The God who never sleeps was an infant in their arms

It’s been something every day for the last month. Holiday luncheons, Christmas programs, rehearsals and practices leading up to those programs, shopping for those in need and getting the gifts wrapped and to the drop off site by the deadline, staff dinner parties, work receptions, and everything else in between. The hustle and bustle of it all is part of what adds excitement to this season.

Doing so much more than you normally do can also wear you down and out. I succumbed to the exhaustion pretty early this year. By Dec. 3rd, I had chills, fever, congestion, and everything that goes with it. Since then, it has managed to stay with me in some form or another.

A couple of days ago it was late in the day and I was the only one in the building at work. It was quiet inside and dreary outside. I wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t concentrate on anything because my eyelids were so heavy. I may or may not have put my head down on my desk and taken a five-minute nap.

I just wanted to sleep. I needed the rest but I kept putting it off and moving it to the bottom of the to-do list. I’m old enough to know that humans can’t do what they need to do without sleep. The truth is, I’m not a very good sleeper. I’m a light sleeper and will allow any little distraction to keep me awake. Often the distractions are in my head. If there’s something that I need to do, I lie in bed thinking about it until I can get up and do something about it.

Usually my lack of rest or sleep can in some way be tied to worry or fear. There’s worry that I won’t meet the deadline, fear that I might let someone down if I don’t show up or measure up, and it goes on and on. All throughout the Bible there are verses that encourage us not to fear, not to worry, and instead, to rest. I think I need to go back and re-read some of those verses.

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.” Psalm 121

My rest is found right there in verse 3:  “He who keeps you will not slumber.”  God never sleeps. He never sleeps so that I can. I need to quit trying to do what only God can do.

Many Christmas carols sound like lullabies. “Away In a Manger” and “Silent Night” are good examples. They encourage us to consider the birth of Jesus, to think about how he came to earth as an infant.

When an infant is born in the world today, establishing a sleeping routine is important. Parents are proud and relieved when their baby finally sleeps through the night, or at least several consecutive hours.

How was it for Mary and Joseph? The God who never sleeps was an infant in their arms. Mary and Joseph, as newborn parents do, surely wanted to eliminate distractions and encourage his slumber. Jesus, who had never slept before, could hear Mary and Joseph singing cradlesongs not long after his birth. Wouldn’t that be a little awkward? Awkward enough to cause me to lose some sleep.

Jesus’ birth was only the beginning of the story. His life on earth, His death and His resurrection have shown us that He became one of us so that we could become like Him. He traded never having to sleep with fighting for time to rest, at least temporarily. Because of that, we can know that He knows firsthand how hard it is to be us.

He “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,  and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Philippians 2:7-10

So, He speaks with authority when He says, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  Matthew 11:28

Our help does come from Him. He will keep our lives, for this time forth and forever more. That’s Christmas.

This was originally posted December 25, 2016 on The Press and Standard website

The angels have never stopped singing

‘Tis the season for singing! I like and listen to a lot of new music, but when it comes to Christmas, there’s something about traditional carols that resonate with my soul. The whole story of Christmas comes from the ancient text of scripture, so in this case, it seems to me that old is good.

I sing with the Voices of Colleton Community Choir. We started practicing in August for the two presentations that were offered the first week in December.  When you prepare for the weekly rehearsals and listen to recordings of the music throughout the week, you know how it’s supposed to sound. Sometimes in rehearsals, it just doesn’t make it up to the “how it’s supposed to sound” standard. The basses and tenors drag the tempo, the high sopranos are flat, and everything else is the alto’s fault. In a full program of nine or ten songs, there always seems to be one particular song that trips us up. This year’s program was no different.

The night of the first performance arrived. Before it began, I took my place in the center of the choir loft among the 65 other singers. I silently prayed that no matter what we sang, especially on that troublesome song, that the audience would hear only the voices of angels. Not that our voices would sound like angels, but that actual angel voices would be joining us, singing over and above us. Certainly their voices would get it right. They have been singing God’s praises longer than anyone.

Angel voices have been heard on earth by human ears before. The shepherds heard an angel voice say, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Several traditional carols mention angels singing in the lyrics.

“Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the new born King.’”

“Silent night, holy night, wondrous star, lend thy light; with the angels let us sing Alleluia to our King; Christ our Savior is born.”

The words of those carols are centered on the night in Bethlehem when Jesus was born. But what about today?  Can you and I still hear angel voices?

Edmund Sears must have wondered the same thing.  In 1849, he penned the words to a poem that became “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” It’s a Christmas carol about angels singing, but not solely about the first Christmas night when Jesus was born. Most of it focuses on the era in which it was written.

