i’ve had, well, let’s just say, more than one of these (thank you depression, for giving me so much blog material. you’re so very generous). and to make matters worse, when i’m floundering in the haze of this craziness, it never fails, while running to grab the burning bread from the toaster oven, or chasing a kid fleeing from a diaper change, i will stub the little toe on my right foot. every. frickin. time. why, when i’m overwhelmed and off, do i subconsciously miscalculate the length of the smallest digit on my rightmost lower appendage? i don’t know. but i do it. and it hurts. and i get mad. and i hop around holding my toe, mumbling words i hope my kids never repeat in public.

recently i was having one of these mornings. i was frustrated and confused about being unemployed and not knowing what our future held, and was feeling unproductive, sad, and overwhelmed. i was standing in our kitchen, leaning back against the counter, toe still slightly throbbing, expressing all this to lindsey who was a patient and supportive listener. shelby was playing with toys on the floor just a few feet away, and after i’d talked for a while she (shelby) stands up, looks at me and says,

“papi, i know what message you need!” 

and she darts off toward her room. i wasn’t sure what she was talking about. what message did i need? what message was i so strongly thirsting for at that moment, that a four-year-old sensed it? a few seconds later she comes back and hands me a page from a coloring book that she had beautifully colored in church. it was a picture of a young smiling girl who was declaring these four simple words,

“jesus cares for me!” 

jesus.
cares.
for.
me.

as i took the paper from shelby i gave her a hug and sincerely thanked her. then i paused briefly, consciously breathing a little slower, and tried to soak in at least a drop of this ocean of truth, this one short phrase holding an eternity of meaning.

and in these four words this is what i heard…i heard that i was not alone. i heard that jesus loved me and was with me. i was reminded that there was someone infinitely wiser, more creative, more energetic and more capable than me carrying the responsibility of guiding our family and providing for us not only today, but tomorrow and the next. i received affirmation that it was safe to express my emotions and thoughts and fears and to show my “down” side…jesus has known me at my worst, and adores me! (this was reinforced by my lovely bride being a gracious presence during my tough morning–thank you, baby!). i needed all of this.

all of my “problems” didn’t miraculously go away, i didn’t start singing “zip-a-dee-doo-dah” at the top of my lungs, and my toe didn’t immediately grow a titanium exoskeleton (though that woulda been freakin awesome!). but i could rest a little, remembering that the loving god knows me and my family by name and always has us under his wing. i could exhale a bit, knowing in my heart that,

“jesus cares for me!”

i’m not pretending to be as spiritually aware as a child, but today, right now, maybe this is the message you need.     

…stay-at-home parenting is hard work! 

how do you get anything done other than just taking care of the kids? that, in and of itself, seems like a full-time job, let alone adding the daily necessary chores, like laundry, cooking, cleaning, eating, and attending to personal hygiene (some things are becoming optional)! and on top of all that, we (stay-at-home parents) are apparently supposed to update our facebook status regularly?? well, just so people don’t think i’m falling behind in my new responsibilities, i’m really focusing on writing a new facebook status that gives people an authentic glimpse into my life at home.

here’s what i have so far,

(written with an exuberant and peaceful smile) “Ah, another perfect start to a perfect day! it’s not even 10am yet and i’ve already finished the laundry, baked gluten-free cinnamon rolls, grocery shopped and meal planned for the week, worked out (twice), dropped off canned goods for the homeless, read the new testament (in greek), scrubbed the floors, paid the bills, lost 4 pounds, spent quality time reading books to the kids and playing with them (after they slept soundly for 13 hours), lost another 4 pounds, hand-made 25 thank-you cards to send to my friends and neighbors to thank them for, well, for just being them”

it needs tweaking a bit, but it’s coming along nicely. but i do have a confession to make…buckle yourself in for this one…as i hinted to at the beginning of this post, my life as mr. mom doesn’t actually look exactly like that now, or ever. i know, i know, you’re shocked. but it’s true.

