Christmas Sunday at the Beach

Early this morning as the sun rose, I stepped into the half light of the apartment where we were staying.  

I turned on the coffee pot and walked over to the sliding glass door and gazed at the beauty outside. When the coffee finished brewing, I poured myself a cup and added some cream from the refrigerator. Then, with the coffee cup warming my hands, I walked the few paces to the couch and sat down. I picked up the lighter and slowly lit the advent wreath, giving thanks to God for His unspeakable gift - a gift I needed far more than anything someone on earth could give me.  I breathed a prayer as I lit each candle.  "Thank You, God, that You became flesh and took on the form of a man so that I could know about You.  Thank You that You are Immanuel - God with us.  Thank You that You knew what I needed most this Christmas and every Christmas - a Savior.  Thank You for Your gifts of hope, peace, joy and love."  When I finished lighting the wreath, I nestled my body into the cushions of the couch and began to read from Galatians, "But when the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son . . ."  I read on, once again touched by God's gift to us.

Every Christmas no matter where I am in the world, this is the way I love to start the day - lighting the advent wreath and then with coffee warming my hands and the Bible and prayer warming my heart, I give this day to the Lord.  But today we were in Florida, so after a few minutes on the couch, I slipped out to the balcony where I could watch the sun rise over the distant ocean.  A cool breeze stirred the palm trees and a fountain rippled the water in a pool below the balcony.  I marveled at the beauty around me.  Imagine, I thought, that the God who made all of this became one of His own creatures - a man.  The God who is so powerful that He spoke this world into existence became powerless - a baby who needed His mother for nourishment to sustain him.

After reading a while and praying, my coffee cup was empty and it was time to head back in.  Just then Charlie came out.  "Merry Christmas," he said to me and lightly kissed my cheek.  "Merry Christmas, " I replied.  He stood for a minute behind my chair and joined me in admiring God's creation of this new day.  Then we headed back in so that I could make breakfast.

Usually on Sunday mornings, I put on worship music while I am preparing breakfast, but I had forgotten to bring along any CD's on this trip.  Instead, I hummed, "O come let us adore Him" as I worked.  How glad I was that this Christmas fell on a Sunday.  It seemed especially appropriate to me to gather with other believers on this, His birthday.  Even though we would be visitors in church that morning in a church where we had never gone, it would be good to sing His praises together with other believers and read His Word with them.  

After breakfast and getting ready we headed out.  On the way to church, Charlie found a radio station playing Christmas carols and we listened and occasionally sang along.  When we arrived, we were greeted by several people and found our seats.  Before long the choir filed into the choir loft.  "A small choir this morning," a voice said behind us.  When the first notes of "Emmanuel" were sung, I breathed a sign of thanksgiving.  "Thank you, Lord," I prayed, "for good music and for believers with whom to celebrate You on this, Your birthday.  I have never met these people before, and yet they are some of the ones with whom I will spend eternity.  How appropriate that I meet more of Your children on Your birthday."  

The rest of the day included dinner with my sister's family, walks on the beach, watching the sun set over the ocean, and taking a drive after dark to look for Christmas lights.  It was a good day.  As I settled into bed that night, I thanked the Lord.  


"Thank You, Lord, for today," I prayed.  "It was a lovely day.  I really enjoy it when I get to be with Your people on Christmas Day, even when I don't know them."

Then I thought, "Lord, did You have a good day today?  We say Christmas is the day we celebrate the day You were born, so did You have a good day?  I hope so.  I hope that all of the worship that was lifted to You by Your children today made it a good day for You.  I know You are outside of our time zones and You don't experience days like we do, but You came into our world on this day many years ago, so You know what I am talking about.  Next year, when Christmas falls on a Monday and it is unlikely that I will attend a church service that day, then help me to be as conscious with my worship of You as I was today.  Help me to make sure that YOU are the One that I am honoring on that day.  Help me to make it a day that is pleasing to You.  Amen."  

A Church's Gift

Every church is different.  Some are friendly, and no newcomer leaves feeling unwelcome.  Some are reverent, and a quiet awe pervades the worship services.  Some are joyful and exuberant as they lift their praises to the Lord.  Some are evangelistic, and they are excited about sharing their faith with friends and co-workers, and they revel in their own salvation.  Some are prayerful, and prayer meetings are well attended and considered to be one of the most important aspects of the week.  Some are seen as theologically deep or mature, and their pastors and teachers enjoy going deep into the Word of God.  Some are missions minded, and their reputation for giving to missions is noticed even by visitors.

