The Coming

You came, and I ran away.
I tried, I tried to say yes, but I’m no Mary.
I don’t know how to make room when everything else is crowding in.

All this waiting, and I was not ready.

And now what?
Will you come again?
And if you do,
will you create the space that can open up to let you in?
Will you make me Mary?


~lg

a time for longing

Advent.

I put myself in the place of longing. Back to a time before God pulled on the clothes of earth, back to our own nakedness. I remember the cries of a people enslaved – how long, oh Lord? I imagine the dark of the silent shadow, empty ears, blind eyes. I turn back the pages and enter the story that began before my own. I do this to remember where we came from, who we were without Him. I do this so joy will be all the sweeter in the morning.

But the time of longing is not only past. The earth groans still beneath my weary feet, aches with the weight of a laboring world. For glory shone around, but glory also resides in the hidden places – the crook of a musty manger, the splinters of a shameful cross. In this time, sorrow and singing mingle together, yet hope’s song can always be heard above the rest. We are still waiting for another advent, when heaven and earth will be united once and for all in the God-Man.

Oh Emmanuel! Come, come . . . 

~lg

The beginning of giving

No, I’m not against giving to the needy. But I struggle with my own motivations for giving at Christmas.

I know I’m selfish right to the core. I know that selfishness strips me of wealth in the end, till I am wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I know the only way out is to open my hands, to release even the little I am hoarding because I feel it is barely enough for me. Because held too close, gold turns to ashes and fine clothes to rags.

And sometimes Christmas is the thing that pries a few fingers open and lets in some light.

And sometimes Boxing Day is only the return to clenched fists for another year.

Why am I willing to give away Christmas cookies but not make my life bread for others year round? I don’t want to be a hypocrite.

I want to grasp the nature of a servant, the humility of the Incarnation.

I need to remember that I have been the one to say “no room,” to say “no womb,” to God.

But still he comes to closed doors, closed hearts, closed hands and offers himself.

I must be like Mary. How can this be? I do not have the capacity to give. But my yes to this mystery makes a space within, a space for a seed that will grow into a harvest that will become bread to be broken and given away.

So I say, “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord.” Christmas is only the beginning, and who knows how this life within will stretch and overtake me.

“Be it unto me according to Thy Word.”


~lg

Advent Playlist

Sometimes, I need to wait. I need the anticipation, the longing, the not-yet-here, so I can rejoice fully when fulfillment arrives.

I love Christmas music. Not Rudolph and Chestnuts Roasting so much as the sacred and celebratory songs of Christ. It's just the best music! I can't possibly wait till Christmas Day to turn on the tunes, like some people who celebrate Advent do. But this year I made an Advent playlist. It's for the beginning of Advent, and for the days I want to feel longing instead of celebration. I found it a bit challenging to find Advent specific songs, but here's what I've come up with from my music library.


Messiah: Overture - Handel
Come Thou Long Expected Jesus - Chris Tomlin (Glory In the Highest)
Veni Veni Emmanuel - Hayley Westenra (Winter Magic)
Mao Tzur (Rock of Ages) - Fred Penner (The Season)
Forever Will I Sing (Psalm 89) - John Michael Talbot (25 Songs of Christmas Vol 2)
Messiah: Comfort Ye My People - Handel
Messiah: Every Valley Shall Be Filled - Handel
Messiah: And the Glory of the Lord - Handel
When the Time is Right - Ginny Owens (One Silent Night)
You'll Come - Hillsong Chapel (Yahweh)
Messiah: Behold a Virgin Shall Conceive - Handel
Messiah: O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings to Zion - Handel
He Shall Be Born - Wendy & Mary (25 Songs of Christmas Vol 2)
I Choose You - Rachel Lampa (One Silent Night)
My Soul Magnifies the Lord - Chris Tomlin (Glory in the Highest)
The Magnificat - John Michael Talbot (25 Songs of Christmas Vol 2)
O Come O Come Emmanuel - Instrumental (One Silent Night)
Breath of Heaven - Point of Grace
Messiah: Come Unto Him - Handel, National Philharmonic Orchestra (25 Songs)
Liese Rieselt Der Schnee (Softly Falls the Snow) - Fred Penner (The Season)
Dona Nobis Pacem - Yo-Yo Ma (Songs of Joy and Peace)
Messiah: For Behold a Darkness Shall Cover the Earth - Handel
Messiah: The People That Walked in Darkness - Handel
Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence - Fernando Ortega (Storm)
Emmanuel (Hallowed Manger Ground) - Chris Tomlin (Glory In the Highest)

-Messiah selections recorded by the London Philharmonic Orchestra & Choir unless noted otherwise

Bah Humbug? Challenging Christmas

Is it just me, or does Christmas seem to be mostly about spending money?

