5 Facts for the 5 Feelings of February

It’s February, month of the heart. When I reflect on the state of my heart during past Februaries, I see high highs, low lows, and everything in between. Whether due to a romantic relationship (or lack thereof) or simply life’s circumstances, my feelings generally fit into one of five categories: fabulous, fine, fickle, fragile, and fed up. This motley crew has made for an emotional roller coaster that has sent me running to solid ground for facts, truth to steady my reeling feelings. God’s Word has much to say about the heart, and its principles have been a lifeline for me. You may even see yourself here and find comfort in facts that are greater than feelings.

Feeling: Fabulous

Fact: “You turned my wailing into dancing; You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing Your praises and not be silent.” (Psalm 30:11-12a)

God loves us so much! His ultimate gift of love to us is salvation through Jesus, but frequently He goes the extra mile to display His affection through good things that happen in our lives. If you’re in this spot, remember that He’s the source of the joy you’re feeling, thank Him, and enjoy the moment! Do something to memorialize it too--take pictures, write in a journal, etc.--so you can remember God's goodness to you the next time you're not feeling so fabulous. Tell someone else about it too! Your story is powerful and could have a huge impact on a discouraged friend.

Feeling: Fine

Fact: “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” (Proverbs 4:23)

“Fine” is often the answer we give to people who ask how we’re doing when we don't want to discuss how we're really doing. We might be feeling pretty good, or we might be feeling pretty bad, but sometimes we prefer to live in a state of numbness rather than address our true situation. God is not the Authenticity Police, but He does care deeply about your heart because He knows it affects everything you do. Give your heart some self-care by reading the Word thoughtfully, prayerfully, and introspectively; it will meet you right where you are.

Feeling: Fickle

Fact: “The king’s heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it wherever He wishes.” (Proverbs 21:1)

God knows that we can be fickle, and He’s not phased by how frequently we change our minds. Take comfort in the fact that He is sovereign—over your heart, the heart of the guy you'd like to call you, the heart of your boss from whom you'd like a promotion, and the heart of the estranged relative with whom you'd like to be reconciled. It’s not always clear why God does what He does, but He can certainly be trusted because He is good. So commit your heart and all the others about which you're concerned into His capable hands and rest.

Feeling: Fragile

Fact: “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26)

Sometimes pain leaves us in a place of vulnerability; we don’t want to put ourselves out there, and we don’t dare hope because we can’t bear to get hurt again. Fortunately, we don’t have to muster the strength to go on because we can lean on God’s strength. He is our portion, meaning He is exactly enough for us. Tell Him how you're feeling, and ask Him to help you to draw on His strength.

Feeling: Fed Up

Fact: “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4)

Feeling frustrated because nothing is going like you thought it would? Instead of focusing on making things happen and getting what you want, cultivate your relationship with God. As you do so, He may not drop everything you want right into your lap like a genie in a bottle, but He will change your desires to match His desires for you, and then He’ll fulfill them. By the way, many of the desires that we have--for husbands, fulfilling careers, children, financial stability--were given to us by God. He wants to refine us so our hearts will be ready to receive His gifts and give Him glory for them.

The Word contains many more truths about the heart and facts that speak to every variety of feeling. No matter where you are on the wide continuum, I hope this February finds you in possession of all the truth you need.

How are you feeling this February? What fact is giving you comfort, whether one of these or something else?

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22 Birthday Wishes for My Favorite 22 Year-Old

When I was 22, fresh out of school and ready to start my first “real” job, I moved in with a fun and kind family with whom I’d become acquainted in my college town. Their daughter, Mariah, was 16 at the time, and we became close friends. Though she and I are both technically only children, in each other we gained a sister. We have milked that sister relationship for all the adventures, heart-to-hearts, and shenanigans it’s worth! This weekend she’s turning 22, and I’ve got some birthday wishes for her:

Mariah,

1.  May your hot tub be hot and your pool cool.

2.  May your fridge be stocked with chocolate chip cookie dough every time you get a craving.

3.  May your TV give you gifts of quality entertainment—like the distinct pleasure of watching couples who met online meet in real life on Catfish.

4.  May your nearest Vera Bradley store be an outlet.

5.  May your tummy be ever full. There’s no shame in Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes at 10:00pm.

6.  May your radio be tuned to country music and your GPS set to Nashville.

7.  May your scooter have plenty of gas to take you to Sonic and back on half-price milkshake night.

8.  May your weather forecast be accurate and your interior closet nearby. If you’re really lucky, your loved ones will wedge you in there with pillows.

