christmas blues. or pink.

(disclaimer: it's another long one. sorry.)

I say Christmas blues because it never fails. Thanksgiving and Christmas inevitably make me miss my family that has passed. And I say pink because I'm thankful for the pink rose colored glasses that God gave me soon after my dad died.

For the life of my blogging, for as long as I shall blog, you'll probably get to read about my dad. And I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rehashing the same emotions over and over, but I've come to learn that the process of grief isn't just in the passing weeks after we lose someone. Sometimes it takes a lifetime.

I have three people that I plan on holding onto as tight as God will let me, as soon as I enter heaven. One is my grandmother. My mom's mom. I was only six when she died. But I still can't talk about her without crying. Isn't that weird? Maybe. But I remember specific things about her. I remember how her arms felt - sort of flabby, actually. But her skin was like velvet. And I remember her hands. I would hold her hand and press on the veins on the top of her hands - I loved how they felt. Her hands were soft, too. I remember her hugs - she pulled me in tight and squeezed good. Not one of those pat-you-on-the-back kind of hugs. And most importantly, I remember how she smelled. And somehow I managed to get her after bath powder that she used - it had this big puff thing and I kept it safely in a drawer. Every now and then I would open the box and lift the puff thing just to smell the powder. To smell her. She was a heavenly woman.

And I miss my grandad (my mom's dad). Oh my goodness how I miss him. It wasn't until my grandmother passed, his wife, that his edges softened. He was a Col. in the army and was rigged and stern from his career. But after grandmom died, he didn't have a choice - well I suppose he did - but he chose to let us hug him and love him. Somewhere in the midst of college exams, boy troubles, job interviews and buying my first house, I realized that my grandad was morphing more into a dad and a friend and less into this grandfatherly figure who I used to place in a glass box and only get out for special occassions. I found myself calling for advice - or calling just because I needed to hear his voice. And when he found out that he had cancer, I sat in the parking lot of a Chili's restaurant and cried my heart until I couldn't catch my breath. Surely at 92, one's time must be running out. But it still didn't seem fair. He was the healthiest man I knew. But alas, his time was near. And even despite his fear and pain, he would call me and ask me if I was ok when a boyfriend broke up with me. And he would tell me that I would get through it. And he would drive over to visit with me. He was a friend of all seasons. I admired that about him. I admired his heart. My most favorite memory is with he and my mom. We sat at our kitchen table one Christmas and played a game of scrabble. To this day, I crave that game of scrabble. I don't think the three of us have laughed so hard, together, ever. Grandad's face was a deep shade of pink and he kept stomping his feet as he laughed and gasped to grab some air to at least breathe a second in between giggles. It was the best.
And when I would visit him at his house, I felt like I was home. He lived in a condo. But wherever he was, that's where home was. To be in his presence was to feel like I was home. I think he would be every woman's romeo. That sounds dorky, I'm sure. But he was chivalry at its best. To greet me when I arrived, he would often times walk across his living room with his arms open wide and say, "hello Ashley!" in his loud booming voice. Then he would hug me and kiss me right there on the soft part where you can feel your pulse just above your collar bone. I used to feel like the most beautiful woman in his presence. I just knew, without fail, that I was completely loved by Carl Whitney. He was such a delight. A cheerful giver. A cheerful receiver. A neat freak. Never a hair out of place. Never a shirt unpressed. Never a piece of paper unfiled. A contagious laugh. The best joke teller. The reason I believe I got down and dirty and dug deep and regained my relationship with Christ....well, part of the reason.

