The Longest Night of the Year

It’s almost here. The longest night EVER! Nope it’s not December 21^st, the winter solstice, as all the papers and scientists would have you believe. I’m talking about the night of December 24^th , you know, Christmas Eve. And here’s the reason this will be the longest night…

1. My children have decided that bedtime is for sissies.  No naps, no early bedtimes. I can’t even con them into a ride in the car to look at Christmas lights and perhaps, being strapped down in a safety seat, they will fall asleep.
2. We have 2 bikes to put together and the hours until Christmas Eve are dwindling. I work tomorrow and then it’s basically Christmas Eve, which means we will be up late (see #1 above) and have to be up later because we did not choose the free assembly option! We are so smart!
3. My children are EXCITED about Christmas. 2 weeks ago, Isaiah started crying when I told him Christmas was 14 days away. He said it was, “too far away, Mommy! And Santa will never get here!” Bennett just feeds off of Isaiah’s excitement so we truly have it coming.
4. This is where I get my paybacks I’m sure. I was the child up at 4 am, stomach feeling like a bunch of jumping beans, doing everything I could to stay in bed one more minute without bursting. I have no doubt my children will also be up early this holiday. So given that we will probably crash around 2 am, the two hour nap will be just what I need to start my day! ( BTW sorry mom and dad for being up at 4 am every Christmas)
5. We are leaving on a 12 hour car trip Christmas afternoon. I’m very excited about spending the holidays back in Michigan with my family. I’m not very excited about driving the distance that will get us there. If you read “The LONG Road Home” back in September, you will understand my hesitation to get back in my car. On a side note, Brad is on this trip, so at least I will not feel like the sole responsible adult for our littles.

I realize this whole list sounds like complaining, or in all honesty, it is complaining. The truth is, the holidays are my favorite time of year, and this year Advent has been such an emotional time for me. Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m waiting for a lot of things that are yet to come. I’ve never been a patient person.  And the holidays are great, I’ve loved traveling to see old friends, sharing memories with my kids, baking, eating, and planning. But it sure is exhausting! I love that my kids have gotten to give to others and see that Christmas isn’t all about them. I’m so proud that they were all into the Christmas performance at church (even if Bennett took out a poinsettia or two). I’m ready to be in my parent’s new home and to just be there. No work, no on-call nights, and lots of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends to just be with. So even though the longest night is coming, I’m hoping my longest night (and Brad’s too) will be followed by a couple long nights of rest, rejuvenation, and maybe a good glass of wine!

Merry Christmas Everyone! May you know that a child was born for you! A son was given for you, because God loves you so much and even if your holiday feels like the longest night of your life, know that God came here to be the dawn in the darkness! Many blessings~Lisa

Finding Joy All Over Again

Today we celebrated the 3rd Sunday in Advent, the Sunday of Joy. I automatically started singing the little song we learned in Sunday School many years ago, "I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart." [Insert your most screeching, annoying voice] "Where?" "Down in my heart!" But it occurred to me, that so many of my recent Christmases and I'm sure for so many, this Christmas, the joy is hard to come by. Sure I may have joy down in my heart, but it's pretty deep down there and it's covered by a lot of junk the world has thrown at me.

So how can this whole joy thing be real for so many when joy seems so deeply buried under lots of hurt and pain? I can't speak for others, but I know that a couple years ago, I was just done acting like I was good, things were okay, and I was happy about Christmas. It was Christmas Eve and my joy had gone out the window about a week prior as our new bathroom renovation was all for naught and the tub started leaking again through the roof of our living room. I was frustrated because we had seemed to make a number of financial mistakes that year and this was just another point showing how we didn't get what we paid for. Add to that some post-partum depression and it was just the perfect storm at Christmas time.

Brad and I usually lead the Christmas Eve service together, but the thought of doing that on this Christmas Eve when everything had gone wrong, felt like the most fake thing I could do. I didn't even want to show up and pretend things were fine when they weren't. So I called him with about 10 minutes to go before service and told him I couldn't do it. I wasn't going to show up and answer "Fine" when everyone asked "how are you?".  This is what this whole holiday season feels like for so many. While some find it joyful, for those that don't, it's almost worse because you feel guilty for not being entranced by the "magic of the season".

