Nice, not Naughty

This Christmas season, I've been pondering about how difficult it is to be nice.  Not-so-nice is easy, even our natural style.  Therein lies the rub.  I want to be good, but continually fail.  Santa might flunk me.

I adore Christmas.  Time with family is precious and sweet.  The lights and decor are spectacular.  The generosity and thoughtfulness of gift-giving is genuinely heart-warming.  The trimmings are lovely, but they're ... trimmings, not the main affair.   At the end of the day, I still have to work through the better person I want to be, may even be becoming (slowly) but am not yet.  Life provides a constant test of character, when things don't always get better; in fact, they often seem to deteriorate into mind-numbing gel.  The self so easily becomes a prison, even when I determine to be selfless.

So the real deal, the golden nugget of Christmas, gets down to Jesus, the Savior who came to the stable.  His remarkable words are my beacon:

"Then the righteous will shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father." - Jesus (Mt 13:43a)

Herein lies my Christmas hope.  Jesus came to bring me- and all takers- the ultimate gift: His own righteousness, His own good nature, His own amazing soul.  He paid a heavy price to provide this gift, which makes it an even greater treasure.  Someday, when I abandon this rapidly challenged tent of a body, I will indeed be much more than nice.  Just as the sun's compulsion is to literally explode with light, my very nature will be goodness and love that burst out effortlessly.  The endless exhaustion of doing battle with that narcissistic old nature will be done forever.  What an incomprehensible and glorious future!  Thank You, Jesus!

Good

I have a theory. It's based on personal observation. It may be totally limited or erroneous, but here it is:

Children of abuse question themselves.
Children of loss question God.

Children of abuse may assume God is also abusive-- that He is unpleasable, critical, unkind, frightening, unloving, not compassionate. They may know the facts about the Lord, Who says He is love, and may be certain they believe it. However, they function as children of an abusive Father, always expecting to be slammed. Deep down, they wonder why the Lord considered it okay to place such an abusive person in their life. They debate if it was somehow their fault, because they balk at labeling the abusive person for what they are or were. They are confused about what is obvious to others about acceptable behavior, because their boundaries have been bludgeoned for so long.

Children of loss may assume that God does not know what He's doing or just does a bad job. They cannot fathom why it could ever be right to lose that significant person when the timing is generally considered too soon. They are angry at that person for abandoning them and angry that God allowed it, and they take issue with His choices. Their lives may play out as a continuing study in perceived unfairness. God seems manipulative, petty, and uncaring. They will never be one of His favorites, or He would not have permitted the loss to happen in the first place.

Both categories may or may not be aware of the conclusions they've come to, or how they got there. Both ultimately come to the same place. They question whether God is truly Good.

I understand these perspectives.  I am sympathetic.  I was the child of the first category.  I cannot offer a simple cure.  I can only say that the goodness of God has become my anchor, in part because it in stark contrast to the self-recrimination and fear that abuse caused in my life.  The Lord rescued me.  He redeemed my failures.  He became my ultimate Father.  Without that to cling to, my life would be in shambles.  He said He is good.  I have tasted and I have seen. I believe.

Perhaps that is the cure.  Start your stand there.  Ask Him to show you.  Believe.  He is Good.

sycamore christmas

Sycamore Christmas

Christmas is stealing into the house

Slipping satin-toed ‘round frosty panes

Sliding on to the murmuring bayberry hearth

There entreating the embers to flames

And the belly-bowed balls of scarlet and plum

Are chanting from tinsel-downe beds

Joined by whispering angels and drummers and deer

And apple-cheeked children on sleds:

Let it come! Let it come!

Let the holly be hung!

Let the garland appear on the stairs!

Let the table be spread—

Dressed in green, blue, and red—

And let candles cast gold on the chairs.

Let the tree reach on high—

Take a star from the sky

For its crown, and let ribbons be tied

To cascade from its arms

Decked in bells, bows, and charms,

And let fancy and lace trim each side.

Then let carols be sweet—

Sung at home, in the street,

‘Round the fire—for it’s Heaven we savor

As children; and then, let us kneel once again

Full of love for Jesus, our Savior.

-JoanneA

1991

(edit-2012)

Christmas - when it's tough

For those in difficult situations this Christmas— facing trials of health, finance, and heartbreak: 

“There are prayers that break the backs of words: they are too heavy for any human language to carry.”
-Spurgeon

Praying you will know— when words and prayers stumble— the Spirit is praying for you, Jesus is praying for you. May The Lord’s love be the light of your Christmas, the fire at which your heart is warmed and made strong. 

“Be strong and of good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”
(Deuteronomy 31:5-7)