If You Were A Decoration: Celebrating the beauty of our differences

 

God has given each of you some special abilities; be sure to use them to help each other, passing on to others God’s many kinds of blessings. Are you called to preach? Then preach as though God himself were speaking through you. Are you called to help others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies so that God will be glorified through Jesus Christ—to him be glory and power forever and ever. Amen.

—1 Peter 4:10-11 

As we were winding down our First Place 4 Health virtual session, our leader Annie explained her idea for our celebration class, “I thought it would be nice to celebrate each other. I’d like to compile statements from each member about each other member to share in our class…thoughts of how you have been touched, inspired, encouraged, what makes them special, or what God given talent you see in them. I thought this would be fun and heartwarming for our group.”

In keeping with our usual discipline, Annie chose a Scripture for us to memorize this final week of the session, 1 Thessalonians 5:11: “So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing.”

I began typing my thoughts about each of the eleven women when an idea sparked. Could I do something more? What about a poem for each one?

Inspired by an activity from a long-ago Christmas party, I started with the same opening lines, “If you were a decoration hanging on my tree, this is the decoration I think you’d be.” I pondered over each lady, then completed the verse by entering a decoration that I hoped encapsulated her special characteristics. For our lovely golden-haired leader who always exudes the joy of the Lord, I wrote:

You would be a bright gold star

Hanging on the highest limb

To lead and point

Our group to Him 

I Am Peculiar: How are you using your unique qualities?

But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should shew forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light

—1 Peter 2:9 KJV

Today was Holiday Character Day at school. I dressed up as Rudolph and donned a glowing red nose. I was a peculiar sight indeed and people took notice of me.

I remember the story of Rudolph and how he was born with an undesirable red nose. His father tried to cover it with a fake one because he didn’t want it to limit Rudolph’s future opportunities.

Sometimes we may try to hide our own unique qualities. But God created us with gifts and talents for a reason. We are born to stand out, even more so as Christians.

If you know the story of Rudolph, you know that the red nose he tried to hide was the very thing that Santa needed on Christmas Eve. It was Rudolph’s red nose that led them through the foggy night.

Our unique qualities may seem peculiar to other people, our faith too. But that might be just what God uses to get their attention, for those who are lost need a light to lead them through the fog and onto Jesus.

Dear God, thank You for making me the way You did. I know You have a purpose for my talents and peculiar traits. May I never hide them, but be ever faithful in offering them for your service. You called me out of darkness; now may I shine my light to lead others out as well. Amen.

How Long, O Lord?

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?

—Psalm 13:1

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” I echoed the psalmist’s cry, as I prayed once again for the same prayer requests I’ve prayed for twenty years.

“Don’t you know how old I am, how long I’ve waited, Lord?” I reminded Him, while I sipped my coffee at the kitchen table, staring at the wall.

I’m talking to a wall.

“Lord, that’s how I feel! I feel like I’m talking to a wall!” I blinked back tears.

I blinked again. What’s that? I wondered, as my eyes focused on a shiny spot on the wall. A handprint.

That must have been left by my one-year-old grandson, Javier. I figured.

But why hadn’t I noticed it before? Javi hadn’t been at my house since Christmas.

Queen Anne

I knock.  No answer.

I knock again. No answer.

Please let me in!

Still no answer.

I turn the knob.  It’s locked.

I bang the door with my fist.

I push.  I lean.

I press into it with my shoulder—hard! 

Finally it flies open!

And I fall

headlong into a sun-splashed foyer,

your strong arms wrapping me in

an embrace, welcoming and soothing

as warm silky bath water.

Somehow I know this is where

I belong, this is where

it all began.

My heart swells, my throat constricts,

I don’t know whether to yell or cry. 

All I know is this is what I’ve been waiting for,

my flesh craving,

my soul longing.

You link my arm and lead me down your hall

lined with long-stemmed Queen Anne’s lace,

while tiny ballerinas in tissue-paper tutus twirl

and flutter about me like attendants to

Queen Anne herself.

Your cushiony carpet squishes between

my tired toes, as you

gently guide me to an open door—

my chamber you’ve adorned with

aromatic red roses, vibrant zinnias, flaming lilies—

a myriad of colors, making my eyes

dart from side to side.

I scarce can take it in!

Red, white, blue—

your glory flag waves from the corner.

I nod back—

it flaps again,

directing my attention.

There it is!

Inviting me to sit and sway

to your music medley,

a familiar orchestra, familiar tunes,

kindred voices,

melodic highs, deep-throated lows.

My soul sings along

and the rocker lulls my spirit like

a mother’s lullaby to her restless infant.

Your breath cools my cheeks and

plays with my hair, swooping it from my face.

You refresh me with your bountiful basket of

harvest—mouth-watering melons,

chin-dripping peaches, and plump blackberries

that explode on my tongue!

Come, you beckon,

pulling me to my feet.

