chili, or
lasagna, tearing into presents, as a couple of dueling video cameras jocky for
position. It sounds so cliche', but it's one of the most amazing moments of the
year for me. My Christmas is going to be merry. My prayer today is that yours is
too.
Tragedy
12/22/2005
5:30:09 PM
There was a tragedy today. A seventeen
year old boy was killed in an accident with a gun. He grew up in our children's
programs at Maranatha. He was a sensitive, sweet kid. He was all boy, too. It
was really strange how he managed to pull both of those things off. Him mother
is a mess. His dad is on his way home from the job off-shore in the oil patch.
They will never be the same. I will never be the same. These things change us. I
didn't know what to say to anyone today. I'm still processing this myself. I
heard one young teen speaking to the boy's little brother who is about fifteen
years old. She hugged him and told him that "he's in a better place now." That
struck me like a blow to my gut. We usually reserve those sort of words for the
elderly or the infirmed who die after much pain and suffering. The factual
nature of the statement remains. Yet, it simply didn't seem to fit when she said
it about the seventeen year old boy who has been taken so suddenly from this
world. I am on my way back to speak with the mom and dad. God give me strength
to bring them comfort somehow in this horrible
tragedy.
Finally, Perhaps, Some
Christmas
12/27/2005
6:36:16 AM
Finally, maybe I will get some actual
Christmas going today. Even though we rushed through our traditional family
gathering last night, we were all just too exhausted to feel the ambiance. We
had just rushed from the grave side service at the cemetery. What a funeral that
was! Almost a thousand people, half of them teens, gathered at one of our
community's largest churches to pay their respects. During my message, I was
intent on telling personal stories that each of them could relate to. It was
important to make them smile and laugh. That is exactly how Sid Alexander would
have wanted it. Afterwards, during the procession, it was torturous. The family
was hugged and consoled by nearly everyone who had attended. I was exhausted
myself from just shaking hands and giving hugs as I stood at the head of Sid's
casket. The procession lasted almost an hour, but it seemed even longer. By the
time I finally made it back to mom's house, everyone was tired and irritable. We
did it all: The Christmas story, the presents, the eating. Maybe the kids
enjoyed it. But the part of Christmas that I love the most will happen today.
Sitting aroud with my brother and his family talking, laughing, and remembering.
Maybe I'll even extend my Christmas eating grace period to make the pleasure
complete. I could sure use some Christmas
today.
Motivation
12/29/2005
7:53:55 AM
My neices are so precious. You'd just
have to hang around with them to understand. They begged me to go outside with
them yesterday. As we walked around, I figured I'd get them busy by asking them
to pick up acorns for me. I told them there was a family of poor squirrels at my
house who needed some food. That didn't seem to motivate them much to help me
out. They groaned and moaned until I told them I'd give them each five dollars
if they picked up a basket full. So they dived into it. As they worked, I
explained how a poor family of squirrels at my house would be very happy to get
a good meal for Christmas. Alysa said, "I love helping out." Amanda responded,
"I love five dollars." I couldn't stop
laughing.