Glory Days or Why We Don’t Decorate Our Tree

We don’t have a big elaborate Christmas in the Sherwood household. We put up a tree, but I’ve gotten out of the habit of putting decorations on it. I think that started about 4 years or so ago, and now it’s become a sort of strange tradition of ours. We don’t put up a lot of other decorations either. We’ve downsized gift giving, I don’t do much, if any, Christmas baking and we don’t mail out Christmas cards. Some people may be reading this and think that there is something wrong with our family. Some of you may know us and realize there is something wrong with our family, but that’s another story. Some of you may be wondering if we’re even American! But I think over the years we slowly started to feel that Christmas was becoming too hectic and it was taking the joy out of the season. It was causing us to forget what we were really celebrating.

So this has been a pretty laid back Christmas season so far, and it’s been nice. I’ve enjoyed having my girls home from college even though the amount of garbage that we have produced has more than doubled since they have come home and boy you wouldn’t believe how many Capri Suns two skinny young women can drink in two days time.

But the point of all of this isn’t Capri Suns or garbage output. I’ve been thinking a lot about gifts lately. My girls both got the same wonderful gift from their Grandma for Christmas. She got them both old-fashioned record players. Once they opened them, they headed straight for my old LPs and started playing them. If memory serves me right, the first song they played was Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days”. I got the biggest kick out of hearing them sing along and watching them dance around the room to my old record. That gift made them happy, it made me happy, and gosh, it made us all happy!

While working out in our community  I’ve had the opportunity to see some folks be very generous with their gifts. Gifts of service, charity, kindness and time. It’s made me wonder why some people take joy in being so generous. It’s certainly not always an easy thing to do. But of course it’s because these people truly realize the gift that has been given to them in Christ. They have been transformed by this and are giving out of their joy. The gift they received gave them true joy and it shows through a generous spirit in their day-to-day lives.

……… the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.

(Romans 12:8 ESV)

Drinking Glasses

There was a young lady who came to live with us a little while back. She stayed with us for about a year and then she got married and went on her way. The wedding was in our basement, which was pretty cool and something that I will always remember. Our family was blessed by being a part of this.  She and her husband are now in our small group at church, and we had our Christmas party the other night. As part of the Christmas party we have a white elephant gift exchange – you know, one of those things where everyone brings a silly gift, each person chooses a gift according to a drawn number, and then people can steal gifts according to the next highest number. For my gift I brought these “drinking glasses” that have been around my house for ages because I bought them for my niece and kept forgetting to give them to her. Drinking glasses are these glasses that you wear and use as a drinking straw. They are the PERFECT white elephant gift if you ask me. Well, I get to the party with my perfect white elephant gift and the girl who used to live with us comes up and whispers to me what her perfect white elephant gift is – drinking glasses! We both brought the same perfect white elephant gift! What are the chances of that?!

Why did we both bring drinking glasses to the party? I don’t know, except for the obvious fact that the two of us have exceptional taste, and the “great minds think alike” thing. But us bringing the same item to the party made me think about how this young lady has become part of our family. We have come to know her well. She has become a part of our lives and we have become a part of hers.

Tim and I have lived away from most of our extended family for the majority our married life. But we have learned, and pray that our children have learned as well, that family extends beyond our household. I’m thankful for all the opportunities that we’ve had to build our family by becoming part of other’s lives, and allowing other’s to become a part of ours, even if that process can be a little trying at times. Through this, we have had the true privilege of growing our family.

And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved.
(Acts 2:46-47 ESV)

My husband has a broken heart

Thinking back, I guess my husband has had a broken heart ever since I’ve known him. Maybe I used to think of it as a big heart but really, it’s a broken heart. Back when we first met there was this woman with some little kids at a gas station who had a broken down car. She needed money to get the car fixed, but she said she was broke. Tim gave her what little money he had to help her fix that car. At the time we were poor college students and didn’t have much money of our own to spare. He just saw a person who needed help, so he helped her.