And we parade, arm-in-arm,

breathing in

sweet-smelling hay and

unmistakable honeysuckle—

an ambrosial blend from

your atomizer.

You lead me to the pond,

still and serene, surrounded

by lush green growth and

a single blue heron, standing sentinel.

Suddenly, a turtle pops up his head!

Concentric waves surround, and

I peer down.

There it is!

My face,

peace washing over it,

and there you are,

waves blurring

the lines between you and me,

and I cannot tell where I end

and you begin,

for you are a part of me,

and you always have been,

my dearest, closest, truest friend,

June.

A tribute to my Creator—our Creator—the maker of all things, including the month of June with all its glory and bounty—and me, Desiree Anne St. Clair Glass, who He brought forth on Flag Day, June 14^th many years ago.

Thank You Father for Your countless gifts, including the gift of rest, as is promised in Your Word, for that is most welcome by this teacher now in the month of June. Amen. 

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

—Matthew 11:28

Wishes for Baby

Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.

—Deuteronomy 11:19

He’s coming soon and we’re getting excited.  We’re preparing and bringing gifts, for the baby boy is on the way.  My first grandson, that is. 

On Saturday we celebrated with a baby sprinkle for his mom, my daughter-in-law Tara. Some of you may be wondering what a baby sprinkle is.  Designed for mothers who already have a child and the big ticket items that go with babies but need gender-specific clothes and accessories, a sprinkle is a scaled-down shower.

This was my first time hosting a sprinkle, and I wanted to keep it true to theme—simpler than a shower.  Not a lot of over-the-top shower games, but something different.  Thanks to the Internet, I found an activity, which invited guests to write fill-in-the-blank wishes for the baby. After the gifts had been opened and the guests settled down with sprinkle cupcakes and sundaes, we took turns sharing our wishes.

The Christmas Coat

And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ

—Ephesians 4:11-12

I spotted it when pulling my winter clothes from my cedar chest—the minuscule red coat trimmed in white.  Would this fit Layla? I wondered, as I examined the aged garment I wore when I was six months old.

I knew I had to try.

I placed the freshly-laundered cloak on the bed and then my squirmy six month-old granddaughter on top. With no more than a slight struggle, I maneuvered her chubby arms into the sleeves and crowned her with the rosy hood, its fuzzy white edging encircling her cherubic face like a halo. I tightened the hood strings and lifted her up for the final reveal.

The hand-me-down Christmas coat was a picture-perfect fit!

I love hand-me-downs—and don’t mind wearing them.  I remember, as a kid, sporting hand-me-downs from my older cousins and thinking I was “cool” just like them. And then there was my mother’s wedding dress. It too was a perfect fit.  Hand-me-downs saved me money, yes. But it was more than that.  Wearing them meant wearing a part of the giver.

Thanksgiving Day Family Feud

For as the body is one and has many members, but all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free—and have all been made to drink into one Spirit. For in fact the body is not one member but many.—1 Corinthians 12:12-14

It seemed a little unorthodox to me—to watch anything on TV other than football while the Thanksgiving turkey roasted.  But the laughter erupting from the den drew me to a comfy spot between my daughter Emma and her husband Ricky’s cousin who I just met that afternoon.  It seemed Family Feud was a family favorite among my newfound family.  Everyone was shouting out answers left and right.  Before I knew it, I was adding my own to the mix.  I guess I fit in just fine.

I glanced around the room at all the smiling faces and couldn’t help but notice how diverse the group was – white, black, Hispanic, young, old.  Not the traditional family I was used to.  Nor the traditional Thanksgiving.  But things were changing in my biological family.  My aging parents were no longer up to hosting a celebration for 50 family members.  It was time for something different.  So I invited them to a celebration with my children and their families on Wednesday.  That left Thursday open for me to accept the invitation to tag along with Emma and Ricky to celebrate with his family. So here I was—now part of another family.  Truly. For Hispanics mean it when they say, “Mi casa es su casa” (My house is your house).

“Name something that is wasted,” boomed Steve Harvey, host of the Family Feud.

Endowed by their Creator

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands"--Isaiah 49:16

On this day that we celebrate our country’s independence, we may reflect on these words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Just two days ago I visited a government building in Delaware and noticed the meditation benches surrounding a sculpture dedicated to the evolution of our legal system.  Words of the Declaration of Independence are engraved on each bench.  I posed for a picture on a bench inscribed with this segment:  Endowed by their creator with.

Fill in the blank. Besides rights, what else have we been endowed with? Let us meditate on the fact that we have been endowed by our Creator with certain gifts that are to be used to fulfill His will in our lives, to bring Him glory.  What is your gift? Is it the gift of music, art, writing?  The gift of encouragement, hospitality, speaking, administration? The Master sculpted all of us perfectly for His purpose. Let us use our gifts.  Pursue His will.  Until we do, we will not truly experience Life, Liberty, or Happiness.  Let us give back to the one who gave His all for us.  The proof of which is engraved in the palms of His hands.