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Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Growing Pains, AKA, the New Normal


In my last post, I discussed allowing myself to be thrown off kilter by a "Scrooge" after having an otherwise very balanced day. Subsequent to that post, "Scrooge" apologized for being grouchy, and I, likewise, took ownership of my grumpy reaction.

All was very copacetic with the person in question for awhile, but things took a turn for the worse again last night.

I wasn't expecting this, it being Christmas and all.

What happened to "Silent Night" with all being calm and bright?

My evening was more like "strident night, all is wild, all's a blight."

Ho, ho ho.

The thing is, I'm getting tired of the vicissitudes. The rolling back and forth with the waves of other people's dispositions and moods.

I crave equanimity in my own spirit.

And I claim it.

But how? 

After many years in a 12-step program, and even more years in God's boot camp, I'm coming to the realization that, if things are to going to change, the change must begin with me. 

If I'm to break the cycle of reacting and overreacting, grousing and apologizing, expecting and being disappointed - well, then, it's up to me to step off the hamster wheel. To "let the dervishes whirl," as it were. 

I guess I'm a slow learner.

There's a nice little reading in one of the Al-Anon pieces of literature that describes the process of letting go. Of allowing the other person in a relationship to choose his own attitudes and responses and decisions, and not holding him responsible for mine.

I'm thinking this makes a lot of sense.

Long before Al-Anon came along, a smart guy named James, inspired by the Holy Spirit, offered some similar advice:

My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 
knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways...
19 So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; 
20 for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God...
26 If anyone among you thinks he is religious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this one’s religion is useless...
Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded.

The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much. 

~ excerpts from The Book of James, found in The Bible
which consistently tops bestseller listsdespite efforts to eradicate its impact

So, I guess I’ve got some work to do.

But at least I’m in excellent company.



Monday, December 24, 2018

Shadowing the Master

Yesterday was another fine day.

All but the ending, that is.

My priorities were solid. Spent time with the Lord and the body of Christ in prayer and worship. Did what needed to be done, but in the right order. Put Jesus and family first.

But I allowed a "Scrooge" to shake my serenity at the end of the day.

Why does there always have to be a Scrooge stomping around and making everybody miserable?

Maybe for the same reason Caesar and Herod threw their weight around during the first Christmas celebration.

The former did his best to keep Christ's homeland under oppression and taxation that could have ruined day to day life for His parents, had they allowed it. But instead they continued with their lives, preparing for the business of marriage and family building, with the understanding that a sovereign God was in control and in charge of their futures, present circumstances notwithstanding.

The latter took things a step further, using all the resources at his disposal in an effort to make sure the Savior never got a chance to do what He came to earth to do.

Both thugs used their respective power in such a way that kept Jesus's family on the go and even on the run.

Talk about "Bah, Humbug."

Think donkey travel (or foot travel, as some suggest would have been faster because of the ass's reputation for stubbornness) in the final months of pregnancy.

Yours truly spent a few hours on a train and a plane in my ninth month, which gave new meaning to the word "misery." I can only imagine the fun expectant Mary enjoyed on the back of a brute beast (or trekking on pregnancy-swollen feet) for days on end.

Think midnight flight to another country with a toddler, on pain of death.

True, He was the Son of God, but still.

The Bible says a servant is no greater than his master. So why should I expect my Christmas to be all glittery and magical when His was full of disadvantage and death threats?

Kind of puts things in a different perspective.


"Most assuredly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him."  
-  John: 13:16


Sunday, December 23, 2018

Wrapped Up in the Wrapping

Yesterday was a fine day.

I taught Bible study in the morning. While it wasn't my finest hour (I'm finding that sermons, no matter how inspiring when one is sitting in the pew, don't always translate well into group lessons), it did reflect my refusal to curtail the important in favor of the urgent.

Next, I did a few pressing chores (after all, Christmas is only a few days away), then went home and took a nap next to the Christmas tree. This seemingly dispensable activity comes under the category of what my brother-in-law once told my toddler nephew while filling his tiny mouth with a pacifier: "Here, Brian, don't forget your personality."

