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donna coulson – author and blogger |
My bonus daughter, Amanda and her husband Jarrett are visiting us here on the island this week to celebrate her thirtieth birthday, so I hope you’ll excuse me if instead of my regular blog this week, I simply share this: in hard times and great times, deep winter or sunshine, God loves you and wants you to feel His presence. The proof of this is all around us, in every eclipse, every sunset, every breath of breeze and every snowflake. Just look around!
As you may know, Philippians 4: 4-9 is one of my favorite places in the universe. There are so many reasons I love hanging out among those words. When I’m floundering it supplies me with a path to follow (let your gentleness be evident to all), when I’m scared I can go sit with God, (the Lord is near), if I’m worrying it takes me to a garden for prayer (present your requests to God). Today, I’m relaxing beneath the shade of the first nine words. “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again I say, rejoice!” If I follow these directions, I am gifted with a breathtaking, sweeping view.
Sometimes, though, that’s a big if. I read the news and I see what my friends post on social media and I know first-hand that life is hard. Lots of negatives, lots of anger, lots of pain. Very little to celebrate. It’s easy to keep my eyes on the ground and forget to look around. Maybe that’s why Philippians 4:4 tells us twice to rejoice. Count our blessings, be grateful, see the positives. Those are active verbs that demand energy and resolve. Actions that aren’t always easy to accomplish. How can I do it? Hmmm.
I was stumped for a few minutes about how to go on with this blog. I do not have the answer to this question. I really don’t. I went back to Philippians 4, though. The answer is, in fact, right there. Verse 8. Another action verb. Think. Consider, ponder, ruminate, concentrate – on a list of eight higher ideas and ideals: truth, nobleness, rightness, purity, loveliness, admirability, excellence, praiseworthiness. Okay, then. I can try that. When I encounter ugly or mean or difficult. When life is overwhelming and it seems like everything is lousy, I do have the ability to change my thinking. That action alone will help me lift my head and once again take in the panorama so that I can do what I started out wanting to do – Rejoice!
I’m pondering a question this morning. Here’s it is: Are we human bodies who were imbued with a soul, or are we souls who were imbued with a body?
One side of this coin would contend that I am human first – that is, I was conceived and then at some point a soul either began growing within me or I was infused with one (or even that there isn’t an immortal soul at all). This point of view encourages me to embrace my humanity, and celebrate my fingers and toes, and the thoughts in my head. It helps me revel at human accomplishments. (Wealth, status, inventions, progress are some of the measures.) It cooperates with our society’s ability to sanction abortion and encourages us to do research for prolonging our lives as long as possible. This perspective embraces human worth, which can encourage the celebration of beauty to the point that it contributes to the human tendency of judging the merits or detriments of others based on factors such as skin color, social status, age, stature and body weight. Thinking we are human first can elevate the wonder and importance of being human, and can encourage us to take pride in how far individuals and our species has come.
The second side of this question insists that somehow our souls existed before the moment of conception and that humanity came second. This ideation makes some sort of higher Being a given. This viewpoint encourages the consideration of the mystery and meaning of life in the context of the human experience – embracing the immortal aspects of existence and seeking worth as an eternal being as well as a human one. Accomplishments in this life are defined differently with this view, and material wealth often becomes a means to an end instead of the end in itself. Human accomplishments are considered subordinate to what God has done. Since life is eternal and the soul came first, the beginning and end of human life becomes much more sacred. This point of view also embraces human worth, defining that worth more in terms of character. The slippery slope here is that it has the tendency to judge the merits and validity of a person based on their actions in the name of Truth as well as the desire to share Truth, but defining that Truth isn’t easy. This perspective puts forth the idea that humans are children of God and proposes that the earth is not our home.
I don’t want to open up a philosophical can of worms with this, I’m not schooled enough to conclude which is the definitive answer, and anyway, I’d guess that such an argument would be never-ending as we can’t definitively prove it one way or another. But, since I’ve been considering this, I’ve realized that my point of view really can drive my whole approach to living my life. What I am considering is the practical application of each side and which point of view makes me a better human with a kinder soul. So, what do you think? Which came first, your body or your soul? How does it matter? How does thinking about this change you?
