The week sandwiched in between Christmas and New Years is a weird one. The hype over Christmas is over. The shopping frenzy is done (or at least it’s winding down). Family returns home. Decorations seem out of place. And time seems to halt in eerie silence as a new year full of the unknown stands at the door. Though there’s a sense of accomplishment or relief that one year is complete, there is also apprehension at the unknown in a new one: What do the next 12 months hold? And will I be able to handle it?

Yes, I believe we will. As long as we allow the light of Christmas to shine long after the boxes are put away. Christmas isn’t a December 25th thing. It’s a whole year thing. It’s not a Hallmark holiday. It’s a Divine Pronouncement. Earth-shattering news for which shepherds and wise men and old priests and small children had been waiting for so very, very long. News that so many still search for today.

Without a doubt, the light of Christmas holds enough power to illuminate 2009, whatever it holds. IT DOES. And, we mustn’t be selfish. The light isn’t just for us. It’s for the real people we encounter every day. From family members who greet us at the breakfast table to checkout clerks who bags our groceries. The light ignited within the heart at Christmas is meant to spill out on the surrounding darkness every day that follows. Our words, smiles, demeanor, grace, attitude–ALL of this can be a source of light and hope and connection and relationship. And our passion for living has the potential to inspire those who despair to allow the light of Christmas to change their lives with good news, too. Hope is powerful. More powerful than we realize. And if we dare to carry hope like a lantern, there’s a good chance we’ll end up shining as a beacon of real truth to real people looking for someone to illuminate their way.

How are you going to light your world this year?

Not exactly a child’s favorite memory. Still I’ll never forget it.

Our church, grown beyond capacity, needed a bigger building. The leadership decided a three-year, church-wide building fundraiser was the necessary next step. And, as part the elder team heading up the initiative, my dad believed our family should be one of the first to make some kind of monetary investment.

Made sense to me. But I was just a kid. I didn’t expect it to impact me directly. Until we sat down as a family and started to brainstorm ideas for coming up with our contribution. Cut back on allowances. Give up extra activities. Forgo restaurant eating. Small potatoes kind of stuff. With a serious expression, dad nodded at our suggestions and then challenged us to go deeper. As he explained,

sacrifice isn’t really sacrifice unless it hurts.

That’s precisely the moment we proposed canceling Christmas. Not the holiday as a whole, but the present part. After all, what could “hurt” more than giving up gifts? Of course, seconds after suggesting it, I believe both my brother and I felt tightening of our stomachs. Regret? Maybe. Retraction? No. And just that fast, we cut Christmas from our calendar. For the following three years.

Months passed before the first holiday came. The deeper we moved into December, the more our decision “hurt.” No Christmas. Weird. What EXACTLY will we do all day? As the month wore on, and child-like disappointment grew, it became clear we needed something else to invest in. After hearing of some friends in a financial bind, we set out to surprise them with the best creative Christmas we could muster, without the extra cash. And the diversion proved to be one of the most creative and fun projects we’d experienced. By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, we were more caught up in our secret surprise than the fact our own tree would remain barren Christmas morning.

The anonymous homemade gifts delivered, we returned home on Christmas Eve both inspired and content. This is what Christmas is all about. Even us kids knew it to be true. And though the experience of Christmas without gifts held its moments of disappointment and regret, we all remained convinced of it’s worth. Today I can’t recall for the life of me what might’ve gone without. The Christmas wishes of those years have long since evaporated with time. The lesson learned–and the sheer joy of giving–however, remains as clear as as if it happened yesterday.

For it is the giving—not the getting—that truly makes Christmas something to both celebrate and remember.

For a year I avoided church and her people. I sat steeped in depression, unable (or at least unwilling) to invest any more energy in hope. I couldn’t afford to risk losing more than I’d already lost. I remember someone quoting Romans 5:5…"And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts…" The words tasted bitter, and I rejected them completely. Either this was God’s idea of a cruel joke, or I was His exception to the rule. Either way, hope WAS disappointing.