One of the families that fed us.

On this trip, we found something in this Cochabamba church that we have seldom seen.  We found a church with the gift of hospitality.  In all of the trips we have taken, both in the U.S. and abroad, we have not
been welcomed into people's homes and lives the way we were here.  Every day, for both lunch and supper, we were fed by the people of this church.

When I mentioned this to Jacky, the pastor's wife, she said to me, "Well, we know the verse in Hebrews that says "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."

"That's true," I replied.  "But you know us and you know that we are not angels.  We are just people."

She laughed and agreed.  Yet somehow this group of people really took the gift of hospitality to the maximum and made us feel so loved and welcomed.  As we joined them at their dinner tables and heard the stories of their lives, it made us feel so much more a part of them.  Some felt unable to have us into their homes, but they showed hospitality to us by taking us out to dinner.  There, too, we heard their stories of faith and family and came to love and appreciate them.

Pique Macho

"What is the typical food here?" we asked when we arrived.

"Oh, Cochabamba has many foods.  We do not have just one."

So through the weeks we were there, the church tried to make sure that we tried many of their typical foods: Pique, Silpancho, Api, Charque, Pollo a la Brasa, Steak, and so much more.  They checked with each other to find out what we had already had so that they could let us try something new.  On our last day there, we were invited to join the college-age young people at a steak house and were able to get to know some of them. 

The church gave us some mementos as going-away gifts, but to be honest, the best gift they gave us during our time there was themselves through the gift of hospitality.  Through that, our hearts were bound to them.  We understand those families better and have an appreciation for their lives.  Had they not chose to share their lives with us in this way, we would not have gotten to know them nearly as well.  As a result, we found we did not want to leave because they had become so precious to us.

We look forward to going back.  Perhaps next time we will be able, in some way, to extend hospitality to them as well.

Counting to Ten on Thanksgiving Day

 

On this beautiful day of Thanksgiving, I stop to count some of the sweet blessings that God has given through the years.  These are broad, sweeping statements.  Perhaps later I will add some more specific ones, but these are huge blessings in my life that I never want to forget.

1. God saved me.  On a hot, sunny day in Indonesia as a five-year-old child, God showed me the enormity of my sin and my need of a Savior.  My mother led me in a simple prayer and my life forever changed.  Today my heart overflows with the joy of knowing I am loved and safe with God.
2. Sixteen years ago God gave me a wonderful, godly husband.  I had to wait a long time to find him.  I let other opportunities for marriage go by as I waited for this man that I hoped existed and who was the other half of me.  Today I give thanks for his godly leadership, his thoughtful intelligence, and his Christ-like love for me.
3. God gave me godly parents.  Throughout my life, I have witnessed firsthand their faith and commitment to God.  They have been faithful witnesses to me of what it means to trust and follow God.  Today I give thanks that at 89 years of age, they are still part of my life.   
4. The Bible.  What a precious book.  Everyday when I open its pages, I marvel again how it speaks to me afresh.  Today I found plenty of passages that gave me words of thanksgiving to fill my heart with praise.
5. Church.  Whether I am talking about our church in Georgia, the church my husband pastored in Maine, or the many other churches where I worshiped and worked through the years, I am so grateful for the role of the church in my life.  The teaching I have received there and the fellowship of the believers have been a help in hard times and a way to celebrate the good times.  Church has helped me grow and made me of more service to God than I ever would have been alone.
6. Health.  I know of so many people my age who are struggling with physical issues.  How thankful I am for good health. As I get older, I am getting glimpses of the fact that my body may not always be healthy, so I am doubly thankful for health today.
7. Beauty.  We live in a beautiful world.  I sometimes wonder how heaven could possibly be any better than this, but I am convinced that it is.
8. The gift of sight.  Every time I stop of admire the color of a fresh flower, the sparkling of dew on the grass, the arch of a double rainbow in the sky, or the glow of autumn leaves in the morning sunlight, I marvel that God would give me eyes to see such beauty.  Along with that gift, I am also giving thanks today for eyeglasses.  I see more clearly with them and appreciate God’s beauty more with them.
9. Music.  Right now the sound of a professional choir singing “We Gather Together” is filtering up the stairs and into the room where I write.  My heart soars in praise when I hear beautiful music, whether it is the sound of a pipe organ that leads a congregation in song, a cello playing “It Is Well” or a child’s voice singing “Jesus loves me.”  Today music helps me lift my heart in praise in a way that a world without music could not.
10. The gift of hearing.  As I get older, my hearing is not nearly as good as it used to be.  I notice it when a mosquito has to get close to me for me to hear it rather than hearing it across the room the way I did when I was younger.  Still, I am amazed that God would let me hear the beautiful and no-so-beautiful sounds around me.  Our hearing helps protect us from danger as well as letting us enjoy so much – the singing of birds, the patter of rain, and the thundering of the waterfall.
    