Gifts, parties, decorations, feasts, cards, fancy clothes, photo shoots, more gifts – it all costs money. It’s what we’ve become accustomed to. We anticipate the December stress of stretching our budgets and paying off the excess in January, or February. Consumerism is all around us this time of year, and we all buy into it. There are things you just need in order to have Christmas. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without _______________ (fill in the blank). And the price tag ends up being ___________ (fill in the blank).

Many Christians have become uncomfortable with the hijacking of Christmas by consumerism. And so we try to do something different. Instead of Christmas being all about us and what we get, we want to share some joy with others. This is truly a noble intention. After all, Christmas is about God giving Himself to us, so we want to give something to others.

But what are we giving?

We see others in need at Christmas. The obvious disparity between our lavish celebrations and their lack of means makes us feel especially conflicted, so we want to do something. We want to be better people, we really do.

But it seems to me that we are just giving the “needy” the same consumerist Christmas we ourselves are trying to escape. Now, instead of buying gifts for family and friends already overloaded with stuff, we give the needy stuff. Isn’t it too bad that they don’t have a mountain of toys under their tree? No problem, we’ll supply the mountain of toys. Because that’s what Christmas is all about, right? We can’t have Christmas without the turkey and presents and lights and chocolate and singing, dancing Hallmark toys, and neither can they.

So we’ve traded in one form of spending for another. Instead of spending on our family, we have to give to charities that will spend money for other people. You want to escape your selfish consumerism this year? Easy, just spend more money on _______ noble cause. But it’s still about the money.

I know, I’m sounding Scrooge-like. It sounds like I’m making up excuses for why I don’t want to open my wallet to others. But I honestly feel exhausted thinking about all the money I should be spending on charity to show that I know what Christmas is really all about.

It’s not that giving is bad. It’s not that these charities are bad. But what are we giving and why do we feel the need to give in this way at Christmas in the first place?

I read posts like this by a good friend, and I am truly challenged. Greed, stinginess, selfishness, hoarding – these are all markers of our society, things which should not mark the people of God. This is not what marked the Gift at the manger.

So what is Christmas about anyway? Why do we give gifts in the first place?

We can trace it back to good people like Saint Nicholas, who gave to the poor at this time of year. Of course, our Western Santa and his bulging sack is one bloated mutation. And we say we give to others in honor of God’s gift to us. But maybe sometimes His gift gets a little obscured beneath all the others…

To be honest, I really like giving and receiving gifts. But I’ve never really challenged the practice before in my own life. It’s tradition. It’s a wonderful way to make a connection with family far away and the ones around the tree; it’s one of those ways to show love. And you can get some really cool stuff! But is it necessary to Christmas?

Is gift giving essential to the celebration?

Because celebrate we should. God incarnate come to dwell with us? That’s worth celebrating!

So the question becomes, how do we celebrate this coming of God? How do we celebrate in a way that is fitting to the event we mark?

Is it fitting to plunge ourselves into a pit of spending and consumption and not come out until we are at least 5 pounds heavier and several hundred dollars in debt? Is this the best we can do?

We get many of our ways of celebrating from various traditions all over the world, many of them adapted from pagan and cultural practices surrounding the winter solstice. This is why we have lights and bring various evergreens into our homes. Do I have a problem with that? No, actually. I don’t think culture is something that is thrown away when Christ arrives. Christ redeems culture. Instead of tossing the Christmas tree as a pagan object, the symbolism of the tree is fully realized in Christ, and we can transform this tradition into one which points to Christ as the one who ever lives in the midst of our winters.

There are countless other beautiful traditions and expressions of the season, many meaningful ways to celebrate, to mark this holy day. I'm not saying strip your house bare and sit in silence.

But I think our main approach to Christmas should be found in the pages of the Christmas story itself.

Here’s what I see.

Worship. Proclamation.

Worship – this is our gift to God.

This is the Spirit leaping within us because God is near. This is my soul magnifying the Lord, rejoicing in God my Saviour. This is the music we sing to the Mighty One for His mercy. This is a holy multitude, filling up the horizon, shouting “Glory in the highest!”

This is the outburst of exceeding great joy that comes after seeing His light. We direct our pilgrimage, our finest gifts, our worship to him.

And it can only come after we behold His glory, after we see Him filling up the manger with grace and truth. Worship is the fitting response to what God has done for us in Jesus Christ.

Proclamation – after we have seen, how can we not spread it abroad?

