Spirit

Anyone Else Want To Dance In February Instead Of Sit In Despair?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

As mentioned last time, my head was in my hands, a cloud of despair surrounding me, weighing me down.

Regardless of how I was feeling, I had to make a choice. Do I take another fun pill, declare another ski day, to distract from this swirling pit beneath me, my life, that threatened to consume me?

Or did I put on my work pants, and get busy constructing a new life for myself and for my homeschooling family, one that we would have the strength to complete all the way from September to June?

And you? Is anyone else feeling the February pull into that familiar black hole of despair?

How do we dance in joy through the dark month of winter?

1. We lift our despair, scoop as much as we can in our hands, and we lift this offering to God.

2. We listen. We reattach our ears. We practice the habits that are the glue helping our ears to stay stuck.

3. We tell others in our trusted community what we think the spirit of God is whispering. The sounds are muffled and garbled, and the sound waves pass through our hearts mixed with wrong motives, so we have trouble understanding.

4. We look for our dancing shoes. Where are they again? Where are those dreams? Where did we last leave them? Who did God say I am, again?

5. We gingerly take His hand and step onto the dance floor of our lives. He is in the lead, not us. Will we humbly let him lead our lives? Will we give up our right to drive our own car and our accompanying future car wrecks to learn how to dance?

The choice is yours. The choice is mine.

Come on, friend! The adventure of a lifetime awaits us! Get up off that couch!

God, all of us long for a good father who holds out a hand to help us up when we fall. The one who has everything we need to open the right door of opportunity for our future lives.

You are that Father.

Open our eyes to see this.

May we trust You more deeply. Help us get off the couch to escape from the lies we believe about ourselves and our lives.

You alone offer us genuine hope for our futures.

May we have the courage to step onto the dance floor with You.

Teach us to dance.

As you meditate on the words below and listen to the song below, take deep breaths and practice quieting your heart before God.

You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I’m about to burst with song;
I can’t keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can’t thank you enough.

The Message

Cry out to Him. What gift do you imagine He is giving you?

Quiet your heart again, and then ask God how He sees you. What do you feel? What does your mind imagine?

Is it time to look for some dancing shoes?

Don’t Despair! The Monster Scaring You Is Only February!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Head in hands again. Trying to shut out the noise. The kids with their needs swirling around me.

We are homeschooling in February.

I sat on the couch, overwhelm consuming me. Do I declare (another) fun day and take the kids cross-country skiing?

Should we call all our homeschooling friends and organize (another) hockey party on the free outdoor ice rink?

Do I give them as much “independent work” as I can and try to tackle the mess of stuff in the basement, the pile that seems to have acquired a life of its own and that roars at me as I pass like a Yeti in the basement?

Or do I confront the emotions in my heart that are spilling out onto the couch next to me, a mess I am trying to hide but that is emerging despite my best efforts to pretend I am confidently steering this homeschooling ship?

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to hide behind the fun. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that our home is so disorganized that we can no longer find pencils to do our math. Or that no one cares. “I like using a green pencil crayon for math, Mommy!” she asserts.

She is not trying to make me feel better. She is genuinely happy. Her needs are met.

And mine?

“I’m not worried about the kids,” my husband would assert. “I’m worried about you.”

So I offer you tea and a listening ear, dear homeschooling Mom and Dad, and ask:

How are you?

Not how are your kids?

Not how is the state of your home (We know it’s a disaster. You homeschool!)

How are you?

People who suppress feelings experience less positive and more negative emotions.

APA PsycNet

And then your tears, and your head in hands, and I put my arm around you to comfort you.

Husbands, put on a helmet first and then TRY asking your wives if PMS is real.

You know the answer, or you will find out soon enough.

Similarly, the homeschooling in February blues is real.

I want to propose (shout out to Mystie Winckler for the essence of this paragraph’s wisdom!) that the path we walk through the regular monthly cycling of our emotions gives us a hint for how we walk through the annual cycling of our feelings during the homeschooling year.

