in defense of Christmas carols

long lay the world

in sin

and error

                       pining

until   HE   appeared,

and the soul felt its worth

 

 

in one of the advent readings i read this month the writer encouraged me to make space for worship, and one of his admonishments was to sing regular worship songs rather than Christmas carols.

 

WHAT?! 

 

i wanted to write him and ask if he's ever really paid attention to the carols.  i know that they can be overdone, overlooked, washed-out, used for sentimentality and commercialism, crooned out by grade 6 bands and pop singers in ear-decaying fashion. but.

 

what could be more worship inspiring than the above words?  they have reverberated in me these past weeks - and the soul felt its worth.  long i lay, pining away in my life of sin and error, and then God broke in and offered me worth.  this season, and the whole story of our world, culminates in the Creator God revealing the worth of His creation by becoming a part of it.  fall on your knees!  hear the angel voices!!  o night divine!!!

 

i had the incredible privilege of singing back-up for the worship in our Christmas Eve service last night.  we sang this song, o holy night,  and it was utterly overwhelming - so much so, that i realized i was belting it out a little off key and needed to simmer down :). 

 

chains shall He break for the slave is our brother

and in His name

all oppression shall cease

 

preach it Christmas Carol!!

 

i went to the saskatoon children's choir's Christmas concert and was struck with how at this time of year people of any faith welcome the gospel into their ears.  surely somebody is actually listening.

 

we have had a very silent Christmas, if you don't count the ambulance siren and croupy cough of our son.  no extended family, no friends even (thanks to infectious viruses), just us.  it's been very relaxed and cozy.  naps, tea, snacks, the sound of music, lego, reading.  i haven't stepped outside of the house all day however and i'm feeling that we are going to have to brave the boxing day parking lots tomorrow just to give me a field trip. 

 

i made no turkey.  i did not overachieve.  i haven't swept my floor in days.  aren't you proud of me?

 

the kids are now tucked up in their beds.  i wonder when my five year old will start asking "how many days until Christmas?" again.  could be next week.  i'm off for a peaceful night with my hubby. 

 

i pray for a silent night for you all, heavenly peace-filled sleeps, and the dawn of redeeming grace tomorrow. 

 

 



hope

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion -
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.

Isaiah 61:1-3

this morning a mother did not pack a school lunch.  she did not tell her little one not to forget his mittens.  she is not concerned about school Christmas concerts or the skating field trip. 

my heart is breaking for Connecticut.  i have never cried over a piece of news like i have this past weekend.  i feel stunned, impotent, angry, but mostly, deeply, sad.

how do i proclaim freedom?   how do i bind up?  release? comfort?
ah, but this prophecy is not about janet anderson, it was spoken by an old man (at least i picture Isaiah as always ancient) many years ago, about Jesus.  can He do it?  will He do it?  and can He and will He through me?

last week i was reading this passage in Isaiah 35:

Even the wilderness and desert will be glad in those days.
The wasteland will rejoice and blossom with spring crocuses.
Yes, there will be an abundance of flowers and singing and joy!
The deserts will become as green as the mountains of Lebanon,
as lovely as Mount Carmel or the plain of Sharon.
There the Lord will display his glory,
the splendor of our God.
With this news, strengthen those who have tired hands,
and encourage those who have weak knees. 

i looked back on the wildernesses and deserts of my life - years of living with fear as a constant companion, my journey of looking for safety in the arms of relationships, miscarriages, depression, anxiety, a season where after a near-death experience my daughter did not sleep for months...
flowers have been planted in these deserts. 
each of these wastelands God has turned into something which can display His glory - miraculously.  and just like the spring crocus, in each of these circumstances i had lost hope, i believed the winter would never end, and then i glimpsed a bit of green.  a truth that began the transformation.  it's not that i'm glad i went through those experiences, not that i would welcome them again, but there is a consistent rhythm in my life of God showing up.  God changing me (and this is usually the healing - not that the circumstances change, but that i change in them).  God using those painful places to bring consolation to others who are hurting, maybe even a nugget of wisdom, a sister in the journey.  God did not and does not rid my life of desert places, but He transforms them into gardens.

i wish i could hand that truth to Connecticut.  i deeply want to hold that grieving mother in my arms and cry with her.  i want to let her hold my children and cry out her pain.  i want to cook her a meal and paint her a picture and offer any kindness.  but i know that this healing will not come from me.  It will come from Christ, and i know, i KNOW dear broken mother - it will come.

