Behold Him

“Behold the King has come
Divinity Incarnate
Creator of the world
Breathing our air
 
Behold what Light has come
And the dark cannot contain it
The Savior of the world is finally here
 
Oh come let us adore him
For He alone is worthy
Christ the Lord”
 

--Phil Wickham, ‘Behold”

The Greek word in the New Testament which is translated “behold” calls the listener to pay special attention to what will follow the speaker’s command. Several times the command is given by an angel to emphasize the importance of the message he brings. There are two Bible verses that use the word behold which stand out to me. The first is Luke 2:10 which says: “And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” The second is John 1:29 which states: “The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” In the first verse, an angel is announcing to Bethlehem shepherds the good news of Christ’s birth. In the second verse, John the Baptist declares Jesus’s identity as that of a sacrificial lamb who has come to atone for all mankind.

In his song “Behold,” Phil Wickham captures this juxtaposition of Jesus as the babe in the manger and the Suffering Servant on the cross. His Christmas song incorporates elements of my Mom’s favorite carol “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” which is a call to worship the Christ-child. For several months, God has been cultivating in me a greater appreciation for Who He is and has been calling me to a deeper experience of worship. For all these reasons, today my heart has sung joyfully and with adoration to “the King of the angels, the Word of the Father, Christ the Lord.”  

Be Still

 “Sleep, sleep, sleep

'Tis the eve of our Saviour's birth

The night is peaceful all around You

Close Your eyes

Let sleep surround You

Sleep, sleep, sleep

'Tis the eve of our Saviour's birth”

--“Still, Still, Still”

I love the hush of Christmas Eve. Everything is quiet and still, the house lit only by a myriad of candles and a tree with way too many lights on it. That’s how my parents did it. And that’s how I do it. I love the silence that is the exclamation mark at the end of the shopping and baking frenzy and the comma that pauses life before the hoopla of Christmas day. For Christmas Eve, I love to sing the lullaby-like Christmas songs like “Silent Night,” “Away in a Manger” and the Austrian folk hymn “Still, Still, Still.”

For me “the eve of our Saviour’s birth” is a time to slow down and reflect on all He has done universally as well as all He has done for me personally. It’s a time to pray for the loved ones who bless my life whether I talk to them daily or only communicate with them at this time of year. It is a time to allow God’s peace to fill my heart, the peace He came into this world to bring as “God and sinners are reconciled.”

"O Come O Come Emmanuel"

“O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight”

Mom knew how to tell a good story. How to draw in her audience. How to connect with their hearts. She used this gift, along with her intense study of the Old Testament, to teach that half of the Bible in a way that made the prophets and kings of ancient Israel come alive. Her explanation of the tabernacle and how it foreshadowed Christ’s work on Calvary was revolutionary in its time. Perhaps it’s due to her influence that the sacred song “O Come O Come Emmanuel” has long been one of my favorites.

 The hymn’s focus on Israel’s long wait for the Messiah pierces my heart as it underscores the truth of Advent: it is a season of waiting. The uplifting refrain encourages me to rejoice in the assurance that He will indeed return. It is one song that instantly makes me think of Jesus’s impending second advent for which all believers anxiously await. The hymn’s last stanza captures the longing we experience and the hope we have

“O come, desire of nations, bind

In one the hearts of all mankind

Bid Thou our sad divisions cease

And be Thyself our King of peace”

"We Three Kings"

Dusty camels lumber across the shifting sands as their bejeweled saddles and weighty packs creak and sway to the rhythm of the night wind. A rich perfume of frankincense and myrrh drifts alongside the travelers as they follow a bright extraordinary star they first spotted in the eastern sky. Is it really a star? Or is it a planet? Maybe it’s the Shekinah glory of God the ancient Hebrew texts describe. I wonder as I wander with this caravan journeying from the Far East to the town of Bethlehem, nestled in the Judean hills. 