right now there is load of laundry in the washer that has been there damp for over a day, but i can’t switch it over to the dryer because there are clothes that have been sitting in there for over two days. the bathroom needs a good cleansing, the crock-pot still has disgusting chicken-water in it from the chicken i made four days ago (!), half of the sand from big corona beach is on our floor, and we’re out of bread.

a few days ago i lit a kitchen towel on fire while making brown rice. brown rice! and i don’t mean that i just singed the fuzzy edges, i’m talking it was on fire, like full-on flames leaping and licking at my now-dishwater-hands! i kinda freaked out and possibly screamed like a young girl and threw the towel into the sink and cranked the water on as fast as possible (come to think of it, i could’ve dumped the chicken-water from the crock-pot on it and killed two birds with one stone…crap. classic rookie mistake).

last week at one point shelby said, “papi, that toothbrush that angelina has in her mouth is the same one that mami and me use to spot laundry with poop on it.” sweet. i wondered if other parents have had to floss poop out of their kid’s teeth. awesome.

i do love being at home with the girls. so far, i enjoy it much more than going to a job. but i will say it again,

stay-at-home parenting is hard work!

which is why i also say “well done” to all you stay-at-home parents! you have a tough job that can use up unbelievable amounts of physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual energy. you have my respect. oh, and don’t believe everything you read on facebook (another shocker, i know. sorry, shoulda warned you).

but speaking of facebook, i’m gonna end this blog post because i really should get back to composing my new status update, so that i can prove myself worthy of my new title. let’s see, what is my soon-to-be-status still missing, oh yeah…

“and i planted an herb garden, and wrote a chapter of my book, and put the turducken in the oven so it’ll be perfectly juicy for the dinner party we’re hosting tonight, and connected deeply with five of my best friends, and lost yet another 4 pounds, and squeezed orange juice for breakfast, and had sweet communion with god while praying for the healing of the nations, and researched colleges for my four-year-old, and…”  

the break has been healthy for me. i have found myself fighting less feelings of guilt, inadequacy, and incompetence as i embraced my inability to live out my above mentioned dream.

recently though, my desire to write again has been stirring in me. more specifically, my desire to tell stories has been stirring…amusing stories and everyday ones and ones of god, us, and of him showing up in unexpected places in our lives. they have been filling up inside of me and i kept thinking, “this is just wrong to keep these to myself, these stories need to be told.” and then i remembered we have a website that contains a blog section, and, well, here i am. back. hopefully frequently, but maybe not. i’ll let you know on facebook (which i update regularly—and by “regularly” i mean about every 10 months).

considering that the name of our website is “our beautiful mess” i was glad to have stumbled into a situation (which is how it usually happens with me) that does justice to the name of the site. and so, it is with this story of beauty in the mess that i begin to blog, or continue, or whatever…again…..

many of you know that i battled depression and anxiety during our year in costa rica (2008-2009). although that battle was slightly lessened upon returning to the states, depression and anxiety still had powerful grips on me. a couple of months ago, my counselor suggested seeing a psychiatrist, which i had not yet done.

my lovely bride graciously assisted me in the overwhelming (to me) challenge of finding a doctor and scheduling an appointment. she looked online for psychiatrists nearby, and jotted down a list of them, in a somewhat random order. she called the name on the top of her list, but no one answered. then she called the second one, and again, no answer. her third choice finally yielded some results, and she scheduled an appointment. a week later she and i were in the car driving to see this doctor. it was a “perfect” day for a psychiatrist appointment–i was feeling “down” and had been moving slowly through the day in a heavy, life-draining fog that so often accompanies depression.i had never been to a psychiatrist before, and the whole drive there, i was slightly distracted by what i might encounter. when i thought of a psychiatrist, all i could think about were scenes from horror movies…i pictured lindsey and i walking warily down a long, dimly light, and chillingly cold hallway, the blueish flourescent lights above, buzzing and flickering on and off, our footsteps echoing loudly and our hearts beating out of our chests. In this imaginative psychiatrist visit, we hesitantly walk through the thick, steel door of the doctor’s office, and it slams and locks behind us. we stand face to face with the creepy old doctor, who of course has thin, bony fingers, squinty eyes that peer into my soul, and a devilish grin, all communicating to me that he wants to strap me in a chair and hook up wires to my brain for some evil mind experiment.

