Monthly Archives: December 2013

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My day started going downhill at the avocados. I had to go to Wal-Mart today. I've avoided going as long as I could.
For two hours I gathered the stuff we needed (like deodorant) and the stuff we didn't need (like Reese's Christmas Trees and Hershey's Cookie and Cream Snowmen).
Finally I arrived at the produce section. I'm always happy to see those fresh leafy greens because they're cheering me on.

When I've reached them, I'm near the finish line.
I park by the avocados and I go to grab my bunches of cilantro. I turn to put them in my basket, but my basket isn't there. "Someone's taken my basket," I internally huff. " I proceed to walk in meaningless circles searching for my cart. The only unmanned cart is not mine, but strangely it has the chocolates and gum I picked up a few aisles back.

Turns out I'd taken someone else's cart six aisles back in the candy section.

Day's Moral #1

Things are not always as they seem. When in a panic circling the cantaloupes and tomatoes, stop and think. You may very well be the cause of the problem.

Thirty minutes later I pay out with my basket brimming as I make my way through the parking lot. A bag of tortilla chips slips off the basket and right in the line of fire of my cart's front right wheel. I kid you not it sounded like a gunshot. Once more I panic scrambling to pick up the mess. A dear man shouts encouragingly,

"You just fed the birds".

Day's moral #2

View life's messes in a positive manner.

We can always use a dose of perspective. The messes in life often help us see things in a different light.

I was angry yesterday, remember?  I ranted and vomited my feelings about the removal of Phil Robertson from Duck Dynasty. I still don't agree with the decision but I'm pretty sure A&E doesn't care. I was compelled to voice my opinion and I did.

I'm making a concerted effort to think more positively today. Millions of people banded together to support someone they felt was being treated unfairly. Likewise there were other people who offered their perspective differing from mine and I listened. And I learned. The whole A&E Phil Robertson removal is still a fiasco,

but maybe it's making people think about things,

stand up some,

have meaningful conversations.

Maybe we'll make an effort to better understand.

Maybe we'll thoughtfully consider what we have to offer

-a word, a listening ear or a prayer

Take a mess and feed the birds from it.

Day's Moral #3

Don't go to Wal-Mart.

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It's five minutes until 11:00 pm; one hour until the 19th. I'm exhausted from December and uncomfortable from sinus junk. I went to sleep at 8:00 this evening but was woke up by Hallie. She told me that A&E had suspended Phil Robertson for comments he had made about homosexuality. I assured her that she'd misunderstood. And I tried to go back to sleep. I was convinced that we (as a culture) haven't gotten so far that we would immediately remove/ banish someone for sharing their beliefs, WHEN ASKED.

I was wrong.

If you've been under a rock and have missed what's going on, here's the link: http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2013/12/18/phil-robertson-suspended-after-comments-about-homosexuality/
I'd like to tell you that my heart is troubled for Phil Robertson and his family tonight. And it is.
I've listened to Phil Robertson's testimony. He has laid bare his troubled past and his present imperfection. He expresses that we are all fallen and in need of a Savior.

He has been given a platform by A&E only to be cut down from it the second he shares certain beliefs, upon being prompted.  While blunt,  I've heard nothing of hate in his words and it seems the media (in all its trolling) has found no hate in his actions. Yet he has been labeled a "vile" man who is not a "true" Christian. I can only imagine the hate mail he and his family have received today.

I'm mad at what has happened to Phil Robertson. But upon soul searching, I realize there are several reasons for my sadness, and even anger.

"Forcing your beliefs on someone" and "sharing what you believe" to be true are two different things.  It seems to me that Phil Robertson gets that.  A&E does not.  GLAAD does not.  Mr. Robertson, upon request shared his beliefs. And because GLAAD and A&E, along with much of modern America don't get that you can share your beliefs lovingly, Mr. Robertson is being portrayed as homophobic and hateful. (Throw in the likes of us who are standing behind him).

I try to teach my children that the truth is ALWAYS right.

Certainly there's a sensitive timing in speaking the truth,  but we're told to

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1 Peter 3:15

I like to put things off, but I'd also like to think that I'm prepared to give that answer for myself. I have before and pray that I will always be ready to explain the reason for my hope (not for any good I've done but because of Christ).
I guess I wasn't prepared to explain to my twelve-year-old daughter that she should be ready because society says that it wants an answer; its answer and it wants it now. The agenda of homosexuality acceptance is being force-fed to kids younger than my eight-year-old.  I wasn't prepared to explain to my kids that truthfully you're not safe sharing your beliefs in America anymore, not Christian ones anyway. Now I realize that is a conversation that is going to happen soon.

