Enjoying pictures from this past weekend along with Christmas contemplations. . .
Over two thousand years ago, the world hit an identity crisis.
The Roman Empire just kept growing bigger and bigger.
Europe, then Asia, then Africa were being sucked into its dominion.
Not even the blessed people of Israel could escape its grasp.
All of the conquered cultures melted under the power of the new rulers.
Yet Israel held out hope of deliverance.
They thought that surely this time would be right, surely the evil too great to last.
They awaited a Savior, promised hundreds of years ago, who would strike down their foreign foes.
They awaited a rescue mission.
Meanwhile, their God, the God of the whole universe, had a plan.
And nobody saw it coming.
That great invasion came in the form of a baby.
A young woman and a young man were recruited as this baby's parents.
Crazy as it was, they believed in God.
They believed He was sending help—coming personally.
But Israel's idea of rescue and their Lord Jesus' idea of rescue were two very different things.
They wanted a King to restore their nation.
And Jesus? He came to restore their lives.
He didn't even stop there—He came to restore anyone and everyone.
This incarnate God hadn't come to beat down Rome.
There was a bigger battle at play–one that had been present since the garden.
A heavenly servant had rejected God, inevitably falling to the lowest of places.
He had forgotten his mission was to glorify God, and he had turned instead to glorifying himself.
The only thing he could pursue now was bringing others to his debased state, so he insinuated self-glorification into the very beautiful world God had created.
And the world listened.
So here were cities and countries and continents full of people whose mission had gone amiss. No one could escape this new evil—sin blew around like dust, covering even those who stood upright.
But God so loved His world that He came, a little baby Jesus, to remind His people who they were.
He offered to clean them of the sin and redirect their mission.
He wanted to bring them back to Himself, back to being His children on a journey to a good eternity.
Some people would call Him crazy.
Some would say He was flat-out lying.
Others would believe parts of His story, but tell Him to keep quiet. They thought He was on a secret mission; that He was supposed to reach only selected people and stay safe in the meantime.
But this was no secret. He had come to reach every human being in the whole world.
As far as safety goes, that wasn't in the plan either.
The story of the baby and how He grew up continues.
This is really just part one of the mission. Rescuing takes time.
We'll reflect more on that rescuing when Easter arrives.
But for now, we can marvel at the arrival. The brilliant entry of God into the world of man.
~Megan
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Speed of Love
The metro train in D.C. from our experience with it in May
There is an invisible time bomb dropped Thanksgiving night
When the celebration of plenty
Gives way to a race for more
And sweet contentment
Finds a back door
Because Christmas is coming
And you mustn't be late
The calendar even comes with a 'save the date'
So we hurry to prepare
Special times and things for those we hold dear
While living in a cave of to do's and fear
We say it's out of love
That we go that speed
But, I've been wondering if that's true,
That idea I first heard in the Owl City song, Speed of Love ,
Do we really fit our speed into that glove?
Because our speed changes
While love stays the same
And makes me wonder
If passion, on the other hand, is the speed in our range
Since it is what usually fuels activity
While using love as it's guise
As passion on it's own is not of noble size
So it masquerades
Chasing possessions and wealth
Position and health
Then inevitable curves it's path
Because passion doesn't last
It has no future, though a long past
That's why it wears the vast name of love
Because love is the real power
Yet one that is only from above
It's the thing in hearts, that saved hearts
The thing we really need
For anything to succeed
It has been so very exalted
Yet isn't really understood
Despite the fact that it never wears a false hood
Passion remains the lollipop
Scoffing at the peach
Promises sweetness
Though leaving nourishment beyond reach
It remains a train without direction
Traveling with distance but no displacement
Moving, always moving
Because it's not a good replacement
So in the midst of an enthusiastic dash
To get and garnish
gather and give
I'm pondering over passion's great weakness
That it is unable to grow
That is has not meekness
And I'm thinking about what actually can move upwards
Real love
The kind that creates a world and a cross
I'm trying to look beyond the blur
Of lights and intrigue
Of people running after the least-broken love they can find
To try and see the thing that can bind
Because there is only one sun
There is only one Son
And if your chase is after that finish line
After celebrating that little baby manger
After a life of growth
Then you will get a gentle shove
Into going the beautiful speed of love
Blessed speed to you~ Megan
Friday, July 20, 2012
Becoming Real
""What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day. . . "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.
