Christmas Lights

When our girls were little, one of the favorite December activities was to bundle everyone up at night, climb into the car and go searching for Christmas lights.  (Our oldest daughter learned her left from her right during this adventure one year--"Christmas lights on the right;  Christmas lights on the left," she would say.)  We would ride through neighborhoods and our family would rate the festive displays with words like "pretty," "classy," "tacky," "REALLY TACKY."  Then we giggled with delight and anticipation as we went on to look for the next bright yard.

We saw light-up Santas and nativities, twinkle light covered Christmas trees, houses outline in large red, green, blue and yellow bulbs.  And then there was my favorite--single white candles in small paned windows. 

This tradition of a single candle burning in a window goes all the way back to colonial times.  It alerted onlookers that a loved one was away from home.  A homeowner would leave a candle burning in the window to symbolize lighting the way home for their faraway family member.  Today military families still light those candles.

And this practice is no different than when our daughters were out late with the car--we would leave the light on and we didn't sleep until the girls were safe at home and off to bed. 

Two thousand years ago a father's son left home.  I've often wondered, did that father throw a going away party the night before his son left.  Did that father begin a calendar counting down the days until his son's return?  Did the father leave his son's room untouched until he came home?

One thing I do know that father did, was to set a light in place to let the world know that his son was away from home but he had gone to be with us.  God set a star in the sky to announce the birth of his son, Jesus--the light of the world.  Each time I see a tremendous star in the sky, I think of the father's love and sacrifice it took to give up his son's immediate presence to shed light into my life.

In the Gospels, Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

"If Only"

The other day Jim and I were running an errand.  We had a bit of a drive to get to our destination and Jim asked if I would mind if he listened to a cassette tape (yes my car still has a cassette player and we still own some cassettes) of a speaker he heard at a conference.  I said, "sure."

The speaker began by saying something to the effect that two of the most dangerous words in the English language are, "if only."  That small statement set my mind in motion.  I related to the fact that I have said that phrase all my life propelling me into chronic discontent.  "If only my childhood family wasn't so poor."  "If only I hadn't waited until the night before my term paper was due to begin writing it."  "If only I could find the love of my life (I eventually did, but at age 20 I thought it would never happen)."  "If only...if only...if only."  You get it.

Lately my "if only" has been, "if only my kidneys worked."  What I realized is that I have been wishing my life away and waiting for perfect scenarios so that I can declare my life to be content and happy.  Sometimes my "if onlys" have been so paralyzing that I have not been able to move forward with participation and purpose.  But God is challenging me.  In the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy it says,

"This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him."

Choose life today.  Choose life tomorrow.  Choose life next week and next month and next year.  Find purpose in this day.  Be grateful and give thanks.  Express love.  Be fully present.  Recognize your Creator.  Fight against the "if onlys."

Wonder

When our daughters were little we took them to Boston Children's Museum -- three floors of "touch everything" displays designed to stimulate and teach youngsters.  It was an exciting day filled with, "girls, look over here," and "let's go here," and "oh, try this out!"  Our two little ladies were overcome with the colors and hands-on activities.  They wanted to climb on and touch everything and go everywhere. 

In trying to make sure our family didn't miss anything, Jim and I devised an orderly strategy to move through the museum but our girls could not contain themselves and they would dart off to whatever caught their attention in any given moment.  I remember gathering up our youngest daughter and trying to explain to this wide-eyed toddler that we would see everything in the building but she needed to stay with us.  She shook her head in agreement and said, "Okay Mommy," the whole time eyeing the object of her next adventure.  As soon as Jim and I turned to look at a display that little one would run toward the newest thing to capture her imagination.  While we felt anxious in trying to keep our curious daughter safe, we enjoyed the unapologetic wonder she was displaying--sheer delight and amazement at what she was seeing and experiencing. 

These days I am not "darting" about through my daily life but I am experiencing wonder.  Looking through our family room windows, I have been watching a chipmunk (I affectionately named him Chippy) gather nuts for the winter.  For days he has run a circuit from his house in the rock to a tree somewhere and back with a nut to be added to his collection.  I have timed him and the whole cycle takes about two minutes and he does it for hours at a time and weeks at a time.  By my estimation, Chippy's diligence has probably resulted in hundreds and hundreds of nuts being stowed in his house in the clef of the rock.  How does that little creature know what to do to prepare for the cold season that is coming?

This week I noticed that our Christmas cactus has buds all over the plant and sure enough the first vibrant pink blossom opened today (I decided that it is a retail cactus because its starts Christmas on the first of November every year like all the retail stores).  How is it that I can count on that cactus blossoming the same time every year?

Recently Jim and I visited both of our daughters who are now grown and trained as artists.  In observing the work of their hands, we are in awe.  How did the creative spark that started in their minds result in such beautiful artistry?

I'm finding that experiencing wonder is delightfully unorganized and spontaneous.  And it's that spontaneity that allows us to step outside of our schedules and "have tos" to pursue serendipities with child-like wonder.  Don't miss the wonder!  It's all around you.

The Psalmist says, "Many, Lord my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you; were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare."