Small Signs of God - The Visitor

I regretted being away when the phone call came. My daughter called laughing, "There's a bird in our house. What do I do?" After instructions were given for shooing the feathered friend back to his habitat, I called back a few minutes later to check the status and inquired, "What kind of bird was it?" She said, "It was a cardinal, Mom." Stunned, I hung up the phone. Stunned and pleased that the shy, quiet red bird came close enough to my door to enter, sit on the arm of my sofa, circle the room and exit gracefully.
For sixteen months I observed the movement of cardinals. I watched the rhythm of life outside my window move through the seasons while inside life stood still. Always, there would be a cardinal to cheer me, to offer solace and hope. Each time they would visit a tree branch or the feeder, some message would come forth and I would write my thoughts:
November 2007
There is a canvas outside our living room window that Fall has painted. The river birch leaves are the color of mustard and closer to the window a holly loaded with red berries. As Megan and I view our “painting” it comes to life with a bright red cardinal, working among the berries in the holly tree. I wish I knew more about birds, but I do know that the cardinal spends the winters here in Atlanta. Yesterday, there must have been 1000 birds overhead, fleeing for the winter. Other birds, like robins, sort of stay around, but hide themselves. I always felt bad for the robin, remembering the child’s verse, “The North Wind will blow, and we shall have snow, and what will the Robin do then – poor thing? He’ll sit in the barn, to keep himself warm, and hide his head under his wing – poor thing!”
Could the winter habits of birds be teaching me something about suffering? Warren Wiersbe says that in suffering we tend to fall into three categories of coping. We can escape – flee when the cold winds come. We can endure – hide ourselves under our wings – poor things! Or we can enlist – find an evergreen loaded with nourishment to shelter us from the storm. We, unlike birds, have a choice.
I will choose the cardinal this winter. Escaping is out of the question, enduring is drudgery, but enlisting is taking the winter on, finding the bright, red berries in the cold, singing when the wind blows cold, and trusting that Spring will certainly come. I am not surprised at wonderful and amazing God – He not only gives the wintering cardinal the instinct to nest in the protected denseness of the holly, but also provides food right outside the door of his nest and places it all for us to view. How much more does he provide for us? As the song says, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me."
For a cardinal to actually come into my house was, for me, a visit out of the ordinary. Maybe you have had such a visit. Others had those visits. Isaiah was visited by God's counsel 700 years before the birth of Jesus. He must have been so profoundly moved by his vision he wrote in Isaiah 9:6, "For a child has been born for us." Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and wise men all had visits out of the ordinary. But the smallest visit to earth was Jesus himself - a tiny, out-of-the-ordinary child who came for us. And He still calls us today, saying, "Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me." Revelation 3:20
I open my door today with hope - even in the cold - and invite Him in.

Small Signs

I am almost a week into my Advent readings, but the words from the first day replay in my mind:
"I keep expecting loud and impressive events to convince me and others of God's saving power....Our temptation is to be distracted by them....When I have no eyes for the small signs of God's presence.... I will always remain tempted to despair." (Henri J.M. Nouwen, Gracias! A Latin American Journal)
Loud and impressive events call our name - especially from the Thanksgiving holidays until we greet the New Year. Why is that? We attend concerts , home tours, light displays and parties. We celebrate at church with extra events, musicals and services. We plan outings and shopping sprees before dawn ( I only did that once.) We look around to see if we could just add one more "touch" to our already decorated home.
We don't mean to be attracted to the loud and impressive but we are. I just returned from a visit to the largest private home in North America - the beautiful Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. Wowed by the decorations and number of Christmas trees, I came home convinced that I, too, should have something festive in all my rooms - well, until I started upstairs to the bedrooms and realized my boxes were empty. Maybe, I thought, I could just add a small touch to each room--a vase of evergreens in my own, the Christmas "Joy" pillow in one daughter's chair, the outgrown Nutcrackers guarding my son's dresser and a stuffed Frosty The Snowman snuggling on another child's bed. All small signs of the season I love. All small signs of this season of joy - anticipating and waiting for the celebration of Christ's arrival in Bethlehem.
Do you have eyes for the small signs of Jesus this Christmas? My devotional challenged me to see one small sign every day that God is present in my life. Today it was a friend who asked me to pray with her. We sat by her fire and thanked and requested and praised - and wondered about the small child who grew up and changed eternity, and then changed us. Quiet and unimpressive to the world, this small sign of eternity went quietly about the business of his life and I am the recipient of that wondrous love.

The small sign comes again to all of us. Where do you see Him?