I took down our Christmas decorations on Saturday. The act of packing away the baubles: the jing tinglers and flu floopers (thanks Dr. Seuss for the proper and official names of all the stuff I hang about the house!) always makes me thoughtful. Lost in reverie as I was un-decorating a metal tree on the front patio, I met a marvelous creature – one that Dr. Seuss himself would probably have enjoyed. I nearly missed him, and if the tree had been a realistic-looking item instead of a stylized metal structure, I would have. It was a walking stick bug, about five inches long. He was calmly exploring the branches and the bright red and blue and clear ornaments hanging from the gold filigree branches. No doubt, though, he was a bit confused at why there was nothing to eat on this crazy tree. After I ran for my camera and snapped a couple of shots, I helped him down with the help of a magazine (He was actually quite easy to get along with, fragile, long legs moving gracefully across a copy of Coastal Living). I took a few more pictures before I moved him to my garden. The last time I saw him, he was dancing happily across my wandering Jews.
I went back to my job, but my mind stayed on that little creature. I did a little research (life cycle, eating habits, defenses). Marvelous. It’s unfathomable to me how much care and thought and precision went into the creation of such a marvelous bug. A bug. Just one of thousands of bugs and creatures created for this world, not to mention all the plants and flowers, rocks and sand and volcanoes. Add that to how they all blend together to live and sustain each other in harmony. Fabulous.
Let yourself ponder the depth of God’s capability. His creativity, His exactness, the extent of His care in creating this world. My New Year’s hope for you is that you feel God’s infinite and complete love surrounding you and that you can start 2019 safe in the assurance that a God who applies so much effort, time, and meticulous detail to fashioning a bug that looks like a stick offers us so much more.
Happy New Year!
We like things perfect. Christmas brings out the perfectionism in most us, I think. The perfect tree and decorations, just the right gifts with beautiful wrapping, the menu for Christmas dinner. Everything for Christmas should be, well, perfect. Except it isn’t. The government is partially shut down, fighting and ugliness increase exponentially nearly daily, some of the presents Karl ordered for me inexplicably took a wrong turn and probably won’t be on time. Sigh.
Last night we went to a Christmas program put on by the youth of our church (with the help of several others). Christmas programs, especially those involving kids, are one of those rare Christmas traditions for which perfection is not expected and the imperfections are celebrated and endearing. Last night’s program was perfect in its imperfection. A few wrong notes and a few forgotten lines all added to the terrific-ness of the evening. But the message, the true and eternal message, was as perfect as it gets.
As I watched that program, enjoying plays, skits, music, and poetry, it dawned on me that there is absolutely nothing about the birth of Jesus, except Jesus Himself, that is anywhere close to perfect. Joseph and Mary must have been miserable – away from home, no room for them in an actual room, labor pains amidst cow poop and chickens scratching. Tired and hurting, Mary has no other choice than to lay her precious newborn in a feed box so she can rest. All she probably wants is a warm shower and a good night’s sleep. Then, in walks a group of smelly strangers, shepherds. Remember, I spent time around sheep this summer, I know how bad sheep smell…yuck. Add that to the political weather – Israel is under Roman rule. The leaders are corrupt and dangerous. Their world pretty much sucks and there seems little respite coming their way.
Except. The child. Mary looks at His tiny hands and remembers the assurance of the angel’s voice, she listens to the shepherds describe the scene they’ve just witnessed: legions of strong, shiny, heavenly warriors singing praises to God on the prairie as they proclaim the Savior’s birth. I’m thinking they all were able to forget the deficiencies and trials and complications in the face of such wonder and grandeur and yes – perfection.
Merry Christmas to all. May we all see past the struggles, worries, the flopped recipes and crooked bows, the wrong-sized gifts and the idiocy of our politics and focus on the perfection we’ve been given.
If you saw my blog right after Thanksgiving, you will remember that I shared my love of cheesy Christmas movies. I’m happy to report that we have been taking full advantage of the season, and have watched at least a dozen uplifting and enjoyable holiday films. That doesn’t count the six or seven that we started watching, but they were awful and we turned them off. And, joy! Since we are still a week and a day from Christmas, there’s more to come.
Indulging in this guilty pleasure, does bring me guilt, though. Karl and I watch TV together, so he has been a real trooper, hanging in there to watch with me. So, yesterday I got to wondering if there are any ‘manly’Christmas movies. The first to come to mind was “The Santa Clause” with Tim Allen – he’s a manly man, so it follows that his movies aren’t pegging the Chick Flick Chick Meter. But then, I remembered a movie we haven’t watched in a very long time and I began to wonder… could it be? Is it really a Christmas movie? Hmmm. It is set on Christmas Eve. There’s a Christmas party, a tree, music. (Also machine guns, rocket launchers, blood…) In my earlier blog I described Christmas movies as: “The plots are simple. Someone is unhappy. Usually he or she comes home or is called home but it’s not where she (or he) really wants to be. Then, because of the magic of Christmas and some hot guy or girl (often an old flame but not always), minds are changed, the ending is happy, love is in the air, and Christmas comes peacefully and with a beautiful snow shower at the perfect moment.” So, last evening, we set out to explore the true nature of this classic movie.
