I didn’t grow up acknowledging the Easter bunny.  I never received an Easter basket with candy or gifts, and I truly didn’t know I was missing anything.  On Easter morning before church, we ate Hot Cross Buns for breakfast, the ones topped with crisscross lines of sugar to symbolize the cross of Jesus.  That was tradition!  (I still search grocery stores every April for that annual treat). And those paint stained hard boiled eggs that looked too gross to eat without their shells.  For afternoon tea, my mom would put out a few dishes of malted eggs or jelly beans for the family to share.  And that was the extent of it.

Easter was all about the church services we attended on Good Friday and Easter Sunday.  And it was truly meaningful, even in my youth.  Memories of the church passionately singing, “Christ the Lord is risen today, Allelujah!” and “Up from the grave He arose with a mighty triumph ‘ore His foes, He arose the victor…Now He lives forever, Hallelujah! Christ arose!” resonated deeply in my little heart.  Easter always left me amazed at the goodness of God in choosing for His Son to die so mankind could know life.  And that coming back to life again?!!  Wow!  That gave my young faith meaning!

Easter remains my favorite holiday of the year, for it reflects the reality of sharing resurrection life in our resurrected Savior.  It grows in significance as I grow in my love and passion for God.  But how can we keep Easter weekend services from just becoming a traditional practice in our busy multi-dimensional lives?  Is there value in really grappling with the significance of what we are commemorating?

Maundy Thursday: I never heard of Maundy Thursday until my husband and I moved to the States.  What in the world does the word ‘Maundy’ even mean?  It comes from the Latin word Mandatum which means ‘command.’  Scripturally, Maundy refers to Jesus’ command to his disciples (and us): “A new command I give to you: Love one another.  All men will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.” Luke 13: 34-35  

Maundy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper meal, a Passover Seder between Jesus and his disciples to celebrate God’s orchestrated exodus of His people from slavery in Egypt.  However, this Passover meal was directed by Jesus, the true, prophesied Passover Lamb, as he prepared to spill His blood so all mankind could be freed from the weight of their sins.  He even foreshadowed His death during the meal, saying, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer.  For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.”  Luke 22: 15-16   To further demonstrate His servant heart of love, of giving Himself fully for His disciples, Jesus chose to wash His disciple’s feet, an expression of humble leadership and an example to them of just how to love and serve others.  John 13: 1-17

After the meal, “Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives” (Luke 22:29) to pray.  The disciples, who just shared in an intimate meal with their Lord and all boasted they would never disown Him, followed close behind. (:29)  Jesus told Peter, James, and John that his soul was overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, and asked them to keep watch and pray while He went a short distance further to speak alone to His Father.  He needed the emotional and spiritual support of his closest friends near Him as He faced the unleashing of Satan’s attack against Him.  Jesus’ full humanity was exposed in that garden conversation.  He immediately fell to the ground in deep emotion and cried out in anguish to God, “Abba, Pappa!”  He pleaded as a son to His Father, “Take this cup from me.”  In His humanity, His will was different than the Father’s.  But He was quick to speak from His divinity and unity with God in saying, “Yet not what I will, but what you will.”  Mark 14: 32-36   Three times He “prayed the same thing,” (:39) three times He wrestled with His Father over the suffering He had to face, and three times He walked the journey alone.  Each time, he found His closest friends heavy with sleep and unable to post vigil with him in prayer.

Oh, the lessons we can learn from Jesus on how to pray authentically.   God welcomes us to come close and call Him ‘Pappa,’ to share our deep emotions, anxieties, burdens, and fears.  He doesn’t measure if we speak with the right words, but rather, that we have a humbly positioned heart.  It is good to pray with raw honesty, to know He welcomes us to just come and call upon Him.  He promises to give us strength and love to endure the hardships and crosses in our lives.  By persevering in prayer like Jesus, we learn to fully trust His presence and grace.  Even our laments are as worship to Him.