And then there's this week of Advent, the week of joy. Joy means, "A feeling of great pleasure and happiness" but that wasn't me that Christmas. There wasn't a lot that gave me any kind of happiness. What kind of person can't even enjoy this holiday through their child's eyes? No one really had a good answer to that. To make it worse, I was the pastor's wife and with that comes some pressure (whether self-imposed or just unspoken) to have it together.  Unfortunately for this pastor's wife, I'm completely and utterly human. That means that depression and anxiety and awful things happening in life don't pass me up for someone else. Christmas was sad that year, I was sad that year.

I have a few years between me and that Christmas, and I realized that trying to be perfect and act like everything was perfect was sucking the little bit of joy there was out of Christmas.  Advent is this time of waiting for the big thing to happen. After all, Jesus is coming, but waiting is hard. I can give you several examples using my children as the subjects to demonstrate that waiting even for a short time is excruciating. And if we are waiting on joy, the wait can be more painful as each day passes.

Maybe that's why we have to celebrate hope and peace before we can get to joy. Because I don't think we can have true joy before we have hope and peace. When I look back at that bad Christmas, I see that hope and peace were absent. But one day a few months later hope began creeping back in, mainly in the form of people who loved me well. They were the messengers of hope and peace. It started with little laughs, a chance to help them out sometime and getting some thanks in return, and really just choosing to get out of bed some days.

This is why I'm no longer so into the perfect Christmas season. Instead, I feel a great call to be more than a representative of Pinterest perfection. I'd rather people see a little rough edge than a perfectly shiny exterior, because maybe then someone can feel that they aren't in this alone. The joy is yet to come. It's there deep in us, and it will resurface. After all, God's greatest joy didn't show up in any way anyone would have predicted. It was a teenage mother who didn't have a husband and gave birth surrounded by animals because there was no where else to go. Not the most ideal circumstances by far. And that's when joy has a chance, because gloom and doom are so quick to shut out the happiness, it makes experiencing true joy again so much better. Sometimes just showing up to face this holiday without holding ourselves to the ideals of what we should be feeling and just allowing ourselves to feel all the feelings, gives us permission to find joy...even if it's just a little.  Because the truth is, the joy comes in the morning, it just may take a few wake-ups before we get a chance to experience it!

The Glow

Every Christmas, Brad writes a poem for the Christmas Eve service. He's usually quick to write them, as that is one of his many talents. Last year he was struggling and I just had a lot on my heart so I wrote a poem. He found his inspiration, but sweetly said he had read this and thought it was good. I'm sharing it this year, because Advent seems so much more important to me lately. I need to be reminded that we are in a waiting period and that this time is meant for reflection and growth. I hope some of you will find your Hope, Peace, Love, and Joy this season!

