Fifth Advent: God’s Wild Pursuit

Who doesn’t light up at the sparkly-eyed expectation and thrill of children on Christmas Eve?! I remember lying awake all night as a child, the relief of sleep coming only in short and shallow doses before excitement woke me up again. It was the longest night of the year!     

For children, Christmas is a time to dream. It's a time to linger over wish lists and make one's greatest desires known, not just to moms and dads, but to the universe. Christmas speaks to them of the possibility of the things they long for but are beyond their grasp, of hopes and dreams coming true, of the impossible becoming possible. 

The Fourth Advent: Peace on Earth

The fourth candle of advent turns our focus to the peace that was proclaimed hundreds of years before Christ’s birth by Isaiah, and then again on the night of his birth by a chorus of other-worldly beings that emerged from the heavens. Their announcement was made to a company of humble shepherds keeping watch over their flocks of sheep in the hills near Bethlehem. 

It’s hard to imagine what such a proclamation would have meant to the ancient Israelites, but we can we envision “peace on earth” today? We are constantly made aware of volatile situations around the world that have the potential to erupt at any time; there are desperate people fleeing the poverty and violence of their homelands; families are hunkering down in refugee camps, and moms and dads are clutching their children tightly in war-torn and bombed out cities. Seeing the images in the news and watching videos of raw footage online can make the idea of peace seem far-fetched, even ludicrous.

But before peace can come between men to create good will towards each other and a peaceful world for people to live in, peace must live inside of man. 

The Third Advent: the Grace of Christmas Joy

Joy to the world, the Lord has come! Let earth receive her King! 

Let’s be real – there are days when the stuff we have to deal with has the power to sap the joy out of the entire week. Our own worries, stresses, disappointments, pressures, conflicts, and sadnesses have that capability, let alone circumstances around the world that we cannot help but be affected by. And for many people, the Christmas season – a time when joy is supposed to be at a premium – is often when the lack of it is intensified.

The Second Advent: Love Goes to War

“A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head. 2 She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth.” Rev 12:1,2

“and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” Luke 2:7

There is a scene described in the twelfth chapter of the book of Revelation that takes away my breath every time I read it. It’s a version of the Christmas story that we do not see depicted on Christmas cards and it brings to mind those surreal battle scenes from the Lord of the Rings movies. It’s the passage that I turn to when I start to lose sight of God’s love for me and the bigger picture of what is really going on around me. 

Awakening to the Wonder of Christmas, Advent Week One

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us)." 

Matthew 1:23 

For more than 700 years God’s people waited to see the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy of one who was to be born to a virgin and known by the name Immanuel, the one who was to inherit the throne of Israel’s greatest king, David. Now, the announcements of the child who was conceived in a young virgin woman fanned into bursting flame the hopes that had been smouldering for eons.

A meditation for confession and redemption

Father in heaven, gracious maker of my being, of all that is seen and unseen; the giver of all that is good, and the sustainer and light of life.

You are the one who is deserving of every ounce of praise and glory and honour I can eke out of these bones, and it is to you that I come in this hour. 

I come naked in my frailty, in my humanness, in my failure, and in my need of you.

An offering of presence in my neighbourhood

Photo by Nina Strehl on Unsplash

In the parable of the good Samaritan Jesus provided a provocative answer to the question, “Who is my neighbour (that I must love as I love myself)?” What Jesus revealed in his story is that there is not a person in this world to whom we can point and say, “He or she is not my neighbour.” The literal answer, though, is that our neighbours are the people who live next door to us, across the street, and down on the next block. 

When seasons change, things may get ugly

This was last week. Last week fall was my favourite season. The colours were at their best, and everywhere you looked there was another glorious scene to salivate over. But then October faded and cued November's cold rain and powerful gales. Today, in my yard, I am fighting despair as I stand almost knee deep in leaves.

Yesterday I could feel the elation of last week seeping out as I drove past a patch of bare forest, naked and brown. I felt sorry for the trees, all stripped of their radiance. Then the thought struck me that the woods were simply in transition. This is temporary, and how lovely is it going to be in our next season, when all that brown will be blanketed in dazzling white and be made beautiful once again?!