as i snapped back to reality i pulled into the parking lot of the office building in transylvania, i mean, newport beach. as we entered the building, i was surprised and relieved to find the hallway pleasantly lit, and the office lobby calm and safe. whew. and you may think i’m exaggerating (and i might be, slightly), but strangely i did have continual thoughts of a horror flick flashing through my mind, and when i walked into the lobby i instantly felt some fears subside and i could sense my body relaxing a bit.i slumped in a chair and lindsey graciously filled out the paperwork for me, as i was just too overwhelmed with life to think straight. legal paperwork drains my brain and stresses me out on a “good” day, and on this day I probably would’ve just broken down into tears of defeat trying to remember my date of birth.after several minutes, the psychiatrist walked into the lobby and invited us back to his office. he was an older egyptian man, with a soft voice. he was kind and welcoming and gave off no vibe whatsoever that he would experimentally try to switch my brain with that of a chimpanzee. still slightly apprehensive and nervous though, i stepped into his office and for whatever reason, immediately scanned the books on his shelves. i was surprised and intrigued to see several familiar theology books and bible commentaries. immediately i could feel myself relax a bit more, both inwardly and outwardly, as i realized this doctor was most likely a jesus-follower, like us (which he was).

he asked questions and i told him my story and he listened, and i soon felt at ease with him. i had a growing sense of confirmation that seeing a psychiatrist had been a wise choice. as the conversation continued, i noticed a rare spark of excitement ignite inside of me, as i realized that he understood me and had confidence he could help. i started to let myself believe that i might actually begin to heal! at the end of the appointment, with encouraged hearts, we thanked him and were about to stand up to leave, when he asked if he could pray for us. i was surprised, but grateful that he would take time to pray. in his soft voice, and strong middle-eastern accent, he prayed and acknowledged god as our ultimate healer and provider.  he prayed that god would lead us to the best medicine to help me, that my body and mind would be restored, and that i could find hope. he prayed for our marriage and for our little girls.

about halfway through his prayer, tears started pouring out of my eyes (hey, i’m a cryer, ok). i was overwhelmed, but this time with awe and thankfulness, that god had actually seen me and had heard my cries for help, that he had led us to this kind and caring doctor, the third choice on our completely random list. i was overcome with relief to have this brother-in-christ so compassionately come alongside me in my battle, to fight with me and fight for me–for healing, for wholeness, for truth, and life. my heart was also full of gratitude for a brave, supportive, and encouraging wife who didn’t judge my brokenness, but instead jumped into the dark, foggy places of my life and grabbed my arm and helped me stumble toward light and clarity.when he finished praying, I wiped my eyes and we all stood up and walked toward the door. i reached out my hand to shake the doctor’s hand and he walked closer to me and smiled and gave me a big hug. again, tears (i’m a hugger too, what can i say?).as he, lindsey, and i walked to the lobby, our conversation turned to options for payment of the doctor bills, as our finances were tight and our insurance basically sucked. he looked at us and said, “don’t worry about that at all, we’ll work something out. I am a christian, and i am not here to make a living, i am here to make a difference” (!!)

lindsey and i walked away hand-in-hand with smiles pasted on our faces. we got in the car and thanked god for so perfectly orchestrating this meeting between us and this doctor. I never would’ve dreamt that my first visit to a psychiatrist would be one of the highlights of the year!