9.  May your personal photographer be always handy and willing. (Psst! Brandon, this is you now!)

10.  May your shopping trips be met with the desire to see your purchases modeled in a fashion show at home. Lights and music? Even better.

11.  May ice storms and snow days find you in the company of family, friends, and endless rounds of Mexican Train dominoes.

12.  May your need for much sleep be accommodated. If it’s hot inside, sleep on your backyard trampoline. Do what you need to do!

13.  May your crazy plans have an accomplice—skateboarding lessons by cover of darkness and the like.

14.  May your resolve to be yourself never waver…even after everyone else has stopped listening to Justin Bieber. (I'll still be listening to the Biebs, which may or may not make you feel better.)

15.  May your priorities be straight: jet skiing or GRE prep course—you tell me… That was a test; if you said jet skiing, you passed.

16.  May your maturity never prevent you from jumping on a trampoline.

17.  May your late-night secrets find a listening ear and an understanding heart.

18.  May your confidence never fade that you are beautiful and you have beautiful things to offer the world.

19.  May your adventures be many.

20.  May your heartaches be few.

21.  May your disappointments remind you to believe in something better from Jesus.

22.  May your knowledge that you are loved be steadfast—by God, your husband, your parents, your family, friends, and me!

Happy Birthday, Sis!

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On Sweet Potatoes and Humility

Sometimes the smallest things produce the biggest results. My new role of farm wife is teaching me just that!—in more ways than one...

One day last spring my farmer husband of less than a year asked me to pick up twelve sweet potato plants at the local garden center while I was in town. He’d cultivated the garden and was ready to plant them, visions of delicious sweet potato fries, casseroles, and pies dancing in his head.

Eager to please and eager to prove myself as a capable farmer’s wife despite my suburban upbringing, I headed to the garden center. I asked a worker who was watering flowers to point me to the sweet potato plants, to which she inquired, “Sweet potato vines?” “Sure,” I said, feeling a twinge of doubt concerning that word vines but quickly pushing it aside, not wanting to appear as though I didn’t know what I was doing. She directed me to a display covered in lovely pale green and purple leaves. I selected twelve of the best-looking plants, filled a large tray with the small plastic pots, purchased them, and drove to the farm.

When I walked up to the front porch of the farmhouse carrying my flat full of plants, I encountered my father-in-law. The twinkle in his eye and wry smile that spread across his face as he glanced at my armload instantly alerted me to the fact that I’d made a mistake. I recalled my earlier doubt at the garden center, blushed, and said, “I bought the wrong thing, didn’t I?” Ever the diplomat, he simply shrugged his shoulders and allowed my sister-in-law, who’d happened upon the scene, to take over the conversation. “Oh, well!”, she said, having mercy on me. “If you’d never seen them before, you’d have no way of knowing which plants to get.” This gracious response to my blunder helped me to catalog this experience in my mind as one of humility instead of humiliation. My husband responded similarly but sent me right back to the garden center to remedy my error.

The ten-minute drive into town gave me time to ponder this new life of mine and the fact that it felt hopeful and beautiful, yet at the same time foreign and awkward. My previous two jobs had required me to be skilled in performance—one focused on musical performance and one public speaking—so confidence had been a key factor in my success. I was beginning to suspect, however, that it would not primarily be confidence that made me flourish in my role of farm wife—in fact, overconfidence had gotten me into trouble!—but rather humility. I'd need a willingness to admit that there was much I didn't know and a teachable spirit to learn from my husband and others who would help me become acquainted with the unfamiliar yet rewarding ways of farm life.

When I arrived back at the garden center, the teenage boy working the cash register was fortunately uninterested in my embarrassment. He mechanically exchanged my $20 worth of sweet potato vines for $3 of sweet potato plants. To my surprise the twelve plants were tiny, each about six-inches long and together forming a bundle no bigger around than a nickel! I felt silly carrying this flimsy little cluster wrapped in a wet paper towel back to my car when just moments earlier I'd emerged from it with arms full; anyone observing the transaction would be sure to know I wasn't from around here. When I returned to the farm, I helped my husband plant the itty-bitties, again surprised because he’d made twelve mounds of dirt that were very large—much larger than the plants I held in my hand could ever warrant, I thought. But I’d learned my lesson, so I kept these doubts to myself.

