The Gift Was Simply Divine!

Do you ever review gifts you’ve received in previous years? It’s a wonderful exercise. I’ve recently used some tools received for Christmas, and remembered how they looked when they were new – and how useful they’ve been all along. I’ve also been thinking this week about the Gift —with a capital G— in the person and work of His Son, Jesus.

This isn’t an exhaustive list by any means, but the gift of His son was QUITE the gift!

• If you have the Son, you have LIFE! 1 John 5.12, John 3.16

• Those who have received Him have the ability to call themselves “sons of God” John 1.12

• He’s given us peace. HIS peace. John 14.27

• Friendship. Not just any ol’ friendship, this is friendship with God! John 15.14-17

• Life, in all it’s fullness. John 10.10 (NLT)

• His Spirit, living within. 2 Cor. 1.22, 5.5

• Himself. One word, but what a gift! Titus 2.14

Talk about a gift that’s “simply divine”!
Jesus was —and is— precisely that!

I am one grateful man this Christmas, and God’s generosity is the reason.

Selah —

The Gift He Wants Most

It’s the day before Christmas.

Some are smiling to themselves, their shopping completed early, the pressure’s off.
Some are smiling relieved smiles –almost– just one or two more gifts to find, and we’re good to go.
Some – well for some it’s cram-time. Like when final exams sneak up on you and you’re not ready. Not at all. (I remember one final exam in Music Theory. Our professor prayed before the exam, something about blessing us in accordance to how we’ve studied. After his “Amen” my friend Dave (he comments here on occasion) turned around, raised his eyebrows and said “I don’t know about you, but that prayer just ruined my grade.” )

I enjoy the gift-giving aspect of Christmas. I especially enjoy seeing that look that says “this is perfect!” when someone opens a gift. I smile when I hear their excited “I love it! Where did you find this?!!” It’s nice to receive, too, but not so much as give. My favorite gifts of all at Christmas are the ones that weren’t on anyone’s list. The things that simply say “I was thinking about you, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like this.” They’re the best.

It would be a good idea, though, to not overlook the One Whose birthday it is. Can you imagine? Going to a party and everybody exchanging presents and gift bags while the guest of honor looks on in bewilderment and disbelief? It happens every Christmas. The little Lord Jesus, Who’s also the King of Kings and Lord of Lords must wonder sometimes, “Did you forget something? Did you forget on purpose? or did you just get caught up in the activity? are you truly that selfish?” (some of us are.)

What does He want, do you suppose? It might be an interesting study to scan the New Testament this Christmas season, looking for things He said He would like, or wants from his followers. There’s plenty to be found in the Gospels alone, the first four books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I believe Christina Rossetti summed it all up better than anyone, in her carol In the Bleak Mid-winter. You’ve sung it perhaps, or heard it on the radio this season. The words are simple and profound:

What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man
I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give him -
Give my heart.

Words, Christina Rossetti. Music, Harold Darke. Publ. by Stainer & Bell

Read those lines again. (You have time.)  What can I give, him, poor as I am? …

Shepherds were at one end of the socio-economic spectrum, the magi at the other, and you and I are somewhere in between.
What does God incarnate want from us? What would he like most from you and me?
Our hearts. Yours. Mine. Everyone’s.

That’s easier to say than to do, however. It’s vitally important that we each, individually believe on Him once. It’s the fulcrum on which eternity’s teeter totter pivots. Jesus, I believe You came for me. I believe that. I place my confidence in You; in what You came to do – and did – dying for my sin.

Just as important, and perhaps more difficult, is believing on him day after day – after day. Living-out that trust, giving Him our very hearts, and as importantly, not taking them back. That’s where I’ve gotten myself in trouble, maybe you have too. But when I –when we– say “Savior, I believe You know what’s best for me. I really do. So I’m going to learn what you love and do that more, learn what you hate and do that less or not at all. You died for me. I want to live for you. Will You help me do that? Here’s my heart. Take it. It’s all Yours.”

What can I give Him?

My heart. That is the gift He wants most.
And the smile on His face is what I want to see most.

Merry Christmas, everyone,
Live in the light of His love this season.

Good-bye Tungsten, Dear Friend

People thought I was nuts when I bought my second Palm PDA eight years ago. Or if not crazy, a bit fiscally irresponsible at best. It was expensive for its day. My first PDA was definitely a starter Palm, but the Tungsten W was one of the earliest smart-phones (though they hadn’t yet begun to call them smart-phones).

