The Shepherds, The Wise Men, and The Rest of Us

Throughout Advent, I’ve been pondering Immanuel, or “God with us” and about how True Love came to stay. In my previous post, I shared how I’m discovering that living with God is about receiving His love one day at a time. Actually, I knew that before, but apparently life requires relearning.

I spent four weeks prayerfully arranging our nativity set as an Advent-long devotion. I read and considered what each Christmas character says about Immanuel. It wasn’t a perfect study, but I was readier for Christmas than I’ve been in a long time.

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The Donkey

Photo by Jeff Brown

So far in our Advent story, we’ve been traveling back and forth from Nazareth to Bethlehem, so it’s only fair that we give the donkey a nod.

Donkeys, a common mode of transportation in Biblical times, are hard working and trainable. They can handle rough terrain and heavy loads. Sounds like a perfect ride for 90 miles, a pregnant wife, and a tight schedule.

Donkeys have been carrying burdens long before that trip to Bethlehem. One donkey joined Abraham and Isaac on their heartbreaking hike toward an impossible sacrifice.

And a donkey walked with Moses on his nervous trip to Egypt for convincing Pharaoh to let God’s people go.

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Mary

Photo by Jeff Brown

Now that the stable and animals are in place, The Story takes us about 90 miles northwest to Nazareth, in the northern highlands of Galilee. There, we find a teenage girl. A virgin who was visited by the angel Gabriel and told she would become pregnant with the Son of God. Mary, the one who agreed to it all.

Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

Luke 1:38

I doubt Mary knew the full extent to what she was agreeing, but I’d bet she knew enough. At her age, it’s likely she’d seen enough of childbirth to know of the fear, pain, and blood. She certainly had experienced enough of human nature and gossip to predict the shame. She surely understood it would be easy for Joseph to abandon her. She had probably learned enough of God’s Story to know that entering it would be costly.

Mary said yes to much more than a baby. Like all consenting mothers, she grabbed her chance for possibility and promise, even when it came with risk, suffering, and lots of mystery.

And isn’t that how it goes with every Yes to God? God comes with His strange, shadowed plans and somehow we agree. Are we really that desperate?

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People Are Sick

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People are sick.

In just my circle of friends, there is celiac disease, diverticulitis, diabetes, heart conditions, thyroid disease, or stage 4 cancer.

Almost every disease story begins with symptoms, but my friends remind me that symptoms aren’t symptoms until you know.

Diabetes is I’m just really thirsty.

Diverticulitis is It was something I ate.

Heart palpitations must be Simply a patch of anxiety.

And cancer is I must have the flu.

Until we know. Continue reading

A Woman in Leadership

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Since being in a leadership role at my church, a question I’m frequently asked is: “What’s it like being a woman in leadership?” It almost always catches me off-guard, but I’m quickly reminded of what my role must look like from a distance.

Many days, I’m often the only one at meetings without a Y chromosome. As the first woman in my position, I had to be approved by a roomful of suits. I have an office, a title, and a team.

But I really don’t feel like a leader, to be honest. Maybe because I’m still relatively new in my role. Maybe because I was promoted from within and my co-workers are also my long-time friends. Maybe because the word “leader” seems to imply that I should know where to go, what to do, and how. I don’t.

Sometimes I get caught up in “improving my leadership skills”. I read the blogs and listen to the podcasts about “casting a vision” and “inspiring the team”. Apparently, I’m supposed to think more about “empowerment” and “innovation”. Occasionally, I take notes and make flow-charts. I set agendas and SMART goals. And eventually, I make myself sick… Continue reading

Blessed Unassurance

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I used to know things. I mean really know them. As a child, I knew dads got ready for work while kids watched The Lone Ranger at 6:00am. I knew moms always bought girls new outfits for picture day. I knew homework would be returned with a star and a smiley face from the teacher.

I also had a solid grasp on marriage and parenting, but that was way before I had a husband and kids.

Then, as an adult, there were other things I became so sure about: Continue reading

The Irony of Saying So

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On Sunday, my pastor preached from Psalm 107 and challenged us to more boldly tell our personal experiences of God’s goodness. We are “the redeemed of the Lord”, he reminded us, “let us say so.”

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
for his steadfast love endures forever!
Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,
whom he has redeemed from trouble

“We need to share our stories”, he said, “because there are plenty of folks who need to hear about a good God.”

We listened from our pews. We shook our heads and took notes. I noticed some folks even cried. The redeemed-est, I guessed. Continue reading

When Real Life Sneaks Into Sunday School

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I’m a licensed and experienced teacher, mom of four, former homeschooler, and have taught Sunday school too many times to count.

And I’m actually nervous about this week’s elementary lesson.

The scheduled text is on Peter and the Beggar. It’s the story where Peter and John approach the temple to pray and meet a beggar at the gate. They heal him in the name of Jesus, and send him off  “walking and leaping and praising God.”

I’ve taught this group several times. I’ve even presented this story before. But like all teachers , I’m anticipating my students’ questions, and this is where the nerves are kicking in…

I’m imagining a few raised hands this week… Continue reading

When the Pew is Just Too Hard

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At the Call to Worship, I stood and sighed.

The calendar was on its last page and I was on my last leg, tired from holiday prep, tired from my work, and honestly, too tired for church.

Don’t get me wrong… I love my job. I love ministry. I love my church. But there are times when the pew is just too hard.

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In the Company of Cast and Crew

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Theologian Stanley Hauerwas argues that to truly learn a story, we must act it out.

