No Room at the Inn?

It has been awhile since I wrote.  I think the gap occurred when my mother became ill and then passed into heaven.  At that time I did not seem to have any words in me to share.

Now, though, with the coming of Christmas, I have been immersing my heart in the old, old stories of the season.  But with new eyes.

First, let me highly recommend my 2 fav bloggers' Advent books.  The 1st is by Liz Curtis Higgs, entitled The Women of Christmas.  It is an awesome new look at the lives of three women from the first Advent of Christ.  (http://www.lizcurtishiggs.com/)

The second is a devotional by Ann Voskamp, The Greatest Gift.  It has 25 days of devotions that follow along with the Jesse Tree. (http://www.aholyexperience.com/)  Both of these women have a wonderful way with words that I cherish and appreciate.

So why this title "No Room at the Inn?'?  Because as I have been reliving the Christmas story I have been stopped cold by the thought that the Creator God has no room at the inn.  That the people of the story are saying no to their Creator!

Mary and Joseph are newly wed.  They are young, Mary much younger than I had thought she was.  They have traveled to the City of David, better known as Bethlehem, because God had stirred the heart of the ruler in those parts to count all the people.  This required them to travel about 100 miles to Joseph's family's town.

They must have walked, for few people could afford even a mule then.  I wonder if the roads were dusty and dry.  Or were they packed down hard by the many travelers ahead of them?  Maybe it was wet and muddy?  All I really know is that they were walking and walking while Mary's womb held God Himself.  (Gives me goosebumps!)

This weary couple knocked at the door of the inn as the noisy throngs partied about them.  Party, you ask.  I think there were some who viewed this required "vacation" as one big party.  A reunion for many with family they had not seen for some time.

Mary, young, pregnant with God's Only Son, stands and waits with hope that they will find room at the inn.  But alas, no room.  Perhaps they were late-comers to the reunion and their kinsmen had taken all the rooms.

Or, maybe, the innkeeper was a greedy person.  He had guests of varying status in life, some much richer than others, as seen by their fine robes.  Others not so well off, but still able to pay.  But this young couple?  He could tell that they could not pay as well as others.  Maybe he even considered turning someone out of their rooms.  But this couple could not begin to match the rent of those he already had.

Could Mary hear the paying customers behind the innkeeper's back?  Did they acknowledge her state and sympathize with her?  Poor girl.  Or did they turn their backs and drink their wine in disinterest?  Could not one of them offer to sleep in the dining room so the young couple could have a room?

The rich ones would not have even thought of such a thing.  Make room for this poor couple?  We don't move over for anyone!  Or maybe they feared being out in the street.  So many people, so many thieves and purse-cuts.  No, they could not give up the safety of their room.

And for a moment I am looking with angel-eyes at this scene:  the darkening sky contrasted with the fire burning brightly behind the innkeeper; the joy and noise from inside verses the eerie quietness outside in the street; the rested and well-fed guests highlighted behind the weary, even hungry couple.  God's Son, Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-us, rejected even before His birth.

I tell you we too fit into this picture.  When Jesus was preparing to die, He told His disciples that He was going to have to leave so that the Father could send His Helper to them.  He would die a dishonorable death crucified on a cross, the only charge against Him?  Our sins.  My sins.  Your sins.  To pay on our behalf.

He did not stay dead, but rose to new life.

Then God sent His Spirit to come and live in us if we only believe.

"...because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us" (Romans 5:5).  

And "Do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you?" (1Cor. 6:19).

Is there room in your heart for this "God-with-us"?  Most of us would not make room for Him, steeped in the Me-Generation that we are.  We fear that we will have to give up something.  Money.  Jobs.  Comfort. Self-sufficiency.  Safety.  Free time.

Yet Jesus said, "I stand at the door and knock" (Rev. 3:20)  He wants to know if there is room in your Heart's Inn?

The Secret of Contentment

"Joy is never made by Having More. Joy is always made by EnJoying More.

More Christ, more now, more grace."  (from Ann Voskamp  over at http://www.aholyexperience.com/ )

How did she know?  Did someone open my heart and reveal the wanting in there that I thought wasn't seeable?  That wanting that I thought I had under control.

