The Coat Closet's Call to Repentance

2015 has found me de-cluttering. Before the year began, I came across an online 365-day plan which would have me clutter free before the end of the year -- in only 15 minutes a day. The entire month of January has found me cleaning out my kitchen. It began with sorting through the now old Christmas cards, throwing away old pot holders, donating multiple cheese slicers, Pyrex and coffee makers ... one drawer or cabinet at the time. And each Saturday finds my husband and me at our local Abba House Thrift Store -- a ministry that supports women and their children.

But before I began disassembling the shamble on the shelves, there was already a portion of my home that was causing me discomfort. My coat closet. It actually started several years ago when I read that the early Christians went so far as to say that if I have two coats, I have stolen from the poor. Surely they drew their conclusions from Luke 3:11 where John the Baptist tells his disciples, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none." But the writer went on to say that when we give to a beggar, "we should get on our knees and ask for forgiveness because we are returning what was wrongfully stolen from that person." When read, that's a hard one to forget. And I never have.

With the arctic air that found itself pushing down on us southerners, I could no longer pretend I didn't hear the cry of the beggar. It only grew louder as the temperatures plunged lower. And I knew I was a thief. And I needed to beg for forgiveness.

I opened the door to the closet in the hall and what I saw should have appalled anybody. Not 2 coats. Not 5 coats. Not even 10 coats. But a closet jammed smack full of all kinds of different outerwear. Yes, my husband and I were (and are still) quite guilty of robbing from the poor. All we had to do was look in our coat closet.

Actually, there was an assortment. For my husband, there were some vests, some hunting gear and work jackets thrown in the mix of just plain coats. As for me, mine tended to be more "color" oriented. Black, blue (dark and light), tan, brown, green, lavender. There were "Sunday" coats, casual, and one for every possible climate. And surely that black floor length will come back in style some day. 

There was Columbia, Barbour, Chico, London Fog, L.L. Bean -- just to name a few. Each one issuing forth a strong call to repentance. 

Granted, it's not just coats. Basil of Caesarea touched on a number of areas when he wrote, "When someone steals a person's clothes, we call him a thief. Should we not give the same name to one who could clothe the naked and does not? The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to those who need it; the shoes rotting in your closet to the one who has no shoes. The money which you hoard up belongs to the poor."

My coat closet isn't as full as it once was; but it is nowhere near empty either. Might have been easier if John had mentioned how many to give away if we had 30 instead of just 2. But he didn't. All I know is that at this point, there are still a number of people weathering the winter without.

It's quite the call to repentance.

What about you? Got a coat ... or two?

Just an ordinary moment...

Joseph: "Righteous" or Right?

I've been thinking of Joseph lately. And why not? It's Christmas. And whereas his name is mentioned many times over in the Gospel narratives, his voice is never heard. However, I'm sure he had his say when his betrothed came to him and told him she was pregnant -- and he knew beyond of a shadow of a doubt he was not the father. Yes, Joseph. The most underrated, under-celebrated cast member of the entire Christmas story. And yet one of the most powerful in my mind. If you were to ask me this morning which Biblical person I would like to meet when I get to heaven, my answer just might be Joseph, the earthly father of our Lord Jesus.

Honestly, I think I already have an example right now in my husband. I think he may be a lot like Joseph, He's honest. He's real. He's quiet ... doesn't say a lot. He is steady strength. And when God speaks to him, he listens and he does the right thing, even when it's hard. 

That's Joseph. His story tells us that sometimes what seems to be righteous may not always be right.

Hear that again. Sometimes what seems to be righteous may not always be right.

Yeah. That stings me, too.

Joseph had every right under the sun to divorce Mary. He could have publicly shamed her and it would have been within the law. He could have had her stoned, for crying out loud. That would have seemed righteous. But he chose the hard thing and did what was right. He took her as his wife and subjected himself to every kind of gossip and slander that could come from the "righteous" of his day and that would follow him the rest of his life.

Sometimes what seems to be righteous may not always be right. And Joseph chose what was right.

What about you? What about me? Do we choose to be seemingly "righteous" or do we choose to do right. I think of the woman who circled the liquor store with a bottle of wine every night praying the evils therein would be cast out. And I kid you not, the store burned down. But then there's the woman who blessed the owners of the new bar in town every time she drove by, praying that God would enter their hearts. "Righteous" or right.

Then there's the woman who judges her neighbors because they are cohabitating and therefore won't have anything to do with them, while the neighbors on the other side form a relationship. "Righteous" or right?

And what about the woman who is at church every time the doors are open ... and comes home and serves roasted preacher to her family for Sunday dinner because he can't keep his son under control. While another young woman stays at home with her unchurched husband because he just wants a little time with her alone. "Righteous" or right?

And while we're thick into the "Merry Christmas" or "Happy holidays" quibble, do we get mad and hold to our guns that "Jesus is the reason for the season"? Or do we recover the reason and just DO the season?

"Righteous" or right?

Yep. Joseph might not have a voice in the story, but he sure isn't silent. He has a lot to say to each of us.

Just an ordinary moment...

NOT From a Distance

I stood at the kitchen sink stirring the caramel icing to its correct consistency while the under-the-counter radio next to me played the season's songs. Not giving much thought to what was coming through the speakers, I quietly hummed along to the words being sung.

