Tuesday With Teri

We’re fairly certain our porky little Yorkie, Hughie, is going deaf.   This diagnosis is, of course, unprofessional. We base our concern from the results of numerous “tests” we performed. ( i.e. clapping, shouting, whistling and snapping right behind him, with no response) At first, we thought he was just being obstinate and ignoring our calls or commands. Now we have to retrain ourselves.

I keep forgetting he can’t hear me. I cannot tell you the number of times I heard him barking and have called out from another room to get him to stop.(not that, that was a real effective technique when he could hear…but now it is totally a waste of words).

When Hughie needs to know we are there, for his comfort and care (remember I am his favorite and he CRAVES my presence) he has to be able to see us. Sometimes he will lay just beyond the room I am in, waiting for me.   He does not hear me in there already, I have to go get him.

When we want him to follow a direction, he has to be able to see us. This point was most evident the other day when Scott and I took him for a walk on the beach.   As we casually strolled one direction, we noticed Hughie heading the opposite direction. He was busy sniffing every pile of sea grass and clump of sea anemone that had washed ashore. We intended to walk to our left, which is shorter and easier for our pokey, porky Yorkie to manage. He was steadily plodding to our right, a longer and more obstacle filled direction.

We did, as we are accustomed to doing, what every “normal” dog owner would do, we called out his name. “Hughie!”, “Hughie! Come here boy, wrong way little buddy, come on we’re over here!” Nothing. No ear twitch or head turn, no acknowledgment of our efforts. He just kept plodding along with his head down. Then we remembered he could not hear us.

Scott had to catch up to him (not difficult since was only “plodding” along) and physically turn him around facing our direction. When he saw me, he immediately continued his plodding, only now he was plodding the correct way.

I outwardly sighed at the confirmation of our new reality.   Inwardly I cringed, as I considered how often my relationship with God is like ours with Hughie.

How often is God right there with me, but I am not aware because I do not see Him? How often does He call me and I do not hear Him, because I cannot see Him? How often does He have to redirect my path, because I have not kept my eyes on Him and strayed away?   I am reminded how important it is to keep my eyes on Jesus. When I do not, it is easy to not hear Him, follow, obey or find comfort in Him.

Today I praise God for His continued grace and mercy towards me. I pray when I feel He is not there, that He will make His presence known in an obvious way. I pray that as I learn to keep my eyes on Him I will not lose heart. I pray He will meet me when I am on the wrong path, pick me up, turn me around and lead me His way.

“Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you may not grow weary, and lose heart.” Hebrews 12:2&3

This mother’s day we were joined by our good friends, the Catindigs, for a day of kayaking.   Myself, my hubby, Pam, Troy and their daughters, Taylor and Haley launched 4 kayaks and a tandem kayak from behind our house and paddled into adventure!   This day will hence forth be known as the Great Mother’s Day Marsh Maze!

Our house backs up to an inlet off the Chesapeake, off this inlet are numerous water trails that snake though what is known as Salt Ponds/Marshes.   The weekend prior to this, while kayaking with Troy and Pam, we discovered a nice waterway that circled us back around to the house. We planned to repeat this journey on our Mother’s day endeavor….but it was not so easy.

We knew the direction we needed to paddle, and THOUGHT we remembered which of the many turns we should take to find our way home…..but this is where things got out of hand.   After paddling down one way for a while we found ourselves at a dead-end. Everyone turned around and we retraced our path and attempted to correct our mistake. We thought we were on the right path at last. We soon found ourselves scrapping the bottom of our kayaks on the VERY shallow/ oyster lined sea bed. After a bit of scootching( I know this is not a real word, but it is the best way to describe this particular Kayak technique) and using our paddles to shove off the ground, we turned back again to find deeper water.

