Of Magic and Miracles

"You'll shoot your eye out!"To put this all in context, we’ve just come through the Christmas and New Year celebration seasons. Having four girls under the age of five makes Christmas a fun and magical time.

I’m a bit of a late bloomer in the realm of parenting, so this is my first set of urchins to awaken to the ever-increasing wonderama that is Christmas in America. The oldest (four year old twins) are now fully engaged with the “I am getting presents” thing. This year they realized for the first time that the cookies they were decorating were good eatin’, and the desire to consume copious amounts of sugar quickly overtook the urge to open gifts, to the point that cookies were the only topic of dinnertime conversation for three days leading up to the blessed event. Our goal of convincing them that Christmas is all about giving to others is lagging behind a bit, but we’re making progress, despite the inherent narcissism that marks the toddler to preschool years. They now at least acknowledge that the baby Jesus is somehow connected to the chaos, and will tolerate other people getting presents without protest.

And then there’s Santa. I have to confess here that I have always had a dualistic relationship with the hoary elf. On the one hand, I never recall thinking Santa was real. On the flip side, I distinctly remember my Dad, with a wry wink, advising us to listen for reindeer on the roof of our mobile home on Christmas Eve. When it came time to educate our spawn regarding the ubiquitous December icon, we took a somewhat similar approach, albeit attempting to infuse a sense of theological accuracy. We teach that Santa is a fun story – a parable of sorts that teaches us about giving to others and doing the right things for the right reasons (by illuminating all the wrong ones, like “be good to get stuff”). With this approach, we get to pretend and play the Santa game with no jeopardy attached. I think the twins get it. On Christmas Eve I told them they had to go to sleep or Santa wouldn’t come. The red-head said “Oh – you won’t come with the presents if we’re awake?” Perfect.

Your Mind is the Scene of the Crime.

I’m not given to reviewing movies here on ViralJesus.org, but I’ve been thinking a lot about a film I saw over the weekend – Inception. I was putting together a post on this very subject, and the movie had an oddly crystallizing effect. I was gripped by the tag line used in promotional materials:

Your mind is the scene of the crime.

Woven into the writings of the Scriptures we find the concept that the mind is a battlefield. The epic wars between good and evil, better and best, the flesh and the spirit – all rage in our inner thoughts. The fight begins in our center of consciousness, but its outcome has the power to determine our destiny and expresses itself in our words and actions. Jesus addressed the legalism of His generation this way:

20He went on: “What comes out of a man is what makes him ‘unclean.’ 21For from within, out of men’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, 22greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. 23All these evils come from inside and make a man ‘unclean.’ “  -Mark 7

Father to Daughter

Okay – one more post about Dad angst before I go back to broader topics…

One week from tomorrow, God willing, we will welcome a fourth girl – Ella Rae – into our family. I was thinking tonight about the years we ached for just one child and the task we have now undertaken – raising 4 girls. It’s more than I ever hoped for, but now I’m praying (as I think all parents must) that it’s not more than I can handle…

As I think tonight about the mysteries of fathers and daughters, I randomly remembered this music video from our old pal Lindsay Lohan, back when she was a young starlet with a bright future. I don’t know how much of this is embellished and how much is autobiography, but I do remember how I felt when I saw it for the first time: physically ill. And maybe a little angry. And I am thinking now about the tragic turns her life has taken, and thinking that maybe we should have seen it coming back then.

I dream of another you, one who would never.
Never, leave me alone to pick up the pieces.
A Daddy to hold me, that’s what I needed.

Haunting. Especially for us father-types. When I see LiLo in a news story, I don’t see a hedonistic Hollywood celeb or a cautionary tale or a target of ridicule. I see the scared, angry, hurting little girl in this video. And I think two things:

One: Lindsay, you do have a Father dying to hold you, whole will never leave you alone, who will pick up the pieces. And He’s close. And it’s never too late.

Two: Dear God – make me like You so I don’t mess up my girls.

Hard.

old_bibleNot a lot of time, but feeling the need to post. I have been working up the outline of a book I’d like to write (much like this blog, it will likely never reach any audience, but it’s something I always wanted to try). It’s called “Letters to Neo.” The basic idea is to frame Paul’s letters to Timothy and Titus – young pastors he was mentoring – along with a few of his other words of wisdom for “overseers” in light of current American culture. These are timeless words, and they are profound in the context of the part of the Story we find ourselves in.

I’ve also been studying to teach about some of the “Hard Words of Jesus” at Redwood Hills. The upshot of both of those efforts is that I have been thinking a lot about Jesus’ ministry on a practical level – His words, His way of doing things, and how it affected the first generation of His disciples. A million deep thoughts come from that, but here’s one for today:

It’s hard to be like Jesus.