Archives for December 2012

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 5

December 6, 2012 By Diana

These pictures were taken in 1967 in what is now Zimbabwe, at Matopos National Park. The second and third of these three shots are of the same oddly shaped and extremely large rock with a sheltering ledge built right into it. The paintings drawn under that ledge attest to it’s use as a safe refuge.

“Truly my soul finds rest in God;

my salvation comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

How long will you assault me?

Would all of you throw me down —

this leaning wall, this tottering fence?

Surely they intend to topple me

from my lofty place;

they take delight in lies.

With their mouths they bless,

but in their hearts they curse.

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

My salvation and my honor depend on God;

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge.

Surely the lowborn are but a breath,

the highborn are but a lie.

If weighed on a balance, they are nothing;

together they are only a breath.

Do not trust in extortion

or put vain hopes in stolen goods;

though your riches increase,

do not set your heart on them.

One thing God has spoken,

two things I have heard;

‘Power belongs to you, God,

and with you, Lord, is unfailing love;’

and, ‘You reward everyone

according to what they have done.”

Psalm 62, TNIV

Whenever I read this psalm, I imagine the one who wrote it sitting high in the hills, looking out over some kind of rocky land mass. I have never been to Israel, but I have been to central Africa and as I read through this song for today, I remembered the overwhelming size of the rocks we saw there. Looking at such large, looming boulders is both daunting and deeply reassuring.

The psalmist sings out — cries out — for such reassurance, for refuge, for shelter, for a place to hide away, safely enfolded by God’s goodness and strength. There is an expressed need for bigness, for some sort of reminder that God is larger and stronger than any enemies who might be threatening. The singer wants to feel safe. And so the ‘controlling metaphor’ for his song is a great, big rock. A fortress-sized rock. An unmovable refuge.

We all want to feel safe. Yet we live in a decidedly unsafe world, with enemies of various kinds on all sides. Fiscal cliffs, sick children, struggling parents, and the very worst enemies of all — the voices inside our own heads, the ones that tell us we are worthless, useless, unloved and unwanted.

Advent invites us to sit with that unsafe feeling for a while, to listen to it — but also to speak back to it. Because Advent also invites us to sit with an expectant young mom and her brave husband, to join them in their waiting, in their uncertainty. And in their amazing trust. There is much we can learn from these two ordinary people, chosen by God for such extraordinary work.

I imagine that God alone was their Rock, their safe place, during much of the journey to Christmas morning.

I imagine that this very song was one of their favorites. I know it is one of mine.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me . . . there isn’t a rock on this planet large enough to picture YOU. But somehow, these earthy reminders help us to remember that you are bigger, stronger, more sheltering, and far safer than any trouble, struggle, or enemy we may encounter along the way. You never promised us an easy road; you promise us your presence in the midst of it. Thank you for being our Rock and our Refuge.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, Encouragement, hope

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 4

December 5, 2012 By Diana

“This is a vision that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem:

In the last days, the mountain of the Lord’s house

will be the highest of all —

the most important place on earth.

It will be raised above the other hills,

and people from all over the world will stream there to worship.

People from many nations will come and say,

‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,

to the house of Jacob’s God.

There he will teach us his ways,

and we will walk in his paths.’

For the LORD’s teaching will go out from Zion;

his word will go out from Jerusalem.

The LORD will mediate between nations

and will settle international disputes.

They will hammer their swords into plowshares

and their spears into pruning hooks.

Nation will no longer fight against nation,

nor train for war anymore.”

Isaiah 2:1-4, NLT

Sometimes I think it would be truly grand to have a vision. To see something spectacular and hopeful and encouraging, to see it in living color, larger than life and rich with meaning.

This vision of Isaiah’s is a corker, isn’t it? Overflowing with such magnificent images! People moving like living water to God’s holy mountain, God himself settling any disputes. And this one – no more training for war. Turning weapons into farm implements — in essence — turning away from darkness and into the full light of God’s glorious presence.

YES! I’d love to have a vision like that.

And then, I realize.

I DO have a vision like that. . . this very one, right here in front of us on this blustery Advent Wednesday. I don’t believe Isaiah wrote this one down just for the heck of it — no, I don’t. I believe Isaiah, or someone writing under his grand name, wrote this down at the insistence of the Holy Spirit, precisely so that we could read it today.