How did she know?

"Joy is never made by Having More."  I know that.  I mean, in my head where fractions are formed, and checkbooks are balanced.  That place where things fit perfectly, square pegs in their square holes.  Where creativity and art is lost, but right angles and straight lines rule.

I know, think, conclude that "having more" won't make joy.  

But my heart doesn't know this.  My heart.  That place where words long to spill out onto white pages arranged in sentences of cadence that fulfill that creative urge in me.  The place where I feel things.  My heart.  My soul.  My "right brain" (or is it left?).

A few weeks back a sweet dear friend and her daughter came to visit.  I already had my 2 granddaughters, 6 years and 6 months, here.  Add to that my youngest mommy-daughter with her 2 kids.  It was a sweet time of talking and noise and wildness all crammed into my living areas that are way too small.  

Too small.  Too cramped.  Too many walls.  Not any open spaces.  That is what I saw.  I need more space to spread out and not feel I'm on top of the next person, in their space, toys under their feet and mine.  Tables cluttered.  Things "put up" so little fingers can't be harmed.

Too small.

My heart says, "Wouldn't it be nice?  Remember that other house?  The big 2-story with more room?  That is the type of house you need.  THAT would make you happy."

But it is not more things, more space, more out there that I need.  It is "More Christ, more now, more grace."  Him in here.

I then return to the beginning, prayer.  This is where we each have started on walk with Jesus.  A humbling, an accepting of His grace, His mercy, poured out on us to forgive us.  Forgive me.  I beg to be cleansed again of this discontentment, this wanting  more.  And I try to calm my nerves and relax, try to be in the moment.

So I sit on the floor with toys and kids all around me, with homework and snacks on the coffee table, and voices trying to out do one another.  I sit where there is no more floor space, not even an inch.  And I wonder, maybe it is in the moment of play, or book reading, or be-in-the-moment time that true joy is found.  Just being in that spot, listening and smiling and enjoying, that is where true joy is.

"Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstance I am in.  I have learned the secret of being filled and of going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering want.  I can do all things through Him who strengtens me." (Philippians 4:11-13)  Verses set to memory.  Truths to remember.  

I am not there yet.  As Paul also said in Philippians, "Not that I have already obtained it, or already become perfect" (3:12).  I am a work in progress for sure.

So I am down on my knees, asking, begging, pleading with God to change--not my circumstances--but me!  Make me the kind of woman who can claim with Paul that I have learned this secret of contentment.

Lessons from August

It's hard to believe that it is the end of August already.  Here in the midwest the heat has finally taken a choke hold on us and we are simmering at near 100 degrees.  So it feels more like July than September.

But with the end of the month comes "What I learned this Month."

1)  We had an awesome summer here and I nearly forgot to thank God for it.  Now that it is in the high 90's, I am thanking and praising God for a summer that was not so hot, literally.

2)  God will see me through.  I guess I already know this, but I am reminded of it after each Middle School Camp I have completed.  Being over 50 and having fibromyalgia, it is only by the grace of God that I can make it through these summer camps.  And, PTL, the weather was fantastic this year.

3)  God gives babies to young mothers for a reason.  I'm getting too old for fussy babies.

4)  Just today He "reminded" me of "And He has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.'  Most gladly therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me . . . for when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:9-10).  I need this repetition!  Please keep reminding me, Lord.

5)  Stepping down from a ministry that you love without being able to see the next step to a new ministry is extremely hard.  I stand on the rim of the His Word's lamplight waiting to see where that next step is.  Lord, don't let me fall.

6)  Sometimes Always I am embarrassed when people introduce me as a prayer warrior.  First, I know I do not measure up.  I am weak.  But He is my strength and He is able to do more than I can ever ask.  And, second, right now I don't feel like a warrior.  A warrior trains when things are peaceful and fights when war arises.  I pray when things are peaceful and cringe when the fighting begins.

Now its your turn.

