The Father

Twenty-five years ago this past Christmas Jim and I were anxiously awaiting the birth of our first child.  Our baby girl was due and we were ready to meet her.  (We were also enjoying the idea that it was Christmas and we were relating to another young couple in a new way.)

Christmas came and went but no baby.  New Year's Eve and came and went without a baby (there went Jim's tax deduction).  Little Christmas, as my Armenian Grandma called it, came and went with no baby.  On about January tenth I told Jim, "I think this child has subscribed to Better Womb and Garden and has taken up permanent residency."  As we went to yet another doctor's appointment that same week, we were convinced that this baby was never going to come.

The doctor checked everything out and said it was all good so we settled in to wait some more.  Then on Saturday evening, the phone rang.  It was our doctor.  "You know, I've been thinking and talking with some other doctors at University Hospital.  It is our thought that since the baby is not in distress we should induce labor and help this baby along.  I would like you to come to the hospital tomorrow morning and we will have a baby!" 

This new development caught us off guard and Jim was scrambling because he not only had to preach the next morning but it was annual meeting day and he needed to chair the congregational meeting.  The doctor assured us that it was not a problem.  If I could get a ride to the hospital, we would get things prepped and by the time Jim got there we would be ready to go and have our baby.  That is exactly how it happened.  A nurse friend took me to the hospital with all my gear and Jim went off to church. ( He said he conducted the shortest annual meeting on record.)  As soon as he could, he hopped in the car with everyone's good wishes and prayers and drove the half-hour ride to our wonderful little country hospital.  I was so glad to see him!!

Labor kicked in and we tried to remember all the things we learned in our birthing classes.  "Hee hee hoo;  hee hee hoo."  The hours passed and the sun went down and we were still laboring but then the moment came when the nurse said, "Ok, it's time to push."  There was a flurry of activity and the doctor was called and now there was no more chatting, or joking.  It was all business.  We were having a baby!

Abigail Rose arrived at 10:35 on January fifteen.  She was perfect and beautiful.  The nurse wrapped the baby in a pastel striped receiving blanket and put a stretchy pink hat on her head.  She lifted our daughter over the bed rail right up next to my cheek so I could see her and touch her soft newborn skin.  Our first family picture was taken and then the nurse said to Jim, "Would you like to take the baby to the nursery?"  "Would I?!"  Jim cradled that precious bundle in his arms and headed down the hall where they were waiting for the baby.  I swear that the second he took Abby in his arms his feet raised six inches off the floor and he floated all the way to the nursery. 

Remembering that wonderful evening makes me think of one of my favorite passages in God's Word.  Isaiah chapter forty-six and verses three and four say:

“Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob,
    all the remnant of the people of Israel,
you whom I have upheld since your birth,
    and have carried since you were born.
Even to your old age and gray hairs
    I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
    I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

 

Can you not see God, the Father, carrying you, taking delight in you and protecting you as though you were His most treasured child?  Do you not take great comfort in the idea that he not only loves you as a little child but he loves you throughout your entire life even into old age.  He will carry you and sustain you and rescue you.

The Mine Field

Our tour bus was traveling north through Israel's Golan Heights.  It was the first time we had seen green fields and orchards on our trip.  As we enjoyed the view, our guide explained to us that this land was fertile and had the potential to produce wonderful crops.  There was just one problem.  The Golan Heights was a highly disputed piece of land in Israel.   Wars had been fought over this territory.  So in an attempt to make the Heights undesirable to the opposition, the land had been heavily mined.
After giving us that bit of information, our guide invited us to get off the bus for pictures if we were interested but before we deboarded he strongly warned us, "do not step off the road."  Jim and I did climb off the bus but standing on the pavement I had an ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I did not like knowing that we were just feet away from grave danger.  The signs all along the road only reinforced the feeling.  "Danger Mines!"

Danny, our tour leader, went on to explain that the military had maps showing where the mines were but because it was uncertain as to who would end up with the land, the government would not pay the hundreds of thousands of dollars to clear the mines and reclaim the beautiful, rich acreage.

As I thought back on this event, it reminded me of one of my favorite scriptures,  "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8

This week I learned that I have yet another physical set-back (the latest "mine," if you will, in the landscape of my health) which will require an invasive procedure to determine what is happening in my body.  In the midst of this latest news, I began to look for any place that I could find peace and a respite from the anxiety that has been washing over me.  The Deuteronomy verse came to my mind.  The Lord is going to go before me.  He has the map of my life and He will clear the way to take me through this most recent event safely without fear and discouragement.   He will never leave me alone on the road.  And because of that, I am choosing to have hope.

