Liz's Front Porch

Advent Minutes with Liz

   

Advent 2009

Up here on our hill, 2009 was difficult. Not bad. Just difficult.

Of course, God stood vigil over us through it all and I am deeply blessed.  Even though my writing time has diminished, I’ve learned to knit and the fun thing is that knitting yarn into scarves is (ALMOST) as much fun as knitting words into stories. The other good thing about knitting yarn is that I am able to pray more deeply than when I’m struggling with characters who get into mishaps and plots that take surprising twists and turns.

While sitting in the waiting room at our local hospital this morning, I met delightful new people and turned strangers into friends. As we visited, we agreed that saying “Merry Christmas” is our right. We also decided that when others offer a flip “Happy Holidays,” we who cherish the birth of our Lord can smile and say, “And Happy Holy Days to you.”

When I got home, feeling warm and blessed, I decided to quickly push aside the dust from this blog and pull out last year’s Advent devotions.

Don’t get too fooled because I might write something new now and then but in the meantime, if any of these words bring joy to your heart or help you through a difficult day or show Jesus to you in a sweet way then I will be blessed.

Stay in touch!

Merry Christmas,

Liz

         

“Advent Minutes with Liz” – Copyright @2008 Liz Hoyt Eberle

I will be thrilled and honored to authorize use of my work for

the personal use of my readers. Please include copyright information and

contact me at eberle2@yahoo.comfor permission to share this material.

1. December??? Already????

Suppressing a shudder, I look at the kitchen calendar. November is finished. I want to keep November.

Alas. It has to go. Maybe the next month will be … June?

No. December is next in line.

But, December is cold.

And, December can steal my soul.

No matter. December is here.

    I pour another cup of coffee and crumple at the kitchen table. I know the kids are already excited. I know I should feel some joy – somewhere. After all, it is my Lord’s birthday.

I don’t have  joy. I don’t have time. I just have tired. Choking back tears, I look at the church calendar. It’s full- - practices for Children’s Night; caroling to the shut-ins; the Bible study Christmas Party; regular worship on Sundays and special services on Wednesdays.

I peek at our family calendar. It’s stuffed- -  Christmas parties at school; my husband’s office party- yikes, at our house this year; our neighborhood party; the arrival of my in-laws.

I’m the one to shop, wrap and mail gifts, address cards, decorate, and BAKE.

I groan remembering last Sunday when Pastor stood there and told us we should have family devotions every night during the Christmas Season! He said we should prepare our hearts for the coming of our Savior. He said we should rejoice and be glad. Who? Me? I can’t even cope!

I look at the calendar again and through my tears I see the Scripture for today: “Be still, and know that I am God.”

I wipe my eyes. My coffee is cold. Be still.

Maybe… maybe I can do this – one, tiny step at a time.

I do want to greet my Lord with real joy on Christmas morning. I do want Him to find me ready. I do want to prepare my soul. I do want to show my children who Jesus IS.

I will make time each day to dwell with God so that I can celebrate, with true joy, His Son’s advent to earth.

   

Thank you, Father, for hearing my call.

I will be still and know that YOU are God.

You will be honored in my life.

You will be honored in my home.

From Psalm 46:10 (NLT)

2. Yesterday’s Advent

   I know, I know. The point of Advent is to look ahead, to plan, and to prepare for the arrival of Jesus. And I will. I promise. But, during worship today, a toddler fussed and my heart looked back. With a smile.

When my two kids were young, for three years six kids sat in our family pew at church. We were a foster family so four of the kids changed often but our two birth children hung in there and remained for the long haul! Hey, I was young, eager to nurture, and thought I could handle anything. I found that becoming a foster parent was much like the first-time pregnancy: you are blissfully unaware of the pain, horror, and screams that follow. Then, like a mother eagerly getting pregnant over and over again, every time the caseworker calls with another abused child in need of love and safety, a foster mom just finds an empty bed and sets another plate at the table.

It was the 1970’s and foster parents could not adopt the kids they protected and loved. But, a foster parent could raise kids in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. We took every opportunity to show Jesus to “our kids.”

Every week, all of us went to church together. Back then, only the “Crib Set” was entitled to church nursery luxuries so kids and parents sat- or wiggled- in worship services together. Every year, the Sunday school put on a Christmas Pageant and our new Patricia came home from her first practice in tears, incensed that the innkeeper would not let Jesus’ mother come in from the cold. Long talks ensued until she made her own peace with the innkeeper. She said, “I’m glad you made room for me, Mama.”

