Light the Lights (A Three Word Wednesday Post)

The author is unknown but this is one of my favorites - every year

For the length of my married life and for a good length of time before that, we have celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah. It’s something I began before my husband and I were even dating and a celebration that he has segued into more smoothly than I could even imagine. But here’s the thing that tends to throw my friends (and sometimes family) if they don’t already know:

We’re not Jewish.

We’re not even messianic Jews (go Google that one). Just a plain old Christ-believing family with an additional tradition that helps usher in one of the quietest, holiest days of the year. Growing up, I remember sharing the Passover and Hanukkah with friends of our family who were Jewish, and then shared a home with a college roommate and her family who also shared both celebrations.

After hearing several presentations on finding Christ in the Passover, I started gaining a deeper understanding of the Old Testament prophesies and their fulfillment in the New Testament. It gave these traditions and festivals a new life – one I now had a connection to as a child of God grafted into the covenant of Abraham.

Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham. And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith. Galatians 3:7-9

For Hanukkah, we simply focus on the Menorah – the lighting of the lights. We talk a little about the history behind it, but much of what we share is about the miracles that God works, has worked, and is working. In the past in history, in our lives, and what He still does today. I have a wonderful book by the Rabbi David Aaron, Inviting God In, Celebrating the Soul-Meaning of the Jewish Holy Days, and while not everything applies, some things do.

One metaphor he uses that I especially like is about imaginary flashlights and what they might show:

Imagine for a moment that you have walked into a magic store that sells special flashlights equipped with different kinds of magic lights. For example, if you shine the “light of science” on your hand, you see not a hand but cells and blood vessels and tendons and ligaments. Another flashlight might be called the “light of art,” and if you point it at your hand you see form and color and texture as if your hand were a painting by Leonardo da Vinci. You are having a lot of fun trying out the different lights, and then you see one labeled ‘the light of Hanukkah.” What will you see in that light?”

The light of Hanukkah is about miracles. About a God who reveals things as new; who defies reason and logic; and who created something from nothing. And is the God of the impossible.

Some people roll their eyes at talk of miracles and continue to call it impossible, impractical, and intolerable. As if God needed to be contained in a manageable box that we could wrap our minds around and understand. Though it sometimes terrifies me, there is something I also love about the unknowingness of God. I don’t want to be able to grasp all of Him. I want there to always be something else outside my realm of understanding. I want Him to be so much more than I could ask or imagine. I want Him – no I need Him to be the God of miracles.

In the light of Hanukkah we see that everything is a miracle, that anything is possible, and that hope shines eternal.

And so each season, we open the first of the winter holiday boxes (this year really early!), bring out the Menorah, the candles, the blue plate with the star of David; we roast the chicken, stir the honeyed carrots, fry the latkes in the oil. And we light the lights.

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up and am looking forward to getting to know this circle of writers. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Fly

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This Week: Fly

Go

It’s been four years. That’s a long time to be away. There is so much that I miss. But so much that I don’t. Did I read once, “you can never go home again?” We tried. It didn’t take. It didn’t take at all. Almost wrenched us out of orbital alignment and sometimes, there’s still the bitter copper taste of old blood and bad memory when we talk about it. But it’s a good place to be from.

It’s home. Where the heart is. And there is so much of my heart that is still there. So much that it hurts.

While I have planted my feet securely in the Pacific Northwest, my lungs breathe with the rhythm of the waves against the sand on Lanikai and my skin longs to feel the sweep of the trade winds coming off the Ko’olaus.

I have left roots in the islands that will never sever, no matter how long I am away. And though I sometimes struggle with the distance and what it means, there is part of me that will always find my way home there.

It is an unfolding that is as easy as tumbled sheets and well-worn blankets, thin with age. The tension I consistently carry in my day-to-day somehow melts as I wrap myself in family, familiar scents, sounds, and the food that I cannot let go of – keeping numbers of long-forgotten and closer restaurants in my phone just because I can. My husband says even my language loosens; my cadence slows; and though I’ll swear to you I don’t have an accent of any kind, he grins to hear me order items and hold conversations with people who suddenly sound more like me than I thought they did.

There is no trans-Pacific highway, even in my dreams, but I’ll be on a concourse soon enough: t minus just a few days now. Shivering in the early morning here because in less than six hours, I’ll step out there and smell that singular mix of salt spray, plumeria, and tarmac that lets me know I’m home. The only way to get there is to fly – I’ve got to get on that plane and go. I’m not excited yet – I never am until the last minute.

And then the last minutes will vanish like candle smoke and I’ll forget all the worries and stresses that have been plaguing me and it will just be joy at the idea of being home. Seeing them and being in their arms and in the midst of their love. For that, I will fly.