Several months later it was time to harvest our sweet potatoes. My husband dug the potatoes while I put them into empty seed sacks. The first sack filled up quickly, and soon we had filled a second…Then a third! By the time we’d harvested all of the sweet potatoes, we had a crop of over 200 pounds! I couldn’t believe that the twelve wimpy-looking plants over which I'd agonized had yielded such an abundance. Our bumper crop even included a huge state fair-worthy sweet potato that weighed 11.2 pounds!

For me that sweet potato harvest was metaphorical. In the same way that the tiny plants produced a large harvest, my small, inconspicuous decision to approach my new farm life with humility has begun to produce big results as well. Through asking a million questions, letting others show me the way, and getting my hands dirty I've learned my way around this way of living a bit more and become more comfortable in my own skin here too. I know my lessons are just beginning, but they are not without their delightful rewards--like the perfectly crisp grilled sweet potato wedges we ate for dinner tonight!

What about you? What small thing can you cultivate now that might produce a big result later?

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Grace for the Rookie Farm Wife

Last week I shared with you “Confessions of a Rookie Farm Wife,” a list of admissions related to how I’m carrying out my role as newbie farm woman extraordinaire. That list was a humorous by-product of a pre-existing list, one which is no laughing matter. I call it “The Farm Wife’s List of Shoulds:”

1.  As a farm wife I should cook/bake everything from scratch.

2.  As a farm wife I should become a master seamstress.

3.  As a farm wife I should have as many children as possible…and homeschool them.

4.  As a farm wife I should work hard sun up to sun down, refusing silly distractions such as making myself a cappuccino or chatting with the cows.

This is only a sampling of items on that sobering list, and guess what? I have other roles as well—blogger, administrative assistant, daughter, minister to college students, and friend, to name a few—and each of these roles has its own list of shoulds. I won’t name all of these shoulds for you because this article would reach lengths not even my mom would read. You’ve got your own set of roles, each with its own list of shoulds.

Where do these shoulds come from? Some come from societal expectation, some from individual people, and many from our own selves. No matter the source, these shoulds are based on a faulty assumption that we can do and be everything, and they create an ever-present sense of shame because—newsflash—we cannot do and be everything.

Jesus has a list of shoulds for the farm wife; would you like to hear it?

1.  Love God.

2.  Love people.

This isn’t an excerpt of His list; it’s complete. Two items. That’s it! And His list is the same for the politician, accountant, pastor, and stay-at-home mom: love God, and love people.

When Jesus walked on earth, He dealt with a group of experts in religious law whose list of shoulds exceeded 600 items—that’s even longer than my list! Do you know what He told them? If they would simply love God and love people, all the other shoulds would take care of themselves. (See Matthew 22:34-40.) The same is true for us. Loving God and loving people are not single-step concrete tasks but rather a framework by which to measure other decisions. If this is sounding complicated, stick with me! I can’t wait for you to see the freedom this brings.

Let’s use a classic farm wife task for a case study: frying chicken. Oooh, I love fried chicken! I could eat some right now, never mind that it’s 9:30am. Is making fried chicken loving? As a devoted consumer of fried chicken and granddaughter of an expert chicken fryer, let me say a resounding yes! I know my family members would agree that the delicious food Grandma served was a tangible expression of her deep love for us. When we show love to other people, we are showing love to God (1 John), so I’d say frying chicken passes the test.

But you know what else is loving? Ordering pizza. Grabbing a couple of two-liters and inviting a few friends over for a movie night. Within the framework of loving God and loving people, there is so much grace. Jesus has given me the freedom to decide if I’d like to fry chicken or order pizza. To become a seamstress or continue to rely on my trusty iron-on patches. To homeschool my children or make an informed decision to send them to a traditional school.

This grace isn’t just for the rookie farm wife; it’s also for you, the nurse, engineer, and teacher. There’s freedom to choose any number of paths as long as you love God and love people. This isn’t easy, but it is simple. And, by the way, it requires a relationship with Jesus to carry out, an ongoing dependence on His strength and guidance. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather rely on Him than try to do everything and be everything.

So do your thing. Release your shoulds. Love God, and love people. Fry chicken. Or order pizza. But if you decide to make fried chicken, call me.

What are your shoulds? How can you walk in the freedom of loving God and loving people today?

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Confessions of a Rookie Farm Wife

They say confession is good for the soul. I’m a rookie farm wife, and I need to do some confessing:

1.  The only “clutch” I have known is the type of small handbag sans straps I occasionally carry to parties. My tractor driving lessons have sought to introduce me to another “clutch,” in the same grouping as brake and accelerator, but the concept is still lost on me. Am I supposed to be stopping or going? I have no idea.