Maundy Thursday went beyond the Lord’s Supper and the garden.  An armed crowd sent by the Jewish religious leaders came to arrest Jesus, though He was innocent of wrong.  He was betrayed by one from his inner circle – with a kiss.  And his disciples, the ones who said they would never disown him?  They all deserted him and fled.  And so, the interrogation began – the accusations, mocking, and beatings, and He silently took it all with divine love and purpose.

Good Friday: The day that commemorates Jesus’ brutal sufferings and death on a cross can hardly be termed ‘good.’  The events of that day were indeed horrible!  His own race turned against Him out of jealousy over the influence and power of His teaching.  They brutally mocked and tortured Him to the point of no recognition, then demanded a hardened criminal be released in His place, so His death could be justified.  How can this be good?  And yet it was, and continues to be.

Jesus had to suffer because He is Savior of the world.  He had to earnestly wrestle in prayer with God in the garden (“Take this cup from me”), to fight feelings of abandonment (“Could you not keep watch for one hour?”), to struggle in his humanity (He fell to the ground and prayed :35; his sweat was like drops of blood Luke 22:44).  In so doing, He submitted fully to His Father’s will (“Not my will, but yours be done” :42).  Hebrews 2:10 states, “…It was fitting that God….should make the author or our salvation (Jesus) perfect through suffering.”  It was God’s divine plan that His sinless Son be perfected through the brutality of the cross, so we may know salvation from our sinfulness.  What a paradox!  What grace!  “Now he has appeared….to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself.” 9:26  “He learned obedience from what He suffered, and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him…” 5:8-9.  His suffering for our freedom!  His pain for our salvation!  His death for our life!

What an example He is to us in our suffering.  We can be assured He fully understands and helps us in our weakness and struggles, because He experienced such depth of suffering himself.  “For we do not have a high priest (Jesus) who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet was without sin.  Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in our time of need.” Hebrews 4:15   He willingly experienced brutal suffering and death for our good. It’s the beauty of His sacrifice that certainly makes Friday ‘Good.’

Easter:  Easter and Good Friday go hand in hand.  We desperately need the hope of Easter after the inhumane suffering and death of Friday.  When we understand the depth of Jesus’ suffering for us on Good Friday, we can rejoice all the deeper in His resurrection on Easter.  The One who proclaimed Himself to be the promised Messiah conquered sin and death, not only in dying for the sins of the world, but in rising back to life in “the power of an indestructible life.” Hebrews 7:16  “Because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood.  Therefore, he is able to save completely those who come to God through him….Such a high priest meets our need – one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens.” :24-26

Jesus Himself declared, “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” John 11:25-26  For Jesus will work the same resurrection power in each of our souls as we come to faith in him.  “In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ form the dead.”  I Peter 1:3   Furthermore, we have the promise of eternal resurrection from death into eternal life with Him.  We live in the reality of His resurrection every day!

Easter reflects the love, grace, goodness, and victory of God!  Jesus has risen from death!  We serve a risen Lord!  It’s definitely a day worth celebrating.  And so, our children and their dogs will come up to the acreage and together we’ll share in a wonderful traditional Easter meal together.  We’ll linger together with stories and laughter over food and drink, and even some chocolate eggs and jelly beans.  They’ve long outgrown our annual Easter egg hunts.  But we never outgrow our love for one another and our awe of our risen Savior.  And so, together we continue to celebrate resurrection life!

Sometimes life backhand smacks you in the face (literally) and completely knocks you windless.  Lying dumbfounded, you need to remind yourself just to breathe.  And you fight to muster up the necessary strength to face each day before you with courage, hope, and purpose.

