As we go into the Christmas season, I am reminded of the significance of Jesus' birth. The words are easy to say and sing and gloss right over. Jesus was born.
Jesus who, let us not forget, is God. Divine, Holy, Creator, Exalted, Father, Glorious, Perfect, Loving, Powerful, and Everlasting. Was born - meaning became human, entered the world of His creating.
At Easter we will celebrate his rescue plan for our sinful selves, but at Christmas we celebrate the moment this holy, exalted, powerful, loving, eternal God willingly chose to become one of us. With confidence, we can say that He understands our needs, our struggles, our passions, our dreams, our joys, our challenges, and the entirety of our human experience.
Think about the times you have particularly felt that Jesus understood exactly what you were experiencing. When has He felt remarkably close? When has He been exceptionally praiseworthy? When has He been especially comforting?
This evening, let's stand and praise Jesus together, that He understands and stands with us in every part of our lives. As I begin, let us lift our hands in praise of a God who became human. I invite you to be courageous and praise Him aloud for a specific time, good or difficult, that you knew that God got it and was right there with you. Just say a word or a sentence and let's pray together, celebrating what it means that Jesus was born.
Jesus, thank you for becoming one of us. We want to thank you for the many times that we have known beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you hear, and see, and understand us....
This Christmas, Lord, let us not forget the immense impact of the fact that Jesus was born. Amen.
Tuesday, 25 November 2014
Exalt Devo 1
You know those days when you mess up? Not the ones where the photo radar catches you or you discover you've been mispronouncing a word all your life or you swear in front of your Oma. The ones where you hurt someone you love. The ones where you say things you regret the second they are out of your mouth. The ones where your reactions are ungodly, your attitudes impure, your motives selfish. The ones where, even while you are still kicking yourself for the last blunder, you can't help but fall again.
We are so flawed. We are so weak and powerless. So human. So sinful. A thousand times we've failed.
I know a lot about days like this because I live with many small children. Sometimes I can't even tell when these days are starting, as they begin fairly benign. Maybe one kid will get out of bed and immediately go to claim the favourite cereal bowl for himself - this month's favourite is yellow. Not necessarily malicious, just centered very much on the interests of self. But it doesn't take long to devolve into shoving matches over who gets to hand out the vitamins, hollered accusations about who is being too loud, and words like 'poopy-head' being spat in each other's general direction. Sometimes, but not always, we manage to avoid teeth marks on flesh.
Maybe it's easier to think of on toddlers. Maybe it's easier to think of as just happening the odd time - to delude ourselves into believing that that's not the real us. But those days are more reflective of our hearts than we would like to admit. We might not push, yell, name-call, or bite, but if we are honest, that sinful ugliness is right there inside of us and it comes out in one form or another day in and day out.
So what happens with my kids, in the middle of those days when I want to hide in the shower, eat their whole stash of Halloween chocolate, or take up drinking? Eventually, after they are separated, the tears are wiped away, and the drama has quieted, my four-year-old asks to pray. He asks to pray because he already know that he can't just decide to change his behaviour. He knows that resolving to do better is not going to fix things long-term. And he knows that spending time sitting with Jesus is what his heart needs. In simple words, he shares his struggles with Jesus, confesses that he is weak, and asks for more love in his heart. Oh-so-innocently, he trusts that Jesus has the power to change him on the side. Those few minutes fill him up and he marvels at the power of Jesus inside of him.
The trouble with being a grown-up is that we are more practiced at hiding our sin. And we are better at appearing more competent at doing things by our own power for longer periods of time between major down-on-our-knees-before-the-Lord melt-downs. Let me tell you, daily surrendering on the inside, is so much better than fighting to do things ourselves, somehow trying to prove that we can. We are so flawed. We are so weak and powerless. So human. So sinful. A thousand times we've failed.
But God? He is everlasting and His light will shine when all else fades. He is never-ending and His glory goes beyond all fame. Would you do what my four-year-old knows we need to do? Would you go to Jesus now? A thousand times we've failed, still His mercy remains. Should we stumble again, still we're caught in His grace. In our heart, and our souls, let us give Him control. Let Him consume us from the inside out. Take a few minutes right now, in your own heart, and tell Jesus where you are at, confess what you need to confess, and then praise Him for His grace and for who He is to you today.