Never mind that unwrapped gifts are clogging every nook and cranny of my bedroom; this small concession to sanity is worth its weight in the gold those wise men brought to the Baby in Bethlehem (who, incidentally, also knew when to shake the world off His shoulders for a few hours).

Mental stability: one. Gift wrapping: zip.

A visit from my son, Aaron, his wife, Elise, and their newly-walking son, Luca (who just happens to be the only Christmas present I'll ever need), rounded out the day. Had I yielded to the urge to make stuffing and wrap gifts while they were here, I might have missed the opportunity to have an important talk with my kids, cook a meal with my daughter-in-law (whom I affectionately call my "labor-less" daughter, because she's just that wonderful), and witness my grandson climbing steps for the first time ever.

Family memories: one. Gift wrapping: still zip.

After they left, I puttered in the kitchen, trying to get a jump on the food I've promised for family gatherings over the next few days. I also checked in with a sick sister, as well as a dear friend who recently lost her mom.

Putting others at the top of the list: one. Gift wrapping: well, you know.

OK, true confessions time. I lost sight of the important while waiting for dishes to cool enough to stash in the fridge. Eschewing the leg and hip exercises which help my middle-aged body stay "oiled," for lack of a better word, I sat down with the TV remote and indulged in holiday nonsense till midnight. We're not talking classics like Scrooge and It's a Wonderful Life, either; this was modern drivel which I finally turned off after realizing I neither knew nor cared whether the star-crossed lovers would get back together for Christmas, yet I had allowed them to suck up precious time that my health and family deserved first crack at.

Holiday to do list: one. Gift wrapping, health and well-being: forget it.

I'm not beating myself up. A little down time is OK on vacation, and I give myself credit for ditching the show that was costing me sleep and serenity. But I do need to get back on track if I'm going to avoid feeling lousy in the new year because I prioritized poorly over Christmas.

In short, my goal over the next week is to bask in the glorious trimmings that accompany this magical time of year, while still making time for the day to day grunt work that enables me to enjoy it in the first place.

Bottom line: I hope to remain focused on the swaddle-wrapped Babe, as opposed to the wrappings the trash men will collect on December 26th.


For more like this, check out:

Thea, Thea 

Grinch Pinch

Jesus Christ, the Same Yesterday, Today, and December 26th

Low Branches

Saturday, December 8, 2018

Unstoppable

Yesterday as I drove to work on my usual route, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

Literally.

I pulled the car over to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.

Sure enough, it was one of those Christmas inflatables - the kind my sister can't stand and is always threatening to take out with a BB gun.

If you knew my sister, you'd know she'd never take out a squirrel, let alone a harmless Christmas decoration. She just likes pretending to be tough.

But someone or something did destroy this humble lawn ornament, which lay crumpled in someone's trash.

Now, this wasn't just any inflatable. I had never seen one like it, and it held particular meaning for me each morning as I passed by because it stood out in the sea of commercialism and secularism that has overtaken the greatest miracle ever known to man - divinity stooping down to earth to save humanity from itself.

I speak, of course, of the birth of Christ. The inflatable that made me catch my breath each morning, reminding me of the true meaning of Christmas, depicted the Nativity scene.

It was pretty simple - just parents and Baby in their humble surroundings - but Amazon prices it at over $100.

As if one could put a price on the Incarnation.

Now, it's entirely likely that the thing was old and weather-beaten and couldn't withstand another Christmas out in the cold. It's also possible, in our increasingly hostile world which is increasingly hostile to all things sacred, that some piteous person took out his or her aggression on this symbol of redemption.

Either way, as the Grinch found out, it won't keep Christmas from coming.

Puncturing plastic won't halt the impact of what happened 2,000 years ago any more than the removal of tinsel and trees and toys could thwart what the Who's down in Whoville were singing about in Dr. Seuss's classic tale.

Christ came. He lives even after unenlightened hearts tried to stop His unstoppable one. He reigns, despite much evidence to the contrary, even as our fallen world slips ever further into madness and mayhem.

He asks only that we do our part to remind others of these facts, and that we remain faithful to His call on our lives.

After many months of allowing my pen to sit idle, herein lies my attempt to do just that.