It’s that time of year! Christmas carols are playing everywhere – in our cars, in our offices, in the stores we visit, in our churches, and in our homes.

I was singing through the lyrics of “Away in a Manger” this morning and something landed differently. As I sung “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head, the stars in the sky look down where He lay, the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay,” I wasn’t just singing it. I saw it. I heard the sounds. I smelled the smells. It felt REAL.

On a typical day, you can walk into my office and smell my “Tiki Beach” wallflower from Bath and Body Works; at home, it’s usually “Cactus Blossom” or “Black Raspberry Vanilla” (when it’s not discontinued). I like the smell of the beach. I like the smell of fruity and clean things. Those scents are very different from what I “smelled” as I became part of the manger scene.

Musty Hay. (Surely that would be a best seller!)

Donkey Dung. (No poopourri available, y’all!)

Sheep Spray. (No glitter in this one!)

We think of the “appropriate,” “planned,” and “clean” places where a baby should be born. That manger met none of the above. It was dirty. It was damp. It stunk. WHY? The King of Kings was coming to this Earth…..WHY?

I can’t help but reflect on the truth that He was born into cold….damp…..smelly….dirty accommodations because it was foreshadowing of our hearts. He wasn’t afraid of or too good to come to our hearts because they were cold…..damp…..smelly…..and dirty.

Jesus was just fine with that manger and all of the things surrounding it. Thank God He was – because His willingness to be born in THAT place in THOSE circumstances paved the way for Him to be born in our hearts, too.

Our church hosts a series each year called “At the Movies.” On the first Sunday of this year’s series, we learned from a movie by the name of “CODA,” also known as “Child of Deaf Adults.”

As I sat taking in the message of the movie, one scene particularly spoke to me. Ruby, the one hearing child in the family, was sitting on her bed having a conversation with her mom. Through the beautiful gift of sign language, Ruby was brave enough to ask her mom if she ever wished Ruby was deaf. Wow. She really asked that. The entire auditorium seemed to hold its breath waiting for the mom’s response.

The mom paused for a moment and nodded her head “yes.” She then went on to tell Ruby that when they performed the hearing test on her in the hospital and reported to them that Ruby could hear, she was disappointed. (And it seemed as if the breathing in the room stopped again.) The mom explained that she didn’t really want Ruby to be deaf – but that she had no idea how to parent a hearing child. That daunting task – the inferiority complex it birthed in her mom – led to her desire for her daughter to not have an ability unfamiliar to her parenting experience.

Immediately, I was prompted by the Holy Spirit to take a trip to the cemetery after the service ended. I’d recently stopped by to check on the placement of my dad’s marker and saw that it was in place. I knew I had some business to take care of. You see, I carried some things around – like an infected fish hook in my back – because of things my parents DID do or say as well as things they DIDN’T do or say. That movie portrayed a perspective I had not considered – because my “differences” made me feel rejected or not good enough. That day, I knew I had believed a lie for a long time. I knew there were some things in me that they didn’t know how to parent….and that brought about some insecurity, especially in my mom. Hindsight is 20/20, right?

I headed over to the cemetery and visited my parents’ graves. Just about two weeks before Thanksgiving, I was processing that this year would look different. Lots of tears and emotions. But as I stood there and told them I forgave them for things they may not have even known I needed from them – I was also reminded of things they DID teach me and invest in me, times they WERE present, supportive and proud. I told them I loved them and missed them, and that I’d see them again soon – but not there. 😊 My face was streaked with tears and my nose was running – but the most evident physical change to me was the weight that came off of my shoulders. Forgiving someone for not being what they didn’t know how to be is powerful.

Later in the week, I was listening to Make Room as I drove around town. That was it! THAT is why I needed to make a trip to the cemetery. THAT is why I needed to forgive. THAT is why I needed to be reminded of good things. My heart needed to make room. Sometimes, we have so much junk in our hearts that we basically display a “NO VACANCY” sign. Maybe that keeps out some bad things – but it also keeps out a lot of really, really good things, too.

Luke 2 tells the story of Jesus’ birth. Luke 2:7 captures my attention because it says they had to find another place to go since there was “no room in the inn.” Again, hindsight is 20/20, but did they know what they missed by saying “We don’t have room for you!” that night?!? The Savior of the World could have been born in that Inn. However, there was no room. (On a silly side, think of how different this season would be – we’d be singing “Away in a Hampton” instead of “Away in a Manger.” 🤣)

Don’t miss this.

Sit here for a minute.

What is ready to be “birthed” in you – but there’s no room? Maybe it’s that dream you’ve carried for years but your heart is full of doubt and insecurity. Make room. Maybe it’s that relationship that could be healed, but you’re too full of pride to say I’m sorry or ask for (or extend) forgiveness. Make room. Maybe it’s that “habit” you know you’re being called away from, but you just don’t know how you’d make it without it. Make room. Maybe it’s trusting God to be God over all of your life and you surrender control. Make room.