2.  I try really hard to be flexible because I know that farming activities can change from moment to moment based on weather, equipment, or any number of variables. However, when called on to be flexible, my gut reaction is to be cranky because my heart’s desire is to know and stick to The Plan. At minimum I’d like to know the following: How long are we going to be there? Should I wear long underwear? Will there be snacks?

3.  I buy jelly, jam, applesauce, and tomato sauce at the grocery store. The most effort I expend in the preparation of these items involves a rubber jar lid gripper and some unladylike grunting.

4.  Husband, I do not understand how any one person can have so many relatives. Mind blown.

5.  I have never pushed a mower, believing paying twenty bucks to a high school kid to be a fantastic alternative to doing it myself. But I will mow all day long on this fancy schmancy riding lawnmower, especially if these pale arms can soak up some sun.

6.  Husband, when I go for a summertime harvest ride in the combine with you, I make sure all the AC vents are pointed your way because you’re working so hard!...but secretly I harbor a smidge of resentment because I am sweaty and fighting off a deep nap.

7.  These trusty Tony Lama boots have seen country concerts, a rodeo, my wedding, and a few evenings of two-stepping but not one solitary day of work.

8.  I sew buttons, and that is all I sew.

9.  Picking green beans, tomatoes, and other vegetables is a test of my bug stamina. I put on my big girl pants when it comes to grasshoppers and even garden spiders, but when a huge bee swarms around my head, I do a quick, stealthy glance to make sure no one’s watching…and then I run away.

10.  Sometimes I just need to take a selfie with a hay bale/chicken/giant zucchini, okay?

11.  I wish cows were more like golden retrievers. Though their mammoth tongues like to lick, they just stare at me when I talk to them and don’t seem particularly interested in letting me pet them. It's rather disheartening.

12.  Husband, I think that I deserve some kind of award for remembering the names of your 50 first cousins. My mastery leaves no room for you to ever falter regarding the identification of any of my three cousins. Don’t even get me started on your second cousins. I just can’t even.

13.  Bringing a Vera Bradley thermos of cappuccino into the tractor in winter may seem like a luxury to the outside observer, but for me it is a necessity, a lifeline for warmth, alertness, and contentedness.

14.  I mow over the spider webs in the grass near the house no fewer than three times because did you hear about that infestation in St. Louis? I’m still having nightmares.

15.  I receive a great deal of amusement at the expense of the hogs by scaring them out of their peaceful state and watching them run around in a frenzy and then stop and stare at me, perfectly still until I scare them again, and they run around…

16.  For patching jeans? Iron on, baby!

17.  Fields of wheat, corn, soybeans, alfalfa—they all look the same to me! Milo schmilo! (Admittedly my Roadside Crop Identification 101 class with Farmer Husband has helped a great deal in this regard.)

18.  The bread that I feed my family comes not from my own humble pan but rather an ostentatious plastic bag.

19.  Husband, I find it rather unfair that at any moment you can put the combine in park and hop down to discreetly relieve yourself while I must wait till we’ve driven a full round and unloaded grain, walk to the road, and drive to the farmhouse, then repeat the process in reverse to return to my post, meaning your potty break takes 30 seconds and mine 30 minutes.

20.  I’m a bit green when it comes to this farm wife thing, but this is a beautiful life, and I’m thankful that it’s mine.

Come back next week to read "Grace for the Rookie Farm Wife;” subscribe to my email newsletter, and you’ll be the first to read this and every post!

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Oil Your Back

The other day my husband and I had one of those “discussions”—my diplomatic reframe of arguments—in which he just wasn’t getting it, and I wasn’t getting it either! Neither of us had a clue what the other was trying to say, as if I were speaking Swahili and he Klingon. Nevertheless we were back on the same planet, understanding each other and coexisting peaceably within twenty minutes, thanks largely to Greg’s patience, calm spirit, and refusal to emotionally escalate at the breakneck rate towards which I tend. I’ll admit to being as sensitive as the next woman, if not a little more, so my husband’s steadfastness is an asset to me personally and to our marriage.