I'm hopping mad that this show is in danger of being taken off the air.  Even if they keep it on the air (without Phil) I'm angry that I'm in a position where it's only appropriate (in my mind) to make the decision to stop watching a show that has been the only show my family watches together. It's slim pickings for family friendly shows and I was refreshed that A&E was offering a good one.

I've read recently (in an interview with Phil) that A&E asked him to leave out the name of Jesus when he prays.  He also shared that the bleeps I've heard during shows are fictitious, making us believe that the characters are cursing when in fact they're not; offensive lies. These decisions on A&E's part are, in my opinion more grievous than putting him on hiatus.  The hiatus, for me, is just the last straw.

I'm angry that there are less and less voices ready to answer what they believe, fearful that they will be misunderstood or mistreated. I find that I often lose my own voice.  I can love people and simultaneously believe that their choices are not in line with what the Bible says. Culture leads us to believe otherwise. And yes I know that my choices are often out of line.  I get that I need Jesus too.

I'm angry that it's now 11:49 and I'm still awake.

I'm so angry and I'm so saddened that I'm asking Christians to wake up with me.

Do we know what the Bible says?
Does it matter to us?
Does it matter to the lost or the deceived?
Does our attention to these questions matter to God?

God tells us to be ready with an answer...

What is our answer going to be?

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I dropped the cap to a full gallon of bleach behind the washing machine this morning.  I don’t actually know how you can “drop” something behind a washing machine when you’re standing in front of it, but I did. I’m special like that.  Any thought of trying to retrieve it is ridiculous.  I’d be consumed by the world of fuzz back there, never to be seen again (kind of what December feels like right now).

Last night was Rylie’s Christmas program at church. I bought her a black sparkly sweater to wear.  After I safety-pinned it to make it fit right, we discovered that it was made from some “hyper”allergenic fiber.  She scratched herself silly during practice, but the sweater was there to stay

1. Because the red tank top underneath lacks the Christmas feel by itself

and more importantly

2. The threads in the sparkly black sweater were somehow wrapped around the curvy part at the end of the safety-pin….. (for life).

To make matters worse, she had one small duet part in the program to get right.  Two lines. We'd rehearsed.

Today we come singing out to you

Good news, great joy, Jesus is born.

How hard can that be?  But as we had our last quick rehearsal, what is Rylie doing during her part but playing with a small bead and uncurled paper clip she found on the floor.  She was deep in satisfaction. She was also in trouble. The wee moments before the program held no singing (from Rylie’s lips) and no great joy. And as has happened many times before with having three kids, I sent her off to what is supposed to be a happy memory-making time, tearful.

There’s no time I’m more aware of how things go wrong than during “the season”.

All is merry and bright.  What a crock.

Sure I smile at seen gestures of kindness and I enjoy the company of family and friends. There's nothing like the tastes of Christmas or the sounds of old familiar carols.

Both the wonderful and the blunderful seem magnified this time of year.

Shopping at the last minute, I get the shopping cart with the damaged wheel that clang clang clangs my cart slightly to the right.  Stern on not making Christmas about things, I pile the unnecessary into my basket. I overdo.  And I don't do enough.

I burn cookies and the soup I made for the neighbor gets old before I have time to deliver it.

Besides my usual blunders evident during the “all is bright” Christmas days, there are other things that cause me to get the Christmas blues. I lost my cousin and best friend twenty-two years ago, tomorrow, to a car wreck two weeks before I got my driver’s license and just weeks after she got hers.  Somehow the memory of her tragic death clouds part of the holidays.  I’m convinced that there are more deaths during December than any other month. The pain of loss isn't felt probably more strongly any other time than at Christmas. I can’t imagine not being able to spend Christmas with the ones I love, but there are a lot of you out there doing just that. That makes me hurt.

Jason and I have always been able to get the kids pretty much what they want for Christmas.  There’s usually not anything that they need.  That’s not the case with many.

Beyond the packed shoeboxes, random acts of kindness and wrapped angel tree gifts there’s a world of poverty and loneliness that we can’t even touch.

But life is wonderful

Not because “all is calm” in these harried days.

