The Songs Matter

We've begun our fourth year in the empty nest. I think we're navigating it pretty well. We love it when our kids are home. We love it when we're just two. It's all good.

Except in December. Here's the problem. In order for all the traditions to happen, it takes a whole month. All the songs that need to be heard (usually in my car on the way to everywhere), all the movies that need to be watched (have I mentioned my extensive Christmas DVD collection?), all the books to be read (not enough days in December for that even if they were home), etc. cannot be observed when they are only home a day or so around The Big Day. It makes me whiney.

I knew last year was the final of its kind when Ben and Ally would be home for at least three weeks. Now they've joined their older brother and family whose time is limited since he became a grownup.

It's just not as much fun watching all The Santa Clause movies without their commentary and laughter. How can I read aloud their childhood Christmas books without the eye rolling and sighing as I giggle or cry through them? I miss hearing them sing with gusto (or falsetto in Ben's case) Karen Carpenter's endless glorious riffs.

Last and most important, I miss our daily Advent traditions which evolved with their maturing. 

What's an overachieving, overzealous, overenthusiastic, overexcited, overdramatic, overeverything mother supposed to do with that? How do we keep it going now that they are in their 20's?

In an Advent reading this week, the subject was the importance of the songs. The sacred songs of old. The ones we only listen to this time of year. You know the ones. They reflect the glory of the story. 

One of my expectations (ok, rules) for December in our home was that we ONLY listened to Christmas music. Nothing else. I still try to enforce this, but am quite sure it's not happening to my liking. 

So the other night Scott and I were driving home from our small group, enjoying some favorites. Songs I'm pretty sure no other normal kids were subjected to. The ones, frankly, that I discovered after coming to faith in Jesus as an older teenager. New to me and enchanting as a new believer. (Think Sandi Patty, Michael W. Smith, 4Him, the Carpenters)

While we were belting The Form of Man by Bryan Duncan (look it up if you don't know it-you'll thank me) and killing it by the way, a thought came to me: I'll send the kids a song everyday that they've listened to all their lives but am certain won't be found on their own playlists. Ones that will provoke a family memory - remind of a part of the Greatest Story - bring a smile and/or maybe even cause a moment of thanks and worship. 

Yes, brilliant!

I floated the idea to them. Of course there was a little sass (expected), but as usual, they agreed to their mother's latest shenanigans. (Side parenting note - just because they roll their eyes, make fun of you or push back a little doesn't mean you shouldn't try (or insist). Sometimes a little Italian guilt helps too.)

As I'm choosing a song each day, naturally it's doing a work in my heart too. I do expect to add some silly to the sacred selections but I mostly hope that one of the outcomes is that we each sing the song to the Lord. That it would stand out from the culture's holiday noise and distraction.

"The angels, as they sang their glory song that night, began the singing of of a glory song that would never end. God's people have penned and sung glory songs ever since. Whenever and wherever they gather, they sing together of the birth, the life, the death, the resurrection, the promises, the presence, 
the power, and the grace of Jesus. Around the world, the precious truths of God's most wonderful gifts to us, the gift of His Son." Starting with the angels who sang over the manger.

Later in the Bible, the book of Revelation, we hear those who've passed to heaven singing their glory songs with the angels. "One day we will join that multitude, no longer looking forward in hope but looking back with the security of redemption accomplished, and with the angels and the saints of old we too will sing glory songs about Jesus forever and ever."

Friends, do you see it? The first Advent the angels were singing. The second Advent we will join the angels. Right now we are both looking back to celebrate the first Advent of Jesus' coming to earth AND looking forward to celebrating the second Advent of Jesus' future return to earth. It's going to happen.

And did you see that amazing line up there? "...no longer looking forward in hope but looking back with the security of redemption accomplished."

Aaaahhhh! Security of redemption accomplished. The day we no longer need hope! I can't wait for that day. Can you?

Sing the glory songs. Make them your song.

 P.S. If you want me to send you my daily choice, I will! 

If you think I'm nuts, disregard!

*Quotes from O Come Let Us Adore Him by Paul David Tripp

Bringing Wonder Back

"What has captured the wonder of our hearts will control the way we live."

Wonder.

It's a Christmas word I think. You hardly hear or read it any other time of year. Some might consider it a fluffy, whimsical expression, but it always makes me stop and consider what fills me with wonder.

When I read the quote above this morning out of the Advent devotional I bought for the important men in my life, something stirred.

The author cautioned that the Grand Story of Jesus entering our world to rescue us can become familiar. Familiar enough to not find wonder it anymore. God forbid.

I looked up the word familiar. And by 'looking up', I mean I asked my phone what it means (I'm so techie).

Familiar - well known from a long or close association; a close friendship; intimate.
OR
- common.

Oh. A choice. The first definition is wonder-ful. I like it. I want it. The second makes me think complacent, unimpressed, unnoticed, or worse - bored.

Paul David Tripp writes, "You are familiar with the story of the gospel of Jesus Christ because the love of God has been lavished on you." Whoa. Let's just take that in a second. Feel free to re-read. I'll wait for you.

That's the good familiar. Read on.

"But familiarity often does bad things to us. Often when we become familiar with things, we begin to take them for granted. When we are familiar with things, we tend to quit examining them. Often when we are familiar with things, we quit noticing them. When we are familiar with things, we tend not to celebrate them as we once did. Familiarity tends to rob us of our wonder. And here's what's important about this; what has captured the wonder of our hearts will control the way we live."

Is it possible for the Greatest Story, familiar to most of us, become unwonder-ful? It certainly is. I shudder at the thought. We must make it our job to work hard to prevent it from becoming so. We mustn't let ourselves or our children and grandchildren miss the Wonder.

My prayer this first day of Advent:

"Father, may the Story I will trace every December day, Your Story, make me fall on my knees afresh in worship. Open my eyes to Your Love in ways I've not discovered yet or worse-forgotten. Help me to notice You in every seemingly ordinary, mundane, unimportant thing I see and experience. Make familiar things new - like the songs and movies and books annually revisited. Don't let me miss one detail. Grip my heart with the wonder of your character and plan and Biblical truths of the incarnation of Jesus. May the extravagance of your Gift overshadow every other delight of the season. Amen."

You can pray it too. I hope you do.

PS. Nerdy detail - Prayer verbs! Verbs are so good. Live the verbs.

Quotes from O Come Let Us Adore Him by Paul David Tripp