Joy to the World (...catch that last word?)

My fingers have been itching to get to my keyboard since the holiday season began, but I've hesitated, not wanting to be a Scrooge during one of my favorite times of the year. I love it because of the traditions. I love holiday lights, I love the music, I love the reason to gather as a family and create new traditions that build memories for years to come. And, as a Christian, I love that we take time to celebrate the gift that was given to the world in the form of an infant, born so humbly, who would one day change the world (whether you believe him a diety or not, Jesus of Nazareth is THE most transforming figure in history).

The thing that has got me a bit perplexed is how on earth we have gone from cheerful holiday season, to drawing battle lines over the "Christmas" vs. "holiday" in our tidings. I have read one too many Facebook posts and seen one too many illustrations trying to either blend secular Santa with the Christian nativity or scold those who attempt the blend. It bothers me because the arguement itself goes against the very nature of the season. It puts a dividing line during a time a year that is meant to draw people together.

Here are the main points as I (and remember this is just my own silly opinion here) see them:

1. According to historians who have studied the Bible and related historical texts, there is pretty conclusive evidence that Jesus was NOT born in the month of December. Let's also remember that "December" didn't exist 2000+ years ago, so the arguement that December 25th somehow "belongs" to Jesus is rubbish. If you truely believe, then you realize that EVERY day belongs to God, so I doubt Jesus sits in heaven pouting over the secularization (is that a word?) of December 25th. It is not his birthday. It is the day we as modern Christians have chosen to celebrate it....




2. ...continuing from point number 1, digging into history will reveal the reason we modern Christians choose to celebrate at this time of year. Most historians believe that as early as 225AD Christians were choosing to celebrate the birth of Christ in December. They did so to align with a pagan tradition, thereby effectively snagging the date for Christ instead of a lesser God. Pretty smart move from an evangelical perspective. So now we Christians get huffy when other secular notions try to nudge in "our" day.




3. Don't forget about Hannukah when when adding in the Holiday cheer. Jews were around first. Even Jesus was a Jew. Their tradition has been around longer than ours. I'm not 100% on this next statement, but if the dates I've seen line, even Jesus may have celebrated it.--feel free to correct me if my dates are wrong.




4. Santa. Oh Santa. What is a Christian mom to do about about the jolly guy in the red suit? Well, this condundrum has been around less than 200 years the way we think about St. Nick. Festivals and observances of the generous Greek saint have been around since at least the middle ages, but Santa Claus as we know him today really picked up speed in the 19th century with American..wait for it...cartoonists. And in typical American melting pot fashion we have, over the last 200 years, mixed many country's celebrations into something that is pretty uniquely our own.




5. Politics. Our country will continue to attempt de-Christianize this country. If you think about it, that is even predicted in the Bible. When it comes to Christmas however, they can call it what they want. Holiday, Yule Tide celebration, festivities, whatever, at the end of the day you can't completely separate Christ, and definitely not God, from our celebrations this time of year. It is too rooted into our culture.

So, what am I concluding here? Not a thing. Just bringing up some points, but I'll tell you how I'm trying to handle this time of year.

Regardless of background, religion or culture, most everyone celebrates something at this time of the year. It's a GOOD thing. We are celebrating GOOD things. Togetherness, family, generosity. John 3:16 says that God so love the WORLD (as in this whole messed up, fractured place) that he gave His only son. Jesus was for everyone, and Christians, therefore, are supposed to be for everyone. Am I also called to speak truth and lead people from sin? Yes, but can't I do that through my actions? This is a built-in time of year to act like Jesus. Be kind, be giving, be sacrificial.

I will teach my children to remember His birth at Christmas. I will teach them about the wonder that is Christmas in its many forms. And I will remember that I am called to love people, all people, even if they don't love me. You may not celebrate Christmas my way. That's cool. I love you cause Jesus loves you, and he was born in a manager long ago for you whether you want to believe it or not.

I'm praying for everyone this holiday season, but my plea for Christians is to put our differences aside and use this time of year to show love and compassion, not separation. Teach your children; instead of letting the culture teach them. Say "Merry Christmas"; because it's what you believe in, but don't be offended if it isn't returned. Show people the love of Christ through your love of them. We can go back to being divided and hateful in January ;) kidding of course.

In dog years I'm 196

One question: When did I get old?

