like mary {grace words wednesday}

that's me in the blue! clearly, i'm  pondering (something).

i was mary once. really, i was.

and i assure you, i knew i was an imposter back then at age 11, just as i know it today at 45.

i'm not a mary and it has nothing to do with her virgin birth or no room in the inn, but everything to do with luke chapter 2. verse 19:

 "but mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." 

she treasured and she pondered.

and for that, mary must have stood still long enough to do both.

i, on the other hand, am not doing a whole lot of standing still these days. not in this season ...

and yet ... i want to be. i long to be.

only yesterday morning, i was in bible study and our speaker talked about doing christmas differently this year. she said,

"this year, all i want for christmas is Jesus. Jesus. just to know Him better, to see Him more clearly, to worship Him more wonderfully."

she went on to explain how when she went shopping for the perfect gifts for her children, she wanted to remember it is Jesus who is the perfect gift. when she hung christmas lights on her tree she wanted to think about Jesus, the Light of the World. and when she baked cookies she wanted to keep in mind Who it is that truly satisfies.

i listened to her words and loved everything she was saying. shaking my head in agreement, i thought to myself, "yes, sister, yes!"

but, if i'm honest, i also sat cringing a bit in my secret knowledge of who i really am and how i really operate. especially in busy seasons like these.

i'm not mary. and often, i forget about Jesus.

i, too, want to string lights and remember the Light of the World. but it was just last week that i was wrestling (yes, wrestling) with that stupid, stubborn strand of lights on our tree that went out AGAIN.

i want to remember when i pop a cookie or two (or ten) into my mouth that only Jesus really satisfies  -- but, oh man, how i do love those christmas cookies! i am pretty sure when i was eating one cookie after another at our holiday gathering on sunday i didn't once think about Jesus!

and then, just yesterday morning, at the beginning of her talk, i was half listening while making a list on my iphone of things i had yet to do in my day.

anyone slightly appalled (yet) at the irony or sheer ridiculousness of this situation?

anyone else struggling in this same way?

there i was listening to a lovely lady talk about keeping christ the focus of christmas and i was focusing on my errand list. i was plotting how just after bible study i would quick dash over to the craft store in the next town and purchase my large paper mache letters which i would quick dash home and paint and then arrange on my mantle to spell out "NOEL." (one of those strange decorating "visions" i am prone to).

there i was hearing about the first noel, the birthday of Jesus, and my need to focus on Him, and there i was a woman with no focus.

i wasn't treasuring.

i wasn't pondering.

i wasn't listening.

no, instead i was on my iphone typing. plotting. listing.

because i'm jody and i'm nothing like mary.

mary who the bible tells us was just a young girl. simple. scared. overwhelmed. on her own.

mary who had no experience in birth.
mary who had no midwife or doctor.
mary who had no room in the inn.
mary who had no clue what would be required.

mary who was wrapping in swaddling clothes the very Son of God. the King of Kings.  the Redeemer of Nations. the Prince of Peace.

and i think i'm overwhelmed with what i have to do?

give me a break!

young mary, overwhelmed and under-experienced, was holding Jesus. Jesus!

and yet the scripture, in no way, suggests that she was fretting or pacing or panicking. the only thing it reveals about this young mother after giving birth to the Christ child is her treasuring and pondering.

oh Lord, make me a little bit more like mary.

i don't have to dress up in a blue sheet and hold a baby doll in front of a church service, but Jesus, make me still enough in this christmas season to treasure you. make me quiet enough to ponder the Prince of Peace. make me take notice of the First Noel.

all week in minnesota we've dipped below zero degrees. tonight we are expecting a low of minus 10. it's cold. frozen. frigid. there's a lot of snow. and with this snow comes a hush. a quiet. it's the kind of weather which just makes a person want to stay put. to sit in front of the fire with a cup of coffee. to stare out the window and watch the flakes fall. to be still.

“be still, and know that I am God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,  

  I will be exalted in the earth!” ~ psalm 46:10

like mary: still. treasuring. pondering the Son of God. the exalted among all nations.

sure, everyone's got a lot to do in december and this kind of weather is more like january -- even in minnesota. but the deep cold has come early this year and the stillness and hush have set in.

and today, i realized, i'm kind of glad.

if i can't make myself be still and quiet and calm in this season, than i'm thankful the weather is keeping me in a bit. {okay, so i did rush over to the craft store after bible study yesterday --- i cannot lie} --- but on the way home, i thought more about the message of the morning, and i realized the frozen, bare landscape outside my window is just another reminder to seek Jesus, just as He arrived to mary in that stable --- beautiful. simple. quiet. Jesus.

oh friends, i don't know what it might take for you. but i'm praying this morning that, like mary, you might trade in your december trips and panic for God's treasure and pondering.

whether your hands are nestled in warm mittens or not, let them open to hold the perfect gift, the Christ child ... like mary. 

looking out my front window ...  sometimes God is so incredibly clear.