Life with God can sometimes be dark. But let me tell you…life without hope of Him is darker still. This pit sucked me into its icy grip and refused to let go. Until one night, when I couldn’t take the isolation anymore, I cried out in utter despair: "I give up! I can live without understanding "why" you let all this happen. But I can’t live one more day without the hope of believing in you!"

Though answers remained elusive, God came near. Actually, He let me know in no uncertain terms He’d been there all along.

"If we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him. If we disown him, he will also disown us; if we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself." 2 Timothy 2:11-13

You see, God IS faithfulness. I guess you could say He invented it. His nature is the very essence of faithfulness, and can’t be otherwise. Think of it this way: trying to make God unfaithful is like trying to keep water from being wet. It’s impossible.

During that time of doubt and darkness, God’s faithfulness remained because it stood independent of me. Though I didn’t realize it then, He offered exactly what my heart needed most: the security of knowing no amount of circumstances or injustices will change the constancy of His faithfulness to me. This was my lifeline, and it ended up being the very thing which saved me.

Regardless of where you find yourself today, cling to the rescue of God’s faithfulness. When all else fails–including yourself–HE WILL NOT.

"I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:19-23

Ok. Back to my cantankerous-ness. I looked it up using my handy "synonym finder" and this is what it says: irritable, cranky, argumentative, difficult, and unreasonable.

Yep. That just about sums it up. The reason for my unreasonableness is simple: God has asked me to do something I don’t want to do. And the internal tension in my chest feels like Mount St. Helens about five minutes before she blew.

Here’s the deal. I’ve been hurt by someone I love. Someone I’ve known for a length of time and have shared a lot of life with. And the hurt is so real, so deep that it feels utterly inexcusable. When I first wake up in the morning, I temporarily forget. Then, a cloud of reality descends on my waking consciousness and I feel the hurt all over again. My heart aches.

I know all about the forgiveness verses. There are PLENTY of them. I realize I must forgive.  My own forgiveness (not to mention my sanity) depends on it. Still, I don’t have to play nice anymore, do I? That’s where my cantankerousness comes in. God is asking me to offer real kindness–from the heart–as a remedy for my hurt. This doesn’t feel the least bit fair and I’m tempted to protest like a toddler: "But I don’t WANNA!!!!!"

Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble. Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult, but with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing. 1 Peter 3:8-9

Ugh. Blessing, huh? (Sigh)

This too shall pass. I am pretty sure my relationship will be rekindled and life will go on, simply because similar scenarios have played out multiple times throughout my life. Why? Because long ago I made the choice to live in relationships, and relationships are messy. VERY messy. Feelings get hurt, which causes an emotional reaction. Emotional reactions typically further the hurt cycle, compounding injury upon injury. It is a vicious circle of pain which can only end with someone deciding–yes, making a CHOICE of the will–to no longer participate in the hurt-and-be-hurt cycle. The remedy? At least this time, it is what I believe God is calling me to–a simple, sincere act of undeserved kindness.

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice and cantankerousness (okay, I added this last part, but it seems to fit, don’t you think?). Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:31-32

This isn’t easily done, and I am not so naive to assume it will end like a fairy tale or topped with a nice red bow. However, I know for a fact I have hurt other people too many times to count, and have been forgiven of MUCH–even today. And though I’m feeling a little toddler-ish at the moment, the truth is I would rather live drowning in abundant kindness than take a chance at missing out on a God-sized blessing.

Yesterday I sent out an e-mail to just about every woman in my contact list.  Which is a lot.  The purpose?  To pose a few questions about true femininity.  I am incredibly curious about what you think.  Below are the questions I posed to my fellow female sojourners, and I now present to you.  I am not looking for an essay, or “proper” answer.  More than anything, I want your gut-level response.  The thoughts that immediately come to mind based on your experiences and opinions. 

