Giving it my all

The other day I was praying and told God, "I'd do anything for you!" As I said it, I remembered Peter making a similar declaration at the Last Supper and Jesus saying, "Will you?" and then predicting that Peter would deny Jesus three times that night before the rooster crowed. 

As I reread the passage about it, I wondered if Jesus wanted to tell Peter, "Tonight, you don't have to give your all. You just have to say you know me." Tradition tells us that later Peter died for the sake of Christ and was crucified upside down because he didn't consider himself worthy to be killed in the same manner as Jesus. Peter did have to give it all one day. Just not the night of the Last Supper. 

Earlier that night at the Last Supper, Jesus washes the disciples' feet and as He gets to Peter, Peter again asks for more. "Wash my whole body then if you must!" But Jesus tells Peter for someone who has already been washed, they only need to get their feet cleaned. It's enough. You don't have to do it all. Just what Jesus leads you to. 

My desire to give my all for Jesus I think is good. Certainly, He says that if anyone wants to be His disciple he has to deny himself, take up his cross and follow Jesus. It's just that day-to-day, that "giving-it-all" might be giving something very small. My time. My attention. My affection. Today, I may not need to make a big declaration but instead ask Jesus for His help to in small ways and big to keep following Him. 

Christmas Cheer!

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”  - Buddy (the Elf)

Christmas cheer is a special type of happiness. It’s something that exists only during this season. It lives in holiday drinks at Starbucks and holly, jolly Christmas songs. And as we gather together with family and friends, eat amazing food, and exchange presents, Christmas cheer fills up our homes.

Advent, however, is a season of waiting.  It’s a time where we intentionally practice waiting for Christ to come back and to bring light to the dark places of our lives and our world. Christmas cheer and advent don’t always seem like the most natural partners.

In the story of blind Bartimaeus (Mark 10:46-52), Jesus was leaving Jericho when a blind beggar named Bartimaeus cried out to Him, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Over and over again he yelled for mercy and for healing. The crowds who were there, however, were annoyed by this blind beggar (as many of us might be) and told him to be quiet. But Jesus responded differently. He stopped and called Bartimaeus to come to Him.  The crowd, which seconds before had tried to silence Bartimaeus, now said, “Cheer up! On your feet. He is calling for you.” At the news of Jesus’ invitation, Bartimaeus threw off his cloak, ran to Jesus, and received the healing he so desperately wanted.

Cheer for Bartimaeus didn’t come in the form of peppermint lattes or gingerbread men (although they are delicious). Cheer came because Jesus was calling him. Jesus heard Bartimaeus’ cry for mercy and He invited him to come. What better reason for cheer than to be called by Jesus?

This Christmas, there are a couple of specific areas in my life and in the lives of my family and friends where I’m waiting for God to intervene and calling out to Him for mercy. As I wait on Him, I know He is calling me to himself. And it’s almost as if I can hear a crowd of people urging me on saying, “Cheer up, Mary Katherine. On your feet! He is calling you.”  Christ is calling me to trust Him more, to live in hope that He is coming again, and to be set free from selfishness and pride in my life.  How is calling you this season?

I hope you will wait with me this Christmas (waiting is so much easier when you do it with people you love). And I hope you will hear Christ calling you, and that you experience the true Christmas cheer of knowing Him. 

Pulling an MK

For my first real job out of college, I worked at a high-paced business software company. The hustle of working in the corporate world overwhelmed me at first and the pace of the office whirled by me much faster than any of my previous jobs (I had been making copies of cassette tapes for a radio ministry in college, so I guess the fact that the corporate world was faster paced than my past experience should not have been a surprise). I reported to five different bosses with lots of individual needs. I sent out 100s of emails a day and received twice as many back. There were constant interruptions. Everyone I worked with excelled at multi-tasking. And I eventually I got really good at it too. I became focused. I was efficient. And I took pride in my productivity.

