An Old Guy Announces a New Beginning

I can't leave this Christmas behind without one last look at an obscure old guy who became my hero last month as I read Luke's account of the Christmas Story.  Zechariah had labored away in ministry for decades. He had been faithful, even risen through the ranks of his organization.  Yet, one thing was missing:  a son.  Elizabeth barren, and presumably past menopause. So, that door definitely seemed shut.  Still he labored on.  Most likely, he hoped to see more of God, but never expected anything big to happen, even when offering incense in the temple.

Gabriel's arrival rocked his world. He wasn't ready for it.  He surrendered to  fear and cynicism.  That  cost him dearly as Elizabeth passed through her time of waiting for the "joy and delight." of a son.  Unable to speak, he listened and watched as God did the improbable. Then, Elizabeth made another unlikely suggestion. The name John was not part of the family heritage. Once again, this was not the way things were done.  But this time, when the questions come, Zechariah is ready to follow. "He is to be called John!"  This new name will make it clear that their baby is to be the one "to make ready a people prepared for the Lord."
With that Zechariah finds his voice and his role as a herald of new beginnings.

A second dance constantly faces a similar challenge of faith.  It is an unlikely, unexpected process. Following the path means that many things change.  The lack of the familiar often unsettles those around us, and we hear and feel the challenge often. So, we have to return to the instructions HE issued when HE called us to this dance. Even when we wait for the next steps, we pay heed to the Messenger who reminds us that the best is yet to be!

How does this work? I don't know but it does!

Early in our relationship, Cindy and I went to see "Last Chance Harvey."   Diminutive Dustin Hoffman meets and pursues, statuesque Emma Thompson across London.  They are an unlikely couple.  He is scarred, she is scared, yet the magic of love draws them together.  Whenever the doubts engulf her, she asks him, "How will this work?"  To which he sheepishly replies, "I don't know, but it will."
Seeing  that movie together, comforted this wounded and worried couple as we wove our lives together.  I never doubted God's call for me to pursue and win Cindy.  From that moment on, whenever she asked how this could work, "I would just smile and say, "I don't know, but it will."
This morning, the question "How can this work?" jumped out at me from Christmas story in Luke 1. As Gabriel heralds the coming birth of Jesus, Mary poses the question, "How can this work out? (v. 34) The reply isn't a biology lesson, but an assurance that with God nothing is impossible with God,(v. 37).
God is always more interested in helping us claim the reality of his coming, than He is in explaining the methodology of His coming. We often face crisis where we have to believe that God will guide us, even when we don't understand how He will get us to the other side. 
To outside observers, I suppose we are are an unlikely pair.  Many might wonder how this impressive, accomplished lady ever wound up with this short eccentric from the ministry world. How does this work?
"I don't know but it does."  And remarkably well, I might add!

Finding the Perfect Savior in my Imperfect Christmas

My most magical memories revolve around Christmas: trimming the tree with my older brothers, caroling to elderly folks around our rural Kansas community, getting the toy I really didn’t expect. Later, the Macha kids initiated a “silly string” fight after the last gift was opened. When Cindy and I came together I learned that Christmas had known more heartbreak than magic lately, and I resolved to make magic for her.  So, our Christmases have included filling shopping carts with gifts for the grandkids, and taking them to ride the Strasburg Railroad’s Christmas Run.


Yet, no matter how hard I have tried, I have never quite managed to pull off that perfect Christmas. I forget to buy batteries for the Wii “wand of power”; the ping pong table top comes crashing down just after we finish its assembly, a child (or adult) sits pouting in the corner, disillusioned with the whole thing. There is always that moment when I cry out in despair “I give up! Christmas is ruined!!”

Could it be that these failures and disappointments hold the true wonder of Christmas? Our failure to keep a perfect Christmas points us toward the true need for Christmas. We live in a broken imperfect world; we are lost and flawed people. The universe needs a Savior: The One who will make all things new. In Advent we remember the One who has come to repair the universe and restore our hearts to HIM. In advent we ask every heart to prepare HIM room because HE will come again to make all things new! At Advent things begin to happen.

