Change Happens

 August 25, 2025

Life is full of change. I remember when Mt. St. Helens erupted. Almost 300 miles north of the volcano, we heard the blasts, one right after the other on that May 18th morning in 1980. Recently we visited the Mt. St. Helens Visitors Center in Castle Rock. The change in topography from prior to 1980 to now is significant, as well as in plant life and animal species. Apparently the variety of vegetation and animals exceed what was there pre-eruption. 

My Bible states in Hebrews 13:8 "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever." And He is the One I'm following as we encounter changes of our own. 

More to come on that subject in the near future. You're welcome to come along on this new adventure by following this blog.

All I Want For Christmas

As a little kid all I wanted for Christmas was…Christmas!

Dad’s disdain toward the commercialism, and the dogmatic idea that it was connected to pagan influences, prompted him to ban the celebration of Christmas in our home. No excited anticipation for Christmas Eve, no countdown to Christmas morning. No Christmas tree. No letters to Santa Claus. I often wished Santa was real so I could avoid the embarrassment at school of having to answer “Nothing,” when asked “What did you get for Christmas?” No, there were no presents to open.

Well, okay, one set of grandparents always gave each of us five dollars and the other grandma gave us something, like a pair of darned socks. And I mean, darned in the sewing sense.

But besides that, our Christian home didn’t embrace any of the traditions observed by most of the people we knew, not even for the fun of it. Other than Mom’s little Nativity set up in a corner and a big dinner with relatives, the season was bereft of Advent Wreaths or church Christmas services.

But as a seventeen-year old, I discovered that the giving of gifts could not be prevented. With money saved from babysitting jobs, I got something for each of my family still living at home. Only Dad did not accept the one I got for him.

Confession time here. I admit that a bit of rebellion against my dad’s dogmatism figured into this act of good will. But the joy I felt at giving gifts gave me a glimpse into God’s delight at giving the greatest gift, His Son Jesus Christ. And a teeny tiny twinge of what refusal to accept that gift might mean to the Father of lights, the giver of every good and perfect gift. (James 1:7)

I do understand Dad’s initial stance that Christ’s birth date is not recorded anywhere and was likely not in wintertime at all and that Christmas got tied in with less than Biblical beliefs. But in later years Dad relaxed about those issues, figuring they weren’t deal-breakers, and he opened up to the season’s celebratory options. Joy to the world!  

My husband and I enjoyed establishing our own seasonal traditions, which included providing gifts for our kids and ways for them to give to each other. Their anticipation made it fun for us. Finances were of a sort that we had to keep it pretty simple, but even if we’d had more freedom there, I think low-key would still have prevailed.  

Another confession here. Even though we celebrated Christmas, I sort of did what Dad did. I got huffy when someone said “Happy Holidays” or used “Merry Xmas” as a greeting. Why did I take offense? How did those things take away the joy in my heart of knowing my sins are forgiven and that Jesus Christ reigns? By protesting belligerently, did I bring any peace and good will into the world? Later I realized holiday comes from holy day and learned the X in Xmas is the Greek letter used for Christ. Like in the ichthys, that fish symbol many use to identify themselves as Christians.

Whether my Christmas time comes with simple imagination or with elaborate trimming, what freedom there is in realizing no offense was intended.

All I want for Christmas nowadays is to be joyous, in discovering what brings delight to others and to God’s heart. 

Can’t Drive Out the Way We Drove in

Ezekiel is a fascinating book in the Old Testament. Hey, you might call it weird. I call it fascinating. There’s room for all of us here.

I love that it is full of imagery and instructions for building the Jewish temple and lots of the religious activities. The other day as I was reading I was reminded of the car license plate holder my daughter used to have. Okay, so you’re right. That is weird.

But not totally weird—hear me out. See, there was this band she liked called They Might Be Giants and she liked one of their songs so much that a friend had the license plate holder custom made for her with the title of that song on it. “Can’t Drive Out the Way We Drove in”.

There were cars in the Old Testament, you’re asking? No, of course not. Although there was a Honda in the New Testament. You know, where it says the disciples were all together in one Accord. 

