WREATH WRAITHS

 

Simple and clean green. 

I would call my friend’s home décor style minimalist, but I haven’t been to her new flat yet.  However, I know her to favor clean lines and uncluttered spaces.  I personally think it is because her brain is such a busy place she likes a change of scenery but I won’t say it out loud.  She is tidy, loves Christmas and starts to pray for snowfall in September shortly after school starts.  Like many, she pulled out the Christmas décor early this year in an effort to beat back the darkness of the times.  Her tree went up and strings of lights were strategically placed on shelves and plants.  The Christmas mugs were unwrapped and official permission to watch endless hallmark movies was granted.  Her little flat is ready for Christmas and has been since shortly after Remembrance Day.

Her front door sports an artificial wreath that she bought some years back at Michaels.  It was the bargain of the week for $8 and when she added a set of simple lights from Canadian Tire, she was more than pleased with herself.  Like many single mum’s, the thrill of a sale deepens the joy.  After she hung her wreath on the front door this year, she felt pleased it gave the hallway a festive yet elegant bump of holiday cheer.

Life in an apartment isn’t always easy and meeting neighbors can be difficult.  My girlfriend met hers in the summer by tracing a neighborhood cat back to the owner and ended up meeting the lady next door.  She met the husband as well and exchanged a smile and a wave here and there, until recently when the husband met the wreath.  My friend didn’t introduce her neighbor to the wreath directly you understand.  That would have been weird, but he did notice it when they encountered each other in the hall.  He wasn’t to be faulted for not understanding this wreath was an example of living faith.  Purchased for only $8 on sale at a time when money was tight, illuminated by fairy lights bought at Canadian tire, where you can knock tens of cents off the dollar if you hoard the Canadian Tire money they give you.  Neighbor man did not understand the fierce joy this wreath provided or else he wouldn’t have said it was “nice.”  He would have called it fabulous. 

However, my friend did not hold it against him.  She chatted, thanked him for the compliment and went on her way.  She didn’t think much more about it until Friday morning when she walked out her front door.  She walked out her door with confidence, knowing that when she closed her door she would see her simple, elegant wreath and would lock her door knowing that the wreath would be there to greet her when she returned: humble, unassuming and beautiful.

Imagine her surprise when she shut her door to lock it and found this…

Just wow.

Unbeknownst to my dear friend, her sweet, potentially inebriated neighbors decided to decorate her wreath in an attempt to bring her fully into the festive spirit they perceived her “nice” wreath lacked.  They turned fabulous wreath into fabulous-wreath-gets-decked-up-to-go-out-even-though-we-are-all-under-covid-restrictions-wreath.  It was amazing and so surprising and so not at all her style all she could do was blink. 

Blink and choose to be thankful and to enjoy the differences between them.  She called me with the story of wreath massacre/decorating and immediately sent me a picture.  I could only giggle.  In return for the terrorist wreath decorating, my friend was going to surprise her neighbors with hot chocolate bombs (don't know what those are?  Google it).  Such an unwanted, surprisingly lovely act  that lead to another act of kindness, was a welcome relief from the strife and the stress the pandemic has created between neighbors.

So many people are filtering their lives through layers of disappointment as financial instability, sickness, and isolation are part of the holiday trimmings this year. In truth, many people find holidays difficult, but the pandemic has created an unusual level of stress for many who have been affected.  I was reminded that grace and kindness will be more important than ever this season.  I am praying that I will be able to do these holidays well and with integrity.    To pretend the birth of Jesus erases suffering and pain is to miss the point of the season entirely.  We have been given a hope that one day, things will be made right.  For now, we are to watch and wait, to encourage and love our neighbors and enemies, as we travel the dark road toward the light at the end of this dark tunnel.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. […] For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.  Isaiah 9:2, 6-7

xoxKaren

Deerest Friends

Most Darling Friend and Good Sir,

This letter finds you almost 10 weeks overdue I fear.  My texts tell me that your storm started at the beginning of September.  I ask you would forgive the lateness of my reply.   My greatest hope is that your community is still loving on you in these painful times. 

It was with distress that I heard of Good Sir’s cancer diagnosis from our mutual friend.  To be frank, it had been a crap day with each of my children in tears for one reason or another.  When I added my care giving trials to the mix of our unemployment saga, I was ready to swim into the strait with hopes of getting eaten by an Orca.  When our friend texted, I sat down under an apple tree and had a sniffle.  I am truly sorry you are in the middle of such a storm.  What a trying time for all of you.

I thought perhaps I should write to you in the spirit of encouragement to express my extreme fondness of your family. I am not writing much these days but thought I could manage a letter after I walked the puppy. However, at 10:45 this morning, I left to take the dog for a walk and the following events ensued…

10:45:05  Child 3 heads to the car as she is my designated walking buddy.

10:45:25  I let the dog out the back door to join Child 3 in car.

10:45:27  Child 3 gets diverted by the sight of 5 deer and goes into the back yard.

10:45:48  Dog goes to Child 3 instead of car because Child 3 smells like toast. 

