The Third Week of Advent

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GOD’S GIFT TO US

Isn’t it amazing how quickly things become hackneyed?  Whether it’s fashion — skirts long or short, toes round or pointed — celebrities who come and go in popularity, hobbies we take up that begin to bore us, or relationships we out grow. Things we couldn’t live without — the boat, the rifle, the car, the house, the job — soon lose their newness and appeal and we are ready for something different, more exciting and challenging. Eventually, most of our interests become so trite, so… so… last week.

When the children of Israel were starving, and I mean starving in the wilderness, God gave them manna, fresh every morning, a miracle just for them. They were so grateful for this new versatile food. But before long they grew tired of the same old thing day after day for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They cried that they longed for a change in diet. Manna, God’s special miracle for his children, had become so last week.

In his indescribable love, God gave us the gift of his Son. God loved the world so much — he loved me and you so much — that he gave his son.

This is almost too great to comprehend. How could I ever feel blasé about it? How could I ever tire of the story of his birth, told in narrative and song, celebrated with friends and family in places decorated with lights and symbols of the nativity?

The story of how Christ came to live among us never grows cliché. The gift God gave us is experienced fresh and new every year when this season arrives, every week as we worship together, every day, every moment we choose to bask in the great love God has for us.

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The Second Week of Advent

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REMEMBER THE REASON

Jesus is the reason for the seasonA few years ago someone came up with a catchy rhyme-phrase to remind us that “Jesus is the reason for the season.”  As often happens with catch-phrases, it became somewhat over-used, appearing on plaques, key chains, napkins and Christmas cards.

But the point is still well taken. There are times when any one of us might need to be reminded that Christmas is not about gifts and parties and decorating and shopping and cooking and eating and family dynamics. It’s all about Jesus coming into the world to be our Savior.

Matt Redman wrote When the Music Fades for his praise band to help them refocus on the true meaning of worship. It’s not really a song about Christmas but some of the words fit well here.

I’m coming back to the heart of worship
And it’s all about you. All about you, Jesus.
I’m sorry Lord for the thing I made it
When it’s all about you. It’s all about you, Jesus.  (Matt Redman, 1997)

We need to think about what we have allowed Christmas to become, we need to get back to the heart of Christmas. Because it’s all about Jesus.

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First Week of Advent

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Notes on AdventHow much time every day do we spend waiting?  At the grocery store, in traffic, at stoplights, in the school pick-up line, on hold with Customer Service. Often we wait months for big events to happen — holidays, a wedding, vacation time.

Sometimes we spend that waiting time in tense impatience, so that even when the delay is over our mood is still dark and irritable. Other times we wait with eager anticipation, counting the days. Looking forward to an event with a light heart makes the occurrence even more joyous.

The Advent season is a time of waiting for the celebration of Christ’s coming to the world. This period can be spent in preparation for Jesus to come again into our lives. As we put everything in readiness for a wonderful celebration of Jesus’ birth, we can run about in a hysterical frenzy or we can focus on Christ and let him make this waiting time meaningful.

Rather than being distracted by all the activities and projects this time of year brings, let’s put the emphasis on the Christ Child.

As your whole being waits for the Lord, put your hope in his word, meet Jesus at the manger. It will be worth the wait.

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. Psalm 130:5 NIV

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Noah’s Journal

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Since last I was here, much has happened — kids went trick or treating, we gained an hour in our day, and I went on a week-long writer’s retreat.

As I packed the projects I would work on during my week, I spotted Noah’s Journal and stuck it in the bag. The little black book was given to me on Mother’s Day in 2012 by Noah’s parents, Matt and Jessica. The front pages of the book lists prompts intended to help me tell about my life and times. Noah is my almost-two-year-old great-grandson.

On first receiving the journal, I began writing daily, inspired by the questions. But alas, as often happens, writing projects that don’t have a deadline are put on the shelf to be finished later. “Later” arrived with my retreat and since that time Noah’s Journal has become a priority again.

About 20 pages into the book it occurred to me that when he’s old enough to appreciate these stories, Noah may not be able to read my handwriting. It’s not that bad, but many schools no longer teach or use cursive writing … it’s all keyboarding.  So, now I print.

The prompt this week is about my varied employment career. I’m telling my great-grand about my first job, in 1950, at S.H. Kress (Variety Store) in Denison, Texas, where each counter had its own cash register and employees had to know math well enough to make change and count it back to the customer (who was always right). I was to keep my space clean and stocked and above all I must always look busy and not talk talk to my friends who might come in the store to shop.

For this I was paid 40 cents an hours, $3.20 for a day’s work (with 5c withheld for FICA). For a teenager, it sufficed.

I hope someday Noah enjoys reading this book as much as I am enjoying the writing.

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The Silent Generation

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Do you know how it feels to be a middle kid? Not enjoying the privileges of the oldest. Nor the spoiling of the youngest. Well, I just figured out that every one in my age group could logically have middle kid syndrome.

Here we are, squeezed between The Greatest Generation and the Baby Boomers. On one side, our brave parents who fought wars and the Great Depression, and on the other our younger siblings and our children, welcomed into the world with joy after WW2 ended and the economy was healthy.

And what is this middle generation called? The Silent Generation. Coined by Time Magazine in 1951 (but seldom used) this phrase describes people born from 1929 to 1946. A small demographic because families had fewer children during these hard times, struggling as they were to support the ones they had.

Why silent? Several reasons. During these decades, the adage “Children should be seen and not heard” was popular. Our formative years were war years, when “loose lips sink ships.” We reached adulthood during the Korean Conflict, followed by the Cold War with the spying and the intimidation of the House Committee on Un-American Activities run by Senator Joseph McCarthy. Their witch-hunt methods made people afraid to speak freely about their political opinions and beliefs.

But we came through it with many positive characteristics. Our Generation honored family values. We were perhaps the last generation of a majority of stay-at-home moms. We have the largest percentage of voters by demographic groups. We are the most financially sound — as a group — probably because we were raised with the old saying, “Waste not, want not.”  We’re patriotic. We volunteer. We tithe.

Some of our age group were not so silent as they left their mark on history: Martin Luther King, Jr., John Glenn, Maya Angelou, Gloria Steinem.

All our lives we have heard the cry for new schools, more housing, and (most recently) improvements in Social Security, Medicare and other retirement benefits — all for the Boomers that are coming along behind us. We have helped carry the load, quietly, responsibly, seldom mentioning that we too might like to be recognized for what we have given to society.

Like I said, Middle Kid Syndrome.

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