The Lights of Vegas

"You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.  In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." 

Matthew 5:14-16 

     The Light of the world has come. The Light, being the very Word, became flesh and dwelt among us, and yet that Light expected something of the very creation It came to shine upon.  The One who called light into existence, who placed the stars in the sky and brightened all of creation, calls Its recipients "the light of the world." This Original Light that illuminates is meant to be illuminated in each of us.  Jesus, the Light of the world has come and not only has He said, "whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life," (John 8:12) He has called us "the light of the world."  

We are the light of the world.  

We carry something that is undefinable 

                   and so indescribable. 

We cannot put words to what it means to be a light, 

except to say that this light, 

the light of Jesus equals love. 

And yet, 

when we say love, 

we have no way to adequately express 

              the full breadth of the word.  

What is love? 

What is light? 

I can't say entirely, 

but I can say 

when I see it, I know it  

When I see it, I'm drawn to it, 

         like a moth to a flame  

When I see it, my spirit is warmed by it 

         and it calls me by name, 

drawing me in 

When I see it, I long for it 

And when I touch it, 

    the flame is ignited in me 

and I become the light of the world

A vessel carrying something completely indescribable

A vessel carrying hope  

So why do the lights of Vegas shine brighter than me? than you? than us? 

Yes, of course, they are glass tubes filled with neon and argon, pumped full of electricity, artifically lit. Yes, they were delicately heated, bent and molded to be sculpted into lights that shine for ages, lights that radiate and draw their onlookers in. It is undeniable; the lights of Vegas they do their job.  And I can't help but wonder, if we too aren't delicately heated, bent and molded to be sculpted into lights that shine for ages. But that's just it, if the lights of Vegas shine brighter than The Original Light living in us, than maybe we haven't truly been heated, bent and molded by that Light.  

There is no clearer place in the world to see lights put on stand for everyone to see than Las Vegas.  In complete darkness there is no dark.  And the metaphor of light is lost to those who bear the name of The Original Light, standing on corners with signs joining the darkness and condemning the created light that has figured out how to shine brighter than The Original Light within them; as if the lights of Vegas have somehow wronged The Original Light and it's theirs to judge.  

These signs speak nothing into a world of complete darkness that contains no dark and perhaps are actually perceived as darkness themselves. The signs that stand in judgment are the bowl that hides the Light of the world contained within us. They are not shining a light into darkness; instead, they are submitting to the darkness as the shadow of the towering signs extinguishes the light that is within those holding them. 

We cannot control this Light, yet we often think we can.  We cannot do the work of heating and molding it, even though we try. We can only simply submit to the flame and let it shine in ways we never imagined.  The Original Light ignites in us a light that is meant to be a city on a hill, a beacon of hope and love that calls out to darkness and lives in the midst of darkness, lighting the world. 

We are meant to be the lights of Vegas.  

And we in our brokenness have dimmed the Light.  

Jesus forgive us. Lord, have mercy.    

Discipleship as gift-giving

Several years ago, these plates were given to me as a gift as I departed a call and moved into the next season of my journey.  The gift-giver communicated that she had handmade these treasures to reflect all of the things that I had somehow taught her about herself and about G-d.  She admittedly isn't a crafty person, so creating something like this made it all the more special to me.  Today, they hang over my desk, right in plain sight as a reminder, not of what I've accomplished, but instead that I'm learning the same things.  You see, the beauty of discipleship is that you do life together, truly an "iron sharpens iron" experience.  The very words that she felt she learned from me, I had learned from her. 