The Whisper

 

When my girls were young, we would sit in church and I would feel a tug on my sleeve. I would bend down and tilt my head toward my little one in her Sunday dress and black patent leather shoes as she whispered a question or request in my ear, "Mommy, when can we eat?" or "Do you have a pencil?" or "I need a tissue, Mom."

I also think of a time when Jim and I were at a solemn event and something tickled my husband. Before he ever got a chance to say anything to me, I knew what he was up to and I wouldn't make eye contact with him but it was too late. His whispered "one-liner" got the best of me and I melted into uncontrollable silent laughter. My shoulders were shaking and I was holding my breath and biting my cheek so as to not burst out during the very serious service.

And then there are the times when we whisper, "I love you"--that wonderful, intimate, life-giving phrase.

In the Bible, there is an account of a man named Elijah. He was a truth teller and the evil king and queen of his day wanted to do away with him. He ran for his life and hid in a cave. After sleeping and eating, Elijah was instructed that God was going to come and that he should look for Him.

It's recorded that, "a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks," but the Lord was not in the wind.  Then the scripture says, "there was an earthquake," but the Lord was not in the earthquake.  Next "came a fire" but the Lord was not in the fire.  "And after the fire came a gentle whisper."  The Lord was in the whisper.  The presence of God was so palpable that Elijah covered his face.

How many times have I looked for God to show up in a big, power-filled way?  "Please be obvious," I pray. How many times have I missed the wonderful sweet intimacy of the "whisper."  Whispers correct and instruct without embarrassment.  Whispers share one-on-one tenderness.  Whispers signal, "I am yours and you are mine."  Whispers say, "I love you."

In the Old Testament, Isaiah writes, "Give ear and come to me;   listen, that you may live."   My paraphrase of those words is, "tilt your head toward me and listen real carefully;  I have life-giving words to tell you."  God is in the whisper.

The Baby Shower

When I was pregnant with our first daughter I was graciously given a couple of baby showers.   Ladies gathered, their hair done up pretty, splashed with pleasant floral smelling perfumes and dressed in pretty clothes with matching shiny bobbles.  The kind women came carrying gifts wrapped in paper printed with pastel blue, yellow and green bows and little baby footprints on it.  Tiny sandwiches and pink punch was served and then it was time for the main event -- unwrapping the big pile of gifts.

Oohs and aahs accompanied each revelation of what was in a box.  The older ladies said things like, "boy they didn't have that when my kids were born." (I now find myself in that category.)  Itty bitty dresses, shoes, onesies, receiving blankets, and hooded bath towels were neatly folded and put in a pile to be loaded up by my husband at the end of the shower.

Illustration by Julie Vivas in "The Nativity"

Among all the sweet baby things I received, someone gave me a gift I treasure to this day.  Our baby was due around Christmas time and I received a book titled, "The Nativity," illustrated by Julie Vivas.  This talented, whimsical artist showed a fresh view of the birth of Jesus.  One of my favorite pictures in the book is the shepherds peeking over the edge of the manger looking at the newborn baby.

When Jesus came, it was rough sheep herding men who were invited to the be the first visitors.  There were no baths and pretty clothes, no lotions to soften up those weathered hands.  There were no beautifully wrapped presents to welcome the baby and no cameras to record the infant's first moments, just awe and adoration. 

Isn't that the story of Christmas?-- a savior who was born under modest circumstances;  a savior who came for all people;  a savior who invites us to come as we are--rough, untidy, unkempt;  a savior who requires no gifts from us but instead gives us his gift of everlasting love.

Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angels' voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born.

The Christmas Ball

Long before Photo Booth came on the scene to stretch and twist and jumble pictures, there were toasters, coffee pots, spoons and Christmas balls.  Hours of fun and entertainment have been had by youngsters staring into appliances and making faces that were returned as distorted images. 

My husband, Jim, was the youngest of five children and it seemed that his primary role in the family was to "entertain the troops."  Jim's Mom would get a little grin as she described how "Jimmy" would spend dinner staring into the coffee percolator making crazy faces that reflected back all wonky, yes wonky--the official term.   Depending on the angle, Jim's face looked a mile wide or endlessly long.  He stuck out his tongue, flattened his nose, or crossed his eyes, all with hilarious results that set his siblings into rumbles of laughter.