From a distance the world looks blue and green,

and the snow-capped mountains white.

From a distance the ocean meets the stream,

and the eagle takes to flight.

From a distance, there is harmony,

and it echoes through the land.

It's the voice of hope, it's the voice of peace,

it's the voice of every man.

Yes, it was Bette Midler singing Julie Gold's, "From a Distance."Granted, much of the song's popularity coincided with Desert Storm. I get that. You can hear it in the 3rd verse.

And there are no guns, no bombs, and no disease,

no hungry mouths to feed.

And the 5th:

From a distance you look like my friend,

even though we are at war.

From a distance I just cannot comprehend

what all this fighting is for.

I've heard and even sung this popular song for years, but every time it strikes a dissonant chord with me. Whereas the music industry throws darts at its lyrical content, its stiff rhythms and drums, I always cringe when Ms. Midler gets to the chorus. 

God is watching us. God is watching us.

God is watching us from a distance.

I don't know, but that just seems to go against everything we are celebrating during this season of Advent and Christmas. After all, didn't the angel say to Joseph His name was to be Emmanuel? The With-Us God? Indeed, he did.

"Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us" (Matthew 1:23).

To say that God is watching us from a distance undermines the entire Christmas narrative of which this season shouts. The whole Gospel story for that matter. 

"And the Word became flesh and lived AMONG us...." (John 1:14). NOT from a distance.

"[He] emptied himself, ... being born in human likeness..." (Philippians 2:7). NOT from a distance.

And even as Jesus Himself says when praying to His Father just prior to His betrayal and arrest, "I IN them" (John 17:23). NOT from a distance.

In all fairness, Ms. Gold, the writer of the lyrics, says she believes in an immanent and beneficent God and that the song is about the difference between how things appear to be and how they really are.

So, yes, at times it appears that "God is watching us from a distance." But NOTHING, my friends, could be more untrue. Let's celebrate this season in truth: Emmanuel. God is with us!!!

Just an ordinary moment...

A Cup Overflowing, 981-1000

Today's blog marks a sacred moment as the whole idea of counting, based upon Ann Voskamp's challenge in her bestseller, One Thousand Gifts, was to reach 1000. As you will see, I made my goal. It was a solemn juncture on December 15, 2013 as I carefully wrote "1000" in my journal. I waited to pen anything on the line because I wanted what came next to sum it all up. It had to be special. It had to capture my life. .... And, what I thought would be the most difficult journal entry to date, was actually the easiest thing I have ever written.

#981  favorite books and getting to read them over and over and over again

#982  a daughter-in-love's offer to help get a Christmas tree

#983  a first duet with my grandson

#984  the beginning of Advent -- and the anticipation that precedes it

#985  a grandmother's first drawing by her first grandchild

#986  Advent prayer

#987  for my comfy recliner that has become a sanctuary (post surgery)

#988  a daughter-in-love who gives up a Saturday to help me decorate for Christmas

#989  White Santa Christmas ice cream

#990  a huddle of praying "Tigers"

#991  running into my dearest friend Vicki at Barnes and Noble on a Sunday afternoon ... such "a happy place" for us both

#992  Christmas candles that speak of the Light of the World

#993  staying in my pajamas until noon ... and not feeling guilty about it

#994  a UPS order waiting for me at the door first thing -- and the books within

#995  a cat crouched in wait

#996  bare trees and exposed nests

#997  fruit from Mrs. Ann ... Mrs. Ann Smith was the pianist at the Presbyterian Church for decades. Now blind, she sits on the 5th row and blesses this pianist with her encouragement in the form of fresh oranges and grapefruits 

#998  a Chick-fil-a peppermint chocolate-chip milkshake and my husband who made it happen    

#999  the peace and presence of Christ on this 3rd Sunday in Advent

#1000  GOD'S GRACE ... Yes, I swim in it

A Cup Overflowing, 961-980

I'm still counting. In fact, my gratitude journal says "1366." But as I look over the following list, I realize that I'm almost a year behind in blogging them. However, as I approach that year mark, I'm reminded once again of God's faithfulness and presence during those days of surgery, recuperation, and wholeness. I remain so thankful for ...

#961  peace that passes understanding

#962  my daddy's gift of presence ... yes, in the day's following my surgery, I would awake to find my daddy just sitting in the chair in my bedroom

#963  a husband committed to the "for better or worse" ... and I do mean worse

#964  a strong leg to hang on to

#965  a mother's touch

#966  meals unending and friends and family who don't let us go hungry

#967  God's presence in the hard places

#968  His manifold grace

#969  the first walk outside -- all the way to the privet and back

#970  the chimes that have played music and the feeling that I'm being sung over

#971  plumbing that works

#972  silence

#973  my mom's whole wheat biscuits -- buttered and toasted for breakfast

#974  two weeks post surgery and a good post-op visit complete with color

#975  a daddy's phone call

#976  Gabe's gift of presence ... he found his place right next to my bed and held vigilance

#977  a cold November morning and the ability -- luxury -- to stay inside and go slow

#978  simplistic beauty -- wheat in an earthen vessel

#979  Cathy and Dick's visit 

#980  having all my children home at one time and the 22 feet under the Thanksgiving table

I count it all joy ...