it's a marathon

i know lots of marathoners. i, however, am not one of them.  my sisters have both run marathons, my husband, many of my friends, and last year, even my son. but not me. i am not destined to that rockstar category or cut from that kind of commitment cloth. i’m a sprinter. [and not a fast one at that]. don’t get me wrong, i’m about as competitive as they come, but i like the short race, the short game, the quick result. i like to walk away with a trophy or a ribbon or at least a little sweat and move on to the next thing.

i think that’s why i’m struggling a bit with where we are in our covid-19 pandemic.

i thought, by now, it would be all wrapped up.

i thought it might be over.

i thought we’d all be moving on.

but, clearly, we aren’t.

and from much of what i’m hearing, this woman who prefers a sprint has found herself and her entire world smack-dab-in-the-middle of a marathon.

even as we “make the best of it,” and “count our many, many blessings,” it is clear, our globe is growing collectively wearier by the moment. i felt that creeping in this week. ask my kids and husband about the grumpy lady living in their house. they’ll tell you. i don’t marathon well. i want to sprint my way right through this and move on.  i want to see my son graduate from college, i want to watch my littlest one dance in her recital, i want to visit my out-of-state family, i want to take my 30th wedding anniversary trip with my husband … heck, i just want to walk into the grocery store without the creepy movie feeling of mask covered customers.  

please do not hear complaint, hear my candor. i am certain even with these disappointments they pale terrifically in comparison to the heart-crushing stories stretching hard across our world. mine are mine, but, they are minor.

i woke this morning shrouded in that heaviness. burdened deeply, even before the sun showed her face. but in God’s goodness and perfect timing, He led me to this scripture from hebrews:

“let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. for the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” hebrews 12:1 & 2

eight years ago, when our oldest son, tyler, graduated from 8th grade, i was asked to give the graduation address and guess what scripture i used? yep, this very passage from hebrews. i reminded those 14 year old graduates that we couldn't possibly know what "the race marked out for us" might look like, but we can know the way to run "eyes fixed on Jesus," and, our thoughts as well, "consider Him." whatever our race, He is always the way through it. those 8th graders are now graduating this month from college, without any pomp and circumstance, mind you, but with a better understanding of the race marked out for them. what a strange time for them to enter the world of work and adulthood. i'm not sure any of their 16+ years of education could have prepared them for this.

it was good for me to remember that little talk. i needed to give it to myself this morning. 

and though, i’m convicted, i’m also newly encouraged to keep on keeping on. not by my own strength — heavens no! but to keep my eyes on Jesus. to remember the cross He carried so that all of our daily crosses and crises and, even our complaints and disappointments—however big or small—can be handed over to Him. 

we don’t know how many miles this marathon might prove to be, but we can know with certainty that victory is possible. not just at the finish line, but possible in each and every day. because of Him. 

weary ones, i don't know the exact race you are running. i'm sure some of you are facing hills harder and miles longer than i could even begin to imagine. but God's hope and His cross are for all of us—regardless of who we are are or how fast we run. whether you are made to marathon, sprint or just amble along slowly, i do hope this has offered you a bit of encouragement today. fix your eyes on Jesus. consider Him. 

“but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; 

they shall mount up with wings like eagles; 

they shall run and not be wear;

the shall walk and not faint.”  

isaiah 40:31

april 19th & covid-19 & afraid

it was 9 years ago on april 19th when the doctor called to confirm my breast cancer. “i’m sorry, jody, but the pathology is back— the tumor is malignant.” 

i was sitting beneath a giant oak tree in my friend's front yard when i got the call. 

i’m sure i’ll never quite forget that sunny april day —

those blue skies. 

that giant tree.

the feel of the phone awkward on my ear. 

the tears hot down my cheeks. 

the breath leaving my body hard.

that day marked me. seared something deep inside. changed everything all at once. 

i felt like life would never be the same. 

i felt like normal would never quite return.

i felt abandoned by my God and angered at this news. 

