Lisa Hetzel

I have been too serious lately.  I didn’t even notice it until someone told a funny joke.  My face felt funny as I laughed. Really, my smile felt foreign. 

I had been walking around, going through my routines, without even cracking a smile.  I probably looked like Eyeore from Winne the Pooh.  I can just replay the scene in my mind.  “Oh well, “  I would moan.  “I guess I should be thankful that my house isn’t flooded.  Sure did seem like a lot of water, though.”

 So, I stepped over to the mirror and looked.  Yikes!  I wonder if I even smiled today.   It wasn’t as if things were all that bad. It was just that I had become busy, crossing tasks off my “to do” list.  I hadn’t even taken time to enjoy my kindergartners’ giggles or the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

Goodness gracious.  How in the world can I communicate my love for Jesus if I go around complaining?  How can I feel God’s presence when I focus more on my  “to-do” list and forget who I’m created “to be?”

I’m going to go check out one of those Junie B. Jones books from the library.  This afternoon, I’m going to take some time out to laugh.  Who knows? Maybe, I’ll even laugh out loud.

“In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” (Matt 5:16 NIV)

I never really learned to drive a stick shift. Well, my big brother tried to teach me once, but that was pretty much a disaster. I don’t remember any luxurious interior in Dan’s tangerine colored Ford Fiesta, but my stomach tightens and my mouth gets a little dry when I reminisce. Dan had shown me what each pedal did, how the clutch worked and how to change gears. We had practiced by isolating the two: I took care of the clutch while he shifted. Then we got out of the car and reversed roles. Now came the real test. Could I do all of it by myself? Confused, but too proud to admit the truth, I nodded.

Sure, I was ready to venture down our hill. Ease up on the brake. This thing is in neutral. No problem, all that I have to do is move that stick and mash those pedals.

Not quite a NASA launch, I pressed one thing and pushed something else. A wretched sound generously broadcast its way through the neighborhood. Vibrations climbed from the floorboard. I’m sure that a crowd gathered. Our car hadn’t even moved. Calm quickly flew into panic. As soon as Dan could take over the controls, I hopped out, never to try again. To this day, he still jokes about how I almost ruined his transmission trying to shift out of neutral. My only defense is that I told him that I don’t understand anything about gears and gadgets. I’m still trying to figure out how to operate my ten speed bike.

It made me wonder. How many times do I get stuck in my life? How many times have I tried to make something work my way? When it didn’t go well, how often did I quit? I’m sure that I have missed many opportunities.

Maybe before I jump on the next journey and claim that I’m following God’s will, I need to be still and listen. I’m sure that if I did, I’d be able to steer.

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” (Joh 10:27 NIV, NAB)

There was no air conditioning in the gym that night.  The school sponsored polyester white graduation cap and gown felt like a poorly fitted Halloween costume with its own built in sauna.  My chair was squeaky, my shoes were tight and it took forever to hear my name. 

But none of that mattered as I walked across the stage to accept my diploma.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my parents’ smiles.  When the ceremony was over, I couldn’t wait to see them.  Mom and Dad wrapped me in hugs. “Great job, we’re so proud of you….this is such a big day,” they gushed.

 In one of Jesus’ parables, four servants were given talents, but only one servant pleased his master.

“Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”  (Matt 24:21 NIV, NAB)

Someday, I will hear my name called again. As I stand before God, my creator, what will he say to me?

Dear God,

You are so holy.  Sometimes, it seems impossible to serve you without failing.  Thank you for sending your precious son, Jesus Christ.  Please keep teaching me how to walk closely with you.

As the blustery winds pushed me through the doorway, I caught my breath. My inside- out umbrella made me chuckle as I thought of another windy day.

My husband, seven year old son and I were all strapped together on the edge of a speedboat zooming over 50 miles per hour. As the rope and sails hoisted us up 700 feet above the Atlantic, we saw the endless ocean. It was so beautiful. Then I looked down at the skipper and his mate. I felt a huge lump in my throat as I realized that we didn’t know too much about this “dynamic duo.” They looked so young. I couldn’t believe that we had put our life in their hands. We were literally flying by the seat of our pants.

Of course, the worrywart self that I am, I calmed down just long enough to enjoy the view and make it back to the boat (and yes, I did kiss the ground).

Whoops, how many times have I just gone ahead and done something in good faith and then found myself in a predicament? What if I had taken time to pray, research and reflect on more of my big decisions? What if instead of a quick prayer to consult God, I patiently waited for his response? Would I enjoy more peace and less fear? Was I ready to move into a deeper, more trusting, relationship with the Lord?