    Thanksgiving Day sounds are all around me.  I hear a knife on wood as someone cuts vegetables in the kitchen.  A full choir sings through computer speakers.  Footsteps sound in the hallway.  Muted conversations drift through the open door.  Dishes clatter.  The oven door squeaks open and then closed.  A door shuts.  The clock ticks.  A cell phone announces an incoming message.  Cars whisper by on the road outside.  All in all, they remind me that a family has gathered to feast and thank the Lord for His blessings.
    
    Thank you, Lord, for hearing.

And so I have counted to ten.  To be honest, this is only a start.  My blessings, should I count them all, would number in the thousands.

Finding Buried Treasure

The disaster zone

Our house was a disaster area.  Boxes were stacked upon boxes.  Only a pathway allowed us to move from one room to another as we tried to figure out where to put things.  As we unpacked, a box, the mess grew.

These days I sometimes felt like a treasure hunter.  The next discovery was just around the next bend, or in our case, in the next box.  After four years of having things in storage, each held mysteries yet to be discovered. 

Some treasures I expected to find.  I remembered the dishes and kitchen appliances, though I didn’t remember that we no longer had a toaster.  I also was not expecting our coffee maker to die within a couple weeks of unpacking it, but I guess four years in storage was not necessarily good for it.  I remembered most of the clothing that has been in storage during this time.  (One of the dresses I’ve already given away since I didn’t need it all this time.  Others will probably follow.)  I thought I remembered the paintings, furniture, and other wall decorations.  But occasionally, in the midst of all the things I remembered, I found something that was a lost treasure – something I’d forgotten we had.

Here are the pictures of some of those things.

This piece of furniture was the biggest surprise.  I thought I remembered all of the furniture we had.  Before we went up north to collect our things, I figured out where every piece would go.  Then we unpacked this.  This was a piece Charlie’s father built, so I wanted to keep it.  But where would it go?  We found a place for it, but the dining room is now more crowded than I would have liked. 

Then there were these pieces I bought while working at Lenox.  They’ve found a home on the bookcase in the office.


But then there were these precious pieces I’d forgotten we had, made for us by different families in our church.  These hold special memories for us, especially now that we don’t get to see these dear people very often.
                 
There were books I was delighted to find and others I’d forgotten I have.  Then there are also some books I thought I had that I haven’t found.  With all the books we have, I suppose that’s not a surprise.  This year I plan to keep track of the books I actually use so that I can get rid of some to allow for some different ones.  We really do not have room to add any more bookcases.

I found photos and memorabilia that I have not seen in a long time.  There were even some clothes that I now think I no longer need since I haven’t needed them for four years. 

In the midst of all the discoveries, we occasionally found something that was ruined.  It was during those times that I had to smile.  While I have referred to these things we own as buried treasure, they really are not.  Not even close.  They are just things that rust and moth destroy and thieves may try to steal.

I know where my real buried treasure is. It will have to wait a long time before I will be able to uncover it, but I know that it is safe.  These things that we have uncovered and put into our house help us live life here on earth.  Hopefully, they are also a benefit to us doing ministry while we are here.  In the long run, though, they do not matter.  They are just things.  What matters are the precious people we work with and the souls that God has saved.  They are our true treasure. 

On Choosing a Church

We sat quietly, reading the menu.  Everything sounded so delicious.  It was hard to choose.  But soon our choices were made and our orders spoken to the waiter.  He filled our water glasses and left, and we began to talk.

Almost fifteen years had passed since I first met her.  Although I could tell she was older, she had the same energy and sparkle that endeared me to her then.  We had kept in touch, but almost ten years had passed since that cool spring day when we joined her for a conference at her church.  That was the last time we saw her.  Now she had a dear husband by her side.

By the time the steaming plates of food arrived, we had compared notes on others that had formed our circle of friends fifteen years ago.  Now we moved on to contemporary news.  We filled them in on our ministry.  They filled us in on their work and family. We knew they were not attending the same church where we had last seen her, so we asked her about that change.