homage

today is my mother-in-law's birthday.  she is now, officially (in the eyes of the powers that be) a senior.  but i say NO! 
so, an homage to your youth dear Beverly Anderson.  here are some reasons why my mother-in-law (forthwith referred to as 'mom') is in her prime.

she's still in love with her husband, who affectionately refers to her as "Bezerly" and gets misty-eyed when he gives her presents.

when out for a walk she doesn't just stop to smell the flowers, she refers to their Latin names, and their nutritional (or poisonous properties).  then, she'll notice a bird or the way a vine whimsically wraps around a branch or a new bud and she'll be lost in wonder.  going for a walk with my mom is like going for a walk with a genius and a child at the same time - her heart is continually open to wonder and she inspires this wonder in others.

she's still learning and trying new things.  her newest project is helping A Rosha, a Christian conservation society, monitor bird populations in the parks of south surrey.  her last was learning as much as she could about the history of the Mennonite peoples and their various exodus' (exodii?  exodum?).  making jewelry, designing purses, mastering the gluten-free cookie...her repertoire is always expanding.

she giggles.  and also has a delightful full-bellied-pink-cheeks-can't-breath-raucous laugh.

she takes a wicked photograph.  somewhere along her journeys my mom has mastered how to look in a camera.  she does this thing with her smile and eyes, and pretty much her entire demeanor, and she always comes across beautifully.  sometimes when scott points the camera at me i'll think "what would mom do?".  maybe i should make a WWMD? bracelet for myself, or some sort of dangly thing for the tripod.

she enjoys buying me lingerie, and has great taste (praise the Lord!).  "pastors need sexy wives" she'll say, and i couldn't agree more :)

so, to you mom.  here's to many more years of youth.  i love you.

and, in the spirit or encouragement, can i tell you the best compliment i've received recently?  my friend stopped me a week ago in the church foyer and said "i looked at you across the room and i thought 'janet looks great today.....she looks like she's been turned into a vampire'".   the pale skin's working for me folks!!

advent

i love to get my Christmas shopping finished before december for a few reasons (the biggest being that i love buying presents so i start as early as possible).  the BEST reason is so that once the big month hits, i can snuggle up to advent.  i swing my hips side to side, pushing away the debris, and roost. 

my mother-in-law gave me this creche scene one year.  the shepherds look like they've just stepped out of a dickens novel, and there are no wise men or animals - which some might find essential - but i just love it.  i love the beggarly quality of the shepherds.  i love the serenity and joy of mary, throwing her arms up in response to her baby's chubby hands reaching towards her.  i just know she's about to kiss him.  she'll dig her nose into his neck and smell the baby skin, and wonder how she could love a little child any more - and then he'll grab a fist-full of her hair and try to pull it out of her head.  because he was human, and naive, and unaware - and none of these traits of humanity are sinful.
what an honour to the human race that God chose to incarnate himself through our frail and fallible form.  breathtaking. 

it's been snowing every day for the last while.  shadows are blue, the world is a little brighter any hour of the day, the evergreens look like hallmark cards, my nose is a permanent shade of red and we can no longer get into the backyard through our side gate.  you can see why above.  and although the shovelling is tiring, and finding a parking spot is a nightmare, and i had my first fender-bender yesterday - there's nothing better than watching your little ones frolic in the snow.  i know, you're thinking that a good frolic at the beach is nice....true.  but the rosy cheeks and the mittened hands and the smokey laughs.  i love it!

something else i love about this saskatoon winter is that i can make decorations out of ice.  so, a bundt pan and an old wreath make:

 
can't do that in BC!