Day after day after day, we stand astonished by the outrageously hard things of life.  So many are dealing with debilitating and chronic illnesses.  There is much too much loss to bear.  A friend’s son, barely old enough to drive, had a freak accident that left him in a coma for a few weeks until death took him.  We mourn with the family, but they face the empty vacuum of life without their precious son.   A young couple spends their days and nights in PICU as their child undergoes repeated brain surgeries. Continual accounts of injustice and abuse and attack leave us numb and helpless.  Just recently, my daughter witnessed a head-on collision and stopped to help.  The driver, a young man of twenty-six, died in her arms.   And wars and rumors of wars remain a constant in today’s world.

Though we know God to be sovereign over our lives and this sin soaked world, does it not leave us internally questioning, “What next?”  What’s the next internal implode we’ll be forced to face?  How will we handle the next attack of sin and brokenness in our lives or the lives of our loved ones?  And how can we adequately prepare for the faith to navigate it well?

I’m no stranger to the debilitating diagnosis of cancer.  I’ve heard it several times.  The beginnings of endometrial cancer after decades of infertility.  How ironic and seemingly unjust that was to wrap my brain around.  Pre-cancerous colon polyps, the only family member to inherit this genetic link from my grandfather.  And now, after getting braces to improve my joint and overbite issues (and appearance), I receive a diagnosis of basal skin cancer right above my mouth.  The recommended Moh’s surgery thankfully removed the cancer, but left me with a large, deep crater in my face.  Reconstructive surgery required the removal of a significant amount of additional facial tissue and skin (5.4 X 3.1 cm in total).  I am now left with two massive scars on my face – one through my lip and one to my jaw.  Introducing Frankenstein!

In each of my brushes with cancer, the disease could be removed, something I am extremely grateful for.  Each time I have wrestled with God how this could possibly be His good plan for me.  Time does press on, and life gains new vulnerability and normalcy.  Faith strengthens as I realize the nearness and faithfulness of God through it all.  The fear and reality of cancer ultimately begins to fade.  But not so this time.  Every time I look in the mirror, I will see Scar Face looking back.  I will wear the marks of cancer invading my body yet again and marring my appearance.  I have no assurance the feelings of vulnerability or the brevity of life will pass.

Perhaps this is a good thing.  I will be continually reminded of the good hand of God in sparing me this disease several times over.  I will remember that I am ultimately not in control of this shell of a body.  Though I am vigilant with a natural diet (paleo, no caffeine, very little sugar or alcohol), regular exercise, and taking grade A supplements (even natural sun screen), the reality is that nothing is guaranteed.  We never know what effects of sin loom around the next corner.

But we are not meant to live in dread.  Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 5: 4-5 that our bodies are an earthly tent that will eventually be destroyed, yet, we have the promise of a heavenly house in heaven, built for us by God.  Our bodies and this earthly home are but a temporary existence.  And our heavenly home promises to be sooooo much better.  Its absolute best feature is that we will live in the actual physical presence of Almighty Triune God.  His presence will be our ultimate place of complete contentment, passionate fulfillment, and unspeakable joy! – the very satisfaction we’ve continually sought for on earth but could never fully know.

“Now the dwelling of God is with men, and He will live with them….God Himself with be with them and be their God” (Revelations 21:3).  Wow!  He Himself will wipe away every tear from our eyes (:4) – all the pain and loss and anxiety and shame and grief and, and, and…  He will wipe away all the hard and hurting things. And it will mark the end of all the effects of sin on us.  “There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old (earthly) order of things has passed away” (Revelations 21:4). What a glorious, eternal hope and promise!

But what about now?  How do we press on amid the ‘death, mourning, crying and pain?’ Whatever circumstance of suffering, disease, pain or loss we find ourselves in, we must remember we are not alone.  Yes, “While we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened” (2 Corinthians 5: 4).  Our struggles are hard and real.  We long for earthly wholeness and for heavenly oneness with God.  But Paul assures us that God “….has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come” (:5).  What a glorious promise for the here and now!  Yes, we set our sights on the perfect wholeness of heaven.  But, we have already been given a deposit of the coming eternal glories, in the Holy Spirit who lives within us.  Almighty God lives within us now!  He guides, teaches, comforts, and helps.  What a blessing to acknowledge Him with us, desiring to attend to our every need and care.  In Him, we can find strength to face every day, now and forward into eternity.