I now work at a church and at busy times it is easy for me to slip back into a highly focused and efficient mode of working. Some of my friends at church reference this phenomenon as pulling an MK (that’s me!). I get focused on the tasks at hand to finish (getting ready for a retreat or a big banquet) and sometimes I’m seen as “all business” and very little fun. I still love getting stuff done and checking work off my to-do list but my fear is that during those times, I become so focused on the task at hand that I rush by people and their real needs. I wonder in my dash of efficiency and productivity if I miss out on things that are really important.

As we began Lent yesterday, it is easy to “pull an MK” and get distracted by all the tasks that we could do during these next forty days. In fact, most of the time when we talk about Lent, we focus on the things we will give up. How long do we have to fast for? What we will indulge in right before the fast begins and what we will enjoy right after the fast ends? These questions come up as we start Lent this week. Yet, if we spend the next forty days thinking only about what we are giving up, we will miss out on the goodness of the season. If we “pull an MK” and rush to be efficient and productive in this season, we will miss the wonder of seeing Christ.

“’Even now,’ declares the Lord, ‘return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.’ Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.” Joel 2:12-13

During Lent, we are not invited to return to sacrifice, to return to ritual, or even to return to church. It’s a time to return to God with our whole selves. God is not asking us to mark off the next forty days of our life as if in a prison cell of no chocolate and caffeine. It is our hearts and not our sacrifice that He desires. It is us, and not the tasks we complete that He wants. And the things that He leads us to give up (or add) during this time are not the goal of Lent. Christ is the goal. We follow His leading of sacrifice in order to see Him more clearly. To experience His grace and His compassion. And to encounter our God who is slow to anger (not rushing around trying to break us of our bad habits) and abounding in love. In Lent we return to God with all that we have and we find in Christ everything. So as I meet and challenge my own desire to "pull an MK" this Lent, I pray for all of us that in the midst of this season we will return to God with our whole hearts and see Christ.

Dreaming small

I love to dream. Once during my senior year of college I dreamed I created an amazing final project for my oceanography class full of pertinent information, colors, and 3-D images. The dream was so great and so affirming that I was only slightly disappointed when I woke up to the reality of the mediocre project I completed on a white posterboard from Jewel Osco.

Another recurring dream I have involves eating nachos in bed. That’s the dream…I eat nachos in bed and it is wonderful. 

My dreams are usually small. Only occasionally will I have a grand dream at night.  Something that takes me on an adventure through space and time. Where I wake up sure that I’ve just been in the midst of an ethereal experience and equally certain of the reality of what I just dreamt. Those are great nights and ones I wish I could duplicate. But normally my dreams are small.

I’m ok with that. I do dream pretty small when I’m in charge of my imagination. I daydream about concrete realities like jobs and relationships and food. When I think of how my life might go, I always end up feeling like my dreams just might be too small for the reality that awaits me.

This is why I entrust my heart, my hopes, and my small dreams to the one person who creates grand, big, and epic realities. God dreams big. He dreams of peace in places where there is unrest. He dreams of freedom where there is slavery. For me, He dreams of something I don't yet know. But I am sure His dreams for my life go beyond what I could possibly imagine. They venture past the concrete into the miraculous.

At Advent when we dream of things like white Christmases and sugarplums, I love to think about the big plans God dreams for us this next year. His ideas that have yet to unfold. The days that He will ordain. The good works He plans for us to do. And the surprises He waits to bestow.

I don’t know what any of those dreams might be for you and much less for me. So, I entrust them to Him. And I’ll keep dreaming small until the day when I’ll wake up to the biggest dream of my life–Jesus, face-to-face. When I’ll take an adventure through time and space and awaken to an ethereal reality that puts my grandest dreams to shame. I dream you’re standing next to me on that day and that this Advent season you see God’s dreams come true in your life. In big ways and small ways.  

