It’s a Different Kind of Christmas

I was asked several months ago to contribute to this Teacups Blog. As usual, life got in the way. But as Christmas approaches, I really wanted to share what the Lord has impressed upon me, and what has been on my heart and mind as we enter into the holiday season. So here goes… 

On Sept 22, 2012, a huge part of my heart left this world for a place that I long to go one day. That would be Heaven. After many, many months of treatment and countless hospital stays, my mom, Ruth, went to be with Jesus. It was the end of her 8-year battle with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.  

This left me totally lost and completely heart broken. My friend, the one who I depended on for answers to all the everyday stuff that a mother of 4 boys and 7 grandchildren would face, was gone. I found myself lost and in a place that I never thought I would be. After many sleepless nights and unending tears, I needed medication just to get through the day and to be able to sleep at night. Most people would not have even known the state I was in because I was really good at hiding it. But nonetheless, I found my own personal health failing and in the end needing medical attention for myself. 

Through it all, I have had to totally depend on the One that I know and love, Jesus. I know that He is the only one who has gotten me to this point, able to somehow go on with my life. But this time of year is still hard. I know that I am not the only one who is feeling lonely at this time of year. Many of us have memories of lost loved ones that have gone on before us. But I do know that the Lord will make a way for us to endure the losses we have all sustained. 

With much prayer and seeking His face, He has turned my mourning into joy (John 16:20), and I will be facing Christmas this year with a new outlook. I have realized that my Mom left many precious memories and traditions for our family, and it has become my job and my privilege to honor her by carrying on the wonderful legacy that she left for us. What a blessing!  

I came across this song on Facebook the other day and it really sums it all up for me. This year it’s a “Different Kind of Christmas” by Mark Shultz.

Merry Christmas,

Gail Smith

My Cup Overflows

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows.”

— Psalm 23:5

---

I love Psalm 23. I picture myself lying down in green pastures and hearing the sound of water gently trickling over smooth rocks. I immediately feel relaxed. Peaceful. Safe. As this Psalm continues on I’ve always wondered what verse 5 looks like in real life. I picture David, being hunted in the woods, hiding in a cave somewhere. I have interpreted this to mean that no matter what is happening or who is around us, God’s provision is there, His sustenance and blessing is in the midst of whatever we are going through.

Speaking of enduring trials and going through hardship, I received the call the week after Easter. It was 8:00 am on a Saturday morning and my parents don’t usually call that early. It was my mom’s cell phone. “Honey is Micah home?” my mom asked. “Yes, why mom? Is everything ok?” I responded. “Well I have something I need to tell you, but I want to make sure Micah can be with you.” My heart started pounding. Then she proceeded with the words no daughter ever wants to hear: “I have breast cancer honey.”  

The tears started and seemed to not stop for a few days. As the reality of my mom’s situation slowly sank in, I couldn’t even begin to talk about the variety of emotions I felt. I know I’m not alone. Many of you reading this blog entry have probably either had cancer yourself or you’ve watched someone you love go through the diagnosis of cancer. BUT, when it’s MY mom, its different. And you all know what I mean if you’ve been here. Cancer doesn’t really hit home until it’s in your home.  

Over the next several weeks we waited. Lots of waiting and lots of questions. What stage was it? Where exactly was the cancer? Ends up Stage 3, tumor in her breast and traveled to her lymph nodes. Then we waited to hear what the experts were saying her best options for treatment would be. Decisions. Decisions. I listened to my dad cry, my sisters cry, myself cry. But one person didn’t seem to be shaken. My mom. She wasn’t just being strong. She was being real. And the real her was so certain of God’s faithfulness, that she didn’t pity herself or question Him. She didn’t complain. She consoled the rest of us. I was amazed. Then the chemotherapy started. By the time my family traveled to New Hampshire for vacation she had already been through 6 weeks of chemo. She greeted us at the door. Completely bald, eyes glowing, biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face.  

I lay in bed that night and the past several months went scrolling through my mind. Life changes so very quickly. Psalm 23:5 came to my mind and the Holy Spirit spoke to me. My mom was facing her enemy (cancer) and her cup was overflowing. She was experiencing God’s provision and blessing in the midst of one of the biggest trials her life had seen and yet joy, peace, freedom, and hope were her reality.

Whatever our “enemy” looks like — disease, pain, disappointment, loss, etc — we can rest in the promise that His anointing will be on our heads, His provision laid out before us, and our hearts will overflow with grace. As I type these last lines, I am utterly amazed at the mighty God we serve and have the privilege of calling our Father. Praise His mighty and matchless name.

Come Empty, Be Filled

"Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth."

— Hosea 6:3

---

Happy New Year!

A new year stirs up all sorts of emotions in me. Excitement. A new year will bring new memories, changes in my children as they grow, and new blessings from my Heavenly Father. Hope. A new year brings restored hope that some of my deepest desires may come to fruition this year. Renewed goals. Remember those things I said I would do last year? Well THIS is the year!

But with all of these good emotions come the others as well. Namely, Anxiety. Oh, how I hate anxiety. The list starts in my mind…. This year I’m going to run more, read more, sit still more, be a better friend, be a better wife, be a better mom, be a better sister, get more involved at church, read my bible more, pray more, volunteer at school more, make more time for myself (don’t I deserve that). I heap it on without even knowing it until the weight of all the “betters” and “mores” make it hard to breathe. It’s all in my mind, but really it all starts in my heart. Oh, how my heart wanders. 