While our lives were hectic and chaotic, we strictly enforced bedtime rituals. We prayed together as a family then each child was tucked in with special parent time and additional prayer when needed, which was often. During Advent, our evenings included time for devotion around the wreath with candles and scripture readings. The year Charlie came, we celebrated his second birthday in November so when Advent arrived, the candles never remained burning. As soon as one child lit the Advent candles, Charlie took that as his cue to blow them out.

 Over three years, Barbara stopped hoarding food, Bethany started talking, Leonard didn’t lie as much, and Patricia tried not to cuss like a sailor. We helped eleven children hope for a safe tomorrow and to trust adults─a little. We fed their souls, their minds, and their bodies. Gradually, the screams in the night subsided and daytime laughter erupted more often. They bonded with our children, other fosters, and with their schoolmates and then we helped them leave us, for better places… we hoped.

No, I don’t know what happened to most of them and yes, I wished laws had been different. It took many years for me to accept that God gave me a job to do and that I did it the best I could.

So, this morning, the “joyful noise” of a fretful toddler in worship service was music to my ears… but I easily left yesterday behind with its bittersweet memories and unanswered questions. I quickly turned my white hair and my heart back to the present wondering if He will have other assignments for me.

Of course, He may want me to simply sit still and be quiet. Even so, my heart sings because Jesus is here and He IS coming again!

And in the meantime, He instructed and promised...

 ...go.. make disciples..baptize..teach..and

I am with you always.

 from Matthew 28:19-20

3. Closed for Christmas

 

    My husband and I spent Thanksgiving alone this year so I decided on a “why bother”   routine for Christmas. At our age, who needs all the hustle, bustle, hurry-up and wait, glitzy, and phony stuff Christmas brings. To say nothing of dragging out dusty boxes of lights and decorations.

All the kids in our large blended family have homes of their own plus other extended family. Goodness, our family has multiplied until we can’t keep up with everybody. I suppose that's the good, natural ebb and flow of life but, none of them will be home. Since it’s just dad and me and Christmas is for children, seems we should just forget it.

That was my general frame of mind the weekend after Thanksgiving.

To make my self-imposed pity-party worse, I picked up some of our old Christmas photo albums. Tears fell for real as I looked at pictures of the happy days when the house was full of growing kids. They were such cute kids and adorable teenagers, then spouses came along, and finally, joy of joys, we got grandkids!

I pushed the album aside, grabbed a handful of tissues, flipped on the television, and the album dropped to the floor. It fell open to the year I was really alone! A single mom with two junior high kids and my own mother had died the year before. We lived hours from other family and I couldn’t afford to take time off from work to travel anyway. The sweet memory of my gratitude on that Thanksgiving flooded back. God had been faithful to provide a good school for my kids, we had found a great church family, and my new job with a service organization helped my self-esteem after the divorce and actually paid our bills. At Thanksgiving, the kids and I went to church and then had an ordinary meal alone. I remembered how we talked about God’s goodness to us, and our decision that Christmas would be different.

We decorated the house and as much of the outside as my limitations with stepladders and duct tape would allow. The kids amazed me by limiting their “want lists” and actually stuck to their budgets. Then we sen invitations to six elderly people in our church asking them to share Christmas Day dinner with us. They came, the turkey was delicious, and our home echoed with laughter. After dinner, all of us sang Christmas carols and we listened to their stories. Both the kids and I learned a lot that year. They’ve often said it was their best Christmas ever.

I turned off the TV and rushed to the workshop to find my husband. We were two days behind our decorating schedule for Christmas. I’ve quickly counted about eight friends who will NOT be alone on Christmas this year!

  Then the King will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth

 Whenever you did one of these things to someone

overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me.

 Matthew 25:40 (The Message)

Thank you, Father, for using old memories to remind me that

Christmas is about You, not about me!

4. Interruptions

     Ribbon and shinny paper cluttered the kitchen table. Through the house was a trail of tinsel, snowmen, scissors, tape, and recipes and the breakfast dishes were still on the counter. No matter! I was busy, knocking out “to-do” items like crazy. I was on track!

Then the phone rang.

Katie was crying. I looked at my watch. Minutes ... ticking... Well, yes, she’s my best friend; yes she’s having a hard time since that louse of a husband left her and three kids this summer. Tick.. tick... But, she wants to talk and ... I don’t have time!

“Sure Katie, come on over.” Wondering where those words came from, I gritted my teeth and shoved dirty dishes into the dishwasher. I don’t have time!!

Katie rang the doorbell just as the coffee finished brewing. Rushing to the door, I almost knocked over the nativity on the hall table. As I opened the door, I glanced at the cross above Baby Jesus.