What I learned in July

One of my new fav bloggers is Emily over at http://www.chattingatthesky.com/.  She enjoys ending her month thinking back and blogging about what she learned.  Recently, she asked her readers to chime in.  Well, I doubt I can come up with as many as Emily, but I'll give it a go.  (I had hoped to post this within her time frame, but middleschool camp delayed me.)

1.  This has been an awesome summer here in the Midwest.  The temps have been tolerable for once and I've been able to spend more time outside.

2.  Hubby CAN pick out awesome colors.  He is color blind to many shades of green and red.  But when he took our rescued porch glider to some guys who cleaned it up and "powder-coated" it, he made an awesome choice in colors.  I love it!

3.  I'm loving me some grandbabies!  Three days a week I watch my 6-year-old and 8-month-old granddaughters.  Then once a week (or so) my youngest daughter-momma brings over her 18- and 2-month-olds to spend most of the day.  Awesome!  I love that my "work", processing One Girl bracelet orders for Tiny Hands International (check them out at www.tinyhandsinternational.org) allows me to be available to my extended family.

4.  I miss the phones from Tiny Hands.  In May I was feeling extremely overwhelmed with all that I was doing, including #3 + coordinating product parties for Tiny Hands and answering their phone.  So I resigned from both.  Now, with school fast approaching, I'm missing some of that work.  Hoping to get the phone back soon.  (Nope, no way do I want the product parties back.  Sorry, Aaron.)

5.  I have enjoyed having a sweet kindred spirit back in the states for 3 months.  Has it been 3 months?  That means that 1/2 her time back is over.  Jodi, we need to get together again! (Plans are in the works for next week.)

6.  My mother turned 93.  What have I learned from that?  I have good genes.  Better take care of this old body God gave me for I'm only slightly over 1/2 way there.

7.  With God's help I can make a quilt in less than a month.  Total shock to me!

8.  I don't think I can learn a foreign language at my age.  I did the tutorial sample from Rosetta Stone.  Hmm, not sure I remember anything from it.  It was all . . . Spanish to me!

9.  Going along with #8, I can't remember much of the blogging course I took through ed2go.com.  Like, how am I going to post that photo of my glider? (I DID it!!!) You can teach this old dog new tricks, but you'll have to keep teaching me over and over.

10.  Fav quote that I just found:  "Legalism says God will love us if we are good, while the gospel tells us God will make us good because HE LOVES US."  (I guess this is a quote of CS Lewis cited in Jesus + Nothing = Everything by Tullian Tchividjian.)  July lessons

A Stranger in a Foreign Country

"You are doing something great with your life – when you’re doing all the small things 

with His Great love...

You aren’t a citizen of here working your way into heaven. 

You’re a citizen of heaven working His Way through here."  

(Ann Voskamp over at www.aholyexperience.com)

My favorite writer posted these words a few days ago.  They stirred in me a reminder that caught something deep in my soul.

"You aren't a citizen of here working your way into heaven."  That is me.  I'm not a citizen of here.  This earth, this house, this city, is not my home.  I am not a citizen of this place, down here, below heaven.

How often have I sighed that very feeling trying to release it from my soul?  How often have I had to  replace my thinking from planning and fixing and striving for the accolades and babbles of this world? Wrong thinking that pulls me away from the truth of God's calling.  For "My citizenship is in heaven, from which I wait oh, so anxiously for my Savior."  (My paraphrase of Philippians 3:20).  

I have physical knowledge of this very feeling of not belonging here.  A feeling of longing for another place, that place I called home.  Uprooted from the safety of the United States of America, and planted, transplanted, recklessly sown in the soil of Deutschland (West Germany 1975).  God who was watching over me and Hubby even then though it would be 4 more years before He grabbed hold of us, seemed to toss us there for a time.

I felt that deep unsettledness.  It's a feeling that things are not quite right.  That I'm not home anymore.

At the time I chalked it up to being in a foreign country, being Americans where Americans weren't wanted, being a soldier's wife with very little income.  Everything then was strange: the one-room apartment with German neighbors, the hospital situation where I delivered my second baby, the transportation system of streetcars, buses and autobahns.

I so longed to go home!
  

