Tapestry

Several women gather in a small African hut on Tuesday mornings to praise Jesus. Most are from the same tribe; a couple of them are missionaries. There are no decorated tables or spiral bound study books. Only a few can read. They walk long distances to get there each week. And, they have names.

For the New Year I’m rehearsing the truth of an oldie but goodie, Psalm 23.   It’s rich, profound, and best of all, true.  So followers of Christ, I invite you to forget its familiarity and re-live it with me today as if you’ve never heard it before.

    Often encouragement comes in the form of praise or a word of kindness. Someone says an encouraging word because they noticed something about you or something that you did. Maybe you performed your job incredibly well or have incredibly consistency. Maybe you did something extraordinary or maybe something ordinary.

Most people's New Year's resolutions involve things to add or incorporate into your life: losing weight, reading through the Bible, decluttering your house, filing your income tax before April 15. (I hereby make a public commitment on that last one. Feel free to ask me about it.)

But some people don't need to add anything else, they need to LET GO.

Christmas is a river. Specifically, the St. Lawerence River. Every year, the day after Thanksgiving, I climb in my little Christmas barrel and swing into the current. Home decorating, gift shopping, cooking and baking, company coming, reaching out to those who need it—I ride the accelerating flow of Christmas, occasionally slowing in an eddy of candle light, advent reflection or quiet carols, then back out into the whitewater of mailing gifts, sending cards, airport pick-ups, faster and faster until it’s Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Niagra Falls and we’re over the edge, down the drop…and then…about now…I pop up downstream and think…ok, where was I before Christmas swept me away? Where was I and where do I want to go?

 
 
Perhaps remnants of pieces of Christmas wrapping paper still lay on the carpet floor. The Christmas tree in all its glory continues to stand tall, but some of its needles lay brown on the floor. And a few wrapped gifts still remain under the tree awaiting their owners.

“Beauty creates energy.” A quote received recently from a good friend. Perhaps that explains how energized we often feel during the Christmas season. We enjoy the red and green, lights, sights, smells and sounds of one of our favorite holidays even as we scurry about with our lists and wrapping.

 
The holidays are a mixed bag if you ask me. We’ve got the beauty of God’s gift of His son, next to the ugliness of fighting over the latest and coolest gift for your kid. There’s this amazing little family made up of a young faith-filled couple in awe of the God-child within travelling miles away and laying a baby in a manger, and there’s your own squabbling, stressed out family trying to get everyone together for one meal without a fight. You’ve got that first Christmas, then you’ve got this one. How do we pull it back a bit?

My suggestion? Simple. Listen to this.

Thomas Jefferson created his own version of the New Testament by literally cutting and pasting everything he agreed with, and leaving out anything supernatural. That's one way to treat what you don't like in God's word. Another is the recent publication of the Queen James Bible, where the editors changed eight verses that express God's prohibitions of homosexual acts to make homosexual expression okay.