So, over the past week or so, the Lord has gently been showing me that 2015 will be another year of His hands molding and transforming my heart. Deep sigh. Am I ready? Most definitely not. You see, anxiety floods me because I tend to love so many others things/people/stuff more than Jesus. I’m reminded of this weakness when I look at my marriage and see how crushed I am when my husband doesn’t say just what I’m hoping he will say, in just the right tone, when I am upset about something. I’m reminded when my children are ungrateful and seem to not notice my heart for them. I’m reminded when the friends I so badly want to reciprocate don’t do so in just the right way. 

You see, I’m realizing that I make all of the “betters” and “mores” (and the lack of those same actions from others) as my idols. I’m hoping they will fill me up but they never do. Instead, the gentle whisper of the Holy Spirit in the early morning hours says, “I am all you need... look only for Me… look only for my approval." Jesus said, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your mind"(Matthew 22:37).

“Oh Lord, this year, in 2015, I want to love you like that,” my heart is crying.  “I want to pour my 'betters' and 'mores' out on you, but I don’t know how. Help me.”

Will you join me?

The Lord gently brought me to the book of Hosea recently. The verse I have written on my chalkboard in the living room is Hosea 6:3: “Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” What a beautiful picture. Only His Love can really saturate my heart… your heart.

Put out your cup and let Him fill it with rain.

Teacups. Come empty. Be Filled.

Courageous Vulnerability

"Going through the motions doesn’t please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you.  I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don’t for a moment escape God’s notice."

— Psalm 51:16-17 (The Message)

---

I always thought I had to be perfect.  I mean isn’t that the goal of life, love, church, God? Perfection.

Only problem is…I am not perfect. Not even close.  I really thought that I would have everything figured out by now, arriving at a state of spiritual nirvana as one of Jesus’ superstar protégés.  I fully expected to hear the voice of the woman on my GPS telling me, “You have arrived!”

But instead, the older I get the more my imperfections seem to be spotlighted. 

Every time I go ballistic when my kids are going to be late for school and no one can find their freaking shoes.  Or when I am super sassy (and not in a good way) to my husband for no good reason.  Or when I am thinking very dark or snarky comments in my head while simply nodding and smiling politely.  Even the wrinkles on my face are now advertising my imperfections, an outward expression of the inward blemishes on my heart and character.

But it is best to keep all those blemishes hidden from the rest of the world, right?  Best to put some make-up on those wrinkles and put a smile on my face to cover up the pain, fear, shame, and insecurities inside.  Best not to let anyone know the empty truth. 

Or is it?

Recently, I was reading a picture book with my children called The Empty Pot by Demi. It is the story of a child named Ping who is known throughout the kingdom for his gardening skills. When the emperor of the land announced a contest and gave all the children in the kingdom a single seed and one year to grow the most impressive flower, Ping felt certain he would be successful. Ping tried everything possible to make the seed grow, but after a year of tending the seed everyday all Ping had was an empty pot. When the day came for the children to bring their flowers before the emperor, all of the other children arrived at the palace with pots full of beautiful plants, each one more amazing than the next.  Ping arrived with only his empty pot. 

When it was Ping’s turn to stand before the emperor, the Emperor said, “Why did you bring me an empty pot?”  With a broken heart and his head hung down in shame, Ping explained how he had tended it all year long, but nothing grew. “So today I had to bring an empty pot without a flower.  It was the best I could do.”

The Emperor smiled.  This is what he had been waiting for.  He explained to everyone present that the seeds he had given the children had been cooked, so it was impossible for any of them to grow.  He said, “I admire Ping’s great courage to appear before me with the empty truth, and now I reward him with my entire kingdom.”

After I finished reading the book, I thought to myself …now that is courageous vulnerability.  And it is inspiring.

Unfortunately, I have spent most of my life as one of the children in the crowd.  How many times have I stuffed an artificial flower into my empty pot rather than letting the truth be exposed?   How many times have I put on appearances to hide my inner failures?  Smiling through the pain, laughing to cover my insecurities, telling others that everything is “fine” when it is not.  Not asking for help when I need it; looking like I have it all together, while burying my shame deep inside. 

Jesus called people like that “whitewashed tombs”.  Those that look beautiful on the outside but have no true life within.  It is clear that God is not big on appearances. 

God is big on brokenness. 

When we come to the end ourselves.  When we realize that all of our best efforts still leave us empty.  When we finally come to God and in our tears of shame tell Him, “ I tried my best and it wasn’t good enough.”

That is when He lovingly looks at us and says, “This is what I have been waiting for!  Now I will reward you with my entire kingdom.  And not just that…I will begin to fill all of your empty places with my very Self.”

Ann Voskamp in her book 1000 Gifts, writes about the idea of being “empty to fill”:

"Emptiness itself can birth the fullness of grace because in the emptiness we have the opportunity to turn to God, the only begetter of grace, and there find all the fullness of joy."

To be emptied of self in order to be filled with Christ.  To stand before God with nothing to show for all of our best efforts.  When everyone else seems to be getting it right and we have come to the end of ourselves.  In this courageous desperation, we bring God our nothing.  And He gives us His everything.

“He must increase, but I must decrease.” John 3:30

The truth is our seeds are all cooked.  Some of us may do a better job of filling up our pots, but we were made for more than just “filler”.  What if we, all of us, stood together with our empty pots?  What if we came together before the King with our nothingness?

What if we dared to create a culture of courageous vulnerability? 

Perhaps together we might “grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ…that we may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” Eph. 3:18-19

Some people see their cup as half empty, others see their cup as half full.  Sometimes our cups are just plain ol’ empty. 

Bring your empty cups.

We are TEACUPS.