Because this is a vision that every generation needs to see, this is a picture that all peoples need to have hanging on the walls of their hearts. This is a painting dripping with the colors of life and hope and expectation. And this is a vision perfectly designed for Advent, these 24 days of paying attention, of stilling ourselves so that we can see more clearly, of expecting God to show up in ways that surprise us and slow us and save us.

This is a vision of God’s desired future and this is a promise of wondrous things to come. Wondrous things that can begin now, inside of us, and spreading through us, to larger and larger circles of others who have eyes to see what God is up to in this world. “In the last days…” Every one of us lives in the last days. Every generation since Jesus walked the earth has lived in the last days. Every generation since Jesus has been slowly, slowly, slowly heading, like rivers of water, to God’s holy mountain.

And one day soon, we’re going to get there. Glory be!

We’re looking for you, Lord. We’re looking for you on that high mountain. We want to be a twig in that river that will stream upwards toward you! So now, while we wait, while we watch – will you teach us your ways and show us how to walk in your paths? We want to be ready. We want to be ready!

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, daily devo, Encouragement, hope

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 3

December 4, 2012 By Diana

“Praise the LORD!

Let all that I am praise the LORD.

I will praise the LORD as long as I live.

I will sing praises to my God with my dying breath.

Don’t put your confidence in powerful people;

there is no help for you there.

When they breathe their last, they return to the earth,

and all their plans die with them.

But joyful are those who have the God of Israel as their helper,

whose hope is in the LORD their God.

He made heaven and earth,

the sea, and everything in them.

He keeps every promise forever.

He gives justice to the oppressed

and food to the hungry.

The LORD frees the prisoners.

The LORD opens the eyes of the blind.

The LORD lifts up those who are weighed down.

The LORD loves the godly.

The LORD protects the foreigners among us.

He cares for the orphans and widows,

but he frustrates the plans of the wicked.

The LORD will reign forever.

He will be your God, Jerusalem, throughout the generations.

Praise the LORD!

— Psalm 146, NLT

Whenever I read a psalm like this, I have the sense that I’m eavesdropping on the whole of creation. The green hills, the weathered trees, the surging sea — they all know this song and they sing it so beautifully.

Yet my song is needed in this chorus, too. And so is yours.

Look at the list in these verses. All those lines that begin with, “The LORD. . .” Does that list seem vaguely familiar? To me, it is an overtone, in harmony with the Isaiah scroll from which Jesus read as he began his walking-around ministry, the words that he says are fulfilled in the hearing of the synagogue.

The Lord God made the heavens and the earth and the sea and everything in them — and the psalmist recognizes that. But over and above and around and through all of that wondrous creative genius, there is the shining thread of humanity, people.

Like me, like you, like Jesus.

Those who are oppressed and suffering, those who are orphans and widows, those who are victims of injustice, those with broken hearts, those who are starving and those who are blind.

And that means each and every one of us.

Even we who are overfed and well-used to justice — even we need a God who keeps promises, a God who lifts us up when we are weighed down.

Here’s the interesting part, though. WE are the ones through whom those promises are kept and those heavy-hearted ones are lifted. Smack dab in the middle of God’s plan for creation, God’s plan for salvation, God’s plan for reconciliation – we are planted. Because the God Who Is Spirit needs legs and arms and mouths and eyes and ears and tongues in order to make all things new.

Jesus came to show us how it’s done. And now, it’s our turn. Are you ready? Are you willing to be a piece of the Puzzle?

I’ll admit, Lord, that I love the creation parts to this song. I’ll sit and look at the ocean and praise your name any day of the week. But these people you made? Well, some of them are a whole lot tougher to sing songs about. So, will you help me to BE the harmony line you’ve designed me to be? Help me to let you sing through me to those with whom I interact and to spread my song far and wide through prayer and gifts and encouragement? Thank you ahead of time. Oh — I’m going to need a lot of reminders about this part, okay? Thanks, again.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, Encouragement

An Advent Journal: Stop, Look, Listen – Day 2

December 3, 2012 By Diana

“I, Paul, together here with Silas and Timothy, send greetings to the church at Thessalonica, Christians assembled by God the Father and by the Master, Jesus Christ. God’s amazing grace be with you! God’s robust peace!

