Saturday, May 9, 2015

Lilacs and Grandma's Vase

They both make me smile.

I have not written since December. 
I haven't had much to say.
Well, actually that isn't true, I always have
TOO MUCH to say.
I've been trying to exercise restraint.

But this sight just gave me the overwhelming urge to write.

There is a nice cluster of lilac bushes 
growing in an industrial park not far from here.
I'm pretty sure none of the factory workers 
care much if I come by and pilfer a few stems.
(I hope)

I always put them in this vase 
that belonged to my grandmother.
I don't feel I am saying anything negative about my grandmother 
when I say I was not her favorite. 
It's ok, I worked hard to get that distinction. 

One of my favorite (and I feel defining) stories
about my grandmother and me is from 
when she was dying.
We would all take turns
 sitting behind her on the bed,
 holding her in our arms, 
propping her up 
so as to make it easier for her to breathe. 
I was doing my rotation and at one point she looked 
up at me and said, 
"Merry you really are a good girl."
I said, 
"Grandma, you really don't feel well, do you?"

She really was a crusty old broad.
Guess I know where my smart mouth comes from.

But somehow, 
Lilacs and that vase make me smile
And remember grandma fondly. 

Here's hoping there's something that will make my kids 
smile and hopefully have a fond thought when I'm gone. 
Lord knows, they've put in their time with
this crusty old broad. 






Thursday, December 25, 2014

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Luke 24: 1-12
Cue the big music!
the spot lights!
All of heaven singing!
It is Resurrection Day!
Easter.
The reason for EVERY season!

Easter morning is the biggest and brightest to
me if I have observed Good Friday.
If so, I have spent a day reflecting
on the price Jesus paid for me 
and my petty sins.
Seems like they just don't match up...

My prayer is that tomorrow morning, 
Christmas Morning,
shines brighter for Lory and me 
and anyone else who has taken this month
long journey with us.

We have spent a month 
observing and reverencing
the cost to God to send
His own 
beloved son
to come to earth as a 
helpless, innocent baby,
into a poor family,
to grow into a righteous man,
to live a blameless life, 
only to be beaten and die a horrible death
to atone for my sins.

Thank you, God for sending 
Jesus The Christ
for me.
Amen


Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Royalty

I'm not a loyal royals watcher, but I do confess to a bit of curiosity when the news tease is about William, Kate and baby George.  I mean, they have it all:  good looks, perfect smiles, money, the perfect life.  Whatever they want, they have.  Seems idyllic.  I'm betting George has never known need is his entire, though short, life - and that isn't likely to change any time soon.

You know this is heading to another king, right?  What a contrast, though.  There were no 1000 count sheets comforting Mary's baby, just rough swaddling clothes with a straw mattress poking through.  It was a borrowed bed - borrowed from the cows and donkeys.

After a lifetime of service and giving and loving and teaching, He is laid to rest in a borrowed tomb - dependent again on the kindness of a stranger.  There was no state funeral - quite the opposite, actually.  The burial was hurried and the most basic customs placed on hold in deference to the Sabbath.  At least it was a new tomb.  It could have been a paupers grave if Joseph of Arimathea hadn't stepped up.

William, Kate and George have everything they desire - everything that money can buy, at least.  Jesus had nothing.  Throughout His life He was dependent on the kindnesses of others.  On the other hand, Jesus gave everything: His position, His lifetime, His life.

Now that's a royal I can watch.  
That's a royal I want to emulate.
That's my King!

Monday, December 22, 2014

Luke 23:44-49
Darkness fell, 
the curtain in the temple was torn in two. 
Jesus cried out and breathed his last.

Then, the centurion praised God and said
"surely this was a righteous man."
The people who had gathered to watch 
beat their breasts and went away.

Too little, too late.

It's not too late for any of us.
God reaches out to us every second of every day.
His mercies are new every day.
And twice a year we celebrate and 
proclaim God's great love for us.

It's the Christmas story.
It's the Christ story. 



Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Choices We Make

Sometimes it feels like life makes choices for us.  It's not true, of course.  At the very least, we chose how we will react what life presents.  Sometimes we get to see how two different people react to the same situation - a psychological microcosm.  Before Christ's birth, Zechariah and Elizabeth were just such a study in duality.

The angel Gabriel announced to Zechariah that his wife, well beyond childbearing years, would have a son.  "Name him John." (Luke 1:13-17)  Ever practical, Zechariah demanded proof - of God's messenger - as if a swelling belly would not have been enough.  And for his doubt, the father-to-be was struck mute for the next nine months.  Elizabeth, on the other hand, acknowledged and praised God for the babe.  (Luke 1:23-25)  She had the honor of naming her son - not Zechariah as tradition would have dictated, but John.  And the pronouncement of the child's name loosed her husband's tongue again.  (Isn't he glad she listened and obeyed?)

Thirty some years later, as Christ suffered on the cross, two others had a choice to make.  Both were criminals.  Both we receiving their just punishment.  Each hung next to the Christ, all condemned to die the same horrible death.  One joined the taunts of the crowd, "Save yourself and save us!" (Luke 23:39)  The other acknowledged Jesus' innocence,
his own guilt and asked forgiveness.  (Luke 23:40-41)  Christ, ever the gentleman, even to death, gave each man according to his heart.  And that made all the difference.

May we all be wise enough to ask for what we really need this Christmas -
The child
The Christ
Our Savior

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Luke 23: 26-31
Simon from Cyrene.
Why is he in here?
The Roman soldiers made him carry Jesus' cross.
Even the Roman soldiers could see, sometimes, 
you just can't do what you can't do.

There was no way that Jesus, 
beaten and bloodied
was ever gonna get to the top of the hill
with that weight.

God knows that
we can't do what we can't do. 
There is no amount of good deeds
we can do to take the weight of sin 
from our shoulders 
so that we can make it to heaven.

Simon came from Cyrene and carried a cross. 
Jesus came from the father and carried our sin.