Why Not Me?

Today poses a conundrum. Do I root for the Patriots, our family favorite, or Seattle – a relatively new addition to my football favs. I admit my team loyalties change with my men (shallow, I know), and the newest man in my life is my five-year-old buddy Sam – an avid Seahawk fan. My affinity for Seattle quarterback, Russell Wilson, may have been initiated by Sam’s obsession, but the more I learn about him, the more I admire him. My high regard for Wilson has more to do with the way he lives out his faith though, than any of his impressive athletic accomplishments. He was also kind enough to provide an autographed poster for my little friend – something Sam will treasure forever.

When rehashing the NFC Championship game with Sam, he enthusiastically relived many of his favorite moments, but one comment stands out amongst the rest. He concluded, “But my favorite part was when Russell talked about God after the game.” THIS is why I love Russell Wilson. His humility and gratitude in the use of his gifts and talents is an example to all of us. First and foremost, he always gives credit to God for his achievements followed closely by acknowledging his teammates contributions. The fact that he chooses to use his celebrity status for a positive impact is definitely something to cheer about. You don’t have to be a sports fan to appreciate his #BVD tweets, and he’s not discussing his undergarments, which I wouldn’t put past many other celebs. They are his Bible Verses of the Day.

That said, my favorite aspect of Wilson’s personality has to be his why not me attitude instilled in him by his father at a young age. I think it’s safe to say that our Father encourages all of us to adopt a similar why not me approach to sharing our faith. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a celebrity, we all have the opportunity to witness for Christ by the way we live.

Why not me indeed? We all have an audience, some are just larger than others. Even an audience of one has value in God’s economy. We all have a position to play. By fulfilling our role to the best of our ability (regardless of how small or seemingly insignificant) is how you create a winning team. I’m sure Russell Wilson would agree with that. There can only be one quarterback, but his success relies on his teammates success in their own positions. And so it is with Christianity. Our collective efforts on God’s behalf are an integral part of His game plan – the Great Commission. My loyalty and commitment to that endeavor is unwavering regardless of what position I’m assigned. And despite frequent and predictable failures, like Wilson’s reset visualization, we’ve all been given a reset button through Christ.

While my team loyalties may vacillate year to year, I totally agree with Russell Wilson’s aphorism that there is “only one mission.” He describes it as going 1-0 today. Every day’s a new start. I think we can all relate to that goal.It takes enormous discipline and trust to choose not to worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow, next week or next year. Wilson reminds us, “No matter what the situation, no matter how bad the circumstances are, I can close my eyes, hit the red (reset) button, and focus on the moment at hand.” Yes, we can all reach for our own reset button. It’s called the gift of grace.

Russell also emphasizes the role of fellowship. “Faith is a big part of my life, and I talk to my pastor almost every day. One thing that he has really instilled in my heart this season is the idea of surrender and surround. Surrender yourself to a higher cause, and surround yourself with special people.” Christianity is not meant to be a solo endeavor. Regardless of our abilities or lack thereof, we can all be encouragers – loyal fans that inspire and lift each other up.

Finally, Russell’s description of the Seahawks last week reminded me of many of the spiritual giants we study in the Bible. “This team is filled with late-round draft picks and unheralded free agents and underdogs who have turned into incredible football players.” The Bible is full of misfits who chose to fulfill their roles regardless of their obvious shortcomings and failures. I will leave you with this poem to ponder if you are ever tempted to doubt your ability to be a contributing member of God’s team. After reading it, I’m sure you will be asking the same question as Russell Wilson. Why not me?

No More Excuses, Author Unknown

The next time you feel like God can’t use you, just remember:

Noah was a drunk,

Abraham was too old

Isaac was a daydreamer

Jacob was a liar

Leah was ugly

Joseph was abused

Moses had a stuttering problem

Gideon was afraid

Samson had long hair and was a womanizer

Rahab was a prostitute

Jeremiah and Timothy were too young

David had an affair and was a murderer

Elijah was suicidal

Isaiah preached naked

Jonah ran from God

Naomi was a widow

Job went bankrupt

Peter denied Christ

The Disciples fell asleep while praying

Martha worried about everything

The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once

Zaccheus was too small

Paul was too religious

Timothy had an ulcer AND

Lazarus was dead!