...
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades. Never-ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame. And the cry of our hearts is to bring You praise, from the inside out, Lord, our souls cry out. Amen.
We are so flawed. We are so weak and powerless. So human. So sinful. A thousand times we've failed.
I know a lot about days like this because I live with many small children. Sometimes I can't even tell when these days are starting, as they begin fairly benign. Maybe one kid will get out of bed and immediately go to claim the favourite cereal bowl for himself - this month's favourite is yellow. Not necessarily malicious, just centered very much on the interests of self. But it doesn't take long to devolve into shoving matches over who gets to hand out the vitamins, hollered accusations about who is being too loud, and words like 'poopy-head' being spat in each other's general direction. Sometimes, but not always, we manage to avoid teeth marks on flesh.
Maybe it's easier to think of on toddlers. Maybe it's easier to think of as just happening the odd time - to delude ourselves into believing that that's not the real us. But those days are more reflective of our hearts than we would like to admit. We might not push, yell, name-call, or bite, but if we are honest, that sinful ugliness is right there inside of us and it comes out in one form or another day in and day out.
So what happens with my kids, in the middle of those days when I want to hide in the shower, eat their whole stash of Halloween chocolate, or take up drinking? Eventually, after they are separated, the tears are wiped away, and the drama has quieted, my four-year-old asks to pray. He asks to pray because he already know that he can't just decide to change his behaviour. He knows that resolving to do better is not going to fix things long-term. And he knows that spending time sitting with Jesus is what his heart needs. In simple words, he shares his struggles with Jesus, confesses that he is weak, and asks for more love in his heart. Oh-so-innocently, he trusts that Jesus has the power to change him on the side. Those few minutes fill him up and he marvels at the power of Jesus inside of him.
The trouble with being a grown-up is that we are more practiced at hiding our sin. And we are better at appearing more competent at doing things by our own power for longer periods of time between major down-on-our-knees-before-the-Lord melt-downs. Let me tell you, daily surrendering on the inside, is so much better than fighting to do things ourselves, somehow trying to prove that we can. We are so flawed. We are so weak and powerless. So human. So sinful. A thousand times we've failed.
But God? He is everlasting and His light will shine when all else fades. He is never-ending and His glory goes beyond all fame. Would you do what my four-year-old knows we need to do? Would you go to Jesus now? A thousand times we've failed, still His mercy remains. Should we stumble again, still we're caught in His grace. In our heart, and our souls, let us give Him control. Let Him consume us from the inside out. Take a few minutes right now, in your own heart, and tell Jesus where you are at, confess what you need to confess, and then praise Him for His grace and for who He is to you today.
...
Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades. Never-ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame. And the cry of our hearts is to bring You praise, from the inside out, Lord, our souls cry out. Amen.
Monday, 24 November 2014
Power (Isaiah 40:29)
Today I feel weak. Tired and stuffed-up and not at my physical best by any means. And the truth for the day is that you give power to the weak. The sinking feeling of irony when I read the verse this morning is being replaced with evidence of truth over and over as you give me power in my weakness today.
I praise you, Father, for being extreme. You don't use half-hearted words, make whimsical claims, or empty promises. You don't just give me a little boost, or the bare minimum to make it through the day. You give power. To me. Thank you for being the source of the power that motivates, energizes, and courses through my body, mind, and soul.
I praise you, Father, for being extreme. You don't use half-hearted words, make whimsical claims, or empty promises. You don't just give me a little boost, or the bare minimum to make it through the day. You give power. To me. Thank you for being the source of the power that motivates, energizes, and courses through my body, mind, and soul.
Thursday, 20 November 2014
Full of Grace
Colossians 4:6
Let your conversation be always full of grace
Why is this so much easier with anyone outside of my household than with those inside?
Listening with grace comes easily, when I am with the friend who is struggling with her demons, wondering if God has given up on her and if she should give up on God. Extending grace is second nature when it comes to a family member, whose particular pains and struggles I know about. Offering grace to a neighbour is natural, when I know that I am one of few examples of Christ he has in his life.