The Glow

A baby born 2000 years ago

And angels illuminated the sky

The Glow shown round the hilltops

To shepherds watching nearby

Darkness falls around us

The winter time has come

Yet God’s plan lights the path

And Jesus is the ONE

But burdens we all bare

Make a raging fire, dim

We cannot see the glory

We can barely picture HIM

That baby born in Bethlehem

So removed from you and me

The glow of a star doesn’t shine on us

This isn’t how it is suppose to be

But reminders are all around us

God sent his son to save

We don’t deserve it, never earned it

Our victory o’er the grave

The Glow doesn’t always appear

When we are feeling down and out

It doesn’t fill us with joy

If life has taken a different route

But God’s glow doesn’t wane

It’s here for us today

Pulling us back to Bethlehem

The very Christmas day

Sometimes fires fade

And darkness is all around

But God’s glow continues, it’s steady

Ready to be found

It’s a fire in the hearth

Keeping all around it warm

It’s a place for homeless men

To shelter them from a storm

It’s children’s eyes as they see new things

Wonderment and awe

It’s beating cancer

A journey that seemed so far

The glow waxes and wanes

But it’s always there to see

God’s perfect Christmas gift

Who died on Calvary

Jesus wasn’t given

As a check off Christmas list

He was given just for us

For a time such as this

So that glow may be different

For all of us right now

God’s giving you a gift

Where shepherds came to bow

That tiny little baby

Brought into the world one night

He is the glow

Heaven’s One True Light

So as you celebrate

Or wonder about it all

Remember that God’s glow

Reversed the dreaded fall

That special Christmas gift

Was born for those who seek

Those who needed saving

The poor, the lame, the meek

He came for all of us

It’s important that you know

Jesus is the way, the truth

The reason for a glow!

Big Girls DO Cry

As a teenager, I remember having conversations with my girlfriends about movies and they would talk about how emotional they would get because of the storylines...not me! I didn't cry at Lifetime movies. I wasn't sobbing in the theaters during the end of Armageddon. I just wasn't moved by things on screen like my girlfriends were.

I'm not sure when this changed. I don't know if living in this cruel world has made me more emotional or having children has changed my perspective, but what I do know is that when I see or hear or experience poignant moments, I now seem to cry frequently. Of course, I still try to save these "episodes" for a private setting, mostly in my car. And I never want to burst out the waterworks where I would have to explain to people why I'm crying.

This past week I cried a lot because of the overwhelming sense that this country has hurt a whole race of people. My crying was because I have done nothing about this and I still feel frozen in place, confused what my role could be in changing how my interaction with my black friends and acquaintances can begin the healing that needs to happen. I cried for a mamma who has lost her son and for all of the kids that run through our clinic who are "at-risk" and could easily leave this world way before their time. I cried because this world overwhelms me with our inability to listen to each other and try to understand another side of the story.

However, the nightly news isn't the only thing bringing me to tears. We recently had a World War II ship docked at the riverfront of Chattanooga. I drove by it everyday while it was here. The final morning, the ship casted off and all the men on board saluted those that had come to watch. So many of the people saying good-bye saluted back, and I cried. I've come to realize how much our military has given for us, how their families worry about their safety and how their commitment to their cause is amazing. I respect that and it moves me and so I cry.

I cry after my boys have been tucked in and they have said unprompted "I love yous" and cuddled up in my lap. I cry because I know these days are fleeting and having this crazy emotion somehow helps to solidify memories into my mind.

I cry when I think about my parents, how they've loved me so well. How their lives have changed in this last year and that we are not able to be together during this holiday season. It makes me said that while everyone else's life has gone on, we still spend our days fragmented. I will cry the day I get to hug my dad in person again, without having to talk to him through a brick wall and window. I will cry when I get to see him hold his grandboys and they get to talk his ear off and he won't be able to hear or understand most of it because his hearing is going. But those will be happy tears and maybe they won't show on my face, but my heart will be crying.

This liquid emotion seeps out as I get frustrated for the one-billionth time with being a parent. These little children sure do know how to push every button that sends me off the deep end and yet I am the one responsible for their well-being, their up-bringing, and teaching them right from wrong. So I think I cry with the torment of feeling like I'm not living up to the expectation of parenthood, whatever that is, and realizing that some days surviving is the only option. And ultimately, they are my hope and joy and I would give my life (and possibly my sanity) to make sure they go through this world knowing they are loved by me and a God who has given us an everlasting love.

I really have become an emotional basket case. And I really don't think it's a sign of weakness or wimpy-ness. I think it shows a new connect with this world. It shows that where I could be selfish and ignorant before, God's marvelous grace has penetrated my life and I cannot help but see that others deserve some of that grace too. I will now cry at Lifetime movies, movies about parents and children, love stories, commercials, and newspaper articles. It is not my crazy woman hormones, but instead, I see it as a victory because my emotional outburst show that I have not given up on this life. I am so emotionally attached to the human life and condition, that I cannot help but shed a tear during the happiness and the grief. I hope that as I learn more about our Creator's heart for his nations, that my emotions would reflect His. And that my little confession would allow some of you to know that a good, ugly cry once in a while is good for the soul!