The world waits...

Outside in a bucket of water, our Christmas tree waits. Swaddled in plastic netting, the green branches will probably need awhile to open out once we unwrap it.

In many windows, already the coloured lights twinkle and wink, tinsel shines and baubles bob. Still we wait.

Anticipation rises as we look forward to welcoming Mhairi home for Christmas. She flies in through Iceland on Wednesday. A new route, booked at the last minute: we’re all excited to have her here for the holidays.

Joy to the world. The Lord has come...is coming again. He is here, but he will be here in glory one day. He will reign. Peace will prevail.

Still the world waits. Waiting is hard. 

Joy. It isn’t unalloyed happiness but rather a deep well of hope, sure and certain hope, that however the world looks today, however my circumstances look and however much I am grieving or lonely, I know that this is not all there is. 

Soon we will unswaddle the Christmas tree and decorate it, hearts full of joy and sorrow in equal measure, but the joy is everlasting, the sorrow is here for a night.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. He is faithful.

Joy in the Daily

Continuing on the theme of ‘mistakes’, we have just been blessed by one. The printer who produces the church magazine forgot that we can only afford black-and-white interiors, and gave us colour instead. What a great Christmas present! Contact Mag has never looked so vibrant.

I was helping sort Christmas cards for local distribution this morning. It’s a serious undertaking to organise this annual service, but given the camaraderie and banter in the ‘sorting office’ this morning, I think there is as much Christmas cheer in the work as there is in the envelopes.

At a time of turmoil in the world, it is rewarding to see joy and harmony in the everyday tasks we each do. Yes, we long for peace on earth and goodwill towards men, and we contribute to that moment by moment, in the little things we do each day. 

 

The light is already in the world, through Jesus living in our hearts.

Happy Advent.

Pure Gold

So I picked up a long-neglected cross-stitch and resumed where I’d left off a few weeks ago. As I worked, I realised that I’d faithfully stitched a golden trumpet, thinking I was using two shades of gold when, in fact, turns out I used the same shade twice. Hmm.

There are a few other wee anomalies so far, as there always are despite my best efforts to count carefully. 

‘It’s the mistakes that make it special,’ Don remarked, saving the day. 

Then I thought about the patterns of our lives. They don’t always – maybe ever – work out as we thought they would. But it’s as we offer the goofs and glitches and yes, even the heartaches, to the Creator God that he is revealed through those thin places where we messed up, or where life dealt us a blow, slightly altering the shades or shapes and giving us a depth of truth and understanding, love and compassion we would otherwise have never attained.

God has a plan, a plan for good, but if/when it goes awry through something in this fallen world, he reworks it to be uniquely beautiful.  Nothing can separate us from the love of our Saviour. Nothing.

And so that trumpet now is pure gold. Better than planned.

Maranatha!

An unexpected gift arrived this morning in the post. Unexpected, unnecessary (because we love the senders even without the gift...) but the spot-on matching of its contents with our preferences made me smile. These dear friends know our weakness – dark Belgian (or Swiss, or ...) chocolate. Thank you, Ivan and Ksenia!!

At this time of year we remember an unexpected gift that arrived one night in a manger. I say unexpected, but actually the Jewish people had long expected a Saviour but were looking in a different place – a palace – and were expecting a more conventional King. 

Jesus is God’s gift to us, born in a manger 2,000 years ago, and born in our hearts often in unexpected ways, at unexpected times. 

His coming, though, is absolutely necessary for peace to reign on earth, in you and me, and goodwill to inspire women and men. At this time of turmoil in the world and encroaching darkness, when many of us lead lives of stress and anxiety, the cry goes up again. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus, Prince of Peace.

Jesus in a Manger

White. It’s a white world outside my windows this morning, a white world through which my neighbour and I took our usual walk. Frost made brittle the twigs and branches and revealed many a previously invisible web. Even now, hours later, it remains a white world out there.

Birds struggle in this weather, struggle to get the nourishment they need just to keep alive one more day. They need help. Nuts in feeders; fat balls on trees; bread crumbs on the ground. White is sterile, clean and pure, but unforgiving. 

Here in Scotland, white is cold, but on the Sahara where Mhairi was recently, white was hot. The white sands of desert as far as the horizon and beyond offered no hospitality to any living creatures. 

Those who have found themselves sentenced to life in a refugee camp find hospitality only in the open-handed gifts of others. Not nuts in feeders but couscous in UNHCR packets. 

God is often portrayed as clean and pure – white – but his love comes in technicolour brush strokes sweeping through our lives. Not nuts in feeders, couscous in packets, but Jesus in a manger.

Shine, Jesus!

Texting a weather report to California requires care. If I just write that it is -5, it sounds a whole lot colder than it actually is. I need to add that little letter ‘C’, or -5 is understood as -22(F). 

It’s easy to get sloppy. To omit the odd word or phrase, to fail to recognise that the hearer/reader might express truths in a different way, a way which exaggerates or twists reality.

It’s easy to get sloppy with our behaviour, too. To forget that others are reading our every word and action, scanning us to see if we are true to Who we say we believe in. 

Christmas is yet another opportunity to let the transparent hope found in the manger and on the cross shine through our actions and attitudes. With our backs to the crass commercialism we can readily sigh with wonder as we marvel at the gift of God.

The light of the world is in the world. Shine, Jesus, shine!