Bringing God into the World

This past Sunday I asked the teenage girls in my small group to imagine getting the news that Mary received when she was visited by the angel. For them, stepping into Mary's shoes would be a small step. Most of them are in circumstances similar to Mary's in many ways:

They are young, innocent, from deeply religious families--on the brink of adult life, but not quite ready.

What would their response be if they were told that they would become pregnant--supernaturally, but out of wedlock? (I know unmarried pregnancy is not so scandalous these days, but these are Southern Baptists...)  How would they feel to receive today the news that Mary got?  God Himself was going to be placed within her, grow, expand her, pain her as she brought Him into the world...and ultimately save us all.

How would they react if they received this news:

"God is going to use you to save the world, but it is going to hurt on every level.  But--GOD is going to use YOU to save. the. world."

My point in stirring their imaginations was to show them the beauty of Mary's response.  Faced with such daunting, life-altering news, she sang the Magnificat--a beautiful hymn of praise, trust and celebration.

"Blessed am I...."

Today as I sit in the quiet and think on the nativity again, I am floored by this thought:

I'm no teenager, but I am more like Mary than I realize.

Having repented and followed Christ, I am like Mary in that I received God within me through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

God Himself is within me, and if I allow it--if I nourish and attend to the Spirit, He will grow and stretch me.  As a result, I'll experience great excitement, purpose, anticipation and joy--but the stretching will also bring discomfort.

When I share the Spirit in me with the world, it will very likely cause me pain.  This world is certainly a place that often shouts, "No room!" to His presence. The current culture has no problem with the Universe looking out for me, but squirms if I claim the God of the universe does. Therefore, for me--an educated woman from an intellectual and scientific community-- to follow the God of the Bible will no doubt bring me disdain in the eyes of many whom I value.  Disdain hurts.

So, I realize today I must ask myself the same question I asked the teenagers:

What will my response be to the news that God has chosen me to carry His Son to the world?

Will I fear the discomfort, attempt to escape the pain, and lament the heavy load I carry within?

Or will I--in spite of it all--be awed by the reality that God would use me to save the world.

Me.

Oh, Jesus, let the words and heart of that young Mary also be the response of this old Mary:

"Oh, how my soul praises the Lord.  How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior! For he took notice of his lowly servant girl...."

#628-#647

628. Getting to share in the close fellowship of my mom-in-law's small church.

629. Believers who have retired from their professions, but not from ministry.

630. Uncle Jeff cutting up with the kids.

631. Stargazing by a warm fire--loving Google skymap!

632. Egg #5!

633. 101 Things to do with caution tape, by Ashley and Hallie

634. Cousins who don't worry about "blood" relation.









635. Camille safely here!

636.  Picking up where we left off.

637. Humility lessons

638. Little brown rooster nursed back to health after being bullied.

639. One full serving of peas from the garden.

640. UNO every night.

641.  Camille's funny and very French facial expressions.

642. Loud family Christmas Eve dinner.

643. Odell sleepover.

644.  Friends around the fire Christmas night.

645. Reed's nom nom shirt from Noah.

646.  More UNO to help Camille connect.

647. Kids who appreciate being rich in relationships more than rich in stuff.  Empty stockings but full hearts.

What's in a Name?

Mary.

This is her season!  Of all the seasons of the year, this is the one where we remember the girl from Nazareth and her sacrifice.  She is extra special to me because I share her name.

A couple of years ago I was challenged to dig into the real meaning of my name because names are more important than we realize.

For example, I have an acquaintance whose parents named her Sarah because it means "God's Princess."  Sarah grew up to adopt children from Russia, South America and Africa.  One day as she and her girls were reading from Genesis, they came to the passage in which God changed Sarai's name to Sarah, promising that she would become the mother of many nations.  As she read the words, her oldest squealed, "Mommy, that's you!"  Her parents didn't know what her future would hold when they named her, but God did.

During the same challenge, a dear friend of mine researched her name and found that combined together, the three parts of her name mean strong, fair warrior--and she is!

Imagine, then, my delight when my research revealed that Mary means "Sea of Bitterness."

Sea of Bitterness.

How's that for a name?

The Mother of Jesus was named "Sea of Bitterness."  Really? 

Bitterness?