We each took turns picking the next route. We could see just above the tall marsh grass, and knew we were close to where we needed to be, but seemed to be off just a bit each time. At one point our paddling took us behind a cluster of townhouses whose back decks overlooked the marsh. As we paddled by, I looked up and noticed a homeowner standing on their deck, no doubt entertained by our motley kayaking crew.   From his vantage point I suppose he could see which path would actually connect to the way out of the marsh. How funny we must have appeared as we maneuvered through the maze of marsh grass. It would have been nice if he would have yelled out a hint or two.  We eventually discovered the way home. It was a beautiful day and, even though we were lost for part of it, we enjoyed the journey

Today I am thinking of another kayaking adventure I once encountered. Years ago, Linmarie, the daughter of our good friends, and I took off into the great unknown in my tandem kayak. “The great unknown”, was nothing more than a tiny creek just off the Potomac where we had been boating. We were paddling along the shoreline when she saw the small creek heading inland….we HAD to explore it.

The tiny creek got increasingly tinier the further we went. Eventually the water was so shallow we became wedged in a bank of sludge/sand. The creek was too narrow for us to turn around, so backing the kayak up was our only exit option. Now, Linmarie was an experienced, collegiate, rower…so I had expectations for her abilities. This situation called for creative maneuvering and Linmarie had it under control! Yep, as I sat in the back and pushed off the side of the creek bank for all I was worth…Linmarie stood up, leaned over, and grabbing the bow of our kayak began to rock us back and forth! Mud and grass flew in every direction as we pried ourselves free. By the time we reemerged from the creek and back to the Potomac, seaweed and mud dangled from our hat brims and my sides hurt from all the laughing we did! This is forever one of my favorite memories of my time with Linmarie.

Linmarie battled an aggressive cancer this last year. Yesterday we learned she had found rest in the arms of her God. She was too young, it was too soon, it does not make sense, why her? Even as a Christian I find myself asking God those questions.   It is always a struggle when we see those we love suffer, or when life is unduly difficult, unfair or unjust. There are so many times in life when I just do not understand WHY things happen….then I consider our kayaking adventures.

Our vantage point in life is limited by our circumstances. God is like the man on his back deck overlooking the marsh. God sees the bigger picture, He is the bigger picture. Sometimes, when we seek to understand the way, purpose or pattern of life, God gives us peace, direction or understanding…..but sometimes He allows us to travel down various paths trusting He knows the way, even if we do not. We may get stuck or need to turn around from time to time. We may be frustrated by our lack of a better vantage point, or wish we had all the big picture in which to make our choices. But in all things we know God has a plan and purpose in all that He allows in our lives.

Sometimes in life we just keep paddling, knowing God’s plans are best. His love for us is beyond all understanding and His ways beyond our comprehension. Paddle each day confident in His love for us, His provision and His grace. He is beneath us, above us, beside us, in front of us and behind us. Even when I do not understand, I will trust in Him.  He is with us in our journey, keep paddling!

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

        I am my dog’s favorite. It’s true…just ask my hubby. Hughie, our porky little yorkie, is infatuated with me. Whenever I am home he is always by my side. When I am behind a closed door, he waits for me by the door…I can hear him sniffing under the door and whining for me.  When I am gone from the house, he will often wander around looking for me. No matter where he is, or whose lap he is on, when I sit down he will prefer my lap. He is perfectly content to sit on someone else’s lap, as long as he can still see me across the room.

I could go on forever with a long list of evidences that I am his favorite, so it is strikingly odd that there is any situation in which he would show preference to someone else, but he does. As a rule, we have never shared our bed with our dog. Somehow, this past year, we weakened and Hughie now thinks sleeping in our bed is an acceptable routine. It began with him innocently sleeping at the foot of our bed, but these days that is just where he starts his night.

Every night, not long after the lights are off, we hear him padding along the bedding on his way to Scott’s side of the bed. He roots, and scratches around until he has made a nice little nook against the back of Scott’s knees. Scott will feel the weight of the dog’s tiny torso against legs as Hughie curls into a tight little ball, lets out a burp/sigh and then proceeds to snore. Yep, apparently I am his favorite…EXCEPT when he wants to really find rest.   Last night we laughed as Hughie carried out his odd nightly routine, but I get it. Scott is warm, strong and unmoving as he sleeps. I understand why he would want to snuggle up to him for true rest.