how could life be going along so nicely and then in the 30 seconds of a phone call all completely unravel around me? nothing had prepared me for this sudden shift.

i never saw it coming. 

i was blindsided.

and in those weeks of diagnosis, almost daily doctor appointments, and a double mastectomy, i became very afraid. very scared and unsure about what the future might hold. with five young kids, i tried my best to appear calm and in control. i said all the right things. i gave all the right assurances.

but deep within, nothing felt very right or very sure. 

anxiety seemed to be my new found friend. i couldn’t escape it. especially at night. i’d wake to it sitting heavy on my chest. many early mornings i'd crawl out of bed, find a quiet corner and weep. i pled with God. i promised Him everything if He’d only rescue me from cancer and restore my life to normal. 

i didn’t like my april that year.

maybe this april has you feeling something similar. maybe all this covid-19 stuff has brought great anxiety and fear. maybe it has you waking in the middle of the night wondering why. maybe it has you questioning God and His goodness. maybe it has you asking what if and what’s next. maybe it has you longing for normalcy and pleading for things to go back to the way they were before. 

gosh, i get it. 

i’m ready for normal life to return too. 

but as i woke today remembering that april day 9 years ago, i couldn’t help but also remember how God used that hard time in my life to make His holy presence known--louder and clearer and more beautiful than i could have even imagined.

it took some time, yes. but i was able to eventually see how God didn't waste it, but was actually very much at work in it. He hadn’t abandoned me, but He used that time, instead, to help anchor me closer to Him. 
He used that april (and may and june and july) as a wake up call in my life —

a wake up call to new levels of gratitude and grace.

a wake up call to new eyes for His gifts. 

a wake up call to a stronger and more firm faith.

a wake up call to my need for a Savior.

it’s not easy to understand when we are in the midst of suffering or pain. goodness, it isn’t. but it is in these very places—these places of wild wondering and broken weeping—that God shows us His glory. isn't it true, often we have to come to the end of ourselves to see the beginning of our desperate need for Him? 

if i’m honest, up until that point in my life, i kind of was my own savior. i mean i talked the talk all the time, but i really never understood the depth of my need. i just didn’t. it is hard to see a great lacking when things feel pretty lovely.

maybe you’re not liking your april right now either. 

like everyone else, you’re ready for this covid-19 stuff to all be over. but i would encourage us as we are walking through this challenging month to lean into Him … to look to Him … to see what He has to show us--His glory, His gifts, His grace---those things so easy to take for granted when all is going well. ask Him. 

are we in need of an april wake up call? 

that doesn't mean it will be easy. april 19th, 2011 was an incredibly hard day. and it ushered in an incredibly hard few months following. but nine years later, i know that none of it was wasted. God was working even through my anxiety, my anger and in my feelings of abandonment. He used those very things to anchor me to Him. 

"we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the HOPE set before us. we have this as a sure and steadfast ANCHOR of the SOUL, a HOPE that enters into the inner place." hebrews 6:18-19

to Him be the glory forever.

“i consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. for the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. for the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the One who subjected it, in HOPE that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the FREEDOM and GLORY of God.” romans 8: 18-20

dwell. shelter. rest. refuge. 

our world is talking a lot about these words these days. 

of course we are.

we are afraid, unsure, uncertain. 

the present is inconceivable. 

the future unknown. 

and, believe me, i get it. 

i get the fear and the middle-of-the-night anxiety. 

i get the what if’s and the what nexts.

but God’s promise in psalm 91 remains true: DWELL with Him—the Most High—in His SHELTER ... and you will find rest & refuge. 

do these words promise perfect health or a pain free life? no, they do not. but rest & refuge are gifts which go beyond our physical well being. these earthly bodies are only a part of the equation. surely we must know that by now. there must be more. 

and there is. 

rest & refuge are attainable for those in any circumstance. all circumstances. 