This is the woman who, when told she was "chosen" to bear God's Son (no pressure there!) amidst scandal and great risk, she responded with a song of praise, declaring "blessed am I above all women."

If that isn't sweet, I don't know what is!

Oh....
 I think I get it.

Perhaps the key is that although Mary's circumstances were bitter, she did not drown in a Sea of Bitterness because she chose praise instead.

Exodus 15 contains a biblical account of a REAL sea of bitterness, "Marah."

After the great Red Sea miracle, Moses led the Israelites into the desert of Shur.  For three days they went without water.  It was a pretty thirsty mob that arrived at the oasis of Marah, only to find the water too bitter to drink.

Moses faced a very cranky throng.

Wisely, he cried out to God for help.  The Lord showed Moses a piece of wood, which Moses threw into the water and (I love this part) the water became sweet.  My Bible says it was "good to drink."

Sweet.

Like Mary of Nazareth, I may encounter extremely bitter circumstances in my life.  I can grumble and complain like the Israelites and have only bitterness to drink, or, like Moses I can cry out to God.

I believe that Mary provides a beautiful picture of the "wood" God shows me to toss into the bitter water of circumstance.

Trust.  

"I am the Lord's Servant....May your word to me be fulfilled." (Luke 1:28)

Praise.

My soul glorifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for He has been mindful of the humble state of His servant.
From now on all generations will call me blessed, 
for the Mighty One has done great things for me--holy is His name.
 (Luke 1:46-49)

If I trust that He is always good,

If I praise Him for His attributes and His gifts,

Then the water of my circumstances will become sweet

good to drink

life giving.

THAT is what's in my name.  I love it. 

#611-#627

611. Egg #3!

612. Misty haze over a sunny morning pasture.

613. Prophets in every generation.

614. At least two Ukrainian orphans coming to Orlando--Lord, help them find forever families!

615. Psalm 133:1 How wonderful and pleasant it is when brothers live together in harmony.

616. Aspirin.

617. Fresh cilantro from my garden!

618. Homemade salsa.

619. Blossoms on the bean plants!

620.  New shoot of elephant garlic.

621.Watching my magician perform with confidence and personality.

622. Korean Santa: Too funny!

623.  Hay rides for high schoolers.

624.  Stirring words and melodies of worship written by my Songbird.

625. Happy Girl and Clive--so silly.

626. Workouts for Charlie.

627. New twists on foot photos.

An Unlikely Story

During Advent we prepare for the coming of the Christ child. One would think that the obvious place to turn in the Bible during Advent preparation would be places like Luke, Matthew, or Isaiah. However, I am discovering this year that God began writing the Christmas story long before even Isaiah. Even more, in His story He demonstrates that He can take even what is ugly and broken and bring about beauty and restoration.....

Genesis 19: 31-32, 36-37 

 One day the older daughter said to her sister, “There are no men left anywhere in this entire area, so we can’t get married like everyone else. And our father will soon be too old to have children.  Come, let’s get him drunk with wine, and then we will have sex with him. That way we will preserve our family line through our father.”.... As a result, both of Lot’s daughters became pregnant by their own father. 

How is that for a heartwarming Christmas story? Can I just say YUCK?!

As stomach-turning as their sexual sin was, the deeper sin was their unbelief. They did not trust God to provide for them, so they acted in fear and took matters into their own hands.

(Sounds just a bit too familiar to me when you look at it that way!)

 When the older daughter gave birth to a son, she named him Moab. He became the ancestor of the nation now known as the Moabites. When the younger daughter gave birth to a son, she named him Ben-ammi. He became the ancestor of the nation now known as the Ammonites. 

By taking matters into their own hands, Lot's daughters achieved their short-term goal of having sons, but sin has consequences. The Moabite and the Ammonite people that resulted from this sin were generational enemies of Israel.

Not a good thing, to be on bad terms with God's chosen people.

The message is clear: Sin costs.

However....

Look at how the Master Weaver shows us that even the most despicable sins can be redeemed.

Ruth 1:22 

...Naomi [an Israelite] returned from Moab, accompanied by her daughter-in-law Ruth, the young Moabite woman. 

A Moabitess, descendant of the sin of Lot's daughters, is redeemed by her mother-in-law's relative, a man named Boaz. Together they were the parents of Obed, who was the father of Jesse.

