Lack and Longing

Dear Friend!

I am posting mid week because my friends make me happy.  This post is originally from 2015.  I do pray you will get to a service this weekend.  Thinking of you this weekend.  Drive safely.  Be kind.  Share your cookies.

xoxK

Delivery!

“I have to drop my son off first, I’ll bring her by around six.  Maybe I can pull it together and bring dessert.”  
“No worry.  We have more than enough food.  See what your time allows.”  With that, I hung up the phone, feeling pleased with myself.  Some people find life easy to organize.  I don’t.  Any plan that I manage to pull together feels like a major victory.  I had just created an impromptu hang out time for three teenagers on a Friday evening without needing to drive.  I was impressed with myself.  I set myself to food preparation and scanned the living room.  “Girls, time to tidy up!”

I turned on the Christmas music as the girls started cleaning.  There was a knock on the door half an hour later and my girlfriend flounced into the  living room.  “Hello! We’re here,” she announced needlessly.  “You are,” I agreed.  Her arms were full and she started to place plastic cups on my table.  “Ta da,” she sang merrily.   “I made you all dessert.  Well, I tried to make you dessert.  I thought I had two pudding mixes, but it turns out I only had one.  So the girls can each have a taste, unless you have pudding.  If you have pudding, you can add more!  I’m sorry, I should have checked my pantry before I started!”  I giggled.  If anyone in my life was going to show up with an unfinished dessert, it was her.  “And the empty cups?” I inquired, knowing exactly what the answer would be.  “I was making dessert for everyone!” She repeated herself slowly, as though I were daft.  “Those are for you and your husband.  Do you have anything that can go in there?”

Moments like these, provided by friends and family make me insanely happy. This friend in particular, has a knack for doing the unexpected.  God alone knows how we have maintained our friendship over the past decade.  We communicate differently.  I could tell you that I am an auditory learner and she is visual, but the truth of the matter is I am sensible and she is a lunatic.  Misunderstanding stalks us.  We are constantly skirting disaster.  She once called me to request I pick up her daughter and then looked at me quizzically an hour later when I arrived to get her.    

The fact that she presented me with an unfinished dessert wasn’t offensive in the least.  It was a delightful gesture filled with good intent and insanity, exactly what I expect from her.   Friends aren’t bothered by lack of perfection, they are able to see the heart behind the finished product regardless of the outcome.  I find such grace a wonderful part of the Christmas season.  

Perfection is defined as the condition, state, or quality of being free or as free as possible from all flaws or defects.   Christmas is the time when the standard of perfection is raised over friends, family and finances.  For one month, any imperfection is viewed as damaging a holiday which needs to be free from all forms of stress and strife.  Real life could not be farther from the truth.

Christmas outstrips the resources of many.  The ability to buy fabulous gifts, interact without strife and maintain a positive outlook is possessed by few, especially during the holiday season.  Real life has a way of upending good intentions.  When delusions of Christmas grandeur threaten to upset your peace of mind, it is worth taking a stroll through the story of the nativity.

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child.  And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth.  And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

The Shepherds and the Angels

 And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.  And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

   “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger.  And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them.  But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. Luke2:1-21

Suspend if you can, the perfect Christmas and reflect on scripture for a moment.  A young woman, pregnant outside of marriage.  A young couple, with no family members willing to share accommodations.  A baby born in the presence of animal dung.  A new mother with no one to tell her that her baby is beautiful.  No soft cotton outfit to put on the newborn.  A shady bunch of farm hands showing up out of nowhere and no cheese plate to share.   Nothing about this picture meets the criteria for social etiquette. Not a lot about the setting says celebration.  

Heaven however, finds the event glorious.  

Perhaps dear friend, you find yourself outstripped by Christmas this year.  If you are feeling the lack, the longing and the lacerations inflicted by life, could I invite you to take a look into the stable where our Savior was born?  I want to remind you of a simple truth: Jesus did not condescend to come to earth so that you might have a merry Christmas.  He didn’t come for the tree, the lights or the gifts.  He came to bring you hope.

Jesus came, so that you might experience forgiveness when you are rightly accused.  When you are unable to bear one more minute, He came so that He could help you endure.  If you are faced with the inability to cope, he came so that He could get you to the other side of your circumstance.  He came, so that when this world wraps up like a gift, He can right the wrongs and bring the perfect peace and justice you long for.

So dear friend, I wish you peace in the darkness this advent season.  That you might have the eyes to see heavens’ joy.  The heart to hold on to the hope He offers and the grace to sing no matter where this season finds you.

I am thinking of you this week,

xoxKaren

The Cattle are Lowing

“Ha ha!” I shouted as I walked into my friend’s living room.  "What?” she asked, joining me where I was standing.  I am easily distracted by brightly colored objects and had stopped in the doorway to admire a new treasure.  “This!” I held up the magnet in my hand.  I knew immediately why she had purchased the trinket, she liked the cow. I smiled and waited.  “I liked the cow,” she explained, peering at it over my shoulder. “Uh huh. I can see why,” I countered.  “She’s handsome!” 