{grace words: treasuring. pondering. still. noel}

okay, so here's the (infamous) N O E L ...

becky's writing some grace words this morning too! check her out at THE WORD OF GOD AND A CUP OF JOE!

a good hiding place

there's this little room under our front staircase.  it opens up behind the hall closet, behind the coats and bags and such,  and you'd never suspect it there.   a hidden room in an ordinary house.  i could have purchased our home on this fact alone.  thankfully, there were a few other selling features.   four sides of brick and a three car garage made my husband happy.  man things; solid, sound, safe.   the yard and creek (and dangerous laundry chute) captured the hearts of our children.  but i was stuck on the hidden room.  enamored with it.  i felt as if i had just walked into a  house hosting the perfect mixture of nancy drew and narnia.   a hidden room behind a bookshelf...an enchanted forest behind fur coats.  and, seriously, it was for sale?  sold!

so we bought it.  and like anything we purchase, the hidden room was novel for a while.   the kids straightaway wrote above the doorframe, in blue marker, "welcome to narnia."   nothing fancy, just child's scribble, but it made their mother happy.  off and on, they will play in there.  it is something to show new friends and a place to pretend for a bit, but it is hot and small and even rather dirty.  i once sat in this low ceiling-ed retreat as guest of my youngest son. i noticed immediately, we were in the company of at least two spiders - closer to my head than i cared.  the romance of our hideout was quickly lost.   to be honest, it is really more a crawl-space, than it is a true room.  furthermore, if you were to enter this funny, little refuge,  the coats you'd pass through would be more on par with windbreakers,  rain jackets and maybe a couple of rarely worn, winter woolens.  there's nothing luxurious to pass through, whatsoever.   this room goes long unattended and we seem only to remember it when in need of a place to hide out.  and for that, it is splendid.  a hiding place.  a secret place.


when we moved into this house almost five years ago, our daughter, emily, was 11 years old and at the height of all things dramatic.  she told me once, if she ever heard a burglar (yes, she used the word burglar) in the house, she'd be down the stairs and inside of that room in a heartbeat.  her imaginative mind had it all figured out.  of course, the whole family was invited to join her if the need ever arose.    i am sure, at least for a while, she probably had some granola bars and a few juice boxes stashed in her safe-haven under the staircase.   she, too, had been reading her way through nancy drew and knew, even at 11 years of age, the value of a good hiding place.

regardless our age, we all need to hideout every once in a while.   maybe for me it has something to do with five children, but i have found myself, on occasion, in need of some serious escaping.  though i am enthralled with the idea of something exotic,  i usually have to settle for something a little more local - something within shouting distance.  one of my spots is a white porch swing hanging on our patio below the deck.  it has become a good place for a quick get away.  a place to swing my body and catch my breath.   it is quiet down there.  and still.   (that is, if the kids aren't perfecting their backflips on the trampoline 15 feet away and if bella isn't digging in her sandbox on the deck up above).  this little swing of interlude calms me.  it quiets the heat of  too much within.  i realize this escapism may sound odd coming from a woman who has actually chosen a large family.  and i wouldn't change my household number one bit -  i adore the entire unruly crush of them.  but there are times when i need to breathe in a space apart.  alone.  there are moments when i need to put on my running shoes and turn on my ipod and go out my back door.  somewhere else.   separate.  this remained true in my rendezvous with cancer.  more than ever, i felt the need for escape.  the need for a good hiding place.


often, rooms and swings and runs can help in the pressing times of life.  but they are not enough.  they can hide us only so well, carry us only so high and take us only so far.  at some point it is not nearly enough.  we are exposed and we are brought low.  and it is at this low point we need to go deep.  deep into the only place of real safety and true calm.  deep into my Father's arms.  "You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance."  ~ psalm 32:7   oh friend, i know we all don't go immediately to this place.  most of us try other things first.  i struggle so much.  all the time, in fact.  i'll somedays go to target before i'll go to the Lord.  i'll somedays hide in my closet before i hide myself in Him.   uugh.  i am embarrassed to type such weak confession.  but it's true.  often, i have to hear the burglar in the house before i head to my hideout.  i have to be in real crisis before i search for real shelter. 


so this solitude-seeking woman will continue to escape to her porch swing below.   and she will sneak out her back door with running shoes on and ipod in hand...and she will probably head over to target more than she should.  and this will help for a bit.  i will snatch stolen moments in secret places and i will catch my breath and it will be good for an small hour or so.  but if i want life giving breath and soul-deep cool, i will have to be truly hidden... in a good hiding place.  hidden in Him.

"for in the day of trouble He will keep me safe in His dwelling; He will hide me 

in the shelter of His tabernacle and set me high upon a rock."  ~ psalm 27:5

"keep me as the apple of Your eye; hide me in the shadow of Your wings."  ~ psalm 17:8