No, I’m serious, and don’t give me that I’m over 40 and you’re not speech. I feel old. I do things that 10 years ago would have been things OLD people do. Is it about to begin? That moment in time when otherwise normal women begin scrutinizing the mirror every morning for traces of gray, and spend more on anti-aging cream than they spend on food in a month? I’m not ready. I didn’t see this coming. It hit me like a bottle of cellulite-fighting lotion this morning at 11am.

I, Lauren King, at 28 years of age, have joined a book club.

Does joining a book automatically qualify you for AARP benefits? No, but as I looked at the recommended reading, a list started to form in my head that ends in the foregone conclusion that at some point in the last 5 years, I’ve gotten old. Still rolling your eyes? Read the list and be see for yourself.

• I own a Buick..and like it.
• Sleeping-in is rising at 7:30
• I actually fear I’ll turn into a pumpkin if I’m out past midnight
• I don’t understand popular music.
• I think the way young boys wear their hair is ridiculous
• My favorite channel is PBS
• I remember life before iPods
• I have “good old days”
• I am starting to sound like my mom
• My idea of a vacation is not moving from my couch for a full 24-hours
• At some point I stopped using words like “girls” and “women” and starting saying “ladies”
• I have a “ladies” group. We are not wearing red hats yet, but I fear we are dangerously close.
• I look at anyone under the age of 25 as a kid.
• I remember life without cell phones
• I wonder why people don’t “talk” to each other anymore
• I will always think of Barney from the show How I met Your Mother as Doogie Houser; no matter how lewd he gets on his new show.
• I use words like “lewd”, regularly.
• I remember when “going green” was something you only did when sea sick
• I remember life before kids…barely.
• I’ve lost any “sense of style” in favor of “sense of sale”.
• I’ve gone to a class on couponing…voluntarily
• I take issue when people talk in txt language “Hey, I’ll brb”….what?
• I own shoes that are older than my kids.
• I joined a book club.

So, add all those things up and I feel like I’ve earned my place among the Golden Girls. What? You didn’t understand my Golden Girls reference? You’ve proved my point.

Where Water Goes

Forgive and forget. Simple statement. I'd bet it's said a million times a day by a million different mouths. Easy to say, really, REALLY, hard to do. Why?

Often, when I think of forgiving I think about people in my life who have wronged me somehow. At some point I blame them for sending me off an emotional cliff; or in some cases a literal one. But forgiveness isn't reserved for the nasty people in your life. I think it's more difficult to forgive yourself. I mean where do you turn, who do you point the finger at, when you built the cliff yourself from your own well meaning, but perhaps unrealistic goals, or your past fears and regrets, and then you hit the accelerator that had you flying over it into a pit?

While talking about New Year's resolutions (breeding ground for eventual cliff building) in my Sunday School class, we read a verse from Philippians:

"Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, ¹⁴ I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Phil 13-14 (emphasis mine)

If anyone had a past that threatened to catch up with him it was Paul. Back in his Saul days, he was Public Enemy Number 1 for anyone who followed Christ. What Paul says though, is that he has to FORGET what is behind and move TOWARD what is ahead. Let the past go and keep moving forward.

I have ended my therapy (at least for the time being) and it's neat to be in a place where I feel healthy enough to do that. I still deal with anxiety, but I deal with it right now, it doesn't deal with me. Throughout the sessions, one thing I learned that seems to stick out amongst the rest is the fact that I tend to me most anxious when I feel guilty about something. I let guilt throw me into a massive funk that perpetuates itself into a deep, lonely pit. It has been so hard for me to let things go. People talk about baggage? Honey, I got a semi full of furniture I've been moving around with me.

One day last week I was trying to figure out how I was going to make 2011 better than 2010 (I know, I know, after all my anti-resolution talk...) and God put an image into my head. Water. Water is the most facinating substance on Earth. Every living creature needs it, no one is allergic to it, it has no taste, and it's the only substance that is lighter in its solid state (so as not to kill all the arctic fishies). Water cleans itself too, BY MOVING. Ask any survival guru and he'll tell you that when given an option, water out of a river is going to be a better bet than water from a puddle for cleanliness. The constant movement of a river rids it of many impurities. It's when water pools and then stops moving that it begins to breed disease.

I think the same is true in my life. The second I stop moving "onward toward what is ahead", the water in my life pools and my past is allowed to seep back in like bacteria. Suddenly I'm knee deep in a cesspool hoping for a life line. It's not just about forgetting or forgiving something once, it's also about a constant movement away from whatever it is that was toxic.

