I Wonder

   When I come home from work at lunch time, there is a postman making his rounds. The regular collections of cars are parked at the school. I wave to my neighbors. I know the face of the people at the check-out at the store, the pharmacist, the UPS driver, and the lady who makes the great sandwiches at the Avenue Subs. I have a general idea of the different positions and jobs within the community, and know some of who make them up. In a smaller community, I can imagine that this network would be even tighter. So, this is really where my curiosity is presenting itself.

   We have the telling of how Christ was born into our world, His world, as a baby. But, as a community is born and lives, it is multi-faceted creature where connections have various levels of density and relations of linkage. Understanding though that things can happen in a community which creates a ripple effect, moving the links in waves of news and information, serves to fuel my curiosity. What did that community think, not only in the days of the actual birth of Christ, but in the months leading to it?
  What was the reaction to the silence of one man, the compassion of another, the obedience of a woman, the awe of another? What did the neighbors think; the shop keeper, the priest, the family, the people who moved through the lives of Mary and Joseph?
   I’ll kick off again trying to explore that concept and will continue to explore that in the days to come, but I just wanted to pause and think about how information moves through my own community. In many ways it is vastly different than the community of these parents, but in other ways very similar. We share news and ideas, we hear a broadcast of something that has happened and share the information. I wonder what our reaction would be, what the ripple effects would be.

The Foot Soldier

   First of all – let me just say, that is just my musing. Please go back to the Bible to read the true and complete account of the birth of Christ.

   I’m stationed in Bethlehem. It’s my first real assignment away from my own home in Oppius. We took a ship from Rome to the port here in Judea. I admit, it’s been a tough transition. I can’t keep the different people groups apart; from Pharisee to Sadducee and everything between. The laws that these people have are strict and completely foreign. I wouldn’t admit it to my own peers, but I do admire how stubbornly the Judeans are clinging to their own beliefs and cultures.
   Caesar has called for a census. It seems that he wishes to know exactly how many people there are within his kingdom. Of course there are other purposes, taxes and government. But, I do wonder how much of it is ego. Not that I would share that either.
   In the meanwhile, this was thought to be some grand adventure. Now that I’m here I’m not so sure. There is the unfamiliarity, but there is something else. There seems to be something going on, an undercurrent running through the street. There is an excitement, a sense of something building, but I’m not sure what.
   This little town is packed full of people. I even heard of some sleeping in the stalls at an inn’s stable. I suppose that you get shelter where you can. But, whoever heard of people making such reverent trips to see someone in a stable? Do all of these people act this way around a new baby or is this something special. And really, who defines this as special if born amongst hay and pack animals. Still, there is something going on…

Christmas – Stars

   I’m not sure when the bug hit, but it has been part of me as long as I can remember. I would stare up at the stars in the sky with wonder and awe and enjoyment. As Christmas approached, my dad, being the tallest person in the house, would place the star on top of the tree. It was made of a foil material, shiny and metallic. When the lights around the room were turned out, the Christmas tree lights turned on, and it was dark outside, the room would suddenly become a reflective tapestry of light patterns. Little lines, made delicate against the walls with the white lights, would entertain me for hours. I remember lying in the floor with my family, just watching the lights.

   When I go out at night, my eyes still wander up. My jaw still drops when I see a floating trail of light stream across the sky. I smile when I see planets lighting up the sky like brilliant and perceptually tiny globes of fire. Little pin pricks of light form constellations. Stories combine together the light points to make up patterns, reasons and direction.
   The shepherds must have had quite a few that year in the hillsides around Bethlehem. There they were, watching their flocks, and perhaps gazing up at the sky. Not a sky blazoned with city fluorescent lights, but a dark sky that would have shown a milky way to take your breath away. They saw other things that night as well, angels came to the shepherds. Perhaps for years after, they looked up at the sky and remembered the bright lights, the beauty of the sky that night.

Where Is It

   I have found that West Wing is no longer on in the morning, so instead I find myself on the news. I’m not opposed to watching the news. In fact, I think it’s important to be informed. But, the more I watch, the more I wonder – where is it?

   Where is the calm candor of discussion of different viewpoints? Where is the righteous indignation at the skew of perspective, the injustices and the plain bad behavior? Where is the burning hope and drive to change our communities? And I must admit, that I wonder where it is in me sometimes as well. What else could I be doing, where is my ire at the child like behavior of far too many adults?
   It is an annoyance, but when I see the father yelling at his children to get in the van before they are late for school, I cringe. I cringe that I can hear him all the way down the block and he sounds so angry. But, what do I say?
   When I see a parent that is actively engaged with their child in the store, involving them and talking to them, I smile. How do I encourage them?
  When someone has no gloves on a cold day, do I stop and offer mine? Where is our love? Go and love and encourage, find some way to reach out.

Window Dress

   There is a window of a two story home that sits just off the sidewalk. The two story home that is surrounded by a colorful blue privacy fence, with a beautiful rose bush tucked just inside the gate. I often see someone sitting inside on a plastic lawn chair, just inside the gate. The sidewalk needs swept, the house needs repair. But, up on the second floor, there is a window holding a plaintive and rather poignant view. There is a large piece of pressed fiberglass insulation leaned up against the window, as if it has taken the role of a curtain. But, draped over it is a strapless white dress. With the top tucked gingerly over the top of the fiberglass rectangle, the skirt is draped down below.

   I wonder what the story is of that dress, that house, that window. Is it something that someone is using as a temporary hanger, or something someone thought would be a pretty substitute curtain? Is it a fairytale dress for some little girl? Is it a dream dress for some adult woman? I walk by and I wonder about the dress in the window.

Tornado Song

   Just over three years ago, a tornado caused severe tree damage to my home. Around 100 trees were literally picked up and twisted from the earth. Arriving home, I found the yard completely covered in sections by entire trees. It was overwhelming, so much work needed to be done to fix this. A phone call came from a state about 8 hours away. A crew of friends came out and helped work. They drove for hours to work, worked extremely hard the next day, and then left the following day to go back to their jobs. As a way to say thank you, a slideshow/video was put together of the many hands that had served. They did such a tremendous amount of work, both in cleaning up the trees and in raising our flagging spirits. One of the songs on the CD was Chris Tomlin’s God of Wonders. The song recognizes the wonders that God has created on earth.

   I heard that song yesterday during church and it was such a reminder to me of the wonder of God! Every tree that fell either fell away from the house or was angled in such a way as it did not cause major damage. We had many who came and helped, many who worked long hot hours amidst chain saws and logs. In the middle of literally destruction, God’s wonders were many and were overwhelming.
   It is easy when the mess is cleaned back up to forget that wonder and awe. It is easy to forget the feelings of friendship and of persistence to clean up the mess. But, then I heard my tornado song and it all came back. God is a wonder indeed.