Life is wonderful because Christ came long ago and gave us the gift of hope; the foretaste of glory divine that is our’s forever through faith in Him. Hope can't be extinguished though sold-out Zoomer robot dogs or failed attempts at Christmas magic.

And with all our blunders and pains life is wonderful because Christ offers a peace that passes these things we can’t control nor understand.

Life is wonderful because Joy doesn’t cost “us” a thing.  Jesus offers deep contentment, if we’ll let Him, that exists in the midst of burned cookies, itchy sweaters and icy winds.

It’s a wonderful life because Christ came.  Immanuel.  He’s with us.  And he’s coming again.

In all of our blunders and  brokenness, life is wonderful because Christ is wonderful.

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Kristen is a student at Central Middle School. I've gotten to know her through church and God's Girlies.  She's a jewel.  She recently had an opportunity to share her precious self with the people of Guatemala.  This is her account.

On Our Way

We were waiting to get on the plane. We had just met the other people who were going on the trip with us, and I could already tell that I would like them. They called up our group to wait in line to go on the plane, I was soooo nervous. This one lady behind us was talking to Papa and I really liked her and hoped she would be sitting next to us. I did have T-mobile unlimited text in all, I don't know , 180 countries. I would be able to text my friends when we landed. Deep breath. OK. We got on the plane.

 

Someone was already in the window seat and Blaine took his spot next to him and I took my spot next to Blaine. The guy in the window seat only spoke Spanish and he was very scary looking. Like, Very. I was really scared of him and just kept looking forward. Blaine then whispered in my ear "Do you want to trade spots? "No," I answered "Why, are you scared?" Blaine shook his head yes. I saw the fear in his eyes. "At least you and Papa trade seats," He said. "OK" I told him. "Psst Papa can we trade seats, Blaine's scared." So am I, I added mentally. "Why?" Papa asked. "Blaine's scared I repeated," Again, I added so am I mentally. "OK," he got up as the person who was supposed to sit next to him got in his seat. I got up, took his place, and Papa sat down next to Blaine.

 

Mr. John talked to him and told him that my Papa was sitting over there. After a long time we finally took off. They showed the normal safety video, and we took off. The only other kid (besides me and Blaine, his name was Mark) was sitting behind Mr. John. He had never ridden in a plane before and was pretty scared, but (of course) he got over it after we took flight. We were flying for 20-30 minutes when the flight attendant announced "You may now turn on your electronics." "Yes," was the response from the crowd I heard from where I was sitting. I saw every pull out there devices while he said it in Spanish. "Can I have my book?" I asked Papa. When we switched spots our carry-on's did not switch. "Sure," he gave it to me. "Can I have my kindle." I grabbed the Kindle Fire and he shook his head no. So I grabbed the plain-old Kindle and gave it to him. I read for a little while and the man next to me tapped me. I turned my head to look at him. He only spoke Spanish so I didn't know what he was saying until he said Banjo (which means bathroom) and I still didn't understand until he turned to Mr. John and Mr. John said "He wants to switch spots with you." He turned back to the man while I got up, "HER DADDY IS RIGHT OVER THERE." He tried to communicate with him. I was already up though so he went to the bathroom.  He got back and I kept reading.

 

The snack cart came around. The drink cart came around and I got a Sprite. Finally we landed. Nothing to special about the plane ride. We got off and we joined our group. Most of us were sitting right next to each other anyways. We got out and we were trying to find our sign . It was supposed to say Michelle's name but It said "Casa Angelina" , which was the orphanage we were working at is called. We meet Miss. Sarina and they put our luggage on the back of the bus. We sat in the bus and they drove us to a little spot right outside the airport. We were waiting for another group. We landed at 11:30 their time and that meant it was 12:30 here. I was HUNGRY!!! RAVENOUS!! (<-- vocab word) I needed FOOOOOODDD!!! We waiting and waited and waited. We were all hungry. Ann bought me and Blaine and Mark ice creams. I was still hungry." Grab the goldfish," papa said. I quickly jumped out of my seat and grabbed the goldfish. Halfway through the bag me, Blaine, and Mark were all eating in, I said " We better save some for later." "Yah," they both said. I put the goldfish bag up. We played Candy Crush on Mark's Aunt Shirly's iPad.