I've been working with some fellow artists at our church on an advent prayer guide, and a visual art show called "the empty chair initiative".  i was thinking about advent a few months ago, looking for an image to paint for the church, and i came across a chair in a field of wildflowers.  instantly i was thinking about waiting - who was the chair meant for? how long has it been sitting there? consequently  i began seeing areas of my life as a chair waiting to be filled:  my longings for my neighbours that seem to fall short, my desires for my friends to know the fullness of a life lived for Christ, my yearning for my children to deeply grasp the truth.  i thought of how at some Jewish dinner (is it Passover?) there's an empty chair left for Elijah, the prophet who is to precede the Messiah.  of empty chairs which stand as memorials to people who sat in them (ever see Nanny McPhee?).  and then i pictured a wall covered in images of chairs, communicating where we as a church family long for Jesus to show up in our world, long for the Messiah and his kingdom, places where we wait in eager anticipation for Christ to come again. 

well, i got 5.  not exactly a covered wall, but it's a start!  the little show was hung in the church on Friday and I feel very proud of it.  Four of the images can be seen in the prayer guide, which you can find here. i think i've done the work of preparing for this season well, now i just need to rest in it.  which, truthfully, can be the harder work for some reason.

my prayer for us is that this advent season is one of new awareness:  of our longing, our need, our dependence, our hope; and a fuller understanding of the miracle of a God 'putting skin on and moving into the neighbourhood' - as Eugene Peterson so eloquently puts it.  heaven forbid that Christmas should pass us by, and we remain unchanged.

old friends and border guards

i heard the most appalling thing the other day.
i was standing in line at Sobey's and i overheard a conversation that went like this:
"which cheese did you choose?"
"monterey jack"
"hm.  cheese is cheese."

it was literally a crisis moment for me.  do i step in and educate?  do i offer some boursin?  i stood there and glanced at the speakers out of the corner of my eye.  they were in their early twenties.  babies.  a prickle of pity, but also something akin to judgement?  incredulity? maybe a little anger?  i decided not to speak up, but found a friend leaving the store at the same time as me and quickly informed her of the overheard blasphemy.  she mentioned cracker barrel, i recalled aged gouda, and some hope returned to my saddened heart.

last friday night i was overwhelmed with cheese greatness.  why?  i was in BC, surrounded by friends who understand "mon petit demon".  so they came over to leah's house laden down with a multitude of cheeses.  comfort and joy!  we ate and talked and bloated and laughed.  it was fantastic.  there's something so cozy about being surrounded by old friends - like memory foam.  you just sink right in and feel supported in all of your two thousand parts.  they know you, and remember that time you...and the way you...and how you...and they still love you.  and believe the best about you.  and trust your intentions and understand your heart.  and you for them. 

the opposite of an old friend is a border guard. 

picture a car filled with three women in their thirties (i'm one, we're all cute and a little giddy being sans children).  it's early saturday morning and we're attempting a run across the border for some shopping while i'm in town.  we have our passports ready. 

we have not discussed it but i think we're all planning on beginning the border-guard relationship with large smiles and a hint of flirtation.  we pull up, the windows are rolled down.  we each make eye contact and hitch up the smiles so that they hit the corners of our eyes, just a little.  sparkle.  say hello. 

back peddle!  this man does not want smiles that hit the eyes!!

serious faces, still soft, but more contemplative.  as if to say "you have a gun.  yes.  we see that and respect your power and authority, but can't you see that we are as harmless as doves?"  don't look at each other.  remain calm.

oh, wait, he's lightening up.  offer some info, bring the smiles up half a notch.

back peddle!  yes and no will do, say nothing more.  stop smiling all together.  begin praying for mercy. angle the eyebrows - think shar pei, or hound dog, but try not to look desperate.  embody submission.

slowly drive away.

because our friend Jacyln is sure that the border crossings are heavily bugged (a.k.a. they can hear you) say positive things for the first thirty seconds.  "what a kind man.  i'm so glad he takes his job seriously.  my!  i feel safe, don't you?" 

then gun it and breathe out and complain for a good five minutes. :) if old friends are memory foam, boarder guards are a bed of nails.  or maybe a sleeping bag with a snake at the bottom.  i'm glad we made it out alive!

and truly, as long as you're with friends you love, even militant border guards can be fun.  after.

so, a toast.  to old friends, and new friends who feel like old friends, and strangers who will one day become old friends.  to you.

cheers.

holiday eve

so i'm all smiles and giggles today - well, maybe not ALL, but the percentage is high.  why?  you ask...
tomorrow i fly to BC for a long-awaited weekend away.  Scott has taken multiple trips since we've arrived in this fair land of Saskatoon, and has been holding out a glittering carrot of hope:  "one day i'm going to send you away for a weekend".  granted, most of his trips have been workish ones, but many have also included an extra day to see family and friends.  so, i'm cashing in!  the glittering carrot has been turned into coconut carrot cupcakes and will travel with me.  i just returned from the library with a juicy novel in hand, i've got a book of crosswords (they make me feel smart and stupid at the same time), and a box of wool and knitting books awaiting me across the border in Washington.  it feels surreal that i'll be in the arms of my dear friends in a mere 24 hours.  hoorah!