When he was 40 years old, in August of 2004, we found out that he had heart disease. He seemed to be healthy one moment, and then the next he’s in the hospital getting a stent put in his heart. I remember waiting to get results from a nuclear stress test the day we went to the emergency room. The room we were in was filled with a bunch of men at least 20 years older than Tim who looked to be in very poor health. The results indicated that Tim needed some work done on his heart immediately, and I started crying when I had to sign a form stating the risks of open heart surgery, just in case he needed to have that done. This one very kind, but very sickly looking, older gentleman took my hand and told me everything would be alright. I still wonder how that man is doing.

There’s a reason I’ve started thinking so much about Tim’s heart lately. I am writing this on the day before Thanksgiving 2011. We got test results back yesterday that indicate that Tim possibly has another blockage in his heart. Being the holiday weekend, we have to wait until Monday to talk to the cardiologist to see what the next step is. If there is a blockage, I’m thankful that it was caught early so it can be taken care of. I still, however, don’t like to hear this news.

I am not happy about the broken heart that my husband has due to heart disease. If I had things my way, I would make that disease go away today. But I am happy to see Tim’s example of another kind of a broken heart. He hasn’t changed at all since we first met. He still steps in to help those in need, even if that help ends up costing him something in the end. And that cost isn’t always finanicial, but is often offered as time taken out of a full schedule, lending a helping hand when he’s tired himself, giving a kind word when I know he’s had a bad day, opening up our home when the fact is he’s a pretty private person by nature, or doing just whatever needs to be done. He does this because he has a heart that is broken for those who are in need or are hurting. I’m grateful to be married to a man like this.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

(Psalm 147:3 ESV)

Waiting Stinks

Sometimes waiting just stinks. You know those kids who like to find and open their presents before Christmas day? I was one of those kids. When we first got married, my husband would make sure to hide any gifts that he didn’t want me to open until just the right time because I would worry those presents until I figured out what they were. When I’m reading a book I like to read the last few pages first. When I made this delicious apple pie the other day I probably should have waited a few hours to let it cool before I cut it, but it smelled so good that I didn’t. It burned my mouth a little, the pie fell apart because it was too hot, the flavor probably wasn’t quite as developed as it was going to be once it cooled, but boy that warm pie tasted good….I think you get the picture here.

But sometimes waiting really stinks. In all of the instances above the waiting really wasn’t all that bad. It’s easy to flip to the end of a book and read the last page first, cut a delicious slice of too hot apple pie straight out of the oven, or find wrapped presents, carefully cut the tape, and rewrap them so they look as if they’ve never even been opened (not that I’ve done this before.) Really, that kind of waiting is a little fun. But there is another kind of waiting in life that is hard. It’s a type that we’ve all experienced, or probably will at some point or another. It’s when your child was supposed to come home at 10:00 pm and now it’s 2:00 am and they’re not answering their cellphone. Or when you were supposed to hear back about that job you interviewed for and they keep putting you off. Or when you took that important test and you’re waiting to see what your grade is. Or when you or a loved one is struggling and you’re working to get out of it but things just don’t seem to be changing. It’s that kind of waiting that is hard.

Waiting stinks. I don’t like it. I would love to be able to tell you that I go through times of waiting worry free, but that would be a lie. If it were possible, I would write a profound blog instructing you on how to manuveur through times of waiting without a care, but as of yet, I haven’t been able to accomplish that myself. But I am very thankful that I don’t have to rely on myself, my own wisdom, my own strength and especially my own patience when I’m going through life, especially when struggling with difficult times. Times of waiting remind me of my own weaknesses, and this makes me so grateful that I don’t have to rely on myself. There are many verses about worry and anxiety in the scriptures, and I would encourage you to look them up if this is one of your struggles. They have been a real help to me, and I rely on them greatly during times of trials. But I really love the verse I’m including here because it is a daily reminder that as Christians, Christ is our strength. When I find myself at my weakest, I am the most thankful for this.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

(2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV)

Tim’s idea about talk from lunch today

It is possible that I am married to the smartest man in the world. Now there are other women who might make this claim. But some of you reading this may know my husband, Tim, and can attest to the fact that he is a pretty sharp guy. Today we were having lunch with our dear friends the Holloways, who are currently in the process of becoming missionaries to Africa. Usually when we get together our discussions become lively and at times, a little loud. Maybe it’s just me who gets loud, I don’t know. Today during our discussion Tim gave me an idea for a blog. Actually he said that if he wrote a blog, this would be his topic. The chances of Tim writing a blog are slim to none. He wrote one once, but that was only because he had to. This is me writing Tim’s idea for a blog. If this were him writing, it would be less wordy and more to the point, but it’s not. I like to ramble and take little trails off the main road. He does things more in a straight line. But on to the main point!