Every time we think of you, we thank God for you. Day and night you’re in our prayers as we call to mind your work of faith, your labor of love, and your patience of hope in following our Master, Jesus Christ, before God our Father. It is clear to us, friends, that God not only loves you very much, but also has put his hand on you for something special. When the Message we preached came to you, it wasn’t just words. Something happened in you. The Holy Spirit put steel in your convictions.

You paid careful attention to the way we lived among you, and determined to live that way yourselves. In imitating us, you imitated the Master. Although great trouble accompanied the Word, you were able to take great joy from the Holy Spirit — taking the trouble with the joy, the joy with the trouble.

Do you know that all over the provinces of both Macedonia and Achaia believers look up to you? The word has gotten around. Your lives are echoing the Master’s Word, not only in the provinces, but all over the place. The news of your faith in God is out. We don’t even have to say anything anymore — you’re the message! People come up and tell us how you received us with open arms, how you deserted the dead idols of your old life so you could embrace and serve God. They marvel at how expectantly you await the arrival of his Son, whom he raised from the dead — Jesus, who rescued us from certain doom. — 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10, The Message

There are times in life when the sight of one beautiful red leaf in the middle of a rain-soaked sidewalk is enough to carry you through all kinds of puddles ahead. The day may be grim, the majority of the leaves dried up and rattling in the wind, but there it is. That one thing of beauty, the one that makes you gasp and say, “Thank you!” The one that makes you remember the joy.

It’s not that the puddles disappear or that the brown leaves are suddenly green again. No. The ugliness remains. But somehow, all that is dead and dying is more bearable, a kind of balance has been struck. I cannot explain it, I only know it when it happens. “Taking the trouble with the joy, the joy with the trouble.”

And into the middle of gray days and bone-chilling winds and too-early darkness comes. . . Advent. A small candle flickering against the gloom, a beacon of hope and promise. A time to wait, yes. But a time to wait with hope.

Where is your red leaf today? Where do you find hope?

Adjust our vision, Lord. Help us to see the trembling flame, the single shining beacon that will lead us to the center of the fulcrum. Help us to find that balance between trouble and joy. And then embolden us to help others find it, too. It doesn’t take much, does it? Just something the size of a red leaf.

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo, Encouragement, ministry, Spiritual Formation

An Advent Journey: Stop, Look, Listen – Day One, First Sunday

December 2, 2012 By Diana

“O LORD, I give my life to you.

I trust in you, my God!

Do not let me be disgraced,

or let my enemies rejoice in my defeat.

No one who trusts in you will ever be disgraced,

but disgrace comes to those who try to deceive others.

Show me the right path, O LORD;

point out the road for me to follow.

Lead me by your truth and teach me,

for you are the God who saves me.

All day long I put my hope in you.

Remember, O LORD, your compassion and unfailing love,

which you have shown from long ages past.

Do not remember the rebellious sins of my youth.

Remember me in the light of your unfailing love,

for you are merciful, O LORD.

The LORD is good and does what is right;

he shows the proper path to those who go astray.

He leads the humble in doing right,

teaching them his way.

The LORD leads with unfailing love and faithfulness

all who keep his covenant and obey his commands.”

Psalm 25:1-10, NLT

Somewhere on the internet this past week, I saw a little tidbit about Frederick Buechner’s ‘last’ book, one that he, one of the most popular Christian authors of the last 30 years, had a hard time getting published. To say I was stunned would be a very large understatement. So I promptly looked up the book (The Yellow Leaves: A Miscellany) and ordered a copy for myself. It was eventually published — now fours years ago (!) — and consists of remembrances, short essays, assorted bits and pieces from his long, literary life. I am loving it as I chew on a morsel or two each evening.

Here is a brief paragraph that grabbed me by the neck this past week and shook me pretty hard. It is part of a chapter entitled, “Bulletin Board,” in which Buechner describes a variety of photographs scattered around his office, telling a brief story about each person pictured:

“Frank Tracy Griswold, presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, is smiling benignly in his dog collar and steel-rimmed glasses, that strikingly intelligent, articulate, sweet-tempered man. He told me that once when he was taking a shower, he distinctly heard a voice from somewhere saying, ‘Why do you take your sins so much more seriously than I do?’ His first reaction was to burst into laughter. His second was to burst into tears.”