Stop

A little sound of home that always takes me back:

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Let It Go (A Three Word Wednesday Post)

As I join up with the indomitable Beth for the Three Word Wednesday, there is only one person I’m writing to.  And it’s not you. Please feel free to eavesdrop here. Stop a while and be the fly on the wall. If you see yourself in these letters and phrases, go ahead, read them to yourself. But don’t think for one second that I’m writing them to you. If I could type and look in a mirror, I’d be doing just that.

I’m almost hesitant to bring it up – I don’t want cheers of encouragement in this endeavor; I don’t want any “you go girls” or any such nonsense because frankly, it will just frustrate me more. I just need to say this as a reminder. Because I’m trying to be a better reflection. And a better tree. And a better mother. A better woman. A better human.

Let It Go

Have you seen how many times I’ve written that here? Want to guess how many times it’s actually happened? What is it about the clinging to things had; things past; things remembered that makes the release so difficult. In my experience, the things I need to let go of that I’m clinging tightest too are not the admirable, honorable, desirable qualities and characteristics that I want to strive for. They’re the little things that I think everyone else has forgotten. When they’re cheering for the accomplishments and focusing on the achievements, they forget to look under the bed and in the back corners of the closets to the things that I’ve tucked away – hoping that no one will notice.

Let It Go

Sometimes it's burdens. Somehow I’m arrogant enough to think I can carry them alone; stumble along in the dark and the cold on my own strength; searching in the dark with my own understanding.

Sometimes it's regret. Wanting to live fully in the moment, but realizing that I left something undone; something unsaid, someone unattended to. I pause in the momentum and look back. And the might have been is overwhelming.

Sometimes it's expectations. My own. The ones I think others have of me. These millstones I choose to pick up – I don’t even know how to stop. For all my carefree attitude and dismissal of what others think, expectations still haunt me.

Sometimes it's someone else's junk that you have absolutley no control over. I am the oldest child. A big sister. A mom. I have been the caretaker, the peacemaker, the problem-solver, the stratgizer, the fixer-upper, (Lord help me) the doormat, and the glue - all in the name of making it work out. For everyone else. It has been bred into me and feels like it is in my nature to do this. I don't know if I can do it anymore. For everyone. Because that's the scope I tend to look at when I see the problems. Everyone.

Let It Go

It is weary work to carry the burden of expectation, regret, the assumption of strength. We were never meant to do this alone.

Come to me, all of you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. 
Matthew 11:28-30 Phillips NT

I feel there is more to be said, and I may pick it up another day. But to be honest, the weight of this is bearing down, and I and trying desperately take my own advice.

Let It Go

I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up and am looking forward to getting to know this circle of writers. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Behind the Scenes - A Sushi Date (Four Years in the Making)

We had made a deal to go out for sushi. It was going to be our thing. We talked about it, planned it, and determined that it was going to happen. Four (or five, but who’s counting) years later, it actually happened.

Some friendships are predicated on time spent together. They grow by the bonding and investment of time spent, projects worked on, experiences shared. I have friendships like this and they are priceless. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But every once in a rare while something else comes along. Like Kristen.

We met when our kids were in preschool together – her youngest and my only – not even in the same class. We sat on the Board together, volunteered in the classroom, and participated in the fundraising events. Casual conversations led to discoveries of things we had in common: our love of writing, reading, music, certain specific British shows, and sushi. We became Facebook friends and emailed occasionally – we even shared a book group for the length of several novels. But the one thing we never seemed to have much of was time. Time together, just for us, just as friends, to do that thing that friends do together – grow.

And yet we did. Through the emailed conversations, quick requests for prayer, catching up over curious questions and curious wine at book group, our friendship grew. She has always been someone with whom I felt camaraderie with; someone with whom I could take down the veil; someone to whom I could show the me that I don’t always let out of the box. And I never really questioned it. It was a gift.

Tonight at dinner, it was a gift again. The conversation was more than serpentine or rabbit trail. It was positively Rubik’s cube – as we bounced from one topic to another pinging from the hilarity of the sushi selection into the depths of soul-wrenching that family can bring to the “why” of celebrations that are not necessarily connected with our history. I know there were tears in both our eyes at some point during the course of the night and that at more than one point I laughed out loud like I have not laughed in a very long time. At one point, the conversation sparked into marketing strategy that got me started on a road almost I’d forgotten (almost forgotten how much I loved it), and I looked at her and said, “I have no idea where that came from.” A very good friend will do that for you.

I feel like I’ve been telling stories of friends and friendships lately, and these stories are important. Not just because of how friendships can sustain us and encourage us through the changing tides of our lives, but because not all friendships look the same. They don’t start the same, they don’t evolve the same, and they don’t end the same. They are as varied and variegated as the people we are in relationship with, and that variation is so important to cultivating who we are and who we become.