Water also has an amazing ability to wear down obstacles--just ask the Grand Canyon. The little bumps in your river will wear down over time if you just keep moving over them. It may cause a few rapids but eventually calm waters will prevail. The key here is movement. You may not always know exactly where you are going or where you'll end up, but if you follow the stream, the pattern of your life that God is mapping out, then all you really have to do is keep picking up your feet and setting them down. The current will take care of the rest.

Now would probably be a good time to mention that moving outside the flow intended for you can cause serious problems. Ask anyone who has been victim of a flood. Water is destructive and it can destroy quickly. If I were to sit in my past guilt, regret, anger, resentment, and refuse to move, eventually, I would overflow my banks. The nastiness that I had been sitting in would then begin to infect everything around me. Instead of the water bringing life, it would bring illness and disease to whatever it touched. Refuse to forget the past, essentially damming your life, is a surefire way to destroy everyone around you.

Maybe you'll end up in crystal blue of an ocean, or maybe it'll be a crisp, clear mountain stream, but I hope that by the time my river has run it's course I'm in a place that thrives with vibrant life. Maybe I will have worn all my rocks down. Maybe I will have gotten far enough from my past troubles that even as I slow, they can never catch up. Never infect me again. I'll be able to feel pure, unblemished, vital.

I love the image that God gave me in this metaphor. We all need water for life, and God has interwoven it across above and below every surface of the earth since the beginning of time. I figure it's gotten pretty good at doing what it's supposed to, so I'll take my cue from the river and go with the flow.

Anti-Resolution

Oh the New Year. Bring on the reminiscing of 2010, bring on the resolutions. Do I sound sarcastic? Sorry. Can't help it. Every year the whole "resolution" craze causes me to act a bit childish. Like sticking my fingers in my ears and shouting "La, la, la, la, la" when someone asks me what I resolve to do in the new year. I typically respond that I plan to sever ties with all friends who ask me that question.

It's not that I haven't played the game before. I have made resolutions to loose weight, get a better job, get healthier, read more, look more like Julia Roberts (which lead back to resolution #1), cook more like Julia Child, get more organized, follow a budget. I have even resolved to not make a resolution. By March it is apparent that failure is almost inevitable and adding insult to injury is the fact I set myself up for it VOLUNTARILY in the name of holiday tradition.

The dictionary defines a resolution as a mental state or quality of being firm in purpose. I think if there is any resolution out there worth having it would just be to have the attribute of being resolved, being firm in purpose in whatever you do whenever you do it. Unfortunately for myself and most people I know or see, that isn't what occurs. The YMCA; Bed, Bath and Beyond; and financial planning firms see some of their best boosts in business during January, but remarkably some serious declines by as early as February. People don't stick with it. I know, go ahead a reel in shock at that surprising announcement.

As to the reason why? I can only speak for myself here, but I never end up doing what I set out to do because my goals are too lofty and they are set during a time when I am staring at a post-Christmas destroyed house and putting on my big girl jeans after a few (dozen) too many cookies. No one should be allowed to make a resolution whilst detoxing from Christmas carb overload.

So here is my suggestion. Instead of ringing in the new year under a heavy cloud of things resolved to do for an entire 365 days, just ring in the new year. Enjoy the fact that God has gotten you through another year and go a head and thank him for whatever he has planned next. Have some fun with friends and family and as it is still winter and there is no need to rush out for a bikini, eat a few leftover cookies. Next: Laugh. I've had to do some research on laughter recently and let me tell you, physiologically it's the best thing you can do for your body this time of year. Laughter stimulates the production of chemicals in your body that lots of people pay good money to get in bottles. It also reduces cortisol production, so it can help aide in weight loss if that's on your 2011 to-do list.

Rent a funny movie, hang out with friends over a crazy board game, or just come to my house and hang out with my kids for 10 minutes. You don't even have to mean it. The same chemical reactions happen whether you mean it or not, so laughing at Uncle Fred's stupid knock-knock jokes totally counts. I laugh hysterically every time I look at my skinny jeans right now (granted my state of mind actually borders on true hysteria), but find a reason somewhere to laugh.

I can't stop anyone from making a resolution if they are resolved (ha!) to do it, but whatever your plans, be joyful this year.

Best wishes to all of you in 2011.