Yes!! This movie fits! The Bruce Willis character lives in New York. He goes to LA to see his kids and estranged wife. He doesn’t want to be barefooted and on the run in a broken glass filled high-rise office building chased by terrorists (added proof this is a Christmas movie – the bad guy’s name is Hans Gruber – the guy who wrote Silent Night is Franz Gruber…crazy huh?) But the main character loves his wife and wants her back. And,the ending is happy: all the bad guys, including two really arrogant and creepy FBI agents, are dead, the main character is welcomed into the arms of his wife and love is rekindled, and it is snowing (well, they are bearer bonds that have been sucked out of the building, but they look like snow). Die Hard ends with a kiss. Perfect! Add that to the smile on Karl’s face when he didn’t have to watch “Crazy for Christmas” instead…Priceless!
I’ve mentioned before that I am a list maker. I love lists. Lists are the epitome of organization and good intentions, they celebrate progress, they are kind taskmasters. I like checking things off lists, it makes me feel powerful and helps me know that I’ve accomplished something. Normally I have at least five lists going at any one time:
If I get serious about making a list of my lists, then I need to add my books I want to write list, my ‘bills to pay each month list’, the yearly goals Karl and I write at the beginning of each year, the list I keep of books of the Bible I’ve studied recently, the birthdays list, Christmas list, a bucket list, exercises I intend to do daily (but rarely actually do!), and probably a dozen more.
A few weeks ago, in the middle of a sermon, Pastor Marthious gave me a challenge for a new list. His suggestion wasn’t a main point of his sermon, just a passing comment, but it stuck. He recommended we should have “To Be” lists. I’ve been pondering this since he said it. Hmmm. I know the changes I want to see in myself, the thoughts and actions I have and do but that I don’t like. With that in mind, my very first “To Be” list includes: be confident in God (and leave worrying behind), be thankful and content, be loving. I haven’t checked them off yet, and the sad thing is, I might not ever achieve them to the point of feeling like I can honestly cross them off with a definitive Done! Yet, since I wrote that list, I feel a difference. My love and commitment to lists and checking things off spurs me into trying harder to address the items on my To Be list, and it reminds me of who I want to become. It has also made me start thinking about what God says should appear on my list. Maybe the top item on my New Year’s Resolution list will be a Bible study to find the answer to that!
All you have to do is read the news to get scared and depressed. There’s so much hate out there. Name calling and hard hearts, selfishness and finger pointing seem to be the current accepted problem-solving protocol. If the ugliness was just among politicians and late-night radio talk shows, we could ignore it. Instead of discussing issues and hashing out solutions, anyone brave enough to stand up for a differing view quickly and unmercifully becomes a pariah. Instead of communication, the accepted reaction to dissenting views has become savage, brutal attacks, mostly verbal but certainly sometimes physical, without hesitation or filter. And, this practice of foregoing the conventions of polite conversation and expression has permeated every part of our society. Even family ties no longer obligate members to respect, understanding, or grace.
Right now, trying to address and improve the problems our country is facing, because of this unmitigated infusion of abhorrence and loathing for anyone who has a differing (conservative!) opinion or view, seems like trying to make bricks without straw: difficult work with horrible and disastrous long-term effects. Moses would understand this perfectly. He witnessed it first hand. In all fairness, what Moses wanted to do was stay far away from the fray and lay low. I understand his plan. I can easily delete my news feeds and block what I don’t want to be subjected to and spend more time with a snorkel on. God, however, had other plans. He hounded Moses until the man returned to Egypt and then cajoled and pushed the reluctant human into obedience. When Moses’ first efforts to make things better were met with more ugliness and added strife, he was ready to give up. He went back to God and told him that what he’s done so far had only made matters worse. It’s God’s answer to Moses at this point that gives me comfort and courage. In Exodus 6: 1 God answers Moses with the best promise of hope. He tells Moses: “Now you will see what I will do!” How cool is that? God knew that life was a train wreck for all of the Israelites. He knew it was hard. He knew of the hatred and unfairness, the bricks without straw. With that sentence I can just picture God’s smile as he rubbed His hands together and answered, “Great, now watch this!!” God used the situation in order to demonstrate His mighty power. Yay!