This year our church youth group came and decorated our Christmas tree.  The young people hung dozens of Christmas stars they had made on the tree.  They also added red and silver balls which beautifully reflected the little white lights covering the tree's branches. 

Yesterday I heard one of the balls go clunk and then I could hear the ball rolling all over our old wooden floors.  The cat had discovered a "toy" (good thing it was shatterproof) and he was having a grand old time chasing the silver ornament all over the living room and dining room.

When the noise stopped, I went to see what Teddy had been doing.  I picked up his adopted toy to return it to its rightful place on the tree.  As I lifted the ball, I caught sight of my own reflection.  "Boy, by the looks of things, I'm having a really bad day," I thought.  "Could my face be any fatter?"  "Could I be more jumbled?"  Then as I lifted the shiny ornament farther away from me, my image began to improve and I looked more normal (well as normal goes). 

That brief action sent my mind to a verse in the New Testament book of 1 Corinthians.
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12

Often when we are in the midst of difficult situations, we have distorted perceptions of what is happening.  We are too close to the circumstances.  But as time and distance settle in, we begin to get clarity.  The 1 Corinthians verse promises that only in God's presence in eternity will we have full understanding--all distortion and limitations will be lifted.  Our reflections will be true.

The Christmas Visit

The second year Jim was in seminary, we made the sad decision that we could not afford to travel back to be with our Ohio family for Christmas.  Jim mustered up the courage to call his mom and break the news that for the first time in our married life we would not be together over the holidays.  We all felt the sadness of us growing up and having to make sensible decisions.

At the same time we were coming to terms with our holiday plans, my father was rushed to the hospital and put in the Intensive Care Unit.  For the days before Christmas, we were on a roller coaster, wondering if Dad was going to pull through.  As soon as Jim's seminary work was complete for the semester, we traveled to New Jersey and spent hours at the hospital praying and hoping that my father would turn the corner and that he would be able to go home for Christmas, though that was not likely. 

While sitting in the hospital waiting room, Jim and I began to dream out loud.  "Wish we could go home to Ohio...we are already part way there," Jim confessed.  "I know," I said, "wouldn't it be so great to surprise them?"   We really wanted to see all our loved ones and eat Mom's roast beef, Swiss corn bake, and her homemade pumpkin pie.  We wanted to overindulge in Jim sister's assortment of handmade candies.  Jim longed to roll around with his nephew under the giant Christmas tree strung with huge red, green, yellow, and blue light bulbs.  We wished we could join his family members in serving Christmas dinner and handing out gifts to all the men that came to the Rescue Mission Jim's Dad directed.

We must have let the cat out of the bag that that was what we were thinking.  Somehow my Mom got wind of our wishes.  I guess she realized that she was not going to be home for a traditional Christmas that year and when Dad began to rally on Christmas Eve, she said, "Go to Ohio.  We'll be ok."  "Are you sure, Mom?"  "Yes, go!," she insisted.

So early in the evening, we packed up our little black dog and our suitcases and in our Dodge Dart set out to cross "the agonizing expanse" as Jim called Pennsylvania.  We drove with such joy and determination because we knew that no one expected us to pull in early on Christmas morning.  It was going to be great!!  Our adrenalin was pumping and the lack of sleep didn't seem to even enter the picture.  Driving up and down the mountains in the dark was not the easiest thing we've ever done but we did not notice because we were so wound up with excitement that we chattered away the whole ten hour trip. 

Finally at five in the morning, we pulled into "3-2-9" as we called Jim's childhood home (329 North Central Avenue).  We knew Dad would be up and so we banged on the back door until he came and unlocked the door and let us in.  Oh that astonished look of surprise on his face was worth all 500 miles we had just traveled to get home.

Once in the house, we sent Christy, our dog, upstairs to wake up Grandma.  "Christy, go get Grandma;  go on."  Christy took off running--up two flights of stairs and down the long hallway to Jim's parents' bedroom.  The next sound we heard was a delighted squeal and Jim's mom's footsteps as she raced down the stairs to see if it was true...we were really there.

Isn't this story a picture of Christmas?  Jesus so loved us that he wanted nothing more than to be with us.  He sacrificed his comforts and crossed the great expanse of time and eternity.  He entered this dark world unbeknown to most people.  But He came bringing "good news that will cause great joy for all the people."

"This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him."  1 John 4:9

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.”