10:45:48  Dog finds Child 3 and catches scent of deer.  Dog decides deer smell way better than toast and starts to chase deer family across the back yard to hug them with her mouth.

10:45:50  Child 3  starts shouting for Dog to return.

10:45:52  In the kitchen I hear Child 3 screaming and run outside, upsetting the cockatiel, who was resting on my shoulder.

10:45:53  Bird, terrified by my erratic behavior commences emergency shrieking to inform Child 2 (his owner) that the world as he knows it is ending.

10:45:55  Husband jumps up to rescue Bird who is headed for the chandelier and the 2nd floor where Angus the Persian cat lives.

10:45:57  Child 1 hears commotion and runs outside to assist Child 3 who was last seen running into neighbor’s yard.

10:45:57  Wasp outside is terrified by Child 3 running past his house and commences  emergency shrieking to inform hive the world as he knows it is ending.

10:46:00  Child 1,  running valiantly after the dog and sister, in stylish yet mildly impractical heels, dashes through the garden and knocks head on badly placed lower limb of a tree.

10:46:07  Child 2, having retrieved the cockatiel from her father, places bird in time out and heads outside to assist sisters, both of whom are staggering through the neighbor’s yard.

10:47:00  Child 3 is classified as an enemy combatant by wasps and is stung 4 times.

10:47:01  Child 3  commences emergency shrieking, shouting “Those bastards got me! They got me! Bastards! Bleeping hell!**”  While careening across neighbors beautifully mown grass.

10:47:04  Dog wonders what her human sisters are screaming about and turns for home.

10:47:06  Child 1  catches Dog who is determined to save her human sister from an unknown foe.  Due to momentum and lack of sensible footwear, Child 1 immediately falls over and is dragged behind rescue dog.  Seeing the evil wasps on her little sister, she screams at Child 3 to take off her shirt.

10:47:07  Husband looks out the window in time to see his 14 year old daughter ripping off pieces of clothing, streaking across the garden in her bra in broad daylight followed by wasps, Child 2, Child 1 and Dog.   

10:47:15 Child 1 manages to grab dog in death grip and shouts encouraging pre-nursing program advice to Child 2, who has managed to grab a nearly naked Child 3,  and is leading her past her stunned father, upstairs to the shower.

10:47:45 Husband and I are left downstairs in the living room, secretly blaming the other for most of what just transpired.  Dog blames management and eats the cat’s food while she thinks no one is looking. 

All of this actually happened.

So my dear friends, you can see why I wonder if I am the best person to encourage you, when my entire existence has been reduced to fighting to get through the next 30 minutes.  The irony is, some trials are so hard and they require so much energy, but they come when all personal resources seem to be in short supply.  It is in this place of lack that I find myself praying for you today.  

I wanted to remind you both how precious you are.  You are the type of folk who exist in the lives of others as a source of stability, generosity and kindness.  Your legacy is well and truly alive in your children and it possesses the weight and momentum of eternity.  You are doing such a good job.

You are both simply wonderful people.

And so my prayers Good Sir, are that God will grace you with every healing and a knowledge of his presence.  That on the days he seems very far away, that your mind might hold onto the truth that he is near, and loves your family deeply.  The _____ family was created by God to bless others and make his name shiny.  I am praying that God will see fit to lengthen your days and that you will hold your grandbabies. You are a kind man, so rare in these times.  We are asking God to heal you.

And darling Friend, I am praying for peace for your heart.  You are lovely and so wonderfully practical… and short.   I am praying so many things for you my in heart I could trip over my thoughts.  Sometimes God seems far away in our times of suffering.  I wish I could make you tea and remind you how wonderful you are. 

Lord Jesus,

Please bless my friends with great courage.  We ask for healing grace to flow from your throne to Good Sir.  That you would keep them both in your shadow, so that the valley does not seem so frightening.  I ask for signs of your fingerprints all over everything, because they love you and they are your people.  Restore them Lord, I ask in Jesus name.

Thank you for being wonderful people.  We are praying for you and thinking of you often.

With every fiber of my aching heart,

xoxK 

When Lament Lingers

June's art:  she used to draw stick men.

They were equally as awesome.

Hello Friend!  

What are you doing on this quarantine Sunday?  My eldest just brought me fresh baked cookies and a cup of tea (best thing ever) so I am taking another run at writing you.  I have been sitting at my laptop for an hour now and all I have to show for it is one lousy paragraph and a head ache.

Today, I want to talk about well-meaning church folk, but if I write from my own life experience, I’m bound to make someone cross.  So in a refreshing bout of self-preservation, I would like to introduce you to 2 lovely women, whom I respect and admire for their tenacity and perseverance. 