“I love my old church,” she explained, “but they have so many talented people there.  They didn’t really need me.  Our little church needs more people who will serve.  We are very happy to be able to serve there.” 
After extended conversation, our hearts were full and so were our bellies. We promised to stay in touch and went our separate ways.

Since that conversation, I have been thinking more about her comments.  One of the things Charlie and I love about small churches is that there is no such thing as unemployment.  Everyone’s hands and gifts are needed.  No one slips in unnoticed or leaves without a greeting.  There is a need and a place for everyone. 

It is all too easy to choose a church the way we choose our an item off a menu.

• This one appeals to my tastes.  
• This one looks better to me. 
• I had something like this before, and I didn’t like it. 
• My friend says this one is really good.  

Instead of looking for the church that needs my service the most, we look for a church that will serve me the best.

Large churches have taken a major place in America, and I’m thankful for them. But every once in a while I wish that more of the talented people from those large churches would take our friend’s advice to spread out to help some of the smaller churches. She’s right.  The large churches don’t need more talented people, but the small ones really do.  If two or three more young families would join one of the small churches where we have been, maybe they would be able to do more to spread God’s good news to the neighborhood around them.

In Praise of My Household Servants

Sometimes as I fall asleep at night, I hear the maids still at work, their low humming or rhythmic beating continuing long after I’ve gotten in bed.

What?  Maids, you say?  You mean, you have maids?

Why yes, don’t you?

I have a bunch of them, so many in fact, that I don’t always remember their names.  Let’s see if I can remember them all now.  Those of you who know me will know which ones I’ve overlooked.
There’s the maid that hauls the water and heats it up for our baths.  We normally call her Faucet.  She’s very reliable, and she doesn’t even grumble when we ask her for water in the middle of the night to flush the commode.

There are two maids, Washer and Dryer, that share the work of doing the laundry.  They are fast.  I throw the laundry at them, and in a very short time they have it back to me.  Because they are so fast, they don’t work every day.  They are also the ones that often like to work at night after I’ve gone to bed.  I don’t mind if Washer keeps working, but Dryer has a celebratory screech she makes when she’s finished, so sometimes I ask her to wait until morning to finish her job.

In our last house, we even had one whose sole job was to do the dishes.  Granted, she wasn’t a fulltime maid, and she couldn’t do them as fast as I could, but her being on our household staff meant that I didn’t have to do that job. 

Then there is the old matron who caries messages for us. She can take any message, to nearly anyone, at any time, and in an instant. She has several children who she has trained in this service so she goes by Ma Bell.
We have other servants. There is the groundskeeper who can cut the grass so evenly, it’s amazing.  Sure, I have to walk around with him.  He is rather young so that unlike some of the other servants, he can’t do it without one of us there.  Still, his abilities are quite remarkable.  Thanks, Mower, for all the work you do.  Put a sickle in my hand and the lawn just wouldn’t look as nice.

Then there’s one that is absolutely amazing.  We call her Electricity.  She keeps the furnace going in the winter, fans us in Summer and stokes the cookstove.  She lights the lamps for us at night.  She winds the clocks and the music box.  She even is able to make the picture box light up to let us watch moving pictures.  She is so efficient that she often helps the other maids with their work.

We also have a stable master.  He keeps the horses fed, groomed and the carriage running smoothly.  All we have to do is head out the door, and there’s the carriage ready and waiting for us.  He hands over the reins, and off we go.  His name is Hyundai.

Then there’s the gardener and his family.  He’s no ordinary gardener.  He not only keeps the garden for us, but when his family harvests the vegetables, they goes to the trouble of cleaning them and sometimes even cutting them up, so that when I go to cook, all I have to do is throw them in the pan.  They take the wheat to the miller and bring it back already ground into flour for us.  Sometimes they even take the flour to the baker so that I don’t even have to bake the bread.  He takes our animals to the butcher and brings back the meat all packaged up and ready for us. His abilities are truly astounding.  Through trade and bartering, he can produce from his larder almost any fruit or vegetable; any meat, fish or fowl;  any grain, flour, bread or cake I desire, regardless of the season! His name is Hannaford.

Sometimes I can’t believe how blessed I am to have all these servants.  Not only do they work hard, they almost never complain.  They cost very little to feed, and they lighten my load so much.  

So today I give thanks for all the household help I have.  If I didn’t have all that help, I certainly wouldn’t be able to spend most of my day doing the other jobs I do.