But...the Party's In the Basement"

 "The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him." John 1:9-10 [NIV]

Before even getting up out of my chair, I knew what the knock at the door meant. From this side of the heavily  treated wood and fogged up glass, it felt ominous, dark, and foreboding. I had no idea what to expect once the door actually opened, but I could guess about  how it would go....

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Image: wjhl.com

Ducking behind proverbial skirts, I called out for Steven to answer the door. We both knew what was about to go down and I decided to be a big emotional chicken and pass the buck up to the head of the family. [poor Steven, lol].

It's been a rough year for everyone. Scratch that, it's been a rough TWO years for everyone. Unfortunately, that equates to a rough year for the owner of our current domicile, as well. Pulling up stakes, he has decided to place this home on the market. 

Hence, the knock at the door.

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Steven shuffled over to the door and opened it, stepping outside to greet the short woman who seemed about our age, with a slight deer-in-headlights look about her face, but a friendly smile across her lips. As I followed my hubby out the door, it occurred to me that this woman has probably had to deal with a lot if her job is to serve the people of her county walking papers all day. I then remembered that while packing up the storage pod, I'd placed Steven's heirloom shotgun right in the glass cubby of the door entry way. Probably NOT a very welcoming sight. 

Then ... I was COMPLETELY surprised. Both parties relaxed a little. SHE saw the moving pod, all the boxes, the mountain of trash ready to be hauled to the curb. WE saw that she wasn't carrying hand-cuffs, or a bullhorn to announce our disgrace, or packing heat. She was just a woman doing her job.

She apologized. SHE apologized. It wasn't her job to. SHE doesn't own this property and decided to sell it out from under us. But SHE expressed how sorry she was that she had to serve us our official 15 day eviction notice. 

WE apologized to her for having to come out here in the first place. Then we told her, we know God has everything under control. We really ARE richly blessed. And she returned with "Merry Christmas". Not happy holidays, not season's greetings or an awkward smile indicating some form of discomfort over the phrase. Just .... "Merry Christmas". 

And then she brought the tears to my eyes because she made solid eye contact and said: "God bless you."

Image: Dave Granlund

You know what, sweet eviction notice lady? He already has! He really already HAS!

Imagine a different sort of eviction notice in a different time and space, in a very chaotic and crowded atmosphere. Joseph and his very pregnant wife just WALKED roughly 100 miles with a donkey for their only comfort - not because they wanted to visit some distant family before the baby arrived or because they wanted to celebrate something with friends, but because they HAD to register for a census so the king could make sure he got taxes out of them. Fun, huh?  Joseph gave this only comfort  donkey ride to his wife, he very likely walked the entire way. 

Bethlehem was by this point, bursting at the seems with folks, having all done their duty and travelled to register for the census. It was customary at the time for travelers to stay with family whenever they were away from home. Looking at the Hebrew words: malon, pandochelon, kataluma  we learn that they translate to "earliest night resting place". In short, there were no inns the way we define them. An inn was a resting place for the caravan, or family, or group of travelers while on the road, but it was usually a predetermined spot where a family member lived or a watering hole hid tucked into some rocky outcrop. It wasn't some fancy building with a hostess dressed in all black and a fake smile plastered on her face. 

Now imagine this ... Joseph and Mary didn't even get their foot in the door of the "inn" before being served their eviction notice. And it seems to me that this must have stung Joseph, at least just a little bit. His FAMILY was telling him, "oh sorry .... you took too long to get here .... or, Uncle Jeb has the guest room but you can stay down in our stable, we really don't mind.". I can see the person at the door wondering about what all the other family members would think if the household actually WELCOMED a woman of questionable pregnancy and her "husband". What would the neighbors say? But the dug out, cave like, dank storage space for the animals? Yeah, that's ok. We don't mind if you hunker down there out the way in the dirt where no one can see you and you can't visit with family.

But .... THAT'S where the party is! It's in the basement! It's in the dug out, cave like, dank storage space for the animals. In a watering trough for live stock, THE LIGHT of the whole world came to us. And even back then, when it all got started .... people didn't recognize Him for what He really is. 

This little baby? Wrapped up in the swaddling clothes probably made by Mary, placed in a musty old drinking trough that probably still had animal spit on the outside of it -- this little baby, Jesus? He is EVERYTHING! God's FINAL word! This is it folks! We were gifted the one true real light. There isn't another one. There isn't something "bigger" and "better" coming just around the corner. JESUS is everything. 

And WE were gifted this priceless gift in the most humble and unassuming way. 

So many of us miss the party. We turn away the questionable pregnancy, or we shun the adulterer, or we gossip about so-in-so's finances or what's-their-name's language. We offer the stable to those of us with whom we don't agree, or don't understand. It's the trough for you of questionable sexual preference or orientation. Go to the dank cave you of the mental illness or bi-polar disorder. 

Image: John Cole

It really does astonish me sometimes that the more things change, the more things stay the same. We still turn Jesus away at the door and tell Him there is no room. There is no room in this life of the pandemic and the homeless and the broken. But my friends. JESUS is the only light in this chaotic darkness. HE is the smile on sweet eviction lady's lips, He's the smile on mine. I have been personally given the most precious, the most valuable, the most amazing and beautiful Christmas gift of any time anywhere. 

Guess what? You were, too!