We all desire a place to find true rest. There are times when we need shelter or an anchor from the world and its storms. When I am tired, when it is dark, when I have exhausted all my own strength, I seek out my unshakable, unwavering God.   I snuggle up to Him through His Word, surround myself with His creation, and relax in knowing His grace towards me.   There is nothing I desire more than to be near Him and know Him. In this I find true rest. He is my favorite.

“My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. For He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken. On God my salvation and glory rest; the rock of my strength, my refuge is in God…” (Psalm 62:5-7)

We moved in September of last year and have been fortunate to meet tons of new and wonderful people. It can be overwhelming. A new neighborhood, new church, new organizations we’re involved in, all mean we have exponentially increased the number of names and faces we wish to recall.   This has also increased the number of embarrassing moments.

I have lost count of the times I confidently walked up to one of the new folks in my life and said ”Hey there (insert wrong name here)”…only to be kindly corrected. Yep, hard to play that one off…”um, yeah, I knew your name was really (insert correct name here), I was just messing around”. Then there are the cringe worthy moments when the person I have incorrectly named does NOT correct me.  They attempt to save me from embarrassment by pretending I did not just misname them. Of course this is worse, since later in the day I may realize my error and have no way of reconciling things. This leads to an inevitable awkward conversation next time we meet, “Hey, sorry I called you by the wrong name all evening long last time we were together”.

I’m getting better, but I still need all my “new” people to be confined to a particular area/group. If I see a new neighbor at the grocery store, I may walk right past them. Whereas, if they were walking down my street, or at a neighborhood gathering, I would know them instantly. If one of the new folks we met through church happens to be dining at the same restaurant, I may not be able to immediately place them.  I need them in context.

This last Sunday our pastor spoke about an event which took place following the resurrection of Jesus. I found myself totally able to relate to the two disciples in this account. In Luke 24:13-35 we find two men on their way to Emmaus, just outside of Jerusalem. They were deep in conversation about things like Jesus arriving into Jerusalem to great fanfare, His captivity and torture, crucifixion and burial. It had been a rather eventful week. These guys were so caught up in their conversations they barely noticed when another man joined them on their walk. Jesus Himself began to travel alongside them, but “their eyes were prevented from recognizing Him” vs.16

They even went so far as to sort of make fun of Jesus! In verse 18, after Jesus asked them what they were talking about they replied, “…Are You the ONLY one visiting Jerusalem and unaware of the things which have happened here in these days?” They practically asked Him, “What rock have you been hiding under that you do not know what happened?!”  Pretty ironic right?

.My favorite part is when they realized it was Jesus. You see, like me, they needed context.  “And it came about that when He had reclined at the table with them He took bread and blessed it, and breaking it, He began giving it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized Him…”vs 30 Yep, walking on a dirt road they did not place Him, but as soon as they saw Him in the familiar position of dinner host and bread breaker it became crystal clear. They even seemed a bit embarrassed and tried to play it off saying, “Where not our hearts burning within us while He was speaking to us on the road…..?”vs 32     But I get it. Sadly, I get it.  I wonder if I would have recognized Jesus?

It is easy to see Jesus in places like church or among other believers. When I am in crisis and on my knees in desperation and prayer, it is easy to see the hand of God working in my life. But what about the times my God shows up out of context? As I walk through my life I do not want to miss my Jesus. I want to see Him, recognize Him and listen to Him.

I want to expect to see Jesus in any and every part of my life.  His “context” is everywhere and anytime.  Let us continually seek a close relationship with Him, break bread with Him, know Him, through His Word and the Holy Spirit that we may find ourselves always aware of our traveling companion and Lord. 

We will recognize Him when we see Him in CONTEXT, the context of our life.

This is an event that forever changed my Easters and I feel lead to share it every year with anyone who will listen. 

