Stasi Eldredge's Blog, page 6

The Illusion of the Perfect

Scrooge was haunted by the spirits of Christmas Past, Present and Future and it led to his redemption.  I am haunted by the illusion of the Perfect Christmas.  May it lead to mine.

 

How many cookies must I bake for my home to feel as sweet as a Bavarian Bakery?

 

How many rooms must I decorate with sprigs of evergreen and boughs of holly before a chorus of Fa La La La La’s lighten every heart?

 

How do I think of, select, and wrap the perfect gift that conveys, “I see you.  You matter.  I’ve been paying attention”?

 

How many twinkle lights will fill my home with the Light I am after?

 

And how do I ward off the feeling that I am failing miserably to do any of this?

 

I don’t know.  You would think that after all these years I would have given up but I haven’t.  My longing to convey love is not diminished though the number of cookies I bake is.  The number of rooms I decorate has lessened dramatically but my desire to recapture something of the holiness of Christmas this side of Paradise and make room for the tangible Presence of God has only increased.

 

How about you?

 

Here’s an idea.  Let’s take the pressure off.  Pressure kills.  It kills relationships.  It kills joy.  It kills our ability to enjoy the partial that we are given to relish.  It’ll kill our Christmas celebrations.  Pressure even numbs our awareness of the glory of Emmanuel – Christ with us.  Pressure takes us out.  And we want to be present – to offer the gift of our presence to those around us is actually the greatest gift we can give them.  The loved ones in our lives don’t want a marvelous gift from a harried and pressured giver.  They want us.  They want our love given with a free hand that is an alluring fragrance of our Jesus.

 

Holidays – Holy Days - are not given to us to rise to the mandate of perfection but to rest and remember – to enjoy the gifts our holy God has given to us by his free hand and to receive his gifts with humbled awe and gratefulness.  We can’t wrap enough presents to respond in this way, we can only ask for the grace to wrap our hearts around this truth.  God wants our hearts open and ready.  He invites us to live from a place of trust and rest, not a place of pressure and demand.

 

We can demand so much of ourselves, can’t we? 

 

So let’s just get it out in the open.  No one’s Christmas is going to be perfect.    But perfection IS COMING.  On that day our longings and desires will be met with a filling that is currently incomprehensible.

 

Our Christmas on this side will not be perfect but it can be holy.  It can be glorious.  It can be good.  I’m being invited to lay down the illusion that I can pull this thing off.  Instead of that pressure, I’m being invited to rest in the love of God and remember that he alone is perfect and he loves perfectly.  This babe in a manger, this Lamb of God, this Lion of Judah, this God of angel armies, this Savior of the World has come.  He is coming.   He is coming again.

 

And when he comes in all his glory, every dream will come true for the richest among us and the poorest.  For the most healthy and the most infirm.  For the most seemingly blessed and the most horrifically oppressed.  Jesus is coming again. Justice is coming.  Love has already won and on that final and first day of Ultimate Triumph no illusion will shadow our hearts.  And so we wait eagerly as we hope earnestly.

 

Remember and rest.  The Way, the Truth and the Life reign supreme. 

 

We welcome you, Jesus.  Into the depths of who we are.  Into our celebrations.  Into our Christmas day and into all our days.  Into our hearts, our homes and our world.  Oh come, oh come Emmanuel.

 

 

Crashing In

It was to a dark world that Jesus came.  Light came into the darkness.  And as you know, where there is no light, darkness reigns.

 

Last week there was a shooting in Colorado Springs staged at the Planned Parenthood close to our home.  Nine people were injured, three were killed.  The funeral for the fallen police officer was yesterday.  Over 150 police cars in procession with people lining the street was a holy and sobering sight.  I didn’t know any of the people hurt or killed but those who did know them are just one step away from me.  Several friends of mine knew and loved these people.  Their children go to school together.  One man’s wife led my friend to Christ.  You get the idea.  A few weeks back there was another shooting in Colorado Springs.  It took place one block from my son’s house. 

 

Paris.  Beirut.  Syria.  Russia. Washington.  North Carolina.  Texas.  Southern California.  Next door.  The list goes on.

 

Killing.  Shooting.  Maiming.  Even if you don’t read or watch the news, you can’t get away from it. 