I don’t know about you, but I find comfort in that on several levels. First, I love the reminder that no matter how sordid our world and our lives get, God is bigger – God is stronger – God is aware and can’t be defeated. The second comfort is even better: God’s got this. It isn’t up to me to solve the problems or convince the haters or even to debate it. God’s power and might are going to be revealed at just the right time and His goodness will prevail. Period. My job? To stand. To stand in obedience and speak the Truth when the opportunity arises. Name calling and reductionist attacks are hurtful, but they certainly are ineffective against God’s power. Amen.
It’s Christmas time! I love Christmas. I love knowing that my Savior took on human form. I love that He died to take my sins and He lived so that I can be assured that He understands my hurts and aches and trials.
I love Christmas for many reasons, and some of them are that this is the season for Christmas lights and vanilla scented candles and hot chocolate (yes, even in the Caribbean!), and especially – Christmas movies. Since Halloween I’ve been eyeing the lineup of Christmas movies available online and I’ve been looking forward to the guilty (though benign and innocent) pleasure of watching as many as I can fit in (and Karl will agree to!).
You know the ones I mean…They have names like Magic at Christmas, or Home for the Holidays. While I enjoy It’s a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street, those aren’t the movies I’m anticipating. Nope. I love the cheesy, predictable Hallmark ones. The plots are simple. Someone is unhappy. Usually he or she comes home or is called home but it’s not where she (or he) really wants to be. Then, because of the magic of Christmas and some hot guy or girl (often an old flame but not always), minds are changed, love is in the air, and Christmas comes peacefully and with a beautiful snow shower at the perfect moment, the ending is happy.
I admit they are unrealistic, but even so, I love everything about these movies. I love the predictability – no stress. I love the forgiveness, the growth, the grace and mercy that are always the themes. I love the happy endings.
Hmmm. But really, are they unrealistic? Don’t be too quick to claim “Of course they are.” In the ‘real world’, happy endings are rare and fleeting. If we think about Jesus’ life, and stop at the crucifixion, yes, Christmas movies a far cry from reality. No way dying on the cross is a happy ending. If I consider what I have to look forward to in the next twenty or thirty years – getting older, body parts getting stiff and wearing out, wrinkles, possible dementia, illness, dying. Nope no happy ending there. If I read the news, the world is full of hate and dissension, persecution and misunderstanding. Nope. No happy endings in sight. But. We can’t stop at the crucifixion. Jesus rose from the grave and is alive. Because of this fact, as believers, we can live a life of stress-free predictability, too. Because of forgiveness, and grace, and mercy we might not get a happy ending in this life, but we are promised an eternal happy ending with God.
Okay, then. Here’s the plan: I refuse to feel guilty for watching cheesy Christmas movies this season, I’m going to embrace them as allegories of the Christian walk and keep my eyes on the Writer and Editor of my own personal Christmas story, knowing that HE will be faithful and that I am assured the ultimate happy ending.
I love Sunday mornings. It doesn’t matter how farfy or crabby or apathetic I am, by the time the music is even halfway finished at our island church, I am all in. This Sunday was no exception, though I admit, about 4/5s of the way through the sermon, Pastor John stepped on my toes. I wasn’t happy. I mean, who wants to have their beautiful, praising God worship attitude dampened by the pastor saying something that cuts to the quick? John was preaching about Psalm 100. I have that chapter memorized, I know it, I like it a lot – so what could he possibly have said to offend me? It’s all right there in verse three: Know that the Lord is God.
On the surface, that shouldn’t be troublesome. I know that God is God, that’s what I was just singing about. No problem. Except, John pointed out that in his mind, that word know means something deep. Deeper than knowing my multiplication facts. It means to be so aware that He is God that you are willing to submit your own will to his. Then came the sentence that really got me: John says that if you are truly submitting to God, then “prayer isn’t time to give God instructions.” Ouch. My toes are flat and my heart is bruised. Yes, I struggle with being a control freak, and whether I want to admit it our not, my prayers can easily turn into a to do list for the Almighty. Yikes. In light of his wise and (painful) teaching, I am approaching this Thanksgiving and Christmas season with a new and, I hope, improved attitude along with a few major modifications to how I pray: a little more thanks and substantially less bossiness. And by the way, Pastor John, thanks!