Interestingly, Matthew is the only one of the four gospel writers who includes the account of the wise men, a story which nearly 2000 years later clergyman and hymn writer John Henry Hopkins, Jr. would recount in the Christmas carol “We Three Kings.” The song relates the magi’s journey as well as the momentous birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The refrain, which ties all the elements together, highlights the supernatural star that led the wise men to “the Perfect Light” to whom they offered their treasures.  

Like Matthew’s account, the song also describes the costly gifts, including myrrh, which the magi brought to pay homage to the Christ-child. Before His death, Jesus’s friend Mary would offer Him the best she had when she broke open the alabaster jar and anointed Him with expensive perfume made from spikenard. With Christmas just three days away, I ask myself whether this Advent season I have surrendered anew my heart to Jesus and laid my treasure at His feet in worship.   

"Come Thou Long-Expected Jesus"

“Come, thou long expected Jesus

Born to set Thy people free;

From our fears and sins release us;

Let us find our rest in Thee”

The lyrical Christmas carol “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus” is one that could answer the question “What Child Is This?” Like a well-wrought poem, in just two stanzas, Methodist hymn writer Charles Wesley’s song accurately and succinctly portrays so much about Jesus. With poignancy and brevity, the carol tells of His birth, His purpose, His mission, His relationship to mankind and His unique connection to Israel.  

Wesley’s words remind of just exactly who Jesus is. He may have entered the world once as a helpless baby born in poverty, but He is for all time the King of kings. While the wise men took Him gifts when they came to worship Jesus in Bethlehem, it is He who offers the world so much more than we can imagine. Wesley’s carol tells us that in addition to eternal salvation, Jesus offers us freedom, rest, hope, and joy. A life with Jesus offers more than we could ever dream, but the key to experiencing that life is to acknowledge Him as king and let Him rule in our hearts both now and through all eternity.

"What Child Is This?"

Growing up, my denomination did not emphasize Advent. The entire focus was on Christmas, both at church and at home, but as an adult I have come to appreciate the contemplative nature of the Advent season which affords me time to really reflect on who Jesus is and my relationship to Him.

The Christmas carol “What Child Is This?” challenges listeners to explore their own thoughts about the Christ-child before offering an answer filled with clarity and truth as it tells the story of Jesus’s life and encourages listeners to praise Him. The song encapsulates the entire message of the gospel while telling us plainly who Jesus was and is:

“Good Christians, fear, for sinners here

The silent Word is pleading.

Nails, spears shall pierce Him through,

the cross He bore for me, for you.

Hail, hail the Word made flesh,

the Babe, the Son of Mary.”

As Christmas approaches, I pray my heart will not only delight in images of the sweet baby Mary held in her arms in a dusty, smelly stable but that it will also hear the message that even in a manger in Bethlehem, Jesus was silently interceding for me.

"The Little Drummer Boy"

My mom loved all things Christmas, but she especially loved Christmas music which she usually started playing at Halloween. Thanks to her influence, I also developed a deep love and appreciation for Christmas hymns and carols, but one of my least favorites has always been “Little Drummer Boy.” 

Last week during an advent worship service, though, these words from the song caught my attention: “I played my best for Him.” I have asked myself off and on all week whether I am giving Jesus my best this Advent season. And if I’m truthful, I haven’t been. I’ve been distracted by too many activities, focusing too much of my attention on the trappings of Christmas and not the Christ-child. 

Last week’s service helped to redirect my attention toward the Lord whose birth and sacrifice are the only true reason for this season. Yet I still question whether I gave Him my best this last week. I am hoping to be more aware, more present and more intentional about this as I enter into this last week of Advent 2022.

 

It's My Birthday Too

“You say it’s your birthday  

It's my birthday too, yeah

I'm glad it's your birthday

Happy Birthday to you"

-The Beatles                          

“In the same way, the women are to be worthy of respect, not malicious talkers but temperate and trustworthy in everything.” -1 Timothy 3:11

 “A gracious, generous woman will be honored with a splendid reputation . . . ”

Proverbs 11:16 (TPT)

Today is my grandmother’s 92^nd birthday. It’s also the birthday of my dear friend Gena, whom I often call “Big Sis.” And it’s my birthday too. Through the years it’s been a lot of fun sharing my birthday with these two special ladies. For my tenth birthday I remember my grandmother taking me to my favorite pizza restaurant—just the two of us—even though she didn’t even really care for pizza. Feeling adventurous, she ordered a Hawaiian pizza for herself (mine was cheese only), and then shared with me how she would love to travel to Hawaii someday. She never made it there, but when she was in her 70s, my dad’s intrepid mother went on a mission trip to Guatemala.

