What Mary Taught Me

Every year, at Christmastime, our family reads The Christmas Story.  As a child, my family read it together on Christmas Eve.  Now, my children look forward to sharing the reason for the season as we enjoy the traditions of the holiday at our house.   It's found in Luke 2 and is the written account of Jesus' birth.  There's a verse I love, though have often missed, toward the end of the account.  It reads simply,  "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."   (19)

Young Mary, a virgin visited by an angel and told that she would be the mother of the Son of God.  Traveled, pregnant, on a donkey, to Bethlehem to participate in Caesar's census.
Gave birth in a stable.
Wrapped her child in cloths and laid him in a feeding trough.
Visited by shepherds and angels.
Then, fled to Egypt to escape Herod's jealousy.
Mother of a king.

Mary "treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart".  She was a young girl on the brink of a bright future with a new husband, when things turned suddenly awry.  In the course of one sleepless night, the outcome of her fate (and ours) changed forever.  How do you think she felt?

For the first time this year, we included a Bible verse on the front of our Christmas card.  I'm wondering if Mary remembered these verses as she watched God's promise to her unfold?  Proverbs 3:3-4 says, "Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.  Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man." 

When Mary "pondered", I think she was writing a history of all that transpired on the tablet of her heart.  In a song she penned, she declares, "My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.  From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me--holy is his name."  (Luke 1:46-49)

Clearly, she clung to the promise of Proverbs 3.  At the risk of sounding blasphemous, I used to read these verses and think that Mary sounded anything but humble.  Now, I get it.  She understood that when you let love and faithfulness never leave you, when you bind them around your neck and write them on the tablet of your heart, you win favor and a good name in the sight of both God and man.  Two thousand years later, we honor Mary for her faith in the face of humiliation and adversity.  Additionally, we glorify God because he chose Mary to be the mother of his precious son. 

What does it mean to ponder?  How do you bind love and faithfulness around your neck?  What does it look like to write these things on the tablet of your heart?  Reading these words now, I think it's how we remember what God has done on our behalf.

We recognize.
We reflect.
We remember.

Over and over again, and throughout both the Old and New Testaments, we find that God's chosen people offered prayers of thanksgiving and praise.  Their love and faithfulness filled their hearts with the message that God keeps his promises, and like Mary, we can say with faith, "I am the Lord's servant....May it be to me as you have said." (Luke 1:38) Many times throughout her life, I have to believe that Mary consulted the tablet of her heart.  If she's like me, then she needed to tap into what was written there to remind herself that in the midst of heartache, pain, suffering, and even joy, God reigns.  His love endures forever.

May you remember the message of God's love for you this Christmas.  He sent his only son into the world to live and die for our sins.  He conquered death to live again that you who were lost might find him and accept him and receive eternal life.

Merry Christmas!

I Believe

If you could ask Santa just one question, what would it be?

My four year old daughter only wanted to know this:  "When were you a baby?"

You see, when she thinks about Christmas, she thinks about Jesus.  She knows the story of his birth found in Luke 2.  God loves her so much that he sent his son into the world as a baby, to grow up and experience life like us, to be tempted and tried and ultimately to suffer and die for us.  A tiny baby.  Who grew up to be a king.  And a servant.  And the greatest hero that ever lived.

Now, tell me again, what did Santa do?  Well, he's fat and jolly and he travels around the world in a magic sleigh on Christmas Eve to give good boys and girls their gifts.

Better hope you're not on the naughty list!

In the weeks prior to Christmas, children across the country exhibit only their best behavior.  Why?  Because Santa sees you when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake.  Guess what?  So does Jesus.  But thank God I don't have to worry about being on the naughty/nice list.   

How good do you have to be?  Ninety-five percent good?  Eighty?  Just fifty-one percent?  No one really knows.  We all go to bed with visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads, dreaming (praying) that we won't wake up with a bag of coal in our stockings.

Now, there's some creepy imagery.  When I think about coal, I think hot..., pit..., fire...and dare I say it, H-E-Double- Hockey- Sticks?  Yikes.

I love Christmas.  I love sharing Santa with my kids, but I never want them to confuse Santa with Jesus.

Santa knows about me.  But Jesus knows me.

Santa lives far, far away.  Jesus lives in me.

I can write letters to Santa, but I can talk to Jesus.  God responds to my inquiries through the book he wrote just for me.  Best of all, I can read it anytime I want.

Santa's gifts collect dust, clutter shelves, and crowd toy boxes.  Jesus gave me the most amazing gift I've ever received.  Not only did he give me life, he saved my life.

This holiday, when you say, "I believe", what are you proclaiming?  Faith in an old, fat guy who flies through the sky and delivers presents to the whole world by climbing down the chimneys of sleeping children?

Eventually, my young daughter will suspect that something is amiss here.  I will not hesitate to tell her the truth.  Right now, we're having fun pretending that Santa and his band of tiny elves visit us on Christmas Eve, but not without talking about Jesus' starring role in the whole affair.  

Now, who do you want to honor on Christmas day?

Remember, Christmas began with the birth of the baby.  James 1:17 says, "Every good and perfect is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created."    This year, when you sit on Santa's lap, remember you've already received the perfect gift.

I'm in the Lord's Army

"God's Army" is on the move!