our kids were with a babysitter so we decided to make a date-night out of it, and drove to our home-away-from-home, chick-fil-a, for a quick dinner. walking in to the restaurant, i think i had a skip in my step! the normally friendly employees seemed even more friendly to me, and i swear the lemonade tasted just a little lemonadier (?)! lindsey and i chilled and laughed and enjoyed the moment and talked optimistically about even better days coming. if you had seen me just a couple hours earlier, in the lobby of the doctor’s office, head in my hands, shoulders slumped, and then now laughing over dinner,  you would’ve sworn that my brain did actually get switched with that of a cheerful circus chimp, because i was a different person. it’s a powerful thing when darkness retreats in the presence of light and when hopelessness cowers from new hope.

though i would’ve never invited depression and anxiety to accompany me on my daily journey of life, i have been able to experience glimpses of salvation and redemption in ways i never would have. sometimes the mess actually helps magnify the beauty, making it plain and clear to see, for those of us with poor eyesight. but how about you?? is there light breaking in to your darkness today? can beauty be found in your messiness here and now? do you have stories of redemption? these stories cannot be kept to yourself! your stories need to be told!

“It’s like this when you live in a story: The first part happens fast. You throw yourself into the narrative, and you’re finally out in the water; the shore is pushing off behind you and the trees are getting smaller. The distant shore doesn’t seem so far, and you can feel the resolution coming, the feeling of getting out of your boat and walking the distant beach. You think the thing is going to happen fast, that you’ll paddle for a bit and arrive on the other side by lunch. But the truth is, it isn’t going to be over soon.

The reward you get from a story is always less than you thought it would be, and the work is harder than you imagined. The point of a story is never about the ending, remember. It’s about your character getting molded in the hard work of the middle. At some point the shore behind you stops getting smaller, and you paddle and wonder why the same strokes that used to move you now only rock the boat…the far shore doesn’t get closer no matter how hard you paddle.

The shore you left is just as distant, and there is no going back…I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids and change the way people buy office supplies. But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can’t see the distant shore anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting smaller and none of the trees ahead are getting bigger…and they go looking for an easier story.”

When I originally read this a few months ago, I was blown away by how much I related to it. I didn’t relate to the actual kayaking part of it–the only time I have been in a kayak was on a cool evening several years ago with my ex-friend Mark Johring, who promised it would be fun and we wouldn’t get wet (I was in work clothes having just come from my 8 to 5), but five minutes into our adventure we barrel-rolled out of control underneath/through a barbed-wire fence that was stretched across the river (?), and when I was able to finally pop up out of the water and catch my breath all I knew was that i was completely drenched and gasping for air while I watched my favorite baseball cap float down the river without even giving me a chance to say good-bye (you still owe me for that, Mark, and you cannot put a price on a perfect-fitting cap). So, like I said, I didn’t really relate specifically to the kayaking aspect of Miller’s story, but I easily connected with the analogy of it as I thought about us leaving behind our old plans of going to Peru and setting out to find a new direction for our family.

We feel like we are in the middle of the water, paddling and paddling. We had hoped we would be on the other shore already, not necessarily kicking back in the shade with a picnic lunch, but at least laying on the sand catching our breath and resting our arms. It hasn’t gone quite that smoothly. We are still confident that we were supposed to shove off into the water (leave our plan of going to Peru with World Team), but we had underestimated the distance to the new “shore” (a new vision, purpose, direction, job, place to live, etc.). But we don’t want to take the easy way out, whatever that would be. We want to live a story that sometimes takes us through challenging times, but changes us for the good and inspires others. We want to believe that God is just as present in the open water of the crossing as He is at the “destination.” But we also have to believe that we will not be paddling like this forever, and will soon rediscover a rhythm for our family and a more restful place.

Thank you all for asking about us, checking in with us, and praying for us! On a side note, I would highly recommend reading Donald Miller’s book, and I would not recommend kayaking with Mark Johring.

Our little Shelbs turned 2 today!