THESE circumstances, my friend.

rest & refuge are what we each deeply desire, no matter the demise of disease or the destruction of our days. 

there’s no magic wand to make it all go away, but there is a Mighty Warrior God who calls us to find our rest & refuge in Him. 

a God who can cover us softly with the down of His feathers, and yet, protect us fiercely with the strength of His wings. 

dwell there with Him. 

james 4:8 encourages us “draw near to God, and He will draw near to us.” 

BUT...

how do you draw near?

how do you dwell with Him?

well, begin with your bible, dear ones. start with psalm 91. read His word. you have time. now is the time. 

let's stay home

LET’S STAY HOME. well before anyone had begun to whisper the word “quarantine,” there were trendy wooden signs in home decor stores everywhere across america. perhaps you’ve seen them: hand lettered and ready to hang in our kitchens or hallways. LET’S STAY HOME— a novel idea. because as americans we rarely do. we are go-ers. we go. we’re gone. always on the move. always out the door and on to the next thing. am i right?

i don’t know if it’s freedom or just some strange form of western-escapism or what, but we like to get in our cars or hop on our bikes and head off. head out. we like to leave. and where much of that can be good and some, of course, quite necessary, we have as a country, collectively, forgotten how healthy staying home can actually be.

well friends, it looks like we are about to find out a lot more about what it does mean.

this new “shelter in place” thing we are all doing or on the verge of doing, is going to teach us a few lessons. i know it will. and, what’s more, i have great confidence we are capable of climbing out of this new normal even wiser and wealthier than when we went somewhat anxiously into it. (and by wealthy i (obviously) do not mean financially).

i know we have a lot of questions about the stability of our world and the safety of our families and friends. of course we do. but let’s not get so caught up in the worry that we forget to catch the wonder and gifting of this extra time at home.

we can’t know how long this situation might last, but it could be awhile. and for a lot of us that is going to start feeling strange. probably already does. i understand the anxiousness that is beginning to creep in and camp out. and if all we choose to do is watch the news and listen to the experts and scroll our social media posts, we are going to get ourselves in a pretty serious situation mentally and spiritually, not to mention physically. 

might i suggest a different approach?

yes, keep updated where necessary and be responsibly informed as needed, but instead of dwelling on the disease and the ensuing disasters, let’s use this time well. let’s even choose to see it as a gift. a time out. a reset. a refresh. a chance to renew.

lockdown doesn’t mean locked up. maybe we need to view it as an opportunity to look around, look out or, better yet, look up. 

if we’re honest, most of us would probably admit that we live our lives too busy. we fill our days flitting from one thing to another, feasting on all this world has to offer. whether in work or pleasure, we are good at fitting in a lot. i am so guilty of this—always thinking i can go do or get or accomplish just one more thing. and off i go, running this way and that. 

if i had a nickel for every occasion i’ve heard someone say, “if only i had more time at home.”

but here we are: now facing at least an immediate future where we will be staring at our own four walls and wondering how to best occupy ourselves. we won’t be able to go to the office and immerse ourselves in work or run off to target for some (lovely) retail therapy. we won’t be meeting friends for a coffee or a face to face conversation. we won’t be galavanting out to dinner at the drop of a hat or packing our car for a trip or a sporting event. 

we will be home. 

so, friends, let’s stay home. 

let’s embrace it not just in civil obedience, but also in spirit.

and if at some point it is no longer our choice, let’s continue to embrace it. yes, i imagine, gone will be the “novel idea,” of those cute wooden signs, but how we face anything is STILL up to us. there is STILL (and always) a freedom in how we choose to focus. we forget that.

let’s not loose sight of the fact that there will be many new freedoms found even in this kind of confinement. we will actually have the chance to be in our homes and figure out all of the things therein which we’ve previously been too busy to notice or attend to. year after year. i know that’s true for all of us. i know our lists might look different, but if we stop and think about it, we all have a list and it’s been mentally building for quite some time.

maybe you need to physically make your list. i mean it. go ahead and write down all the things which you’ve always said you’d love to do if you ever just had more time at home to do them. have your kids do the same. write them out, post them somewhere and start a plan of attack. one gift at a time. i’m a big believer in the impact of actually writing things down. mental lists go only so far, especially after 50.(sigh).