But looking at it all from this side of the Cross, I could have felt as much at home in Nuremburg as I do here in Nebraska.  I know now that part of my uneasiness stemmed from that in-born heartsong that has yet to feel its Maker's hold on it.  Part of my unsettledness was how lost I was at that time.  B.C.--before Christ.

So even today as I sit at the window in my computer room and look out on my homestead, a small parcel of land with a small brick house and 3 porches and a driveway with my old car, I still feel that unsettledness of not being at home.  Not here.  Not on this side of heaven.

And its that same feeling as I had back in the 70's in Germany.  This is not home.  I'm biding my time, waiting to cross over, hoping to become an Overcomer.

To be an Overcomer I must continue on to live this life that I've been given.  To be an Overcomer I must do and keep doing what God has ordained for me to do, zealous in good works, until the goal is reached.

I know that peace can come even as a foreigner in a strange land.  An Overcomer does not become a resident here in this foreign place.  An Overcomer works out her salvation, doing her Maker's work, keeps at it, turning away from complacency that threatens to suck her heart into wrong workings, wrong thinking, wrong goals.

"He who overcomes will thus be clothed in white garments;

 and I will not erase his name from the book of life, and I will confess his name before My father and before His angels.'" (Rev. 3:5)

"'He who overcomes,

 I will make him a pillar in the temple of My God, 

and he will not go out from it anymore; 

and I will write on him the name of My God, 

and the name of the city of My God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven from My God, and My new name.'" (v 12)

"'He who overcomes,

 I will grant to him to sit down with Me on My throne,

 as I also overcame 

and sat down with My Father on His throne.'" (v 21)

Ah, home.  Back with the Father who created me.  Dressed in my princess clothes.  A pillar of His temple, never to leave again.  Seated as His daughter.

I am a citizen of heaven and I am working out the Maker's plans for me here on this foreign soil. What I do may seem small, even trivial, (diaper changing, sweeping floors, dusting cobwebs) but when done with the expectation that He is coming and He will take me with Him to Paradise, then none of it can be drudgery.

How about you, sister?  Are you a daughter of the King of Kings?  Are you living here and now like a stranger in this foreign land?  Sharing the Good News?  It is my prayer that you are my sister-in-Christ.

"To the only wise God through Jesus Christ, be the glory forever and ever. Amen" 

(Romans 16:27).

Can illness and pain be an idol?

I have heard and read much lately on the idols we North American Christians have.  In fact I've even taught my youth girls about them.

I'm sure you've also heard about them.  You know, those things that in and of themselves are not bad, but if they go unchecked can begin to consume our time, our thoughts, even our hearts.

Living in a college town that seems to worship at the altar of football, I know how sports can become idol-istic.  Foolish fans with faces painted half one color and half another.  (Didn't the Picts paint their faces like that when they went to war?)  The elaborate tailgate parties, you know, the ones with white table clothes and silver chaffing dishes, where the tailgate is nowhere to be seen.

Or there are careers of many kinds, all paying dividends, sucking our lives and our time, requiring more and more of us.

Or eating?  Oh, yes.  I'm going to say it.  Gluttony can be an idol.  I know.  I battle it.

Our families, our bodies, our health, and on and on it goes.

But what about the things that we wouldn't consider to be idols because they aren't good for us?  You might agree with alcohol and drugs.  Sure they can easily become idols. And they are fun--at first.  But then the addiction sets in and our bodies craving makes the worship unbearable.

And then it struck me the other day.  It was a Sunday and my pastor was reviewing his past sermons closing out our study of 1 Corinthians.  And one thing sucked the air out of me.  He asked, "What is the one thing you seem to think about first thing in the morning or last thing at night?"

My answer, plain and simple:  The Pain.

Its not that I dwell on it, nurturing loving thoughts of it.  On the contrary, its usually not nice loving thoughts EVER about The Pain.  Yet, I do think about it first thing in the morning.

You see my fibromyalgia causes muscle and nerve pain most of the time.  I take some meds at night that keep the spasms away so I can sleep.  But as soon as 7:00 am hits, no matter how tired I may still be, The Pain forces me to get up and start moving.  If I don't, I hurt.  If I get up I can take ibuprofen to removes its sting.