 

I needed to update this blog because as I wrote it an hour later the deadliest shooting in the United States since the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting that shook and shocked our nation to its core took place.  I told my husband not that a shooting took place but that another shooting took place.  I am praying for all those people and families involved even as a manhunt is taking place in Redlands where dear friends of ours live.  And you know the end of that story.  Still questions rise.  “WHY?”  The answer is, because of evil.

 

I cry out like you cry out, “Jesus!!! Help.  Come.  Help.  Come. Intervene!”

 

These are troubling times to say the very least.  Light came not into the light but into the Darkness.  And it is very dark.  Evil seems to have its way no matter what plans are in place to keep it in check.

 

I’m not saying anything new.  This world is a dark place.  Evil has come crashing in all over the world.  Civilians slaughtered.  It is getting worse AND there is nothing new under the sun.

 

But light has come crashing in, too.  Jesus has come crashing in.  He “snuck into the enemy’s camp disguised as a babe.”  The Ancient of Days bested the enemy and defeated him at the cross.  He is victorious.  He has won.  Light shines into the darkness and the darkness is vanquished.

 

And yet.  And yet here we are living in the in between times.  We find ourselves in the already and the not yet.

 

Francis Schaeffer wrote, “How Shall We Then Live?” and it remains a good question.  Perhaps it is the most important question.  How then shall we live?  Cowering in fear or living in victory knowing that nothing and no one can separate us from the love of God.

 

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38, 39)

 

We live knowing that this is not our home.  We live fighting for justice, being a voice for the voiceless.  We live with the battle cry that Jesus has come, has come for you and we stand ready to give an account for the hope that resides in us.  We have a hope that defies fear.  We have a hope that defies cruelty and suffering.  We have a hope that is victorious over all darkness.  Because we have the Light of the world.  And he has and is coming and would love to come again today – crashing in.

 

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

 

Where there are No Oxen, the Manger is Clean.

That’s what John used to say to me when I despaired over the disaster our home became after the whirlwind of our children passed through.  Not a very flattering comparison but one I understood.  And he just said it again because I had the luxurious gift of having my children home for Thanksgiving.

 

Baby, this manger isn’t clean.

 

How many glasses does one person need to drink out of in a day?  Apparently it’s a minimum of three.  Three times eight = twenty-four glasses spread out over the kitchen counter, the living room and mysterious places around the house.  And that’s just before lunch.  This place is littered with stacks of books and cozy blankets strewn haphazardly around.  There are pillows missing.  Empty bags of chips.  Empty bottles of Ginger Brew.  The two children who live in Spokane left this morning and I am discovering the remnants of their visit everywhere.

 

This manger is not clean.

 

I am so very glad.

 

It was a little different, this Thanksgiving.  I injured my glut a few weeks ago and I’m hobbling around using a cane, which helps some.  But I move slowly.  And it’s kind of hard to focus.  That said, no dish came out unscathed this year.  Ooops!   I forgot to add the broth!  Oh, dang it, cinnamon was supposed to go in that!  The turkey is filling the house with smoke!  WHY?  Yikes, I just dropped a mug and it broke into 100 pieces.

 

“Let’s play a game!” comes the cry from the other room while a daughter in law is cleaning up my mess.

 

I’ll admit it.  I like to be on top of my game.  And I’m so not.  I kept telling myself that it was more important that I be present to my family than that the food was perfect. A perfectly prepared Thanksgiving dinner where the main preparer is taken out by exhaustion and the illusion of perfection is not what we gathered for.

 

So I gave up on perfection early on and reminded myself that the food wasn’t the point.  Being together and loving one another was the point.  The prayer, “Love”.  “Help me to love.”  “Oh Father, you who are perfect love, please fill me with your love and love through me” was one I uttered often.   And he answered.

 

There was joy, laughter and the sharing of stories from the past year for which we were grateful.  Love reigned and provided a rich background of feasting and the meal was, shall we say, the cherry on top.  It was, as I most longed for, a taste of the feast to come.  And I am so very thankful.

 

I am now surrounded by quiet and a whirlwind manger of mess that soon will be, like my children, gone.  And I’ll take it. 