With Love,

A Poem For Fellow Messy Mommies

Disclaimer: I love to write, but I nearly flunked poetry in college. Frost I ain't, so read at your own risk.


My car is not clean, not even close
It’s dirty, it’s cluttered, it smells like burnt toast.
On the window, a hand, quite clearly seen;
Imprint created by Grant, aged three.
His artwork was painstakingly made;
Using only the finest marmalade

A quick look down and you might see the floor,
But I haven’t seen it since 2004.
Instead of carpet are banana peels,
And ridiculous trinkets from Happy Meals.
There are sippy cups-- now growing mold;
Cheese-Its and Cheerios, 3 weeks old.
Candy wrappers, the “icky” skin of a pear;
The discarded coats they refuse to wear.

A glance in the trunk and you might be appalled,
To see “extra clothes” now two sizes too small.
I’ve forgotten to remove the stuff from the game,
But most days I’m happy I haven’t forgotten my name.

The cup holders aren’t used for cups anymore;
They’re filled with used tissues from Wilson, aged 4
This is the reason on the front seat you’ll find;
Stains of all colors, all sizes, all kinds;
From spills that occur when Mommy here drives.

The armrest cannot be used now you see,
Because my arm blocks the view of the DVD.
And every mom knows that the key to peace,
Is continuously run movies like Beauty and the Beast.
The console’s days of opening are done,
Because shoving coins in the hinges is loads of good fun.

People say, “hey, get something new to drive”
Now why would I want to give up this sweet ride?
I could be stuck in a blizzard alone and forgotten;
And survive on gummies and goldfish au gratin.
I think there is water down under Grant's feet
Cause something is wet and cold under my seat.

The back bench will have permanent car seat indentations,
So too bad for friends and family relations.
Unless they feel like sitting in a hole,
Created by Greco, Baby’s First and Costco.

The juice stains on the door are actually quite new;
They occurred during a laughing fit on the topic of poo

My car is a mess, but it is my oasis;
As I carry my kids to dozens of places.
I suppose I could clean, but I don’t, you know why?
Cause instead I am found playing with my kids outside.

My car can be messy, but my kids won’t remember
If I’m carrying beach balls around in December
20 years from now, I doubt that they’ll care;
If our car was a little worse for the wear.

Wherever we go, we go together,
And in a few years we’ll upgrade to leather.
Why is leather important to me?
It’s not, but I hear that it’s easy to clean.
So maybe by then I’ll work a bit harder;
To keep my ride from becoming a martyr.
But for now it’s a mess and I just cannot win,
But you’ll have to get over it, or just don’t get in.

Well Walking

A man sits by a pool of water. His legs are twisted an useless. He can do little for himself, so he begs for his lively hood. Life has not been cherries for him, so he curses the wind and growls as people skip by. He stopped dreaming long ago of the life he could have led. A stranger approaches him. There is something about him that seems...? The stranger asks the man a question. "Do you want to be well?" The man listens to the question and wonders if he heard correctly. Here he sits dirty, alone, and motionless and the stranger dares to ask him "do you want to be well"? The answer should be simple. It should take the minimum effort of one word. YES. Instead, he finds that his mouth can't form that word. He gives the stranger a what? An excuse. My life is terrible. No one treats me well. All I want is to get into the pool and yet I can't.

That isn't what the stranger asked. So why couldn't he just say 'yes'? Maybe he doesn't really want healing. Maybe he prefers the pity to a promise that comes with a price. Effort.

That is a story based on John 5: 1-15. Jesus approaches an invalid of 38 years and asks him the most ridiculous question possible. "Do you want to get well?" That's like asking a homeless person, "hey, want a house?" The answer should be there before the question is asked. OF COURSE! Of course the lame want to leap and the homeless long for shelter. And yet...

The man responded with an excuse for laying there. As if, faced with the presence of this (I imagine) radiant stranger, he felt some guilt for just sitting there. He didn't say yes. Maybe he knew what might happen if he did. Jesus told him to "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk" (8). He didn't lift the man to his feet and show him how to move. He didn't hand him a bag of money or the deed to a new home. He didn't even offer to pick up his mat and carry it for him. In essence, he told the man to get himself up, clean up his mess and move on.

