Valentines, chocolates, red roses in a lovely vase—all these things say “I love you” on Valentine’s Day. But there’s more to love, isn’t there? I guess I’ve been tuned in to the variety of ways love is expressed since the years when I was single and didn’t have a special valentine. How is love expressed in the world? Let me count the ways.
A little two-year-old stops playing with her tea set and races to the door when the doorbell rings because she knows it might be her mom coming to get her. That’s love.
The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you (Mark 10:51-52).” That’s love.
A badly injured dog struggles to walk across the room at the veterinary clinic where she is fighting for her life to lay her head on the shoulder of her worried owner. That’s love.
Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk (John 5:8).” That’s love.
Two women who normally attend an assisted living Bible study are conspicuously absent. The leader learns one of the women isn’t feeling well and the other wants to sit with her. That’s love.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep (John 10:11).” That’s love.
A brand new mom gazes amazed into the eyes of her newborn son during the “getting to know you” stage of their lifelong relationship. That’s love.
“I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners (Mark 2:17).” That’s love.
A homeless man divides a roll he was given with hands wearing holey mittens and hands half to his homeless friend next to him. That’s love.
For God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him (John 3:17). That’s love.
A woman with a houseful of kids to feed takes the time to make some soup for the elderly neighbor next door who is ailing. That’s love.
Jesus said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace (Luke 7:50).” That’s love.
A husband visits his wife in a care facility every day even though she no longer remembers him or their 60-year marriage. That’s love.
Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” “No one, sir,” she said. “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin (John 8:10-11).” That’s love.
A woman who recently lost her husband comes home to find that her family has beautifully decorated her home and yard for the Christmas season. That’s love.
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).” That’s love.
A weary mom volunteers for extra carpool duty because she knows her friend is going through a hard time. That’s love.
In 1 John 4:19 we read, We love because he first loved us. That’s the kind of love we can see in our world when we look for it—the kind of love worth celebrating on Valentine’s Day and every day.
Who Comes to Book Signings?
Unless you are John Grisham or on trial for murdering your spouse with a dull spoon, the answer to the title question is “not many people at all.” Only a few times in my twenty plus years as an author have I had actual lines forming to obtain my signature, and then only when I’ve had a chance to speak first. But regardless, I packed up my low expectations and gratefully accepted an invitation to have a signing at the Barnes & Noble in Pueblo, CO, recently.
Was it a wasted afternoon? Not at all. How encouraging it was to walk in and see two of my titles, Take My Hand Again and The Hope of Glory, all piled up and waiting on a cloth-covered table by the door. Friendly employees offered a comfortable chair and any assistance I needed. Then I sat expectantly.
I did think most visitors to my table would be human, but was delighted when the first one to show any interest at all was a young golden doodle. She didn’t want to read the books, but didn’t chew on any either, so that was good. I loved seeing her pink bows.
At one point in the afternoon I thought I should check to see if someone had posted a sign on the front of the table reading, “Leave your best advice here.” First a gentleman stopped to peruse my books, then looked at me and asked, “Are you a Christian lady?” “Yes, I am,” I replied. “Well, do you know what EGO stands for?” he asked. “Edging God Out. We all have the power of the Holy Spirit in us but we don’t always tap into it because of our egos.” I agreed with him and he wandered off.
Next I was approached by a woman who also took the time to look at both books before offering, “Life’s a journey. We shouldn’t focus too much on the past or we’ll miss the present and the future.” Good advice, that.
The two visitors I enjoyed the most, however, were two older ladies who wandered by looking for a place to sit while their families shopped. I was happy to stand for a while, and they were happy to sit and visit.
The first woman, Faith, had owned an independent bookstore in Pueblo for years before retiring in her eighties. She cheerfully predicted a swing back to a preference for hard cover books, and her parting advice was that whatever our political persuasions, we should all write Congress hand-written letters—“the only ones that make a difference!”