If you would hang out w/Shelby on her 2nd birthday, you would learn that she:

drinks agua, “pop”, “leche de vaca” (milk from a cow), and hot tea
pretends to be a baby lion
sings all of “twinkle twinkle little star” (or rather “tinkle tinkle little star”) by herself
doesn’t like brown crocodiles, but likes purple ones
requests the stories of noah, jonah, and namaan, from the bible
looks forward to watching “Dora” every morning
eats yogurt and eggs for breakfast
enjoys food more if she has “dippy-dippy” (especially ketchup) to go with it
prefers her hair in her eyes rather than clipped up
searches for the moon in the sky at night and during the day
jokes around by putting “nunu” at the end of words (mama-nunu, papa-nunu, puppy-nunu)
asks to play with the “bright-lite” (lite-bright)
thinks blenders are too loud,
and
LOVES her mama!

Shelby, our family is indescribably blessed because you are a part of it. We thank God that He gave you to us. We love you–Happy Birthday!!

Christmas came around and we had been in Bolivia and Dr. Pepperless for about 6 months—a long 6 months. My grandparents flew down to visit, which was a great present in-and-of itself. But, I will never forget the gift they brought my siblings and me. Under the odd-looking Christmas tree that we had made from tying Eucalyptus branches together, was a 20-ounce bottle of Dr. Pepper for each of us! It was a better surprise than if we would’ve received a bar of gold (because with a bar of gold, you still couldn’t buy DP in Bolivia). Our eyes lit up! We could barely believe it was true. I remember unscrewing the cap, and listening to that familiar fizzy sound when a soda is opened, and then just closing my eyes and smelling the goodness. Who new Heaven could fit in a 20-ounce bottle? That first sip was a holy moment. Unforgettable. Definitely the best $1 my grandparents have ever spent on me.

I think God smiled when He watched us enjoy that Dr. Pepper. He seems to like those kinds of surprises. All throughout the Christmas narrative (the Biblical one, not the Bolivian one), we see God surprising His kids with life-changing gifts. Gifts that caused their eyes to light up and gifts that would be talked about forever.

Picture this: Zechariah’s wife was barren (something that caused shame in those days) and past the child bearing age. Yet she and her husband yearned for a child. The prayed for a miracle. Zechariah comes home from work one day and says (or rather, carves in stone), “Hi Honey, I’m home. Long day at the temple. Oh, before I forget, I won’t be able to speak till you give birth to the forerunner of the Messiah. What’s for dinner?”
Surprise.

Or how about this one: “Hi Mary! Oh, please don’t freak out, I’m just an angel of the Lord. Hmm, I guess I can see how that may seem kind-of crazy. But seriously, if that is hard to believe then you’d better sit down for this next part.”
Um, surprise.

Let’s not forget the shepherds in the middle of the night:
“Sure is quiet tonight.”
“Yep.”
“Cold too.”
“Yep.”
“And extra dark.”
“Yep.”
“Did you watch ‘Dancing With the Shulamites’ last night?”
“Yep”
“I thought the judging was tough and the dance-”
“GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST! PEACE, GOOD WILL TO MEN!!!!”
Surprise.

In the language spoken by most people at the time of Jesus’ birth, there was a word that meant “surprise gift”. Interestingly, the word also communicated the ideas of “grace” and “joy.” God’s story of His Son showing up here on earth is filled with surprise gifts, showing us grace and producing joy. The story is filled with those things because God is all about those things. When we experience great surprises this Christmas, it can serve as a reminder of who God is and what He is like. We can reflect who God is and reveal Him more clearly to the world by surprising others with gifts that speak grace and spread joy. How can we live out this life-changing theme of the Christmas story this week?

Response ideas:

1. Tell your kids you have a surprise for them, and let them open a small Christmas gift early. Observe their reaction and excitement. Assuming they are excited, ask God to help you to have a similar response when you receive gifts from Him.