Happy Easter my friends, and may you know this day, and all your days, just how much God loves you!

          I’ve lost track of how many years ago it was, yet each Spring I can’t help but recall my introduction to Abigail.  I was a high school science/Bible teacher for a small Christian school at the time. One of my students was a football sized young man named Nick.  He worked for a local farmer who had offered him a young lamb to take home.  Nick’s mom, apparently destined for sainthood, not only allowed him to bring the lamb home, but he got to keep it in his room!  Early that Spring Nick brought photos to share.  To my amazement, there, wedged beside his bed and amid typical teenage squalor, was a carefully built pen, complete with wood rails, chicken wire and hay.  Abigail the lamb had found a perfect home.  Over the next few weeks Nick would have numerous stories to tell of Abigail’s antics.  I couldn’t wait to see her for myself, so I invited Nick to bring her to school one morning.

I ushered my entire class outside and we waited like giddy preschoolers for Abigail’s arrival.  I am certain I will never be able to adequately describe what I saw that day.  I will do my best.  We watched as Nick emerged from his vehicle with Abigail cradled in his big burly arms.  We stood transfixed by the sight of what can only be inadequately referred to as “precious”.  Her pure, white coat seemed almost translucent, radiating light under the bright blue, cloudless sky.   Her tiny nose was a perfect, pink velvet triangle perched just above her little pink mouth.    As I placed my hand on her sweet little head she looked at me.  I found myself staring into the depths of clear, brilliant blue eyes.  I realized I had been holding my breath in awe.  We were expecting to see a cute lamb, somewhat off white in color.  I had not considered that, unlike the lambs at the local petting zoo, Abigail had been living in a clean, loving, environment.  After everyone had made Abigail’s acquaintance, Nick left to return her home and we settled back into Bible class.

We soon realized the relevance of Abigail’s visit as we continued our study of Passover.  The original Passover took place when Moses was leading the Israelites out of Egypt.  God instructed them to mark their door post with the blood of a male lamb.  This was to protect them from the final plague which was the death of all first born in any home not so protected. (Exodus 11&12)  The yearly commemoration of this event required the father to select the best, blemish free lamb and set it apart for the Passover…four days prior to the celebration.  My students and I began to consider something quite startling.  There was a good chance that the lamb would have been brought into the house or yard during that time.

This perfect little lamb, probably as precious and sweet as our Abigail, may have clamored under their feet while they did chores, fed out of their hands and shared a living area.  After four days, this lamb, which by now had become even more precious to the family, was to be sacrificed.   Suddenly one can imagine the cries of the children, the quite sob of their mother, the sorrow in the eyes of the father who knows a blood sacrifice is required.   For the first time, since meeting Abigail, we could truly envision the “sacrificial lamb” of the Scriptures.

The continued observance of Passover was a powerful object lesson for generations of Israelites.  Every family member would be reminded not only of God’s protection and provision when He freed them from slavery, but also of the cost…the blood of their most precious lamb.  This Easter we consider the final sacrifice.  Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, perfect and precious beyond description, was sacrificed for our sin.  Many movies and videos have stirred the heart of man as they depict the brutal crucifixion of our Christ, yet none can compare to the vision of Abigail.  As we celebrate our freedom from sin and death through the resurrection of our Lord, let’s never forget the cost.  Praise God His love and grace make us worthy of such a sacrifice!

1 Peter 1:18-19  “knowing that you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold…but with precious blood, as a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ.”

I was a new employee for a relocation company. We worked with local apartment communities to set up short term, furnished units. It was my job to meet with apartment managers and convince them to use our furniture rentals. Back then no one had camera phones. I am torn between wishing there was an image and being thankful there is no lingering evidence of this awkward moment.   The event is forever ingrained in my memory regardless.

Because I was still in training, my manager accompanied me to several of my visits to apartment management offices.   One particular apartment community was nestled in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia. The buildings definitely fit the “old” aspect of Old Town. What were once some sort of row house, were converted into apartments and condos. The management office was on the first floor of the brick, colonial structure.