Is There Any Hope?

 "In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:4-5 [NIV]

Eyes are closed, steam is billowing up into the air because the window is open just a crack, and the frosty air of early morning is dancing with the heat from the water. There is no sound but my heartbeat because I'm completely submerged. 

Image: Public Domain Wikimedia.org

Mornings begin with physical therapy in a tub of hot water while I unkink tight tendons and get my surgical mesh to straighten back out after a night of sleep. I love this little moment of my day. Not because of the pain, obviously, but because it's quiet. With my head at the bottom of a hot bathtub, earplugs in, and warm steaming water all around me, I pray, sometimes hum, plan out the day ahead, make mental lists, and even come up with a blog idea or two. But today, it's just quiet. 

In my head, I can hear Morse code and tap out a little message on the bottom of the bathtub. Yesterday, our Pastor shared the story about the USS S-4 submarine that sank while doing routine maneuvers between buoys just off the coast of Provincetown, MA. During this exercise, the US Coast Guard destroyer "Pauling" was on patrol at about 18 knots and accidentally rammed the S-4, sending her straight to the bottom. 

Immediately, massive efforts were put in place to rescue the crewmen on board. They were running out of air, and what little they had left was quickly filling up with chlorine gas because sea water had flooded the battery compartment and created a deadly chemical reaction. 

Into the water splashed Lt. Fitch. 

A professional Navy diver, Fitch, was sent to the sunken vessel to assess the situation under the surface. His task had been to set up the proper rescue cables, rigging, and safety equipment and begin the dangerous and laborious rescue of the trapped men inside. Having already made initialcontact with the men inside the crumpled boat at the bottom, Fitch stopped mid-task when he heard a question being tapped out against the hull.

"Is there any hope?"

Bringing my head up out of the hot bath water and watching the steam on my skin mix with the cold air from the window, I can't imagine being tasked with answering that question. By this point, Lt. Fitch knew they were not going to be able to get the crew of the S-4 out alive. A massive storm had broken out overhead, and the rescue teams had been ordered to haul back into shore for their own safety.

Image: Public Domain Wikimedia.org

But Fitch did answer. He replied: "There is hope. Everything possible is being done."

Those words must have cost him because, in reality, Fitch knew there wasn't any hope. Again, I can't even begin to wrap my head around the gravity and sheer oppressive magnitude of the situation those men faced.

ALL of them.

And I FEEL that question right now. It weighs down on me as I attempt to get all the water droplets off my skin before the goosebumps inform me that I am cold. I feel the heavy weight of those words as my feet hit bare tile because the bath mat and most of the bathroom have already been boxed up.  And I FEEL that question as I look around at all those boxes, the piles of bubble wrap and tape, and prepare to roll up my sleeves for another day of packing and cleaning. 

There are moments in my life when it's difficult to see that there is hope. Moments like; hubs losing his job, the owner of our rental selling the house after we'd just renewed our lease, the endless question; will my chaotic,  painful, and janky medical journey ever smooth out?...

I tap it out... absent-mindedly... on the bathroom counter. Is there any hope? Do we have a place to go? Will we have a shelter under which to place a Christmas tree this year? Even if it IS just our little Charlie Brown tree with the one red ornament drooping from its single bough?

I've also heard this question posed more frequently of late in public. In the grocery store, at the gas station, at the thrift shop... where I proceed to haul another box of donate-ables; from the yard guy who is losing his business because people can no longer afford to pay someone else to do their grass, from the entrepreneurs who bought up properties thinking they could get a foot into the real estate business and now find themselves scrambling to unload assets because they are no longer really assets, and from people like me - unloading un-necessaries from an overloaded inventory that you are forced to relocate at someone else's behest. 

The song sung by the man before the Waffle House pulls at my heartstrings the most. With the sole possession of an acoustic guitar strapped around him cross-body, he plays for tips because ... he lost his son to the state when his job loss lead to homelessness.

I find my fingers tapping again.

Is there any hope?

Indeed, there IS. 

John reminds us that even in the dark, even when the skies are belting out snow blizzards and the power is out, or we find that we are BACK in the job market while we attempt to support a family, or we are in the hospital AGAIN.... in Jesus, there IS light. In Him, there IS life, and that life is the light of ALL mankind. You, me, EVEYBODY!

Even right now! ...in this unstable and topsy-turvy dark storm - Jesus IS the light. Jesus IS our hope.

Sometimes the tunnel through which we are forced to sludge and grope is so overwhelming, so dark, so demoralizing that the only thing we can do to survive the magnitude of the thing, is focus on the light at the end of it. But we know, because history has proven this a gabillion times if God hadn't already right out PROMISED us... it really doesn't rain every single day, and when we focus on the light that Jesus freely provides .... and keep moving forward - one moment, one prayer at a time .... we WILL get to better terrain. 

For God promised us ... NO darkness can overcome the REAL light. It SHINES in the darkness. No matter how dark it seems to get.

When we can't figure out how we're gonna get through this moment? ...how we're gonna keep the lights on, how we're gonna survive the loss of someone we love, or heal after a trauma? ...how are we gonna get through 2024? Sometimes, we just can't asnswer those questions right now. But we CAN see the hope and focus on THAT. Because we know that while we don't know how things are going to work out? We are EMBRACED by the ONE who does.