board games and puzzles. movies we’ve been waiting to watch. books we’ve been too busy to read. bible studies to begin. closets and clothes to reduce. photos and recipes to organize. cabinets and drawers to tidy. flowers to plant (for some of us—sorry, northern friends). letters to write. new food to cook. walls to paint. music to play. art to explore. science to investigate. lessons to learn. a new hobby to acquire. i could go on, but you get the point.

there are things outside in our yards too! leaves to blow, soil to turn, weeds to pull, fences to paint, sunsets to see and, my personal favorite, BIRDS!  spend some time siting and watching them. just do it. you’ll be surprised how easily and quickly you become attached. before i left emily this past weekend in mississippi, i insisted, while at the super walmart, we purchase her a bird feeder for her backyard. she might have looked at me like i had lost my mind because most people were stocking up on other more important and sundry items that day when we put a bird feeder in our cart. but i promise, bird-watching can be way more spirit-healing than the number of canned goods in our pantry or rolls of toilet paper under our sinks (by the way, that's all craziness). Jesus specifically tells us to “look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away (toilet paper) in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. are you not much more valuable than they? can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life.” matthew 6:26-27. 

i know not everyone gets as jazzed up as i do about bird-watching or a well-organized sock drawer, and that’s perfectly understandable. so figure out what matters to you. figure out what’s going to feel good and feel healthy FOR YOU. figure it out, find it, and have some fun doing it. 

gosh, i don’t mean to make it all sound so simplistic. i know there’s a great level of seriousness in what is happening. aside from the real health concerns, we have grave economic, political and survival concerns. i know so many can’t afford to miss even a single day or week of work. that stress is real. and, i am so sorry if that is your situation right now. i truly am. but even if it is, i do believe we can all be better if we can flip our focus and look for the hidden gifts in a time full of so much uncertainty. perfecting our pilates moves or finishing a jigsaw puzzle isn’t going to solve for the coronavirus, but it can help us  stay healthy and do our part.

one last note, maybe the most heartbreaking of all of this—at least in my mind—is the kids that live in risky, hard places. i’m not naive enough to believe every child is feeling safe, well-cared for and loved while at home. and though i can’t do a lot about any of that from indoors, i can be more mindful and everyday lift this heaviness up to my heavenly Father. and, yes, there’s another thing we can work on — our prayer lives! we certainly have ample material. 

perhaps the most important thing we can work on in our homes would be the relationships under our roofs — the people we love but don’t always take time for -- the children or spouses to whom we sometimes half-listen or hardly hear. the ones we often take for granted or find ourselves frustrated with. let's connect better with them. let’s use this time for each other. maybe we can spend more time talking. listening. sitting still together. walking together. playing together ... even praying together.

i’m a homebody. always have been. even though some people disagree, i’m an introvert through and through. i’ve always treasured my time alone and i really do like to be in my home. i love to nest and care for those around me. but i am not very good at being still. and, for me, that will be my personal challenge — to soak in the stillness which staying home brings and listen closer to the voice of Jesus. 

for years i’ve had this quote on my blog, “make time for the quiet moments, as God whispers and the world is loud.”  the world is about to grow quiet. maybe for the first time in our lives. what an opportunity to listen for the voice of God.

friends, be safe. be blessed. be home.  

and if we come out of this as budding artists, better cooks, sharper scientists or, yes, even wine connoisseurs ... well, then let's count that all as a blessing!

“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

"he who DWELLS in the SHELTER OF THE MOST HIGH will ABIDE in the shadow of the Almighty. i will say to the Lord, "my REFUGE and my FORTRESS, my God, in whom i trust."

~ psalm 91:1-2

“in quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” isaiah 30:15

january christmas cards

just this january afternoon i finally managed to carve out some time with our pile of christmas cards. i might get a quick glance as they arrive throughout the busy month of december, but i truly relish the chance to sit with them, looking and reading a little more closely. they are wonderful! 

christmas cards are ... 

