Multitudes on Monday every day...

Words are woefully inadequate for days like these when...

...four-year old cousins are best friends for the day and
...painted buntings and goldfinches flitter about and
...the water sparkles like diamonds on a frigid winter day and
...no one's in a rush to put away Christmas or take down the tree and
...the first Hunter granddaughter, perfect in every way, slips into our hearts and her big brother's arms


For the LORD is good;
his steadfast love endures forever,
and his faithfulness to all generations.
 (Psalm 100.5 ESV)

The gift of compassion...

...for two little boys.

One for each of them:

Guatemala ABCs: A Book About the People and Places of Guatemala - to read and learn about Diego's home

Window On The World - to know there are children like Diego all over the world who need prayer, who need Jesus, who need compassion

An inflatable globe - to trace the distance across the Gulf between us and Guatemala

A copy of Diego's first letter to us - colored drawings, slick with crayon wax, and a fingerprint we can touch

And the adorable Diego - the very same age as those two little boys - standing tall against the paint-pealed wall - his photo framed for each of them

The little boys will open their packages, inflate the globes and find the place Diego lives. We'll take a photo and print it off, draw pictures and send love in a letter - to Diego from Mason and Gavin and their papa and mimi.

And when grace and blessings are said over our food, and we light the last candle on our journey to Bethlehem, we'll pray all together for Diego and his family, grateful for the opportunity to nurture the gift of compassion in the hearts of those two little boys who call me mimi.

Child sponsorship, through various Christian organizations, has been a way of life for our family for over twenty years, but the inspiration for sponsoring a child as a Christmas gift for our grandchildren came as I traveled vicariously with Ann Voskamp to Guatemala with Compassion International  late this past summer.

If child sponsorship seems too overwhelming, there are still many other wonderful ways to give the "gift of compassion" to others this Christmas through the Gifts of Compassion Catalog - an on-line catalog of gift alternatives. No crowds, no lines, no stress, and no returns - just a gift that will help make a difference in the life of a child living in one of the poorest communities of the world. Gifts that help to provide clean drinking water, medical treatment, disaster relief, food supplies and much, much more for Compassion-assisted children and their families.

There is a gift and price-range for nearly every budget. Gifts include mosquito nets, soccer balls, chickens, goats, water filters, farm equipment, clean water and more, and range in prices from $10 to $5000.

Meet real needs and bring real joy with a Gift of Compassion to someone you love this Christmas.

Oil for the journey...

When given the opportunity, it is the metaphor of light with which I share my redemption story.  Is it any wonder then, that it is the way light makes that which is wet and cold blaze orange and golden - and has the power to draw me out of the dark place where I am warm and cozy and comfortable and making note of all that is wrong?

And as the Light draws me away from the darkness and poverty of spirit that a poor-me list nurtures, my heart overflows with gratitude for the abundance of all that is beautiful and good and full of grace and mercy in a sometimes cold and broken journey season.

~ the daily lighting of candles and the gathering of oil and light for the journey as the darkness of day approaches
~ friends walking down the same bumpy path (you know who you are), hearts tethered close - we can do this
~ music, oh what joy, joy, joy
~ a daughter for a friend -  so ready to spread her wings with a heart bent for the least of these
~ friends who love enough to offer advice, even if I'm not sure it's right for me and the grace that fills in our differences
~ Betsy(you know who you are, too, sweet friend) and your amazing gift and the time and thought it required
~ the granddaughter I can't wait to meet
~ the feet of those we love that, God willing, will soon be under our table

Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” ~ John 8:12 ESV

Received with thanksgiving...

It was two days after the respite and I was delighting still in the benefits of rest and prayer and the marvels of modern medicine.

Compared to pre-respite days, life was perfect. White lights on the Christmas tree sparkled and except for the rhythmic tick of the clock, the house was warm and still and perfectly quiet.