I met June when she was 3 months old.  Cute, bald and bright eyed, she was a precious little thing.  Not surprisingly, it was also the day I met her mother Jamie, a friend of a friend who had come over for prayer. The way I remember it, I was curled up on the right end of the couch with a pillow on my lap.  Within half an hour, this young woman was lying across the couch with her head on the pillow and I was stroking her hair.  She was sobbing.  I was praying.  After an hour of heart breaking conversation, I was imploring the God of heaven to help, to do something, anything to bring hope to this crushed soul.  Abandoned by an abusive husband, left with two small children, this young woman had no idea how she was going to survive the evening, let alone the next 20 years.  I remember pressing Kleenex into her tear soaked hand and asking, “What on earth do you want me to do, Lord?  What are we supposed to do now?”  Looking at the car seat where June slept quietly in her pink pajamas, I remember sighing, I had no clue.

If you have ever experienced the joy of discipleship, you know how many hours it takes to teach and train a willing heart.  Add to that poverty, single parenting, and limited resources and you will have an understanding of my last 17 years walking alongside June’s family.  My hours on the phone with Jamie have been endless.  We have prayed though fevers and friendships, fatherlessness and firsts, family and feuds.  We have prayed through it all.  We have wept, screamed and laughed late into the evening and in the early morning hours, shivering outside as we talked where children couldn’t hear.  I have prayed for June as she grew up without a father, and said “amen” as Jamie asked Jesus countless times to “shore up the lack” in June’s life.  “Lord Jesus, shore up the lack,” Jamie would pray, “I can’t be a dad; I need you to cover that base for June.”

So the years have passed.  As Jamie went back to school, June’s life improved and then became strained due to sibling dysfunction.  Through it all, June persevered.  She put her head down and worked hard, kept her grades up and attended church, staying accountable when she could have tried on the robe of rebellion and caused herself a whole world of trouble.  But she didn’t.  She kept going, often on scholarships, known as the child of the single mum, which is code for second class citizen in many of our churches. 

Then something amazing happened.  June grew up.  She left behind a toxic school and graduated early with online learning. She realized she had brains.   She got a job in a new environment and found out she was hard working and competent.  Her hours behind her desk and keyboard have meant her artistic talents are developing. Her mum got a great new job and June is experiencing life in new ways without some of the limitations that plagued her childhood.   

It is all lovely to watch but from my viewpoint, some parts are simply astounding. 

Like this week, when June came home from being out with friends and found herself a bit blue.  The young women were church folk and were sharing church thoughts about their church lives. 

Which is a good thing: except when it isn’t. 

The friends were discussing deep truths about how a person needed to be filled in order to minister to others.  They discussed how you needed to overflow in order to reach those around you.  June sat and listened, until her heart couldn’t take the subpar metaphors anymore and she spoke from her experience and from scripture.  “It doesn’t always work like that you know. Sometimes, God shows up when you don’t have anything and you can still give to others.”  And June started to explain to her friends that she grew up without a father, but that Jesus covered that loss.  She explained how she had been given good role models and how God had provided for her over the years when she had no dad; ways she had been blessed and taken care of.  She explained that even though it was painful, God had provided.  It was then she testified to her friends, “I didn’t suffer lack.”

When Jamie recounted this I could have jumped from my chair and run around the block shouting “glory.”  “I didn’t suffer lack.” How many tears did that family shed the night before father’s day? “I didn’t suffer lack.”  Yet June felt the sting of poverty for over a decade.  “I didn’t suffer lack.” The hours her mum cried over the loss of stability and the death of a dream.

I did not suffer lack.

What struck me about the statement was the reality of lament and victory, sitting side by side.  Without a doubt June’s childhood would have been easier if her Dad had stepped up to the role of fatherhood.  But he didn’t and June has cried over the wake of his devastation many times.  Yet still she sees the provision and the beautiful things God did in the emptiness.  She knows that although the cup was empty, Jesus met her there.

When June had finished her little testimony, do you know what her friends said?  Nothing.  They had no words.  It got awkward.  No one said, “That is amazing.  Jesus met you!  How encouraging.”  Nope.  Religion often doesn’t have anything to say when Jesus shows up.  That type of religion promotes victory only: suffering means you didn't pray hard enough.  So June came home sad and needed her mum to tell her she wasn’t crazy.  God does show up when we are low, hurting and in pain.  When we are weak he is strong. You can still win even though your eyes are filled with tears.

For many in this difficult time, the lament lingers.  Their hearts are saddened by their circumstances.  They are empty and they know it, unclear how to cope and what to do next.  All that seems certain is heartache and pain.  If that is you friend, may I reassure you that you can come to Jesus when your cup is empty.  Do not give up.  Do not lose hope.  There is a God who loves you, who is willing to work on your behalf.  He does not look at your pain as something that disqualifies you.  He doesn’t look at you as an empty cup.  He will continue to walk you through the darkness.  He has a plan though you have nothing.  He will shore up lack in the midst of your pain.

You weren’t wrong June. 

I have loved watching you grow up.

xoxKaren

P.S.  I first introduced you to Jamie 10 years ago!  My word I am so old.  It was before I knew how to export pictures.  She is responsible for so much of my grey hair.
Here is the link to that post.
https://itstartedwithalion.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-would-like-jamie.html