Distraction

I have so much to do this Saturday morning, afternoon…day.  It’s time to play catch up.  The laundry is almost finished.  Okay, there’s a pile on the couch, but hey, they’re clean, they don’t count.  I’m close.

 

It’s the pile of bills on the kitchen table that’s the mountain I need to conquer.  It is calling me.  I do feel a sort of victory that I have placed them so centrally.  I cannot ignore them.  There they are, challenging me.  Soon, yes, really soon, I am going heed their insistent and vital call.  Electricity is, after all, a nice thing to keep going.

 

So of course, I’m making a collage.  It makes perfect sense.

 

I’m flipping through magazines and the multitude of catalogs, searching for perfect motivational, truth-telling quotes and words for myself, because I think that is what I need.  Heat?  Come on.  I need Mod Podge, scissors, and a thick piece of paper.

 

And eureka!   I’ve just learned how cool it looks to carefully tear around the words rather than simply cut them in a straight line!   An artistic discovery has been made.  Valiantly I press on.

 

I am choosing to play rather than work.  Inside.  Where it’s warm.  Because of the heat.

 

Oh, how easily I get distracted.  I do know what’s important.  I know what my priorities ought to be.

 

That’s why I’m writing this little blog instead of first praying the Daily Prayer.

(Cue chagrined emoticon.)  Practice what you preach, sister.  (Hey, maybe there’s a way to put that on my collage!  Whoops, I digress. )  I’m going to pause.  I need Jesus more than I need self-expression and certainly more than I need the vast array of alternatives parading through my mind.

 

I’ll be back later.  I need to center my heart in the Truth.

 

- - -

I’m back.

 

I’ve paid the bills.  Now that I’ve discovered online banking, it didn’t even take that long.  It’s the literal use of a knife to slit the top, pull them out, discover what they say, make the various piles, and figure out which ones need attention now and which ones can wait that threatens to overwhelm me.

 

Thank you notes can do me in, too.  Responding to emails.  Exercising.  Taking the dogs for their needed walk.  Making the bed.  Dusting.  Vacuuming.  Attending to the piles that spring up everywhere.  Brushing my teeth.  Oy.

 

Collage time.

 

What is it with me?  Meyers Briggs helps to explain my bent, but my personality is not my destiny.  I have the mind of Christ and so do you.  I have the Holy Spirit as my Guide and my Strength and my Intimate Friend.

 

It’s simply the choice to attend to what really matters that I so often find difficult.

 

The choice to be responsible.  The choice to care for my soul.  The choice to press into Jesus.  The choice to stop what I’m doing and simply BE with Jesus in quiet, in prayer, in worship.  To walk with Him through the requirements of life—the bill paying and cleaning up and tending to the gift of this life that He has given me. To choose to be thankful that I can pay the bills and have heat and when it’s appropriate, take the time to be creative!

 

Oh, Father, come and guide me this day into all the good gifts that you have for me (which include the satisfied feeling of ruling my God given domain).

 

Rein in my wandering soul.  Rein me in, oh, faithful God.

 

Rein me in to the here-and-now and in the practical expressions of living a life of faith, hope, and love.  Grow me up to choose to mature in You and not give way to distractions that keep me from pressing into Your vast, good heart.  Reign in me.

 

Oh, I just received a text.  Better look!  NO!  I’ll wait.  I need more of Jesus.  In order to live and love and be the woman I need to be this day, I need extended time with my God.  He’s my life and I need to catch up with Him.

 

 

It's Raining.

There are people who love autumn, people whose favorite season is the fall.  There are people who begin to decorate for Christmas at the first whiff of coolness in the air.  There are people who dream of winter and cocoa by a fire and snuggling up under a blanket to read.  Okay, yes.  That part's sounding really pretty good, but I AM A SUMMER GIRL.

Summer.  Summer.  Summer.  Summer.  SUMMER!

I kind of leave summer – or rather, it leaves me – kicking and pouting.  Sometimes crying.  Sometimes not believing that good is still coming.

I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to trust God, but I’m growing.  Trust is growing in me.  It’s not so much the summer that I love as the expressions of God’s beauty displayed in it.  And God is in the autumn,too.  He’s in the winter, the spring, and the summer to come.  Rhythms of his grace surround me and precede me.  There is beauty all around if I will but open the eyes of my heart to welcome it.