And then there was the guest that made the whole afternoon worthwhile. Sadie accepted my offer of the chair as soon as she entered the store with her husband, daughter and son-in-law. “I don’t know why,” she said, “but when you turn 90 things just start going to pot. My feet hurt and I can’t shop like I used to.” Over the 30 minutes or so she kept me company, we shared details of our lives. She told me she was born in the US but raised in Mexico, returning to Pueblo in the Seventies. She and her husband of 72 years have 10 children, 30 grandchildren, and wait for it, 94 great and great-great grandchildren! I sheepishly told her that my first great grandchild was due any day.
Sharing that she couldn’t read my books due to macular degeneration, Sadie said, “I accept whatever the good Lord sends, but sometimes it makes me sad.” It made me sad, too.
While Sadie was sitting in my author chair, a young woman and her family entered the store. “Grandma!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” Sadie rose to give hugs punctuated with kisses on both cheeks to the girl, her husband, and her son. They went off to shop. Sadie sat down, turned to me and said, “I know that’s one of my granddaughters, but I can’t remember her name.” Understandable. When Sadie’s daughter came to reclaim her, she cleared up the confusion. I got a Sadie hug, we said our goodbyes, and they left.
I did sell two books to other shoppers that afternoon, but driving home I realized that the Lord hadn’t sent me there to sell books, just to remember why I wrote books for the elderly and those who care for them in the first place. It was an afternoon well spent…and a success in that not a single person asked me if I knew where the bathroom was.
All Er Nuthin’
Well, I’m all in with my husband and our thirty-year marriage. No question there. But Will’s question seems to apply to the rest of my life. I’ve discovered in my 71 years that either I’m disciplined in my eating, my exercise, my work and my spiritual life, or I’m not disciplined in any area at all. With me it’s all er nuthin’.
It’s the New Year. I don’t do resolutions, but I do have goals. Resolutions seem too daunting; goals seem more manageable because they can be broken down into bite-sized bits. And since we’ve mentioned bite-sized, let’s go ahead and discuss the bane of most women over 40—the diet! I was such a skinny little girl I was always being dragged to the doctor to make sure I wasn’t anemic, sick, or disappearing. That all changed when I turned 40, my first time to go to Weight Watchers, and became a very distant memory after 50. All I want to know is, how old do you have to be before you get to be a wizened old lady?
Anyone remember the grapefruit diet in the ‘80s? How about the cabbage soup diet? Evidently women today are just as gullible as we were back then, because there is no shortage of fad diets, “magic” weight loss pills, and eating plans on the market. Each time one disappoints, I hear my mom saying, “Moderation in all things.” (That works for me as long as I’m less than moderate with carbs.) No matter what the covers of magazines promise, the only solution is to eat less and move more. Find an eating plan that works for you and stick to it. Don’t be tempted to try whatever works for others! (Studies show Weight Watchers is still the safest, healthiest, most effective plan overall.)
So that’s handled. How about the “move more” advice? The key is to find something you really enjoy—and DO it! I can’t imagine how ginormous I would be if I stopped exercising, but I’ve done many different things over the years. I jogged three miles every morning until I decided I’d rather finish life with my own knees, so I started walking instead and still love to walk. For many years I also went to Curves, a fitness circuit with resistance training. Then I developed a heel problem and was surprised to learn how much I loved substituting swimming laps for anything load bearing.
And then there’s work. I haven’t had a dedicated writing schedule since my last book came out almost three years ago—and we moved at the same time. But now I have, wait for it, actual assignments! I know what to do, I just have to do it. I have to set mini-deadlines for myself that I hold so seriously that I tell myself that if I miss a deadline a vicious bear will come through my office window and eat me. Or my cat. Either way, I can’t miss a deadline. All er nuthin’.
And finally, spiritual discipline. I won’t be able to stick to any of the above if I ever abandon my morning quiet time with the Lord. That’s the one thing that has held steady through all the wishy-washiness of the last few years. (See the blog “Molly the Quiet Time Cat” on my website from years ago. Even she knew I needed this!)
This blog post is a pep talk to myself for 2019. But what about you? “With me it’s all er nuthin’. Is it all er nuthin’ with you?”
What Happened?
It looks like my website randomly decided to republish a post from last June. Please disregard–or enjoy again! Hopefully this won’t keep happening. I’m looking into it and appreciate any clues any of you may have! God bless your day!