Transition in life is often a time when things don't look very pretty. It's an in-between stage where, like the trees, your old wardrobe is being taken away before you get your new clothes.

Roll Call: Who is present?

“At the very beginning God created the heavens and the earth as the place of his presence …. The Scriptures, from beginning to end, tell the marvelous story of God returning his presence to all creation. It was always God’s intent to be with his creation in the fullness of his presence.” David E. Fitch, Faithful Presence 

Photo by The Creative Exchange on Unsplash

Being present in our own lives has become increasingly challenging; there is so much noise all around, so many opportunities and activities available to us, and so many distractions make it so difficult. Being aware and tuned into God’s presence around us can be doubly challenging. I suspect, though, that if we were not distracted to God and what he is up to around us, then we would be present in our lives as well. This last week the prayer I’ve been repeating several times a day is simply, “Help me to be present to your presence.”

Four Things I Forgot

“...do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought at a price.” (1 Cor 6:19, 20a)

I was startled by the words of the Apostle Paul that I read one morning last week.  I’ve read them before, of course, but they startled me anyway. Too often, in my head, I have to be the one reminding God who I am, what my name is, what’s going on in my life and that HELLO... I'm over here!! I feel like I have to implore him not to forget about my details, and plead for a sign that my number will come up at some point. These feelings intensify in valleys where the shadows loom dark, and the voices of fear, worry, grief, and sorrow are deafening. But last week, the tables were deftly turned, and the question of who was remembering – or not – was pointed to me. There were four things from Paul’s words which I needed to remember.

A Thanksgiving meditation

I'll give thanks to the Lord always, and I'll say it again, I give thanks, because God's steadfast love  never ceases and his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning. Great is his faithfulness!

The heavens and the earth are filled with his glory; the handiwork of his fingers  is evident everywhere.

I see his glory when I crane my neck to look up into the heavens on a clear night; my mind cannot grasp the vastness of the skies, but he knows every single star by its name.

How powerful is this God?

And when I walk through the forest by day I revel in the blazing tapestries there. 

I think about the miracles in a single droplet of water;

and the complexities of the microscopic worlds within each cell;

and the billions of worlds within this tiny patch of the world, 

invisible to the naked eye and oblivious by-passer, but 

quietly, efficiently, steadfastly, 

season after season, 

carrying out their marvellous functions.

When it's Monday and you already need Friday...

“And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.” Mark 9:2 

This morning I woke up with a lot of clamour in my head. The weekend was busy and noisy and I hadn’t had a chance to process all the stuff going on and get my myself in a good frame on mind to start out the new week. This morning I also woke up feeling burdened and heavy. There are lots of people I care about going through trying times and it had been awhile since I’d been able to unload and release them to God. This morning I woke up feeling disconnected, a bit disoriented, and feeling the need to find my way back to my path again. When I woke up this morning I was aching to get away by myself on a high mountain with Jesus somewhere so I could clear out the noise, pray for my people, and reorient myself and my heart to him again. 

Holy Intersections

"Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!" Psalm 34:8

When I tumbled into belonging to that extraordinarily blessed group of people called God’s children, I was completely unprepared for just how blessed I was to become. “Blessed are the poor in spirit... those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted…” Blessed, right now and forevermore, is anyone and everyone who finds and enters into the Kingdom that is Among Us.

These stones are alive!

“As you come to him, a living stone … you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house..." 1 Peter 2:4(a)

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Twelve large standing stones, hauled up from the bed of the Jordan River, stood on the east bank and cast their tall, rounded shadows on travellers and passersby. It was evident that each stone had been purposefully and laboriously erected at some point in days gone by. They were there as a memorial and a witness to some unusual happening that should not – and could not – be forgotten.

Young children, clutching the hands of their adults as they walked along the way, squinted upward at the towering rocks.

“Why are those rocks there?” they would ask. Parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles gladly pressed the pause button in their day and sit in the coolness of the shadows for a few sacred moments of story-telling.