A New Kind of Normal

As I connect with friends and family, all talk turns to the same subject: Christmas. The lights are up and on. The trees are decorated. Every church has its program scheduled and advertised. Shops are crowded and parking lots are filled. It's the same old same old, isn't it? But what if you're facing a different kind of Christmas this year? What if you're wondering what to do about that empty seat at the dining table? Are you asking who's going to make that special recipe? Is there someone so sick that they can't fill their normal obligations? Because of a medical diagnosis, are you having to completely revise your menu? What if your world was turned upside down this year and you're having to find a 'new kind of normal'? And that includes Christmas?

Don't you wonder how in the world you're supposed to celebrate when you see absolutely no reason to? Growing up I had amazing parents who made Christmas one of the most magical times of the year. Well that changed as I became an adult. Those changes didn't mean anything negative. They were just a new kind of normal. The magic returned when my niece and nephews were born. It may have been different, but it was just as beautiful to be a part of making that magic instead of receiving it.

But I know there are some of you reading this who are wondering. How do I celebrate this year? How can there be any magic when he/she is gone? What's the reason for the decorations if that little one won't be there to enjoy them? Aren't those romantic movies and commercials murder when the romance has disappeared? Who has time for a holiday when life can be counted by the minutes? Do you just pretend? Do we put on that mask and give everyone else the impression that we are alright?

Sometimes what was before will never be that way again. Maybe life is forever changed. We can be living in 'a new kind of normal'. How do we navigate that through a holiday like Christmas? There can be no other answer than carefully. Allow your hand to rest in His. While we try to celebrate His coming in our new way, know that He doesn't expect the old way. He just wants you to acknowledge Him. He just wants your heart this and every other day of the year. Maybe He's carrying you this Christmas, just as Mary carried Him. Let Him. Cry out to Him. And remember that when there are no other answers, when those verses feel empty... There is Jesus. And He's holding you.

Nails

For several years I worked in Christian retail. I realized it was time to leave when I began to dread Christmas. A couple of years before I found other means, a new product came out. It was the beginning of the Christmas season and a new batch of ornaments had just arrived. This new product was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was an ornament. And it was a nail. A huge nail. It was heavy and truth be told, nothing like the beautiful and quirky ornaments around it. Now, I don't know what kind of nails held our Savior on that Cross, but the point is that this new ornament is a moden representation of those nails. The instructions that with it stated that it is too heavy to hang on the outer branches of the Christmas tree. It isn't meant to be decorative. It is meant to be hung before anything else, even the lights. It is the foundation of the decorating of the tree.

Isn't that true of our walk with Christ? Aren't those nails and Cross the foundation of our lives? They are not meant to decorate our lives or make us look good. They are there to remind us that without those nails, our lives would be usless. Without those nails, there would be no reason to celebrate this month. If not for that Cross, we would live without hope.

I just hung that nail on my Christmas tree. Every year I hang it in the same area. And I stop and think every year. And I remember. I remember that without that Baby. Without the miracle of His birth, I would not know Him. But if He had never shed His blood. If He had decided that the Cross would be too hard to endure. If He had just gone fishing with the disciples instead, then all this would be in vain. But He didn't. He died. He rose back to life. Just for me. Just for you.

Remember that as you decorate your own tree. As you put up the lights. As you listen to the Christmas music radio station. All of these things point to the Cross. And those nails.

Merry Christmas!

When You Are Low on Hope

This was waiting in my e-mail box last night. As it has been a particularly trying week, I know that the timing is not a coincedence. Now I'm sure that I'm not the only person who's struggling, so I decided to pass these words of wisdom on to you.

