The Curse of Jo March

The tags on this article cover everything. Anger. Resentment. Rejection. Grinch. Scrooge. Bitterness.

Bah humbug.

Fear not: I sound worse than I really feel, and I promise to end this post on a positive note.

When I first got the email this morning - two days before Christmas - that the manuscript I submitted eight months ago had been rejected - well, let's just say I felt like pulling my hair out.

Oh, and that's another thing. I've always had quite the mane, but lately, more than a few gray hairs are winding up in the brush and on the pillow.

Alopecia, anyone?

My prayer partner, too, is feeling bereft, for reasons of her own (not least of which is that corona fear has kept her under house arrest since March 13). That places her aggravation a good month and a half ahead of mine, since my book proposal didn't hit the agent's inbox till April 21. I guess if there's a prize for longest running exasperation, I'll have to defer to Tina.

Interestingly, I woke up wondering what message God would lay on my heart to share today or tomorrow. I always seem to receive an emphatic heavenly nudge right in the middle of my holiday hysteria, when it's least convenient to sit down and write. 

Somehow the Lord never seems to mind upending my schedule.

So, I find myself back to counting blessings. It's the soundest strategy I know for laying resentment where it belongs, in the dung heap with the rest of Satan's tactics.

And, oh, the blessings I still have to count, in a year when disease has stolen so many loved ones from family hearths and gouged gaping holes in legions of pocketbooks .

A daughter-in-law who sends a video of me cuddling my grandson and listening to his laughter, just when I'm missing my cherubs the most. Another soon-to-be daughter, who invites me to her family's Christmas table so I won't have to celebrate Christ's birth alone. Two loving, responsible sons who have been there for me more times than I can count. A host of trusted friends - some long standing, some arriving later in life - but all cherished and held dear. A school year that, while strange and challenging, includes an adorable student who even loves my singing and storytelling!

What was I upset about again?

After reading the agent's refusal, but before counting my blessings (which I was in no mood to do just then), I decided to cheer myself up by throwing a few ornaments on our heretofore barren Christmas tree. First on the list: my Little Women figurine of Jo March, aspiring author, but in her rightful place, just below Jesus.

There, lest we forget, is where all aspirations belong.

God bless us, everyone.

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I say rejoice!" 

~Philippians 4:4~

"In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."

 ~1 Thessalonians 5:18~

Check out this terrific tune from Matthew West: The Hope of Christmas

Woe is Me... or Who is Me?

COVID is really messing up a lot of plans for me. It threw a mega monkey wrench into my summer, preventing me from meeting my granddaughters for six weeks. It interfered with Thanksgiving (although my son and I had a very simple, low key holiday, just the two of us, which is a memory I will always cherish). Now the latest outbreak of the virus is threatening to undo all my Christmas plans.

Woe is me.

That's how I felt the other day when my kids and I had to face up to the realization that Christmas, like everything else since last March, is going to be very different this year.

But then I did a 180, and guess what? Woe is no longer me!

I had a little help from the Almighty (imagine that). While ruing my fate and licking my wounds the other day (as if I'm the only person in this world being kicked around by COVID), I found myself behind another believer at the dollar store. We had plenty of time to get to know each other, masks notwithstanding, since the line we were in snaked through two aisles and moved at about the same rate at which my nephew eats vegetables (he once looked aghast at his mother over a serving of broccoli, demanding to know why she expected him to eat that "tree"). 

All I know is that, after bemoaning the national plight with this smiling Christian sister, who started out a stranger but wound up a friend, I felt my own Christmas spirit ramping up quite a bit.

The following day again found me in a Christmas crowd. As I wended my way through the store (itself a miracle - with corona cases surging daily and restrictions being issued faster than the old woman who lived in a shoe could pass along hand-me-downs to her bulging tribe, isn't it a blessing we can still shop?), I kept hearing a cell phone ringing. It was always the same tone, a familiar one, but not my own. I found it odd that so many people had the same ring tone, and that no matter where I went in the store, everyone was getting calls using this same bell signal. 

Then the light dawned, the same way it did once when I was driving in traffic and kept being disturbed by an ailing muffler. It took awhile, but I finally realized the reason the obnoxious sound wouldn't go away was because my own car was the one making all the racket!

