Sunrise

 

My favorite time of day (other than cocktail hour) is sunrise. In the hot summer, I walk at White Rock Lake, arriving before dawn. When it’s colder, I nestle in my prayer chair and watch the sunrise from my east-facing window.

Every sunrise is a little different. On cloudless days, the brilliant sun is too bright to look at. The best sunrises are when there are clouds and dust in the air to create breathtaking colors from deep purple to pale pink. Sometimes the sun is as bright red as a stoplight. My favorite is when it emerges as a bright rosy orange sphere. Some days the clouds are just too thick for the rising sun to break through.

As we transition from one calendar year to the next, it seems appropriate to spiritualize the sunrise. I’m not the first to do so. Here are some wonderful Bible verses that mention the sun.

2 Samuel 23:3-4, the last words of David: “When one rules over people in righteousness, when he rules in the fear of God, he is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after rain that brings grass from the earth.”

Psalm 19:1, 5-6: The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands…. In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun. It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, like a champion rejoicing to run his course. It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is deprived of its warmth.

Psalm 84:11: For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.

Proverbs 4:18: The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.

Ecclesiastes 11:7: Light is sweet, and it pleases the eyes to see the sun. (The word “sun” appears 32 times in Ecclesiastes.)

Malachi 4:2: But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays.

And I’m not the first to make a connection with the sunrise and God’s constancy. We all have days of brightness and good cheer, when God’s presence is almost too brilliant to gaze at. Those gorgeous purple and orange colors that are so pleasing to the eye remind us of God’s tender, lavish care for His earth and His creatures.

Then there is the metaphor of the thick, impervious clouds. As the year 2020 closes out, my own vision is clouded with anxiety over events around me—the political situation, the continuing COVID crisis and its toll on the economy as well as on people’s lives. I’m also, as so many people are, deeply troubled about the well-being of someone I love. It’s a cold, dark, fearful time and place.

Still, each day’s rising sun assures us that God is still on His throne. Even when we can’t see the sunrise through the clouds, we know it’s there and that sooner or later, it will rise in all its brilliance. God promises His presence, and the ever-rising sun gives us His reassurance.

The Light Shines in the Darkness

 

I’m hoping to have lunch this week with a Jewish friend. For her, it will be the middle of Hanukkah, for me, the middle of Advent. As I think about this get-together, it occurs to me that she and I have so very much in common. Our respective faiths motivated us both to be involved in a social justice endeavor. Both of us are worried about a close family member who is very ill. And like everyone else, we are both reeling from the awfulness of this year of COVID.

We have much in common spiritually as well. Hanukkah, the festival of lights, commemorates the events of 168 BCE when the Jews, led by Judas Maccabeus, revolted and overthrew the Greek-imposed government and the king Antiochus IV Epiphanes. Antiochus had violently persecuted the Jews and desecrated the Temple.  The Jews sought to purify the Temple. They vowed to keep the lamps burning in the Temple for eight straight days and nights, but there was not enough oil to keep the flames burning. By a miracle of God, the oil lasted throughout the eight days and nights.

For Christians, Advent is the season of preparation before Christmas, when we commemorate the birth of Jesus. We believe that Jesus was God in flesh, manifesting as a normal human. His life as a teacher and healer led up to his death on the cross, which was a once-for-all atoning sacrifice for the sins of those who believe and accept this grace-gift of God’s forgiveness and mercy.

Of course, there is much, much more symbolism and meaning in both Christmas and Hanukkah. Through the ages, each generation and each individual has found a unique and timely application.

As I understand it, Hanukkah is about reconfirming faith in God, recognizing God’s faithfulness in delivering his people, in being present with them through all times and all circumstances. For me, Christmas is likewise reconfirming God’s faithfulness in delivering his people, in being present with them through all times and circumstances. We use the term “Emmanuel,” which is Hebrew for “God with us.”

The Jews, the Jewish faith, was intended by God to be a light to the Gentiles, that is, to all the peoples of the world who don’t yet know God. (Isaiah 42:6 and 49:6; Luke 2:32; Acts 13:47). Jesus, a Jew, called himself the light of the world (John 8:12).