The other reason is and was my dad. If you knew my dad, then you probably have your own idea of who he was. And that's either really good or really bad. ;) But even if you did know him, there was a lot he didn't let on. He really struggled. He was abused as a kid and his mom was abused by his dad. And my dad was the oldest boy in the family. A family of 5 kids. And so all of the dysfunction really worked on my dad. Give a man 50 years to let all of that kind of resentment settle in, nest and work its way around and you've got yourself a royal mess. When God says that sin can multiply, he's not kidding. But don't mistake yourself by thinking that your own sin will only affect yourself. It was the sins of his parents that started the unwinding of his heart. As parents we play such a huge role in nurturing the hearts of our babies. But as individuals, we also have a choice. And while the choices were laid out before my dad, it was his choice to deny God for most of his life. I can only imagine the vantage point that God had, all the while, of the race for the finish. Victory was, inevitably, the Lord's but getting there was brutal. I'll not exploit my family by going into the detailed accounts of dad's life but I will say this: times were hard at our house. But they were good, too. And as soon as my dad died, I had a conversation with my brother. And through his sweet tears he told me that all he could think of were memories of my dad that he loved. I wanted to shout a hallelujah praise when he said that. But I held back for fear that I'd ruin his moment. But that was it. Death had lost its sting. Screw you lord of evil, deceiver of our world. When Jesus saves, your power is like the snake that was stepped on. Dead. But what was alive, finally, was life. I know that my brother had tried so hard to forgive my dad for the hurt he had inflicted but it was hard. It was harder for Bryan because he had babies. And he couldn't understand why his own dad was absent in their lives. But finally, those sweet rose colored glasses covered his eyes from the old and the pain was washing away. I don't make excuses for my dad's decisions but I also don't resent him either. It's remarkable, really. And I don't say that to pat myself on the back or to fluff up my pride. I say that because I stand in awe of the grace of the cross in reflection of the forgiveness I was able to receive and give.

When I first met Todd and told him about my dad, all he could see was the pain that I held onto. The resentment I had towards my dad. The entitlement I held onto - my dad owed me something. He owed me every hug he denied me, every night I wanted him to be sober, every Christmas that he was grumpy, every moment that I felt like he had offended me - he owed me an apology. Todd didn't seem to flinch when I told him all of the "stories" that came from living with an alcoholic. Instead he offered me one thing. Well two. The first was for me to call him. Ooooh no. I wasn't ready for that. But the second thing he said was, "have you trie forgiving him?" Isn't that so simple? Forgiveness. What a frickin novel idea. And as much as I loved Jesus and had just been worked in the recent months during my grandfather's final days, I was dumbfounded that he suggested I forgive my dad.

But why?

I was so selfish. Still am in a lot of ways. But really. (stay with me. i know this is long. but i'm getting there).

Jesus tells us that we are to forgive as many times as it takes, daily, hourly, in order to keep our hearts postured for Him and not for anyone else. And as long as I kept hating my dad, I was missing out on two things. Loving my dad and receiving the love of Christ. I was so busy hating my dad and replaying horrible events that I had forgotten who my dad was. And I was so busy thinking that I deserved an apology that I had put up a block between me and Jesus. Why on earth would God continue to rain down a parade of blessings on my life when I wasn't willing to even try to forgive the man that He had ordained to be my earthly father long before my dad was even born. Who was I to deny that kind of forgiveness?

And so I tried. It wasn't easy. But it happened quicker than I imagine. In less than a year, i found myself loving my dad. I found myself replaying old memories that I loved about my dad. And I started consciously telling Satan to hit the road any time an old memory would creap in. To this day I will only reccount old bad memories if only it allows me to witness to another. I refuse to open up that can of pity and sit in it. It denies God of the glorious redemption he offered my dad - it denies God the beautiful life he created through destruction.

And so when Thanksgiving and Christmas come creeping in, I miss my dad. I'm getting a lump in my throat just writing this. I miss rubbing noses with him. Lately Todd has rubbed noses with me and I say, "nope. it doesn't feel like his nose." God I miss him. I miss the thickness of his hands and his short stubby fingers and the callouses on his palms. I miss his hairy legs (please know that this isn't meant to sound creepy and weird -i think it's just things that, as as kid, you know about your parents). I miss his blue eyes. I miss his laugh. I miss his phone voice. I'd know his 'hello' anywhere. Which leads me to say, I miss his voice. I just wish I could hear his voice. I miss his hugs and his smile. I miss watching him rub his beard down and then massage his moustache with his pointer finger. I miss watching him mow the grass. I miss so much about my dad and I ache for the day when we'll be reunited wholey. Holy. I sometimes ask God this, "God, if you have time, would you mind finding my dad today and just hugging him for me? will you please tell him that I can't wait to see him. Kiss him for me and rub noses with him. Please tell him I love him."

I miss waking up Christmas morning, running downstairs to get my brother's and my stockings, running back upstairs to open the presents with my brother in his bed - and then running to my parents' bedroom to jump on them.