I told him as much following our argument—I mean discussion—and thanked him for not being easily offended. He said, “I keep my back oily,” to which I wrinkled my nose and said, “Eww! TMI!”, then, “Wait…What are we talking about here?” He said, “You know, like a duck.” I didn’t know—I guess duck facts fall into the unfortunate 90% of sixth-grade science class learning that didn’t make it to the present day—so he explained to me that ducks have glands that produce oil that causes water to easily roll off of their backs; this means that they can swim around all day without being wet and weighed down. (He’s a farmer; he knows these things.) In a similar way Greg keeps his figurative (Thank goodness!) back oily so that many of the things he could be offended by simply roll off.

How? I think there’s a secret in Proverbs 19:11, a verse both Greg and I have sought to epitomize, though this is easier said than done. It says, “A man’s wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense.” Let’s examine this verse more closely. First, it’s wise to be patient; this isn’t rocket science. The wiser you are, the more patient you will be when people misunderstand and offend you. And guess what? God gives wisdom to anyone who asks for it (James 1:5). Next, when I overlook an offense, it is to my glory!—not in a weird, “worship me” sort of way but rather as an indication of who I am, my character, which ultimately points back to whose I am, Christ's! The definition for the Hebrew word for “glory” (tiph’arah) includes beauty, honor, and bravery—I love that! It takes bravery to let someone off the hook who has offended me.

Finally, let’s explore the part of this verse with which I have the most difficulty: overlook. I bristle at the thought of “overlooking” an offense because to me this seems to carry the idea of pretending the offense never happened, saying it didn’t hurt even though it did, and basically being in denial, of which I'm not a big fan. Once again the Hebrew definition is helpful; to “overlook” (‘abar) something is to pass over, by, or through it, and this is the same word used to describe how the Spirit of God passed over those doorframes painted with blood that fateful night in ancient Egypt (See Exodus 12:12, 23.). Those homes which were passed over were spared from death and "overlooked" by the Destroyer in response to the presence of lamb’s blood, which foreshadowed the death of Jesus, the satisfactory payment for all offenses throughout history. In other words, to 'abar something is not to simply ignore it for no reason but rather to make an intentional choice to move on from it for a good reason.

The good reason we can make the difficult and even crazy choice to overlook others' offenses against us is that Jesus has taken all offenses upon Himself (1 Peter 2:24), and it's His job, not ours, to deal with them (Romans 12:19). He is just, giving mercy freely but only to those who make Him the Lord of their lives (Romans 9-10), and He does not remove the consequences of sin (Galatians 6:7-8). Let's take our hurts to Jesus and trust Him to deal with those who hurt us because He is more than capable! Let's pick our battles carefully and examine our motives when we’re confronting an offender. Some offenses need to be addressed, and some need to roll off our backs. Let’s keep our backs oily through a steady intake of the Word and output of prayer so we can swim around freely and unburdened by offense like we were created to do.

How about you? How do you keep your back oily? Let me know in the comments.

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10 Things I Learned from George Bailey

One of my favorite Christmas movies is the 1946 classic, It’s a Wonderful Life.  The movie tells the story of George Bailey, a good-hearted but discouraged man who is given the unique experience of seeing the world as if he'd never been born. He learns a good deal along the way, and we can learn from his journey as well. If you haven't seen the movie or need a refresher, I've provided one in the next two paragraphs. If like me you've watched this holiday film several times this year,  continue on to find 10 Things I Learned from George Bailey.

Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, which means that I may receive a small commission if you make a purchase through one of the links I've provided here--at no additional cost to you. Please check out my disclosure policy for more info, and thanks for your support!

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It's a Wonderful Life Synopsis

George is a benevolent man who sacrifices his dream of traveling the world in order to run his family’s business, a bank that provides loans based on trust and consequently homes for families who otherwise could not afford them. The wealthy and conniving Mr. Potter continually tries to take over The Building and Loan, and time and again George chooses to do what’s in the best interest of the people of his community instead of advancing his career or making his life more comfortable. He watches while his brother and friends achieve great success and wonders if his holding fast to principle is worth it.

In a series of unfortunate events, including the loss of a large sum of money which could result in bankruptcy, George becomes so distraught that he makes his way to a snowy bridge, intending to end his life. Before he can jump, a kind old man, who is actually an angel named Clarence on a mission to earn his wings, jumps into the raging river below and shouts for help. George dives into the river to save Clarence, while Clarence insists that he jumped in to save George. Clarence then takes George on a walk through town, showing him what the people and places familiar to him would be like if he’d never been born. George is surprised to see how different the world is without him in it and realizes that he actually does have a wonderful life. When he returns to reality, the friends and neighbors whom George has helped over the years rally together to give money in order to save the bank and encourage George, and Clarence has earned his wings.