As I look around me, there is so much darkness. Illness, injustice, violence, hypocrisy, delusion. But I also see people preparing for Christmas and celebrating Hanukkah. That’s why there are so many lights throughout the city and in people’s houses. People are always looking for the light – figuratively and literally.

Jews celebrate that light with the Hanukkah menorah, the eight-branched candle lampstand. Christians celebrate that light with candles, lightbulbs, and stars (as in the star of Bethlehem). To me, it’s pretty much the same thing. It is God’s light, God’s promise, God’s faithfulness. My two favorite Bible verses this season are: John 1:5 and Isaiah 60:1.

So, let us be comforted that “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” And let us be inspired to “Arise, shine, for your light has come.”

Gifts

Once a month or so, I gather on Zoom with some women from our church (mostly white) and some from another church in our city, who are mostly Black. We’ve been meeting with this group of ladies for about five years now. We converted to Zoom in June, due to the you-know-what pandemic.

Our objective has always been to build bridges among ourselves as a way of advancing racial reconciliation and social justice in our community. Since the group started as a book club, we often—but not always—focus on books and our mutual love of reading.

In our Zoom meetings since June, we have been very deliberate about discussing race issues. This was prompted by the shock and sorrow we all felt following the George Floyd killing. We were moved to up our game, energize our commitment. We have discussed specific books, created a running list of relevant titles, and shared our personal experiences with racism.

For our December gathering, we challenged ourselves to imagine a gift we would give to someone else that would deal with the issues of racism and social justice. I sent out the invitation with a couple of suggestions. I’d give the book White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo to a number of friends and family members (that I won’t mention by name). I’d give the legislature of Texas a semester course in Black history. I’d give a turkey dinner to all of my Black friends in this group just so we could enjoy each other’s company at length.

And I really would like to give those gifts. But as a participant in the discussion, I had to think up another gift idea to share.

My gift would be to all of the white people in my city and the Black people in my city: a day or a week of swapping places. Here’s why. One of the most enlightening things we do in this group is listen to each other’s stories. We started with some of our Black sisters talking about the racism they lived through. These women grew up in the South and forged their own education and careers decades ago when racism was much more overt and sanctioned than it is now. I was a little surprised when they wanted us white women to share our stories, too. We did some soul-searching and discovered that there is much more racism deep in our cultural and family backgrounds than we would like to admit. It was humbling.

We learned a lot from these short descriptions of our personal journeys. Imagine how much we would learn and understand if we actually walked a mile or more in someone else’s shoes.

Several of the sisters on our Zoom call had similar ideas about helping people understand on a visceral level the experiences of people “who don’t look like me.” One suggested a magic mirror to let the viewer see how others see her. Another wanted virtual reality glasses so the user could experience different scenarios. A particularly pointed suggestion was that each of us spend a day in a corporate human resources department interviewing candidates. The trick would be that, by removing anything that would indicate the candidate’s ethnicity, we’d have to base our judgment solely on credentials. This begs the question of what would be the demographic profile of the people we would hire.

All of us on the Zoom call were in agreement that learning about other people’s experience is vital to building bridges and advancing racial reconciliation and social justice.

We also were unanimous in our conviction that the best gift we could give would be a personal relationship with Our Lord Jesus. Only when our weary, broken world embraces Christ’s teaching, “Love your neighbor as yourself” will we have any hope of any kind of reconciliation.

Personal Best

 

I did it. I accomplished one of my personal goals of reading 100 books in one year. I’ve never been able to read more than about 75. I think I was able to reach the goal because I had a little more time on my hands this year to sit and stitch or knit while listening to an audiobook. Not much good has come from the COVID pandemic, but this would be on that list of silver linings.

My list includes 47 book books and 53 audiobooks. To be perfectly honest, a few of them were pretty short, such as the one-hour audiobook Agatha’s First Case, by M.C. Beaton or the 125-page Healing Hope: Through and Beyond Cancer, by Wendy Harpham, MD. On the other hand, the list also includes American Ulysses, by Ronald C. White (826 pages about Ulysses S. Grant); and Cutting for Stone, by Abraham Verghese (26-hour audiobook). I also included the Bible; at least I didn’t count that for 66 individual books.