Christmas really is precious. Jesus really was born. The Savior of the world really was born to a precious young Mary as her sweet Joseph helped her labor and deliver sweet baby Jesus. And Jesus really did come to save. And he really does still live. He is alive. He's not just a tale or a legend. He is King. The one and only true God.

And somewhere in the time before I was born and the early 1900s, God created a beautiful thing. He made a beautiful woman, Dorcas Sheldon, amidst twelve children. And he made a determined man, Carl Whitney, in a small town outside of Boston. And from them he created a precious girl, Kay Ellen. Who fell in love with an insanely talented and intelligent Bill Fagundus. And from them, he created me. And in my heart he set eternity.

And if I can't be thankful for that well then heaven help me. And don't you know it was only heaven that did.

God, thank you for Christmas. Thank you for showing Mary and Joseph the means to persevere when they were terrified of the outcome of the birth of the Messiah. And thank you for choosing my heritage for me. Thank you for giving me a choice - to forgive. Thank you for showing me how to forgive - for giving us Jesus.

I celebrate You. You are Holy.

the poorest of poor

In a book I'm reading right now it says this: "I learned a powerful lesson: We can admire and worship Jesus without doing what he did. We can applaud what he preached and stood for without caring about the same things. We can adore his cross without taking up ours. I had come to see that the great tragedy in the church is not that rich Christians do not care about the poor but that rich Christians do not know the poor."

Do you read the Bible? If you do, you'll know that it is filled with direction for us to love the poor, the needy, the lonely, the widows... God never says, 'when people make you feel uncomfortable or hurt your feelings, walk away. they're not worth it.' Just the opposite. Jesus tells us that we should take in the lost and be the love that they need.

How often do you see a homeless person and just pass them by? Be honest. How often do you have three dollars in your wallet and think, 'they'll just spend it on booze anyway' and you pass them by but then you go to the store and buy a soda or a magazine or a hamburger. Which is more nourishing, booze or a soda? If you said soda, I say you're wrong. It's when we're feeding our desires and our flesh that we're living outside the will of God. And if you're annoyed with me right now, then good. God says that if you agree with everything I said then I'm just as good as the false profits.

It's time that we push each other. It's time that we're real and honest and we get out of our comfortable pretty Sunday clothes and start being the hands and feet and eyes and ears of the One who created us. The One who gave us salvation and entered inside of us a covenant, his spirit, so that we would die - WE WOULD DIE. Jesus didn't say that our old self would sort of stick around. No. He said that our old self would die...that we would be made new in Him. That just as much as he is in the father, so is He is in us. We are Jesus walking. When we accept Jesus as Lord, we aren't supposed to sit in front of our tv's and keep the secrets of eternity to ourselves.

When we see brother Will on the street, lonely, grumpy, angry, hating life, down and out, dirty...we are to extend love. So what if he spends his money on booze or cigarettes or worse. I don't know about you, but God loves me right where I am. And I've done some pretty disgusting things. Haven't you? Wasn't it us who hated our husband, wished we hadn't gotten married, smoked cigarettes, dabbled in drugs, ate obscene amounts of food just because we wanted to, lived with our significant other before marriage, were intimate before marriage, went out and drank ourselves drunk with friends and called it 'good fun', drove our friends around drunk and felt righteous because we were the 'good one'? Wasn't it us who did all of these stupid things that could have killed us or destroyed the very relationships we adored? And wasn't it our God who loved us and continued to call us to Him despite our hard hearts and hard heads?

So tell me, why then do we put ourselves above the person who is destitute on the streets, addicted to drugs? Why in the world do we think that we're an ounce better than them? Because our sin seems cleaner than theirs? Because our sin hasn't gotten out of control like theirs? Or because we're just so stinking comfy sitting at home that surely we're the blessed ones who have gotten it right and those people will just have to figure it out and work as hard as we have... Because after all, we earned all this stuff that we have? We went to college, got our degree, busted butt to get our job, climb the ladder, save our money...

How self righteous have we become? Didn't we read Job? Don't we know the character and heart of our God? Don't we know that as quickly as he can give life, he can take it away? Don't we know that when we choose to walk, he'll let us walk. Away or towards Him. He will LET us walk.

What a blessing to be financially stable. And what a blessing to have money stored up. But we're deceived if we think that the money we have stored up should stay stored and not shared. God doesn't want to force us to give him our money - he wants us to get it into our hearts that the money that's ours was never really ours but only his and it was he that gave it to us. So why then are we so scared to give it away? To give it back? Don't we want to be a blessing? Don't we want others to come to Christ?

