One of my favorite songs this year was from an American Idol. Should I admit that? It was Home by Phillip Phillips. I mostly like the melody of it. There is a lyric in it that I have been thinking about: "If you get lost you'll always be found...just know you're not alone, because I'm going to make this place your home."
We do try so hard to make this place our home, especially at the Christmas season. We want to have the warm feelings of family; we want the fun that comes from being together and making cookies; we want to enjoy holiday movies together; we want the shared memories from carrying on traditions like singing carols or having a feast together. These are wonderful ways of enjoying a holiday, and dare I say, a small vision into seeing what it might be like when we get to heaven (take out the internal family strife from that, of course). In "Star Trek: Generations", Captain Picard has an opportunity to go to the "Nexus," which is a place where your best dream comes to life. His dream is being surrounded by his family at Christmas where they have this same sort of holiday experience. This is what we want...the idealism, the beauty, the love, and we are drawn towards these feelings of "home."
My pastor has been using the phrase "the scandal of the incarnation" this season. He referenced how God Himself came to earth and allowed his diapers to be changed. That is shocking. This is the God that created man, that created the land and the seas, that created the creatures in both, and fashioned woman out of Adam's rib. The One who turned Lot's wife into a pillar of salt. The One who unleashed Satan on Job. The One who parted the Red Sea for the Israelites. The One who watched over the nation of Israel and brought in people from outside to be part of the family, like Rahab. This is the same One who deigned to be born as a baby. He knew that the baby, His son, was the King and would be the redeemer. He knew the only way out for us was to pay a price none of us could even conceive of. This baby left His home, came to Earth - a place filled with stark sin, fear, and misery - and showed us what love truly was.
On this night, when I am separated from some of those I love, the scandal of the incarnation is made a little more real for me. I am here with my parents, who I love, but it's not everyone else. And I think about how Jesus was separated for thirty plus years from His father, and then how the separateness was made so complete on the cross.
We should be scandalized this Christmas, and remember that this place is not our true home.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Road Trips and Michael Landon
When I was young, I watched Little House on the Prairie. I didn't just watch it, I memorized the series. I would be very, very surprised if there is an episode I haven't seen. Every day, I'd come home, get a snack, turn on the TV, open up my notebook, and then...I'd write down the name of the Little House epsiode that was showing that day. For what reason, I do not know. I just did this. Yes, it's true. I recently made fun of my daughters for keeping a daily weather journal (K) and a daily fashion journal (M). If only they'd known what my daily journal was about.
Little House on the Prairie, starring Michael Landon and Melissa Gilbert, was my first introduction to seeing facets of a Christian God. Yes, I'm firmly convinced of this. I watched episodes of tragedy where Pa prays, where Laura prays, where they are in church, where they carry a Bible, where they showed what they believe in. As a little girl who grew up watching her mother pray to pictures of blue gods and coconuts in the kitchen pantry, this seemed...well, what I wanted, instead. I also know this is where I heard my first Christian hymns. "Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves..." or "Onward Christian soldiers, marching on to war..."; these were the two main hymns I heard.
Fast foward ahead to year 20 of my life. I was a sophomore, living in Cedar Crest apartments during a hot summer in Tuscaloosa. I was living with my roommate Laura Bearden. She was a low-key friend and she made it a practice to listen to Amy Grant. One song in particular stood out for me. It was called "Lead Me On." It was the first contemporary Christian song I'd ever felt drawn to, and I really liked it. I still have it on my iPod to this day.
Fast forward to year 30 after my divorce. I spent the whole year listening to Christian music. I couldn't listen to secular music. The majority of it was based on "love" anyway, and I just couldn't take it. I listened to a lot of Christian music back then, in 2002, from FFH to Avalon to Ginny Owens to my favorite, Steven Curtis Chapman. I loved the honesty I heard in his music and also his worshipful lyrics. It taught me some basic scripture, too. I truly believe that listening to this music, by His grace, allowed me to recover and started the healing process for me. I moved on to listen to Michael W Smith, too, and enjoyed his worship music.
After that year, I went back to listening to secular music, but I gained an appreciation for the beauty of hearing scripture reflected back at you through music. I also heard the beauty in the words from hymns in church. I looked at the names in the hymn book and learned of the great suffering in some of the writers' lives. William Cowper, John Newton, Charles Wesley...I love reading the words in some of their hymns and seeing their struggles, their worship of God despite their pain. The Christian life is recognizing God's majesty, but also dealing with the day-to-day struggles. From "Jesus, Lover of my Soul" by Charles Wesley:
Jesus, lover of my soul,
let me to thy bosom fly,
while the nearer waters roll,
while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
till the storm of life is past;
safe into the haven guide;
O receive my soul at last.