i will miss my family however.  my kids are in this glorious stage of imaginative play.  last night they spent a full hour with polly pockets in the bathroom sink.  and sunday night they slept together in a tent in one of their bedrooms.  my son crawled into bed with me a few mornings ago (he still gives me daily morning snuggles, something i'm going to hold onto until it gets glaringly awkward) and he said "mom, i just gave my sister some snuggles.  it was AWESOME!  i told her she was pretty".  come on!!  that is just riches, riches on riches.

and, of course, i will miss my husband.  my marriage is a sleepover with my very best friend every day of the week (with great benefits).  i do not look forward to a cold bed, and to phone conversations that always leave me feeling short-changed.  life is always better spent when spent with him.

but i'll manage.


we are definitely into winter here in the prairies.  scott went for a run in snow and a temp of minus ten on the weekend - my own personal Rocky!  i asked if he yelled "Jaaannnneeettt" in a voice that sounded like his nose is broken.  but he didn't.  shame. 
we also went tobogganing on monday as a family - it's always good to feel that you are coming close to death on remembrance day.  this was my first time on a sled in 9 years - i've been nursing a damaged tailbone.  so, when i ended up rocketing down a hill BACKWARDS with my daughter, i panicked.  i bailed.  i'm sorry to say that i didn't feel the worst of it, poor girl.  i am in need of some basic training in my war with snow, obviously.   today the sun is bright and the shadows blue and the ground white - it is truly beautiful.  but i am looking forward to seeing some green :). 

well, i'm off to pack and clean the on-suite.  or, at least pack.  i'll see many on you soon!

Friday night

you will NEVER guess what i did this weekend.  no, don't even try, it's pointless.
i was with my friend when she gave birth to her beautiful baby girl friday night.  YES!  it was incredible, absolutely awe inspiring. 
awe
in
spir
ing.

to see my friend's stomach, hard as a rock, shifting downwards, i promise you i watched it dropping.  lots of breathing, lots and lots and lots of pain, bodily fluids, exhaustion, waiting, waiting, suffering, surviving, a few minutes of scrambling and medical professionalism and then there's a baby girl! little finger nails, peeking out between her lashes, staring at her mother, smiling at her father (i swear!).

i must say, i feel for the husband.  i know, i know, what a ridiculous thought when staring at your dear friend who is hardly able to breath she's in so much pain..  but i felt completely helpless, there was nothing i could do to take any pain away from her, all i could offer was a hand to hold and a smile and some encouraging words.  after a while i started wondering if my "you're amazing!  you're doing so incredible!" were starting to irritate.  i mean, i was irritating myself.  and i looked at her man, so intent and caring and calm and thought - it sucks. i wonder if most men think "this is my fault.  what have i done?"

at one point she was sitting on an exercise ball, and her husband was sitting behind her on a chair, and she was leaning back on him.  he was supporting her and talking with her and holding her.  what a beautifully intimate picture of their marriage to be privileged to witness.  i bet my mouth was open.

and then, to see her baby stare into her eyes.  i thought i'd never witness it again - it has to be one of the most beautiful of all life's moments.  and THEN, and i was waiting for this, watching my friend realize "holy crap!  I just did that!  I'm invincible!!".  there's nothing like the rush you get from birthing a child - experiencing the impossibility of life.  one minute you think you're going to die, and the next you think nothing could kill you.  if only they could harness the strength of a brand new mom.  then they could feed it to one-day-old moms. there could be a series of little white capsules you break open that are labelled "when baby reaches two". 

and, in case you're wondering, we made it through the entire process without me seeing her lady parts.  nothing short of miraculous.  i didn't have to relive grade 10 biology, hallelujah!  and my friend did not lose her sense of privacy (that's pronounced with short "i" sounds, like the British say it.  i've decided it sounds more sophisticated that way.  especially when your five year old busts in the bathroom.  "give me some privicy!").

sorry that my friday night was much better than yours.  i bet your saturday night was better than mine though, so we're even.  unless you were sick on the couch as well - then i guess i'm still winning. :)