My friend had returned from holiday which meant I was invading her space to catch up, drink tea and eat her food.  I never have to edit myself when I’m with her, she will entertain any question I ask, no matter how daft.  I examined her ornament, “What happened to Jesus?” I asked. “Hmmmm,” she smiled, peered at it and was giving the matter some consideration.                                         “He’s clearly not as important as the cow, I think this might be blogworthy,” I declared.  “Here, let’s get it out of the plastic.”  She unwrapped the magnet as I reached for my phone.  “It will be easier for you to photograph.”

I confess I was surprised to see my friend breaking out the Christmas decorations.  November is almost over and I feel like advent snuck up on me this year.  Shopping madness has begun and online retailers didn’t wait until cyber Monday to break out the savings propaganda.  Everyone I know seems to be off and shopping while I sit at home wondering what happened to fall. 

I’m kind of behind.  Truth is, I approach the holidays with a particular type of dread.  Some of the nicest memories I have of the Christmas season, involve churches and the message of the nativity. But as the years pass, I struggle with how slick the holiday has become inside the church.  

It’s not a bad thing.  Many of the churches in my area are filled with talented people who like nothing more to give of their time and treasure over the holiday.  They are astonishing and fund Christmas events for hundreds of families, as well as opportunities for giving and blessing others.  Christmas productions put on by churches are of such a high caliber, that some are far better than shows I have paid to watch.

It wasn’t like that when I was growing up.  Secretly, I yearn for the days when boys dressed up in their dad’s bathrobes and placed tea towels on their heads.  No self-respecting shepherd would be caught dead without one.  Likewise, the girls would don coat hanger wings, covered with tin foil and put on halos made of garish tinsel.  Any parent with an ounce of talent, who thought to create wings bigger than the mandatory coat hanger size, or who somehow managed to jerry rig a halo that floated above their child’s head, were rebuked and shunned until they conformed to the lowest common standard. After all, Satan stared out as an angel and look what happened when he lost his humility. 

Simple nepotism determined the roles of Gabriel, Mary and Joseph.  Talent had little to do with anything, and I doubt words like “outreach” and “gospel opportunity” crossed anyone’s mind.  They were all too busy trying to figure out where the cardboard star from last year was placed and where they were going to put the two token hay bales. It was simple, basic and all together lovely.

I examined my friend’s magnet again.  I liked it.  The cow was clearly the celebrity.  Mary was charming, the donkey needed orthodontic work and Joseph seemed sincere.  I had to look hard to figure out where the redeemer was.  Wait. No.  I found him.  I wondered what the artist was thinking when they drew the savior of mankind because honestly Baby Jesus looked kind of like a fried egg.

So this was my week.  I’m sitting at my laptop, after a lovely church service, contemplating advent, in a world that takes the shiny parts of Christmas and reduces the coming of Emmanuel to a tiny, insignificant detail.  A fried eggs worth of attention in a decked out mass produced scene. 

I am praying for you this season dear friend.  Praying that somehow, by God’s great grace, you will keep Jesus at the center of this holiday.  Not just with deeds, but in your heart and in your mind.  That as the world strives to decorate its darkness with lights, that you will gain a deeper understanding of what advent means, in such hard and unsettling times.

Oh, come, our Dayspring from on high,
And cheer us by your drawing nigh,
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Oh, bid our sad divisions cease,
And be yourself our King of Peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to you, O Israel!

Praying for you this advent season,

xoxKaren

PS.  Thank you dear friend for letting me take a picture of your trinket.  You have never reduced Jesus, your life glorifies him.  

Checks and Balances

Fall is my favorite time of year: family walks, foggy mornings, and falling leaves are special memories of the season.  After summer travel, fall offers a chance for my schedule to resume its structure.  I live life alongside a few close friends and in fall I can once again invite myself over on a regular basis to share tea and time together.  It makes me happy. This September however, someone put my life on fast forward and as soon as I figure out who did, I going to accidentally bumper smooch them with my minivan.

I thought I was catching a break a fortnight ago, when I managed a week without needing to medicate any family members.  I figured our crisis were behind us until my better half asked for Tylenol.  When questioned, my concerns were dismissed with a measured amount of nonchalance.  “I’ll be okay.“ He alleged.  “I’m going to wait it out a bit.”  In hindsight, I should have taken him out behind the barn and shot him right then.

(Not true Man of Mine! I would never get rid of you.  You are everything to me and aside from that, we don’t have a barn.)

By Wednesday, my guy was down for the count and by Thursday, we were dealing with a crisis.  By Friday, there were reactions to medication and by Saturday I was desperate.  I called everyone I knew to get counsel, professional and nonprofessional alike, and by that evening I had a plan together.  Sunday was awful but Monday held hope that the situation was going to turn.  If your spouse or loved one has ever been in pain, you understand how nerve wracking it can be. It’s really difficult.