I grew from being infatuated with the thing to pretty much counting on it, to being lost without it. I’ve carried it in a leather case and affectionately refer to it as my leather-bound brain or my personal nagging device (it has permission). I’ve panicked when I’ve left it somewhere. One of the most traumatic was the day my father passed away. Mom had called and said I needed to come home – and hurry. I came off the airplane and scurried to pick up my rental car at the Albuquerque airport, stopping at a Target on the way to the house to replace a couple of items they’d taken from me at the airport (this was post 9-11). Somehow, in my haste, I left it in the shopping cart and didn’t realize I had until several miles down the road when I went to review the travel directions I’d stored there. Oh-no! I went back for it. It was that important. Thankfully, an honest soul had turned it in to the store Customer Service counter. I was relieved, to say the least. And that was but one of several anxiety-producing moments when I lost sight of my trusty PDA.

All the things PDAs are known for, this one does for me – or has until recently. After eight faithful years it’s gone senile. Monday I turned it on to check something and it was convinced it was still the day before Thanksgiving. It quit waking me up with its pleasant little chirp alarm several weeks ago. I can still ask it for information but I have to coddle it to do that. It’s easier to just check the computer — unless I’m away from home or am in the car and my notebook PC is in my briefcase behind the front seat. This PDA has been a trusted companion for eight straight years. Today – (if it was human I’d be tearing up right now) – today when I checked in on it, the display looked up at me then closed its eyes. Looked up again and then went black, almost like it was trying to answer me but didn’t have the energy. I just needed to look up the verse in Ephesians that mentioned “redeeming the time”. We had to shuffle down the corridor to find out.

Sooo, I yielded to the research I’ve been doing and ordered its replacement this morning. Communication technology has come a long way during this Tungsten’s lifetime, and the new one is lighter, faster, and it will bluetooth with my cell phone and notebook. I can imagine it feeling a bit antiquated, despite its faithfulness through the years. How many times has it wakened me in the morning? How many times has it prompted me to stop what I’m doing and leave for an appointment across town? Countless. But it’s unable to do those things anymore. It loses track of time and can barely hold its eyes open when I need something.

So it’s good-bye Tungsten, my dear friend. My you’ve been a great example of faithful service, rain or shine. Keeping track of me and all my information. You’ve even been my Bible in disguise. With two of my favorite versions at my fingertips you’ve been my sword in organizer clothing. Thank you.

What I should do, I suppose, is carefully wrap and place you in a box so my grandkids can someday see how big and bulky personal organizers were at the turn of the century. Seems almost wrong to say it that way, doesn’t it? But it’s true. Several months ago I came across the big seven-ring binder I carried my organizer in just twenty five years ago, and I smiled. The thing was huge. Simply huge, because I carried more than just a calendar in that binder. Lugging that much information around was one of the reasons I needed a PDA. It’s hard to imagine this one seeming cumbersome, but I bet compared to future devices, it will be.

I’m just glad God doesn’t look at me —at us— as expendable. Aren’t you?

Selah —

Reflection: “Just for Today”

After several days of burning the candle at both ends  (I always tackle new things that way) I determined to sit down tonight and read. Just read. Not for a project, not to find out something, or search for an answer — just read.

I picked up a volume passed on to me from Dad’s library entitled Dale Carnegie’s Scrapbook.  Carnegie was an avid collector of thoughts and quips, and while he used quotes sparingly in his writings, he loved the idea of using someone else’s words to help him say something in conversation.  This book was compiled after his death by his wife, Dorothy Carnegie.   I found something on page 80 that’s worth some thought.   It’s a lengthy quote from the pen of Sybyl F. Partridge, who wrote poems and hymns in the early 20th century but didn’t want her real name known until after she was gone.  She went simply by S.M.X.   (You can explore if you want to know what S.M.X. stands for, it’s out there)

At any rate, these are thought provoking and encouraging paragraphs, especially in a month when things fly by, in a year nearly gone, and in the couple weeks prior to a new one beginning.

Read -

Ponder -

and Enjoy -

“Just For Today”

“Just for today I will be happy. This assumes that what Abraham Lincoln said is true, that “most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” Happiness is from within; it is not a matter of externals.

Just for today I will try to adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my family, my business, and my luck as they come and fit myself to them.

Just for today I will take care of my body. I will exercise it, care for it, nourish it, not abuse it nor neglect it, so that it will be a perfect machine for my bidding.

Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.

Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways; I will do somebody a good turn and not get found out. I will do at least two things I don’t want to do, as William James suggests, just for exercise.