2. Bake and decorate sugar cookies with your children and then deliver them (the cookies, not the kids) to someone who would not expect them (the mailman, the gardeners, the neighbor you don’t know very well, the neighbor who doesn’t like you)

3. Practice “relational giving.” Give creative, thoughtful gifts that provide opportunity to deepen your relationship with others, and/or communicate how well you know them and how much you love them. For example, give a gift that enables you to spend time with the other person, making a memory with them, such as tickets to a concert, or a fun project to do together.

4. Invite yourself over to a friend’s house and bring dinner.

5. If you receive an incredible gift that is a surprise, thank God and whoever gave it to you for the reminder that God is one who graciously gives surprise gifts to us.

My dad is a high school vocal and instrumental music teacher. He always taught us that when singing or playing music, we should pay close attention to the “rests” (the silent pauses in-between the notes) because they are just as important as the notes themselves. If there were no rests, all the notes would end up running together in noisy, monotonous chaos, and the beauty and effect of the music would be lost.

Sometimes our Christmas seasons are like music without the rests. All notes and no pauses. No silence. There are so many errands to run, presents to buy, events to attend, that Christmas becomes more like a month of noisy chaos than a musical masterpiece that stirs the soul.

In reflecting on the first Christmas, it is clear that God used silence, “rests” so-to-speak, to help communicate the story of His Son’s arrival on our planet.

Before Jesus showed up in smooth skin and swaddling clothes (think 1st century onesies), there were 400 years of silence! For centuries, prophets had been proclaiming the message of God, and then there was just nothing. No prophets. No new writings. No podcasts. Nothing. Israel waited. It was almost like the calm before the storm. Something big was coming.

As the 400 years came to an end, a old priest named Zechariah received some news from an angel–news that his wife would become pregnant with John, the one who prepare the way for Jesus. But Zechariah didn’t believe the news, and God hit “mute” on his vocal cords till the baby was born. Think about it, nine months of no talking. You know what usually happens when you talk less? You listen more. Nine months of listening in preparation for the coming Messiah. Interesting.

When Joseph got hit with the scandalous news that his fiancé was pregnant, his life would’ve gone into a tailspin. His hopes and dreams shattered, his heart crushed. His waking hours would’ve been consumed with the whirlwind of thoughts, questions, and feelings surrounding this unanticipated situation. Which may be precisely why God waited till Joseph was asleep. In the still, quiet of the night, when all the gossipers were in bed, and the awkward conversations with family members were put on hold, God spoke. In a dream, God whispered peace, guidance, and purpose. And in the silence, Joseph heard. He woke up the next morning and for the first time, understood the meaning of Christmas.

Several months later in a remote corner of the Roman Empire, as the world slept, God showed up. God’s “Word” came to us, and the Word sounded strangely like a newborn baby. Have you ever taken care of an infant? When he/she is sleeping you probably use a baby-monitor, turn down your music, set the TV volume lower, do whatever you need to so that other noises don’t hinder you from hearing the baby. We pay attention and listen intently because the cry of a baby means something. Sometimes it means he is hungry, sometimes it means he is scared or mad or tired. A couple thousand years ago the cry of a certain baby meant that God had arrived. That was a cry to pay attention to.

That first Christmas, God used silence to speak to people and prepare them for His coming. Maybe God wants to use silence again, to remind us of His first coming, and prepare us for His return. Christmastime does not have to be a chaotic bunch of notes grating our ears. With silence, with “rests”, it can be a melody of peace, hope, and renewal. Let’s quiet the “background noise” in our lives so we are ready to hear God. Zechariah had heard God and was ready for Christmas. Joseph was ready. Are you ready?

Response ideas:

1. Three times a day, for the next week, sit with your palms up, to signify releasing (the worries and craziness of your life?) and receiving (the peace/message/love of God). Close your eyes, relax your muscles and take 10 slow deep breaths. Listen with your heart, mind, and ears for God. (You may be surprised at how foreign it is to just sit still and be quiet, especially during this season.)