Keep the Joy
The post-holiday blues always seem to get me the day after Christmas. Obviously this isn’t a new problem, because this year I decided to search for some quick cures for these temporary blues on my computer—and what popped up was a newspaper column I wrote twenty years ago! What was my own advice to myself? Count your blessings. So I did, and I felt better immediately.
Both of the churches we regularly attend (long story) focused on the gift of joy this Christmas season, with the JOY candle shining brightly in their advent wreathes. In my son Tim’s church, the whole advent theme was Time for Joy, and they even had a red tractor in the entryway of the church to represent the fact that abiding joy in Christ can be cultivated through all of life’s seasons.
That’s another great cure for the post-holiday blues, remembering that joy isn’t only a gift at Christmas time, but can be ours all year long when we know where to search for it.
Chuck Swindoll knows. He had this to say about post-holiday blues in his book Come Before Winter: “When the wrappings and ribbons are in the trash, the manger scene is back in the attic, the friends and family have said good-bye, and the house feels empty and so do you—there is One who waits to fill your heart and renew your hope.”
The same One will restore your joy, and those who may have had much more than temporary blues throughout this Christmas season could need restoration. Even if we are in a good place emotionally, physically, and spiritually when the holiday season rolls around, we can still find it challenging. The busier schedule, the memories of people we have lost, the nostalgia, the unreasonable expectations, can all take a toll on our peace of mind and well-being. When someone is actively grieving the loss of someone they loved, or life has delivered a significant blow of any kind, it can be especially difficult to get through the holiday season feeling joy-filled.
So we all have to hold fast to whatever joy we can muster—and remember that it can be ours every day of the new year, not just when we are singing “Joy to the World.” We need to “repeat the sounding joy.” We need to seek it out and hold fast to it. And whenever we find we are running low on joy, we need to turn to the Lord and ask Him to fill us up from His infinite supply. (Nehemiah 8:10–“For the joy of the Lord is your strength.”)
Don’t pack away your joy with the Christmas decorations. Keep the joy. When necessary, seek the joy. And have a wonderful New Year!
The Sounds of Christmas
It may happen as early as October. You’re standing in the grocery store aisle trying to decide which of 15 oat and honey granolas would be best, when you suddenly realize you’re hearing Christmas carols coming from the store’s sound system. It strikes you as odd at first, but then you realize it’s just a sign that the holiday shopping frenzy is on the way!
Yet it’s not all bad. I actually love to hear Christmas carols any time of year. And although the Christmas season certainly has something to delight all our senses—the fresh smell of pine boughs, the twinkle of the lights, the creamy sweetness of a favorite fudge recipe—the sounds of Christmas are a cherished part of each year’s celebration.
Even the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow appreciated the importance of Christmas sounds when he penned the words to the familiar carol “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” for his church in 1864. The miseries of the Civil War were much with Longfellow as he wrote. He managed an optimistic first line reading, “I heard the bells on Christmas day, their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth, good will to men.”
But then in sadness he added, “And in despair, I bowed my head: There is no peace on earth, I said; For hate is strong, and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.” Gratefully he went on to write, “Yet pealed the bells more loud and deep: God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; the wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”
Those words are as comforting today as they must have been to those in Longfellow’s Boston Sunday school class decades ago. Can we let the sounds of Christmas peal in our hearts again? The carols we love can soothe our souls if we really listen to the words, and should be the primary soundtrack of our Christmas season—not just the background music in the grocery store. Add a choir singing Handel’s Messiah with full orchestral accompaniment to the mix, and you’ll be truly blessed!
And oh, the bells! I was blessed to live in a small town in Germany many years ago and can still remember the church bells ringing out familiar carols at Christmas time. Carillons and bell towers in small towns in America still do the same. Seek one out, bundle up on a bench nearby, and let the bells minister to you.
Listen for the sounds of Christmas in your own home, too. Coffee perking before everyone is up on Christmas morning. Perhaps children or grandchildren squealing with delight when they see their gifts. Laughter and conversation around the Christmas dinner table.
But may you also have moments of quiet solitude when you can reflect on the words of the angel accompanied by the songs of the heavenly host so long ago: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord (Luke 2:10-11).”