1. BEAUTIFUL REMINDERS. these cards are reminders of the many lovely people God has placed in our lives. people we can’t always keep up with on a regular basis, but, people we treasure—high school and college friends, colleagues and coaches, relatives and relationships we hold dear. “i thank my God every time i remember you.” philippians 1:3.

2. MUCH NEEDED UPDATES! the new faces and jobs. the accomplishments, adventures and new addresses! what an amazing group of people you are. truly! it is a blessing and a joy to read your words and see your smiles. what a gift to watch your families grow and change over all these years. as most of our peer group has crossed over the 50 year line now, we are all looking a little older too! lol. our kids are graduating, getting married and even having babies themselves. that’s crazy. but it’s crazy good.

3. A TINY SLICE OF LIFE. christmas cards—like social media— give us only a glimpse.
when our kids were little it was challenging to line us all up, clean and smiling for a family portrait once a year. i thought that was really hard. but as we’ve journeyed through these years, i have come to realize that a smiling picture of an intact family isn’t really that hard at all. it’s the living between those snapshots which challenges each and every one of us. doesn’t matter how pristine or perfect the picture, we all have some pretty messy days which don’t make it into the annual christmas card. i love that some of you do take the time to share not only the joys, but also the challenges. it is a blessing to rejoice with you, but even more, it is a blessing to share in the struggles. i love that so many of you have found your hope in the Lord. how encouraging! what a beautiful thing to witness your families—some broken and bruised—but all so beautiful.

4. THEY ARE WHAT THEY ARE.
i know some of you took the year off. or the decade. and some of you stressed over the perfect picture, arranged outfits and languished over the letter. however you did them—or didn’t do them—just know, it’s okay. either way. we are so thankful to keep in touch a little through social media or through seasonal mail. it’s all good. it’s a pleasure to be reminded of God’s goodness in the gift of you and your friendships. our card this year was nothing to write home about. it was kind of a goofy, chaotic quick picture we managed on one of the only days in 2019 we were all present. i wrote a little update on the back of the photo and when they arrived from “minted” i realized it was barely legible—at least not for middle aged eyesight! live and learn —white writing on a beige background doesn’t really work.

5. A CHANCE FOR PRAYER. your cards will give me a chance to be praying for you. a friend gave me the idea of pulling out a different christmas card each day or each week (not sure yet) and praying over that person, couple or family. i love the idea and plan to commit (or at least try) to this in 2020. (if you want prayer and didn’t send a card, it’s not too late)!

thank you, dear friends and much love to you all!

even when it isn't

all is calm. all is bright. 

and because it rarely is for any of us, we embrace the moment when it feels almost so. 

it’s why we love christmas. 

it’s why we love sitting in front of a crackling fire and gazing into the twinkling lights of our tree. 

we all have something deep inside which longs for a silent night. a holy night. just one tiny minute of a midnight clear.

and the weary world rejoices. it’s what we want. what we wish for—that thrill of hope!

it’s why we love christmas. 

but if we’re being honest with ourselves, we know that longing is not just for a mere night or a short season, but for a much needed savior. 

the babe born holy in bethlehem who came for this whole worn out, weary world. 

he, alone, is our calm and bright. our silent night. our joy to the world. 

oh, yes! our thrill of hope. 

even when--especially when--all is not calm and all is not bright.

dropping needles and droopy skin

our christmas tree is dropping needles at an alarming rate this week. in our house we aren't hearing sleigh bells jing-jing-jing-a-ling, but pine needles fall-fall-fall-a-ling. and because the tree is so ridiculously large, i'm pretty sure we currently have more puddles of needles under our tree than we do presents. it’s like we have our own evergreen rain shower right here in the living room. 

i'm telling you, the tree is dry. really dry.

but, apparently, so is my skin.

this weekend, on the hunt for stocking stuffers, i walked blindly into an ulta store and found myself immediately assaulted by a well meaning beauty guru and her well-stocked jars of cream. before i knew what was happening, she had my face slathered with her products while commenting and cooing about how my skin desperately needed nourishment. moisture! specifically, her expensive creams. apparently i was looking extra old and way too wrinkly and she seized the opportunity like any good cosmetic counter sales girl should.