Those are the words my sixth grade Sunday School teacher used to say to the half a dozen or so of us who sat in the row of folding chairs facing him.  Even back then, I found the imagery a little silly.  Worse, I don't think I ever fully understood what he meant by the metaphor.  It was the mid 1980s.  I was 11.  I didn't know war.  Courage, discipline, and dedication eluded me.  Yet, 25 years later, I still remember the message:  "The day of reckoning is near.  Do what you're told.  Do the best you can, and maybe there will be a medal for you in the end."

As time passed, I began to do more and more FOR God.  After all, he was the big boss, the commander general, and I was just a lowly private.  All my life, I've been trying to work my way up the ranks.  How strange that the harder I worked, the more I did, the farther I felt from the the big guy.  Maybe he didn't create me to be his soldier.  Maybe he created me for something more.

Seven values define the United States Army, including loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity and personal courage.


Hmmm...So, as a Christian, what do those values mean for me?  The Army's values are an enviable ideal.  Spiritual warfare is real and unrelenting.  What does God really expect of me?  All seven values work in harmony to produce a well-rounded soldier.  As a member of God's army, I often made myself a martyr of just two:  duty and selfless service.  I would prepare elaborate meals on a weekly basis for families in need, often feeding my own family PB& J or  calling "fend for yourself" as I headed out the door with a four course meal for someone else.  I ran errands or sat with sick friends, leaving my own children with a sitter.  I was often tired and cranky as I spread God's love to others.  Is that the life God called me to lead?

When I read the Bible, I find that God commands, "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."  (Psalm 46:10)   He further confirms this desire during his visit at the home of Mary and Martha when he gently chides, "Martha, Martha...you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed.  Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."  (Luke 10: 41-42).  Then Psalm 73:28 says, "But as for me, it is good to be near God.  I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge; I will tell of all your deeds." In all three of these passages, nearness and stillness strengthen the relationship and showcase God's glory.  The more I get to know God, the more I want to tell people about his good works, not mine.

During this season of giving, may you be encouraged to serve wherever you are called.   God certainly gave us gifts and talents that they might be used.  Remember, however, to pause to give God both the thanks and the glory.  I learned a valuable lesson all those years ago.  And no wonder I felt far away from God! 

Prayer, thanksgiving, and study are all wonderful tools for developing the relationship you desire.  Serving and giving are good, but there is something counter-intuitive, something that begs quiet and invites meditation, and that's where the real gifts are.  I'm all about doing, but when the doing gets in the way of the relationship, it's time to take a step back.  Take a seat.  Open your Bible.  Say a prayer.  Ask God to show himself to you.  The best thing you can do FOR God is to allow him to do something amazing THROUGH you.   Then you'll be amazed at what God does IN you.

Your Story Begins With a Place

My shoes squished as we walked across the cemetery, and yet it had not rained.  It was almost as if the ground was moist because of the millions of tears that had fallen there.  Over the hill, another family mourned, and I imagined their tears joining ours, soaking the grass, spilling into that deep pit that is grief.  As my friends led the way back to the car, I followed with my head bowed.  Passing the headstones, I quickly scanned the litanies.  A mother who lost two babies within eighteen months of one another, small children whose parents left tokens of their love with the passing of each season, wives, husbands, sisters and brothers slept together in this soggy berth.  The heavy hearts of their legacies caused the earth to sink where they lay.  I thought of my friends.  This place had become their harbor.  Now, it's the anchor that will shape their character more than anything else.  They will go to the cemetery when they're feeling sad, when there's something to celebrate, and when there's nothing else to do but to "be".

I bet they used to have a different place, but the circumstances of an unforeseen fate have altered the landscape of life as they know it.  Beginnings and new beginnings are always hard.  Yet, in the midst of the joy (and the pain), there is a place.  It's a place where God dwells, "and they were calling to one another:  'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.'" (Isaiah 6:3)

As a child, I had a place like that, too.  The woods behind my house invited me to play every single day.  There, I outlined treasure maps, buried my prized rock collection, climbed trees, built forts, and outwitted bullies.  In summer, the trees provided shade and privacy.  But fall was my favorite time of year.  Crunch, crunch.  That's the sound of a crisp, autumn day.  It's the sound of running, jumping, playing, and hiding.  I knew every tree, and I loved it there.  I peeled chunks of pine bark and wrote messages with its brown powder on our back patio.

Now, I'm all grown up, and my place is still those woods.  When I look out the window behind the home I now own, I see trees, but the warm memories they evoke are of the ones I tramped as a kid.  I watch my kids swing from the branches and climb as high as they can.  I remember doing that and thinking, "I'm king of the world!"  My heart smiles when I remember the conversations I had with myself as I walked among the trees.  There, God confirmed that I matter to him.

When I left for college, I traded the familiarity of my childhood backyard for concrete and buildings.  Coming home on an airplane, I loved the descent into Atlanta.  Even in winter, the pine trees stood proud and strong...and green.  Their limbs welcomed me with open arms.

I guess all stories begin with a place.  I wonder where my children's "place" will be?  Will it be our warm kitchen, gathered around the large farm table where we meet for meals and to discuss the minutiae of our days?  Will it be the rolling hills of the camp they attend?  Or the peaceful, sunny beach where we wile away the summers?

Life continues, and the plot unfolds over a landscape that changes with the seasons.  Youth gives way to adulthood, and soon old age chases it through a space-time continuum that's bumpy and winding.  It can be cold and unforgiving.  But there's always a place, a beautiful wonderful place that says, "Welcome home.  I'm glad you're here."