10 Things I Learned from George Bailey

1.  Discouragement is the worst! It’s a Wonderful Life opens on several stars in the night sky—presumably God and several angels—talking about George’s predicament. Clarence, George's guardian angel, says, “Is he sick?” The “God” being says, “No. Worse! He's discouraged.” Discouragement can be nearly debilitating, and perhaps it's such a formidable foe because it flies under the radar. Major crises like death, illness, and divorce scream at us, while discouragement whispers to us. Because our lives are more obviously affected by the “big” things, we’re more likely to seek help and growth through them. “Little” issues like discouragement don’t seem to warrant our time and attention, so they’re allowed to live on unchecked, and there’s nothing “little” about the influence they have on our lives.

2.  The most valuable investments are relational. George and his wife experience the joy of helping a poor family move into their first home, and immediately following the celebration George watches his old buddy Sam pull up in a fancy car, and Sam’s wife steps out wearing a fur coat. George sees the contrast between the life he could have had and that which he’s chosen numerous times and still continues to value people over possessions. He celebrates the successes of those in his life—his brother’s receiving a congressional medal of honor among them—even when he’s experiencing hardship.

3.  Boundaries are good. Though the primary lesson we learn from George is one of putting others before oneself, we see another side to his benevolence: someone says of George, “he never thinks of himself; that’s why he's in trouble.” No one could live the life George Bailey lived and not experience some serious burnout. There’s a fine line between being willing to help anyone at any time and having no boundaries which protect yourself and your family. Prioritizing oneself may seem selfish to the outside observer, but those who take care of their own selves are much healthier and better equipped to help others.

4.  Unresolved anger eventually erupts. George experienced so many setbacks, it’s no wonder he grabbed his uncle by the collar, lashed out at his children, and yelled at his daughter’s school teacher; he had good reason to be mad. Anger needs an outlet, and knowing this can help us find an appropriate channel that works for us so that we don’t hurt our loved ones with our explosions.

5.  Help often comes in a different way than we expect. When the odd Clarence tells George that he is his guardian angel, George says sarcastically, “Well, you look about like the kind of an angel I’d get.” Help often comes to us similarly—in a different package then we expected. Recently I was in a situation in which I had to ask for help from someone towards whom I’ve had many judgmental thoughts. Help was given, and I was humbled.

6.  Prayer works. George prayed desperately in the bar: “Dear Father in heaven, I'm not a praying man, but if you're up there and you can hear me, show me the way. I'm at the end of my rope.” His prayer was not pretty or articulate, but it moved God to send Clarence. I believe God would rather have our desperation and honesty than our polish and pretension any day.

7.  Each man’s life touches many others. Seeing his town as if he’d never been born helped George realize that he had been a powerful force for good in his community. For instance, George may have felt like he wasn’t making much of a difference when he loaned a little money to his struggling friend, Violet, but in the universe in which he didn’t exist she was fighting with the police on the street. We don't get to see what others' lives would be like if we weren't in them, but we should never underestimate the power of a small act of kindness, a friendly conversation, or a humble service.

8.  We need other people. George never found the lost $8,000, but his friends and neighbors saved the day by donating enough money to cover the loss. Without their help, George’s bank would have gone under. I’m pretty independent, so sometimes I forget that I need other people. This week a friend was able to encourage me in a way that only she could have done, and it brought me some hope that I could never have manufactured on my own.

9.  There will always be naysayers. When George and Mary walk down the aisle, we see Mary’s mother crying, and they aren’t tears of joy. In the end she comes around and donates money to help George’s cause. Some of our critics will change their minds about us too. But not all of them will, just as Mr. Potter remains greedy and grouchy, and we shouldn’t be surprised by this.

10.  Helping others helps us. On occasion when I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for some reason or another, my husband has suggested that I help someone else so that I’ll feel better. I admit I haven’t been too appreciative of that recommendation, but he is right—when we’re feeling blue, helping others takes the focus off of ourselves, gives us a perspective check, and benefits someone else. Saving Clarence from drowning saved George, and helping George allowed Clarence to earn his wings. And George Bailey’s life and legacy have helped us too!

It's a wonderful life! Merry Christmas.

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Christmas Quick Reads

The cozy glow of a Christmas tree provides an ideal context for pajama-clad, cocoa-sipping reading. My favorite Christmas-themed literature, developed through years of just such tree-side reading, includes Clement Moore's famous poem, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas,"  the humorous and grace-filled book, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, and Charles Dickens' classic redemptive short story, "A Christmas Carol." This year I've been reading blogs, and I've got some quick but reflective reads for you. Enjoy!