When You Are Low on Hope
by Max Lucado

Water. All Noah can see is water. The evening sun sinks into it. The clouds are reflected in it. His boat is surrounded by it. Water. Water to the north. Water to the south. Water to the east. Water to the west. Water.
He sent a raven on a scouting mission; it never returned. He sent a dove. It came back shivering and spent, having found no place to roost. Then, just this morning, he tried again. With a prayer he let it go and watched until the bird was no bigger than a speck on a window.
All day he looked for the dove’s return.
Now the sun is setting, and the sky is darkening, and he has come to look one final time, but all he sees is water. Water to the north. Water to the south. Water to the east. Water to the …
You know the feeling. You have stood where Noah stood. You’ve known your share of floods. Flooded by sorrow at the cemetery, stress at the office, anger at the disability in your body or the inability of your spouse. You’ve seen the floodwater rise, and you’ve likely seen the sun set on your hopes as well. You’ve been on Noah’s boat.
And you’ve needed what Noah needed; you’ve needed some hope. You’re not asking for a helicopter rescue, but the sound of one would be nice. Hope doesn’t promise an instant solution but rather the possibility of an eventual one. Sometimes all we need is a little hope.
That’s all Noah needed. And that’s all Noah received.
Here is how the Bible describes the moment: “When the dove returned to him in the evening, there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf!” (Gen. 8:11 NIV).
An olive leaf. Noah would have been happy to have the bird but to have the leaf! This leaf was more than foliage; this was promise. The bird brought more than a piece of a tree; it brought hope. For isn’t that what hope is? Hope is an olive leaf—evidence of dry land after a flood. Proof to the dreamer that dreaming is worth the risk.
Don’t we love the olive leaves of life? “It appears the cancer may be in remission.” “I can help you with those finances.” “We’ll get through this together.” What’s more, don’t we love the doves that bring them? Perhaps that’s the reason so many loved Jesus.
To all the Noahs of the world, to all who search the horizon for a fleck of hope, he proclaims, “Yes!” And he comes. He comes as a dove. He comes bearing fruit from a distant land, from our future home. He comes with a leaf of hope.
Have you received yours? Don’t think your ark is too isolated. Don’t think your flood is too wide. Receive his hope, won’t you? Receive it because you need it. Receive it so you can share it.
Love always hopes. “Love … bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor. 13:4–7 NKJV, emphasis mine).

From A Love Worth GivingCopyright (Thomas Nelson, 2002) Max Lucado

Last night, my sister and I saw a preview for the movie 2012. All I understood was that in December 2012, life as we know it is supposed to be over. New concept, I know. But the special effects of this preview were amazing as the foundation of Los Angeles (and I suppose the rest of the world) begins to buckle. Houses, buildings and bridges were folding over on themselves. Needless to say, it was a very intense preview. And quite fun to watch from the comfort of my recliner in my safe den. Isn't that why we enjoy scary and thrilling entertainment? While we sit comfortable and safe?

But what about when those devastating things happen to us? Much easier when it's fiction isn't it? Jesus' disciples lived through one of those events. Oh, it's easy, when we are sitting in our chairs to criticize them for not waiting three days. For believing that He was actually dead and that all their dreams and hopes were in the tomb with Him. See, we know the rest of the story, but they didn't. It hadn't happened yet and their world had been turned upside down. If you haven't lived through one or more of those moments, you are either very young or you aren't being completely truthful.

I call those moments, Bizarro World moments. When everything you believe and stand upon is suddenly the opposite. When red means go and green means stop. When he walks in and tells you that he doesn't love you. When you are no longer a valued employee and it's time for you to go. When your accountant informs you that you no longer have any money in the bank. When an obedient child has bad news for you. When your pastor decides to begin a new life with the organist. The equator is now the coldest place on earth and gravity no longer applies. And death would seem easier than living in the aftermath.

Did death on a Roman cross change the fact that Jesus was/is the Messiah? No, but it sure seemed that way for His followers. When we stand in the middle of rubble and death, is He still God? Does that verse in Jeremiah still apply? Can this be His plan? Who is He now? He is still God. He still loves us. He still has a plan. I know this because He has stayed by my side through destruction. He has stayed by my side when I have turned away from Him. He has stayed by my side when I shook my fists at Him. Stop looking at the destruction and death. Begin to look for Him. I promise you, He's by your side, too. Just waiting for you to turn to Him. And cry on His shoulder.

The World

"But to me, Baby, you are the world."

Sixteen years ago, tomorrow was a very special day. I was still in my 20's. I had been back in the US from Japan less than six months. For the first time, I was living in the same town as my brother and his wife. And just a few minutes after 12 noon, I met the most amazing girl. She was only minutes old and she was my brother's daughter. His first born. His princess. And, it turns out, his only daughter. He (along with Janet) have given me two fun, delightful and brilliant nephews since then but this one's about her. The beautiful girl in this picture.