2. Once this week, by yourself or with a spouse or friend, read the story of Jesus’ birth from the Bible (Luke 2, for example). Sit in silence for 60 seconds before you read and ask God to help you see the story, and Him, in a new way. After you’re done reading, sit in silence for another 60 seconds, reflecting on anything that God may have taught you from the story. If you are with someone else, talk about what you “heard” in the story. If you have children, re-tell the Christmas story to them, explaining that they need to listen closely, because afterward they are going to pick something they heard and liked (a thing, word, idea) in the story and make/represent that (animal, star, baby, love, whatever) using play-doh, markers, pudding-on-wax-paper like finger paint, etc. Take note of what your child makes. What significance does that hold in the story? Is there something about that that can teach you more about Christmas?

3. Turn off the TV for a day. For the rest of the week, when/if you watch TV, mute all commercials.

4. If you always have the radio going in the car (I do), wait 5 minutes before turning it on, proving to yourself you will not die if there is no background noise. You could even use your new-found silence to better observe your surroundings—Christmas decorations on houses, people, trees, leaves, mountains—or just try to be a better driver—haha.

We know this girl, Kristen, from Denver, who recently celebrated her 21st birthday. Her family threw her a huge surprise party. They secretly planned for months and months. They reserved a private room at a trendy sushi restaurant, decorated it, and invited 50 guests. They spent thousands of dollars to make this a special event. When the night arrived, Kristen just thought she was going out with some friends. She had no idea she was walking in to the most extravagant birthday party of her life.

Sadly, she was so overwhelmed that she had a difficult time enjoying the evening. Kristen is uncomfortable being the center of attention at large gatherings. And, she’s not even a huge fan of sushi. Later, she told us that she would have rather used the money spent on the party to pay for a couple long-distance friends to fly in and just hang out. Generally, she avoids big social events and instead prefers to just chill and spend quality time with a close friend. It was a shame that all this work, preparation, time, and money had been spent on something that the guest of honor really didn’t want. It was as if her family didn’t know her very well. They never asked her how she would want to celebrate her big day, and it seems, didn’t take the time to consider her personality and preferences.

Every December we throw a month-long birthday party. Supposedly it’s for someone else…supposedly Jesus. Yet, how many of us have paused to actually ask Jesus how He wants us to celebrate His birthday? (I’m not raising my hand.) Have we spent time considering who He is and what His preferences might be? How would He prefer our money to be spent? How would He choose to have us use our time and energy this month? In what ways could we celebrate so that it is obvious to the world that Jesus is the guest of honor?

Now, don’t get me wrong, Jesus loved a good party with good party food and drinks (remember, His first miracle in the Bible was making incredible wine at a wedding party). And God is the greatest gift-giver ever. So I’m not suggesting we throw out the presents, chocolate covered pretzels, and fun family traditions (I still cheered when I saw Santa at the end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, and I still asked for a few more t-shirts for Christmas). I just wonder if Jesus showed up in person during the month of December would He recognize that we were ultimately doing all of “this” to celebrate Him? Do our actions and attitudes reveal that we really know Him?

We have the opportunity to refocus and re-align our holiday season with God and His desires. Let’s ask Jesus how he wants us to remember His birthday? Let’s take time to consider how we can creatively party in a way that reflects the guest of honor. Then let’s get to it…pass the chocolate pretzels and let the celebration begin!

Response ideas:

• Pray and ask Jesus to help you see how He wants YOU to celebrate His birthday (cause it will be different for everyone). Be looking and listening for His answer over the following days. Then act on what He communicates to you.