How apt! How timely! How easy it is to think these same thoughts seem like David's, straight out of the Psalms.
I spent yesterday driving to Montgomery and back. My secret, although not a guilty one, is that when driving alone, I listen to scripture and Christian music. Not for every single trip, but many of them. Yesterday, for whatever reason, I was overcome with the awesome power of God and His watchfulness over my life. I found myself weeping part of the way, but grateful nonetheless. I thought back to Little House, then, and remembered listening to songs that I memorized but didn't understand. How funny that I think back to these small things and realize the part they played in my life. Perserverance in this life comes from knowing He is there, keeping you, watching for you, hiding you, drawing you close. Let me to thy bosom fly!
Little House on the Prairie, starring Michael Landon and Melissa Gilbert, was my first introduction to seeing facets of a Christian God. Yes, I'm firmly convinced of this. I watched episodes of tragedy where Pa prays, where Laura prays, where they are in church, where they carry a Bible, where they showed what they believe in. As a little girl who grew up watching her mother pray to pictures of blue gods and coconuts in the kitchen pantry, this seemed...well, what I wanted, instead. I also know this is where I heard my first Christian hymns. "Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves..." or "Onward Christian soldiers, marching on to war..."; these were the two main hymns I heard.
Fast foward ahead to year 20 of my life. I was a sophomore, living in Cedar Crest apartments during a hot summer in Tuscaloosa. I was living with my roommate Laura Bearden. She was a low-key friend and she made it a practice to listen to Amy Grant. One song in particular stood out for me. It was called "Lead Me On." It was the first contemporary Christian song I'd ever felt drawn to, and I really liked it. I still have it on my iPod to this day.
Fast forward to year 30 after my divorce. I spent the whole year listening to Christian music. I couldn't listen to secular music. The majority of it was based on "love" anyway, and I just couldn't take it. I listened to a lot of Christian music back then, in 2002, from FFH to Avalon to Ginny Owens to my favorite, Steven Curtis Chapman. I loved the honesty I heard in his music and also his worshipful lyrics. It taught me some basic scripture, too. I truly believe that listening to this music, by His grace, allowed me to recover and started the healing process for me. I moved on to listen to Michael W Smith, too, and enjoyed his worship music.
After that year, I went back to listening to secular music, but I gained an appreciation for the beauty of hearing scripture reflected back at you through music. I also heard the beauty in the words from hymns in church. I looked at the names in the hymn book and learned of the great suffering in some of the writers' lives. William Cowper, John Newton, Charles Wesley...I love reading the words in some of their hymns and seeing their struggles, their worship of God despite their pain. The Christian life is recognizing God's majesty, but also dealing with the day-to-day struggles. From "Jesus, Lover of my Soul" by Charles Wesley:
Jesus, lover of my soul,
let me to thy bosom fly,
while the nearer waters roll,
while the tempest still is high.
Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
till the storm of life is past;
safe into the haven guide;
O receive my soul at last.
How apt! How timely! How easy it is to think these same thoughts seem like David's, straight out of the Psalms.
I spent yesterday driving to Montgomery and back. My secret, although not a guilty one, is that when driving alone, I listen to scripture and Christian music. Not for every single trip, but many of them. Yesterday, for whatever reason, I was overcome with the awesome power of God and His watchfulness over my life. I found myself weeping part of the way, but grateful nonetheless. I thought back to Little House, then, and remembered listening to songs that I memorized but didn't understand. How funny that I think back to these small things and realize the part they played in my life. Perserverance in this life comes from knowing He is there, keeping you, watching for you, hiding you, drawing you close. Let me to thy bosom fly!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Time marches on
My youngest daughter turned 16 a week ago. How has 16 years passed since she was born?
Last week, we were not at home, we were staying at my friend Beth's due to the fact that I was getting my floors refinished. I got up early (for me) at 5:30, got ready, made cinnamon rolls, and hung a "Happy Birthday" streamer so she would see it. I headed back to the room with my video camera, which is a yearly tradition, and sang Happy Birthday to her. Thankfully she'd already awoken and was mostly ready; I say thankfully because it hasn't always been pleasant for the girls when I wake them up with a video camera!
I took her to school, probably the first time in a while, and dropped her off. After working a half-day, I went and traded cars and picked her back up. We headed to Taco Casa on Skyland, of course, and "ate light." This, for K, meant eating a snack burrito instead of her normal burrito, in addition to two tacos. Then, we headed to the State Troopers' office.