 

Compelled to Announce

I forgot to mention that Dave and Becca's dessert bar reception included offerings from our cafe---Just trying to "grow the brand."  Even more exciting was our chance to share our story with a couple we just met at our table.  In a perfect setting we launched into the tale with great glee and zeal. And once more  I saw the eyes light up and the smiles turn on as these new friends shared our joy. 

My recent reading of Acts 20 affirmed another purpose of this new dance.  We are called to announce his redeeming power in the wake of pain. This world that has experienced far too much disappointment and has far too often misplaced its dreams. People can be warmed by our reminder that God truly does create beauty from ashes.  Even as I danced I am compelled to announce that God does bring new mercies each day.

The Band Plays On!

Last night we watched David and Becca unite in marriage. Becca is the daughter of dear friends, so we watched both Steve and Sharon "glow up" and "mist over" as the ceremony progressed. We laughed sheepishly as the story of their online connection was recounted as it sounded just a bit like ours. At the reception we recalled the unique twists we had put on our own arrangements, even as appreciated their "dessert bar" reception meal. And what man can attend a wedding without remembering the magic moment in which his own bride walks down the aisle?

Still, this hopeful young couple stepping on to the dance floor the first time provided a stark contrast with Cindy and me. They come into their union as blank slates in so many ways. Their hearts are filled with far more hopes than disappointments.

Wounded by the death and default that ended our first dances, we came to the altar acknowledging our brokeness. We took to the dance floor aware of pain. Thus the tune is less simple, but much richer in texture.

Today Acts 20 reminded of the direction of our song. Paul writes, "I want to finish the race." That's it. This tune is not a preluede. It more about finishing well than starting over. We approach the final movement of our symphony in which we dance with far more purpose and joy than we have ever danced before. We find ourselves dancing on top of the rubble of our brokeness toward the Hall of Glory. Our joint celebration continues for now because the band plays on!

The Gift of Receiving

One day last month I woke up to the sounds of "Happy Birthday, Danny." Morning breakfast and thoughtful gifts followed. When we went out to dinner that night friends surprised me at the restaurant. That night I told her that she had made Birthday #58 special.

All this got me to thinking about we bless the giver when we receive a kindness with appreciation. When we ingore another's love, we leave them rejected. Their soul withers like a plant without water. When we demand another's love we leave them exploited. It is as if we have stripped a tree of its branches. But when we receive the love of another we nurture them. It as if we are driving the roots of their heart into rich soil. As my birthday ended, I saw Cindy glow with pride, aware that her planning and preparation had furthered our love.

Is it possible that in embracing another's love we are actually reflecting the Divine Image back their way? After all, HE basks in our love, without manipulation or violation. When we embrace another, we move them outside themselves toward the blessing of giving. Meanwhile, in the best moments of relationship we see firsthand what it is like to be loved without demand. And we are left with only one question, "How can I learn to love like this?"

The nightmare of loss, The dream of gain

You weep through the ending of a first dance. Betrayal evokes bitter tears. Nothing is as gut wrenching as wailing at the grave of your best friend. Such sorrows cut deep, never to be forgotten. Yet, there is an unreal dreamlike quality to it all. The pain validates the reality of the experience even as you try to deny magnitude of your loss. You find yourself caught up in a nightmare, with no way to wake up.

This past week Psalm 126 walked me through the valley of despair and deliverance once more. I was reminded that honest tears irrigate a harvest of righteous gain. Living through loss gave Cindy and me the courage to compassionately embrace the other's suffering. Our union then gave us the context to sing---and dance once more.

Last night we teamed up to build hope into the lives of a new generation. We led a group of Hempfield kids into the painful reality that 1 in 6 children know chronic hunger. Then we called them to celebrate the fact that for $1 per day they could lift someone out of the painful ache of hunger.

We were there because we have experienced emptiness and watched the Lord of the Dance lead us into healing joy. Now we are called to lead others to the dance of obedience and love. There is a harvest to be gathered when HE delivers us from the nightmare of loss to the joy of tasting HIS love afresh once more.