How often do I sit on my mat by the pool hoping for pity? I don't think it's intentional, but sometimes I just want someone to show they care about what I'm dealing with. "This is really hard for me. Let me tell you about it for a while" When Jesus shows up and asks me that question "do you want to get well?" My soul screams "YES", but my actions give excuses and keep me on the mat. I continue to sit, starring at the water, hoping someone will lift me into it.

Jesus gives us the ability to do what needs doing, but we have to take the next step. He'll hold you while you cry, sit with you while you grieve, but when it's time to move you have to take the step. If a parent constantly carries their child for fear they will get hurt if left alone, the child will never learn to walk. Never be able to take steps of independence. If God is our father, than doesn't it hold that he wants us to be able to take steps too?

The man was comfortable in his ailment, it was all he knew. While likely his greatest dream, to actually be healed was out his comfort zone. Pity parties are easy. Walking is not. Not when you haven't used those legs in while. There is pain as the feeling returns. There is stiffness as unused muscles stretch. But you wanted to get well.

Next he asks you to pick up your mat. Pick up the mess you were sitting in. Pick up the pieces. Don't leave it for the next person, don't kick it to the side. Get rid of it. Do it when people think you're nuts for giving something up. Do it when YOU think you're nuts for giving something up. Then "walk". Move on, get over it, put it in the rear view. Move away from the pool and its trappings and tell everyone you meet who made you well. He gave you the ability, but you have to make the move.

Live well, tell others, the end.

Letting Go

All through college, during the hot and hazy summers, I worked as a lifeguard at a summer camp. That camp was like my shangri-la. Whatever stress I had felt trying to fit into the collegiate mold melted away in the 100% humidity and heat. One of the first things you see as you enter the property is a huge wooden, for lack of a better term, jungle gym. It's called an Alpine Tower and the second you see it the kid in you says, "must climb". There are several sides to the tower, from easy to pee-your-pants hard. You pick a side, lock into a harness and climb.

The tower is 50 feet tall, and not being into lawsuits, they don't let you climb solo. You are tethered to a trained belayer. The belayer's job is to give you just enough slack to climb on your own power, but not so much that if you fall you play pancake on the ground. You have to communicate with the belayer so they know what you're up to. Before you start your accent you'd better make sure the guy/gal who has your rope is paying attention (see pancake comment above). The belayer lets you know they've got you and up you go.

The first few steps are exhilarating. You are far enough off the ground to feel gravity's insistent pull and tackling this mammoth piece of pine feels easy. As you get higher and are trying to hunt for footholds, you may start to get a little shaky. The ground starts to look very big and the people on it very small. You cling a little tighter to hand holds and maybe slow a bit (unless your a counselor named Wolfgang, but I digress..). The entire way up the belayer--who was introduced to you before you began--calls your name and encourages your progress. If you need to stop they let you, and patiently wait until your nerve returns.

You make it to the top. Amazing! You've just scaled this behemoth and now you have a bird's eye view of all God's glory (or what can be found of it in Antioch). Your muscles probably ache and your hands feel as though you've been hanging on for dear life, which you may have been, but you knew someone was there to catch you if your grip slipped.

So you've made it up...now what? What goes up...must come down. It should be easy. All you have to do is let go. The belayer says he's got you. You know he's down there, you trusted him all the way up, but now? "I have to let go?" "Can't I climb down?" "I'm a pretty big girl, or at least I feel like I am right now."

That is the best explanation I have for my walk with God. When I was young, before "life" really set in, I talked to Him. I learned His name and He knew mine. He said He had me and I trusted and begin the climb. When I started to stumble, or couldn't find a grip, He reminded me He was still there. When I needed rest He let me take it, and then urged me onward. I knew He was there, but I had some control. I WAS CLIMBING. I had the grips, He just had my back. I trusted that.

But then you reach a pinnacle. You hit the point where you have to let go. It's time to completely give yourself over. You can't go any further on your own strength. It's His turn. You can't climb down, and jumping is certain death, so you have to figure it out, but how can you let go of the only thing you understand? You understand the climb, but the free fall is another matter. You can make the decision to try to make it down on your own, but then you have to traverse the same shake-inducing path blind and backwards.

In my story, when I hit the top, I froze. The belayer encouraged, comforted, chided and eventually shouted, "Woman, I got this. Let go!" I did. If you think getting to the top is amazing...wait til you hit the ground again!

So for myself, and for anyone else reading. I know it's scary, but He's got you. Let go.

"Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to finding yourself, your true self. " Matthew 16:25 The Message