We rarely ever sing them today, but based on the second, third, and fourth verses, Mr. Sears must have longed to hear the angels singing:

“Yet with the woes of sin and strife the world has suffered long, beneath the angel strain have rolled two thousand years of wrong: And man, at war with man, hears not the love song which they bring: O hush the noise, ye men of strife, and hear the angels sing.

“All ye, beneath life’s crushing load, whose forms are bending low, who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow; Look now! For glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing; Oh rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing.

“For lo! the days are hastening on, by prophet bards foretold, when with the ever-circling years comes round the age of gold; When peace shall over all the earth its ancient splendors fling, and the whole world give back the song which now the angels sing.”

When these words were written 167 years ago, America had been at war with Mexico. Zachary Taylor’s heroic efforts in that conflict catapulted him reluctantly into the presidency. There was a lot of noise in 1849 that distracted the world from the voices of angels.

Simply update the usage of the words “ye” and “lo” in those verses and you might think they were written about 2016. We’ve suffered long this election year — we’re still at war with each other about rights, the load of healthcare and education can be crushing. There have been many large decibel words spewed in 2016.

I don’t think the angels have ever stopped singing. I think they’ve been singing since before Jesus was born. We’re so busy making noise ourselves that we miss it.

As the Voices of Colleton Community Choir sang about the good news of great joy, I tried to listen for the angel voices I’d prayed for. I realized that angels did not join us in singing. What really happened was that we joined the angels in their glorious song of old. We proclaimed with the angels, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

The message that came clear that night: Peace on the earth and good will to men will come from heaven’s all gracious King.

This was originally posted December 18, 2016 on www.walterborolive.com

Sometimes it takes getting on your knees to see all the dirt clearly

Several years ago one of the ladies at church gave me a Ziploc bag of Amish Friendship Bread “starter.” She beamed and clucked about all the different varieties she had made. Some with peaches, some with nuts, coconut, bananas, and a variety of other yummies. I could tell she had been having a fun with this bread (actually, to me it’s more like cake).

For the record, I am not a baker. The extent of my baking skills ends with canned biscuits and Martha White muffin mix packets. This woman’s joy, however, was contagious so I took the Ziploc bag with gratitude and high hopes for that same kind of joy.

The starter is supposed to stay in the bag for 10 days. During that time, there are certain days you’re supposed to add more ingredients. The other days you simply knead the bag. On day 10, you mix in some more ingredients, then measure out four more starter bags to give your friends. With the mixture that is left, you add more ingredients and then bake it. Voila, delicious bread (aka cake).

With the busyness of life, I lost track of where I was in the 10-day cycle for the bag she gave me. I couldn’t remember if I was on an add-ingredient day or a knead day. I finally gave up and threw it in the garbage. I was a little embarrassed and defeated.  I hoped the friend who shared it with me had forgotten about it too.

The next time I saw her, she asked about it and I had to come clean. She was still excited about the whole project and very gracious, offering to bring me another starter bag. Which she did, only this time she brought it to me on Day 9. All I had to do was bake it the next day.

That next day was busy and I didn’t get started on the baking process until late in the day, but I wasn’t going to bed until this bread was warm and toasty. I hurried through the pre-bake steps and saved the cleanup until it was in the oven.

As it baked, I washed the mixing bowls and measuring cups and wiped down the counter. Then I noticed a drip of batter on the lower cabinet, so I bent down to reach it. Once I bent down, I noticed some flour on the floor. I got down on my knees with a Clorox wipe to get the flour up off the floor.

As I knelt there on my knees, I saw a few coffee ground specks that had fallen to the floor who knows when. On my knees, I saw a dried up drip of who-knows-what staining the white cabinet door under my sink. On my knees, I noticed tiny crumbs collecting in the corners of the floor that I couldn’t see when I was standing upright. On my knees, I saw the dust and dirt on the baseboards under the cabinets. On my knees, I saw the nasty dirt stains on my floor.

On my knees.

That’s when it dawned on me. Sometimes it takes getting on my knees to really see my own dirt clearly. All the stuff that’s messed up about my life, all the bad choices I’ve made, the responsibilities and opportunities I’ve ignored, failures due to my own stupidity, all the stuff I want to hide — when I get on my knees before Jesus, He shows me these things more clearly than ever before. He brings them to my attention to remind me that what I need to do about them is simply admit they are mine. Then give them to Him.

When I get on my knees before Jesus, my perspective changes. Not only do I see how big my pile of dirt is, I also see that great big pile as a measurement of the amount of forgiveness He has for me.

I can’t see it that clearly when I’m standing on my own two feet.

Only on my knees.

“Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Philippians 2:9-11

This was originally posted December 4, 2016 on www.walterborolive.com