Is there a special friendship in your life that has grown deep without the traditional watering? Cherish it. Do you have others that you see around you that you wish were more? Invest in them. We are more together than we are apart, bound tighter in our faith and knowledge of Him when we have others who walk with us along the way, and will simply laugh louder and longer when we have someone to share our secrets and dreams with. Friendship. This is a gift.

I'm linking up with Crystal Stine and company again today; joining the Behind the Scenes link up –  where we show those photos – but tell the real story behind them. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Five Minute Friday - Tree

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.  

This Week: Tree

Go

I watch her growing. Every day it’s a little bit more. A little bit better. A little bit more than I’m ready for. There are dips and lapses – of course there are – what else would growing up be if not a challenge to rise and rise again.

Tonight, she slipped up and something not-so-little-girlish slipped out from between her lips. Her eyes met mine in the dark; in the rearview mirror; she saw my eyebrow go up – that Spock-esque look that took me years in front of a mirror in junior high to master. “But I caught it,” she cried, “I changed it.” I nod. “But I know what you were saying anyway, right?” She slumps. Tears fill those eyes that, even in this dim light, I know twinkle green. They threaten to spill over. I sigh.

“You are more your mother’s daughter sometimes than I wish you were.”

She rubs her head soft on my shoulder. I feel the whisper of still-baby fine hair tickle my neck. “What’s that mean, Mama?” her voice is still soft and careful. I explain that I know where that not-so-girlish word came from. She’s heard it from me – heard me toss that phrase out before, I’m sure more often than I’d like to count. I tell her that it’s a choice she has to make, but that it’s part of my fault too. Can’t ask her to not do something she’s seeing right in front of her.

“How does all this mean that I’m yours and you know it?”

I laugh – that’s almost too easy. I tell her I would know it because she’s sassy and spunky and can’t possibly belong to anyone else being like that. Suddenly, she’s all little girl again, dissolving into laughter in the back seat trying to decipher exactly what spunky means.

You hear the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

No kidding. My little apple landed on my roots. My crumply, wrinkly, messed up, dirty roots. I wrestle daily with this dilemma – how to be the kind of tree that I want her to fall near and grow up under. How can I be a mother and still be such a mess? Right – still human. Still vulnerable. Still in need of a Savior.

I’m grateful every day that I have One who went to a tree and hung there, bound by nothing more than love surrendered so that in my crumply, wrinkly, dirty mess, I can turn to Him again, and again for mercy and grace. And the lessons I need to raise this apple up into her own little tree.

Stop

Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.
He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17:7-8 ESV

How to Join
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Listen To Me (A Three Word Wednesday Post)

He moves in my words, and although I’m a bit overwhelmed and blessed to learn when I’ve ministered to others, or when the words He gives me have touched them, I’m moved and humbled even more when it’s me He calls again – so often with my own words – and beckons me to learn a new lesson. Or shall we say a lesson again.

It is the apex at which I most often break. That which would remain if you boiled down the question: what is the one thing that might make her behave the most like a mad woman? The one thing that will upend me when I can hold on with patience for all else.

Listen to me

I have never claimed to be a patient person – it is beyond an Achilles Heel. This is not a tendon – it is possibly an entire limb. My devastating weakness tied into one of the things with which I struggle most. I am impatient and I am often angry. Simmering beneath the surface of my daily calm – that part is not insincere. I am generally quiet and collected and content. Until you push just hard enough.

And they all push

They don’t listen. This is life. It happens. I get that. I don’t pretend to be the center of some grandiose universe; expecting everyone to revolve around me. I don’t mark time for others. I don’t measure the steps of those near me. But if I ask you to hang up your clothes, remember to not show my child a particular movie, or for the love of Pete, flush the toilet so all the junk goes down, I rather expect you’ll do it. Especially that last one.

Time to look in the mirror

As I stood fuming in the women’s bathroom at work; practicing my yoga breathing and ticking off, with growing annoyance, the list of “why can’t they just listen tos” that had filled my last twenty-four hours, I felt one of His gentle nudges. I wish I could say I responded with immediate grace and humility, but it was more along the lines of “really Lord, because all I’m asking for is a fresh bowl. And clothes not on the floor.” He pauses. He is silent.

Be still and know

Not three words, but the God of the universe doesn’t have to conform to our rules now, does He? Echoes of what I’ve so often said, “I just asked you to …” “I just wish you would …” “Why won’t you just listen to me?” How many times have I read and heard the voice of God with simple requests asking me for something. “If you love me …” How often do I instead, casually careen through my life; not paying attention; not listening. And how many times in His infinite grace, wisdom, and patience, has He remained in place, waiting without time for me to come back. Listen to me.