During the surgery process, I was treated with local anesthesia (my face injected with around thirty shots of numbing fluid).  The most gruesome part of surgery was hearing the doctor cut away my flesh with a scissor.  Horrors!  I comforted myself with praying a favorite portion of Scripture: “God, you are my refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble; therefore, I will not fear.  Help me be still and know that You are God” (Psalm 46).  He quieted my racing heart.  Before bandaging my incisions, they called my husband into the room.  I asked to see the wound.  Frank suggested that perhaps I should wait.  I knew it was bad, but I had to see.  Somehow, I was prepared for it.  It is not easy to face hard things, but we do not face them alone.  God Himself is our ever present help.  His strength under girds us and carries us in every and all circumstances.

I have faced different seasons of loss and tragedy in my life, much greater than skin cancer.  I expect, dear reader, that you have too.  Somehow, when a new hardship occurs, it seems to resurrect the pain and loss of former struggles.  It creates another internal imploding, but all the more weighty and deep when coupled with previous pains.
The trials of life are like a moving train with every boxcar representing a significant struggle.  Over time, you learn to navigate life while pulling your personal load of pain and brokenness.  When a new crisis comes, no matter the size, the additional weight causes the train to careen out of control, boxcars slamming together, resulting in an inevitable derailment.  This is the place of greatest pain, vulnerability, loneliness, and seeming hopelessness.

But this is where God meets us.  He is present with us in the tragedy, the loss, the chronic illness, the suffering, and every single day of grappling with how to navigate it all.  That’s the beauty of His Holy Spirit within us, contending for us, giving us strength and faith for the hard journey.  “For we live by faith, not by sight…therefore, we are always confident”                 (2 Corinthians 5: 7, 6). Confident in ourselves?  Goodness, no!  Confident because we have our resurrected Savior living in us, doing a work of spiritual resurrection in us to renew and grow us through all that happens in life.  His Spirit equips us to live on!

Truth be told, I’m still grappling with yesterday’s facial surgery.  I am still wearing the huge bandage over my swollen face and dread having to reveal and redress the wound.  But I have my hopes set high.  It will be a hard adjustment for me, and probably for anyone who looks upon my scarred face.  But this doesn’t define me.  I am a daughter of Almighty God, a sister to Jesus, my Savior.  I remain His image bearer, scars and all.  This will not keep me from living boldly for His glory and fighting for joy along the way, every moment of this broken and fear filled and fragmented life.  Better days await us.  Through His Spirit’s indwelling and guidance, we can live fully to that glorious end!

Christmas is a busier than busy season for me because I…ahem…am a Victorian caroler.  Yes, it’s true!  Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I, along with nine other carolers, sing our hearts out around the community, doing our best to spread Christmas hope and cheer.

In addition to creating beautiful harmonies, we dress in authentic Victorian clothing.  This means top hats, ascots, and coats with tails for the gentlemen.  And we ladies wear full length dresses with petticoats, capes and gloves, and bonnets. Dressing in early 19^th Century costume is indeed part of the delight and presentation of caroling.

When I joined the group last year, I spent much time searching patterns and fabrics for my Victorian gown.  I finally settled on a deep purple iridescent taffeta, and a black velvet cape and bonnet!  After much diligence and many adjustments, the dress was finally complete before the start of the singing season.  I was ready to embrace this Victorian role!

