two birthdays at once!

i'm sitting here in the living room on the largest couch ever, staring at a 6-foot Christmas tree plastered with all the decorations we could get from Goodwill, with strings of lights around the walls that just take this experience to a whole new magical level.

i know people are "supposed" to wait until after Thanksgiving before it's proper to play Christmas music or decorate, but this is plenty close enough for me.  my roomie has friends over to help decorate anyway, so now that the hard work is done we are watching our favorite Christmas flick- Elf.  yup. it's okay to be jealous.

i'm not usually too much into holidays, but there really is something about Christmas. i've heard all about how Jesus couldn't possibly have been born in December, and how the Wise Men couldn't possibly have made it until Jesus was 2 year old and back at home (although i heard the theory that they had a head start and actually were at the stable in Bethlehem. either way, i'm easy), but however the whole thing went down, the point is that- it went down.  it actually happened.  a larger-than-time Being somehow became a human, broke through time and space and landed in the middle of nowhere surrounded by an entire nation of people worn out after 400 years of oppression and spiritual darkness.  Christmas set off  the hugest thing to ever happen to earth.  all so that we could do what we were meant to do- give God the glory He deserves through the relationship soon to be restored.

now that's the kind of birthday that you celebrate every chance you get, even weeks in advance.  if Hobby Lobby can keep their ornaments out on shelves since July, then if we made it almost to Thanksgiving before Elf, i think we're doing pretty well.

now, this year- today in particular- i'm a bit more sentimental towards birthdays, mostly because His birthday is the only reason i'm celebrating my own birthday today as well.

it's been 5 years.  not everybody gets to turn 5 twice, and even fewer remember when they did- either time.  i've got a lot of memories that i'd be okay with not ever remembering, but there's one at least that i hope to hold on to forever.  forever and ever, if i can help it.  it's the one good memory that blots out the others i don't need.  after so many years of struggle and doubt and debate and confusion that were all pointing me straight to my own grave, there were a handful of faithful friends who fought back, quite valiantly, because i wasn't really able to fight.  i was a bit useless, i must say, so i'm glad i was surrounded by people who had all their spiritual armor on. 

so every year, this day in particular, i like to just chill.  and remember.  and say thank you. to the friends, to the family, to the church, all of whom God used to work out a plan as huge on the personal level as the first Christmas was on a world-wide level.  He rocked my world that day, and i just think it's awesome how so many others were able to share in it. so:

To FBCJ (in particular) but my whole Church family (in general):

it's been 5 years since a scared hopeless little lamb  entered the Fold and accidentally became a member of FBCJ. not once have i ever regretted that- there were just other things on my mind that day ;)

this Thanksgiving season, there's not much i'm more thankful for than my church family.  i've been given a biological family, a work family, and a church family, and am blessed to have some people a part of more than one of them. the FBCJ crew is the local subset of a much larger group who are included in my thanks, my memories, my thoughts.

to reiterate what the pastor and several others said last week,

thank you.

thank you for being the ones who listened, prayed, cried, spoke.

thank you for sharing your lives, thoughts, families, Cubbies, food, homes, time, love.

thank you for opening your arms, your doors, your hearts.

for being there when no one else was,

for walking beside me when i couldn't stand

for praying when i had no more words to say,

for always, always, always pointing straight to the Cross

for showing me the Jesus i'd heard of but never seen before, and

and for continuing to do so ever since. 

the end :)

"i can't today"

i told myself "i can't today.

i'm stuffed with burger and ice cream sundae.

i don't have the strength; i'm not in the mood

to run in a gym full of gross sweaty dudes.

one more piece of my life just withered away,

crying 'cause i don't even know how to pray."

the frigid trip there is at least half of the pain-

if you've done it before, you can do it again.

all the old rules, of course, still apply:

you keep on running til you can no longer cry.

plug in the iPod, let the songs be your prayer.

whip out the sweat rag, pull back the hair.

chase your reflection each tenth of a mile,

every step, every breath one more reason to smile.

the sweat  and the tears soon you can't tell apart,

and you feel the shirt vibrate as fast as your heart.

let go of the cares-they're just weighing you down.

ignore the hair frizz, that undignified crown.

don't stop to assess, take a break or a drink.

there's more in you than you could hope, wish or think.

find it and haul it out- put it to use.

it's oh-so-much stronger than Gatorade juice.

the Spirit that prays when you can't on your own

is the one who won't ever just leave you alone;

He holds you together and gives your feet wings,

who looks down from heaven and over us sings.

we've all got our "treadmill" that laughs in our face

when we're fresh out of strength, patience, hope, faith and grace.

whatever the trial, no matter its size,

the victory's coming- run after the prize.

if you've told yourself you "just can't" today,

get up on the treadmill now anyway.

i'm 1000% sure you'll be totally okay-

and you might accidentally run a 5K :)

sticks and stones and dead men's bones

I love those moments when a thought just pops up, a question just burns in your brain, or a revelation suddenly arises that makes you smile.  these moments, for me anyway, are rare, which i guess is part of why they're so special.

good glory, i hope this makes sense to whoever reads it.