I read more fiction (72) than non-fiction books (38). Due to the COVID pandemic, I often just wanted to read something sort of mindless and fun. That said, some of the fiction books were tough to read, such as The Winter Garden, by Kristin Hannah. On the other hand, a lot of the non-fiction was very entertaining, such as Save Me the Plums, by Ruth Reichl.

Within non-fiction, I read several spiritual books and a ton of books about social justice/racial reconciliation. I learned a lot. I also read a number of books about the Christian approach to LGBTQ issues. I am still learning a lot there, too.

The one-hundredth book was The Short Stories of Jesus, by Amy-Jill Levine. I read that book a few years ago and found it so intriguing, I wanted to read it again. It’s still intriguing and disturbing, which is what Dr. Levine wants for us to feel as we read the parables of Jesus.

Watch this space for some reviews or reflections on some of the books I’ve read this year. Let me know if you have any curiosity about my list.

Okay; I admit I may be bragging a little. Yet, this really has been a goal for me during the past few years when I started writing down each book as I finished it. I intend to read a few more before December 31, 2020. Who knows what next year brings? More enjoyable hours of reading, I hope. But fewer hours of being locked down due to COVID, I pray.

Giving Thanks

 

I have been thinking about thanks and thanksgiving for many months now. Back in April, I prepared a zoom Bible study on Philippians 4. That wonderful chapter is so encouraging, I thought it was perfect for the stress and worry we all felt during the COVID shutdown.

My main focus was on verse 6: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” It starts with the negative command, “Do not be anxious about anything.” The rest of the verse is a positive command, “Present your requests to God,” with several modifiers.

The whole verse is easy to say, but, frankly, it can be hard to understand and accept. So I gave it a lot of thought. The two commands, the negative and the positive, give us the means to address our anxiety. We have so many concerns and experiences in our lives that can make us anxious, but Paul extends these admonitions to every situation. Clearly, some situations will take more concentration and perseverance than others.

I also pondered the difference between “prayer” and “petition.” I think that prayer is the ongoing conversation we have with God. If we are in constant communication with Him, we naturally let Him know what we are concerned about. In 1 Thessalonians 5:17, Paul tells us to “pray continually.” A habit of communicating with God is very helpful for our day-to-day anxieties. Then, “petition” might be those very specific prayers for God’s intervention. In his wonderful meditation on Philippians 4, Anxious for Nothing, Max Lucado encourages us to be as specific as we can in these petitions. Doing so helps us narrow in on exactly what we (think we) need from God.

Then there is the phrase, “with thanksgiving.” This is also repeated in 1 Thessalonians 5:18, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” Actually, there are a zillion verses in the Bible that lead us to thank God.

If we take seriously the command to be thankful in all situations, we are going to have to be deliberate in finding things for which to be thankful. How difficult that is if… we are in financial difficulty; we have a personal relationship that is breaking our heart; we or someone we care about is suffering from pain or illness; and so on.

But here’s the cool thing: When we are deliberate and purposeful in looking for things for which to be thankful, we find them. It’s that same “selection bias” (or Baaden-Meinhof phenomenon) I mentioned in my November 17 blog, “Pet Peeves.”

Each year for Thanksgiving, most of us sit at the table and thank the Lord for the top-of-mind things: Our family, the great food, our innumerable blessings. This year for Thanksgiving, I hope you’ll join me in thinking even harder to ferret out as long a list as possible of things for which we can be thankful.

Advent

 

“Advent is coming” is a redundant statement. The word “Advent” comes from Latin and means “It is coming.” For Christians, Advent refers to the coming of Jesus Christ. We celebrate His birth on December 25, Christmas. Advent is also the season, i.e., the four Sundays, leading up to Christmas.