When we arrived, the first problem arose. The VIN number on the car's registration did not match the VIN listed on the proof of insurance. Hello!? What?! She could not test. I called my insurance agent, and it turned out the registration had a VIN number for a Chevy Monte Carlo. What?! We ran over to the license office, coincidentally next to the local "Dirt Cheap" store. Thankfully, they had scanned in my bill of sale two weeks prior and had proof of the correct VIN! Woot! So we were able to get it corrected and headed back to get the license, which was a successful endeavor.
Our sweet friends Kristina and her son pulled up to my house just as we stopped by to get the mail. They dropped off a balloon and a hug! That must have been a God thing; we were only at the house for five minutes! K drove off immediately and headed towards the high school to show off the car. Meanwhile, I stressed out at the house when I realized Mellow Mushroom had booked the party room for the exact time I needed it.
We went to dinner that night at Jim and Nick's. Just me, K, M...and their dad. Had fun laughing and catching up. What a sweet thing it is, to know God has worked so mightily in our lives. K told me that evening, "it was a great day." Wonderful words to a mom's ears.
Last week, we were not at home, we were staying at my friend Beth's due to the fact that I was getting my floors refinished. I got up early (for me) at 5:30, got ready, made cinnamon rolls, and hung a "Happy Birthday" streamer so she would see it. I headed back to the room with my video camera, which is a yearly tradition, and sang Happy Birthday to her. Thankfully she'd already awoken and was mostly ready; I say thankfully because it hasn't always been pleasant for the girls when I wake them up with a video camera!
I took her to school, probably the first time in a while, and dropped her off. After working a half-day, I went and traded cars and picked her back up. We headed to Taco Casa on Skyland, of course, and "ate light." This, for K, meant eating a snack burrito instead of her normal burrito, in addition to two tacos. Then, we headed to the State Troopers' office.
When we arrived, the first problem arose. The VIN number on the car's registration did not match the VIN listed on the proof of insurance. Hello!? What?! She could not test. I called my insurance agent, and it turned out the registration had a VIN number for a Chevy Monte Carlo. What?! We ran over to the license office, coincidentally next to the local "Dirt Cheap" store. Thankfully, they had scanned in my bill of sale two weeks prior and had proof of the correct VIN! Woot! So we were able to get it corrected and headed back to get the license, which was a successful endeavor.
Our sweet friends Kristina and her son pulled up to my house just as we stopped by to get the mail. They dropped off a balloon and a hug! That must have been a God thing; we were only at the house for five minutes! K drove off immediately and headed towards the high school to show off the car. Meanwhile, I stressed out at the house when I realized Mellow Mushroom had booked the party room for the exact time I needed it.
We went to dinner that night at Jim and Nick's. Just me, K, M...and their dad. Had fun laughing and catching up. What a sweet thing it is, to know God has worked so mightily in our lives. K told me that evening, "it was a great day." Wonderful words to a mom's ears.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
At the Movies
I just got through watching the last thirty minutes of the Breakfast Club. This movie was a seminal movie from my teen years. Of all of the John Hughes movies out there, this was the one I related to the most. I first watched it at my own birthday party when I was 14. I had three friends spend the night, and we put balloons under our shirts and pretended we had, ahem, large bosoms. Yes, I was a little old for that. Regardless, I related to this movie so much. When the nerd cries and talked about the pressure he was under, I understood. When the goth girl gets a makeover, I loved it. When they all made fun of the popular girl, I was cheering them on.
Watching this movie today, I feel old. The Emilio Estevez character says, "Do you think we're going to grow up to be our parents?" Back then, I used to think, "no way! they are going to be different." Today, I just laugh. Because the reality is, we're not carbon copies of our parents, but we certainly have many similarities; how can we not, we have their genetics!
I think about M and K and wonder what movies really influenced their high school years. Would it be the silliness of "High School Musical"? Or the serious sci-fi shenanigans of "Inception"? What about the movies based on books, like "Twilight" or "Harry Potter"? Man, I sure hope it wasn't a teen movie like "Juno." I'd rather that it's something like "Nancy Drew" which K loves. I know M loves things like "Anchorman", "Baby Mama", and "Crazy Stupid Love," and K is a huge fan of "She's the Man", too. We quote that movie while we watch it. I have to say, I didn't watch nearly as many movies in my teen years as they do now. I remember spending my Friday nights with my parents watching "Dallas", which I'm sure had a huge impact on what I thought relationships shouldn't be like. Not to mention that I was watching soap operas with my parents. On a Friday night. Sigh.