If this is truly wonder-full news, how can we hold it back? The coming of God means the Spirit speaks again through the Word, and through our words. It is the loosing of tongues to proclaim good news of great joy to all people.

It is the telling of the ancient story and its fulfillment. It is giving thanks and speaking of Him to all who are looking for redemption.

It is not a script, it’s a testimony. Proclamation is the fitting response to what God has done for us in Jesus Christ.


This is how we celebrate.


We don’t arrange our stuff to make a magazine spread fit for a king. He must come first, come in His way, the only way.

He comes to the humble. He fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty handed. (Have you ever laid down at the end of it all and felt empty handed?)

His coming is the substance of it all, and out of that our celebrations take on fitting form. Celebration is response, not preparation.

And He can come where there is no feast, no fanfare, no money for presents. He must be able to come there, if at all. Could He come to you this year without ________________?


So I am left thinking of Him. Thinking that worship and proclamation don’t cost anything, at least not in our market economy. That without worship and proclamation we are all bankrupt, and all our celebrations tainted. All our giving tainted.

If even our charitable giving does not come out of our free response to Christ, it is not love. It is only making ourselves feel less guilty on Christmas morning. So you see, we can still give. But if the only giving you ever do is to pass on consumerism to the needy at Christmas, you have not learned from God’s gift. If your Christmas giving is not an extension of your way of life year round, you might as well just buy yourself another luxury, because you have not truly opened your heart. The poor don’t need a nice Christmas with all the trimmings like the rest of us. They need Christ. And they need Him year round. They need the people who get upset over “Merry Xmas” to know that Christ doesn’t live in a neon sign over a store display. You take the Christ out of Christmas all year when you ignore the hungry. So give, but not because it’s Christmas. Give because you are Christ’s.

And celebrate! Celebrate with worship and proclamation and soon the gift that God has placed in your humble heart will pump its life into all you do.

If you have the means, feast! And remember who Jesus invited to His feasts.
If you have the money, give! And let it be out of love not obligation.
If you don’t have the money, give! There are other currencies far more valuable.
You don’t need a thousand LEDs. If you have a single candle, that’s enough to welcome the Light of the world. If you don’t even have that, He will still be your Light.
Above all, rejoice and proclaim Christ.
Make all your celebration fitting to the One we celebrate.


We don’t need to spend money to welcome Christ. And if we can’t imagine how that can be true, maybe it’s time we tried it.


~lg

This moment

This moment is the thing,
Here, now
This breath, this embrace, this still
This familiar mess, this uncertainty
The pause in this fold of the day
Before time weaves us further along

This moment is the thing
And to be thankful
And just to be


~lg

Letters to Arden – November 7, 2011

Seasons change again, and you with them. You are running into life and all that it offers, exploring every corner, testing every boundary, wondering at everything new.

Even now I see your fiery spirit as you engage and enlarge your world. Are you growing into your name, or did your name find you when you were still hidden, sensing a fitting recipient?

So many forces are already at work to shape you into the Arden you will become. And I, your mother, fight for safety and virtue and grace to push ahead of all the rest, I fight to discern what we should embrace, I fight to be the shape of Christ against you, not my will but His.

I pray Love’s force will always win in the end, though Love can be fierce as well as gentle. Your fire will burn brightest when it is kindled from His.

And meanwhile, while you grow, so does my heart, so do my arms – and you can always run to them.


Love Mama


~lg

how to seek

And now, how to seek You with a whole heart?
How to live so that every breath invokes Your name?
How to be so that Christ is over all and through all and in all?

How to gain the reward of faith
Found in You, You found in me?
How to gain the Rewarder?


~lg

November

Fields lie fallow
Weary old men with frosted whiskers
Settling in for the long nap

Forests robbed of gold and rubies
Stand forlorn, wringing their limbs
And the spruces sigh, there, there

The river’s eye is swollen
Knocked about by a north wind
Muddied and oozing over its banks

But hush,
The battle for the season is almost won
And winter will come with her blankets and gauze
Come with her command to lie still and rest

All will be healed


~lg

Single-handed Theology - Nisi Dominus Frustra

Nisi Dominus Frustra

(An abbreviation of the Latin words of Psalm 121.)

Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labour in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.
In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat – for he grants sleep to those he loves.

Quite simply, without the Lord, frustration!!

How many bricks have I laid of my own accord, how many times have I propped open a watchful eye, busy into the night, laboring under the false impression that it is I who must build, guard and provide for my own house?

How many of us have taken up God’s name and affixed it to our title, stomping around in boots to big for us to fill, glorying in the justification of our own exhaustion? How many sleepless nights before it all unravels in vanity and frustration?

We chase the wind, and meanwhile the house crumbles.