"Sometimes, " said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"
"It doesn't happen all at once, " said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." "
-From The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
One week from today is opening night for our ballet performance of The Velveteen Rabbit. I have loved the process of getting to play the Rabbit. Dancing is simply another outlet that satisfies a hunger for story. I am amazed by the path followed and emotions experienced in this story about toys becoming real. Here's the tale as it is told in our ballet version from my Rabbit point of view. . . .
I am given to the Girl on Christmas morning and my eyes are opened to a new world.
I am bullied by most of the nursery toys, then encouraged by the Skin Horse.
I enjoy fun and mischief while playing with the Girl.
I am delighted by our bedtime fun, then scared and annoyed by her nightmares.
I am happy and imaginative as we go on a picnic.
I grow wistful when I see real rabbits, ashamed of having no hind legs, and long to jump with them.
I am loved by the Girl and finally accepted by the toys.
I worry about the Girl when she has scarlet fever and am desperate for her recovery.
I am relieved when she is better, then devastated when I am proclaimed dirty and taken away.
I am crushed and reflective while on the trash heap.
I am comforted by the Skin Horse and turned Real.
I am joyful and excited to meet all the other real rabbits.
I am shocked to see the Girl again, a little older now, and overjoyed when she recognizes me.
The story now feels like my alternate life. After all, it is about a simple being who longs to be accepted and loved for the essence of who he (or she) is. To be totally real. Though it sounds strange put so simply, I wonder if that isn't the goal nestled deep in my own heart. In all hearts.
Also, just as in life, it takes work to actually become. As the Skin Horse said, it takes a long time. It takes others that can see who you really are. And, as the Skin Horse said, it sometimes hurts. It definitely does in the story. The moment when the Rabbit is dragged from the Girl is heartbreaking. Then when I lie on the trash heap, I feel like shedding a torrent of tears. But this pain is only heavy because of all the joy that's come before it. If love had never been known, its loss would not be grieved. As the Skin Horse enters the scene, much more ethereal now, I shed the tears. Off comes layers of sadness and worry and despair. I am totally stripped of complications. Only then do I, the Rabbit, become Real.
This leaves me with hope. Hope that spectacular love exists. Hope that joy is worth the pain. Hope that tears have the power to heal. Hope that we can all, one day, become real.
Blessed stories to you~ Megan
I am given to the Girl on Christmas morning and my eyes are opened to a new world.
I am bullied by most of the nursery toys, then encouraged by the Skin Horse.
I enjoy fun and mischief while playing with the Girl.
I am delighted by our bedtime fun, then scared and annoyed by her nightmares.
I am happy and imaginative as we go on a picnic.
I grow wistful when I see real rabbits, ashamed of having no hind legs, and long to jump with them.
I am loved by the Girl and finally accepted by the toys.
I worry about the Girl when she has scarlet fever and am desperate for her recovery.
I am relieved when she is better, then devastated when I am proclaimed dirty and taken away.
I am crushed and reflective while on the trash heap.
I am comforted by the Skin Horse and turned Real.
I am joyful and excited to meet all the other real rabbits.
I am shocked to see the Girl again, a little older now, and overjoyed when she recognizes me.
The story now feels like my alternate life. After all, it is about a simple being who longs to be accepted and loved for the essence of who he (or she) is. To be totally real. Though it sounds strange put so simply, I wonder if that isn't the goal nestled deep in my own heart. In all hearts.