I stood at the edge of the back porch. Frost-bitten grapevine blanketed the thickets along the creek, glowing amber in the rising sunlight. Sparrows and gold finches fluttered about, eating from the feeders now hanging from bare branches, while white-winged dove pecked through the mulch below them, and I whispered. "I sure would love to see a painted bunting today, Lord."

The painted buntings had been gone for months and were due to return any day, but I was immediately embarrassed by my selfish request. The basic needs of many are so great, Lord, and yet I'm not satisfied with the multitude of gifts I hold in my hands that I ask to see a painted bunting?

I poured a fresh cup of coffee, grabbed a sweater and my gratitude journal, and headed outside for the backyard swing. Where do I begin? Can amazing grace and mercy and forgiveness not be on my list every single day?

293. Lizzie, who gives the best knee injections
308. goldfinches and red-bellied woodpeckers
313. the way the sunlight gilds the grapevines
318. John Piper - who reminds me not to waste one single moment
367. dish towels and soap
368. clean, warm, dry blue jeans
371. Advent devotionals that twist and bend my heart aright
385. constant comment tea, sweet with honey and peppermint stick swirls
398. yogurt for tummy health
402. the painted bunting that arrived in all his glorious plumage the very day I asked to see him

I don't know why God chose to answer my selfish prayer for a bird, but I do know this...

"For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving."

Respite...

You'll likely think I'm crazy for saying so, but yesterday was a respite.

I woke shortly after four in the morning to be ready to leave with Louis (in the freezing pre-dawn) before five. Dropped Louis off at church for men's ministry at six, had my lab work drawn by shortly after seven (my phlebotomist was awesome - one painless stick), returned to the church to pick up Louis and get to my ortho surgeon by eight.

By noon I'd had knee x-rays, a long conversation about stem cell treatments using my own stem cells versus knee resurfacing surgery, a cortisone injection in one knee, another long conversation with my primary doctor about the pleural effusion and high blood pressure and a multitude of diagnostics, breakfast (brunch, really) with Louis at an empty and much-too-expensive cafe (but the coffee was good and hot and did wonders for my headache), a delightful conversation with our insurance agent (which may have made writing our homeowners insurance check a little less painful), used the extended warranty on my laptop to get a new (free) battery from Best Buy, bought a birthday present for Gavin, and picked up a prescription (for the effusion), BP meds (for the obvious) and a handful of groceries.

But it was a respite. Days of being grounded, an anti-inflammatory gel (so much better for me), and the prayers of dear, dear friends and a pastor who always prays for me (thank you, Eric) have born fruit - and I can walk, slowly, write letters and pull sweaters on over my head with much less pain. I've slept two whole nights without a narcotic, and delighted in backyard swing time in the sun (with more good coffee and my Christmas 2010 gratitude journal) and a short walk by the creek this afternoon. Huge progress. Respite.







But it's humbling to be needy. I'm the caregiver, the one who washes the feet of others. I don't take kindly to being grounded and needing my own feet washed. I ought to be able to fix and take care of myself and just toughen up and keep on going, I think.

Emily read to me today from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader...about the dragon and Aslan and how the dragon wanted to be different and would peel off the scales but there would just be another layer of the same scales...he needed Aslan to do the peeling.

We work so hard to make everything in our lives perfect....a perfect home...with perfect children...and a perfect Christmas tree...and it never happens, of course, when it's us doing the working...and then grace opens our eyes and we see that Perfection in a Person makes what seems at first to be one more imperfection to be instead an act of love from His hands. That nothing escapes His eye...He knows we are broken and stumbling across cracks and pits...and every day He gives more light for the journey.

Oh what a gift that is, don't you think? I can almost see God putting the wreath package in the hands of someone He knew would break the pieces. Is that not an amazing grace? I marvel, still, at my perfectly broken wreath and how it ministers to me in ways I could not have imagined.







The photos: My respite afternoon. The snake? Would you believe it was dead? Louis found it Tuesday, belly up in the grass. Probably froze to death. It was still in the same place this afternoon. In it's death stiffness, that's how it looked when I flipped it over with a stick in the grass. I'm surprised that a hawk has not found it to be prime prey.