       As my manager and I entered the dimly lit office the first thing I noticed were the floors. They were beautiful parquet, stained by obvious years of use and moisture. They looked antique and fit nicely with the very traditional burgundy and green hunt club décor, popular for the area and time. I was dressed for success in my black pumps and KELLY green suit jacket and skirt. (It was my “power suit” and yes, SOMEONE should have stopped me from wearing it in public, but that is another story)   I felt confident as I teetered toward the property manager on my high heels and introduced myself.

       Things were going great. I had established a comfortable report with the manager, and was about to begin my sales pitch, when, mid-sentence and stride, I found my foot stuck. Apparently the weathered floors in the office had given way to the spiked heel of my fashionable black pumps. I glanced down in horror. My entire right heel disappeared into a tiny little hole.   I tried to pull my foot up, but it was stuck. I looked up, ready to apologize profusely, when it occurred to me, nobody else in the room knew what happened.   My manager was focused on our prospective client, and the prospective client sat behind a large desk. There I was, one heel firmly planted and unmovable, trying to pretend nothing had happened. I continued to talk and pitch my product and services all while simply pivoting around my stuck heel. When I had finished my pitch, and thankfully before I was going to need to move forward and hand him our material, he received a call and had to step out for a moment.

Here is what you NEVER want to say to your new boss, “PSSST, my foot is stuck in the floor!”   I will never forget the look in her eyes as she surveyed the situation.   I actually saw her various mood changes all within a few seconds….disbelieving, incredulous, and then panicked. I took my foot out of my shoe and she and I both began to frantically tug on it.   It was like scene out of “I Love Lucy”.    I know it was only a few minutes, but it felt like we worked on that stupid shoe for hours. She and I both had worked up a sweat before the heel sprung free. I was barely able to stay upright as the release set me off balance. I quickly put my shoe back on while my boss surveyed the damage. I am embarrassed to admit, our solution to the problem involved pulling a nearby rug over the small hole. The property manager returned just as we were finished with our recovery effort.

You will be happy to hear I have never found myself stuck like that since, but I cannot say I have been “stuck free”.   I have indeed been seemingly, hopelessly, stuck in life… discouraged, adrift.

I may appear to be moving, pivoting in place, but I am not moving forward. I settle instead of seek. I sit instead of search. I become immovable….missing what God has for me, just STUCK.

I have been reminded this last week of a very effective way to become unstuck. PERSPECTIVE. Perspective will sometimes not only un-stick you, it will throw you against the wall and completely realign all you do.

Our dear friend’s  daughter is fighting the final battles against her war with cancer.  After chemo and surgery, they thought she had overcome the devastating tumor that attacked her body. Unexpectedly, it has returned and is not operable.   She and her husband, alongside their family and friends, are courageously facing their continuing journey, treasuring every minute, every day, mindful of each breath.  I see her great smile, hear echoes of the many times we heard her belt out karaoke, her bellowing laughter, quick wit, honesty, faith and passion for life, family and friends and I am humbled.   They now face each day knowing there is not a guaranty of time.  It is not lost on me that none of us face each day with a guaranty of time.

My perspective is rattled to the core.  I am UNSTUCK.

“Every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”

Romans 8:28(MSG)

It was the sort of story told with a bit of a laugh, because crying is just not going to help. A friend was sharing about an incident she experienced when she took her 95 year old mother shopping for clothes. Her mom’s mind is not as keen as it once was, and I know it is often difficult for her to be reminded of this when they face situations together. As she escorted her into the dressing room, her mom was startled by her own reflection.   “Who is that lady, and what is she doing in here?” she asked.   She then went on to complain about how rude it was for “that stranger” to be in there and, in an effort to understand where “she” came from, peered behind the full length mirror. “Momma, that’s you” my friend replied. Her mom was reluctant to accept this truth and continued to try a get the “other lady” to leave. After a lively debate about the “other lady” she eventually accepted her reflection.