Most churches mark the four Sundays of Advent by lighting special candles. Each candle has some meaning. The first candle is for Hope, the second for Peace, the third for Love, and the fourth for Joy. Often, there is one more candle that is lit on Christmas Eve for Jesus.

Advent is a time for preparation. For so many of us, the focus is on the folderol of Christmas. We put up lights on the house or blow-up Santas on the front lawn. We drag out or purchase a Christmas tree. We decorate our homes. We bake special goodies and plan a feast. We buy presents. We send Christmas cards. (I say “we” here, but I mean, “some people.” I gave up sending Christmas cards in 1979.)

This preparation is so much fun—when it’s not too much work. The rituals and traditions are deeply satisfying, even for non-religious people. In this COVID-plagued year, the preparations are likely to have special poignancy. Many of us will not be able to celebrate with friends and family as we usually do. Even worse, for far too many of us, there will be empty places in our homes and hearts this year.

In the church, the folderol was never the point of Advent. For Christians, Advent is about preparing our hearts for the coming Christ. According to Christianity.com, https://www.christianity.com/christian-life/christmas/what-is-advent.html

Advent is intended to be a season of fasting, much like Lent, and there are a variety of ways that this time of mourning works itself out in the season. Reflection on the violence and evil in the world causes us to cry out to God to make things right—to put death’s dark shadows to flight. Our exile in the present makes us look forward to our future Exodus. And our own sinfulness and need for grace lead us to pray for the Holy Spirit to renew his work in conforming us into the image of Christ.

In my opinion, the best Christmases are the ones that are most deeply steeped in Christian spirituality. It can be a productive time for seeking God and attuning our hearts to His will. This can require some discipline. Besides attending church services on the four Sundays before Christmas and the services on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, we benefit from daily, personal time of prayer and Scripture reading.

This is why Advent devotionals can be helpful. Let me recommend two.

One is written by my friend, Dr. Debi Newman; Soul Transformation Through Advent. Debi is one of the most spiritual people I know. She leads you into deep contemplation that is challenging and uplifting. Her devotional has daily readings for Advent all the way through Epiphany, January 6. It even  has some recipes for sweet treats.

The other Advent devotional is mine: The Season of Songs.  This is my first self-published book. I  have always loved Christmas carols and some years ago I did some research into the backstories of my favorites. This Advent devotional has 28 daily readings. Each includes the lyrics to a well-known carol and some information for reflection.

Advent 2020 begins Sunday, November 29. You still have time to order one or both of these devotionals to arrive in time. No worries if you have to get a later start, though. Let me be the first to wish you a Merry Advent.

Pet Peeves

 

I think I might start a list of pet peeves. I’m sure I can come up with a very long list and add to it often. After all, when someone introduces a topic of conversation with, “What is your pet peeve?” my answer is always, “I have a whole menagerie of pet peeves.” Sadly, it’s true. I guess I’m more of a curmudgeon than I like to admit.

The idea came to me after I was telling my husband, John, about an incident that typified a pet peeve. I won’t describe it here. The person involved might recognize him/herself. That’s the advantage of a list of pet peeves. You can write them down, get them off your chest, but you don’t necessarily have to bore someone else with your complaining or insult the person responsible for this peeve.

There are probably different categories of peeves. The annoying things your friends and loved ones do. The irritations you encounter at work. There are probably pages to be filled with peeves concerning transportation, business and commerce and, God help us, politics. What makes a peeve a pet peeve? Are there stray peeves? Feral peeves?

I’ve seen other people post their pet peeves on Facebook and it just makes them seem, well, peevish.

Why not a list? I already write down all my prayers and petitions. It’s not exactly a list, because a lot of commentary goes with it. Lists are usually bullet points, right? That said, I suspect when I start listing my pet peeves, there will be copious commentary. All the more reason to put that in a list, rather than yammer on to someone else.

Recently, I counseled someone who’s going through a rough time with health issues to start a list of blessings. That is certainly not a new idea. Some years ago, there was a book called 14,000 Things to be Happy About, by Barbara Ann Kipper. Other books have been written on the same subject.