Grateful Hearts

Yesterday I bought the ingredients for my family's Thanksgiving dinner. I laughed with the checkout man saying, "I won't be back, Eddie! I am totally together this year." He looked over his glasses with the look that said, "Oh, if I know you, you will be back tomorrow." While I already know that garbage bags and sliced almonds are on the new list, the big things are done. The turkey is resting, feeling like he has a special place in our midst. The cranberries are bought, waiting to pop, thicken and tantalize. The pumpkin and pecans are waiting on the shelf to be beckoned forth for the dueling pie fest. Just like the flavors that all come together every Thanksgiving, we come together too, rallying our gratitude, expressing our thanks to others and to God for our many blessings. Naming them one by one, as the song goes, is a good exercise. Giving words to your heart feelings is a good thing - it is when we really live. Like Thorton Wilder reminds us, "We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures."

The card shop has tiny "grateful" cards to help us be conscious of our treasures.. You can't write much on that card. I wonder if some people could even fill the space. Could I? Some of us have been listing five things every day for which we are grateful. Try it. Let's see. 1-a husband who likes to cook; 2-adult children who come around often; 3 - sisters and a brother who stay in touch across the miles; 4 - a cardinal outside my window; 5- a new book started that has captured me in a few pages. There. But I also loves the way Anne Voskamp lists her gifts of praise: sun pouring through the red leaves; crisp air; fleece robes; a mailman's wave; God's presence, a heart full, praise in my soul, life worth living. You can do this!

Praise and thanksgiving should be a regular part of our life, not just as the calendar that looks toward the last Thursday in November. When it becomes part of our daily life, it's much easier to look around and see all of the gifts. But the gratitude comes from the state of our heart and must be cultivated, nurtured and developed. You don't just get up one day and feel grateful. So how is your heart today? Is it being fed by Godly purposes? Or is your own understanding in charge of your heart?

Proverbs 3:5 says Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not on your own understanding. Two powers are at work here. The mind gathers knowledge and prepares food for nourishing the heart. So what kind of knowledge is being gathered in your mind - if your heart feels empty, it may be because you haven't fed it with God's word or spent time alone with Him to fill your heart with His thoughts. The verse says first to trust God with your heart. Then it say to not depend on your own ability. Trust first, then work out the understanding.

Scripture instructs in I Chronicles 16 to simply give thanks to God. It teaches that true thanksgiving comes by: remembering in our hearts what God has done, telling others about it, showing it, and offering gifts of praise. In other words, let it be known. Theodore Roosevelt said it well: Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds.

Learning to Live Again

Yesterday I attended a benefit where the goal of the organization is to mend broken hearts. The various ways the mending is accomplished looks different to meet different needs, but the end result is always the same - mending those broken hearts and learning to live again. It reminds me of a song I love "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?"made popular 1971 - could it really be 40 years ago!

http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/nottinghill/howcanyoumendabrokenheart.htm

I can think of younger days when living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do
I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend a this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees
And misty memories of days gone by
We could never see tomorrow, no one said a word about the sorrow

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again

"Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again." What a line. What a prayer so many of us plead to our selves, to others and to our God.

This became so clear to me this morning while breaking an egg into a skillet. That egg is often thought of as the perfect, natural food. Pure nutrition wrapped up in a nice hard shell. The only way to get to the good nutritive value of that egg is to break it - crack that shell on the edge of the skillet and out comes the beautiful healthy food. After it is released from that hard shell, it can become what we use to say when I was a Home Economist, "the incredible, edible egg." It can be friend, poached, scrambled. It can hold a cake together or make a soufflé rise. It can be a salad or thicken a soup. The little broken egg can be transformed into a thing of wonder and delight. But it has to have its shell broken before it can be transformed. It became so clear to me as I studied God's word - breaking is painful and breaking frees us. But I am not the first one to learn this although this morning I thought I was. Consider what C.S. Lewis said:

“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.”

"Hatching" is painful. Hatching is the realization that the world is not right and there is something we must go through to keep from going bad. It is a choice we all make. But the hatching can open us up for healing and binding of wounds and power. Hatching is where the transformation takes place and all the gifts we possess come out and become honey for others - scrambled, friend, poached - like bread and wine. If I believe scripture - and I do - then I know that God heals our broken hearts and he binds up our wounds. (Psalm 147:3) I also believe the God's grace is sufficient for me and my power is made perfect in my brokenness and I should tell others about my brokenness so that the power of Christ will rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Lewis said we cannot go on indefinitely being just some ordinary, decent egg. It's not enough. We'll go bad. Something must change in our hearts - it must be broken...

and then it can mend.....

and live again.