I was immediately struck by how easily I understood the mindset of her elderly mother. While I have not looked for the stranger behind a dressing room’s full length mirror….I HAVE certainly been startled by her appearance. I have stood alone in a dressing room, unable to ignore my full refection. “Who is that woman? When did she get here? What happened to the woman who used to look back at me from the mirror?” I ask myself. The “other lady” looking out at me from the mirror can sometimes be discouraging.

My honest reflection is useful. I can use it to adjust my attire, fix my appearance and even find impetus and encouragement in achieving health goals. My reflection can also be a source of self-criticism. Sometimes, as women especially, we see our reflection and focus on the way the world sees us. Instead of seeing the ME God created and continues to form, I see my faults and weaknesses.

As I stand before the dressing room mirror, I can almost picture it….Satan hurling criticisms at me, each thought tossed atop me, like a discarded undergarment, weighing me down, until the pile completely encumbers me.

I call these lies the “discarded UNdergarments”, you may recognize them:

“I am UNworthy”

“I am UNacceptable”

“I am UNsuccessful”

“I am UNinspiring”

“I am UNfullfilled”

In Christ, these are all “UNtrue”. In Him and by His grace I am worthy, acceptable, successful, inspiring, fulfilled….

Today, I am reminded and challenged to appreciate the “other lady” in the mirror. She is not a stranger, nor is she evidence of all that is wrong with me…no, that unexpected reflection before me is a testament to the grace of God.

Through her faith in God, that Jesus is His son, that He died for her sins and rose from death…in this, she has eternal forgiveness of her sins. She is imperfect, yet through Him made whole. She is weak, yet in Him made strong. She is not without hope. That “other lady” is more than a reflection of my fallible flesh.

Every day, let us throw off the lies that discourage and distract us. Each time we see our reflection, may we see ourselves as God sees us….forgiven and full of His grace.

“While we look not at things which are seen, but at things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:18

       The other day I had an unusual amount of bird activity just above my back deck.   At first, I thought, “Oh, look at those amazing seagulls, floating effortlessly over the back yard”, then I realized there were WAY TOO MANY of those “amazing seagulls”.  I stepped out onto my back deck and was nearly overwhelmed by what can best be described as a scene from Hitchcock’s The Birds.  Well over 30 seagulls hovered above our yard. There was also an inordinate number of ravens resting on any horizontal surface near the house…just our house, not the neighbors! All of them were squealing and cawing above the wind.  It was eerie, and definitely needed investigation.

       I surmised that the lid to our garbage can had been lifted by the wind, perhaps they were getting food scraps.   I went downstairs and was surprised to find the lid to our trash securely in the close position.  Mysteriously, the ground around the garbage can was littered with cereal crumbs.  I opened the garbage can, it was not even half full, and yet one of the bags had been torn open.  It was odd that the only thing which had been dug out from the bag, and onto the ground, was the remains of some old cereal.  Everything else the trash bag held was undisturbed. 

       I stood transfixed for a bit, trying to imagine how the scene played out.  How could the contents get strewn about when the lid was not open?  How did the birds, without opposable thumbs, manage to expertly lift the lid, removed a specific food, then reclose it?   As I swept up the remaining food debris, the birds slowly left our abode.  By the time the last of it was cleaned off the ground not a single bird remained in sight.

       My current theory, the one that lets me sleep at night without imagining a more sinister possibility involving large animals, is that the lid was blown open by the wind earlier in the day.  When the birds began to forage inside for treats, they must have inadvertently knocked it closed again.

       Still, it was an odd event…and one that has changed my method of handling our trash cans.   These days you will always find a heavy rock on top of our trash can…in case of strong winds or industrious birds.  

       So often as a Christian I have heard of rocks in reference to a good and strong “foundation”.    In scriptures, obedience is likened to a house built on a “rock” foundation…strong and sure.  Jesus called one of His disciples Peter,(Petros:rock).  Jesus even referenced rocks when speaking of divine revelation, and profession of faith in Christ when he said “…upon this rock I will build my church.”