Celebrating St. Nicholas, the real Santa Claus

Tsh Oxenreider discusses the historical St. Nicholas at The Art of Simple.

Just Drop the Blanket: The Moment You Never Noticed in A Charlie Brown Christmas

Jason Soroski provides some clever insight into the classic Peanuts Christmas special via Crosswalk.

What We Get Wrong About Advent

Stephen Miller discusses the real significance of Advent via Relevant.

Naughty or Nice?

Duck Dynasty's Missy Robertson explains why we may think of God the same way our young selves thought of Santa.

How to Remember When You'd Rather Forget

Emily Freeman talks about what to do with the mixed feelings Christmas sometimes brings on the (in)courage Blog.

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What are your favorite Christmastime reads?

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Job Skillz

At least once a year during the holiday season I find myself driving by a crowded mall parking lot and reminiscing about the Christmas breaks I spent working the college girl’s dream job—as a cashier at Bath and Body Works. I wore a black apron, sold shower gel and candles, chatted with tons of ladies about their Christmas shopping, and kept the shelves in my zone looking tantalizing. One of my besties, Shannon, also worked at the store, so our already enjoyable shifts were absolutely a blast when we were on the clock together, particularly when we both worked the cash register and were able to provide commentary on each others’ amusing exchanges with customers.

I’ve enjoyed every job I’ve had to one degree or another, and I’m thankful for this, knowing that some people truly hate their jobs. I’m also a firm believer that regardless of how much you like or dislike your current employment, it has something to teach you, skills that you can carry with you throughout life. Bath and Body Works taught me how to sell to a customer based on her needs, while educating her about new products and great deals in a non-pushy way. This foundational skill provided a great jumping-off point for my later job as a university recruiter, which required a similar balance of salesmanship and customer service.

I can also think of some abilities I acquired via this seasonal employ that aren’t exactly resume material but will nevertheless continue to be helpful to me. I call abilities like this skillz.

Skillz are abilities that may not provide clout in the business world but prove extremely useful in the real world.

Urban Dictionary and I have different ideas about skillz, as you might imagine, but I like its insight that “skillz may or may not pay the billz.”

Let me share some skillz I acquired at Bath and Body Works to illustrate this concept:

• Ability to climb a ladder with a heavy box—In week one of my job at BBW, you might have heard me say, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be glad to go check the back room to see if we have any more Japanese Cherry Blossom Foaming Hand Soap. Just keep in mind that they come in boxes of 50 and are located on a shelf 20 feet in the air, necessitating that I put my life on the line on a wobbly ladder for the sake of your clean, fragrant hands.” By week six my heavy-laden ladder ascensions were practically acrobatic, not to mention that for once in my life I had biceps.
• Gift of spotting a “lost soul”—Nope, not that kind of lost soul—I’m talking about a specific type of man here. If you’re a woman, you’ve seen this guy out shopping at one time or another, and if you’re a man, you just might have been this guy at one time or another… He walks into BBW confidently, looking pleased with himself that she wanted him to shop here for her Christmas present, and here he is. Seconds later his expression changes as he realizes the battle is not yet won; he’s in the right place and yet has no earthly idea where to go from here, what to do next. Walls of Wallflowers are closing in on him. This is where I come in—the friendly Sales Associate here to save the day! I find out what I can about his lady and make suggestions for gifts, tempering the forcefulness of my “suggesting” to match his level of desperation and mandating that he make the final selection so that he feels at least a little ownership of the whole process. “Babe, I knew you’d love Black Raspberry Vanilla because you like to eat raspberries, and I like vanilla.”
• Knowledge of the connection between fragrance and memory—Recently I used some lotion that had been in the back of my cabinet for an embarassingly long time, and instantly I felt like I was surfing! Why? I hadn’t encountered that scent since a vacation my parents and I took to San Diego several years ago, during which I took a surfing lesson. Fragrance has a powerful connection to memory to the point that exposure to a specific fragrance paired with a certain person, place, or experience can create a strong association which affects the subconscious.
• Capability to steer any sort of unwieldy vehicle—Shannon and I were frequently given the joint task of taking out the trash and recycling. This involved a giant stack of deconstructed cardboard boxes perched precariously on a cart missing a wheel and frequently some added adventure due to snow, ice, or ridiculously strong wind. Shannon would use her torso and arms to hold the pile steady while I drove the three-wheeled cart to the bins; when something inevitably flew off of our mountain, I threw myself onto the pile while Shannon chased after the rogue trash. Our little system became a well-oiled machine, and we could complete the whole process in a matter of minutes, though not without squealing due to the cold. I know the folks over at Foot Locker appreciated our nightly routine.
• Aptitude for communicating kindly to cranky people—Forever-long Black Friday lines cause customers to show their true colors. When someone who’d been waiting a long time reached my register, I’d been trained to say to them, “Thanks for your patience.” To those who’d been sighing, rolling their eyes, huffing, and puffing I enjoyed adding a bit of extra sweetness to this script because only I knew that I was being sarcastic—they’d never guess from my tone—and thus I had a bit of cathartic release from my annoyance with their impatience. On occasion my kind greeting would cause them to look a bit guilty, and I just smiled.