And February is hard.

Now, I know that you don’t have time for a dissertation. Your child is pulling your arm already, something is burning on the stove, and you have dog vomit to clean up, but you need some help. Now.

Don’t quit homeschooling in February.

If you take the advice of the sentence above, then go! Go and get through the day! Well done, Mom and Dad!

If you have another 5 minutes, here is an explanation for the statement above.

When sailors would navigate using the stars, how would they do it? They would choose their course on a cloudless, moonlit night. “I am heading north-east,” they would assert, and set their hearts and sails in that direction.

On a cloudy night, when the stars were invisible, and they didn’t know which way to go, what did they do?

They kept sailing in the same direction.

February, head in our hands month, is a cloudy night, desolation.

Ignatius describes desolation as “. . . darkness of soul, . . . the unquiet of different agitations and temptations, . . . when one finds oneself . . . as if separated from his Creator and Lord.” . . .

Ignatius warns us that someone in desolation should never change an important decision . . . made when they were in a state of consolation.

The Jesuit Post

Keep sailing in the same direction.

How do you do it? How do you survive one more day, you ask desperately? I’ll give you some tips, held like cherished gems in my pocket from long years on the sea, at another time, friend, because our time together has ended for today.

But oh, desolation is an opportunity for our growth.

May you reach your destination.

However, you may not end up where you thought you were sailing.

That is His way.

The Despair Of February Is Our Ticket To True Homeschooling Freedom

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I was slipping into the dark abyss.

My fingernails scratched the side of the dark tube I was falling. I was trying to hold on, to stop myself from falling. Nothing worked.

I fell faster and further and landed with a painful thump. Sitting in the dirt, I tried to take stock of my situation to figure out what to do next.

I couldn’t climb my way out of this pit. Bits of dirt fell out of the walls when I tried to pull myself up with my own strength,

I sat down again, discouraged.

What do I do next?

I sat on the couch, the kids running in circles around me. The dog followed them, stopping to eat a puzzle piece that had fallen on the ground.

“He’ll throw that up later,” I thought, but I stayed where I was, slouched on the couch, watching the commotion.

How had homeschooling become so complicated?

Welcome to February.

And it is to you, dear homeschooling parent, that I send out a blimp in the sky, something that you will notice amidst the noise. “What is that?” you wonder, looking up, up at some shape you can barely recognize high up in the sky.

The dishes have piled up again, and secretly, you find yourself wondering more and more often what it would feel like to don work clothes and to wave “Goodbye!” to the kids each morning with a smile and a wave. Next year? (The rest of THIS homeschooling year . . . ? What WOULD that be like . . . ) You are lost in a daydream again.

We try to shake ourselves awake. We walk to the next room in a half-hearted effort to clean up. The piles of half used, forgotten curriculum mocks you from every room you pass. “Ha! You didn’t finish me either!” it yells at you.

The kids are happy, delighted. They kiss you as they soar past, trying out a new paper airplane they designed, as they throw it, again, from the top of the stairs, laughing.

They stop to offer you a kiss. “Do you want a cup of water?” they ask sweetly, wanting, in their limited way, to help you. They have a look of concern in their eyes. They know that mommy doesn’t feel “regular” today. These are good kids.

But even they can’t help you climb out of your pit.

The pull of February drowns out their voices. Their words sound muffled, far away.

The martini that you have never actually drunk but that entices you as a far-off reward for someday doesn’t cut it today.

Dirt falls from the side of the walls and won’t hold your weight when you try pulling yourself out of this pit with a promised martini.

Maybe you can wait here, sit in your despair until spring, you wonder?

You look up at the top of the pit. “How can the light reach way, way down here?” you wonder.

I will be writing a series of posts, dear homeschooling parent, to help you through the February blues.

In February, the long winter stretches out with no Christmas in sight. The rest of the school year seems long, long away.