The Lord took me from watching a movie to a cemetery so that He could set me free from some things I’d held onto waaaaaaaaaay too long. It wasn’t just to settle those things. It was to make space for healing to come in other areas of my life. Absolutely beautiful.

Oh, the things that could change when the sign over our hearts changes from “NO VACANCY” to “VACANCY.” He doesn’t look for a heart that’s in 5-star condition. He just looks for a heart that will have Him.

Last week, we “sprung forward,” so spring is just around the corner, right?!?

More daylight and warmer temperatures are the perfect opportunity to get out in the yard after taking the winter off. There was no need to mow and I strongly dislike raking, so very little was done in the yard for the past four months or so. No big deal, right?

Oh, how quickly we forget. The last time the grass was mowed last fall, it was edged, even, and (so I thought)…….weedless. Last week, there were a few sprigs of green grass trying to break through – but the most evident arrival was that of the weeds. In the yard. Around the mailbox. Among the mulch and the shrubs. WHERE DID YOU COME FROM AND WHO INVITED YOU? Asking for a friend.

I visited this website and was welcomed by the following quote: “Not everything goes dormant in the wintertime. Winter weeds are thriving and will wreak havoc in your garden. Be sure you’re prepared.” There’s much more to this statement than what you’ll see in your yard. That is applicable in life, too.

When you think of the word “winter,” what comes to mind? Here are a few words that immediately surfaced: Cold. Sweatpants. Fires. Soup. Gloves. Hibernate. Rest. Less daylight. None of those words really drive me towards a ton of activity; instead, “winter” lends itself to a focus on rest and recovery.

While all of us need “seasons” of rest in our lives, moving to a complete state of ignoring or avoiding will potentially lead to the unwanted arrival of “weeds” in our lives. Think about how quickly “weeds” can pop up in (or take over) our thought lives, our families, our marriages, our finances, our friendships, our work places, our ministries, our health, our dreams, our neighborhoods, and our Spiritual walks. “Not everything goes dormant in the wintertime.” Warning: our failure to acknowledge the presence of weeds does not eliminate their existence.

When we have taken four months off from anything, how can we expect things to just “maintain” the state at which we left them? If I don’t workout for four months, I’ll lose muscle. I’ll lose stamina. I’ll lose motivation. There is NO WAY I can walk back into the gym four months later and just pick back up as if I’d never left. Nope. I’ll be backing down on the weight to gradually build up again. I’ve let weeds move in. If I disconnect from personal growth in my Spiritual walk, I’ll likely find that I’ve become disinterested in and uncommitted to the things that help me grow and stay healthy (Bible reading/study, prayer, fellowship, serving, praise and worship). I’ve allowed weeds to move in.

Question for us to ponder: Why is it that we can easily find ourselves questioning “how the weeds got here” when we’ve done little to nothing to keep them out? In terms of the yard, do you ever find yourself complaining because “these weeds wouldn’t be here if the neighbor would just take care of their yard?” If we find it easy to cast blame on our neighbor every time a weed appears in our yard, do we equally give them all of the credit when our yard looks beautiful?

I can’t help but think of the Parable of the Talents. Two of the men took responsibility for their “talents” – what was entrusted to them – and they made much of them. One man, however, took no responsibility and simply cast blame for what he didn’t do. Sounds to me like he had some weeds in his yard, too. Must’ve been the neighbor!!!

No, I don’t like cold weather.

No, I don’t like raking.

No, I did not tend to my yard for four months.

Yes, I do love to have a thick, lush, green lawn full of grass…..not weeds.

My three excuses contradict my one desired outcome. I was dormant…..the weeds were not. Time to get back to work!

The afternoon of March 13, 2020 is crystal clear and a blur at the same time. It was a Friday afternoon and educators in Tuscaloosa County were excited about finishing the day and heading out for spring break……except an announcement came that changed everyone’s plans.

Little did we know that Friday afternoon that school would not actually resume until August of 2020 and that we would become very acquainted with technology to help us stay connected to our students, friends, and families. COVID-19 was here.

Masks.

Lysol/Clorox wipes.

Social distancing.

Fear.

Shortages.

Loss.

Quarantining.

All of the sudden, a handful of words rose to the top of our “most used” list and life, as we knew it that Friday would forever be changed.

Over the past two years, we’ve been on a roller coaster that has yet to end. There have been some small upward peaks and some very significant – and scary – drops. The question I ponder two years in is this…..what have we learned?

For a period of time, we valued the “heroes” who were first responders showing up for work every day to keep us safe and well in the midst of a pandemic. Walk into a hospital now. Is it still the same?