 Our Time in Guatemala

After hours of sitting there the bus started up. Cheers from our group came. We went back to the airport and got the people from the other flight, and we started to go to the hotel. Mark fell asleep, and soon after I did too. They drove through the mountains, but I was asleep. Glad I was too, because when I woke up I wasn't as hungry. We got to the hotel shortly after I woke up. Magnificent hotel too. (picture should be somewhere) Dinner was supposed to be served at six-thirty their time (seven-thirty here) but not till about seven was it served (eight here). The food was...Ummmm..... Well it looked.. Umm.. Cool, I suppose. Part of it had the crust of a chicken patty and on the inside it was spinach. The drink was EXCELLENT. It was lemonade, but it was much sweater. Delish! But the bread was good, it had sesame seeds on it .I ate goldfish....

 

Well, the next day we toured the city. We had an excellent tour guide. On Monday they picked us up at 7:30 their time and we went to Casa Angelina. When the bus got there all the little kids ran up to the bus and said "Hola" to us. I meet India (the grand-daughter of the woman who owns Casa Angelina) and Ariana. They spoke English. I had my own personal little translators! We went into the big meeting room place and they told us all the rules and stuff. Don't take the kids away from their house (they lived in houses that people build and they have house parents and all the kids are assigned their house and that’s where they live) and stuff like that. So we toured the Casa Angelina. We saw all the different houses. About half way through we found Ethan (India and Ariana's older brother, India is 9 , Ariana 7 , Ethan 10 ) and he toured us cause he was much faster. The adults stayed with Mr. Andrew (the dad of the kids I was just explaining, when I say Mrs. Bethany it is their mom) and we went with Ethan.

 

The adults were looking at the soccer field and talked about it. Us kids were much cooler and decided to play on it. When the tour was done we ate lunch. All the kids sat together. We talked about random stuff. When the food was ready India, Ariana and Ethan did not jump out of their seats to go and get food, like everyone else. "I'll wait for you guys," I told India. "Oh no," she said "We don't eat that food, we're vegans." Ok, weird. I jumped in line. Crazy food they served. I only ate the meat. After lunch us kids played on the playground. Then we visited the four widows homes. It started to rain while we were traveling up the dirt roads to their house.  After that we played with the little kids. After the little like meet and greet thingy they did, I mean. India said "Let's go see Wendy!" She was excited.  "OK," I said trying not to let the confusion be seen. We went to find Wendy and she was holding this precious little baby. She was one year old. I held the little baby's hand and she reached her arm out so I could hold her. How do you not hold such a precious baby when it reaches its arms out to you? I had to! I held her. What an adorable baby!

 

The house tutor (yes, they have tutors) took a picture of me holding her. I guess it was some big deal that I was holding her. India took her to someone else so we could play a game. There was a long ribbon and me and Wendy put it around our ankles. India did this weird jumpy while saying country’s crazyness and we would move it up higher. Then we had to leave. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay there and be friends with these little girls. But, I left. It was sad. We got to the hotel and ate dinner and we played a game with Mark in his hotel room. Tuesday they picked us up on the bus and the Georgia people did a devotion. I liked it very much. When we got to Casa Angelina a few kids came up. We had a devotion inside. They told us what we were going to do. We had to pick up the already painted fence out of the muddy covered area and put it down on the grass. There was a fence in between so we did it a weird way. After we did that we painted the fences that had not been painted yet. We had a team thing. There was team 1 (I was on team one ) and team 2. We were counting how many we got.

 

By lunch we had given up on that and did it a different way. Lunch, again I only ate the meat. We went back to work. The police showed up and played soccer. Blaine and Mark went to go watch them. I gave in soon after to go watch. Blaine and I went to the playground because we got bored. Then Mark gave in and came down to the playground. We found Ethan playing with his friends. "ETHAN!!," We kept yelling. Over and over. He didn't respond. "MOOOOO!!!," I finally shouted, trying to find something to get his attention. He looked over at us. "That worked? MOOOOOO, " Blaine shouted " ETHAN GET DOWN HERE!! MOOOO!! " He came running down rolled down the hill while his friends shot Nerf guns at him. One of them got him and dropped the gun. We watched them play and then I told Ethan he had bad aim and couldn't hit me if he tried. Then we played where someone swung the swing and someone else tried to shoot it. Then we played their game again.943693_10151921026918632_1891348986_n

 