Sure enough, I searched around in my cart, and hiding under a stray bag lay someone else's cell phone! I picked it up and apologized to the owner, who had been calling for 20 minutes, and we both had a good laugh about my "smack me brow with heel of hand" moment. Long story short, I held on to the errant device till she returned to the store to reclaim it. Of course, I had to give her a Christmas tract and well wishes. 

Just another example of the Lord dumping opportunities to spread joy amidst the everyday reality of corona chaos.

Most of my 57 Christmases have been pretty joyful. Sure, some have been lackluster and a few even painful (it's tough to feel like celebrating when you're in the process of saying goodbye to loved ones or facing the breakup of a marriage), but what of it? Did God ever promise me every day would be an ice cream cake topped with pink frosting? Why should holidays be any exception?

The more I think about this, the more I like how the Whos in Dr. Seuss's classic tale handled the downsizing of their Christmas. You remember the story. The grumpy Grinch robbed them of all their
holiday trappings, but what he couldn't steal was their Christmas joy. They woke up singing, just as they had every other year, refusing to let the presence or absence of stuff dictate their peace of mind.

We could learn a lot from those colorful crooners. Rock on, Whos, and while you're at it, how 'bout replacing our Grinch-i-tude with your Who-titude, and making the latter as contagious as corona.

Thanksgiving Ruminations

The Thanksgiving theme continues in my house. Even though in my home the holiday consisted only of my son and me (due to possible COVID exposure in our family), we had a sweet time. The weekend was very low key and pleasant, providing ample time for catching up on life and some much appreciated R&R. I've been doing some reading (I always have four or five books going at a time, and a montage of articles; I'll never be "finished"), some resting, some cleaning, some chatting - just a lovely season of frolic without frenzy.

The Lord has seen fit to grant me another gift, one that will likely take a bit of time to fully "ripen," but that is well worth the wait.

Sunday's church and Bible study themes focused on Colossians 1:12-18 and Hebrews 12:12-17, both of which emphasize the truth of the first point in the Shorter Catechism of the Westminster Confession. The crafters of this timeless document rightly characterized "the chief end of man" as the glorification of God and enjoyment of Him forever. 

Simply put, if we are to give Christ preeminence in all things (Colossians 1:18), pursue peace with all, seek holiness, and spurn bitterness (Hebrews 12:14-15), these endeavors pretty much open the floodgates of gratitude while simultaneously closing the lid on grudges. In the process, we glorify God by keeping our focus on Him, as opposed to giving heed to anyone or anything that seeks to undermine us.

Ah, but there's the rub.

In recent months, I've struggled with anger towards certain individuals and entities which I felt wronged me. Promises were broken and hopes dashed. At one point I was so enraged that I sat down and composed a gripe list which I directed to the Lord, who is, of course, fully capable of righting all these injustices, if only He would choose to do so! I sought the help of fellow believers, asking them to pray for fairness, but also for a changed heart for me. 

The latter is much more important than the former, so the Lord gave me an up close and personal lesson about how to keep a tender heart the other night. I was speaking with a Christian sister, whose circumstances could warrant far deeper resentment than any I might entertain. This particular person has experienced much disappointment on many levels over the years. Let me repeat that. I have watched my friend go through wearisome trials for quite a few years! 

As we caught up with each other's lives, she shared with me the details of the latest challenge she is facing. I might add that she didn't bring the subject up, but merely responded to an inquiry I made about something we had been praying over for her. Not only were her hopes not met, but the manner in which things played out added insult to injury.

I couldn't help myself. In complete puzzlement and awe of the equanimity with which she accepted her situation, I exclaimed, "How do you keep from becoming bitter?"

Her response? 

"You have to try to look at things through the eyes of God."

She went on to affirm her complete faith and utter trust that our great God will always take care of her, because He always has. In short, she will not allow grievances in this broken world to trump thankfulness for the riches she has in Christ.

Let me tell you, this writer was humbled. Humbled by my own lack of forgiveness, but even moreso by the attitude of this saint, who refuses to let life's difficulties and people's cruelty cheat her out of the joy of the Lord. 

So, again, I continue to celebrate Thanksgiving in my corner of the world. My friend reminded me of that crucial exercise the other night. Thanksgiving, despite adversity, unfairness, or unmet expectations. Thanksgiving in joy or sorrow, celestial happiness or crushing despair. 

What a gift I received from my dear friend, which my church leaders then underscored the following morning. Hands down, it's the best Christmas present I'll get this year... or ever.

Beats anything I could ever find under a pine needled tree.