If you haven’t felt discouraged yet, you probably will.

(Shh… God is holding a ticket out of here for you. Do you see Him? But the only way out of this pit is if He transforms you so you have wings. Are you ready to fly?)

Stay tuned to this series of posts to help you:

(1) Not be surprised at the February homeschooling blues when they knock at your door and come in uninvited,

(2) Allow God to transform YOU (not your kids), and

(3) Better align with a way to homeschool that puts a smile back on your face.

Are you ready to soar?

He energizes those who get tired,
gives fresh strength to dropouts.

The Message

Do You Cower Inside Your Box, Too?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

What if I am in a box, but the box is too small for me? I push on every side, but no luck. I remain, for the rest of my days, perhaps, encased in something that contains me, squeezes me.

After a while, like shoes that are too tight that have been worn for a long, long, time, we cease to notice the pain. It feels normal.

Jesus was calling me, wooing me out of the box I had squeezed myself into. Like a safety blanket, the box held me close, and comforted me somehow, in an unhealthy, painful way.

He leaned down and put his head close to the opening of the box. Come, He bid me, metaphorically. His eyes reflected and deepened my pain. He held out His hand to me. Would I follow?

I hadn’t noticed that the box was open. But like those who have been imprisoned for too long, their eventual freedom scares them. They long to be imprisoned again, and may even commit an offence to return to their prison cell.

Freedom is just too scary. It’s comfortable here, we reason.

But I listened to Him recently. I gently clasped His hand, but then struggled, letting go of his hand after a brush with discouragement.

I tried again. He waited patiently for me, encouraging me. Come. Try again, He seemed to beckon, his arm outstretched. So I did.

And now I am free of that box. I can stand, dance and move around now.

I am in a new box now, but one that is bigger. He is beckoning me still, however, to come, to come out of the new box I have created for myself.

I am more free, yes, and this is good, He seems to be saying, joy in His eyes. But more freedom awaits, He seems to be saying. I made you to fly.

Who will give me wings,” I ask— “wings like a dove?” Get me out of here on dove wings.

The Message

And this description that I have written today is the spiritual side of the story. The human side of the story, like the other side of the same coin, the part that is easier to talk about, is my journey of learning to fast, to abstain for a time from food.

Sometimes in doing what we don’t want to do, in fasting, or in stepping out of the box we have created for ourselves, we finally are a bit more free.

Our vision expands when we fly.

Do you also feel you are stuck in a box? If so, as the song below plays, and after a few minutes of thanksgiving, consider asking Holy Spirit: What is one step I can take to find my way out of this box, and test my wings?

The “Unwanted” Baby Is Wanted By All?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I’m wiping the tears from my eyes again.

It was movie and popcorn night. We watched UnPlanned, the astonishing, true story of Planned Parenthood Director Abby Johnson’s journey across the line from Choice to Life.

We were all undone.

As my tiny and insignificant contribution to this whirlwind topic of our day, like a feather battling a windstorm, I include below a poem I wrote.

May our prayers reach the ear of God, that the prevailing cultural winds would change direction and blow the feather toward God again and again and again . . . we pray.

Lord, have mercy on us, all of us, for we are a sinful people.

And may we pause to consider the following:

Simon Peter [who] . . . fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.”

The Message

and

If . . . my people, my God-defined people, respond by humbling themselves, praying, seeking my presence, and turning their backs on their wicked lives, I’ll be there ready for you: I’ll listen from heaven, forgive their sins, and restore their land to health.

The Message

They Say She’s Not Wanted

They say she’s not wanted in this world.

Yet I’ve seen her mom, belly swelled in mystical expectation, nervously meeting prospective adoptive parents for the first time. Tears flowed on all sides at the first introduction, bonded somehow at the initial meeting. I’ve chatted with her mom many times while she lay curled up in the womb.

My heart broke for her mom because she could not raise her now.

