LAUGHABLE

“Elmo” has been a part of our household for more than three decades. He's had a few battery “transplants,” but remains a dependable source of laughter. Just tickle his tummy. HA HA HA HA HA.....He's a good way to pull a grandson out of a funk. Ditto, me.

I'm not saying that a toy is my path to joy. Far from it. To be honest, this toy reminds me of a piece of art--the one in Proverbs 31 that we call a portrait of a “virtuous woman.” Her resume: hard-working, resourceful, wise, kind, generous, compassionate, strong with dignity, confident, joyful. Especially her confidence and industriousness inspire me. She doesn't go around blaming people and circumstances. Bad things happen to all of us. Some keep sucking on lemons and are known as complainers. The others make lemonade, knowing the “sweetening” to make the sour tolerable will come from a close relationship with Jesus.

I've thought a lot about the phrase in verse 25, “She laughs at the future,” the word “laugh” chosen for some English translations from the Hebrew word sachaq. In our culture, that word choice can easily be misconstrued as, “Are you kidding? Can things get any worse?” But sachaq has this range of meanings: “laugh, deride, play, rejoice.” In Proverbs 8:30-31 it expresses God's delight in creating the heavens and all the earth.

This is no tickle-the-red-fuzzy-creature laugh. It's one connected to wisdom and confidence. Some Bible translations use “rejoice,” as “She rejoices in the time to come.” And there will be time to come—or at “our” time on earth to end—for God's something more. I think that's the key to unlocking this verse. This chapter's description of “The Virtuous Woman”--who is the ultimate homemaker, supportive spouse, wise mother, and part-time businesswoman--has a God-focus. She's not bitter about her circumstances, but rises above complaint to do the best she can, Quite frankly, in our culture, I think she'd shove her television in a closet and guard against time-wasters on her computer or smart phone. (I smile to think of a smart phone in a Bible-times clay house...)

Would she keep a laughing Elmo toy on the shelf? If they'd had batteries in those days, maybe. But batteries deplete. The joy-of-the-Lord has a limitless source of power.

PEACE

Some of the last buds of summer at my home were this duo or roses, one which graced the bush for a few days, and one bud nearby, ready to take its place. A few weeks after this, I pruned all our roses to prevent snow breakage. Our rose beds edge the driveway, meaning snow shoveling can damage them. But I have no other options when I wake up to a foot of snow and need to clear the driveway.

The prophet Isaiah had similar observations, though certainly not with “snow load.”

The grass withers and the flowers fall. (Isaiah 40:8a)

Well, duh. It's called the cycle of life. It works for both the plant and animal world. But the opposite is this, in the very next verse:

But the word of our God stands forever. (Isaiah 40:8b)

There's another verse in Isaiah that gets repeated exposure during the Christmas season:

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,

And the government will be on his shoulders,

And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of his government and peace

there will be no end...(Isaiah 9:6-7)

Prophecies are glimmers of hope, reflections of God's good and just character. This one reminds us that Christmas is not just about a miracle Baby, destined to be a Savior, swaddled and put for safekeeping in a feeding trough. It's about the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace. “Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end” (v. 7).

I could be wrong—I'm not the world's greatest authority on roses—but I think the bloom I photographed is the “Peace Rose.” I didn't plan it that way, but it's a fitting illustration for our longings for the Prince of Peace—the Lord Jesus---to infuse this broken world with healing and peace. It's God's long-range plan.

Will He come Monday, which our calendar (though not historically true) assigns to the celebration of His birth? Or in about a week, when one old year bows aside to welcome the new? Only God knows. His Word tells us it will happen in the twinkling of an eye (1 Corinthians 15:52).

So yes, summer's flowers will wilt and their petals drop Their canes will blacken and die as cold sets in. But Peace, real Peace through the Prince of Peace, is in God's plan for this battered world. This is Hope worth celebrating. No presents, cards, trees, feasts, Black Fridays, or fancy decorations required. Just pure, worshiping hearts.

PINING FOR PINES

Dying--not dyed--needles

Proud of his German ancestry, at Christmastime my dad delighted in belting out that culture's legendary circa-1550 holiday song, “O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum” [O, Christmas tree, O Christmas Tree]. How fractured his German was, we kids never knew. But he sang it with gusto, typically when he brought home a tree from the local tree lot for us to decorate. Some years, by the time he went tree-shopping, just the scawny “Charlie Brown” trees were left--cheap! Besides, with enough of the family's eclectic decorations, who would discover the tree's emaciated state?

Now, in a revival of those years-ago trends, we're seeing more color-flocked trees. Excuse me, but they remind me of the current hair-dye fad that has men and women sporting “do's” in neon colors of the rainbow. Please, no garish holiday trees. Evergreens should be....green.

Sadly, some trees in my yard are exceptions, random branches turned orange by a fungal scourge called “blight.” Researching cures for that problem, I realize I'm no tree doctor. But my battle with the yard's ailing trees also makes me think twice whenever I read Psalm 1. Now, there's a tree ready for a nature's beauty pageant. It's been nourished well by sun and water. It produces great fruit and is a symbol of prosperity. In contrast would be the tree representing the ungodly, as useless as wind-blown chaff. For a Christmastime analogy, it would be a Charlie Brown tree: just a few scraggly limbs on a wimpy little cross-bar stand.

Another Biblical tree that I find hard to understand is described in Revelation 22. Just what wonder of nature could produce fruit every month (v. 2)? And have leaves full of the medicine to heal nations? With symbols so mysterious and wonderful, we'll have to wait and see until that Day.