Love me with all your passion and intelligence

Love others as well as you love yourself

Be generous to the poor

Do what is fair and just to your neighbor

Be compassionate and loyal in your love

Be still and know

Listen to me

He promises peace, wisdom, and a Helper who will never leave to those who love Him, keep His commands, and listen. There is refuge and strength for those who are still and quiet. There is redemption from a steadfast God for those who love justice and mercy in humility. How is this not worth one moment of stopping my catechism of wants and silencing the lists of my desires?

Okay Lord.

You got me.

I am listening


I'm joining Simply Beth for her Three Word Wednesday link up (so happy to be here, finally!) and am looking forward to getting to know this circle of writers. For this link up, choose three words; share a post, photo, or scripture that highlights those three words; link up here; and share some encouragement and blog love with other writers.

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!

Passages quoted from Matthew 22:37, Proverbs 28:27, Micah 6:8 MSG, Psalm 46:10 NIV

Behind the Scenes - Online Friendship in Real Life

Four months ago, I wrote a Behind the Scenes piece about getting organized and cleaning up – wonderful preparations for a room that was far overdue for an overhaul while getting ready to meet a new friend. Months turned into weeks. Weeks turned into days. And before I knew it, it was hours before this in real life meeting was about to take place.

From the moment we discussed the idea – meeting up after her trip to Allume and attending Women of Faith together – and I threw out, “I would love to have you come and stay with us while you’re in town,” I was excited.

Karrilee & my daughter at her school

And then I was terrified.

I may write freely and with expression; I may strive for transparency here on this pixelated canvass; I may do my best to peel back my layers, lay down masks, and share the experiences that have changed my life in order to give others hope, but none of that changes the fact that I am an intensely private person with a carefully guarded world.

I have written here about my own challenges with community, and struggles with relationships with woman that have almost wrenched me undone. I am slow and careful, even with those who are near to my heart. I have boundaries. I’ll laugh and say this: let’s be honest, I probably have issues. Voluntary new people are hard for me.

I had hopes this would be different. She was the first one to say hello when I ventured into the Five Minute Friday Twitter party. Figuring out that we lived in the same general region provided an instant connection for me to grasp, and we continued to have conversations on Twitter and on our blogs. Those conversations led to friending each other on Facebook and more connections. As we wrote, we found one thing after another that we had in common and #kindredspirits became a favorite hashtag.

In the days leading up to her arrival, I tried to pack my days full of preparation so that I couldn’t dwell on any nervousness or overanalyzing (because that’s what my brain will do). On the big day, her plane arrived a little early and the text, we’re here in baggage claim, was a gift in surprise, because instead of a casual drive up to the airport with time to kill (and overanalyze things)  I had to leap into my car and focus on arriving at the car lot in one piece.

Can I tell you that saying hello in person and falling into a hug was the most natural thing – as if I were picking her up at the airport for the fortieth time, not the first? As we drove back home, the conversation flowed so naturally it felt like breathing. Even introducing her to my not-quite-perfect home didn’t feel as difficult as I imagined it might have.

She has a family structure similar to my own, a husband and just one girl, and my girl fell head over heels for her (that’s the two of them outside her school in the picture above). We enjoyed the conference together, learning, listening to women we’d been waiting so long to hear, worshiping in His presence.

I don’t know if every encounter with an online friend will feel like this – a seamless blending where it seems our very heartbeats slip into a shared rhythm – but I’d like to think this is what I’ll strive for as I do this again; what you can strive for as you meet your own writing friends in real life.

This community we participate in, it opens wide and welcomes all. It has its ebbs and flows – how can it not? It is only comprised of vulnerable, human women, complete in all their flaws. But between those ebbs and flows, God’s grace weaves in; twining itself about and through our hearts to wrap over and cover those misteps that might occur. His grace also wraps us close to knit our hearts and allows us to share the gift of His words and His spirit when we come together in His name to praise, grow, and build community together.

Karrilee, you have been an incredible gift to me this year, and I am so happy and blessed to have had the gift of meeting you in real life and sharing time with you. Of course, now that it’s happened, I’m just plain greedy and want more. I stare at the road signs for I-90 and dream of heading over the pass – just keep driving past Snoqualmie to the other side to see my new friend. All in His time. Until then, we’ll stay connected in all our technological ways, and I will continue to be blessed by your friendship and your encouragement. Love you friend ♥

I'm linking up with Crystal Stine and company again today; joining the Behind the Scenes link up –  where we show those photos – but tell the real story behind them. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it.

My friend Karrilee blogs at Abiding Love, Abounding Grace. She consistently opens my eyes to new truths about God and reminds me to celebrate the life He has given by Speaking Life, Being Love, and Shining On. You should visit her. Immediately. I'm so serious about that!

I'd love to connect with you some more - stop on by the Three Bees Facebook Page or connect with me on Twitter @3BeesBlueBonnet. Let's continue the conversation!