For a period of time, we learned the value of relationship and reached out to friends and loved ones when we didn’t know when we could see them again. How about now?

For a period of time, we returned to an emphasis of prayer….acknowledging our inability to “fix” the problem and our need to desperately cry out to God and ask for His involvement in changing the circumstances. How about now?

Years ago, our church was hosting a sermon series called “At the Movies.” That year, September 11 actually fell on a Sunday and we watched/learned from the movie “Flight 93.” One of the quotes that stood out to me the most and sticks with me today is this: “Crisis is a great editor.”

Crisis can quickly “burn away the chaff.” It can easily reveal what should get your time and attention and what should take a backseat. It can easily reveal what’s in your heart – even if that doesn’t align with your words.

My question for me – and maybe for you, if you’ll entertain it – is…..what have I learned? How has this two-year journey shaped me and changed me for the good? And maybe the not-so-good?

Today is a great time to reflect. Help us, Lord, not miss it. Help us not return to the less important things at the sake of the most important things. There’s been too much loss to forget what we need to have remembered.

The Lord appeared to Abram and said, “To your offspring I will give this land.” So he built an altar there to the Lord,who had appeared to him. From there he went on toward the hills east of Bethel and pitched his tent, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east. There he built an altar to the Lord and called on the name of the Lord. Genesis 12:7-8

There are so many mentions of altars in Scripture. Like the one mentioned above, altars often represented a personal encounter with God. The altar was built AFTER the encounter to serve as a reminder of what happened there. Because people tend to travel by the same places and pathways, the altars then served as a reminder of that encounter when that place was passed in the future.

There’s a lot that can be followed in the story of Abram. Many encounters with God. Many times he remembered the Lord’s goodness. Other times when he took things into his own hands to manipulate the outcome. Isn’t it awesome to think that even when we try to play the hand of God, it doesn’t change who He is? When things work out as we wish, He is still the same God. When things go completely opposite of anything we’d ever wish….He is still the same God. The altars of remembrance don’t disappear when we don’t get our way. In fact, that’s probably when they become the most meaningful.

November of 2016 was one of the most difficult months in my life. The Clifs Notes version will tell you that my dad had a ruptured aneurysm, had to be airlifted to a hospital in Mississippi, and that began a journey of surgeries and rehabs and successes and struggles. The Neuro ICU can be a lonely place. Yes, there are nurses buzzing around taking care of patients, doctors rounding with medical students, housekeeping coming through to keep things tidy and the nutrition team making sure the patients are well fed. Even when i was surrounded by people, including my dad lying in the hospital bed, I was alone.

In the midst of all of that, though, I got to build some altars. Linda was my dad’s first nurse. In the beginning, we had no idea if dad would wake up or what he would be like if/when he did. I was scared. But God sent a nurse named Linda (my mom’s name) to remind me that He was with us. Hannah was one of my dad’s nurses in the Neuro ICU. Her mother had the same type of aneurysm as dad and she became a nurse in THAT unit because she helped nurse her mom back to full health and wanted to do the same for people like her mom.

Friends and family members drove over to Mississippi to offer support, comfort, and presence. My husband stayed in town to take care of the kids and keep their routines as normal as possible. While I was away, friends back home helped provide meals to my family and care for my kids. One friend rode to MS with me that dreadful night because we didn’t think dad was going to make it and she refused to let me do that alone. A friend from college who lived in the area helped get my aunt to the airport so she could fly back to Cleveland. There are so many things that happened that I am just truly grateful for.

So why the reflection now? Almost five years later?

In August, I got to travel to Arkansas to present to the El Dorado School District. The way I drove to Arkansas was through Mississippi. Jackson, Mississippi. Home of the University of Mississippi Medical Center where Dr. Chad Washington and team saved my dad’s life. Home of moments of brokenness and peace and fear and celebration. As I drove through, I remembered each hotel I stayed in during my time there. The meals I ate at Cracker Barrel. And the coffee I picked up each morning at Dunkin’ before heading to the hospital. After we presented in Arkansas, I drove back home. Through Mississippi. Jackson, Mississippi. Home of the University of Mississippi Medical Center. Home of Sal and Mookie’s pizza joint. Home of Cups Espresso Cafe. Home of prayers answered and dependence on the Lord established.

The awesome thing was that my friend and co-worker Cheryl was on that trip with me. As we drove back through Jackson on the way home, I got to tell her all about God’s provision for my family in that city.

A lot has happened since November of 2016. A lot has been good. A lot has been really, really hard. Those hard times could easily cause me to forget. So, Lord, thank you for choosing the hard days of August 2021 to drive me back through Jackson, Mississippi…..twice……so that I would remember. You’ve been with me through it all.