All my life, I’ve been taught that my sins, and the sins of everyone else in this wide, wonderful world, are the reason that Jesus came in the flesh. The love of God was in there somewhere, but my own sin sort of took center stage in the teaching of my youth. So reading a small, explosive paragraph like this one sometimes stops me in my tracks.

Then I read through the psalm for today, the first day of Advent – the first Sunday of Advent. And I remembered: the Psalmist, singing centuries before that Baby was born in the stable, the Psalmist sings about ‘unfailing love,’ about mercy, about God’s gentle guidance in the way that is right and true. This song is about God pointing the way, pointing the right way.

And I began to remember, to see, to celebrate that Jesus came to show us how: how to live in this world, how to die to this world, how to live forever. And showing us the way includes pointing out the sin that cripples and wounds us. It includes the shedding of precious blood and the rending of tender flesh that we might be healed. It includes learning to live in the center of God’s goodness and grace and ‘unfailing love.’

Contrition is right and good and necessary. Repentance is right and good and necessary. But focusing exclusively on how terrible we are ultimately turns the whole wonderful story completely on its head. Love comes first. Forgiveness comes first. Desire for relationship and healing and wholeness – these are far more serious than our sin. And that is cause for wonder, cause even for joyous laughter.

And that is also, of course, cause for tears. Tears of gratitude, humility, and tender homage. Because that precious Baby came — and that Glorious Savior will come — for love’s sake alone. Imagine that!

Point us in the right direction, Jesus. As we step into Advent this year, remind us where we fall short, yes, we need those reminders. But O LORD, whisper to us of love, sing to us of forgiveness, beckon us toward holy righteousness. Because YOU are righteous and because of Jesus, so are we. Thank you!

Filed Under: Advent, An Advent Journey, biblical reflection, church year, daily devo, Encouragement, God's gifts, Spiritual Formation

Small things… 2009 – Archive-Diving

December 2, 2012 By Diana

In this long process of moving my blog (sometime early in the new year, most likely), I am digging into the archives and re-editing some draft posts that were never published. This one was written over three years ago, right after I sent an email, intended for just one person, and accidentally sent it to hundreds. Yes. I did that. And it felt pretty horrible. Thankfully, God is gracious and so are God’s people and we all survived. I do not, however, recommend carelessness with email, or any other kind of correspondence. :>) Maybe someone out there can empathize with these sentiments:

It’s a funny thing about horizons. Depending on distance, objects can appear to be much smaller than they actually are.

30 foot fishing boats can appear to be no larger than a gnat when viewed from the shore. Sometimes life events are like that.

Things that seem like tiny errors can explode into potentially life-altering happenings in the blink of an eye.

Why is that? Perhaps because we live as fallen, broken people in a fallen, broken world. We are not perfect. We make mistakes, all the time.

We speak too quickly – and someone’s feelings are hurt.

Our eyes miss a date on the calendar and we fail to keep an appointment that is crucial.

We get in a hurry and cut off a conversation too soon, just as important revelations are to be made.

We fill our brains with so much information that the truly important stuff gets crowded out by what has been termed the ‘tyranny of the urgent.’

We don’t take the extra 2 minutes to move from reaction to response when we’re surprised or startled by something new, and we blurt things that should be stopped at the lips and eventually removed from the brain.

Lord, have mercy. We are your broken people, wanting to live in step with your sweet Spirit, but far too often missing the mark. Thank you for grace. Thank you for forgiveness. Thank you for the chance to start anew.

And save us from ourselves, please. We are far too often our own very worst enemies.

Filed Under: Archive-Diving, Confession, Spiritual Formation

Something Sweet for December…

December 1, 2012 By Diana

It’s that time of the month again – and I’m not talking hormones. It’s time to send sweet greetings to friends and family courtesy of TSP’s very fun adventure called, “Word Candy.” Chose a quote from a long list of categories, match it with a wonderful array of photos and post it on your blog, send it by email, tweet it or put it on your Facebook wall. Find your own fun by clicking on this line right here.

Tomorrow is the first official day of Advent and I’ll begin a series of daily devotionals in this space – much like I did during Lent earlier this year. A photo or two, a scripture passage for the day, a few reflections or a favorite quotation, and a short prayer. Gifts for the season, for you. And for me, too. May your waiting be rich and good this year.

This will serve as my Quiet for the Weekend post this week – joining with Sandy and with Deidra in being quiet and reflective today.