Triangle Downtowner Magazine DaveGill.Photography

Early this season, after an evening of singing, I was taken aback by the sound of ripping fabric.  I had just settled into my car with crinolined skirts poufed up to the console, when my bonnet box slipped off the car seat. I impulsively twisted to catch it, causing a tear in the right undersleeve.  Nooooo!  I drove home with as little movement as possible and inspected the damage.  The tear was partly on the seam line, but also into the sleeve fabric.  I made phone calls the next morning and brought my dress to a “fashion tailor.”  She wonderfully lived up to her name. She cut out the damaged section and repaired it with a fabric scrap I’d brought.  What a relief!  The gown was not ruined!

A week later, as I reached to pull my cape over my shoulders, I again heard the sound of ripping fabric!  Once more, I returned to the tailor and she repaired the seam.  She assured me it was a temporary fix; what I really needed was to replace the entire sleeve.  A major reconstruction of a rather complex sleeve on an even more complex bodice.  But it has to be done!  Without it the gown is worthless!

Only at Christmastime can a ripped gown remind me of Jesus.  For at Christmas, the Son of God intentionally came to earth to breathe restoration into the broken, the ripped apart, the hurting.  He left the majesty and glory of heaven to step into the fragmented depravity of earth, offering the Way of permanent change and renewal.

The onset of his humanity was marked with rumors of brokenness and pain.  By human standards Jesus was born into a marriage forced by pregnancy. Joseph and Mary fully knew He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, but they no doubt experienced lots of knowing looks and judgmental comments. It was late in her pregnancy when they were required to make the arduous and obligatory travel to Bethlehem to register for the Roman census, a walking distance of over 90 miles.  They also endured the humiliation of being counted in the Roman census as Jewish people persecuted under Roman rule.

When Mary went into labor, there were no sanitary rooms at inns available to them.  Instead, they were offered an unhygienic stable where guests of the inn kept their travel animals.  Mary gave birth in the straw of an animal pen, and bedded down her newborn son in a dirty feeding trough.  Our Messiah began His earthly existence in a cold stable amid animal sounds and smells. An extremely humble entrance for the King of Kings!

Herod, the Roman appointed king of Judea, felt threatened when he heard from traveling Magi of the prophesied birth of a new king.  To protect his position and rid himself of a potential threat to the throne, he declared an edict that all young Jewish boys in Bethlehem be killed.  God directed Joseph and Mary to flee with Jesus to Egypt for two years until the danger passed.  But what deep sorrow occurred because of this massacre (see Matthew 2:18).  And what devastation and pain Joseph and Mary must have felt for the anguish and grief many experienced in the senseless deaths of their young sons due to Herod’s fear of their own son.

The details surrounding Jesus’ birth were far from serene.  Yet, His coming was completely intentional and perfectly timed by Almighty God.  Jesus broke into the brokenness of earth with the awaited hope and promise of a Savior. He descended heaven to shine light and love into the pain of Roman persecution, the emptiness of loss, the shame of humiliation, and the wounding of sin.  The world was desperately awaiting His rescue of broken, hurting, and lost souls.

Christmas today rings the same theme.  We welcome the celebration of Jesus’s birthday, for it powerfully pronounces God’s radical love for us in intentionally gifting us a way of salvation.  And yet, the beauty of Christmas falls against the reality of great brokenness and depravity in our world.  We cannot close our hearts to its reality.

The 21^st century also marks the mass genocide of babies, but unlike the first century, it justifies the slaughter of the unborn.  Senseless terrorist attacks occur with disturbing regularity, causing fear and anguish the world over.  The reality of racial targeting and discrimination persists, creating further division and intolerance within America and the world. Dictatorial rulers persecute their own people to selfishly gain personal power.  The travesties in Aleppo, Syria alone are heartbreaking.  The refugee crisis continues to worsen.  The sex slave industry is on the rise.

The brokenness of our world cries with desperation for a Messiah. 

In His great love, Jesus chose to come as Immanuel, God with us, and offer us the Way of hope and healing right in the middle of our brokenness. He is in the business of stepping into our raw hurt, fear and pain; of rescuing, giving new life, and offering healing to our hearts and souls. This is the very expression of His love for us, that He would enter all that’s dirty and broken and do a permanent work of heart restoration within us.  This is where we can best know Him and the reality of His love for us.