It's a broken journey to the manger...

(continued from here).

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, 

continue to live your lives in him, 

rooted and built up in him, 

strengthened in the faith as you were taught, 

and overflowing with thankfulness.

~ Colossian 2:6-7 NIV



I was heartbroken.

I'd long admired Ann's Way of Light Wreath, so I was thrilled when her gifted son Caleb crafted more wreaths and donates all proceeds to Compassion. I thought about it for less than five seconds before placing an order. I'd earned just enough money in November to buy a Way of Light Wreath and cover my Compassion child sponsorship. The timing could not have been more perfect.

The rich aroma of linseed oil rose from the package as I opened the end flap and removed the contents. I knew the wreath had been crafted in three connecting pieces - a center spiral with 25 candle slots for Advent and two extensions for increasing the candle slots to 40 for Lent, but there were six spiral pieces in the envelope. The Lent extensions were in two perfect pieces but the center Advent spiral was broken in three places, and in my hand I held the Lenten cross, broken in two.

Quite confident that every piece had been perfectly intact when it left Caleb's hands, I had no intentions of requesting a replacement. The pieces seemed to fit together like a puzzle. A little glue overnight and it will be good as new, I thought. Even if  it isn't, I'll never speak a word of it to Ann or Caleb. It's all for Compassion, and that's good enough for me.

Hiding my disappointment from my family, I began the work of fitting the pieces together as though it was a perfectly normal thing to do. The house was a mess. Nearly every table and countertop was covered with the Christmas decorations we'd taken out of storage but not yet put in its proper place. Pain and fatigue had forced me to move slowly, and there was much unfinished decorating to accomplish, but this wreath was a priority. I cleared a space on the dining room table, placed the broken pieces on a flat surface, and carefully super-glued them together.

It's a broken journey to the manger, I thought. Much like me. I smiled.

And I will lead the blind

in a way that they do not know,

in paths that they have not known

I will guide them.

I will turn the darkness before them into light,

the rough places into level ground.

These are the things I do,

and I do not forsake them.

 ~ Isaiah 42:16 ESV

The ESV Study Bible says this about that verse in Isaiah...

No human incapacity can defeat God's purpose of grace. His ways are so counterintuitive to human understanding that those he delivers might as well be blind, in darkness and on rough terrain, but God leads them through.

Incapacitated is accurate description of me these days....and on a broken path with a few rough places. It's a journey with daily challenges that I do not know...except for the grace that takes me to the manger and the God who will lead me through. And like the candles on that broken wreath, darkness gives way to light.

I treasure this gift of a broken, super-glued wreath. Honest. I wouldn't replace it for the world. It is a daily personal encouragement that there is more light and more grace for this journey I'm on.



I privately and quietly joined "one thousand gifts" here, to "overflow with thankfulness" with 1000 gifts in 25 days - a decision I made before I knew just how rough this 25 day journey would be.



But God knew and I wouldn't be surprised if He isn't responsible for the broken wreath and the 25 day challenge, for it is impossible to simultaneously wallow in self pity and overflow with thankfulness.

Just a few of my current 240...

...1. Grace
...6. a clean, dry, warm and comfortable bed
...19. a daughter who humbles me
...26. my mother's creche
...48. God's comfort in my pain
...56. coffee
...77. early morning quiet
...85. super glue
...92. laughter
...104. reading glasses
...108. baby rabbits
...112. small town life
...126. hot water
...132. wonderful words of life
...143. bananas
...153. running water
...158. beautiful journals
...166. that I am chosen
...177. that I am God's workmanship
...187. pianos
...191. soap and water
...198. naps

I've been grounded...