Isaiah 1:1-2

And a shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the LORD will rest on Him—The Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge of the fear of the LORD. 

Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, came from Boaz and Ruth.

But wait—it gets better. Ruth's side is only half of the story:

Joshua 6:25

So Joshua spared Rahab the prostitute and her relatives who were with her in the house, because she had hidden the spies Joshua sent to Jericho. And she lives among the Israelites to this day.  

You see, there was this prostitute in Jericho...


Lowliest of the lowly in that time, a woman....and a “harlot” at that, she recognized the Truth when she saw it. She recognized SOVEREIGNTY and feared the Lord more than her people. Because of her faith in Him, He not only spared her, He blessed her.


She lived among the Israelites and even may have married one--

Matthew 1: 5-6 

Salmon was the father of Boaz (whose mother was Rahab).


if this is indeed our Rahab, she married a man named Salmon. And God blessed her with a son


....named Boaz

…..who married Ruth

An Israelite and a Moabite.

What a creative, redemptive LORD we have!

In Ruth, God restored what was ruptured by Lot's daughters. He bound together people divided by centuries of enmity.

In Boaz, He redeemed not just the family of Naomi, but the past of Rahab.

For out of Boaz

out of Ruth

came the Ultimate Restoration. Immanuel. God with us.

 Boaz was the father of Obed (whose mother was Ruth).
 Obed was the father of Jesse.
 Jesse was the father of King David.... 

...16 Jacob was the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary.


Mary gave birth to Jesus, 

who is called the Messiah. 

How beautiful is that?

Redneck Advent

God has a sense of humor!

He shows me the very day that I write of my desire to shift our Christmas season focus to the Christ child--without losing the fun and laughter of the season.

My very Southern Cowboy solemnly pulls out the evening's devotion at dinner and we read of The Fall that made the coming of Jesus necessary.

Serious stuff!

He reads from Genesis 3--"Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were nekkid...


Suppressed smirk from the Montana girl with the "pure" dialect.

I look up, and across the table my Songbird is wearing the same expression I know I must be wearing.  Our eyes meet.

Uh-oh.

...."But the LORD God called to the man, 'Where are you?'  He answered, 'I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was nekkid;..."

giggle.  


Now Happy Girl is noticing....


"so I hid.'  And God said, 'Who told you that you were nekkid?"

Baaaaahhhhh!  We lose it.  Gales of laughter.  Very perplexed Cowboy.


Cowboy: "What is so funny?!"

Happy Girl: "WHO TOLD Y'ALL YA WERE NEKKID???"


Whoops of laughter.


I can't resist: "This here woman ya give me--she done give me some fruit and I et it."

Now we are ALL doubled over, tears streaming from the laughter.

As we are discussing writing our own book, "Advent Devotions for Rednecks," I have to wonder if this family is capable of solemnity....

We did recover enough to get back to the reading and this beautiful reminder:

 God still whispers, "Where are you?" because His love longs for us.

Maybe laughter is one of the ways He woos us.

#461-#474

461. Wasabi almonds.

462. Soup weather!

463. Cocoa date with my Cowboy.

464.  Secret Santa underwear parties for the girls.  Too silly.

465. Stockings on the fireplace.

466.  Beautiful quilt of the Three Kings made by my talented mother. (Come to think of it, the stockings are, too!)

467. Stories of how God wooed a Muslim girl into His kingdom.

468. Advent devotions before bed.  Time to enjoy God and one another.

469. Pregnancy!  (No, not me but for two special young women who were waiting.)

470. Psalm 34:8 Taste and see that the Lord is good.  Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him.

471. Curious city boy coming to get his hands dirty doing farm work.

472. A heart that has been softened enough by God that it can grieve with the sorrow that leads to repentance.

473.  Intercessory prayer that pulls my focus from myself and toward God and others.

474. Plants still growing in my first garden!

A Real Love Story (Part II)

We prayed.

He answered.

I don't know how many gathered together to pray for the life of an unborn child, but God brought us a miracle.  I could just sense that He was working, and He did.

This baby will live.

The young woman for whom I pleaded is now a mother-to-be.  She showed her friend the picture of the sonogram she is carrying around with her. To remind her of whom she holds.

What are the odds?