Entering into the Wilderness

This blog post is late. I know. It’s been my intention this season to publish a post on each Sunday of Advent. God prompted me to do this and I relied on Him to provide the content and wording. And He has. The posts came naturally and they were a delight to write. So, I expected this week to be no different. I felt confident that God would lead me to share exactly what I needed to at the right time. That was Monday of last week. And then Tuesday came and Wednesday and surprisingly Thursday, Friday and Saturday followed immediately after. And nothing. I had no significant thoughts and certainly nothing that inspired me for this post.

Except for one annoying thing.

Separate from my blog posts, I’m also reading different advent devotionals in order to spend this season intentionally waiting on God. Now, as I’ve shared before, waiting really has become a way of life for me–a way to worship. Yet there are times when my waiting is filled with celebration and joy and there are times where God has led me straight through deserts of grief during my waiting. I’ll let you imagine which times I prefer.

This week, I read a devotional about how God leads us into wilderness areas of our lives-places that are barren spiritually and need cultivation. The reading encouraged us to follow God into those desert areas and find in them Christ’s presence, hope, and restoration. As I finished reading the short devotional, my only thought and prayer was that I wanted to avoid this wilderness for right now. Like others, I've traveled through spiritual wildernesses before and they are unpleasant, treacherous, and sometimes gut wrenching. I didn’t feel strong enough emotionally to enter into the barren places of my life. I felt overwhelmed at the idea that there was more to learn in the desert right now (I was secretly hoping for some mountaintop time with the Lord). It always costs to enter into the wilderness places of our lives. It requires letting go of things that are important to us and finding life in the presence of God. I know some of what the wilderness requires. You probably do too. And this week it was hard for me to want to enter into that.

Isaiah 35:1-4 says that one day, “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; 
like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing...Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, fear not!...He will come and save you.’

He will come. This week when I longed not to go through the wilderness, when I felt like the promise of God was too far for me to reach, and when I was overwhelmed by the thought of time in a spiritual desert, I was reminded that God comes to me. I do not need to reach Him. I do not need to be strong enough to go to Him. He reaches me. He comes to me. He is the God who comes to us - in the wilderness and on the mountain. God walked with Adam and Eve. He showed Moses His glory. He spoke to Jeremiah. Christ came to us in Bethlehem. And He will keep on coming to you and me until we are with Him face to face.

As God comes to us and we spend time in His presence, He works in the wilderness of our lives bringing rejoicing, blossoming, and awesome crocuses (croci?). In His presence is the fullness of joy and whether I go through the wilderness or stand on a mountain with God, I know I want to be with Him. So with my feeble knees and weak hands, I open myself up to His leading into the barren places of my life. I trust Him to guide me tenderly through the wilderness and I’m grateful that He responds gently to my cries for another way. This season, I’m praying that God leads us to the exact places where we can most experience His life and find true joy. 

Longing for More

I’m dreaming of a White Christmas. I’ll be Home for Christmas. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. The best Christmas songs are all about longing. Longing for snow, for home, for togetherness and for magic.

Christmas makes us feel like something magical can happen. Like if we just attended the perfect Christmas party or caught the right train, then we would meet the person of our dreams and find the funding for that cute little pie shop we long to open. Not to mention the fact that movies like Love Actually and White Christmas show us that a delightfully choreographed song and dance number is all that’s needed to fix our relationship problems (I’ve prepared something for the occasion, just in case that turns out to be true).

I long for the magic of Christmas in my life.

I haven’t always wanted to reveal my areas of longing to others. I am a private person (as evidenced by the fact that I wrote a blog for a year without sharing it with friends and family). Also, I don’t want to appear discontented with my life. I am so grateful for where God has me right now - working at an awesome church with amazing students, part of a supportive family who loves me, and hanging out with the best friends in the world.

More than my privacy issues and not wanting to appear discontented, I also know that sometimes my longing embarrasses me. My practicality seems to fight directly with my longing for dreams that are God-filled and miraculous. It feels foolish to admit that you want something you may never get. And I find myself vulnerable confessing year after year to people and to myself that I hope for things that haven’t yet materialized.