Between frequent trips to the east coast, a painfully slow and gimpy gait, and pure exhaustion, my "being a good friend grade" has recently dropped well below passing. I was clearly failing at even the basic just "being there" on more than one occasion. So as I headed out of town for yet one more mimi-duty trip east, I decided to stop by the nursing home to see my friend's mother...if just for a minute or two. I'd not been able to see her even once during her recent long stay in the hospital. A short visit now was the very least I could do.

"She's in the activity room." A cheerful nurse pointed me toward the end of the hall.

Several patients were seated in wheelchairs that had been arranged in a semi-circle, facing the front of the room. A man who did not appear to be a patient was reading aloud to them from the newspaper. Mary's wheelchair was on the far side of the room. To reach her, I'd have to walk through the circle between all the other patients and the man reading the paper. I considered leaving, but Mary spotted me standing in the doorway and waved. I can't leave now, I thought. I'll slip in quietly, give her a hug, tell her I love her, and be back on my way.

I whispered apologies and crossed the room as the man continued to read. Mary smiled as I leaned forward to give her a hug. "I love you." I spoke quietly near her face.

"What?" she asked.

"I love you." I repeated, with a little more volume.

"What?" Mary spoke louder, too, and the nurse sitting at the desk behind the wheelchairs chuckled.

I turned to the man who was still trying to read the paper to a now distracted audience. "I'm so sorry."

I tried one more time to be heard. Holding Mary's hand I all but shouted, "I love you."

"I love you, too, honey," she sweetly responded, though I'm not entirely sure she knew who I was. After one more hug, and more apologies to the paper reader, I sheepishly gimped my way back out of the room.

I don't think that feeble effort did much to improve my friendship grade.



Not only have I been failing at being a friend, I've also been grounded.

Protecting me from my foolish, stubborn self, Louis made decisions that I was avoiding. I've been temporarily grounded from away-from-home mimi duty. It broke my heart, but he did so because he loves me, and for that I am grateful.



I made that last trip east and brought the little boys home with me two days before Thanksgiving.

As always, Emily was the very best help. Between the two of us, we cleaned house, changed diapers, had a cousin play date with Gavin, and prepared a turkey dinner with all the trimmings to feed fourteen people for Thanksgiving.

And a lovely Thanksgiving it was. Though we very much missed Nick and his family 'round the table, it was still one of the best. Good food. Good fellowship. Good everything, made all the more perfect when Louis and Lizbeth took charge of cleaning the kitchen afterwards. Could I really ask for anything more?




It's our tradition. The day after Thanksgiving we pack up all the fall decorations, buy our Christmas tree and begin to decorate for Christmas. I think it's a beautiful transition. Preparing for Thanksgiving our hearts have been bent on gratitude that flows so perfectly into celebrating the One for Who we are most grateful.

Because I'm all gimpy, Louis and Emily did all the hard work. It took two trips into town to find the perfect tree, and two days to string all the lights. There's a murphy's law that seems to apply to Christmas tree lights: they work beautifully when plugged in before putting them on the tree, but once they've been strung all around the tree, half of them in the middle will no longer work. It's a test of our patience, I'm sure.

The tree is now fully decorated, and little by little the rest of the decorations are finding their proper place around the house, as well. I'm not obsessed with doing it all perfectly or completely - whatever that is - this year. I just can't, and yet the contentment that comes from being satisfied with the day's accomplishments - no matter how meager they might be - is so delightful.


 
But I'm grounded and gimpy and my photo walks have been few and painful. Only once or twice recently have I even left the back yard. I'm fully aware of my present limitations and I don't dare walk past the point at which I must have the ability to return. So instead of the wanderings I most enjoy, I am finding pleasure in the sparrows and warblers and goldfinches that are slowly returning to the backyard feeders - surely the painted buntings will be next.

And so the season of gratitude continues. Ann has long been challenging us to number our gifts to a thousand - our thanks for the many blessings that fill our homes and lives every single day, and when Pastor Eric encouraged us this Sunday to make a list of our blessings, I knew what the Lord was asking me to do in this season of grounded and gimpy days.

A thousand gifts in twenty-five days.


 

to be continued...