In my experience, Hauerwas is spot-on, but I’d like to apply his theory a step further. I believe the real, most-important learning comes not only from the acting out, but in the company of the actors.

Every Christmas at pageant time, the kids act and I direct, but it’s the company that changes us. The kids come to that first rehearsal either struggling against or showing off their part. They come clutching their scripts and focused on their own small scene.

No, we can’t have the shepherds use a GPS to find the manger. No, you can’t ask Joseph if he made a reservation. No, the Angel of the Lord can’t wear a gun and holster…

The irony isn’t lost on me that I’m the one who must lead them. Continue reading

2017: Off and On

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Man, I didn’t write much this year. And I can feel the effects of that, for sure.

Ever since childhood, I’ve turned to pen and paper for organizing, processing, and expressing my thoughts and feelings. Each day of every year brings many words, and I do better when I pay attention to them; helping them to find their place so I can find mine. Next year, I vow to pay closer attention…

But I hold on loosely, asking God to make me just as content to receive words as I am to offer them.

Though it’s meager, here is my 2017 offering -or its highlights, anyway: Continue reading

If I Had a Hammer

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All he wanted to do was hammer something.

Eli* wasn’t a regular church-goer and wasn’t sure how to find the book of Galatians in his Bible, but he heard there might be an opportunity to build things, so he signed up.

“When are we going to build stuff?” he asked as we settled in for our group devotion.

“Soon,” I said, but I wasn’t sure. Not at all. We were barely 24 hours into the youth-group service trip when I realized things were out of our control. Our group was randomly split up at lunch, placed in prayer groups with people we didn’t know, and assigned to various work-sites without our consent. Clearly, we weren’t in charge.  Continue reading

GNO: Debbie Doriani’s Favorite Things

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I am Debbie Doriani, wife of Dan Doriani for 40 years and mother to 3 grown daughters.  Since I am married to my favorite speaker who gives my favorite sermons, I will not choose that topic.  By God’s gracious blessing, the favorite speaker has been able to take me on fabulous travels around the world to accompany him on his speaking trips, so that topic is out as well. Here are my favorites, although you should know there are way too many to enumerate and they overlap considerably. Continue reading

GNO: Susan Maynor’s Favorite Things

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I am the mother of two tender young warriors (middle school and high school), wife to a scientist (high-school/college chemistry teacher), and a child of the gracious, living God. I love to produce visual stories, develop new ideas to transform the learning experience, and inspire creativity to make the world more beautiful. Continue reading

When You Just Need A Little Honesty

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If you’re like me, you try hard to remain positive, look on the bright side, and count your blessings.

But some days, you just can’t  …

I’ll never forget one day during my student-teaching in a second grade classroom. Early in the year, one student, a stringy-haired boy with scabby knees, was having a bad day. He eventually crawled under a table and refused to come out. I was eager to prove myself to the lead teacher, so I rushed across the room to coax him.

None of my persuading was working:

“Come on out, you’re missing all the fun! Your friends are looking for you at the Craft Corner. You are so good at reading…!”  In fact, the more I talked, the further under the table he scooted.

Finally, the veteran teacher walked over, asked me to keep an eye on the rest of the class, and did something that changed me forever… (more…)

Living Liturgy

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A few weeks ago, my oldest son was playing guitar in our basement. The music was loud and he didn’t see me coming, so I stood and listened for a while. It was a piece I’ve never heard him play, but I instantly recognized his soulful heart behind it. Continue reading

The Leveling Place

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It’s flattering when someone asks you for advice.

It’s terrifying when you remember that you have none.

Not long ago, a friend invited me to coffee so I could share any wisdom I might have about teen anxiety and depression. It was a reasonable request, for she knows I have lived that roller coaster. I’ve also read books and tried strategies. “Surely, I can offer some help,” I thought.

So, as my friend’s question floated across the tops of our steamy mugs, “What do you think we should do about our son?”, we both expected more than what came out of my mouth… Continue reading

The Associative Property

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“Tell ’em about your blog, honey!” My husband waved his arm from me to our new friends with a proud gesture.

I could feel my face redden before the words were half-out of his mouth. I shot him a look, but it was too late. Their eyes were already glazing over. Continue reading

The God of Water

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Water, like a wild Love that’s constrained

By dams of fear and levees of hate,

Builds a fierce current, black and white and jealous.

Until it overtakes its boundaries, and levels everything in its path.

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Relief

It’s called Five Minute Friday. Each week, we write for five minutes, freely, on a one-word prompt. We write quickly, then post, a flash-mob linking together
at Kate Motaung’s siteIt’s fun!
This week’s prompt: RELIEF

There’s always something.

It never ends.

It’s one thing after another.

I hear it all day long. Life’s a bxxch. The struggle is real. Come, Lord Jesus.

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Sockless Faith

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I sat in the tiny chair, held up the Picture Bible a little higher for effect, and spoke in my best Miss Pattycake voice…

“…then, Jesus wrapped a towel around His waist and washed their feet.

They stared at me like little robots. Clearly, they aren’t paying attention, I thought.  Continue reading

Twenty Years

As of last month, it’s been twenty years since my first-born was placed into my arms. It seems like yesterday, and so long ago at the same time.

I look at his tiny body in the picture and can’t believe that he is now a man: strong, talented, intelligent, sensitive, and godly.

And I look into the face of the young version of myself and remember. She is clueless about being a mother, but Continue reading