Tell me something - if brother Will walked up to me and was drunk and said he needed money, what should I do? I think you listen to the Spirit's prompting. And if you don't know how to hear God's voice, ask him. Ask God, the one true God, to help you to have eyes for just Him and ears for just Him. He won't hold back. But brother Will, he'll stand there looking you in the eye and he'll wait. And you can deny this or you can chew on it - but he doesn't want your money so much as he wants life breathed back into the places of his heart where it's dessolate. He wants the breath of life - he wants Jesus. And so what if it costs you $3.00 or your entire fortune...if ten minutes of your time with Will costs you everything, then so be it. What if those ten minutes you took to tell him about the love of Christ were the final seeds that needed to be sewn so that Will would surrender?

I had a boss who reached out to me when I was hurting. He invited me to come and give to others. But I was grieving a lost relationship. I didn't understand how me giving to others could help ME. I wanted someone to give to ME. I didn't go. But his words stuck with me. It was years until I knew what he meant. It's Christ in us, the hope of glory. We aren't to keep it tucked away inside for just us to sit and feast upon. It's for us to share. And share big. Jesus didn't tell us to be afraid of the faith that we received. He said to share it - but to know that because of it we would lose everything. Our old self. Our old ways. Our old life.

Oh ya'll, let go. Let's let go of our old ways and cling to the new. Let's be rich in faith. Let's quit just saying 'Amen' at church and be the Amen in the world. Let's quit agreeing with Jesus' teaching and let's be Jesus walking. Let's quit being such wimps for the cross and start moving for the sake of the one who was nailed to it! Let's quit being afraid to talk about the suffering that our Jesus endured for us. Let's share it with the world. Let's quit avoiding eye contact with the cheater, the alcoholic, the drug addict, the homeless, the broken, the poor, the grieving...they need something. They need Jesus. It may not be the moment that you love them that they're healed, but let that not stop you from loving. In your eyes they're seeing a reflection of the Savior's.

And remember: Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it. (Hebrews 13:2)

Let's be bold this December. Let's step out of our comfort zones. Lock your doors still - yes. I don't deny that we live in a broken world. But let's quit being afraid to show the world the Spirit inside of us.

blog

i haven't really been in the blogging spirit lately. i was away for a week, at my mom's, while our house was under construction - or fixing. in any case, it required me to be away for the week while todd played boy scout and went without heat for a bit. thank goodness for space heaters. and then i returned and two days later we headed to richmond and charlottesville, va where his little sister got married. so it's been a bit of a whirlwind of a couple of weeks. and now we're home. aaah, home. home sweet lovely home with a comfy bed. oh i love our bed. so when i think of something to blog about, i'll blog some more. but for now, i wanted to grace you with a few pictures. loralai dressed up girly style for the wedding. pardon the one picture where her dress is tucked into her britches - it was the only way we could keep the dress out from under her very busy crawling knees. she was a trooper and did so well for the traveling. and she wore her little bonnet well. i can't wait to see the real (when i say real, i mean good, really good) pictures of her and the wedding that my sister-n-law will probably post soon. she's a photographer - a good one. it was cool to see her in action on saturday.

this is the sweetest picture of my two sweethearts.

loralai with her uncle jonathan and reaching for (no doubt the nostrils but her hand didn't make it there) her new uncle justin.

loralai practicing walking with her daddy.

this just makes me laugh. we hand to bundle her up for the outdoor super cold wedding. and i had to feed her gerber puffs the entire ceremony just to keep her from making this monkey squawking sound 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!'

swallowed whole

i've been doing some praying lately and i realized something. i ask a lot of God. last week i was asking him for healing for my niece. and i was also asking him to help Loralai's snot subside and for her cold to hit the road so that sleep will be restored. and i was asking him to continue to provide for our family, financially. and i was asking him what i could make for dinner - other than chicken or quesadillas (b/c time is of the essence and my creative cooking brain just is, apparently, not). and i was asking him to soften the hearts of a few people i love, so that they will please turn away from what the world says (ie: most often dr. phil and oprah) and turn to Him - for the first time and for some, just for good. and i was praying that the difficult circumstances that some of us are in would restore our love for God and i was asking him to help me to see the good in the times that seem, on the outside, to be hopeless or just discouraging.

