The Story of the Green Lion

It was 1972.  I was 11 years old. Our Girl Scout troop, which met at Fieldale UMC - my home church, was preparing for our Christmas party and gift exchange.  It was to be one of those typical children's parties where everyone was to bring a gift worth a certain amount of money.  I have no idea what that amount was, but for some of the girls in our troop it must have seemed like a fortune.  Now remember, this was Henry County, VA, where most of our parents worked hard in furniture and textile factories.  They provided for their families, saved all they could, and still took out loans for vacations and special purchases. They had a pride in their work that showed in each piece of wood that was cut, each stroke of stain that was added, every piece of yarn that was woven into a sweatshirt or a towel, and each thread of nylon put onto a spindle. 

 

The gifts were to be numbered as we placed them under the Christmas tree in the church fellowship hall.  Later, we would each have our chance to draw a number and select the gift that matched.  I have no memory of what I brought.  Before the gift giving began, our troop leader pulled me aside.  The way I remember it, she shared with me that one of the girls was not able to bring a gift that was worth as much as the others but she and her family could not afford more.  If I would accept the gift that she had brought so that she would not be embarrassed, Mrs. Wilson would bring me another gift later.  So I took the number.  What I found inside the wrapping was a ball and jacks.

 

A short time after the party, Mrs. Wilson gave me a ceramic green lion: the same green lion with a tear coming from its eye that this day sits in a curio cabinet in one of the bedrooms of my house.  Each time I look at it, I'm reminded of the real meaning of the Advent season and Christmas.  Yet this year with all that is going on in the world, I'm drawn to the tear. 

• Our Christian belief in the true meaning of Christmas calls us to love each other, no matter how much money we have or where we live.  Today, there seems to be more hatred and questioning of each other than love and certainly little understanding of differing opinions. Maybe we all need to shed a tear this Advent.

• Christmas should remind us of the necessity of honoring one another as children of God, no matter what color our skin tone or number of years of experience on this earth.  But just listen to the news stories. We're about as far away from living in community as we can get. If we’re ever to become the beloved community of God, we need to shed lots of tears this Advent.

• If the collective whole is to thrive, the unique gifts each person offers must be recognized, appreciated, and respected: whether they are gold, frankincense, and myrrh or friendship, laugher, balls and jacks.  But sadness surrounds us because we can't see the value in one another or more importantly, even the value of life as stories of violence around the world escalate.  How can we not shed tears this Advent?

• And sometimes, we have to wait, eagerly anticipating what is yet to come - just as Advent calls us to search our hearts for a few weeks as we anticipate the celebration of the birth of Emmanuel. However, as I write people are still battling with each other to get inside retail stores for the best deals on material stuff that a few weeks from now will mean little.  I wonder if Jesus is shedding a few tears over us this Advent?

I've decided that this Advent, I'm going to place a reminder from my journey of faith beside each correctly colored candle in my not-so-traditional Advent candle holder.  The green lion will be put out today.  And with it, if I can find them, will be a set of jacks with a ball.  May they continue to remind me of the most sacrificial gift I’ve ever received - God's Son - and keep me grounded in the real meaning of the season.

Make My Life an Alleluia

I was blessed recently to hear Ruth Elaine Schram's choir anthem, "Make My Life an Alleluia," for the first time.  I've found myself thinking about the second verse numerous times since then.

"Make my life an alleluia, a gift of love to You, my King.

I will join with all creation in the song that the heavens sing!

The earth will turn, and the planets spin, 

as the seasons ebb and flow;

Still, Your grace surrounds me as I go.

Lord, make my life an alleluia."

I have really found myself discerning the ebb and flow of the seasons, and how they return.  This might have a little to do with the fact that I now spend my work days focused on people who are aging, and the resulting impact that my job change is having on my contemplation of my own life course. Experiences of this week have added to all this deep thinking....

- "The earth will turn..."  I was on the Eastern Shore for a Learning Circle at the Hermitage on Tuesday.  I had just sat down to have breakfast when a familiar face appeared to my right.  There stood a former Exceptional Education teacher that I had worked with in the Henrico County Public Schools more than 15 years ago.  A reunion in the least expected place.  

- "...and the planets spin..."  During that Learning Circle, I was struck by a story shared by one of the participants.  He told us about both of his grandmothers who would tug on their gray hair and say, "You don't get this by being stupid."  I had to stop momentarily and consider how God's grace has sustained me to this point of gray hairs and the amazing people of generations before me who have mentored me by their wisdom and experience.  

- "...as the seasons ebb and flow..."  I was at a conference in Nashville several weeks ago when a woman asked if she could join the three of us who were sitting together.  As she introduced herself, I realized that she was the woman I had been sharing emails and telephone conversations with for 6 or more years as part of my service on the SEMAR Board of Trustees for the Southeastern Jurisdiction of The UMC.  Through all those years, we had never met, but suddenly in Nashville, we found each other.  She asked before leaving if she could take a selfie with me just to prove to all the others she worked with that I really did exist.  Today, one of her coworkers who had been in on many of those same emails and phone calls, called our office asking for the development person.  He got to me, and we talked as if we had known each other for years - not just as faceless voices, but true friends. 

God's plans, not mine.  God's timing, not mine.  God's grace: thank God it's mine! Now if my life can just be an alleluia, a gift of love in return.