Months ago I embarked on what I was trying to view as a season of rest. Cutting back or completely taking a break from what had filled my time and my days. I began to seriously look at everything that I was doing and trying to determine its merit. I deliberately chose to not be part of a small group with church. God would be my small group. I would consciously take my time in seeking God’s will for my life. I would dig into the scriptures. I would learn more about Jesus, our Savior. I would seriously get in touch with God’s direction in my life.
A river is the common metaphor for time. Time only flows forward, never backwards. Time moves constantly and takes anything along for the ride. The question then is are we moving through time or are we the agents of movement? Do we move time forward by our decisions or is time just rapidly moving ever forward, sweeping us in it?
If we were able to grab some time together, I’d love to have you over for coffee at my cleanish house.
I would ask how you like your coffee? Or tea! We have that too.
After the initial warm-up questions and pleasantries I might be brave and ask what you feel like God has been teaching you lately. If you asked me the same question, it would take a minute to sort out my thoughts.
I’m always doing that, asking questions without knowing how I would answer them myself .
I cannot remember the last time that I heard my mom laugh.
However, I can surely tell you the last time that she hurt my feelings…
the last time that she yelled at me…
the last time that she treated someone she didn’t know with contempt…
the last time that she talked bad about me behind my back to my kids…
Last year, I experienced three job losses. The first one was from a job I had worked at since college and had sadly seen a steady decline in work happen over the past few years. Seeing the company dissolve and my job right along with it was expected, the others were not. After the second job was abruptly over and grieving yet another ending, I holed up alone that first evening. As the night wore on, I got down on the floor, in front of my open window, crying out to the LORD.
Upon seeing the words “The First Christmas” your mind is probably conjuring images of Mary and baby Jesus and the shepherds. The imagery is iconic, isn’t it? Whether the result of a careful reading of Luke 2, or exposure to nativity sets of all kinds, pretty much everyone knows what is meant by “The First Christmas.”
I grew up in a Jewish family. And I was bat mizvahed when I was 12. And that’s kind of how I was planning on living the rest of my life. And so when I started coming to Embrace, and I started hearing these things about Grace and Forgiveness and Kindness and Love. It hit home to me. And it hit me right in the heart because it was all of the things I had been looking for. And I was finally hearing them in this context.
Once the triplets were born, just the outpouring that we received… of just coming and holding babies, feeding, doing a load of laundry. We had a Small Group that adopted us and provided a meal once a week for the first year of their life. And it sounds like that’s not much of anything but we knew that that was one meal we didn’t have to thing about. It was such a blessing to us.