and then, i sat down with that bible of mine and i prayed. i realized that i was asking a lot of God. and i realize that simply because God is God, he gets to do as he pleases. and so, here i went again, asking God to please help me to rest in knowing that the decisions he makes - the prayers that seem unanswered - are at his mercy and within his perfect will. help me to know that when i don't get everything i want - that THAT is perfectly perfect.

and as i was praying - and asking - and seeking - God gave me the book of jonah. and oddly enough, do you know i don't even think i've read it. i just know about jonah and what he went through. and maybe i've read bits and pieces here and there but i never sat down and read it and chewed on it for a while. but this is what i read:

chapter 2 (NIV)
From inside the fish Jonah prayed to the Lord his God. He said:

"In my distress I called to the Lord,
and he answered me.
From the depths of the grave I
called for help,
and you listened to my cry.
You hurled me into the deep,
into the very heart of the seas,
and the currents swirled about me;
all your waves and breakers
swept over me.
I said, 'I have been banished
from your sight;
yet I will look again
toward your holy temple.'
The engulfing waters threatened me,
the deep surrounded me;
seaweed was wrapped around my
head.
To the roots of the mountains I sank
down;
the earth beneath barred me in
forever.
But you brought my life up from the
pit,
O Lord my God.

"when my life was ebbing away,
I remembered you, Lord,
and my prayer rose to you,
to your holy temple.

"Those who cling to worthless idols
forfeit the grace that could be theirs.
But I, with a song of thanksgiving,
will sacrifice to you.
What I have vowed I will make good.
Salvation comes from the Lord."

And the Lord commanded the fish,
and it vomited Jonah onto dry land.

....
After I read that, I had a definite sigh of relief moment. It reminded me of chapter 3 of Lamentations where God tells us that despite all of our shortcomings - his mercy is new every day. I was pretty overwhelmed by Jonah, at first. God doesn't imply that the belly of the whale/fish story is all a metaphor - he doesn't let up like Jesus does in giving explanation for his stories. This story is told as what really occurred. And so I thought about how Jonah was pleading with God saying - God, you threw me into the ocean and let the waves kick my butt. i thought i was going to die and so despite my earlier denial of you and running from your asking me to confront people on your behalf, i bit my pride and called out to you to please forgive me and have mercy on me. i asked you, when i thought i was going to die, if you would please spare me so that i might be able to hold true to the promises i had made to you. and i realized that you would do anything just to get my attention - like toss my sorry toosh into the ocean where a giant fish would nearly eat me.

Re-read the passage again. And if you don't believe the fish to be true - read it as this: God will use ANYTHING to bring us to him. He will allow us to return to the same sin over and over again if it is the only way that we will be knocked down, continually, so that our posture is humbled and we are desperate for his intervention - for his mercy, love and grace. But God says, through Jonah, that if we will quit with the mess - quit thinking Dr. Phil and Oprah are the wisest of wise, if we'll quit turning to food for comfort, to alcohol for confidence, to working out so that our bodies are beautifully carved rather than healthy, to books that tell us that cheating is ok because our spouses got boring or uninteresting, to the comfortable answer that says that divorce is appropriate because our spouse just didn't have the same visions as us in life - God says that if we will quit making excuses for where we fall short, and simply loose ourselves of the baggage that we're holding onto that's making our ears def to him, our hearts hard to him and our eyes blind to him - that then, he will put us back on solid ground. On dry ground that is easier to walk upon.

He'll bring us up out of the belly of that whale. But unless we choose to let go of the junk we like sitting in, God will let us sit there for as long as it takes. Because as much as it is that we think that God loves us - he wants us to love him back. He doesn't want to be the only one pouring out the love - he wants a relationship.

He wants to hear about all my insane thoughts, my crazy prayers about dinner and sucking snot out of my baby's nose - because really, when the chips are up or down - the only one who can truly have the glory for my life, and over my life, is the one who created it.

So I'm going to start thinking about this Jonah a little more. And I'm thankful that God led me to one of the shortest books in the bible to read - on a night when my attention span was puny - so that I might be let in on one of the biggest secrets he shared: mercy. grace. love.

It's all ours, if we'll just resign to letting go and letting God be God. Isn't it sweet, ya'll?