Sometimes it’s so hard to trust a God that I can’t see. I get tired from this whole thing that we call life. Once in a while, it even feels as though I’m flying solo.

It’s a good thing that faith doesn’t rely on fluctuating feelings. God is still God. He is always with me.

Ps 31:14 “(But) I trust in you, O Lord; I say, You are my God.”

      Back in the olden days (okay, the 70s), we would spend afternoons playing kickball, hide-and-go-seek and Red Rover in each other’s backyards. Occasionally, someone would argue that something was unfair. Heated arguments would reach ear piercing levels until someone would cave in and declare, “Okay, it’s a Do over!”
     Surrender to this option would satisfy both teams, keep everyone accountable and allow the game to continue. I need to “do over” parts of my own life. Instead of making new resolutions, I’m going to re-examine my attempts at last year’s: listen well, be part of the solution, and  celebrate the joy in each day.
     I have to admit that I haven’t made as much progress as I could have. Too often, I didn’t give people time to really speak before starting to come up with my own response. Sometimes, when divisive words were said, I remained silent. I even ignored the beauty right in front of my eyes.
     I’m left with the option of improving last year’s list or throwing them out and starting all over. As I think about it, my morning devotional directs my choice:

“Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” (Col 3: 13 NIV)

Did your calendar come with preprinted holidays? Mine did. When I flipped it to December, I came across an unfamiliar event: December 26, Boxing Day. A little digging and I discovered that it has nothing to do with the sport of boxing. It’s all about giving.

Here’s what I found in an internet resource called Wikipedia: “Boxing Day is a public holiday in the United Kingdom, Canada, New Zealand and Australia and countries in the Commonwealth of Nations with a mainly Christian population. It is based on the tradition of giving gifts to the less fortunate members of society.”

What a neat idea. I know. It sounds just like what we have been doing this past month. Giving trees, canned food barrels and clothing drives have graced our community. I didn’t think that I had anything else to give until this morning, when I heard myself saying, “I don’t know where to put all of this stuff.” My son wasn’t sure that new inventory of toys would fit on his shelves. Later, when I reached for a towel in our linen closet, I was greeted by an avalanche of blankets. Hmmmm….Maybe I could look one more time to see if there’s anything to give.

We live in a land of abundance. Even during these uncertain times, many of us have plenty of stuff and then some. Poverty is not seasonal. It’s a continual need. I’m going to let Boxing Day kick off a new tradition. Each time that I receive a gift or treat, I’m going to see if there’s something that I can donate.

“Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Cor 9:7 NIV)

Lord, thank you for the countless blessings that you’ve bestowed. Teach me how to have a generous heart like yours.

Did you ever mix finger paint together when you were a child? The smooth, slippery concoction would evolve into a beautiful surprise. Brilliant blobs of blues would reach into ruby colored splotches. Swirling them wholeheartedly would reveal unbelievable hues of violet. It was so much fun!

This season, the rubies and emeralds have wrapped our banisters, doorways and dining room centerpieces with holly and ivy. The greens of wreaths remind us of God’s everlasting love. The reds recall His sacrifice on the cross.

If you mix red and green, you’ll get brown. However, this season, when some people see these colors, they’ll feel blue.Among the season of joy, salvation and miracles, there is a quiet sadness.  While busloads of children dive into bows and boxes this Christmas morn, there will be others who will swallow tears.  The range of colors is immense, and the emotions of this Christmas season will be vast.

Some will mourn the loss of a loved one. Some will be completely absorbed in regrets. Many will shake their head in disbelief at mounting debts.  A pool of blue will form as these souls face a choice: loneliness or love?

When you are mixing colors, you keep adding a little bit of one and then the other until you are satisfied. In love, when someone is sad, you can choose to offer comfort, community, guidance, or nothing at all. Without losing who you are, you can add to someone else’s life.  If you are sad, you can choose to ask for help, receive a kind gesture of friendship, lean on God,  or remain in your situation.  With someone to support you, you can rediscover your own strength.

I’ve been fortunate to be in both situations during the holidays: joyful and mournful. It’s easy to forget that others might be having a difficult time when the commercials advertise the sales and the carols play. It’s also easy to forget that I have a responsibility as part of Christ’s command:

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35 NIV)

Lord, please help me be mindful of those who may need me to share a little bit of myself with them this holiday. Show me how to love others like you love us.