But the reality is I still long. I long for Christ. I feel pangs of loneliness. I ache for my friends and family to experience the life God offers. I cry out for healing for those closest to me. I anticipate and yes, long, to make a greater impact in this world. I am unsatisfied with the selfishness that infiltrates my life and I want to move beyond it. I long for more.

Advent is a time when we are invited to long for more. As we feel our longing for Christ increase during this season, our senses heighten to the reality of His presence in our lives. And as we walk in step with Him, we wake up to our deepest desire…Christ. When we long for Christ and for His best in our lives, we enter into longing that is not discontentment and that flies in the face of keeping our lives private. Our longings in life direct us to God and lead us to live honestly and vulnerably in front of Him and others. Allowing God to guide us in our longing also frees us up to experience His unexpected answers to our desires. We open our eyes to see God move us. And His work in our life answers our longings in the best way possible–by making us into the men and women he longs for us to be.  

Our longing for Christ also puts us right in the middle of the Christmas story. When Christ was born, people were longing for Him too. For Messiah. For salvation. For freedom. They longed for Him to come. And even though the reality may not have been what they expected, He did come. And He is coming again.

At Christmas time, there is magic in the air. As we long for Christ, we live in the magic of longing for the One who can actually make the impossible happen. We long for Him who can free us, heal us, and make us whole. This Christmas, I’m praying that we open ourselves up to God’s leading. That we walk honestly and vulnerably before Him with our longings. I’m also praying boldly this Christmas that God answers the deepest longings of our heart. And that we have eyes to see the unexpected ways He leads us into His best for our life.

Learning to Love the Wait

Waiting for Christmas Eve night proved challenging for my brothers, sister and I when we were growing up. My family always opened presents on Christmas Eve and my mom and dad allowed us on this one night to stay up as late as necessary until all the gifts had been unwrapped one by one. The night was full of magic and warmth and we couldn’t wait for it to get to us. So, every year during the day on Christmas Eve, I caught myself checking the clock, trying to busy myself, and generally just wishing the minutes and hours would speed up so that Christmas Eve night would finally arrive.

One year, in order to hurry the day, my older brother and I brilliantly planned to schedule out each minute of Christmas Eve leading up to the very moment when we would open presents. We mapped out time playing inside and outside. We added in food and bathroom breaks. The whole day was full of time together. And before I knew it, Christmas Eve night was there and our presents were ready to be opened. We didn’t feel the anxiousness of waiting that had marked so many years before. That day, I loved the wait because the day was full of adventure with someone I loved.

Through no design of my own, I’ve caught myself waiting on God more frequently during the past couple of years of my life - sometimes unintentionally, freely and innocently, and other times with tears and pleading. Although the waiting is not always what I expect or desire, God has allowed me to become more of the woman He wants me to be in the midst of it.  As I wait on Him, I gain the deepest desire of my heart…..Christ. I get to spend my days with the one I love the most and in Him I find the adventure that I seek.  In the waiting, I trust Him more.  I rest in His timing. I lean into His grace. And I see His goodness. Because Christ is with me, I am learning to love the wait. Many people have told me that waiting on God could be preparation for what He has planned for me in the future. I know that is true. However, waiting has become so much more to me than that. Waiting on God has become life itself. It is in the waiting that I find Christ and He is life.  

During this time of Advent, we turn our hearts together to waiting on the Lord. We remember and celebrate that He came once and we look forward with anticipation to His coming again. He was born as Emmanuel, God with us, and it is the reality of this name that makes the waiting on Him now something to love. He is with us. And His presence gives life to the waiting.

So I pray for you, my friends and family, and myself who are waiting….

Waiting for healing....

     Waiting for a job...

          Waiting to graduate...

               Waiting to get married or have a baby...

                    Waiting for life to get better or waiting for life to begin

I pray that in the waiting you find Christ. That He leads you into days full of adventure together. And that we learn to love the wait because He is with us.