One of my favorite memories took place during a time away on a personal retreat near Buena Vista, Colorado.  It was…autumn.  (Surprise!)  I had gone for a walk in the woods following a path along a stream.  The aspens had turned their glorious golden hue and in the slight breeze were shedding their flower-like leaves.  The path was strewn with gold as I softly padded along.

“Well, if the streets in heaven are gold like THIS, then that will be beautiful!”  Sometimes I surprise myself.  My unconscious thoughts emerge in the most unexpected of times.  I realized that I had pictured the streets of gold in heaven as solid and hard, cold and undesirable.  But this gold – this living, moving exhibition – was filled with splendor.  Surely our divinely gorgeous and creative God will outdo himself beyond my best but limited imagination!

I sat down on a fallen tree and soaked it in.  I was surrounded by glory.  All my senses were taking in the wondrous works of our God.  The fragrant earth.  The rippling stream.  The gentle cool breeze.  The feel of the wood beneath me.  I could practically taste the pungent season.  I talked with God.  I listened to his still, small voice.

And I didn’t want to leave.  But eventually, my time ran out and sadly, I had to get up and return.

I saw that I could take a different path back, one that was new to me.  It curved in the distance and I could not see what was coming.  “Just like your life.”  God whispered.  Yes, I thought, just like my life.  “There is beauty ahead, Stasi.  But you will never see it, never experience it, if you choose to stay where you are.”

Big sigh.

I chose the new path.  My eyes were open and expectant for the fresh gifts that my God had for me.  Correction: that he HAS for me.  For he holds the future.  He precedes us.  And because he does, a great good is coming because he is there.

So fall is here and it’s raining.  And I welcome both it and all the good that is ahead!

“As I lay, with my eyes closed, I began to listen to the sound of the leaves overhead. At first, they made sweet, inarticulate music alone; but, by-and-by, the sound seemed to begin to take shape, and to be gradually molding itself into words; till, at last, I seemed able to distinguish these, half-dissolved in a little ocean of circumfluent tones: 'A great good is coming — is coming — is coming to thee, Anodos'; and so over and over again.” ~ George MacDonald, Phantastes

Why Strong Girl? Why Strong Women?

I want to clarify why I've been writing about  all this Strong Girl stuff.  Why #stronggirl?  Because I want to help raise up a generation (even those of us above their 50’s like me) who will press through – press through sin, harm, stereotypes, negative self-talk, addictions, abuse, societal limitations, restrictions, constraining definitions of beauty and femininity, failures, low expectations, loss of hope and many wounds.

I want them to LIVE wholeheartedly.   To believe God.  To stand firm in Jesus and follow Him, listen to Him first, last and in between.

I want them to LOVE.  To love God and to love others.  I want them to be strong enough to stand against the world’s raging current and bring the Kingdom of God wherever they are.

To that end, they will need to know, WE need to know,  that it’s being strong in Christ that is BEAUTIFUL.  It’s from Jesus, that we can receive a deep sense of value, worth, and dignity.  We can be strong in spirit and in integrity.  We can be “Every Day Strong” because we are leaning into Jesus.  He is our life and breath and being.  We need  to increasingly learn that our lives are no longer our own – that we have died with Christ and it is now His Spirit that lives in and through us – partnering with us, strengthening us, guiding us, comforting us, cheering us on – loving us as we have longed to be loved and need to be loved and ARE LOVED by the King of Love.

Knowing that and growing in that makes for one Strong Girl.  One mightily Strong Woman.  And I want to be one.  I want Jesus to be my strong even in my most weak, broken and doubt filled seasons.  He is my life.  Oh, to have girls – get that NOW.  So that’s why.  Why the T-shirts.  Why I’ve highlighted examples of strong women on my Facebook page.  To cast a vision.  To encourage.  To help us remember that it’s possible whatever our story.  We are not alone.  We are never abandoned. Let’s press on by His strength together!

Yah, so that’s why.

With such love and hope,

Stasi

Eph 6:10, Proverbs 18:10, Ps 73:26,  Col 3:3