Like Grandmother, my friend Gena also has a spirit of adventure as well as a heart for service. One of my favorite birthday memories with her was two years ago when our mutual friend flew from Texas to Florida where Big Sis lives. They surprised me with a phone call asking me to meet them for lunch. I drove over and the three of us had a wonderful day celebrating together.

I have so many memories I treasure of times spent with grandmother and with Gena. But one of the most important aspects of my relationships with each of them is our spiritual connection. They have prayed with me during ordinary times, as well as during crises. They have shared Bible verses with me to encourage and strengthen and guide me. And they have even used scripture to gently rebuke me when I needed it. They consistently cheer me on in all of my endeavors, but most of all, in my walk with the Lord. And I am thankful to share a birthday with two such godly women.   

 

Lessons from Christmas 2021

It’s hard for me to believe as I write this post, another Christmas is over and a new year is beginning. Each year, I eagerly anticipate the Christmas season, and each year I try to place the decorations just so, write personalized cards to friends and family, and buy the perfect gifts for loved ones. I grew up internalizing the idea that Christmas needed to be perfect to be enjoyed. But after I had a colossal meltdown last year—due to the chaos Christmas decorating generated in my home and life—I decided I’d better rethink some things. So, this year I relaxed and aimed for beauty, peace, and joy rather than perfection. In the process, I learned a few things…

Lesson 1: The holidays don’t have to be perfect. (And they won’t be). My house doesn’t have to be Insta-worthy, even in December.

Lesson 2: You can keep decorating up to the last minute. I don’t have to have everything in place by the Saturday after Thanksgiving. In response to this epiphany, I kept decorating until a few days before Christmas. Not because I wanted perfection, but because I wanted beauty and there were some decorations, like the giant wreath on my gate, that had been left behind.

Lesson 3: Jesus really is the reason for the season. All through Advent I continually tried to re-focus on the entire reason we even celebrate Christmas. Focusing on the miracle of Christmas and the amazing Love it signifies, helped re-prioritize my activities and my energy. And brought me the peace and joy the angels proclaimed to the Bethlehem shepherds 2000 years ago.

Ultimately, Christmas 2021 helped me realize the only perfection involved in the holiday is the Christ Himself. And in His light, everything else pales anyway.

My Testimony is His Faithfulness

 Psalm 119:90: “Your faithfulness continues through all generations…”

“Time and time again, You’ve proven You’ll do just what you said. Great is Your faithfulness to me.” –Maverick City Music “Promises”

The other day I was listening to “Promises” by Maverick City Music and told my friend, “That’s my testimony. God is faithful.” Of course, there’s a lot of complexity, depth and breadth to my spiritual journey and my relationship with the Lord. But ultimately, if I had to sum up my beliefs, my experience, and my relationship to the Lord in one sentence, that’s it: “Great is Your faithfulness to me.”

Both Old Testament and New Testament passages in the Bible extol the enduring faithfulness of God in general terms which apply to all believers. And I believe those statements to be true. But my testimony, my witness to His truth, is that He is personally faithful to me. The lyrics of “Promises” proclaim that “Your faithfulness, it never runs out. I put my faith in Jesus, my anchor to the ground, my hope and firm foundation, He’ll never let me down.”

And He hasn’t. He protected me when I nearly drowned, when I fell headfirst out of a car, when I swerved on a busy interstate and spun-out into the median. He’s provided work when I had none. He’s stretched my finances so that I have never missed a bill. He’s brought me prayer partners to encourage, comfort, and strengthen me. He’s comforted me when I’ve lost loved ones. He’s given me strength and courage when I’ve faced all sorts of challenges. I may not always understand His will or His ways, but I can always trust His faithfulness.