     These plates have come to be part of my most treasured gifts because they remind me daily of where my strength comes from. They remind me daily that I am not alone.  They remind me that my story matters and that G-d has been all over it, even in the darkest of times. 
     When a gift is given does the giver know the impact of the gift? In a society that prides itself in allowing the receiver to pick it's own gift, how is there even opportunity for the giver to know the weight of what they have given?  My local grocery store has a kiosk of gift cards from any place imaginable. When  you don't know what to give someone, allowing them to choose their own gift via a gift card or even cash, seems to make sense.  But oh, the gifts that someone has thought out, the gifts that speak a piece of their heart to yours.  Those are the gifts that impact. Those are the gifts that change the world. 
     Discipleship is like gift-giving.  The receiver shouldn't be choosing their own gift, but instead the giver imparts a gift that touches the darkness of our lives.  Why is this important? Because as receivers, it's unlikely that we would choose a gift that transforms everything within us.  

     In discipleship, we give of ourselves, our story, our journey and we give it to one another.  It's in that journey together that we decrease, that we learn our poverty and our dependence, not just on G-d, but on one another as well.  It's in the giving of our whole selves that we learn.  

     We learn...

"G-d's love can always be trusted, and  His faithfulness lasts as long as the heavens." 

"The Lord was always there..."

"When I felt all alone, He was there..." 

"We had no one to turn to or depend on but the Lord..." 

"I will praise you again because You help me and You are my G-d." 

"When I am hurting, I find comfort in your promise that leads to life." 

"G-d showed me..." 

"I don't know what I would have done without Him" 

"Daily, I draw my strength from the Lord..." 

"My power and my strength come from the Lord, and He has saved me."

My Demon Cat is stealing my soul while I basket-weave underwater with mohawked snowmen...

Well, if that isn't the most random blog title ever! All thanks can be given to my wonderful friends who give me topics when topics seem to lack

Topics: My demon cat is stealing my soul, underwater basket-weaving and Mohawked snowmen - GO!

Since my son was about six years old he has said "when my dad dies, I'm getting a cat!" He loves cats. His dad does not.  Every time my kids have brought up the idea of a cat, their dad has shut them down with excuses. Bottom line: he hates cats.  My son is ten now and his older sister is nineteen.  They conspired, compiled money and
in June, despite their dad's grumblings, Frankie the Siamese kitten came home.  (The Demon Cat as my friend calls him) It turns out the boy didn't  have to wait until his dad died, so that's good. And it turns out that cat sure does love daddy!

It was seven years ago that my boy and his dad created this mohawked snowman in our front yard. It was created to look like our friend that sports a mohawk and usually has a Pabst Blue Ribbon in his hand.  They were so proud of this creation! Every year now our snowmen have mohawks.

So how do I tie this all together?

Well, Christmas isn't what I want it to be. It's kinda like my husband having a cat despite his wishes. Truth is - Christmas hasn't been the same since my grandma passed away.  With each passing year, I find myself a little less "in the spirit." At one point my home had seven Christmas trees. Now, I struggle to get up the one.  I would love for my house to be decked the way it always used to be, but I just don't have time or even the want to make it happen.  I'd love to say that the demon cat is stealing my soul, but this problem existed way before Frankie.

As I age, winter is dragging me down.  I love building snowmen (especially cute ones with mohawks!) I love sledding, ice skating, seeing the Christmas lights. But I dislike the cold, the lack of sun, and the darkness.  Through this season I just feel like I don't measure up to all the pretty cards I've received, the homes of friends that are beautifully decorated, or all the bake goods that fill my Facebook feed. It seems that everywhere, but my house, people are making fantastic Christmas memories. On most days, I feel like taking up underwater basket-weaving would be easier than trying to fulfill all the Christmas expectations that I have for myself, not to mention the demands of others.

So topics escape me right now and I turn to my friends for inspiration! My demon cat is stealing my soul while I ponder basket-weaving underwater with mohawked snowmen! You see, we aren't alone! We may feel that way, but truth is, we all struggle. We all, at some point, secretly feel as if we don't measure up. In the times where I struggle, I try my best to reach out to friends. I depend on relationships to perk me up! I look to my friends and my family to make me laugh, to make me smile, to show me love and let me show them love. Christmas is different and I'm learning to be okay with that.