Victory Street

Is it just me or is everyone angry? Controversy is on every corner. People are out of work and scared. Business is slow. The news is a constant hum of discontent. It seems even the news broadcasters have an edge to their voice. Even business owners are snappy with customers. Everyone has their own solution. Nobody agrees. Probably the debates tonight will be a good example of that.

But yesterday I turned onto Victory Street. It's a short cut-through street that was taking me to my destination. I guess I had never paid much attention to the street name, but yesterday I could not help but wonder if anyone else was driving down Victory Street. Who was feeling good about their day? Who was making a change for the good in lives of others? Who was being kind? Thoughtful? Considerate? And as I walked into the well-ordered elementary school, I was welcomed into a beautiful setting of peace and calm. The secretary was cheerful and interested. The principal made time for a chat. Teachers stopped by to say hello. Children were active and busy with learning. Victory Street.

I left there refreshed and encouraged by an environment that had been created by willing and skilled staff members. But I knew that kind of environment doesn't just happen. It takes discipline, creativity, long hours of work and a passion to make something special happen. It also takes a willingness to just work in the background of life, quietly going about doing a job with skill and confidence. It is what Brian Williams calls "Making a Difference." the short, final segment of his airtime - a wise choice to make us all feel better about something at the end of the day.

Yesterday I read "The beginning of all reform must be in yourselves. However restricted your circumstances, however little you may be able to remedy your affairs, you can always turn to yourselves, and seeing something not in order there, seek to right that." But who wants to look within when it is so much easier to look out and blame someone else? Who really wants to pause long enough to seriously consider their own state of affairs? Isn't it easier to fix someone else? And who really wants to change anyway?

Living on Victory Street comes at a price. The price of work and sacrifice and self-control. Victory comes after the pause, after seeing something not in order and admitting it and then starting the long journey of change. Victory comes when we seek to right the wrong in ourselves first. And victory comes when we can find gratitude even in the smallest of things. If Victory is a street we long for, then Gratitude must be the sidewalk alongside.

"Accept the challenges so that you can feel the exhilaration of victory."
George S. Patton

Make The List

On occasion, I read something that touches my soul, speaks to my heart, takes my breath away. I read the words and remember similar thoughts and feelings that made me feel alone, questioning, separated by a sea of grief yet connected in a way that gave me a painful sort of joy. But hard as one tries, words cannot fully express. We each must walk the path and find our own way. It is so individual and yet all so connected. With lives intertwined, we are asked to love one another. Choosing love, we also choose pain and suffering because we just can't have one without the other. It's the painful sort of joy.

My friend coming out of the grocery story is choosing love. Carrying three cases of old-fashioned canning jars, I asked, "Henry, what in the world are you doing?" He laughed and said, "Canning pears." And then he turned to a more serious subject and we talked about his beautiful daughter walking through cancer, looking for options, choosing love and hope. I came home thinking about how hard we work to preserve what we know and love. Canned Pears. Beautiful daughters.

I am reading the book One Thousand Gifts. I downloaded the book on my Kindle, but already know it is one I need to buy to underline and return to often. The author Ann Voskamp is challenged to write down 1000 things for which she is thankful. I will not tell you the story because, as my friend wrote to me, saying "stop what you was doing and go get the book," I would echo the same thoughts. Finding gratitude in everyday life events is what saves us. Nothing else. Voskamp says, "Thanksgiving always comes before blessing." I know this to be true. As I look out the window at the sudden change of the season, I smile and am grateful... for the red streaks in the Maple trees, one last rose begging to sit at my desk, cardinals playing hide-and-seek, Dr. Feelgood's morning call, Bodey at my feet, my son's emailed travel itinerary, my daughter's bright attitude toward her first jury summons, a repairmen on time. One thousand gifts is a short list. I smile and I know.

Because I know, there is strength for this life journey. I know God stays with us through the bad times - all the way. I know he is "close to the broken-hearted and draws near to the crushed in spirit." I know He blesses us with friends and material comforts, but the real blessing is in knowing Him. I know the power of his comfort, his strength, his wisdom, his staying power. I know Him and want others to have strength for their journey. And as our paths cross in our daily events, I want to be joyfully present in each event - welcoming the traveler, sharing an omelet, reflecting what I know. Maybe that is why these words come - sometimes with humor, sometimes with anger and often with questions - lots of questions. But never without gratitude and trust in the One I know.

Maybe we have just never been challenged to make the list. We'd rather be grumpy. We offer a perfunctory, skin-deep "thank you" and move on as opposed to really listening or really observing or really paying attention to the present that is offering moments of real wonder. John Milton said, "Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world." Until we can stop and be still -- be reverent-- gratitude will elude our hearts and we will miss the blessing. Thanksgiving always precedes the blessing.