Also, just as in life, it takes work to actually become. As the Skin Horse said, it takes a long time. It takes others that can see who you really are. And, as the Skin Horse said, it sometimes hurts. It definitely does in the story. The moment when the Rabbit is dragged from the Girl is heartbreaking. Then when I lie on the trash heap, I feel like shedding a torrent of tears. But this pain is only heavy because of all the joy that's come before it. If love had never been known, its loss would not be grieved. As the Skin Horse enters the scene, much more ethereal now, I shed the tears. Off comes layers of sadness and worry and despair. I am totally stripped of complications. Only then do I, the Rabbit, become Real.
This leaves me with hope. Hope that spectacular love exists. Hope that joy is worth the pain. Hope that tears have the power to heal. Hope that we can all, one day, become real.
Blessed stories to you~ Megan
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Starry-Eyed
We were in L.A. on Good Friday. . .
Stars abounded. . .
Fame strode everywhere. . .
The city boasted. . .
Though we crossed through one humble and genuine alley. . .
Lights flashed around every turn. . .
This was the day darkness, fake light and fame, tried to smother Him. It couldn't see that the Son will always rise. Blessings~ Megan
Stars abounded. . .
Fame strode everywhere. . .
From the city streets to the Getty Museum. . .
The city boasted. . .
Lights flashed around every turn. . .
But the real light, the real star shining?
This was the day darkness, fake light and fame, tried to smother Him. It couldn't see that the Son will always rise. Blessings~ Megan
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Peace on Earth
As this season of waiting and expectancy comes to a close, we remember again the birth of our Lord, and the wonderful fact that peace is not simply coming. . . it is here!

Continuing my gratitude list. . .
661. time to create Christmas gifts
662. playing Apples to Apples
663. dark chocolate covered cherries from Trader Joe's
664. Trader Joe's in general (their kale, granola, and cherry chocolate chip soy ice cream have quickly become staples :)
665. red and white Christmas Eve pajamas
666. Middle Sister and Youngest Sister awake early Christmas morning, chatting while they waited for the sun to rise
667. the smell of brisket in the oven
668. sisters' creativity and beautifully made gifts
669. a loom from my parents (this one, something I had seen in August and have been dreaming of ever since)
670. The Light, Love, and Life that arrived here on earth so very long ago, a gift that both brought and continues to bring peace
Peace to you~ Megan
Continuing my gratitude list. . .
661. time to create Christmas gifts
662. playing Apples to Apples
663. dark chocolate covered cherries from Trader Joe's
664. Trader Joe's in general (their kale, granola, and cherry chocolate chip soy ice cream have quickly become staples :)
665. red and white Christmas Eve pajamas
666. Middle Sister and Youngest Sister awake early Christmas morning, chatting while they waited for the sun to rise
667. the smell of brisket in the oven
668. sisters' creativity and beautifully made gifts
669. a loom from my parents (this one, something I had seen in August and have been dreaming of ever since)
670. The Light, Love, and Life that arrived here on earth so very long ago, a gift that both brought and continues to bring peace
Peace to you~ Megan
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Wonder-Full World
Many years ago a door opened between this world and that which lies beyond it.
The nut of what to do with us, His created and loved, caught in sin, was cracked.
He knew He had to send something real and wonderful to pay the price of saving us.
He knew He had to be this something, a perfect human who could represent us just as Adam had in the very beginning, and sent us promises concerning this future hope.
Then there were 400 years of silence.
We wondered when and if He was coming.
But He had everything planned out perfectly, and sent angels to a young woman and man when His time was right.
These two humble people were in awe of His majesty and condescension, not simply willing, but honored to be a part of His plan.
There was incredible beauty in a rough beginning.
It was there that the light shone through the darkness, illuminating the way back to Him.
He was this light and this light was the way.
It took time for the light to push through the darkness, the life to push through the death.
But it did and lit the world.
We give thanks that he has come and thanks that he will come again.
We give thanks that he is so much greater than anything we have ever known.
May you be filled with joyful wonder this Christmas~ Megan
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