Checked Off and Checked Out

 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord…”  -Colossians 3:23

I’m not really sure when I began making to-do lists. Junior high? High school? Birth? Order has always been paramount to me and making lists helps me organize my time, my life, my goals. I get a sense of satisfaction when I draw a line through an item or put a check mark, sometimes with a flourish, in front of a task. But I recently discovered there’s a dark side to all this list making and marking.

It happened a few weeks ago as I multi-tasked my way through the end of the day, and silently tossed up a prayer in response to a friend’s request. While still heartfelt, the communication felt a little perfunctory. It happened a few other times with prayers and also with exercise which I normally really enjoy. I realized I was just going through the motions, completely disengaged from some important things in my life. Somehow life had been reduced into a series of tasks to be accomplished and I was mindlessly attempting to finish them in order to move on to the “next thing.”

I wish I could say that since that epiphany I have changed and am now intentional about each of my prayers and all of my words and actions. That would just be a lie. Sometimes I am still checked out as I check off my lists. But I am trying daily to be more present in my own life, more aware of the inner narrative that is subtly and profoundly impacting my life and the lives of those I care about. And I’m drawing close again to the One who made me, understands me, and loves me whether I mark off all the tasks on my list or not.

Sparrows

The January morning started out cold and drizzly and bleak. But to me, it was a beautiful day. It was just days before my birthday, a time which brings up all sorts of wonderful memories—many of which occurred on similarly bleak winter days. On this particular frigid Monday, I was in the middle of praying when God prompted me to look out the window at a cluster of leafless trees, diamond-like raindrops clinging to their spikey gray branches. A sudden quick movement among the bare limbs caught my eye, and I realized there was a tiny gray and brown bird flitting around in the treetop. I don’t really know what species the bird belonged to, but I imagined it was a sparrow. And I was filled with peace as I watched it dart from one branch to another, scrounging for food. The bird was simply being a bird, oblivious to the cold and rain and the pandemic that has bound us all in fear for nearly a year.

I smiled, thinking of the Bible verses about sparrows. Matthew 10: 29-31 says: “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” The moment was a culmination of weeks of God bringing to mind sparrows. A friend had sent me a link to a video of Audrey Assad’s song “Sparrows” which is based on the classic gospel hymn “His Eye is on the Sparrow.” Cory Asbury’s “Sparrows” was another song God had been using to direct my focus to the deep love and concern expressed in the verses in Matthew. The chorus of his song says:

“You take good care of me.

You know what I need before I even ask a thing.

You hold me in Your hands with a kindness that never ends.

I’m carried in Your love no matter what the future brings.”

I’m grateful not only for these songs which have encouraged me, but especially for the little bird God sent as a tangible reminder of His presence and His provision. I will never cease to be amazed at a love the depths of which I will never truly comprehend.

All Is Calm, All Is Bright

For so many people, 2020 has been a bleak year filled with fear and despair. Life was also bleak for many who lived in Judea 2000 years ago. The humble carpenter Joseph faced the difficult decision of whether to marry his betrothed or expose her pregnancy with a child he did not father, and risk his community stoning her. Mary faced the overwhelming choice of whether to submit to God’s will and become the mother of His Son. Even once they chose to obey God, life and Rome handed them another challenge when Caesar called for everyone to return to their hometowns for a census.

For a poor couple in a desert land long before cars were invented, this was an arduous trip, made even more difficult by the fact that it was just about time for Mary to give birth. Once they arrived in Bethlehem, they found there was “no room in the inn.” So, they spent the night in a stable, (which scholars say was most likely a cave), filled with animals. For Mary and Joseph, the night was probably filled with fear, uncertainty, pain, and disappointment. Until Jesus was born, and they held a miracle in their arms.