(crickets chirping loudly)

But seriously, I believe everything in the Bible means something. God gave those instructions for a reason. Most of His reasons may be beyond my comprehension in this world but I am seeing a little picture here that reminded me of that song title. The people are told in chapter 46 verse nine that when they come to the temple to sacrifice, they weren’t to go out the same way they came in. Literally in by the north door and exit through the south and vice versa. I wonder, did those people consider why God gave those instructions? I imagine some of them did. I’m talking more than just crowd control measures, although that's certainly necessary at times. I mean, here they were bringing sacrifices in worship. That had to be pretty significant. After all, sacrifice indicates giving up something valuable. So going out a different door than the one they came in seems more meaningful to me than just some weird thing.

What does it mean for me thousands of years later? Could this also be a foreshadowing of when God gave up something more valuable than anything we could ever give?

Is it possible that when we meet God at that ultimate sacrifice—His son, Jesus, giving up his life on the cross, who counted everything loss for our gain, we receive something even more valuable? I think so. In the victory Jesus Christ had when He exited the tomb, we experience the change from living death to living life. We leave that encounter a different way than we came in.

Having pretty much avoided the church scene for a couple of years and now starting to get back into it, I don’t want to go in the door of a building and come back out, same old same old. It’s my desire that my life exhibit that encounter even better than having it written on my license plate holder. Not in my physical appearance or what I wear or how many church programs I get involved in. But in how I view myself and others and God. Hope that’s not too weird.

Have you had that encounter? In what ways are you different as a result?

                                          An open gate invitation.

Matter of Manners

Please.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

Here, you can go first.

What may I do to help you?

Ah, the sounds of good manners. Of course, we can’t always use words in every situation but the attitude behind them comes through. And boy! Don’t I just want to teach some basic manners to those whose attitudes are lacking. Like out on the road. Polite just isn’t part of the motorists vocabulary, I guess.

I’ve sort of grumbled to the Lord a time or two about how mean and rude people can be. In His family even. And why do I have to forgive them when they don’t seem to be one bit sorry. Can’t I just go in there and knock some manners into ‘em? With words, of course. If you’ve read my post about the Beginning of the Shining, you’ll know how physically frail I am and how unlikely to pose any bodily threat. But I might be able to overwhelm them with words.

Oh my. Just about the time my grumbling reaches a pinnacle, I come across things like this:

“For instance, a person who has been around for a while might well be convinced that he can eat anything on the table, while another, with a different background, might assume he should only be a vegetarian and eat accordingly. But since both are guests at Christ's table, wouldn't it be terribly rude if they fell to criticizing what the other ate or didn't eat? God, after all, invited them both to the table. Do you have any business crossing people off the guest list or interfering with God's welcome? If there are corrections to be made or manners to be learned, God can handle that without your help.” (Romans 14:2-4, The Message, emphasis mine)

Still I argue. “What about how Person A ‘corrected’ Person B so rudely? Person A sure didn’t read this instruction very well, did they?”

I get a gentle re-direction to a conversation between Jesus and Peter. A concept presented while beachcombing. I can just picture them, robe hems tucked up to keep the sand from clinging. Peter picking up pebbles and chucking them out into the waves. Jesus picking up a shell, holding it to his ear, smiling. Peter telling Jesus how much he loves him. And the Lord giving him a heads up about where his head’s going to end up. Oooh. Not a fun topic. Peter looks for a diversion.

“Turning his head, Peter noticed the disciple Jesus loved following right behind. When Peter noticed him, he asked Jesus, 'Master, what's going to happen to him?' Jesus said, 'If I want him to live until I come again, what's that to you? You—follow me.'" (John 20:21-22 The Message)

Okay then. Point taken. Whenever I say, “What about THEM, Lord?” He says, “Never you be concerned about them. You and I are working on you. There’s more than enough right here for you to pay attention to. Whatever I do with them is my business and theirs. You, follow me.”

You know, I think I can see to follow Him a whole lot better when I’m not glaring over there at those ill-mannered in-process-with-Jesus-and-none-of-my-business folks.