Ethan decided to grab the Frisbee. "Let’s play Ultimate!" Mark suggested. Ethan didn't know what that was so Mark and Blaine explained the rules to him. We played it were I was ref on both teams, until another one of Ethan's friends came and made it even. Then I played on Blaine and Mark's team. Then we had to leave. On Wednesday we had our devotion on the bus again. We had our devotion when we got to Casa Angelina. Then Mr. Andrew told us we would be gardening and another group would be carrying cinder blocks. The boys were gardening with us until Mr. John came and told the boys they needed them. So then I was the only kid. I stood there waiting for someone to tell me to do something. Well.. I never got told to do anything. Lunch finally came and I went to the lunch room. I waited for India and Ariana. And waited... and waited.. and waited. Finally lunch was served and I realized that they weren't coming. I ate the meat and waited for dessert, ate dessert and went outside.

 

Blaine and Mark were already outside, swinging on the swings, Ethan right in front of me. They wanted to play Ultimate again and I really wanted to play with the little girls. When they decided to play football on the road I sat with the little girls who were watching. In Spanish I said "Hello," and they all said a Spanish hello back. I turned to one little girl in particular (Esmalando) and said (in Spanish) "How are you?" Her Spanish reply was "Good" She looked really shy. I liked her and her friends she seemed really nice. She was adorable too. Then one said something in Spanish to another and they all jumped up and went to their house. Do they not like me, I thought. No there just shy, my mind replied, there not used to you yet. A couple of times they came back and I ran up to meet them. They would go back after a while. I did that until India and Ariana meet me at the playground. "All the little girls are avoiding me." "They have a lot of chores to do," she replied . "No, they keep coming back," I tried. "They're shy. They're not used to you yet. Come up with me and I'll introduce you," She answered. "Nah, I'm good, " I said .

 

We went back to the hotel. I didn't eat dinner that night, I just ate the bread and some goldfish. Thursday was very eventful. Mark kicked me in the face that morning with the soccer ball. I traded from doing the garden to doing the sand buckets sometime before lunch. Then we had lunch. Ariana met me there, India was reading. India got there right before they served lunch. I didn't eat the food that day, I just had salt and bread. Mr. John asked Ethan, Ariana, and India questions the whole lunch time about what it was like and stuff like that. We went outside and we played. I didn't want to play because I wanted to talk to the little girls. When they decided they wanted to play soccer I went up to Edmond's house while Ethan got the soccer ball. I played on the playground for a while with a couple of little girls. Soon there were 10 of them.

 

Mark called from down the hill, "Kristen, you gonna play?" I went to the edge, "Yah!" I replied with the girls behind me. "Got some fans Kristen?" Mark asked. He laughed. "Maybe they can cheerlead." Whatever, I thought. I went down the stairs and joined Mark. I wish I knew how to say I have to go in Spanish, I thought, they might know then, I'll learn that first when we get back home. We played soccer until the police got there. Then we went back to the playground and meet India and Ariana. We played hide-and-go-seek then. We played in teams. India, Ethan and Mark on a team, Me, Blaine and Ariana on another. We played that until India got in trouble for not wearing tennis shoes. India and Ethan had to go. We swung for a while until I got bored. Ethan gave Mark the soccer ball so we could play soccer. Everyone was going, they were about to take the group picture.

 

We meet Ronald, the pilot on the way and he asked "Can I play?" (He can speak English, he needs to learn so he can go to pilot school in America, he needs to take the S.A.T's to go to pilot school) "Of course." We played him against Me, Mark and Blaine. He got two goals and then I outsmarted him while someone told him we were going to take the picture, I kicked the ball from the "holding the ball with your foot" position (I don’t know what it's called ) and made a goal. We took the picture and I got to play with Esmalando and her friend (Claudia). I played until we had to leave and Claudia gave me a little note. She was trying to write in English and it said ' I luv yu tu Kristina ' and it had a big heart on it . I said thank you and gave them both hugs and kisses. I had to leave then.