I was considering again moments from my past and how in so many ways, for so many years i was nothing more than a modern-day Pharisee.  my early life revolved around following rules, codes, standards and policies that would make any Saul of Tarsus proud.  we would have had to add a whole second row of tassels on our robes, and heaven forbid we not tithe every single penny we received from our weekly allowance, which when we were 5 years old, was 25 cents.  so we were also good at math- which is a given (i forget which tab "homeschool" fits under- i think either "standards" or "codes"- but included was the Thou Shalt Succeed decree.  failure was not an option). we were filled with guilt if we forgot to tithe, do our morning devotions (because to do it in the evenings, or even after breakfast was classified as "wrong"), or even have too much Apple Cinnamon Cheerios with our plain Cheerios.  like the front-row Pharisees of old, we were generally applauded by peers and looked up to in our teeny tiny Christian community as being role-models. 

and also like the front-row Pharisees of old, i was even more tangled than those tassels, caught up in the little things but missing the big picture.  missing it entirely.  everything good about the Gospel buried under the rulebooks. plagued by doubt, fear of failure, shame, the need to please others, justification through the Law of Moses.  and the Law of Mom.  i'm not even sure which one i held in higher regard, to be honest.

so, just like the front-row Pharisees, i turned into a blind and bitter "Christian," with no answers for the situations i was trying to fix but couldn't.

in one of the last discourses Jesus gave in Jerusalem, in that last week before his impending execution, Jesus suddenly goes off on those front-row Pharisees, ripping to shreds their rules, codes, standards and policies.  he calls them children of hell.  a brood of vipers. hypocrites. blind guides. 

whitewashed tombs. absolutely stunning on the outside, gorgeous rocks, gardens, plants, probably markers or nameplates to remember their loved ones locked away inside.  on the inside, well, there are the loved ones' bones.  corruption. decay.  germs galore. a stench to turn even this nurse's stomach.

…

umm.  yeah.  Jesus said that. to the front-row, super-spiritual religious elites.  a tomb. a pretty vessel chock full of DEATH.

you're probably looking for the encouraging part now, right?  good- here it is.

i just went back and confirmed the timing on this speech of his, and when i flipped back and forth a couple times between Matthew 23 and John 10 and 11, you see something pretty cool.

immediately before the Triumphant Entry, something absolutely epic happens.

he receives word that one of his best friends in the town of Bethany (2 miles away from Jerusalem, and one of Jesus' stopping points) in on his deathbed and Jesus' healing is required immediately. 

so Jesus….doesn't go.  he waits. for 2 whole days.

Lazarus, unknown to the messenger, is probably already dead before Jesus hears of this, because by the time Jesus shows up the mourning is in full swing and the body has already been cleaned, prepared and locked in the grave for 4 days.

Lazarus's sisters, Mary and Martha, both have separate conversations with Jesus on his arrival.  Jesus asks to see Lazarus's body, and Mary, full of grief, confusion, impeccable common sense, says, "Eww. Jesus, that's gross."

Martha had already run out to meet him, and also to question why he refused to come earlier to save them from this incredible pain. 

Jesus then takes this fantastic opportunity to boot her faith up several levels and tells her :

"your brother will rise again."

Martha said to him, "i know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day."

Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die."(John 11: 23-27)

then He walks right up to that beautiful tomb full of a dead man's bones, convinces several hesitant guys to roll the stone away, and then demands that those dead man's bones get up and walk on out.  and they do. 

the Resurrection had come.

a short amount of time later, that Resurrection was in the Jews' religious center- Jerusalem, speaking to a synagogue's worth of tombs, calling them what they were, angry at their sin, condemning it, calling it out.

but just as importantly, offering life to any of those dead bones who would step out and receive it.  

He's shouting out: HEY!! you're DEAD!  but true life is LITERALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!

i have very little doubt that many of those Pharisees hearing that speech hadn't heard about Lazarus.  a bunch of them were likely there at the tomb and had witnessed firsthand what happens when Jesus gets too close to graves and talks to them.  those who weren't there, were told immediately by those who were (John 11:45-47).  the whole episode at Lazarus' re-birthday was meant to bring the spiritually dead to a new spiritual life, just as his speech to them in Jerusalem days later, with this miracle fresh in their minds. 

i remember that day when, -after months of wrestling together through these incredibly difficult issues and circumstances surrounding me, shedding tears and prayers, talking and listening- my pastor and i had reached a point where he called my salvation into question, citing as proof the guilt, anger, self-righteousness and pride that had become so evident.  and i suddenly, immediately felt the immense burden of sin- MY sin- that i'd never realized before.   i looked down that night at my shaking hands wringing out another tissue and envisioned the blood dripping off them, the spiritual death i'd caused, how far i had strayed.  how much sin could be covered up and made to look oh-so-spiritual.  how the mask of religious piety was nothing more than a death mask, hiding the corpse of a soul lurking underneath.  i was a whitewashed tomb, choking on all the crud that filled me up.

but that calling-out wasn't just a judgment.  it was an invitation. this tomb's bones were finally ready to be introduced to the Resurrection and to be summoned from the depths of the grave, out into the light.  i knew the theology and was kinda ticked by Jesus' timing, just like Martha.  i had so many questions i wanted answers to, just like Mary. i had a stone-cold heart and eyes blinder than a bat, just like a Pharisee. 

but the Resurrection had come.  to me.  called me by name.  and i changed from a Pharisee, a Saul, a tomb, into a Lazarus, a Mary, a Martha with eyes opened now to a whole new life.

cool things happen when Jesus talks to rocks. and if there are any other front-row Pharisees out there, i hope you hear him calling you out of your tombstone, too.

your Resurrection is here.  it's calling.  are you going to remain inside your whitewashed tomb or are you going to step out when you hear your Resurrection and Life beckoning you?