In his Christmas carol “Silent Night,” Joseph Mohr described the night this way: “Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright, ‘round yon virgin mother and Child.” His words evoke the peace and hope that only Jesus can provide. Even now when life seems unstable, chaotic, uncertain, Jesus’ presence can inspire us to still proclaim that all is calm and all is indeed bright in the midst of the Light of the world.

Dwell in Hope

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” – Romans 15:13 

“Therefore, my heart rejoiceth . . .  my flesh moreover shall dwell in hope.”

–Psalm 16:9 Darby Translation Bible

Last week in a phone conversation, my dear friend described an experience she had a couple of years ago as “being on the sharp edge of hopelessness.” As she comforted and encouraged me, I told myself I was not in that place. Discouraged. Frustrated. Overwhelmed. Weary. Unfortunately, that sounds dangerously close to hopelessness to me. Perhaps that’s why for months now God has encouraged me to focus on the word hope. It became a theme in my hand-lettering art and one day while looking for inspiration, I stumbled upon Psalm 16:9, which in the Darby translation ends “my flesh moreover shall dwell in hope.”

As the pandemic continues unabated and violent riots have swept the country like a scourge, I have continued to meditate on the verse. Strong’s Concordance says the word for “dwell” in Psalm 16:9 comes from the Hebrew yis-kon which is used to mean “to settle down, abide, to dwell.” It’s a strong word with the connotation not only of really living and being very present within a place, but it also speaks of contentment and peace.

The words “in hope” are lā-ḇe-ṭaḥ which Strong’s defines as “securely.” In the Bible, hope often is connected to faith which stems from our choice to trust God. Therefore, we can have hope and rest secure when we trust in God’s perfect, unchanging character and His eternal, unfailing love. As Savior, Redeemer, and Healer, Jesus is the very embodiment of hope so choosing to “remain, abide, and settle down” in His presence is choosing to dwell in the only secure source of living, lasting hope.

Cinderella's Worth

Cinderella has always been my favorite fairy tale. The glass slippers and glittering ball gown. A fairy godmother to grant all my wishes. A dreamy waltz with a handsome prince. And true love. When I was little, those were the things that drew me to the story. But as I’ve gotten older, I began to wonder why was Cinderella, and not another princess, really my favorite. The topic has resurfaced recently as I’ve been working on a fairy-tale themed display at work. 

So as my thoughts again turned to Cinderella, I began pondering her character rather than her wardrobe. She is a humble, optimistic girl who endures the loss of her father, the alternating abuse and neglect of her stepmother and stepsisters as well as their ridicule as she is made to live like a pauper while they live like royalty. Despite her challenges, Cinderella never lashes out at her tormenters. While her response might suggest she is weak, scripture would say otherwise. “Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. /Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:17-18, 21) 

Even in the midst of heart-breaking mistreatment, Cinderella manages to love her enemies and “do good” to those who hate her (Luke 6:27). When her step-family receives an invitation to the prince’s ball, Cinderella’s positive attitude shines through as she assumes she is invited as well. When her relatives then cruelly destroy the dress she had planned to wear, she still finds hope in her fairy godmother. Throughout all her trials, Cinderella perseveres, while maintaining her joy, hope and optimism. Her grasping, merciless stepmother and vain, spiteful stepsisters could never see her worth. But perhaps it’s Cinderella's strength of character more than her physical beauty which won Prince Charming’s heart. In the end, Cinderella’s goodness triumphs over the evil in her life. Now that’s a fairy tale princess I can believe in.

A Strange Easter

The last few weeks I have heard so many folks, Christian and non-Christian alike, say, “These are strange times.” Indeed, they are and as a result, this Easter was a little strange, too. This morning, my friends and I drove to church where an attendant held out a six-foot length of PVC pipe to help us park a “safe” distance away from other vehicles. We waved at the cute baby beside us then tuned the radio to the proper channel so we could hear the audio for church and turned our gaze to a giant screen, reminiscent of ones for drive-in movies. The only measure of normalcy was that the praise team led worship as usual followed by the pastor’s sermon. 