 

On Friday we were having a pizza party for lunch. But we had to work the first half of the day though. Just waiting for it to be time. It felt like five minutes and I was already hungry just thinking about it. After I switched jobs twice and I decided to grab a drink I ended up doing the sanding. Finally it was time for the pizza party. After we showed up some of the kids came in. They all came with their houses. I saw all my little friends but I sat with India, Ethan, Ariana, Blaine, and Mark. We ate our pizza and after that we played soccer. Everyone was really good at soccer but some were better. I cut short because I needed to get all my friends to sign my shirt. Ron the pilot's team won soccer. I saw my little Dora and thought, now what is your name in Spanish, well “K es too numbre” is “what is your name” so numbre is name. So I said while doing little writing hand motions "Numbre" Her and some little boys signed it. I got all my friends to sign it and Papa Ivan and Mama Kimberly signed it too.1424322_10151921024533632_236518227_n

 

On the bus ride back to the hotel I thought of how bad their life probably was and how much better it’s gotten with God's grace. I teared up a little while thinking this. On Saturday we had to leave. I was very sad but I knew I would not forget the trip. It was far too good of a trip to forget.  We saw Papa Ivan and Mama Kimberly and Sara with her baby Lincon at the waiting lobby. There was an older lady in front of us as we got in line for boarding. She talked to Papa a bit. As we got on the plane someone, we didn't know who, was sitting between us. The lady from the boarding line came and Papa asked," Are you sitting here, because I would like to trade spots with you. I'm sure you don't want to sit by these crazy kids anyway." She replied, "Oh yes exactly where I wanted to sit. I prayed for someone to change seats with me." And as she said that I thought, God answers prayers for a fact. Then they did the safety stuff and we took off. We saw the nice lady from the first flight and she asked us how it was. I really liked her. When the plane finally landed we did the whole "getting back into America, making sure you didn't smuggle anything in" process. It took a whole hour. We drove Mr. John home and we went to Mom's. Papa uploaded our pictures on his computer. And I thought, I'm going to have to go back.

This wasn't Kristen's first rodeo (mission trip) and I have a feeling it won't be her last.  In case you missed her last guest blog on Belize, click here http://kristiburden.com/?p=3501.

Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, and in purity.  1 Timothy 4:12

 

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10. Rylie has held down three taquitos and some crackers and cheese after being sick today, and boy was she...

9. She told me this morning that being sick "is the life" because she gets to spend time with me. My new goal is to attempt to remember that in the same way "ill times" are a great reason to spend unexpected time with God.

8. Jason has found a new and improved way for me to get pictures on the blog that doesn't take an hour per picture which prevents me from shouting severe cyber insults. He's such a smart guy, sometimes.

7. Easy picture publishing made a way for me to quickly share a couple of the pictures we had made for Christmas this year.

6. There were no tears this year. And the sweater Rylie is wearing wasn't stained until AFTER we took the pictures.

5. Staying home today, I found a song in an old Bible that Hallie wrote when she was in first, maybe second grade. She was a lyrical genius. My favorite lines in one song reads,

"I bo (do) sins,

God You bo (do) love".

 

Is she right?!

4. One of my dearest friends in the world is coming in for some girl-time tomorrow. She loves Dr. Pepper and Millionaires as much as I do and won't look at me funny if I overdo (unless maybe I take the last Millionaire.)

3. I was able to chat with one of my old students on Facebook tonight. She's starting Truett Seminary in January. That just thrills my soul.

She wasn't the only old student I got to talk to tonight.

2. I got to talk to another "kid" of mine on Facebook too. I was able to tell her how I still have an envelope from a card she wrote for me years ago. She'd sealed the envelope with chewed bubble gum. We were able to share with each other just what a year in first grade, and a year as her first grade teacher can mean in the span of years. And I was reminded it can mean a lot.

1. There's one big, wrapped box Hallie placed under our Christmas tree tonight, and it's FOR ME! I'll do my best to keep it under wraps until Christmas.

In the meantime there are gifts unnumbered, like the ones I unwrapped today, with my name on them.

 

 

 

 

 

121013_0328_TenreasonsI5.jpgGod is good, all the time

All the time.......

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I'm about to either brag or make a terrible confession.  I don't know which.

Yesterday I caved.  I bought an Elf on the Shelf. I decided several years ago that I wouldn't and every year I've stuck to it; from stubbornness more than principle. Until now.

I hid it in the cart at Target (not from my kids but from people like me who've decided they will not buy one, and from people who might think I don't know the meaning of Christmas).  At the checkout line I placed the box upside down as a token gesture of shame.  I started to explain to the clerk why I'd bought one, but for once, I had no words.

They're starting to form now.

I know there are several types of you out there reading this.  There are those of you that wonder why in the world I'd be ashamed.  I've probably seen pictures of your "Elves on the Shelves" posed in humorous manners and thought "I'd do that if we had one". Others, are possibly rolling your eyes because I've given in to the adult peer pressure unintentionally doled out by the "Mom's Club" (which I'm a sporadic member of). Then there are a handful of you who don't know/don't care about an Elf on the Shelf. I still don't know which category I fall in.  It changes according to my mood.

