Thursday, December 16, 2021

Showered With Love, Full of Love, Emptied By Love, Made Into Love: A Christmas Story

 Jay and I were talking about Jesus as a baby, and how did that work? At what age did he have awareness of who he was? I actually have no idea, but it is something to wonder over. Jesus, wordless and in a diaper. Being cared for, cleaned, and fed by human hands. 

At a ripe old age, we will eventually revert back to our baby selves, but in old bodies. I saw this with my Mema. Age and dementia took her away piece by piece.  I remember wondering where the rest of her was. Was her spirit still there? Was she trapped inside or was she just slipping away, and how much of ourselves do we shed, what is left that goes on? 

When she could still shower on her own I remember standing outside the bathroom door just listening, making sure all was well. When she got out  of the shower she was crying "Oh God, oh Lord, please help me. Please Jesus help me. I am so tired." Over and over again. It was so sad. So much of her privacy had been taken from her that I just stood and let her have her moment. She was so tender and vulnerable. Still aware enough to know she was slipping away from herself. I remember thinking, "Where are you, God? Why are you making her suffer this way?" The moment passed and after a few minutes of quiet, I knocked on the door, helped her dry off, and get dressed. 

Later that morning she sat on the porch with her lunch and sang to the birds. She marveled at how beautiful the day was and what a gift it was to sit in the sun. How gorgeous God's creation was. There are a million things I could tell you about my Mema. How she buried a son and then went shopping for her other two children at Christmas. How she would laugh and sing and play and cook, and sometimes her eyes would well up with tears. How she made up amazing stories and made us feel so loved.

When she endured hatred, pain, and loss it seemed God also filled her up with love. Her tenderness made space for love. She was radiant. Even that day in the bathroom crying out she was still radiant. Emptied and filled.

Jesus took the world aback with his tenderness. Born in a manger, rode on a donkey, befriended the exiles, defeated death by dying, and said things like "the least shall be the greatest." 

Mark says as he hung that Jesus said "My God, why have you forsaken me?" Luke tells that He said, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit." John records Christ's words as "It is finished." 

Emptied of His human life, He would be filled with enough love and mercy to save the entire world. 

Oh, this Christmas that we could think of life and death this way. We will be emptied and filled with eternal love and mercy from our first cries to our last exhale. That we would spend our days sharing with others with the radiance of God's love, even as we cry out for more. 



Saturday, December 4, 2021

Manger Hospitality

 Christmas is such a busy season.  I was thinking about what to say for the welcome at church tomorrow and my brain is frazzled and multi-tasking.  Presents and plans and gatherings.  Opportunities for service. Making sure it all gets into the calendar. Wrapping and cooking. All beautiful gifts of the season.  But, So. Very. Busy. And I am a person that loves white space much more than a full calendar.  

Baby Jesus we are told, was born in a manger, no room in the Inn. From what I understand about that time period, mangers were actually extensions of the home, often a lower level where animals were kept. This means someone did make space and offered what they had to welcome Mary and Joseph.  Jesus came into the world via imperfect hospitality. For many of us, imperfect hospitality is just about all we have to offer this time of year, and I really think it is a beautiful gift. 

This Christmas, I am trying to throw out perfection and embrace the messiness. Remember that Jesus both extended welcome and accepted others hospitality.  He was not worried about appearances, or place settings. He didn't offer a cold shoulder, but wide open arms. And that is what I hope to bring with me this season. 



Come Home, Dear One

Come home, dear one You left in search of what already was within To fill a longing birthed years ago Not safe Or not enough Or, perhaps, no...