• Read stories about Jesus (from “Mark,” in the Bible, for instance) with your family, or talk with your family about familiar Jesus-stories, and write down things that seem important to Him. Then incorporate some of those things into how you celebrate. For example, off the top of my head I can think of Jesus helping the poor, widows & orphans, feeding people, spending time with people to get to know them better, visiting the sick (and healing them…but that may be a stretch for some of us–haha….maybe just visiting and praying for someone), letting children sit on His lap, building/making things (as a carpenter). This could be as elaborate as researching organizations that help the poor, and volunteering, or as simple as talking about the story of Jesus feeding the 5000 with bread and fish, and then have your kids give little boxes of goldfish crackers to their friends for Christmas. Or, you could have your kids draw a picture about Christmas and then give it to a neighbor so the neighbor can also remember Jesus this season.

• As you give a gift to a close friend or relative, think about your relationship with that person and the uniqueness of that person. Then creatively wrap/decorate the present in such a way that the one receiving it knows instantly it is for him/her, without having to read a nametag. (This can be done any number of ways. Think about using certain colors, pictures from magazines, little toys that represent something the person likes, candy/food tied to the gift, etc.)

• Eat cheap, simple dinners for a week (bean & cheese burritos, for example) and donate the money you saved to a global cause that helps those in need. Here are couple organizations doing really cool things:

A Way to Help — www.awaytohelp.org
International Princess Project -http://www.intlprincess.org/index.php/ipp/blog/P8/

Last year, in Costa Rica, we attempted to do a weekly family Advent celebration, to help bring a sense of intentionality and purpose to the 4 weeks leading up to Christmas. We only ended up being able to do that for 2 weeks, because we overestimated our ability, time, and energy available to plan an Advent celebration. We had big dreams for this year. We were going to do the full 4 weeks of Advent, but, here it is, almost a week-and-a-half into it, and we haven’t started. But we are starting tonight.

I have written a 3-segment Advent guide, to help us enter into the story of God becoming a baby and living with us. It will hopefully make us more aware of God’s presence with us, and will encourage us to actually invite Jesus into our often-misguided or distracted celebrations. We wish to have this awareness of God-with-us play out in our lives in such a way that blesses those around us.

I am posting the Advent guide below, in hopes that some of you might use it to help you focus on Christ this season. Each segment has a section to read, based on the themes of “Celebration,” “Silence,” and “Surprise.” Then I included some ideas of how we can practically and creatively respond, to remember these themes in the following days.

I wrote this with our family in mind, so some of the response ideas are family-oriented, but I am hoping many people–singles, couples, whoever—can use it and adapt it to their situation. Please do whatever you need to do to make it work for you. If you are a Dad of really small children, for example, you may want to read it with your wife (or put it in your own words, with your own examples) and then include the kids when you “respond,” explaining to them in a way they can understand, why you are doing what you are doing.

The response ideas are just that–ideas. You can choose some that I included, or think about your specific personality, resources, and situation, and come up with something different.

If you use this Advent guide, we would love to hear stories of what you did in response, and how that affected your celebration of Jesus this year. Please feel free to leave comments so that we can learn from you and be encouraged by your desire to celebrate differently this year!

Merry Christmas!

4–number of times we went to the beach (I thought it would be wayyy more–I mean, it’s Costa Rica! But, not everywhere is like the touristy pamphlets and websites. Living in the capital city in the middle of the country and not having a car or much money, makes things a lot more difficult.)

24–number of times I (Jason) went to the chiropractor (and should’ve gone more).

35–average number of taxis we rode in each month

7–number of locks we had to unlock to get from inside our apartment to the sidewalk

8–number of months in which we had to take an umbrella with us when we left the apartment

6–number of dollars per hour we paid our language helper, Kattia, to come to our house and help us w/Spanish

3–number of dollars per hour we paid Roxana for childcare and to help us with housework

57–number of seconds that our apartment shook during the earthquake that killed more than 20 people and left hundreds homeless

3–number of different types of monkeys we saw in Costa Rica

2–number of Nebraska football games televised in Costa Rica (which is 2 more than I thought there would be)