“Hi, Katie.” She fell into my arms. 

 

God did not ask me to give birth to a child- in disgrace. He did not ask me to ride on a donkey over miles of rough, rocky roads at the end of a pregnancy. He did not ask me to escape through the night to save the life of my child. He did not ask me to stand at the foot of a cross to watch my son die.

He just asked me to give a little time. He asked me to comfort my friend.

 

  “Guess what, Katie! The coffee’s ready and I’ve got Christmas cookies. I’m glad to see you.”

 

 Christmas is about tending to my Father’s business.

“Do you love Me?... Then…tend my lambs…shepherd My sheep.”

(From John 21: 15-17)

5. Guard My Mouth!

 I was in line at the Christian bookstore-buying Christmas presents-when I overheard a woman fussing about her minister! Her bitter words cut into my heart. I turned to tell her off and the sign behind the counter caught my eye. The big red letters yelled,“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!  Psalm 133:1”

I closed my mouth- quickly. And firmly; I paid my bill and left the store as fast as I could. She was wrong, but keeping my own mouth shut is not one of my virtues!

Driving home, I tried to ponder the woman’s words but my own words from the last few days clanged so loudly in my memory, I couldn’t remember her words.

Only that morning, I had been cranky with my children, because I had overslept. I didn’t hug my husband when he left for work because he didn’t help me fix things. I scolded my mother when she forgot to pick up her own prescriptions at the pharmacy. I even snapped at our church secretary over a silly mistake. I had fussed a lot lately. I had not practiced unity. I had created strife.

Somehow, I suspect that being rushed and tired are NOT excuses.

So am I responsible for the whole world’s grumpiness? Do I have to fix everything and everybody?

No, but the bumper sticker on my car says, “We Say Merry Christmas.”

At home, I rested for a while in my Lord’s presence.

Later, when I dropped Mom’s prescriptions off, I took time for a cup of tea with her. After supper, I called the family together. We gathered around the Advent wreath, held hands, and talked about our day.

Tomorrow, I’ll take some Christmas cookies to the church secretary. 

 

I guess I’ll learn to live Christmas every day…… one problem at a time.

 “... I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient,

bearing with one another in love.

Make every effort to keep the unity.”

Ephesians 4: 1-3

6. The Christmas Card

                                 

There’s still time…..

No, it’s too late!

Well, if I don’t write a note in each ….

Absolutely not, postage is much too expensive! 

 

    I have the same argument with myself every year, but this is absolutely the year I stop.

I will NOT send Christmas cards. It is a useless waste of my time and our money!

    I’ll… well, I’ll just send an extra donation to the Salvation Army where money really does some good.

 

    “Hi, Honey, mail came. Look who we heard from,” my husband called from the front hall. “I thought Sam had died but he actually survived a second heart surgery and might get remarried this spring.”

    I did not need to know that. My resolve cracked.

    “Funny.” Carl poured a cup of coffee. “I prayed for Sam all last year, not knowing whether he made it or not but something urged me on. Isn’t it great to know?”

    “Well, yes,” I said, “but don’t you think….” I didn't have his attention. He was back in Viet Nam with his buddies… remembering. Sam saved my husband’s life when the grenade landed too close. Later, Carl led Sam to Christ. They stayed in touch all these years… through Christmas cards.

    After supper, our son stopped by to help with the Christmas tree lights. When the old, artificial tree sprang to life once again, Carl insisted Bud stay for devotions.

    “Do you guys still do the Advent candle thing? Martha tries to… when I get home early enough.”

    “Well, you’re already late,” Carl struck a match, “few more minutes won’t bother.”

    In the glow of candlelight, Carl’s eyes glistened. My husband, the quiet guy, the leader, the “John Wayne” to our kids, seemed… undone.

    “You know, Son, life is hard sometimes. How are things? Are you going to church?”

    “Well, uh, sure, Dad.” Bud’s surprise matched my own.

    “No, I mean, do you go with Martha and the kids? Do you help her get ready? She’s a fine wife, Son. Let’s pray.”

The logs crackling in the fireplace emphasized my husband’s words to the Lord of his life. Carl gave thanks for his old friend, Sam, then he prayed for our children and he prayed for me.

After Carl’s almost curt ‘amen,’ he got up and stoked the fire. Bud had his head in his hands and didn’t move. I decided my place was in the kitchen.

    It was late when Carl came to bed. “How did you know they were having trouble?” I asked.