So I pray,

Teach me Your builder’s craft, so every stone I lay is part of Your plan.
Teach me to align my work with Yours, so my energy is not wasted.
Teach me to trust, resting in Your provision.
Teach me to rest, trusting Your eye never sleeps,
and that Your love is at work all through the night.

You are the Builder, Watchman and Provider of this house.

Nisi Dominus Frustra.


~lg

small seeds

These seeds are small and out of season
Leaves are falling, yet I scatter, scatter
Sowing hopes too slight to name
Tossing them out to the mercy of the elements
With a tiny whisper to the four winds
Breathe, oh breathe on these fallen
That they may live

~lg

Just breathe

Take a deep breath.

When it’s the end of a long day and there are still so many things to do, when you are tired and feeling guilty about being tired, when you just don’t have the mental fortitude to finish what you’ve begun, just breathe.

Breathe.

And turn that breath into a prayer, exhaling all the depleted energy you cannot transform, offering the only thing you can at the moment, which is your weakness. Then inhale, invoking the sacred Name that can only be whispered by the poor in spirit, and feel your lungs expand with life that is not your own.

Breathe until you remember this life is your own, given for this moment and the ones to come. This is the Spirit-Breath of God, by which all things are once again possible.

Just breathe.


~lg

This My Salvation

Driving home on a country road, the moon hangs, suspended glow over the trees and I remember how I have found saving grace in its light. And I begin to think about this my salvation.

My salvation has been a matter of preservation. How can the faith of a five year old be kept fresh all these years? How does it keep from going stale?

Only because God has sent his daily bread, manna from heaven, each morning and evening. It is only the mystery of grace, falling from the sky. Last year’s bread is long gone, and even yesterday’s will not be enough for today. He has renewed me constantly, opening his hand and providing food in season.

It has drifted down in the mercy of snow. It has been the moon, a silver wafer offered to unclean lips. It has been every word proceeding from his mouth, plucked from the fields of Scripture. It has been gathered on my blistered knees, searching desperately for just the crumbs from his table.

This is bread I have not baked. This preservation is not of my doing. I have only opened my hands, my mouth willingly, to receive what he gives.

Oh I have at times been seated at the table of fools, eating the cake of deception, frosting gone to dust and ashes on my tongue. I have tried to hoard and hide, stubbornly feasting on my own fermentation. I have nearly starved on self-reliance because I would not get up and gather his provision. I have turned his grace aside, only to find there is nothing else.

Nothing but manna, and what is it? and some days I cannot tell, I cannot taste, I cannot know how what has fallen can be what is good. I can only eat, and yet I can testify that brokenness has become wholeness, because all manna is from the mystery of the one loaf, broken for all.

He is bread and bread is life, and I must eat or die. And this is how I live. This is how I am saved, this is how he saves me even now.

And falling grace leaves rainbow trails in the rain clouds and rises bigger than the moon on a September night, reminders that this His salvation is all around.


~lg

The Heavens Declare

The way the early autumn light is bounding and resounding around the world this morning is a marvelous thing.

Those particle-waves are racing through the atmosphere, gathering every shade of cerulean and azure in the spectrum, spreading them wide over my horizon.

Every photosynthesizing leaf is practically bursting with new energy, gathering our faded breath and exploding into songs of oxygen green.

Rich rusty red oozes out of the pores of the earth, a super-saturation of organic overflow, making decomposition a thing of beauty.

Even brown reveals its subtle personalities in the mown hay fields, the cud-chewing creatures across the road, the flash of feather in the air.

And, marvel of marvels, it my eye that is able to catch what this kinetic spectacle flings out, to render the nuclear language of the sun into these colourful phrases.

Me, praying with eyes to see, spherical windows washed clean by the light, till I can feel the glory of God pierce my soul at 300 million metres per second.


~lg

late summer praise

Six sunflowers stand tall in a vase on the middle of the table, saluting the morning. They are stretching from night’s slumber, waking to the light, turning, turning. Bowed heads lift and faces open in bold yellow praise as they find their Creator.

We bought them at Hope River farm last night as the evening light cast long shadows on our way home from the beach. We bought honey too, and met the chickens, and saw how raw wool was brought into line with steady hands and a spinning wheel. But the sunflowers, acres of them, were top billing last night. Hundreds and hundreds in straight rows, all facing the same direction, a congregation of sun worshipers.

This is what sunflowers do, and I can’t help but wonder if they were created to do just this, to remind us to turn to the Sun, that our fitting posture is one which stands tall in bright worship, showing others the way. As the Countenance shines down, we lift ours up, and it is right to give our thanks and praise.


~lg