What did we talk about at lunch ? People prefer to talk about what they’re going to do rather than do it. And sometimes we confuse talking with doing. I’m telling you right now, Tim would have said that in five words or less. Tim is right, of course. For example, I’ve been talking about going back to school for close to 6 months now. I have chosen a school and program. All I need to do to is start the paperwork. But I’m acting as if talking is doing. I keep telling people I’m going back to school, but the fact is, I’m not going back to school until I enroll. Talk means nothing. My words don’t mean anything until I put some action behind them.

On social media you see “post for 1 hour if you know someone with …..” These often touch my heart because I frequently know someone with “……”I realize that perhaps the point of these posts is to raise awareness for the disease or affliction mentioned. But it makes me think that perhaps at times we feel that by saying we have sympathy for a person, or group of people, who are hurting we are actually doing something about it. Again, we are confusing talk with action.

Sadly, I believe this sentiment has bled into our churches. We have study after study where we discuss the teachings of Jesus. Then we have another study. It seems as if we feel that by studying these teachings and by talking about them enough, we are actually doing them. Instead of applying the teachings within our churches and outside our church walls, we go to another study.

I love my husband. He is a good man. I hope what I wrote conveys what he meant to say. I would encourage everyone to take a look at their lives, stop talking about that one thing and start doing. You do that, and I’m signing up for school.

But he answered them, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”

(Luke 8:21 ESV)

What I learned about food this week

I like food. I grew up in a family that liked to eat. Some of my best memories revolve around the big family meals at my Grandma’s house when we would set up a long line of tables down the one large room that she had in her small house, fill those tables with food, and eat until we couldn’t eat anymore. Then we would take a break and eat again. There were always lots of mashed potatoes at those gatherings and as far as I’m concerned, that’s about the only food that you need to make a meal complete. My husband always says that in my family we are talking about what we are going to eat for lunch while we are eating breakfast and he’s right. Growing up, we often had people over for dinner, and when anyone was sick or in need, the first thing we did was fix them a meal. So food has always been a big part of my life.

I suppose I have carried these things into my adult life. I have found myself having people over for meals, even though I’m not a great hostess – Martha Stewart has nothing to fear. Dinner guests will tell you that I can’t set a table or organize anything. You will probably end up getting your own plate out of the cabinet or drink out of the pantry. When someone is sick, the first thing that comes to my mind is to make them something to eat. If you walk through my door, I will automatically want to feed you. It’s part of my nature.

So I am happy to help Streetwise with the ministry of feeding folks in need with both spiritual and physical food. Streetwise has a food pantry, and there are many people who work to keep this ministry going. Those who donate to help fill the pantry, organize the pantry, put the food in boxes to be handed out to people, and the list goes on. I, along with others, deliver food to those in need during the week. We get to know some of the people that we visit, and there’s one man who I’ll call “Bob” (but that’s not his real name), who’s become one of those. Bob lives alone, his apartment is in poor repair, and he doesn’t seem to be in good health. We make a point of visiting him every week to take him food, but some weeks he asks us to give his food to the people who live across the way because he feels that they need it more than him. We usually try to get him to take a loaf of bread anyway to put in his freezer “just in case.” This past week when my friends and I delivered food to Bob he wanted to show us his appreciation. He had collected pecans from the trees outside his apartment and he gave us a bag of them to take home. He had also given a few bags of pecans to the group who had taken him food the previous week. Now, to me a bag of pecans doesn’t seem like much. But as I listened to Bob, he indicated that he was pretty happy for the food that we brought him because it would be nice to eat something besides pecans. Giving us those pecans was a real sacrifice for him, since I believe that was much of what he had eaten for the past week. And the food that we had delivered to him this week was just chips and Little Debbie cakes.

