Wandering and Whining in the Wilderness

Reading the introduction to Numbers in my Lutheran Study Bible, this phrase smacked me right-dab-in-the-middle of my forehead...  "wandering and whining in the wilderness."  The author is referring to the Israelites waaaaay back in the day.  But it might as well be describing me for the past few months.

Where, oh where, has my dedication and devotion gone?  I could muse about this for days.  Thankfully, I hear God calling me to him instead.  "Forget then.  Let's focus on now.  Gather your scattered focus and sit awhile at my feet.  Hear my words.  Feel my love.  Start new.  Now.  Today."

With a deep, restful, peace-filled sigh, I do.

And this is what I find: Right from the get go in Numbers, God creates order in the wilderness.  In calling Moses and Aaron to conduct a census of Israel, he numbers the men of each tribe and delegates their roles.  The Levite men are to serve as priests; the men of the other tribes are to defend the nation.  He counts each head and provides purpose.  He even sets forth a specific plan for a camp.  Goodbye chaos.

Here is my hope: spiritual order amidst chaos, faithful pattern rising from randomness, higher purpose in the wilderness.

Lord God, you know my personal wilderness.  My summer days are strewn with activities and adventure, pulling my family here and there and everywhere but your presence.  My wanderings wind through job opportunities and finding the proper fit, through my kids' needs and wants and ambitions, through weekends away and weekdays swaying in laundry, packing, cleaning, and carpooling.  My whining is about the kids' whining about their siblings' whining which makes me want to drown in a large, lush glass of... yes... wine.

God, you are with me in my wilderness, and we laugh together about how small these worries and wanderings and whinings are in the whole scheme of things.  You promise order.  Purpose.  Counting of what counts.  Calling to a higher cause.  Help me to quiet my body and my mind to hear your higher plan.  Help me to turn my focus from the wildness of these earthly whirlpools, and focus on your wondrous will instead.

Thank you, God.  You are so very, very good.  Thank you for your patience with my wandering and my whining.  Thank you for your never-wavering love which pulls me out of the wilderness.  Thank you for counting me and claiming me and calling to me, until I pause and listen and truly hear what you have to say.

Amen.

All I Want for Christmas...

You know the song; sing along...

All I want for Christmas is my sanity, 

some peace of mind, 

God's peace in my heart. 

All I want for Christmas is the grace of God, 

all wrapped up in a humble babyyyyyyyy...

But here is what I'm getting myself into so far this Christmas season:

• Special orders (thank you God and generous customers!) that are coming together more slowly than I'd like
• Christmas concerts in triplicate (yay!  Can't wait for "Peace, Peace" and the annual tears of joy and humbled, quaking, grateful heart)
• Visions of cookies to bake + worries over when we'll make them and deliver them to neighbors and friends (yummm...)
• Gatherings and fellowship at church and away times five and counting (I've got the joy joy joy joy down in my heart!)
• Familial gatherings with loved ones and carols and big happy hugs times five and counting (does it get any better than this?)
• Crochet and sewing and knitting projects in progress (one down, three on needles, two to go)
• Christmas cards in transit, pens in waiting for personalized messages (yes, we are stubbornly holding on to this old-fashioned and increasingly rare tradition out of love and affection for our family and friends)
• One box of Christmas village decorations still waiting to adorn the piano (but the tree is up and decorated!!)
• Nerves stretched thin and "to do" lists littering the house (Aiyiyiyiyiiiii!)

I thought I'd jot all that down and get it off my chest so I can release a little yuletide anxiety.  It's going to take more than that.  Time for prayer!

Oh, Lord.

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy.  Are you laughing at me yet?  How I always say I'm going to do less to make Christmas more in my heart?  And here I am, as busy and frantic as ever?  What a fool I am.  A foolish Christmas fool. 

Here's the only explanation I have: I am nutty in love with Christmas, and not just the trimmings and trappings and carols and cookies.  I am totally gaga over your gift: a little babe, born in a rustic stable, laid in a lowly manger.  Humble.  Vulnerable.  Coming to the world not in a burst of pomp and circumstance, just wrapped in love and miracle and hope.  Not for the leaders and the elite and the intelligentsia, but for everyone.  Every one of us.  Coming not to wield political power or military might, but to forgive, to love, to save.  Not for an earthly kingdom, rich and royal, but for a heavenly home, doors wide open to every believer.

It makes no sense.  You, God Almighty, coming into the world as a poor but perfect human, to walk with us and live with us and love us no matter what.  There is no other story — no other truth — that moves my heart and builds my faith like this one.

So forgive me for spinning crazy on Christmas.  Slow me down and center me, so that I can thoughtfully, meaningfully share this good gift of yours with my loved ones.  When I get nutty, nestle me in your peace.  When I'm going giddy gonzo, rest me in your grace.  When the words of the world — the "I should"s and "I need to"s and "Aiiiiyiyiyiiiii!"s — cloud my brain, clear my thoughts with your living Word.