We are shaped by our culture, whether we like it or not. I've learned to try to apply some wisdom to watching movies, but I like fun movies as much as the next person.
"Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...and an athlete...and a basket case...a princess...and a criminal...Does that answer your question?... Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club."
Watching this movie today, I feel old. The Emilio Estevez character says, "Do you think we're going to grow up to be our parents?" Back then, I used to think, "no way! they are going to be different." Today, I just laugh. Because the reality is, we're not carbon copies of our parents, but we certainly have many similarities; how can we not, we have their genetics!
I think about M and K and wonder what movies really influenced their high school years. Would it be the silliness of "High School Musical"? Or the serious sci-fi shenanigans of "Inception"? What about the movies based on books, like "Twilight" or "Harry Potter"? Man, I sure hope it wasn't a teen movie like "Juno." I'd rather that it's something like "Nancy Drew" which K loves. I know M loves things like "Anchorman", "Baby Mama", and "Crazy Stupid Love," and K is a huge fan of "She's the Man", too. We quote that movie while we watch it. I have to say, I didn't watch nearly as many movies in my teen years as they do now. I remember spending my Friday nights with my parents watching "Dallas", which I'm sure had a huge impact on what I thought relationships shouldn't be like. Not to mention that I was watching soap operas with my parents. On a Friday night. Sigh.
We are shaped by our culture, whether we like it or not. I've learned to try to apply some wisdom to watching movies, but I like fun movies as much as the next person.
"Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...and an athlete...and a basket case...a princess...and a criminal...Does that answer your question?... Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club."
Monday, December 3, 2012
Unstudied Chaos
"Home is wherever I'm with you..." My friend Ragan quoted this song by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes on her blog. I love that song. However, I have to admit that my favorite rendition is not from the Zeroes, it's from Jorge and Alexa Narvaez, which you can watch here.
Having said that, I need to mention that I am not living at home. My house is sitting, empty, forlorn, waiting. It's floors are being sanded and refinished. I'm at my friend Beth's watching "The Voice" and making fun of all of the singers.
Is the house a home because of what I do to it? Of course not. It's not the meals that I wish I cooked more often (sad). It's not the Southern Living decor that people put in it that make it a home. Which I don't have. It's not the pinterest crafts that I sometimes stare at, but then think, "Who has time to make this stuff?"
Home is about the relationships you make. The discussions about what your hopes and dreams are, like going to Africa when people are driving you crazy but it really doesn't solve your problems so you argue about it. It's about wondering about which boy you're interested in, like Jake or Oliver or whoever. It's about praying together for those that you know who are suffering. It's about screaming at each other when you lose your tempers and then asking for forgiveness when you realize your sin was just out there on display. It's about laughing together when you're watching a movie or doing something really awkward or sharing a story about your day. It's about coloring together, playing games together, helping one another.
I need to stop feeling guilty about all of the things I don't get to do and just get out there and live. In a way my life is just a little crazy (who would really decide to get floors refinished the week their daughter turns 16, I mean seriously) but I have realized that I like it that way. It's a bit of unstudied chaos with structure thrown in for good measure. It's just me.
Having said that, I need to mention that I am not living at home. My house is sitting, empty, forlorn, waiting. It's floors are being sanded and refinished. I'm at my friend Beth's watching "The Voice" and making fun of all of the singers.
Is the house a home because of what I do to it? Of course not. It's not the meals that I wish I cooked more often (sad). It's not the Southern Living decor that people put in it that make it a home. Which I don't have. It's not the pinterest crafts that I sometimes stare at, but then think, "Who has time to make this stuff?"
Home is about the relationships you make. The discussions about what your hopes and dreams are, like going to Africa when people are driving you crazy but it really doesn't solve your problems so you argue about it. It's about wondering about which boy you're interested in, like Jake or Oliver or whoever. It's about praying together for those that you know who are suffering. It's about screaming at each other when you lose your tempers and then asking for forgiveness when you realize your sin was just out there on display. It's about laughing together when you're watching a movie or doing something really awkward or sharing a story about your day. It's about coloring together, playing games together, helping one another.
I need to stop feeling guilty about all of the things I don't get to do and just get out there and live. In a way my life is just a little crazy (who would really decide to get floors refinished the week their daughter turns 16, I mean seriously) but I have realized that I like it that way. It's a bit of unstudied chaos with structure thrown in for good measure. It's just me.
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