Isaiah prophesied the restoration Jesus would bring.  “There will be no more gloom for those who were in distress…the people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.  For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.  And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. “ (Isaiah 9:1-2, 6)

This is a true riches to rags to riches story!

Yes, at Christmastime we celebrate the coming of our promised Savior King!  Yet, we must look to the greater picture – of centering our eyes on the eternal, on His promised return, where all things temporary will pass away, and the eternal become reality.

For the work of our Messiah is a radical rescue of hearts and souls.  It promises to never wear out, to weaken, to become threadbare.  As we look to see Him in the brokenness of this world, as we go through trials and loss, as our bodies age and falter, as we succumb to weakness, our God-with-us Savior promises us His presence, power, and help.  He assures us He will never leave us or forsake us.  He promises He will come back for us to take us home to live with Him forever.

Mission accomplished!  The house is now seasoned with Christmas.  And it feels appropriately magical.

Every year it looms….the scheduled day to hunt down the perfect tree, dragging of ornament boxes from the attic and wrestling with dysfunctional light strands.  This year we lost the battle with the lights.  Too many half lit strands and missing bulbs from two decade old light led to the quick decision to rezone them to the recycling bin and make a hasty trip to town for new ones.

But after the tree is lit comes the best part, my favorite part, the re-discovering and hanging of ornaments.  I usually lose the kids after a few minutes; their true interest being the traditional cheese & sausage, crackers, and eggnog that accompany the task.  I don’t rightly mind.  For me, unwrapping the ornaments is a nostalgic traipse through the unfolding story of family.  It is ripe with warm memories.

When my husband and I were first married, we started the tradition of cutting down our own Christmas tree.  This was an easy task in rural Ontario, Canada (a tradition that has proven much more challenging in North Carolina).  Our first Christmas stands out vividly in our memories, of driving through heavy snowfall along dark country roads, of slippery fish tailing, dodging snowdrifts, and a near wipe out.  Once at the farm, we leisurely wandered the back lot through deep snow, inspecting trees in the crisp night air by the glow of a full moon and the tingling of falling snow.  It was a moonlit winter wonderland, magical and romantic and exhilarating.  We contently wandered about till we found the perfect tree for our tiny apartment in
back of a Victorian farmhouse.

We started an ornament collecting tradition on our honeymoon without even realizing it.  We were two poor university graduates, honeymooning in Stowe, Vermont and Old Quebec City.  While in Vermont, we visited a
year round Christmas store.  We found the cheapest cute ornament we could, a wooden, snow covered mailbox, as a souvenir of our time there.  It cost a meager $1.79, but the memories remain priceless.  So began the tradition of adding one new ornament to our tree every Christmas.  Over the years, it has produced a treasured collection.  

Sometimes the ornaments were purchases, other times gifts.  Four very blessed years included “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments.  Some items have names to represent the ornament giver: JD from Graduate InterVarsity, Gong Zhi from China, Angie from the girl’s home I worked at, Jed and Ennifer – neighbors Ed and Jennifer whose names my son kept reversing.  There are some cherished angel ornaments from foster families and the dear children I worked with, a delft blue candle from my cousin in Holland, and some very precious ornaments crafted by our children in their youthful years. I have also inherited some inverted Christmas balls from my youth, rich with visions of childhood.  Every ornament represents cherished memories and relationships, signifying a lifetime of blessings.  

December nights, I love to sit in the dark living  room, sipping tea in the glow of the Christmas tree.  These nights are filled with nostalgia of Christmas’s past, of friendships from previous places and life stages.  It is magical to gaze upon the tree at the ornamental reminders of life’s rich blessings.