You are welcome to respond to this blog with your comments, or you can e-mail me directly at michele@michelecushatt.com if you wish to keep them private.  Either way, your input will be invaluable as I search to find out what it takes to be a real woman. 

1. When you hear the word “feminine”, what immediately comes to mind?
2. What makes someone a real woman?
3. When do you feel the most feminine?  The least?
4. Do you ever feel the pressure of any societal or internal expectations regarding your femininity or womanhood?  If so, briefly describe and explain how you have dealt with it.
5. What messages do you believe we are communicating to the young girls of today about true femininity (good and bad)?

Stay tuned!  The results of this informal survey will be discussed in a future blog soon!

Jacob, do you have your lunch?  Your backpack?  Is all your homework inside, your agenda signed, the permission slips turned in?  By the way, where did you put the lunch money I gave you? 

He, of course, rolled his eyes with every question:  YES, Mooooommmmmmm!  As if it was ridiculous to even consider the possibility he might actually forget something.  Whatever.  My last question DID spark an investigation on his part, however. 

I put my money in my pocket, Mom.  The dollar bill…is…right…here. 

He dug around in his jeans, and then produced a one dollar bill.  Then he went in search of the three quarters I gave him. 

I put the quarters in the smaller pocket because I didn’t want them to fall out. 

I watched him struggle to produce the change.  Not-so-small fingers were digging, trying to pull three quarters free of an itty-bitty pocket.  Finally he gave up, frustrated, but certain they were in there.  And then with a sigh he said:

I’m going to have to get myself a Visa check card, Mom.  Life’s too short to let cash slow you down, you know?

I laughed all the way home from the school and went immediately in search of my husband, Troy.  Somewhere along the way we have allowed this kid to watch too much TV.  He is a walking commercial.  I’m still chuckling.

No doubt about it, my children are absorbing what they see and hear.  Not just from the Television, but from me as well.  They repeat pieces of my conversations back to me, words which poured from my lips without much thought, but sound far less attractive spewing from theirs.  Each day I play short but powerful commercials in the way I talk and live and react, little snapshots that communicate loudly how I feel about life, about faith and about them.  Whether I realize they are watching, doesn’t change the fact that they are.  I cringe thinking of messages I may have communicated unintentionally!

Life’s too short to let kids slow you down.

I feel a very real pain in my heart as I write this.  How many, many times have I been so caught up in “urgent” tasks that I didn’t take the time?  As my children get older, I am almost sick with the missed opportunities.  Thankfully, today is a new day, and I need not miss the next one. 

This ability to invest in the life of a child goes far beyond biology.  I wonder, do we fully recognize this?  I think about the teachers, coaches, youth leaders, babysitters, neighbors and friends who have had opportunity to invest in my children from time to time, many of whom are not parents themselves.  Thanks to them, my kids have had a few extra positive influences other than their half-crazy parents and the TV.  My heart swells with the thought!  And what about my own ability to influence other children, beyond the borders of my own home?  The teenagers I passed on the bike path yesterday or the youth who bagged my groceries at the store?  Parenthood isn’t a prerequisite to being able to make an investment in the life of a child.  With every kind word, every encouraging smile, every spoken affirmation of what is true and good and noble, or prayer lifted on their behalf, we have the unique opportunity to capture the eyes and attention of a child, in the hopes that perhaps we might be able to redirect those same innocent eyes to land on the face of Christ. 

In all the craziness of life (and parenting), we can sometimes forget our ability to be a powerful commercial for the love of God.  I believe God does just that for us, providing us with little glimpses of himself, little reminders of his goodness, in the faces of our children–pieces of his humor, his perspective, his foot-loose-and-fancy-free personality, his ability to see life from an angle so different than ours, and especially his unrestrained and unconditional love.  I?m sitting here getting all misty eyed picturing little ones climbing all over the lap of Jesus, and him responding with a smile, Let ‘em come - this is what it is all about.  Paraphrase, I know, but I think that’s what he meant.    

Okay, commercial over.  Back to real life.  Whatever you do, however, take the message with you.