Practically zero, according to my friend Irene who works at a pregnancy center.  Statistically speaking any woman who has had one abortion will almost always abort again in the event of another unplanned pregnancy.

It takes a miracle.

Ann Voskamp noticed in Scripture that thanksgiving always precedes a miracle.  We gave thanks, and we got our miracle.

Now I am praying for another.

But first: Thanksgiving.  Overwhelming gratitude for such a clear answer to corporate prayer.   Thanksgiving that I pray to a God who is not just Able, He is Good.


Thankful for a God who is not done writing this story.  I don't presume to know His ways.  I do know that He can work something beautiful out of any situation.  And I am so grateful.

Still, I am praying.  Praying that this young mother would love enough to allow another woman to be "Mommy" to her child.

I am praying that as she stretches herself to place the needs of her child above her own need for love, that she would find the love she has been craving.

Not from a man.

Not from a child.

But from a God who loved her enough that He gave everything so that she could have the best.

Perhaps in this season of Advent, she will be brought a picture of another young mother who had a VERY unplanned pregnancy.  Unplanned to her.

Not to Him.

And the Babe that He gave up, came so that she could have perfect love.

Intentional Tradition

What can I say? I love traditions.  (I should have been Jewish.)  I adore meaningful ceremonies and deliberate, annual remembrances.

The Christmas season is especially ripe for tradition.

For example, growing up in the Reed home, we pulled out Harry Belefonte's Christmas album immediately after Thanksgiving.

Christmas Eve dinner was oyster stew for the family (YUCK!) and Campbell's Chunky Sirloin Burger for the picky redhead (that would be me).

 "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown." The Word from Linus every year....

One present could be opened on Christmas Eve.  Only one.

Almond crescent cookies dusted with powdered sugar.

Homemade bon bons.

Fudge by Mary (I had the "fudge touch").

We usually had an orange in our stocking.  (Whose idea was THAT?!)

Marriage was an eye-opener for this North-meets-South couple when our Christmas traditions butted heads.

I mean, really, how could anyone find the Charlie Daniels Band superior to Harry Belefonte?  Every time Mike played "Christmastime Down South" I envisioned goats in the front yard and a washing machine on the front porch.  (Time for our Christmas moonshine, Gertie!)

Forgive me, I hadn't yet lived in the South....


Needless to say, Christmas really tested our marital negotiation skills.

Over the course of our 19 years together, we've come up with our own set of "traditions."

Some were continuations of favorite childhood traditions:

A birthday cake for Jesus.

One present on Christmas Eve--now it's pajamas

Christmas Eve reading from Luke Chapter 2.

Some traditions were retired 

(oyster stew and oranges)

Some just sort of evolved. 

All the cousins sleeping over on Thanksgiving night.  Then they all decorate the our house for Christmas the next day. (Free labor!)

Everyone gets socks and underwear as a gift--(Whose idea was THAT?!.... Oh, I think I get it now, Mother!)

"Elf" and eggnog.  It's not really Christmas until you have watched "Elf."

My crazy husband getting up just before dawn, climbing up on the roof and trying (rather unsuccessfully) to create the effect of the "prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof."

Ahhh, tradition.

However, it has occurred to me this season that most of our traditions are, in fact, accidental.

Don't get me wrong: each accidental tradition became an annual event because of a humorous or sentimental moment that made it special.

Special, but not so Biblical, I'm noticing.

This fact is particularly troubling because of the age of my children.  With two in high school--one about to graduate-- I am painfully aware that my days of creating meaningful traditions are dwindling.

I still want Christmas to be a time of laughter, love and enjoyment--laughter is a big part of what being an Odell is all about!

However, in our laughter I don't want to lose sight of the wonder.  I want some intentional traditions that focus us on the incomprehensible marvel that God became flesh and dwelt among us.

For this year, and as many years as I have left, I want to focus on doing what I can to have Christmas be a time of awe, a time of reflection, a time of considering the love the Father has for me.

If I am intentional, that means choosing deliberately.  This year we are reading through Ann Voskamp's Jesse Tree Devotion to bring our minds daily to the wonder of Christ's coming.

It also means intentionally choosing to say no to some things that are good, but would create rush or stress.  We can't go to every party, and we can't buy every present.

And that's okay.

 "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." Luke 2:19