    “I didn’t.” My husband-of-few-words sat on the side of the bed a long time. “I guess just thinking about Sam. After he got saved, he didn’t like the “church thing.” It hurt his wife real deep. She died ‘bout five years ago. I never knew if they worked it out.” He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders. “I think Bud and Martha will be fine.”

Drifting to sleep I thought, Hearing from old friends is a very good thing .

 

 

 

According to Paul, the Apostle:

And let us not lose heart in doing good…..

See with what large letters I am writing

 to you with my own hand.

From Galatians 6: 9 & 11

7. The Color Purple

   It’s been a long week. I scurried around playing “catch-up” because the Common Cold caught me the week before Thanksgiving. Hit me hard and laid me flat. Even though I bounced back, I’ve been a week behind for two weeks.

Even in praying.

This week I had extra cleaning to do in preparation for Christmas, along with all my other busy stuff. Invariably, I stayed up too late every night and had to hit the floor running the next morning.

But, I did listen to Christian music and preaching on the radio while I ran errands and occasionally I discussed some pretty important things with the Lord as I swept the porch, loaded the dishwasher, and folded clothes. Even though there is so much to do in preparation for His birthday, I took time to be in church for the first Sunday in Advent, I went to my Bible class on Monday, and to Advent service on Wednesday!!

The week finally ended with an exhausted me. As I closed up the house in a rush to get to bed, I noticed the Advent Wreath. For some reason, in the quiet of the night, I stopped to light again the first candle. As it began to glow, I thought about Advent. The candle is a symbol for the first of four weeks we spend preparing to celebrate again the birth of Jesus the Christ. The color purple represents repentance and longing.

The small ritual calmed me and I remembered that all my fuss and work is not important. The season is about God’s eternal love. “Advent” is a time to remember the incredible miracle of God becoming man and His perfect love.

  I bowed my heart in repentance for pushing the God of my life aside. I prayed for His grace and His mercy. I spent time…. Just being with my Lord.

 

“... Let us then approach the throne of grace

with confidence, so that we may receive mercy

 and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

Hebrews 4:16

8. The Perfect Gift

Welcome to the 2^nd week of

 "Advent Minutes with Liz"

Greetings on this first day of the second week of Advent.

Writing these stories helps me to pause, reflect, and remember that glorious day when the Creator of all that is became man and how the angels shouted the news to the world. And then as I sing Glory Hallelujah, I say “Thank You, Father,” because the miracle of that wondrous night was just the first step to the cross and to Easter morning.

I am just one of God’s wayward children and He loved me enough to give me that perfect Gift. I hope you have received His amazing love, also.

I’ll be here again this week with more thoughts from my heart. I hope you will join me for a few minutes each day to re-focus our thoughts on Christ our King.

Please be blessed with my gift to you during Advent, 2008.

     Liz

On this first day of the week, let’s focus on the words that Jesus himself spoke to Nicodemus:

 

“For God so loved the world, that He

gave His only begotten Son, that whosever

believes in Him should not perish,

but have eternal life.”

John 3:16

 

 

 

9. Getting Ready

 

Just as the twins fell asleep, the baby cried. The clock read four a.m. With baby aspirin in hand, Anne groped her way down the hall. Everybody needs me. My head is pounding! I’m so tired. And nobody cares.

While she rocked her baby, hot with fever, snippets from last Sunday’s sermon floated around her mind. It had to do with something about greeting Christmas with joy.

Yeah, sure! Anne rocked faster; the baby fretted.

“Shhhh. Mommy’s here.”

Anne slowed the rocker but her thoughts swirled as tears streamed down her face. The tree is only half decorated, the kids are sick and Dan will be out of town at his meeting all week. There’s nobody to understand or care!

She pulled Danny closer, smoothing wet ringlets of hair framing his baby face. When the fever finally broke, she settled him in the crib and leaned against the window listening to his breathing before going back to her own bed.

“Oh, look at the lights!” She quickly covered her mouth and smiled at herself for talking out loud. The multi-colored lights on the cedar tree in the yard twinkled at her. Dan must have put the lights up yesterday before his flight when she was too busy with sick kids to notice.

Anne pulled her robe around her shivering body and tiptoed down the hall. It was almost dawn, so instead of going to bed, she made coffee and settled on the couch with her Bible.

I’m really not alone, am I, Father? This day is going to be long, but I will trust You. I’m so glad You care….

The twins barreled into the room before Anne finished her prayer.

“Morning, guys!” She scooped them up for hugs and even managed a laugh. “Let’s go get Danny and have breakfast!”

 

 

He gives strength to the weary and increases

the power of the weak. … but those who hope

in the LORD will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint.

From Isaiah 40: 28-31