I met her birth grandma and cried with her over the expectation of the first grandchild in the family.

The fulfillment of a grandmother’s dreams was not that the child would be whisked from her arms before they would know each other well. “You take good care of her,” the grandmother whispered to the adoptive mother through tears.

I’ve met her birth father.

A boy-man, wearing the tough guy mask in front of his friends and family. I sat with him while he, head in hand, sobbed a mountain of anguished tears, knowing that her birth mom could not stay with him forever and be the family unit that he dreamed of.

I’ve cried with him too.

I’ve also met them – the crowds of families, with polished faces and pages full of dreams in shiny dossiers, cartwheeling over each other in efforts to impress. They plead, “Please pick us. We want her. We want to be her family. Oh, won’t you please pick us?”

I know them because I was also a member of one of those families. And our family was chosen. And oh, how the aching in our hearts was finally filled with love and gratitude for this cherished life.

Thank you, birth mothers, birth fathers, and birth grandparents, for standing firm in love and truth, regardless of the shifting sand of popular opinions.

We honor you, and we love you.

Thank you for placing your child in the arms of a family who will love and care for her.

Thank you for allowing this child to thrive in the healing love of all of us in her extended birth families and her extended adoptive family.

And we share a secret, don’t we?

Even if they don’t know it, we know these children are wanted by MORE people than can be counted.

The Best Way To Be Less of A Jerk? Pretend To Be Someone Else!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I found myself still in pajamas, curlers in my straight hair, yelling at my homeschooled kids to get up, get dressed, and get to their work!

The only problem was that I hadn’t done any of those things yet.

They pointed out my inconsistencies and went back to playing Nintendo, their little pajamaed butts mocking me as they lay on their stomachs, resuming their play.

Why did I bother teaching my kids logic, I wondered, wearily. Now their reasoning skills match mine.

I needed a bigger bullet to fight in this homeschooling war.

I scoured books, and homeschooling journals, and cried with my fellow homeschooled moms, all of whom were also still in their pyjamas. They could relate with empathy.

The best military strategy I found was to:

1) Get up early,

2) Get dressed, and

3) Put on lipstick, a nice scarf, and a smile.

In other words, I was pretending to be someone else.

By default, I had been acting like Mrs. Name-changed, the Grade 1 teacher I didn’t like. Mrs Name-changed always forgot to wear deodorant and to mark our assignments. She was always in a bad mood.

Then I remembered my favorite Grade 3 teacher, Mrs. Chamberlain. She looked nice every day and had a sweet smile.

If Mrs Chamberlain had some characteristics that I wanted to emulate, then I needed to choose those same characteristics until those traits became a part of my identity too.

The question is:

Who Are We Becoming?

I chose Mrs. Chamberlain.

And it worked!

My kids’ logic that “I wasn’t doing it either” was finally cancelled, and they reluctantly put Nintendo away, meandering to their rooms to find their (non-pajama) clothes, unused these past 3 months, since homeschooling started this fall.

And what is the lesson, here, I wondered, as I sipped martinis by the pool later that afternoon, ringing a small bell to usher them onto their next subject?

The lesson is best summarized in a popular TED talk by Psychologist Amy Cuddy. She said our BODIES change our MINDS (our thoughts and feelings). Therefore, we can:

“Fake it until you BECOME it. Do it enough until you actually BECOME it, and internalize it.”

Amy Cuddy

The lesson is, WHO ARE YOU?

But friends, that’s exactly who we are: children of God. And that’s only the beginning. Who knows how we’ll end up! What we know is that when Christ is openly revealed, we’ll see him—and in seeing him, become like him. All of us who look forward to his coming stay ready, with the glistening purity of Jesus’ life as a model for our own.

The Message

When we understand who we are, we have a shot at becoming aligned with who God created us to be.

Time to switch off the iPads, stop scrolling through Amazon for more stuff to fill the void inside, and dig out the royal clothes that are in the very back of your closet, the ones God gave you so long ago, that you forgot they were even there.