The purpose of writing down your blessings, I think, is that it forces you to look for blessings, or things for which to be thankful. In Philippians 4:6, Paul writes, “Do not be anxious about anything. Instead, in every situation, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, tell your requests to God.” I’ve thought about that verse so many times in the recent months, and I concluded that was the point of “with thanksgiving.” If you are looking for things to be thankful for, if you are expecting to find them, I believe your odds of finding them go way up. Selection bias (or Baaden-Meinhof phenomenon) is what they call it.

Of course, that calls into question the idea of listing negative things, those peeves. Would that make me look for peeves more diligently?

Well. That’s food for thought. Right now, I’m going to go eat lunch. I’ll heat up leftover Brussels sprouts in the microwave.

All Is Vanity

When I was growing up, we had a framed print in our house that fascinated me. It was a print of "All Is Vanity" by 19th century artist Charles Allen Gilbert.  Can you see it? It's called a "double image," or "visual pun," or maybe trompe l'oeil. 

I wish I could tell you why it fascinated me so. It still does.

Recently, I wondered if the image was available as a counted cross-stitch design. Googling revealed that it is. I purchased and downloaded the pattern from Etsy. 

This will be a daunting project. It's 131 by 199 stitches, so 26,069 stitches altogether. It is monochrome, although it has 21 different colors ranging from white to black. My friend says it's 21 shades of gray. Chuckle.

I thought I'd blog about the project and the progress I make.

So, the first thing I did was figure out the canvas. My first take was to stitch on 16-count fiddlers cloth, which is like Aida cloth, but beige. I cut off a piece, zig-zagged the edges, ran threads through the center, vertically and horizontally. I assembled all the DMC floss I need. Then I plunged in. 

The original 16 count fiddlers cloth        Everything assembled!          Progress, November 1. 

In no time, I had made serious errors. And I determined that backing out was too laborious, so I started over. This time, I used 14-count white Aida cloth. Again, I ran the cross threads. This time, I decided to stitch all the stitches on the vertical and horizontal center axis, rather than fill in all the, say, pale ice blue stitches near the center. This worked pretty well on the horizontal line. 

But when I started on the vertical line, I realized I had another weird error. For some reason, I was one row off. It took me a while to figure it out; apparently I had mis-counted. Fortunately, I hadn't made fatal errors yet, and I was able to rip out some of the stitches and redo them. I also decided to run white cross threads every ten spaces, vertically and horizontally. This is pretty tedious, but I'm convinced it will save me more fatal errors going forward. 

Here's my progress to date, November 11. The image on the left from a few days ago includes my colored-in chart that helps me keep track of what I've stitched. After 2,000 stitches, the image (on the right) is beginning to be clear. You can see the lower jaw of the skull, or, if you prefer, the bottles of cologne and makeup on the vanity table. 

             

So far, it has been fun. I still have that new-project enthusiasm, and I hope it lasts for another 24,000 stitches. 

Stay tuned. I hope all this effort won't be in vain. 

Repurposing

The last time this blog was updated was in 2016. A lot has happened since then, in case you haven't noticed.

I've been busy with a part-time job that I started in June 2014. Since spring of 2020 (Read: COVID quarantine), I've had a little more time on my hands. It seems like now is a good time to rethink, reset, and repurpose this blog. 

Heretofore, this blog was primarily a way to publicize things happening at my part-time job, which was at a church library. We have moved that blogging function to Notes on our Facebook page. Since I've had more time to be creative during the home confinement, I thought it would be fun to blog about some of the stuff I get creative or thoughtful about.

I'm planning to post blog entries about actual crafts: I love counted cross-stitch, knitting, crochet, and some sewing. I might have some ventures in cooking, because sometimes I surprise myself with an unusual concoction. I also look forward to blogging about things I think about. In particular, I like to write essays about my view on the world. More often than not, that view is connected to my religious faith and my Bible study.

This will be a learning experience. I'll be doing a lot of trial and error. Which is what this very post is about. 

Thanks for reading. I hope you find something of interest in my random postings. There's a comment section below; use it if you feel so moved.