Trust me, when that happens we won't be belting out “O Tannenbaum!” No, we'll sing wonderful hymns of praise to God. For He created this marvel called “tree.” During His tenure on earth, His Son walked among them, enjoyed their shade, picked their fruit, and used them for sermon illustrations. Oh, any tree—how lovely are thy branches as they reminder us of our Creator-Provider God!

'EBENEZER'--REVISITED

I find our local newspaper's birth announcements a primer in trendy names. I don't find my name very often, but lots of name blends and interesting spellings. But I don't come across a famous name of history and literature, which has (thanks to Charles Dickens' fiction) become synonymous with Christmas. Surely, you have heard of Ebenezer Scrooge.

For many years, I figured he got that name because “Ebenezer” rhymed with “geezer,” and he was all of that besides being a miserable, tightwad merchant who only cared for himself. Early in the story, Dickens gives this description of Scrooge:  "The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice." After visits from the three “ghosts” (spirits) of Christmas past, present and future, Scrooge changes his ways. He turns into a better, more generous man.

Thanks to this tale, our English language now has “scrooge” as a handy synonym for “greed” or “misanthropy.” People scoffing Christmas traditions are apt to borrow his phrase, “Bah! Humbug!” But we see little written about his first name, Ebenezer, which actually has a solid Bible story behind it.

The story begins in Israel's early history in the book of First Samuel. The Temple's “ark of the covenant,” a gold-covered box containing the tablets of the Ten Commandments and other sacred items, had been confiscated by the enemy Philistines. They transported it from Jerusalem to their territory--a bad idea. God punished them with physical misery (the NIV calls it “tumors in the groin”) and they returned the ark to a halfway point, not the Jerusalem temple. More battles ensued between the Philistines and the Israelites. In one, God intervened by sending thunder so loud and fearsome that the Philistines desperately retreated and lost the battle.

And that's where the name “Ebenezer” enters Biblical history:

Then Samuel [Israel's prophet-leader] took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far has the Lord helped us.” So the Philistines were subdued and did not invade Israelite territory again. (1 Samuel 7:12-13a)

So, yes--”Ebenezer” is a real name. My online search showed it especially popular these days among prominent citizens of Ghana! In the past, the name was shared by American and English leaders of all stripes. (1)

But what happened to that memorial stone, believed somewhere between Mizpah and Shen? Some researchers think it's one located about seven miles north of Jerusalem. (2)  But the actual stone (which could become like an idol) doesn't matter as much as the principle of this story in Biblical history. Sometimes we have to go through really tough battles. Our enemies don't carry actual swords, knives, or arrows. But they pierce us in our vulnerable spiritual places. We're left helpless, except for the sometimes surprising intervention by our Heavenly Father.

In that sense, we all can recall “Ebenezers,” or times when we relied on the rock-solid trustworthiness of God. When we are helpless and call out to Him, He hears. And later on, in time's perspective, we will be able to declare (as did the Israelites): “Thus far has the Lord helped us.” I recognize such times in my life with a few stones I keep on the window ledge in my office. Could a reminder rock be your gift to someone? Or yourself?

1) Ebenezer (given name) - Wikipedia

(2) Eben-Ezer - Wikipedia

UN-DECORATING FOR CHRISTMAS

The famed above-kitchen-sink "toe"

A family tradition as the calendar turned to “December” was retrieving our family's Christmas décor for its brief holiday “run.” That included the bin of wreaths and garlands, a long string of lights, the 40-year-old childproof creche, fireplace socks, and the fake Christmas tree and ornaments. I didn't have to hang the mistletoe: it was a year-round decoration on the ceiling above the kitchen sink.

But that was years ago. With nest-emptying and aging, and now a grandkid-toys-and-books “decor” cluttering our small home, my holiday decorating fervor faded. Last year I put up only the door wreath, creche and two socks—“mine” and “his.” My husband had only one wish on his “wish list”--to come home from the hospital after his heart attack. And he did—on Christmas afternoon.

I can't remember, but we may have shared a “welcome-back” kiss at the kitchen sink, under a sprig of mistletoe tacked there forty-some years earlier. Okay, when I was silly new bride, it was a reminder that “kissin' don't last, cookin' do.” Marrying (for the first and only time) in our mid-thirties, we had some catching up to do in that department.

With his death early this summer, I needed to make some changes. So the mistletoe came down. But not before I did a little research about this strange little “kissing” custom that seems highlighted every holiday. The brutal truth: mistletoe is a parasitic plant that latches onto a host plant and sucks the life out of it. Not very romantic! Mistletoe berries are also toxic—even can be deadly—if eaten. (That's why you never see “mistletoe jam” sold at Christmas!) In some pagan cultures, mistletoe was connected with human sacrifice. Folks in some ancient lands hung mistletoe over their doors to ward off demonic influences.

To all this, I say, “Oh, my.” I was way, way overdue to remove that ribbon-tied, withered sprig from our ceiling.

Enter new traditions. Like reaching out in quiet, small ways to those who mourn. I was touched when another recent widow started sending me 3x5 cards on which she'd printed encouraging Bible verses that were apparently meaningful to her in her loss. I clipped them to a stand below my computer screen. Four months after the flood of post-death sympathy cards, I was also encouraged by simple notes that said, “Still praying for you.” Trust me: at holidays, the grieving especially need gentle hugs and kind words,

Christmas can be such a hectic, even garish, time--hard for those pummeled by loss to endure. It's okay to counter the culture and simplify, to focus on the Light of the World more than the thousand-lights-Santa-manger yard setups.

Jesus' birth wasn't heralded by a searchlight guzzling 60,000 watts of electrical power. Heaven sent its own signal, enough for grubby, uneducated shepherds to discover the Greatest Gift. There was no mistletoe over the manger. But in that rough, manure-aroma stable, the world was kissed with God's love. We couldn't ask for anything more....