Then:

1) Let’s get up early and rest in who God made us to be instead of running in frenzied circles like everyone else.

2) Let’s put on our royal robes as children of the King, our true identity.

3) Let’s gaze at the One who gives us His identity as we align our lives with what He is whispering to the deepest recesses of our hearts.

So let’s step into the truth of who we really are, the ones Jesus died for, and the ones who have found our identity, which is those who abide with Him. And this identity is enough.

As the music below plays, consider asking God, “How do You see me?”

How To Get God to Like You

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

He looked at me intently, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you think I am going to hell?”

His question was honest, open, curious. This wasn’t a loaded question, as if he had a pile of ready-made snowballs next to him, ready to fire, whatever the response.

He just wanted to know what I thought.

Our mutual friend jumped between us, trying to get his attention. His eyes remained fixed in my direction while she spoke.

She confidently asserted her opinion.

He was half listening, and when she finished, he re-directed his question, quietly, back in my direction.

“But what do you think?”

“I think that God considers the revelation that we have received, compared to the revelation that we currently hold.”

His eyebrows furrowed further.

Let me explain.

Some of us have received more revelation, truth, or light -we’ll use the term revelation – of God than others. The child of the pastor for example, who has been raised in an atmosphere of grace and forgiveness will have more revelation than the child who was tossed aside by his parents for another cocaine hit.

However, if that same child who was born into a Christian family had parents who secretly abused him emotionally, spiritually, or physically, that child might have even less revelation than the child of the cocaine addict.

So this revelation is not something that we can see or measure in others. Only God knows the amount of true revelation that each one has received in our lifetimes.

And- how much of this revelation that we have received, are we still carrying? This is the second question that is equally important.

Have we held this revelation like water held in a hand with fingers spread apart? Has the revelation dripped away? Did we toss aside what we have received, including the spiritual encounters of others that we have heard about?

Or have we treasured in our hearts, like Mary the mother of Jesus, the wondrous revelation that we have received?

Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself.

The Message

We are not to sit on our revelation from God like a bird, sitting on a clutch of eggs, waiting for a God moment to hatch. We are to hold up each egg, talk about it with others, and examine it in the light.

Is this egg, this revelation, a rotten egg? Is this an experience true to the person of Jesus, or did another spew the words of Jesus while manipulating me for their own advantage?

And then, the biggest test of all, can we try a bite of the egg? We risk. We read a book. We go to breakfast at the church with a friend who seems genuine in her faith. We ask a question, openly, honestly, and genuinely curious about the other’s response, like my friend did.

What did the food taste like at the church breakfast? Do we feel sick after eating it? Maybe that egg was rotten.

But the point is, that we DID something. We went out on a limb and took a risk to discover truth about the revelation that we have received.

What is the next step in your spiritual journey? Is it time to stop sitting and start tasting?

Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see – how good God is.

The Message

Oh, and if you taste and see, and are walking, in your abilities, in faithfulness, along the journey that God has given to you, following the clues as they come, then yes, you can be confidently assured that God likes you.

And I like you too.

And if we like you, why wouldn’t you like yourself?

This post is part of our Say-It-Again On Friday series, where we say it again, on Fridays!

We’re Overweight Because We Lack Organization Not Self-Control (Healthy Habits Post 8)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Hopefully, I’m organized enough to remember that I was writing a series of posts on a particular topic and then if I get distracted, come back at a later date and finish the series.

It happens more than I’d like to admit that I write a post, announce something I’ll talk about later and then completely forget that I ever wrote that.

In the last few posts, I took a break from my blogpost series about healthy habits. But today I remembered to . . . I mean . . . I AM writing about healthy habits.

It’s not that I didn’t WANT to finish the series of posts I am writing about healthy habits.

It’s just that I’m highly distractible.

What was I saying?