needless (or needles) to say, she got my attention: clearly, i am not doing enough.

i came home with my package of much-needed creams only to find more needles puddling below the droopy boughs of my poor tree and felt a new, fast connection with my withering evergreen. 

o christmas tree, o christmas tree how lovely were your branches.

it’s no fun to feel dried up and droopy.

i was really hoping my tree might make it to the new year. as for me, i’d like to think i also have a few more new years ahead, but based on the beauty consultant’s comments, i am now seriously concerned. 

by the way, i do fully realize i could go the fake route -- both with my tree and my skin.  and i don't judge that choice one bit, might even at some point be tempted. but for the time being, i've been holding on pretty tight to the whole nature and natural thing. but i'll never say never. 

christmas trees and aging complexions, let’s be honest, they are in a constant state of decline. there’s really no getting around it. no matter what we pour into them or smear all over them, they eventually deteriorate. it’s just what happens. it’s the way it goes. no one expects our trees to last forever … or ourselves. dust to dust, and all that ugly jazz. 

that verse in isaiah 40 which says “the grass withers and the flowers fall …” well, thanks to my unfortunate encounter in ulta, that verse has been running through my head all weekend. i even invented my own version: “the needles drop and the skin sags …” perfect, right? sounds crazy, i know.

and i very well could get crazy and derailed this christmas thinking about that kind of stuff. i mean i came home all stressed out about my skin and my desperate need for, well, apparently everything. but later that day staring at my needle-dropping tree, it hit me—the thing i really need to keep well-watered is not my tree or my skin, it's my soul. that should be first and foremost. but, if i’m honest, it isn’t always my main concern. i can easily find myself fixated on temporal things like trees and treatments and quickly forget all about my own spiritual nourishment. 

i don’t know why that is so easy for us to do. but, gosh, is it ever.

after writing this piece, i do vow to completely refrain from thinking one more minute about dropped needles or droopy skin.  instead, when i gaze at my tree and or even into the mirror, i want to use that image, not as a sign of how quickly things are going south, but as a reminder to drink deeply from the living water which only Jesus provides.  

that isaiah 40:8 verse continues … “the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.”  

that, alone, needs to be my focus in this christmas season and in every season.

his birth brings life. and because of his coming, we have the most beautiful chance for eternal living. no tree preserving potion or skin treatment protocol can compete with the living water of our living God. 

“and the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” isaiah 58:11

before she started aging

mary didn't know

i think i was trying to look serene. like mary.
circa 1975?

part of growing up in sunday school was hearing the christmas story each december. as a small child, i could have repeated it pretty much word for wonderful word. i loved the predictability — the same scenes and the same sequence, year after year. with a bit of an overactive imagination, i played out the different dramas often and never questioned much of anything.

no room in the inn? sure. 

a babe born in a lowly manger? great. 

angels on high and shepherds in fields? fine. 

even three wise men? well, maybe …

but it was the angel-visiting-mary-thing, that eventually got me. wait, what? the sunday school teachers had always quickly glossed over that part. perhaps it had something to do with the mystifying word “virgin,” which sometimes invoked snickering from the back of the classroom, but, suffice it to say, we never camped very long on those particular verses. i can’t say as i blame them. i suppose if i was a sunday school teacher with a room full of well-sugared-christmas-crazed children, i, too, might have been prone to move swiftly past the mystery of it all.

but, as a young girl, i was perplexed. 

as was mary. 

in different versions of luke 1, we are told she was---troubled, deeply troubled, greatly troubled, perplexed, perturbed, deeply perturbed, confused, and startled.

imagine young, engaged mary glancing up from her bread making (in my mind biblical people were always making bread) and finding the angel gabriel perched right there in her room one day. maybe it was that imagination of mine, but i played that part out in my head as well and wondered how it must have felt for this inexperienced, teenaged girl. the bible says she was favored. but did she feel favored or did she feel just really, really afraid? 

an unannounced angel in her room?

i kind of worried about that as a kid. i was pretty sure i wanted God in my life, but i wasn’t so sure how i’d feel if he decided to send me an angel. the thought of waking one night to find a big glowing guy hovering in my bedroom’s corner, well, to be honest, that kind of freaked me out.

and, clearly, it freaked mary out as well. 