Sometimes, at nights end, it’s hard to unplug the lights and turn the richness to darkness.  It’s a bit of a statement of how fleeting life is; a life marked by memorable people and places.  There it hangs in display, all twenty-nine Christmas’s of a great marriage filled with the richness of family and friendships.

It celebrates this present Christmas as well.  As I look at the tree, I anticipate my family gathering together on Christmas Eve, my daughter, son and daughter-in-law and their respective dogs spending the night, so we can continue to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions together.  We will gather around the tree and linger long.  We will reflect on the goodness of our Heavenly Father in gifting us with a Savior.  We will fill stockings and exchange gifts of love with each other.  We will create new memories and share in the rich blessings of family and faith.

And we will add a new ornament to mark the growing memories and ongoing blessings.

Yes, the Christmas season is filled with the nostalgia of treasured traditions and memories, of magical moments, of celebrations and gatherings with loved ones.  All reflect the rich blessings of God in this wonderful season – the season that marks the gifting of His greatest blessing to mankind – His beloved Son.  Sending Jesus to earth to become fully man while being fully God, for the express purpose of sacrificially dying for our sins so we can receive unending life, is the most outrageously powerful expression of love imaginable.

This is the overriding beauty of Christmas! God’s great love expressed in the birth of Jesus is the anchor to all the beauty and nostalgia and celebrations of the season.

“But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.  He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.” (Titus3: 4-7)

Genuine laughter cannot be forced.  It bubbles spontaneous from the heart in response to delight or pleasure.

Laughter has many expressions, from a breathy chuckle to a full out guffaw, with many variations in between.  When forced and awkward it is really laughter in disguise. 

But the purest of all laughter echoes a deep rooted joy in the Lord. 

Though genuine laughter happens spontaneously, it doesn’t always come easy.  Let’s face it, Jesus’ words, “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33), resonates true for all of us.  We observe brokenness in the world, and we know all too well the brokenness of our own souls, relationships, and lives. 

When our hearts weigh heavy with pain and suffering, laughter seems foreign, impossible.  Then it’s a tremendous exertion of energy to just lift our voices.  Laughter stands in stark contrast to the weight of our hearts. 

Enter the Proverbs 31 woman.  She is a remarkable specimen of a Godly soul who looks like she has everything together.  And she does!  For she is an authentic woman of faith and wisdom! 

She is noble in character and consistently presents herself as trustworthy and good.  She is a faithful caretaker of family, home, and businesses.  This woman is strong and industrious, and works with eagerness, vigor, and diligence from early morning to late at night.  She is quick to encourage and care for the poor and needy.  No fault can be found in her. 

Her impeccable character and accomplishments can feel rather deflating. What woman can possibly keep up with her? 

Early in our relationship, my husband and I enjoyed attending summer conferences hosted by the Institute of Christian Studies, a graduate school of philosophical thought in Toronto.  Both of us were raised in Dutch immigrant communities, from which many attended the conference.  During one workshop, the speaker made mention of the Proverbs 31 woman.  From the crowd a woman blurted, “Dat nare mens,” followed by ripples of laughter.  Her words literally meant, “That nasty person,” and reflected irritation at someone who is overly praised and impossible to compare with. 

Does this not reflect how we can feel in comparison to the Proverbs 31 woman?

Yet, it is the woman’s spiritual qualities that make her shine the brightest.  She is a woman who fears the Lord with unshakable confidence and faith.  Her life is not marked by anxiety and fear, but by strength and dignity.  Her identity is deeply rooted in the God she loves and serves.  And so, she can speak with wisdom and give faithful instruction to others, because her life rests solidly on the truth and goodness of her Lord. 

And she can laugh; genuinely laugh!  Not because her life is all settled and put together well, though it certainly appears to be.  Rather, she “can laugh at the days to come” (:25) because she has the confident assurance that she is not walking her days alone. 