Anyway, this post is about how to be more organized and focused, so let’s get started!

I proved definitely in previous posts that we ACTUALLY:

  1. LOVE practicing annoying healthy habits
  2. LOVE drinking nothing but water
  3. LOVE becoming exhausted exercising
  4. LOVE eating green food
  5. LOVE starving ourselves
  6. LOVE to avoid dessert (future blog post, if I remember)

So by now, we have finally figured out (or tricked ourselves into believing) that these healthy habits are awesome.

How we DO these habits, the hard work of rolling up our sleeves and getting them done is the next part.

But that’s not as hard now, because if we WANT to do something, then getting up enough willpower to prep and do the work so we can DO these habits is the easy part. 

Being successful in life is kind of like being successful in homeschooling our kids, I think.

The main goal of a homeschooling parent is to structure school in such a way that the kid enjoys learning as much as possible. If a kid WANTS to do something we can stand back, and yeah, maybe even drink a martini by the pool for once, for real. (For about an hour, tops, but this time I’m telling the truth about martinis).

And it’s the same with motivating us. When we WANT to do something we can make it happen.

Sometimes we beat ourselves up for all the wrong reasons. We are annoyed at ourselves for having an unhealthy lunch, and we assume it must have something to do with self-control.

Organization is the real culprit.

Try spending two hours on the weekend preparing healthy food to make these healthy habits easier during the week.

Here is an example to get you started. Her methods have been transformational for me.

I’ve learned that if we put in that extra bit of effort to buy proper running shoes, it’s a lot easier to run the race. Similarly, if we put that little bit of effort into preparing healthy foods then success is inevitable.

We won’t go from couch potatoes to famous triathletes in one week, of course, but we will make progress, and progress is enough.

Jesus told them a story showing that it was necessary for them to pray consistently and never quit.

The Message

We can find a way, and we’re proud of ourselves, and we can give ourselves a little sticker on the wall or whatever it is that motivates us, particularly.

Yes! I do have a LOT of stickers! Why do you ask?

And whatever it takes, right?

If We Laugh More, We Can Dominate Others More!

/ Lori Lawe / 3 Comments

I was frustrated, kicking the ground as I walked. Homeschooling is impossible enough without this additional hurdle lying prostrate before me. I didn’t have enough speed to make it through the regular hurdles of life. . .

. . . nevermind this race I’m running strewn with toppled school desks, kid’s toys, and homeschooling supplies.

We did a personality test for a fun homeschooling project.

The results scared me to my core.

My daughter, the one who has been slowly asserting dominance over me every time my back has been turned since she was, oh, about two months old, has a personality that is – get this – most similar to a lion.

And my personality?

Not a lion tamer. Nope.

Not a blue whale, larger than life.

Not a great white shark, terrifying those within a several kilometre radius.

My personality, most unfortunately, given that I have a lion-like child trying to bite me whenever I’m not looking, is best compared to . . .

. . . a sweet and gentle creature whose favorite past time is to play.

My personality is most similar to that of an otter.

“And HOW is an otter supposed to lead a lion?” I yelled at God that day, kicking the path as I walked.

“All that kid wants to do is eat me!”

Try being David when your child is Goliath. Sure, it’s one thing to vanquish Goliath in a one-off contest using an unexpected weapon. But LEAD Goliath, David? Day after day? Good luck!

And that’s my job.

Also the strategy of “hide a bit and hope to survive until, oh, 8:30 am when the school bus comes each day” won’t work for me.

Nope.

This kid is with me 24/7.

We homeschool.

What was I thinking taking on this mammoth task?

“God!” I called out, my anger turned to desperation. “How is an otter supposed to parent a lion?”

And the picture He gave me in my mind that day as I walked changed everything.

The picture was of an otter, front legs straight out and entirely touching the ground, tail wagging.

Now pause here because this picture has meaning to dog owners. This is the position dogs assume to indicate it’s playtime.

And the rest of the picture?