I am thankful to be able to feed people in my home. It is a joy to bring that type of fellowship into our lives. I am also so blessed to be able to help feed those in the surrounding community through Streetwise. People come together and fellowship over food. We comfort people who are hurting by giving them food. We show generosity to people through food. This week, Bob taught me lessons about sacrifice, gentleness, kindness, and gratefulness by offering me some of his food.

He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.

(John 21:17 ESV)

A little girl taught me a big lesson about light when I was passing out food

I live in a very nice home in a large “golf-club” community in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia. While there may be some neighborhoods around that are more upscale, ours isn’t too shabby. Our house isn’t the nicest in the sub-division, but it’s not on the low end either. I would say it’s somewhere in the middle. I have enjoyed living in this house. It’s too big for just Tim and me now, but we sure have made good use of it over the seven or so years that we’ve lived here. We’ve raised up our girls, had one young lady stay with us for awhile who’s now become like our third daughter, had wedding in our basement (!), had some pretty lively discussions on our screened in porch (if those walls could talk), and had more people over than I can count. But even though I love my house, and even though we’ve done some great things in it, I always try to remember that there’s a big world out there beyond my home.

At this point in the blog most writers would start quoting statistics. Not me! I always hated statistics in school so I’m not going to bother. Instead, I will tell you what I see. I think by looking around the area where I live (and most of you who live in upper-middle class suburbia can attest to this), I can tell you that I see a lot of nice houses and well-dressed people. I also see some nice cars driving around. What I don’t see is a lot of obvious poverty. However, if you take your car out for a drive, you might be surprised at what you find. Poverty is everywhere. You really don’t need to look all that hard to find it. It’s even in the backyard of the really nice golf-club community where I live.

I work with a wonderful organization called Streetwise Georgia. They work in our community to help folks in need by offering spiritual as well as physical assistance. On Thursdays a group of us go to a nearby area to pass out food for Streetwise. We’ve been visiting this area for awhile, so we’ve all built up some relationships with the folks there. This past week I was visiting a family who had just moved from one apartment to another. While I was in the home, a little girl who lived there was jumping up and down with excitement as I was talking to the adults in the room because she had something she wanted me to see. Finally, the adults stopped talking and she got to show me what all the excitement was about. In the bedroom that she and her mother shared, on a small table next to the bed, was a lamp with a purple lampshade. We all had to stand in the room while her mother turned the lamp on. When the lamp lit up, the girl got excited and started jumping up and down, her excitement spread to me, and I started jumping up and down, too! Next, we turned the overhead lights off in the room and turned that bedside lamp on again. Imagine our excitement then!!! Now, it doesn’t take much to get me animated about things. One time my husband asked me if I was thirteen. As I considered this, I thought he probably should have taken that number down to nine, or maybe seven. I have a batman and superman figure on the dashboard of my Jeep just because it makes me happy. I like working with the youth in my church. Sure, I like working with the young people, but this also lets me do things like play Jenga, Pretty Pretty Princess, Candyland, and color in coloring books. But seeing that little girl’s reaction over that light created a different type of joy in my heart.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that girl and the light in her bedroom ever since. I could talk about how she was living in a very needy area, didn’t have much, but was happy with a light, and what an example that should be to all of us – especially since many of us have children who have loads of toys, electronic gadgets, etc… and seem to take them for granted. But that isn’t what has stuck with me. What has stuck with me is how in an apartment that was once a chicken coop, a little girl and her reaction over turning on a light brought real joy to my heart. She also made me think about the true light, and what an impact it has on a person’s life. It has made me hope and pray that I can be that kind of a light to others.

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

(Matthew 5:14-16 ESV) 

I have done mission work overseas as well as here in the states. I have so often found it to be the case that when we are sent to help others, we are oftentimes the ones who are helped, or taught, or blessed. I am so thankful for the wonderful time that I spent with this little girl last week. She taught me a lesson that I hope I always remember. A wonderful illustration of light.