This morning I am praying for people. People on my heart, people that the Holy Spirit brings to my mind.
I pray for a very special child who is shy in public. Lord, give her the skills to interact with others and be comfortable with herself and them. Thank you that your hand is upon her.
I pray for my close friend who is searching the way forward with his work. Lord, open the right door for him, show him the way to go, encourage his heart, provide for the needs of his family.
I pray for another very close friend in another state. He has encouraged so many, send encouragement to him. Heal the wounds of the past year and lead him and his family forth in your goodness.
I pray for the different people I have crossed paths with in the last few weeks who have lost a loved one at Christmas. Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Help them to look to you in faith, guard their hearts from the questions and accusations the enemy brings against You when suffering comes. I especially pray for the two I know who lost their son.
Christmas is when God drew near at Bethlehem. Lord, you still want to draw near to us. How your heart longs that we draw near to you. We draw near with humble hearts. You are a good God. In love, in gratitude, in need, we draw near to you.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Sparkliest Christmas Tree Ever, or Let's Switch Eyes
Jack is my favorite boy. My only son is three years old, has red hair, and is one of the best things that ever happend to me.
This morning we were looking at the Christmas tree. It was still dark outside. The house was quiet, the only lights the soft glow of the tree. The girls still asleep upstairs, Jack unusually peaceful in his mom's lap. I showed Jack how to squint his eyes so the lights would look sparkly. We played and laughed and our tree became the sparkliest tree ever! It's beautiful!
After a minute Jack put his palms on his mother's cheeks, got his face right up to hers and said "Let's take out your eyes and take out my eyes and switch!"
At first it was just another in the stream of constant silly suggestions that come from a 3 year old boy, but all of a sudden it seemed like a good idea. "What would the tree look like if I was looking at it through my son's eyes?" It seemed exciting to think about how I would feel if I was looking at the sparkliest Christmas tree ever through the eyes of a child, a tree covered with diamonds and stars, a tree already guarding a host of presents. Some of those presents had my name on them! What could they be?
I would look at our manger scene, the one that graced my grandmother's front porch every Christmas of my childhood, and try again to imagine myself hidden in the shadows, imagining myself being there as I have done so many times as a child. Smelling the hay, listening to the slow, deep breathing of the cow and the sheep, watching the wonder on the shepherds' faces as they found Him. I would reverently walk forward, Joseph would smile. Now Mary holds out her hand to me, an invitation to come and touch the baby Jesus. Suddenly I am sharing in the wonder and the excitement that sometimes gets lost when you've had more than 10 or 12 Christmas mornings. I thought it would be a fantastic idea to switch eyes!
Then I began to wonder what Jack would see through my eyes. The tree is beautiful, he would note. But he would also see the unused wrapping paper - unused because I still have a number of presents to wrap. But actually I need to buy them first. Before that I need to decide exactly what I'm looking for, or maybe I could just wander around the mall like the other men. Plus we have another Christmas party. Plus a few things undone around the house because of so much else going on. Oh yeah, get the oil changed and begin packing for our holiday trip out of town...
What would my son see if we traded eyes? Would he see the wonder, or would he wonder what had happened to me? Switching eyes would be a good deal for me, but I love him too much to switch. I will let him keep the sparkly, starry eyes of a child and pray they always show him the wonder of Christmas.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.
This morning we were looking at the Christmas tree. It was still dark outside. The house was quiet, the only lights the soft glow of the tree. The girls still asleep upstairs, Jack unusually peaceful in his mom's lap. I showed Jack how to squint his eyes so the lights would look sparkly. We played and laughed and our tree became the sparkliest tree ever! It's beautiful!
After a minute Jack put his palms on his mother's cheeks, got his face right up to hers and said "Let's take out your eyes and take out my eyes and switch!"
At first it was just another in the stream of constant silly suggestions that come from a 3 year old boy, but all of a sudden it seemed like a good idea. "What would the tree look like if I was looking at it through my son's eyes?" It seemed exciting to think about how I would feel if I was looking at the sparkliest Christmas tree ever through the eyes of a child, a tree covered with diamonds and stars, a tree already guarding a host of presents. Some of those presents had my name on them! What could they be?
I would look at our manger scene, the one that graced my grandmother's front porch every Christmas of my childhood, and try again to imagine myself hidden in the shadows, imagining myself being there as I have done so many times as a child. Smelling the hay, listening to the slow, deep breathing of the cow and the sheep, watching the wonder on the shepherds' faces as they found Him. I would reverently walk forward, Joseph would smile. Now Mary holds out her hand to me, an invitation to come and touch the baby Jesus. Suddenly I am sharing in the wonder and the excitement that sometimes gets lost when you've had more than 10 or 12 Christmas mornings. I thought it would be a fantastic idea to switch eyes!
Then I began to wonder what Jack would see through my eyes. The tree is beautiful, he would note. But he would also see the unused wrapping paper - unused because I still have a number of presents to wrap. But actually I need to buy them first. Before that I need to decide exactly what I'm looking for, or maybe I could just wander around the mall like the other men. Plus we have another Christmas party. Plus a few things undone around the house because of so much else going on. Oh yeah, get the oil changed and begin packing for our holiday trip out of town...
What would my son see if we traded eyes? Would he see the wonder, or would he wonder what had happened to me? Switching eyes would be a good deal for me, but I love him too much to switch. I will let him keep the sparkly, starry eyes of a child and pray they always show him the wonder of Christmas.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.
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