I have to confess though, I was at my care-giving best.  Every fourth and sixth hour, I brought my husband his medication.  I was a symphony of attentiveness.  I fetched water, cold packs, and hot water bottles.  I even gave the man a bell to ring.  But as things got more complicated, I had 4 medications to dispense and I needed to write things down.  I hadn’t slept for more than 3 hours at a time since this whole mess started and I wasn’t at my decision making prime.  Writing a medication schedule, I got a friend to check it and posted it on the wall.  I set my phone alarm to the correct intervals and had everything ready to go.  I was organizing the chaos, conquering the storm, rocking the casbah, or something to that effect.   

My alarm would sound, I’d look at schedule, grab the pills from the corresponding bottle, wake my patient, give him water and drugs, and waltz back to the couch where I kept vigil.  It worked really well.  We were six days into our drug marathon when I awoke at 3:30 am.  My symphony of care was about to hit an off note.  I remember thinking, “I am so tired I could vomit,” the minute the crickets in my phone started chirping.  My feet felt like they were on backwards as I staggered from the couch to our bedroom to check on my husband.  Standing by the bedside for a while, I tried to remember what I was doing.   Drugs, yes that was it.  It was time for his medication.  I looked at the schedule with my flashlight, stuck the pills in a container and awoke my sleeping beauty. 

I still have no good explanation for what happened next, no matter how many times I go over it. He sat up in bed and put his hand out for the pills.  I placed them in his hand and passed him a glass of water. 

“Love you,” he murmured.

“Back at you, hush up and take these,” I handed him 3 pills. 

“Honey,” he replied without missing a beat, “you’ve given me these before.  I already took these.”  

I stared at him blankly.  I looked at my chart, his outstretched hand and the pills.  I didn’t say a word.

The secrets of nursing have been passed down orally throughout the ages. More recently, science has proven that listening to a patient that is stoned out of his tree on painkillers is not a good idea.  A sensible caregiver would have said, “Darling, I have given you these pills every 6 hours for a week.  Yes, you have taken them before.  Don’t worry.  I’ve got it.  Take these and back to sleep.”  A competent caregiver would have provided the right medication, support and direction.

That is not what I did… not even close.

“Really?” I asked.  “I gave you these before?”

“Yep.” He replied. “No worry.”

“Hold on then.”  I looked at my chart, perplexed.  I could have sworn I was doing this right.  Yet, I was being told by my oxycodone snarfing counterpart that I was handing him the wrong combination of meds.  “Okay,” I replied, coming up with plan B, “here take this…” 

And this my friend is where it gets amazing.

I picked a random bottle off the bedside table, took out a pill and handed it to my husband.  I didn’t read the bottle, I didn’t look at the chart, I have no idea what drug it was.  It could well have been the one that caused an allergic reaction.  I put placed it in his hand…

“Wow, I’m sorry darling.  Here take this.  I must be tired.” I apologized and handed him a blue pill.

“No problem babe,” said my high as a kite mate. “That’s why we have checks and balances.”  He gave me a fist bump, “Checks and balances!” He rolled over and was off to sleep, snoring, dreaming of walruses and toaster strudel.  

Confused, I plodded back down the hall and put myself to sleep. 

My next alarm went off at 5:30am and when it did, I remembered what I had done.  Panicked, I ran to the room to see if I really had abandoned my schedule….and if I had killed my husband.  That had me fairly concerned.  Yes, there were the correct meds, undigested in a dish.  But what had I given him?  No clue.  I was utterly amazed.  What had I been thinking?  What on earth was I doing?

This my dear friend, is what I have been ruminating on for two weeks.  The situation got me thinking.  Some of you have been under great stress for a prolonged period of time.  You are overtired, burned out, and are pretty close to the end of your rope. There isn’t any point in discussing things anymore, because you left the realm of sensible ages ago and you don’t show any sign of coming back soon.

I expect if I asked you when you last felt God was in control of your situation, you would direct me to a time before storm clouds gathered on your horizon.  Perhaps you would tell me about a special time of prayer, where you felt certain God was faithful and trustworthy.  Some of you might even be able to quote a specific verse you felt was significant, bringing you comfort and hope.  Maybe you look back on that scripture and wonder what has happened since.  Why God has become quiet as you have run out of resources to fix your situation. 

If this is you dear friend, my heart goes out to you.  I have been there.  Many are there with you.  Friend, please listen, in this time of crisis you have got to stick to the written word.  Don’t let fatigue and confusion pull you from your confidence in God’s care.  Don’t abandon your faith, because you don’t have all the answers.  Don’t give up on the Lord because he is for you, not against.   

Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the voice of his servant? Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God. Isaiah 50:10

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say to the LORD, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”  Psalms 91:1,2

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.  Proverbs 3:5,6

When pressure increases, we are to stand with the word of God and resist the temptation to accuse God of negligence.  The truths of scripture can act as the checks and balances against our human tendency toward unbelief and fear.  Try wielding the word of God this week.  Pull out a 3x5 card and write your favorite scripture on it.  Carry it with you and meditate upon it at every opportunity.  Get prayer on the difficult days.  The promises of God do help in hard times.   God will see you through.  

I’m praying for you this week,

xoxKaren