Though these skillz are admittedly random, I have used them time and again. My steering skillz alone have helped me out with driving a boat, a grain truck with a mind of its own, and my old Taurus when it lost its power steering in the middle of the night in Arkansas. In my current and future jobs, I’m watering the grass on my own side of the fence by mining them for both skills and skillz, and I hope you’ll do the same. You never know when they’ll come in handy.

What skillz have you acquired through a current or past job? I'd love to hear about them in the comments.

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I Heard the Bells

Several years ago I worked as a piano accompanist for a high school choral music program. Between rehearsing with the whole choir, pounding out individual vocal parts, and practicing on my own, I’d play any given song approximately 47.38 times from first run to concert performance. This overexposure endeared some songs to me and caused me to loathe others—sorry, “Seasons of Love,” it’s loathing for you.

One song I came to appreciate through this process was “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” I love this holiday hymn because its lyrics, written by the poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, have a rich historical background and speak to me personally as well, and its music, composed by Jean Baptiste Calkin, beautifully adds emotion to tell a more vivid story.

Read the lyrics of this song, keeping in mind that the tune places emphasis on the second line of each verse and finishes with a sense of resolution by the fourth. (If you need a refresher on the music, listen to this rendition by Echosmith.)

“I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”

I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat,

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men

And thought how, as the day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along th’unbroken song

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men

And in despair I bowed my head:

“There is no peace on earth,” I said,

“For hate is strong, and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,

With peace on earth, goodwill to men”

Till ringing, singing on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned these words in the midst of great heartache in his life. Several years earlier, his wife tragically died in a fire, and not long after that, the Civil War began. Longfellow’s soldier son, Charley, was shot in battle and nearly paralyzed, and it was while nursing him back to health that Henry wrote these lyrics.*

The Christmas bells that so encouraged Longfellow during such a dark season were undoubtedly church bells, and I imagine that hearing them was so comforting to him because they reminded him of the teaching he’d received within the church’s walls, foundational truths that transcended present circumstances.

The litany, “of peace on earth, goodwill to men,” comes from the angels’ pronouncement to the shepherds at the birth of Christ; they were told to fear not and to receive the good news for all people that a Savior was born (Luke 2:8-11). “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.’” (Luke 2:13-14) The birth of a Savior meant peace on earth and good will for everyone, and that has remained the greatest reason for celebrating the Christmas season from Bible times to the Civil War to the present.

Longfellow certainly had reason to bow his head in despair, lose faith in the possibility of peace on earth, and be overwhelmed by the hate he observed in the world. Most of us have found ourselves in a similar spot at one time or another, whether due to the turmoil we’ve seen on the news or the turmoil we’ve experienced personally through broken relationships, loss, and unfulfilled dreams. As implied in the song, it can be tempting to think that God is dead. Or for those like myself who remain convinced that God is alive, it can be even more tempting to believe that He is asleep at the wheel, snoozing on the job. I’m comforted by the same words in which Longfellow found solace:

“I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip—He who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you—the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm—He will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” (Psalm 121, emphasis mine)

This Christmas season, let the music and traditions remind you of some transcendent truth you may have forgotten about—such as the truth that whether in this life or the next, the wrong will fail and the right prevail (2 Corinthians 4:16-18). Even if you’re skeptical about the Bible, read a few chapters and see if they have something to say to your modern life; let its words bring you comfort that’s outside of yourself—of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

In what truth are you finding comfort this Christmas season? Tell me in the comments.

*Biographical info taken from Come Let Us Adore Him by Robert J. Morgan.

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