The lion assumed the same pose, following the cues of the otter. Behind the roaring facade, she wanted to have fun.

She just didn’t know how.

Play with her, God whispered.

And I was given a tool that unlocked my daughter’s heart and opened a new parenting door for us, leading to a beautiful place.

I understood what He was whispering.

The lion will WILLINGLY submit to the otter so she can play.

The next day, when that little lion led me to an emotional place I never wanted to visit again, I stopped myself from following her lead.

I wasn’t in the mood to play.

But “Let’s play,” I announced.

I thought, “Let’s play a game where I try not to wring your little neck.”

But when I took the reigns, went with my natural strengths, and played with her, even though I didn’t feel like it, the little lion unwound herself and laughed a bit. And she hugged me.

And she was so dang cute that we played a little longer, and soon, I was having a great time, too.

I was leading again.

She naturally followed.

But this is the weird thing.

She came under my leadership for the rest of the day.

Fifteen minutes of play transformed her into a little lion-otter, expectantly waiting for me to help fun tickle her side at any moment.

And I made it through that homeschooling day.

Reflecting that night with a glass of wine, I asked my husband to promise to help me remember to proactively PLAY with my little lion so I could dominate her.

Er. . . LEAD her, I meant to write.

Whatever.

The point is that God has a solution to our EVERY problem.

And who knows? Maybe this strategy would work in other situations?

Try it with your boss. Tell him he’s a loser, and then laugh. See if you get that promotion after all!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

God, thank you that our mammoth problems are tiny piles of sand to You, that can be blown away with one breath of Your Spirit. Speak to us and remind us to hide beneath Your wings, the place where You hand out both love for us, and wisdom for our myriad challenges, we pray.

He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection.

Ancient Text

When The Gift Box Opened On Christmas Day Is Empty

/ Lori Lawe / 4 Comments

Who isn’t excited to open a present?

Even for the most hardened of hearts, a brush with hope in an unopened present makes the soil of our hearts ready for the seed.

And what happens when we open the box and find nothing inside? We turn it over and examine it from another angle. Did we miss something? We take the box apart before finally setting it aside.

Disappointment.

Even for the happiest house with the most joyous children and (reasonably) healthy relationships, the best we can hope for on earth, this unrest arrives.

In the quiet, when the kids have disappeared upstairs to play, when the guests are quietly conversing, the emptiness arrives.

It appears as an ache, a heaviness that weighs us down a little. We mindlessly pick up the wrapping papers strewn around the room, our thoughts following us.

And then after we’ve had our fill of chocolate, and coffee, and cinnamon buns, and laughter, the sadness reawakens, the one that was slumbering within.

And so we pick up our sadness, gently. We scoop it up with our hands and lift our hands to God.

And this is our present, cherished as a pile of diamonds, that we offer our Father.

The tears in His eyes mirror our own, and His fingertips brush ours as He gently takes this gift from us.

Come, come, child. Come away with me, He beckons our heart.

We follow Him, the tears not yet erupted from the geyser within as we smile at the others and follow Him to a lonely place.

And in that place, perhaps the quiet of a room downstairs, by ourselves, He holds us as we cry. He dances with us as we celebrate. He comforts us as we plead with Him for His kingdom to come over some area of brokenness in our lives or our loved one’s lives.

And when the tears have been shed, and the comfort received, we return to them, to the family and friends.

And our gift has been opened, the one we were waiting for, the one that fills our hearts.

The gift of Him.

Merry Christmas, He says to you.

Did you open your gift this Christmas?

Jesus, teach us to pour out our heart as a gift to You.

As you listen to this song, consider talking to Holy Spirit, like talking to a friend over coffee. What do you most long to ask Jesus?

Ask Him.

And wait in the quiet stillness for a bit.

And may Your life be touched by a glimmer of the divine, which is a gift that when opened, contains everything you’ve been longing for.

Merry Christmas.