But with my children?
But with my husband?
Those are the conversations I wish were full of grace. Brimming with grace and empty of frustration, exhaustion, insensitivity, anger, mocking and eye-rolling, passive aggressive comments, and selfishness.
'Lord, let my conversations be always full of grace' is almost too big a prayer to pray.
But let grace fill every crevice of my sad and weary heart. So that it would overflow into thoughts and into words and into conversations. For today I pray, 'Lord let there be a portion of grace amidst my conversations and grow me to a place where I might step be drowning in the very fullness of grace.'
Let your conversation be always full of grace
Why is this so much easier with anyone outside of my household than with those inside?
Listening with grace comes easily, when I am with the friend who is struggling with her demons, wondering if God has given up on her and if she should give up on God. Extending grace is second nature when it comes to a family member, whose particular pains and struggles I know about. Offering grace to a neighbour is natural, when I know that I am one of few examples of Christ he has in his life.
But with my children?
But with my husband?
Those are the conversations I wish were full of grace. Brimming with grace and empty of frustration, exhaustion, insensitivity, anger, mocking and eye-rolling, passive aggressive comments, and selfishness.
'Lord, let my conversations be always full of grace' is almost too big a prayer to pray.
But let grace fill every crevice of my sad and weary heart. So that it would overflow into thoughts and into words and into conversations. For today I pray, 'Lord let there be a portion of grace amidst my conversations and grow me to a place where I might step be drowning in the very fullness of grace.'
Tough
This is tough. But you are tougher than you know. Dutifully, you carry your day's load of books - mostly Franklin and Berenstain Bears. You whisper that you will tell the nurse which story is your favourite - even as you are shy to even think about speaking to a nurse. You ask if it's still snowing outside and wonder wehether we will get the room beside the Christmas tree. You don't want to be here any more than I do, yet you excitedly check around the corner from triage to see what show is on in the waiting room. Toopy & Binoo get your cheer of approval. You blast right through the intake process of thermometers, blood pressure cuffs, and the finger clip with the red glow. As a nurse prints your bracelet you call out to her that you got a bracelet at Tinkertown too. With every new doctor or nurse that enters the room, you avert your eyes, wisely not trusting these people with sharp objects. But slowly, each of them gets you to open up a little bit more, some of them even earning a sly smile or goofy grin. A few hours later we pack up to go, your body filled with the medicine it needs to fight this bugger, your bag filled with as many stickers as you had needle-pricks, your mind filled with thoughts of the Franklin book that the last doctor suggested, and your heart filled with the pride and confidence that only come by overcoming. You are tougher than you know.
Tuesday, 18 November 2014
2 Thessalonians 3:5
Direct my heart into Your love, where it is safely harboured
from the opinions of others, especially my own.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it skips a beat with excitement
and then pounds only to know more of You.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it grows deep roots
that can weather every doubt and difficulty ahead.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it is filled to overflowing
with Your goodness and grace and mercy and peace and joy and patience.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it can channel
the Resource those around me so desperately need.
Jesus, direct my heart into Your love.
Jesus, direct my heart into You.
Jesus, direct my heart.
from the opinions of others, especially my own.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it skips a beat with excitement
and then pounds only to know more of You.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it grows deep roots
that can weather every doubt and difficulty ahead.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it is filled to overflowing
with Your goodness and grace and mercy and peace and joy and patience.
Direct my heart into Your love, where it can channel
the Resource those around me so desperately need.
Jesus, direct my heart into Your love.
Jesus, direct my heart into You.
Jesus, direct my heart.
Monday, 17 November 2014
THAN(i)K(o)FUL
The way you go back outside to push the stroller into the garage while I am undressing your brothers after our first real winter walk. You don't say a word before or after and I don't even notice until half an hour later when I remember to go put it away myself. As I find it perfectly returned to its place and the garage door closed - who knew you could even reach that high? - I am so overwhelmed with thankfulness for you, Niko. Your awareness of what needs to be done, your willingness to help out where you can, and your humility to allow your work to go unnoticed. I am so honoured to parent the amazing little dude you are.
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