Our kids have only had their picture taken with Santa a few times.  Not because we're against it, but just because we're not that into it.  For one thing, I rather despise malls in the month of December. I hate waiting in line.  And honestly, I've made an attempt to make sure that Christmas is not about Santa, or reindeer.....or presents.......or believing hard enough so that you'll get the one thing you truly want.  And so I've found myself being a little rigid.  Christmas becomes a "naughty-nice list" of activities.  Threatening your kid to be nice or Santa won't come-Naughty. Making cookies for your neighbor-Nice. I want to do everything nice.....for Jesus

Rylie has been asking for an Elf on the Shelf for two years.  It was actually one of the few things she asked for this Christmas. I got her one not knowing if it was the nice or naughty thing to do.

I think now I'm realizing not everything divides up so easily that way.  I love looking at Christmas lights and reading letters to Santa asking for "ulektronicks" or "a new bik".  And though those activities don't have Jesus' name written all over them, they're a part of my Christmas.

She found "Jingle Belle", as she calls her, yesterday after school lined up with our nutcrackers on the fireplace. Getting ready to get comfortable in front of the TV, she had taken one shoe off.  That's when she spotted her elf and screamed.  She sat mesmerized for a good twenty minutes with just one shoe.

You're not supposed to touch your elf. Where there's a will (or plastic claw), there's a way.
You're not supposed to touch your elf. Where there's a will (or plastic claw), there's a way.

I have gotten such a kick out of watching her pure joy.

And I think it's reminded me of something important that I routinely forget.  Our activities, whatever we choose them to be, aren't nearly so important as the meditations of our heart.  The kindness of gifts given with much thought- like Angel tree gifts and jars of homemade salsa, remind me where kindness comes from.  The joy brought on by laughter at an ornament swapping party, the sight of sleeping newborn on Santa's lap, or even by an Elf on the Shelf, points me to Jesus.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O LORD, my rock and redeemer. Psalm 19:14

 

 

 

 

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I believed the Little Drummer Boy was an actual participant at the birth of Jesus. Like, I'm talking when I was in High School I believed this. I should be embarrassed to share that, but oddly I'm not.  His attendance was never mentioned in the Bible and he's not one of ceramic figures in any manger scene I've ever beheld.

Still, words have been sung for the past fifty Christmases indicating his annual presence.Though I know he wasn't there at that first Christmas, I see him in a tattered red and blue outfit, offering what he has.  He's sort of a surprising figure because everybody else at the manger looks like they stepped off the pages of the Bible, as I imagine them in robes. But he joins them.

I am a poor boy too , pa rum pum pum pum,

 I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum,

That's fit to give a King, pa rum pum pum pum,

Rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum.

Shall I play for you, pa rum pum pum pum

On my drum?

Every year there's a manger to remind us how a Holy Savior became small and approachable. Even a poor, small Drummer Boy is invited to his side.  The heavenly choir has already sang out and the wise men, in our story bear fine gifts year after year, but the stable holds room for more than these, and room for more than Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and livestock.  An odd picture, the sacred ground surrounding the newborn King is a place for the unworthy and the simple.  The Inn may have been crowded, but there's always a place at the manger.

We're invited, even if empty-handed.

But like the Drummer boy we know that a King like this is deserving of our offerings-

 like the gift of gratitude for a family and friends who love us

and the gift of joy expressed in a giggle when you take-out the garbage can (with your car)...for the sixth time

-A sigh paired with a smile when looking at a kitchen floor covered in Christmas cupcake crumbles

We come to the manger with the gift of awe that God allowed himself to be wrapped in a tiny bundle

though He's so much bigger than what we see.

We offer a contrite heart, full of things that don't matter

and we offer up a heart full of things that do

-Friends broken by loss and those we love who are bound with fear.

Strangely the giving of these burdens with the little faith we can muster is a gift to the King.

We come to the manger with moments of stillness aware that among the hustle and bustle, the one work that had to be done

began on Earth some two-thousand Christmases ago.

We're invited to come, and come often, to the manger this season. There's room.  And whether we have some extravagant thing to bring or something simple, may our hearts beat in rhythm with the Drummer boy who offers, but more importantly is captivated by a little King who makes room for us all.