Just for today I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress as becomingly as possible, talk low, act courteously, be liberal with praise, criticize not at all, nor find fault with anything and not try to regulate nor improve anyone.

Just for today I will try to live through this day only, not to tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do things for twelve hours that would appall me if I had to keep them up for a lifetime.

Just for today I will have a program. I will write down what I expect to do every hour. I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. It will eliminate two pests, hurrying and indecision.

Just for today I will have a quiet half-hour all by myself and relax. In this half-hour sometimes I will think of God, so as to get a little more perspective into my life.

Just for today I will be unafraid, especially I will not be afraid to be happy, to enjoy what is beautiful, to love, and to believe that those I love, love me.”

A Christmas Resolution

It hardly seems possible that in just a few days we’re going to be thinking about our New Year’s Resolutions and trying to come up with things we can actually sustain an entire year. This morning I’m thinking about my Christmas Resolution. Fifteen days? I can do this. My resolution is simple, that helps:

I resolve to stop and enjoy this season’s quiet moments, even help create a few.

A colleague and I were observing the other day that EVERYbody wants you at Christmastime. The office wants you there for it’s annual party. We agreed it’s usually a good idea to go, especially if that’s when they hand out annual bonuses. But the kids’ schools want you there for concerts and programs, the neighbors do, church wants and needs you, and so does family. Sometimes both sides of the family tree want you — how often does THAT happen?! Only at Christmas, it seems.

Quiet moments temporarily find themselves an endangered species during the frenetic Christmas season. It takes a bit of work and a good helping of resolve, but quite moments can be found, even created through this busy season.

I need quiet moments, maybe you do too, to give myself time to reflect on the wonder of God’s love reflected in the priceless gift of His only Son. Quiet moments heighten my sense of gratitude; give me pause to thank Him for the blessings God has showered on my family and me. Quiet memories let me remember, which causes me to be thankful, which in turn brings a reflective smile.

There are a couple verses in the Christmas story we read every year that reminds me how important this is.

But Mary tresured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2.19

“Pondering” is usually best-done in calm and quiet, wouldn’t you agree? After the account of their trip to Jerusalem when Jesus was twelve, and His profound words (Remember, Mary knew exactly Who her Son was) Luke uses a similar phrase.

Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart. Luke 2.51

I have a few favorite calm-inducers through the Christmas season. Perhaps these will help you (they’re free, so help yourself) or spark your thinking for things you can do that are uniquely you.

• Arrive early enough at church to sit and enjoy the prelude. Listen more, talk less through the Christmas season.
• When it snows —if it snows where you are— stop and watch it a few minutes. Ponder phrases like “White as Snow”, “Each flake is unique”, “Beauty” and “Safe and Warm”.
• Look at the center of the Christmas tree and remember the other tree, the cross of Calvary, which is why Jesus came in the first place.
• Hot cocoa or hot chocolate. Have a cup WITH marshmallows, and drink it slowly enough the marshmallows have melted before you finish.
• Watch a favorite movie. We have a tradition at our house. Right after Thanksgiving we put up the tree while we watch White Christmas and sing along with the songs. It’s a great time to remember previous years, enjoy family laughter and music. We usually finish before the movie is done, so we have something warm to drink and sit down to watch the ending together. Some years it’s taken more resolve than others to slow down long enough to enjoy the moment. It’s always worth it, though. Always.
• Give yourself permission to not do everything, not accept every invitation, not feel obligated to the “whole-wide-world”. It feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it? Give yourself permission not to. Carve out a little quiet.

Christmas 2007 has lots of good reasons for me to skip the quiet and rush pell-mell-tumble-bumble through the season. But I’m not going to. I’m resolved to take select moments and turn them quiet.

It just occurred to me – this post is one of those, written over juice and coffee early on a Sunday morning while the house is still quiet. Not even the Christmas tree lights are on. As I’ve written I’ve also silently rehearsed how God is blessing my family, how much He loves, how He enjoys when His children walk close to Him, His grace and generosity. The quiet of this morning has brought those things front and  center in my thinking and my to-do list is temporarily offstage.

All is calm.

There’s a dusting of fresh snow over everything this morning. I’ll have to clear the walks and drive before we go to church. But not yet. I’m going to enjoy its pristine beauty a while longer.

I’m thankful.

Quiet helps that happen for me. And that’s why I’m resolved this Christmas to make room for the quiet. It’s too valuable to let it slip away.

Selah—