As I reflect on this morning’s unusual service, though, I think of how odd that first Resurrection day was. There was a violent earthquake. Angels whose “appearance was like lightning.” And an empty tomb. The women who loved Jesus and went to His grave expecting to anoint His broken, dead body must have been bewildered when they arrived and found Him gone. Then they heard the exultant angel’s message that Jesus had risen, “just as He said.” And there was Mary Magdalene who mistook Jesus for a gardener, yet instantly recognized Him when He called her by name. That evening, Jesus walked through a locked door into the room where His disciples were cowering in fear and declared, “Peace be with you!”

That first Easter was incomprehensible. It still is. The perfect Son of God died an agonizing death so we could have eternal life with Him and the Father. As if that gift is not enough, His sacrifice also offers us “abundant life” while we still walk this earth. All we have to do is believe in Him, accept Him as our substitution, and confess our sins. Out of His extravagant love and His overwhelming grace, the God of the universe and all creation, humbled Himself to take our place and endure the punishment we deserve. Strange indeed.

Burn the Ships

"Burn the ships, cut the ties

Send a flare into the night

Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and wave goodbye

Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So, light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back…"

-- For King & Country

At the close of every year, I turn contemplative. I’ve been that way since I was in elementary school when on Christmas night I would crawl into bed, weighted down with a feeling of heaviness and sadness that the old year was passing. Thankfully, I learned to also look forward to the new year, anticipating its joys and its lessons. Still, I find that when a new year dawns, it takes me a few days, sometimes weeks, to work through my adjustment process. I review the previous year, analyzing it and trying to determine how I can grow in the new year. 

And while I don’t establish resolutions, I do set new year’s goals, usually spiritual, relational, and health ones. For the last handful of years, I’ve also tried to choose a Bible verse to set the tone for the year and to provide direction or a vision for me. I ask God to be at the center of the endeavor, hoping He will give me His wisdom and guidance. I haven’t gotten very far in the process yet for 2020, but I have been meditating on the song “Burn the Ships” by For King & Country. 

The song title and chorus are based on the idea that some European explorers and ancient military leaders, once they reached their destinations, would supposedly destroy their ships in an effort to keep their men from deserting when challenges arose. The spiritual metaphor is easy to establish and has been used by numerous pastors and Christian leaders, for Christ calls us to leave behind all we know and hold dear in order to follow Him. If we truly wish to become His disciples, we figuratively have to burn the ships that would take us away from Him, back to our old lives. After all, it is difficult to move forward if you are constantly looking back.

The Grace of Giving Thanks

As far back as I can remember my sister and I said “please” and “thank you” and “yes, ma’am” and “yes, sir.” Good manners were as natural to us as breathing, but astonished strangers in the grocery store used to ask my mom if they could buy me and my sister treats as a reward for our conduct. At the time I was barely out of diapers, and apparently my seemingly atypical actions had a significant impact on those around me. Mom declined their generosity, believing we should learn to “do right” simply because it was the right thing to do. Besides teaching us to use good manners in our speech, she and Daddy insisted we write thank-you notes to friends and relatives for gifts and special deeds of kindness. While my parents also modeled the behaviors they expected from my sister and me, they never explained their reasoning; perhaps the root of it all were the expectations of our ultra-polite Southern heritage. But I think their actions, words, and instruction also stemmed from their deep faith. They often reminded us that whatever we did in life, whether it was obeying them or our teachers or doing homework or chores, we should act as if we were doing those things for God (Colossians 3:17, 23). And by saying grace before meals, they taught us that humility and gratitude should be an integral part of our faith and our relationship with the Lord. 

Jesus Himself sets the example for all of us by offering thanks to God the Father in many circumstances. Matthew 15:36 records Jesus giving thanks to God for the bread and fish He broke before the miracle of feeding the 5,000. The gospel of John records Jesus as thanking God for hearing His prayers just before He calls Lazarus back from the dead. (John 11:41-43). Jesus even showed how we should give thanks in the worst of circumstances when He thanked God for the bread of the Passover and shared it with the disciples, telling them it represented His body that would be broken within hours by a Roman scourging and cross. (Matt. 26:26) With such a selfless example of gratitude, it’s no wonder the United Methodist word of service and communion for “The Great Thanksgiving” includes the exhortation:

“Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right to give our thanks and praise.