And at night it is the same.  Too much pain to sit up any longer, my bed beckons me to come and relax on it.  I toss and turn and wait to fall asleep, trying to appease The Pain for a few hours of peace.

I always measure my response to requests to serve at church through The Pain filter.  Do I think this will cause me stress and thus pain?  And if so, is it worth that suffering?  And how long will it take me to recover from said ministry?  Do I have that time to be "lazy"?

Can you see why I was wondering if The Pain was my idol?

I decided to ask my husband if he thought chronic pain or illness could be an idol?  And in his usual, straight forward, engineering way (which I love about him), he said, "Are you nuts?" (Well, not exactly those words, but definitely the idea.) Even when I explained my thinking he didn't get my point of view.  But that's okay, I love him still.

I knew immediately who would understand my thinking.  Jodi.  Sweet Jodi is a kindred spirit.  We met through emails as I prayed and tried to encourage her in her calling a half a world away.  Jodi was a missionary and I had joined our mission's board.  We emailed back and forth and we found a mutual ability to think in the same "nutty" ways.

And she did understand!  (I knew she would.)  She agreed that yes, idols could be bad things as much as good things.

All this to say, well, nothing in particular.  Just was wondering if chronic pain or illness could be a form of a spiritual idol.  What do you think?

Don't forget to remember

"Bless the LORD, O my soul,

And all that is within me,

  bless His holy name."

-Psalm 103:1

I have been praying Psalm 103 back to God for a few weeks.

I know that these are His words.  His words given to me.  But there is so much weight in His words that better conveys my love and worship of Him.

Especially Psalm 103.

Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name.

Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget none of His benefits.

That is an awesome reminder.  Of late I have been noticing the many times He reminds me to remember.  Hear that again!  He reminds me to remember.  (I know I'm forgetful but to be reminded to remember--wow!)

We are instructed to remember "the word" (John 15:20), remember not to be arrogant (Rom. 11:18),  remember Jesus Christ risen from the dead (2 Timothy 2:8).

Of God it is said that He remembers His covenants with man (Luke 1:72), and the flip side that He remembers NOT my sins (Hebrews 8:12).

Paul must have had a great memory!  I believe that he had an awesome prayer life.  He often repeats and hammers home how much he remembers to pray for others. "I thank my God in all my remembrance of you" or something like this is read in Philippians 1:3, Rom 1:10, Eph 1:16, 1 Thess 1:2)

Now I'm not a great theologian or teacher.  I merely share here what I have been learning.  So grace is much appreciated.

Remember is defined as "to be mindful of, to remember, to call to mind, to hold in memory, keep in mind" (Strong's Edition, www.studylight.org).

I like that definition.  Call to mind.  Pull it up out of the deep file folders of my mind and then keep it in mind, at the ready, handy.

The Israelites were often told that if they remembered the covenant of God, the Law of God, and did what God commanded, that things would go well with them.  But they failed over and over.

So God reminds me.  He reminds all of us.  Remember.

For me it is a heart issue, this need to remember.  My failing is in that I forget.  Often.  I forget oh so quickly how God has graced me with His joy and mercy in past needful times.  I forget that He is unchanging and He will grant me the strength, again, to accomplish the tasks before me.

For "my cup runneth over" (Psalm 23:5c) with His mercies and strengths.

So I am trying to learn to count my blessings as I've read in One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.  (I highly recommend this book on recording, and so remembering, the blessings God gives us.  Find more info at www.aholyexperience.com.) I have found that when I dwell on the blessings, good or bad, writing them down and rereading them often, I can remember.  I can hold them before me, handy, ready to be grabbed hold of when I feel unworthy, weak, on the edge.

And so I have been praying back all the wonderful things that God has given me, listed right out for me there in Psalm 103:

• He pardons all my iniquities
• He heals all my diseases
• H redeems my life from the pit
• He crowns me! with lovingkindness and compassion
• He satisfies my years with good things
• His compassion
• His grace
• He is slow to anger
• He has not dealt with ME according to my sins, according to what I deserve

And so I pray, and thank Him.  And I remember.