Be Not Afraid
“Be not afraid. I go before you always.”
“Be not afraid. I go before you always.”
I rose before the sun to the chorus of this hymnal playing in my thoughts on the morning following the request to choose songs for my dad’s funeral. In its repetition, there was a familiarity to the repeated verse, though nothing I could think that gave me reason to know it.
“Be not afraid. I go before you always,” it continued.
I didn’t want to forget the line. I made myself keep saying it until I could search the internet exactly as I was hearing it. It repeated.
In my curious pursuit, my heart was instantly touched at what the search revealed first. What God must have tucked away in my heart. “A traditional Catholic hymnal.” We had been thinking of songs to play, of course. It had been requested of us. We had been thinking of many of our songs. We just couldn’t think of Dad’s.
I was quick to tell Mom my discovery, who assured me Dad loved that song. He did? He knew that song? She affirmed they both did.
“You shall see the face of God and live.”
Our family’s legacy of faith began with Dad in the Catholic Church. As early as an altar boy, he had felt a duty of protection. A duty that never left him. The lyrics to this hymnal speaks of our Father in heaven, but what I know to be true is that it speaks of my father on earth. God has revealed Himself to us in a collage of ways.
I’m confident it was in my father.
I hear him.
Be not afraid.
I go before you.
Always.
Isaiah 43
Mustard Seed
The doors in the center of our home are mustard yellow.
The doors in the center of our home are mustard yellow.
They were painted as such to purposely represent the parable of the mustard seed.
“The Kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed. It’s the smallest of all seeds. It’s the seed that becomes the largest of all garden plants and grows into a tree where birds come and find shelter in its branches.” (NLT)
Our home is our mustard seed.
I’m always amazed at whose hearts God chooses to assemble here. We host adult home groups and high schoolers on varying days each week. The differences are in ages, circumstances, conditions and convictions. On the occasions that we meet, the common seed at the center of them all is Christ. And to see Christ represented in this way reflects a picture that we have hanging, “Let His glory fill this home.” It helps me visualize His reflection. It helps me see His image when the body of Christ gathers together.
It’s in companionship where we grow best.
In a similar kind of way, outside our home we’ve started a garden. What we are discovering is that a better harvest is a result of companion planting. It provides a favorable habitat and a far greater environment. It helps control threats to the growing process and increases the likelihood of reaping what we sow. There are practices as a result of knowledge passed down through the generations. Isn’t it interesting that Jesus appointed 12 apostles to be His regular companions. They were to accompany Him by His side before He sent them out.
It’s how the Kingdom of God grew.
When we gather, we hope to grow.
It’s by faith,
the size of a mustard seed.
Matthew 13:31
Matthew 17:20
Mark 3:14
White as Snow
It’s white as snow today.
It’s been zero degrees.
Zero.
That’s nothing!
It’s white as snow today.
It’s been zero degrees.
Zero.
That’s nothing!
It feels like more than nothing, though.
I’m sitting here warm as can be under my blanket in my heated home with a fireplace that has remained active all day. This first covering of snow for the season has a beauty to me that none can compare. God releases these white flakes from His storehouse. He directs them to fall on the earth. He sends them down like white wool. White as snow.
What a beautiful rendering of that today.
White as snow describes an angel’s clothing.
White as snow describes God’s head of hair.
White as snow describes the color our scarlet sins are made.
This earth’s winter costume change can be a covering that all is right with the world from my comfy cozy chair and my white as snow view. But, what’s underneath is still there. What a lavish prompt to be inspired that we are made just as clean as this freshly fallen snow. Even if we’re red as crimson.
And the snow obeys.
And so should we.
On a day like today,
may we be reminded.
He is the way.
He covers a stained earth.
White as snow.
That is more than just nothing.
In fact,
that is everything.
Matthew 28:3
Revelation 1:14
Isaiah 1:18
Psalm 148:8
Traditions
We have this tradition right about now. We’re mere days from Christmas. And this year, just like the host of years before, we are preparing our home for this annual family celebration. More than 50 will be represented. It’s the extended-family version. This is a preparatory process that takes weeks not days. But, we know who’s coming and it brings great joy.
The spirit of this tradition is not burdensome. It is a delight. It brings us life as we work to make this home stand up straight. Inside and outside. Planning. Arranging. Preparing. All sentimental tasks to welcome in those we so dearly love.
This undertaking helps to remind us of our long-established and inherited ways. This didn’t start with us. The generations before ours began this time-honored festivity. It’s how traditions work. Somebody before us and then someone before them found it important enough to schedule this moment and extend the invitation. Over the years, calendars came in sync. The generations came.
On this day, the oldest to the youngest will be represented. It’s our gathering that is less about individual people but a treasured occasion that embodies the whole. There is a sameness amid the differences. There is an ease, a comfort, a familiarity that gladdens familial souls. Sadly, there are those who reigned in this family, yet now long gone, but it is by their legacy that this tradition still stands at all.
I hope you have such an event. A celebratory occasion. It’s not too late. Small or big is not the distinction. Nor is what you have or what you have not.
With those you love,
and all that brings,
find reason for hope
in which to cling.
With one or more
let those hearts sing
the tradition to this season.
Behold,
Our coming King.
Luke 2