“and the angel came to her and said, “greetings favored woman! 

the Lord is with you.” but she was deeply troubled by this statement, 

wondering what kind of greeting this could be.” luke 1:28-29

deeply troubled? well, i should say so!

here’s the thing though—back in my sunday school days, i just assumed mary was bewildered because of the angel’s appearance and perplexed because of his big baby announcement. but if we look closer in luke 1, we find that wasn’t exactly the case. mary was deeply troubled prior to even knowing what God was going to ask of her. the bible doesn’t say it was the angel, but the angel’s statement-- “the Lord is with you.” it wasn’t gabriel, but it was his greeting which first startled mary. and he hadn’t even gotten to the good part! he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that she would supernaturally conceive … AND that it would be the very Son of God! it’s probably safe to say sweet mary’s emotional state sky rocketed a tiny bit after receiving the rest of the news.

it’s good news to us now. but was it good news to mary right off the bat? right out of the angel's mouth? right at that moment in the corner of her kitchen?

i have to wonder.   

and in my wondering, i want to know—why was she deeply troubled by the words “the Lord is with you?”

isn’t that what we want? 

isn’t that a good thing?

a great thing?

the most comforting thing of all? 

it doesn’t say she was troubled by the angel’s visit or even by the big news of her baby, but she was troubled by “the Lord is with you.” we use those same words to impart blessing and encouragement and great comfort. but, strangely enough, mary found them, at first, quite unsettling. 

when God is evident in our life — invited in and clearly present — it is good news, but it can also leave us feeling a little out of sorts wondering what He is up to. wondering where He will take us. wondering what He might ask of us. 

sure, now we know the rest of mary’s story, so we can easily see the good news of gabriel’s visit, but i am reminded, even this christmas, that our own chapters aren’t quite finished. we don’t always know how the things in our lives are going to work out or work together. we are left wondering. we are even a little bit startled, perplexed and troubled when we see evidence of God at work. and though we celebrate Emmanuel —God with us — we know that sometimes “God with us” becomes less about our human control and more about His holy construction.

it is good news when God is present.

it is good news when God is at work.

but, dear ones, remember, even though we trust in God’s working all for good, we aren’t always promised complete understanding of the entire story. we aren’t chapters in the bible with final verses, we are his continued workmanship and He isn’t finished with any of us quite yet.

      “for we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, 

which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” 

~ ephesians 2:10

one year i got to play mary in our church christmas pageant. i’m not going to lie, i did feel quite favored. i felt like the luckiest little girl in my small sunday school class that christmas. i got to wear the blue sheet and sit center stage and hold the wee (plastic) babe. but at that age, it was all still just a bit of a fairy tale. i am not sure i wanted to get too close to this God who asked big things of small people like mary. oh to be sure, i wanted to play mary in the pageant, but i had no desire to follow in her footsteps. i suppose i still feel like this at times.

having babies of my own has made me more empathetic to sweet mary. to the best of my knowledge, i’ve never been visited by an angel in my kitchen---i also, by the way,  have never made bread in said kitchen---but i’ve certainly understood what the presence of the Lord in my life has sometimes required. and i’ve watched how even when His working has felt foreign or caused some fear, it truly was favored. even though it was hard, it became holy. even though it seemed too great a need, it became good news. my imagination can, on occasion, still be a little overactive, but, even so, i still don’t have the entire picture played out perfectly. and, the (other) good news is i don’t have to. gabriel’s final words to mary, “for no word from God will ever fail,” (vs. 37) is the beautiful promise we can hold tight to, even when we don’t know exactly what He is up to. 

and that is the very best news of all. 

merry christmas!