       In my mind, I relegated “rocks” to being something I need under my feet.  It is true, rocks are a good and solid base for building, and a must for anchoring, but what about the “lids” in life?   I have carefully built on a foundation.  I have studied the Bible and attended church.  I love God and am thankful He forgives me, all I am is due to His abundant GRACE.  BUT….when I think about it, I think I tend to keep that all under my feet.  This may be good, but is it enough?

       How easily does the world lift open my mind.  How much do I neglect the keeping of all that is within my heart?  How easily do I allow my peace, joy, and hope to be sifted through and scattered?   I think we need “a rock on top”.    How do we secure our heart and mind?   By relying on His Word and fellowship with those who share our faith.  God’s Word is our “rock on top”.    It keeps us steady, strong and encouraged.  

“Let the Word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with faithfulness in your hearts to God.” Colossians 3:16

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart Be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my rock and my sedeemer.” Psalm 19:14

This is our fourth advent post prior to Christmas.  Each week leading up to Christmas, we take the time to focus on the real reason for our merriment.  While we mark the days for the coming of Christmas, we also recall the coming of our Savior. Today, we consider LOVE.

           I had just given our dog a very nice bone from a roast.  This is a rare treat so I had forgotten how painfully pititful it would become.  You see, my porky little Yorkie, Hughie, has a funny way of dealing with new bones.  When we give him a new bone, especially if it is a big one, he frets.  Yes, I think that is the best word to describe it…”fret”.  It is decidedly sad and indescribably pitiful.

          The first time it occurred, I felt awful.  I had gleefully placed an extra fine bone, wrapped in chicken jerky even, at his feet.  I thought he’d scamper off in delight, hunker down on a nearby rug, and enjoy chewing it.  That is what NORMAL dogs do, right?  Well, my “not so normal” Yorky, instead took the oversized bone in his mouth and proceeded to pace around the room emitting a heartbreaking, crying sound.  It was a combination of whining and whimpering.  No amount of consoling tones seemed to help.  He insisted on carrying it around from room to room as if he was in agony.   Eventually, after numerous attempts to bury and unbury it in rugs or blankets, and after easily 10 minutes of pacing around the house, he would settle down and timidly begin to enjoy it.

          I gave him something extra special and he acted as if I had placed undue burden on him.  He whined, whimpered and wagged his nub of a tail as if he were being hurt or neglected.  Instead of feeling like a benevolent dog owner, I felt like I was being cruel.   It truly is a most absurd, pitiful sight to behold.

          I followed him around the house, listening to his cries, trying to lift him up onto the sofa so he could “bury” the bone.  It was not until later, much later, that I found him nibbling on it peacefully.  Sigh, it is a shame when a gift seems more like a burden.

           Hughie’s sad response to his bone immediately came to mind as I read the verse for today’s advent post.   

“ By this the love of God was manifested in us, that God sent His only begotten Son into the world so that we might live through Him.  In this is LOVE, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation (cancelation) for our sin.”  (1John 4:9-10)

God’s love for us is not to be a burden, it is a gift.  How often do we let ourselves be concerned with the notion that we need to earn God’s love, or that acceptance of His love means we have to work at being worthy.  I “fret” about being loved and feel guilty for my lack of worth.  God’s love to us is full of grace, an undeserved gift.  When we allow ourselves to accept His gift of Love, let it fill our hearts and life, THEN we will know His HOPE, feel His PEACE, and share His JOY…. I do not have to be perfect for I am perfected in His love.

This week, no more “fretting”, it is time to settle down and fully take in God’s love.  Grab this truth, hunker down, chew on it, and enjoy it…the great Christmas Gift….GOD loves you!

 * Please look for the reposting of “The Christmas Tree Angel”  this Christmas Eve….I hope it continues to be an encouragement and reminder of His love for you, as it is for me each year.  May God Bless you all with sweet times with loved ones and days filled with laughter and rest.