Magic

Just a few days ago was the first showing of Elf (yes, the Christmas movie) at my house. I know it's a little early in October for that, but I love the magic feeling that Christmas brings. I had so much fun watching with the kids and the hubby, laughing and remembering what Christmas felt like when I was younger. I think most people reach an age or a time when they wonder, What ever happened to that "Christmas Spirit" feeling I had as a kid? 


We try to calculate a formula as to what exactly it was that brought it out. Put in the Bing Crosby record, find that one scented candle you remember, set out homemade nativities from grade school. One year after we had grown, my siblings and I actually broke into a fight about what garland to put on the tree and what music counts as Christmas music--my Beach Boys Christmas music did not make the list.

It's that magical feeling, where did it go? I smell hints of it when I am with my kids, when they smile at me because they know they just did something impressive, or when they sing a new song. When my husband sees that I need a break and takes me away from it all for just a little while, even though I feel like I really don't deserve it at the time, that feeling comes back. Like getting a present in the mail from an uncle, my family is a surprise that I wasn't expecting.

When God saw his people suffering a long time ago, he came down here himself, even though he was a god. He came to give us all something we longed for, love. Love that we don't feel like we really deserve. He even took the time to guide us while he was here. For three years he told us things to help us live healthier, happier lives, kind of like an uncle. God showed us what it means to be family, what love is supposed to look like.

Now when I look for that magic feeling, I look to my kids, to my husband, and to my God. Love is the reason for the season. And we can spread that feeling to others by showing love. But, of course, it doesn't hurt to turn on Elf and decorate the tree to help the kids get that magical feeling, too. : D

From the Moon

My baby girl is walking and trying to run all over now.  I call this second year, The Year of Perpetual Head Bruises.  It never fails, as soon as one dent heals, another takes its place, if not before.  She comes running to me after the pavement makes its mark and wants to be squeezed.  I try to squeeze out all the pain, but in reality, me hugging her will do nothing for the pain.  But alas, it does help her to feel better.  

Right now, in this dirty world full of selfishness and carelessness, people are getting hurt.  It is a time of perpetual pain.  Yes, there are good times, too, like as soon as I set my baby down she takes off running happily again.  And of course, life is easier or harder for different people in different situations.  But while we are here, bad and horrible things will happen.  During those times, we need to run to our comforter for a squeeze.

For you've been a safe place for me, a good place to hide.  Strong God, I'm watching you do it, I can always count on you God, my dependable love.  

Psalms 59:17

Lots of different religions and philosophies encourage meditating, clearing the mind, or even just taking a break from whatever is bothersome.  But nothing beats just sitting quietly next to a good friend.  For some reason, God has not whisked us away to heaven yet, where there are no tears, but until then, he is there to hold our hand (or toss a football, if you prefer) to help us make it through.  I often imagine myself sitting with God on the moon, looking down on the frail world we live in.  Escaping from time and space, as if it is only a memory.  I only need a few minutes with a Good Friend to take a break, get a hug, then say, ok, it's time to jump back in.

A Mind of My Own

My son is my sweetheart.  He can be caught doing nice things for me like setting the table, finding his jacket, and putting his trucks away.  He's three years old and he loves to help.  Just a couple days ago, he and I woke up earlier than normal along with his little sister, who recently learned to walk.  We have a rather lengthy bathroom routine in the morning and I am usually last, of course.  So when I came out of the bathroom, I heard my boy shouting, "No, baby!  You will fall!  No!  You will fall!"  Panicked, I ran to the kitchen to find the baby sitting at the top of sixteen stairs with Big Brother pushing her the other way.  The door by the stairs had been left open the night before and in my sleepy haze I hadn't thought to check it before letting the kids loose in the house.  So I thanked him profusely and called him a hero.  When his dad woke up he said, "Daddy, I'm a superhero!"

All that being said, you'll also note that he is three, which means that in the last six months has acquired a mind of his own.  He has things he wants to do and is adapting to my methods of preventing him from doing them.  He also has his own toys that his sister should never touch, some of these toys happen to be hers.  It is a constant learning process for all of us, this "thinking on his own" thing.  But I always tell him, "I love you so much, and I will always love you no matter what you do or what happens."  It does not matter what horrible thing he could do or get into, I will still love him with the same intensity that I do now.  Now, I will grieve for what he is doing, if it is hurting himself or others, but I will still love him and will always welcome him home and take him in when he needs it..  My greatest fear is that something terrible could happen to him (or his sister, of course), and when he is naughty, I am afraid he is heading down the path of bad decisions, which would eventually mean self-harm.

In the same way, we are all God's children.  I don't mean all Evangelists or all Methodists, or even all Christians.  He made all of us and wants the best for all of us, no matter how far we run in the other direction or blatantly disregard his rules that he set to keep us safe (don't jump on the couch, don't hit your sister, don't drink rubbing alcohol).  But he did offer us the option of not accepting him.  I really really don't want my son to say, "Mom, I'm moving to Australia because I hate you and I never want to see you again."  It would absolutely just kill me if he did that, but I would have to let him.  He is a person separate from me with a mind of his own.  But you had better believe that the moment he returns to the States, shows up at my house and asks for a hug or just a handshake, I sure the heck would let him.

God loves us as his own children.  He will always, always take us in, no matter what.  Even if all we are ready for right now is a handshake, God will take us up on that.

Mark 2:13-17 (The Message Bible)
Later Jesus and his disciples were at home having supper with a collection of disreputable guests.  Unlikely as it seems, more than a few of them had become his followers.  The religion scholars and Pharisees saw him keeping this kind of company and lit into his disciples: "What kind of example is this, acting cozy with the riffraff?"


Jesus, overhearing, shot back, "Who needs a doctor: the healthy or the sick?  I'm here inviting the sin-sick, not the spiritually-fit."