These verses, in particular, give my heart a place to rest this Advent Season.  Thank you for putting them right in front of my eyes and writing them on my heart.

Amen.

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people.  It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. 

Titus 2:11-14

God's grace

It is a free gift, no strings attached.

offers salvation 

He saves us, redeems us, fills our wholes and makes us holy.

to all people

He comes for every one of us, no matter how battered, how badly behaving, how ignored or endangered.

teaches us to say "No" to worldly passions

This includes the hustle and bustle and buying and busy-ing of contemporary Christmas.

It is time for self control!

to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age

Christmas is not for me to control or orchestrate; it is God's and God's alone.  My role is that of self-control, to limit what crowds out God so that come Christmas Eve there is plenty of room in the inn of my heart for the Christ child to reside and renew my soul.

while we wait

If I fill up my time and space with Christmas activity, am I really waiting?  I need some moments of stillness and silence, moments of empty before Christ fills, as only he can.

the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ

This captures Christmas for me — God appears on Earth, here with us, in human form as Jesus Christ.

who gave himself for us

And here we look to Easter, the second part of God's gift.  His presence among us on Earth is eclipsed only by his death and resurrection for us so we can abide eternally with God in Heaven.

to redeem us from all wickedness 

He saves us from all our faults and imperfections.  We can't do it, but he can, and he wants to, and he does.  Every day.

to purify for himself a people that are his own, eager to do what is good 

So, God, keep filling me with this eagerness, and provide me with the discernment to see the good that I should do and avoid the nice-but-not-necessary that clutters my Christmas heart.  Help me to respond to your good glory by glorifying you with good works... today and every day.  Again, Amen.

28 | It doesn't have to be Ideal to be Enjoyed

I'm kind of obsessed with time right now... seasons, moments... they all fly by.  Yesterday's prayer/post about paring down is gnawing at me.  God is nudging me.  So I pray some more on this...

Dear Lord,

I'm catching myself trying to jam so much into so few minutes each day.  It's the prep for the church bazaar, the squeeze of homework, piano practice, lunch assembly,  choir, tutoring.  It's the wanting to milk every precious moment I have with my kids and my family.  Wanting to milk the precious periods of productivity when the kids are at school and the hubby is at work and the dog is freshly walked and tired.

Full disclosure: this is not my calendar.  But as I look at it I think, "Gee, I should make hearts and magnets and bookmarks!"  Sick and twisted, yes I am.

Cram.  Cram.  Cram.  Like my modus operandi for cleaning my room at the clever age of seven.  Shove it all under the bed.  Every last living thing that was precious to me.  Art projects, favorite outfits I couldn't bear to put in the laundry for a day, stuffed animals, books, found treasures (my mother's junk), more found treasures (my sister's treasures, borrowed indefinitely), the cat, for as long as he would stay put.  There.  Like magic, space appeared for playing and living and sleeping in my bedroom.  Order reigned.  But only if I ignored the pile spilling out from under my bed.  And that was hard to do, given the '70s modern design, sleek and bare and no bedskirt...

Lord, like my seven-year-old self, I'm enjoying a crammed life right now.  Yes, truly enjoying.  I mostly don't mind the mess (though my Mr. undoubtedly does).  I love the stuff that's stuffed into my days; I'm thankful for the ways you provide and inspire and call me to serve.  It's all good.  So good that I have a hard time letting some of it go.  But the minimalist in me does still crave simpler days.  Space to breathe.  White space that lets the eye rest, the mind ponder.  A place to be still with you.

Two sides of my personality tug.  Passions vs. paring down.  Does it have to be a battle, Lord?  I hear you whispering...

This busyness is a fleeting season.  Compared to a glorious eternity in heaven, this is a moment, a glimpse.  Like the mental snapshot of my messy, silly childhood.  This crammed full time is a time to savor.  It doesn't have to be ideal to be enjoyed.

As this prayer unfolds I feel your peace.  Deep.  Hugging my heart.  Tickling my toes.  For nearly everything in my days these days points back to you, to your gifts.  You are there in the grace boxes I'm making, the "give thanks" banners I'm crafting.  You are there in the patience I'm practicing with kids homework and piano.  You are there in my Bible-infused quiet time, compressed yet sustaining.  There in the prayers.  In the logistical discussions with my mister.  The volunteering at church, at school, in the community.  

The simplicity — the paring down — will come.  It may be another season, another stage.  But it can also happen now.  The simplicity comes from quieting my mind, my soul.  The simplicity comes from breathing in the spaces I do have.  Lord help me to do this.  Help me to breathe in your love and breathe out your peace.  Breathe in your omnipresent positivity and breathe out prayers.  The simplicity lives in focusing on you.

Thank you, Lord, for being my breath today.  Thank you for filling me with peace.

Amen.