You see, she may just look like any other girl to you, but she is a vibrant part of my world. I was in Japan when Richard and Janet called me from Birmingham and asked how 'Aunt Lara' would be said in Japanese. From that moment, the foundation of my world changed. I watched my brother sing to her before she was born, pressing his chin to Janet's belly. We all fell in love with her before she even breathed her first breath. Then there she was, two weeks later than she was supposed to be here, being carried down that hallway by my brother. She was red and screaming. Dark brown curls all over her head. A few days later, I was holding her and singing to her. I still do that, by the way. And for the first time in my life, I understood unconditional love. I realized that there was nothing this girl could do that would change my love for her. No matter what she became. No matter what choices she made in her life. My love could do nothing but grow for her. I have had those moments with each of her brothers, too.

Now, here we are. Tomorrow she turns 16. She has done nothing but grow more amazing and more beautiful. She has such talent and heart. While she and her brothers do not and can not mean more to me than my Lord, they are a huge part of my world. You might even say vital. You might never have a chance to meet her, so I thought I'd do the honors.

There she is, the most beautiful of nieces! My Carlie! Sweet sixteen. I love you, my dear girl!

Failure

A few days ago, I was in the middle of heavy traffic on one of Alabama's busiest highways, Hwy 280. All I wanted was a pedicure and there I was, stuck in non-moving traffic. Everyone in Birmingham knows about 280, and we all HATE it!!! Sitting there I looked at all the stopped cars and buildings in front of me. There on the right, just after the I459 overpass, it was. A towering symbol of one man's failure. Several years ago, Richard Scrushy came under indicted for money laundering, extortion, obstruction of justice, racketeering and bribery. He pleaded not guilty, but was convicted in 2006. Sometime before all this mess, he received the ok to build this beautiful, yet useless, building. It's purpose was to become the latest in cutting edge of health care. The world's top digital hospital.

Everyone in Birmingham is familiar with this building that towers over 280. This empty building. It has become a constant reminder of all the things that Scrushy did wrong. And that made me wonder. What if our failures were placed in blinding notice of the world on the busiest highway in town? What if they were so tall that they were visible from far away. What if they had outer walls of glass and mirror so that they reflected every time the sun rises and sets? And what if you had to drive past them at least twice a day for you and everyone else on the road to see? Pretty humiliating thought, isn't it? Our failures can feel that big and obvious, but most of the time they are not. Thankfully! While they may feel that way, at least our failures are not broadcast on the national news.

But even if they are that big and that well known, there is one thing that is bigger than that glass and steel building on Hwy 280. Can you guess? It's the Cross of Jesus Christ. There is nothing we can do that His Blood does not cover. There is no failure so large and well known that His Cross cannot shadow. While we are never free from the consequences of our sins and failures, we can ALWAYS be forgiven. Richard Scrushy is in prison right now, that cannot change. The empty, beautiful building still towers uselessly over 280 and that has not changed. A lot of people lost their jobs and savings through his actions. That will not change. But our God, Who is in the business of forgiving, has made Himself available to forgive Richard Scrushy. He has also made Himself available to forgive you. No matter what you've done. No matter how visible your failure is or isn't. Pretty cool, huh?

Seventy-one years ago, tomorrow, my father was born. In the Mississippi delta, September of 1938, there was no hospital for a delivering mother to find. I don't know what, if any prenatal care my grandmother had. We have no way of knowing my Mamaw's actual due date for Papa. I still wonder just how far along she was in her pregnancy. The only information I have is that, after eight healthy deliveries, my grandmother gave birth to the man you see in this picture. Thankfully a doctor was there to help my Mamaw. When the doctor held my father in his hands, there looked to be no hope for Papa's survival. Papa was tiny. Too small to survive. Too early for his lungs to have developed. Papa's body fit into one of the doctor's hands, while his head fit into the other. Premature births can be a devastating experience and the parents are not promised tomorrow. Papa weighed in at about 2.5 pounds. The doctor believed that this baby was dead. Until... Don't you LOVE that word? Until my father let out a bellow. The doctors response? Nothing wrong with those lungs! Don't you love it?

This wonderful man who raised me truly does have a set of lungs. Ones that should not have been fully formed when he was born. At first he slept in his older sister's baby doll bed. When winter came, he slept in an open dresser drawer. I hope that you someday get an opportunity to hear my father sing. He followed the Lord's call into music ministry. He's seen countless changes in music. He even recorded a record when I was a little girl. No one sings How Great Thou Art like my Papa. Lisa & I believe that they honestly don't make them like our Papa! When he calls my office to talk to me, he announces himself as Papa. So you can call him that too. So, I welcome you to celebrate Papa's (Donald Moore) birthday tomorrow. That's what we will be doing.