She knows whom she believes in and is convinced of (II Timothy 1:12).  Therefore, she is able to firmly take her stand “strong in the Lord and in his mighty power,” adorned in the full armor of God (Ephesians 6: 10-18) for each new day.

It’s not easy to laugh when troubles press in.  I know!  I’ve been through repeated seasons of pain and loss, where laughter felt foreign and distant. 

We cannot expect to laugh lightheartedly during struggles and grief.  Yet, our joy does not depend upon our circumstances. 

Joy is rooted in our identity in Father God, in who we are as chosen sons and daughters of the Most High King.   We are His, and nothing or no one can snatch us from His grip.  That truth alone is worth a ripple of holy laughter.

The Proverbs 31 woman laughs forward.  She looks at the future, regardless of the brokenness she faces, and knows her Lord is there.  In the midst of the struggles of life, she fights for joy. 

She sings with David, “Surely I have a delightful inheritance….I have set the LORD always before me.  Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken….You will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” (Psalm 16: 6, 8, 11)

This is the woman we can strive to be; the one who lives with joy deeply rooted in the presence and power and love of her Lord, the one who is filled by Him “with an inexpressible and glorious joy.” (I Peter 1:8)

 This is how we can choose to live, how we can trust, and how we can laugh forward every day right into eternity.

Fall is not my favorite season, though it’s recently grown on me.  Instead, I relish the first signs of spring, of tracking the morph of new buds and leaf pods into maturation.  Every year they’ve escaped my vigilant observation, then suddenly display their glory of life unfurled. But fall is the opposite.  It hints of hibernation and the process of life shutting down.

My father died in fall.  The news of his fatal illness happened on the very day my husband and I were informed of our infertility.  Life paralyzed with this double blow.  The soul racking sobs were relentless. I struggled just to breathe.  Death permeated my past and future. 

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It was a full-fledged ‘tyranny of the urgent’ kind of morning at the ripe hour of 7am as husband and son rush out the door for work and school.  Once again, the car keys have gone missing.  Car key, actually, since the set of keys has been mysteriously MIA for the past six weeks.  This morning the spare key could not be found.  These things just seem to happen in our home…..not regularly, but enough to make you question just how the synapses of our brains keep misfiring into forgetfulness.  Thankfully, this was not my doing – this time.  A few months back my keys pulled a random vanishing act on me.  It was a complete mystery….until I found them in the pocket of a pair of capris weeks later.  A tad embarrassing!

The three of us kicked into high gear searching all the obvious places that the key could have been placed.  We retraced Frank’s steps of activities after arriving home from church yesterday.  We checked pants pockets and table tops.  Nothing!  So, the obvious decision was for them to leave with my van for the day.  They rushed out the door, my husband forgetting both coffee and lunch.  Yah, it was that kind of morning! Continue reading →

Oh, my heart is heavy today.  We had a rough night last night, my daughter and I.  She came to visit us to drop off her “furballs” for the weekend while she travels to the mountains for a business retreat.  One furball is her love pup, a twelve pound Morkie, the other a black lab she rescued from a gas station in a state of near starvation.  Together they make an E triangle: Erica, Emma, and Esme.

Erica’s dogs love to roam and play on our acreage when they visit; a more spacious environment than their apartment dwelling. We also have two dogs, and the four of them typically roam and play well together.

No sooner had my daughter entered the house when we heard dog chaos outdoors.  We ran outside into the growing dusk to find that the rescue dog we had taken in a few months earlier was attacking Erica’s Morkie.  It was a chaotic scene!  Her black lab cowering behind the porch railing in fear; our brown lab playing protector of the Morkie and trying to wrestle the rescue dog; the attacker clamping her jaws down hard on little Emma and refusing to let go.  It was hard to even see Emma in the chaotic scene, but her piercing screams cut to the heart.  It was a horrid human / canine battle.  In the end, sweet Emma lay on the porch in a puddle of blood as the attack dog was dragged off to secure lockdown. Continue reading →