It is right, and a good and joyful thing,

always and everywhere to give thanks to you,

Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth.”

Nestor and the Skim-boarders

Tropical Storm Nestor popped up out of nowhere, an aberration for this late in hurricane season, and last weekend his appearance threatened my plans to attend a Christian writer’s workshop I’d eagerly anticipated for two months. So, every day I checked the weather forecast for Orange Beach as Nestor drifted towards the Panhandle. And every night I read emails from the workshop coordinator, eager to see whether the event was going to be canceled. Thankfully, the weather cleared and that Saturday morning I only had to battle a little drizzle during the 64-mile trip to the coast. I even made it to the church with 15 minutes to spare.

When I walked in, I was met with excited voices and friendly faces and as I expected, the all-day workshop was an enormous blessing. One of the main ideas that stuck with me was whether as a writer I am a planner or someone who flies by the seat of her pants. The speaker also reiterated the idea that we need to make a commitment to our writing in order to succeed. Once the conference ended and I exchanged hugs and contact info with some new friends, I drove to my favorite beach. As soon as I cut off the car engine and hopped out, I yanked off my good shoes and threw on my flip-flops. Standing there still wearing my dress clothes, I scanned the horizon where the afternoon sunshine played freeze tag with a sky full of fluffy gray clouds. Inhaling the salty air, I smiled and hustled down the weathered boardwalk that dropped me into soft piles of sugar-white sand. Almost as soon as my toes -which were sporting ocean blue nail polish- hit the sand, I could hear the waves roar. As I trudged further toward the shore, the sound grew and I spied huge rolling waves crashing one on top of another. The unusually high surf was the only evidence that overnight Nestor had brushed past the Alabama coast dropping off rain and stirring up the gulf. 

I stared past the breaking waves to a smattering of surfers who were patiently waiting for the chance to ride into shore. Then another group on the beach caught my attention and I walked over to speak to some board-short-wearing fellas. Each loosely held on to a short board that was propped on the sand in front him like a fiberglass shield. When I asked them about surfing, one guy politely explained they were skim-boarding and then told me the difference. I quickly caught on as I watched him and his friends run pall-mall into the surf, throw down their boards and skim the wave as they drifted back into shore. Amazed, I commented to the first guy that I could never be brave enough to do what they did. Without missing a beat his friend glanced at me and said, “You just need a plan. And then you need to make a commitment to it.” I nodded in agreement. That’s good advice for skim-boarding, for writing, and for life.

11 on the 15th

I think subconsciously I’ve been waiting on the clock to roll over to midnight. Then it won’t be August 15 anymore. But then…it won’t be August15 anymore. Today marked the 11^th anniversary of Mom’s passing and as the clock marks the end of this day, it also reminds me that another entire year full of griefs and challenges, joys and accomplishments has slipped past since I last paused to remember her anniversary. 

I think of Mom every day, many times a day, and she still worms her way into conversations with those in my life who knew her and loved her. But August 15 is separate. A dividing line: life with Mom/ life without Mom. I wouldn’t wish for her to come back. Not now that she is safe and healthy and whole. But there are days I’d love to hear her laugh or sing or to hear her tell one of the stories that could make me laugh until tears rolled down my face. And so many times I would welcome a chance to glean a word of wisdom from her, especially when I have some sort of medical crisis and desperately need her advice. I miss Mom's wit, her charm, and all the love she poured out not just on me, but on so many people in our lives. Despite years of poor health and a life filled with monstrously abusive relatives, Mom was so vibrant, such a bright star and it was devastating to watch that light get snuffed out.

So, no matter how many years pass, August 15 will always be the day Death stole my sweet Mom from us. Until one day, there will be no more August or January or June. And once again, I’ll get to hear her sing the hymns she so loved, this time for all eternity. Until then, I’ll keep trying my best to honor her memory by living out the lessons of love and faith and joy that her life taught me.