Now! No more excuses! God can use you to your full potential.Besides you aren’t the message, you are just the messenger.

So who will I choose to root for in Superbowl XLIX? The same person I choose to root for every Sunday and every other day of the week. It doesn’t matter who the victor is today. We all know who wins in the end!

BYOSH&T

by Joanie Butman

As you may have surmised from my recent post, I am just emerging from my annual holiday fugue state. This year seemed like the longest Christmas season ever. I bid farewell to the holidays with this one comment: togetherness is highly overrated – at least as it pertains to college-age children returning to the nest. I was happy to shuffle them off back to college. Does that make me a bad mother or just an honest one? Regardless, I was looking forward to getting my house back in shape in a number of ways.

The first order of business was the mountain of sheets and towels left by an army of relatives. I will have to remind them of the BYOSH&T policy next year (bring your own sheets and towels)! Then I tackled the trees and decorations, all the while promising myself once again to simplify next year. Then the real cleansing began.

My husband and I decided to put our house on the market, and the Christmas cleanup just melded into the purging process. January is the perfect time to start this Herculean task, as who doesn’t want to begin the New Year leaving their ‘junk’ behind – physically, mentally and spiritually. At this juncture of my life, I’m ready to clean house on every level. As my family will attest, when I go into purge mode, I am ruthless, which is why I have to do it when no one else is around. There is no room for sentimentality in this process. Really, how many ‘participation’ trophies does one need to affirm their self-worth?

It’s a well-known phenomenon that we spend the first half of our lives accumulating stuff and the second half getting rid of it. Never is this truer than what we store in our hearts and minds. I wish I could hold an estate sale for the garbage I lug around needlessly from one year to the next, whether it be bad habits, grudges, regrets or even the growing number of excess pounds I’ve accrued, though the regrets are far more weighty than any scale would indicate. And oh, how I wish I could be just as ruthless with the clutter of my mind and soul! That’s an exercise that has a much more profound impact on my life than discarding any array of trophies, old sports equipment or antiquated electronics that tend to accumulate.

I enlisted the help of a friend, and we’ve spent this week schlepping carloads of stuff to storage, thrift shops, and the dump. I was shocked (and a little insulted) when I brought photos of some of the bigger items to a local consignment shop who politely informed me that no one would want my 'stuff.' Still, there are endless opportunities to recycle unwanted furniture and tchotchkes. That said, there is only one place I know of to deposit your more personal trash and that is at the foot of the cross. Christ can take any hurt, habit or hang- up we offer and transform it into something beautiful. He wastes nothing. He takes our useless junk and utilizes it for His purposes. He is the ultimate alchemist. He, too, has a BYOSH&T policy, but it has nothing to do with bedding!

Consider it a form of worship. Yes, Christ wants the offering of our gifts and talents in service to Him. But that’s not all. He wants all of us – especially the parts we’d just assume keep hidden in the recesses of our heart. By offering Him those things, we exhibit our faith in the transforming power of His love and mercy. I think that honors Him more than any act of service, which frequently comes with the temptation to feel more deserving than we are.

While I may be cleaning out the entirety of my house, it’s always a good idea to choose to start the New Year or each new day or even hour by doing a spiritual cleansing of the attic of your soul, where clutter tends to pile up affecting your relationship with Christ and consequently every other relationship in your life. You will feel so much lighter, freed from the weight of your past or the fears for your future.

I’ll close with a Godwink. The morning after I finished this essay, one of my devotionals concluded with this message,

He forgives and forgets, then He sends us back out into the world to pass on His message of forgiveness! So come to the Lord with all your ‘stuff.’ He won’t turn you away. He won’t ask ‘Why weren’t you strong enough?’ He’s only going to say, ‘Neither do I condemn you. Now, get up and stick with me. We’ve got work to do.’

God’s way of encouraging me for the task at hand – both in my house and in my heart.

A January Card

BY Joanie Butman

I wrote this right before Christmas with every intention of posting on the 28th as a follow up to An Imperfect Christmas. Amongst the confusion of holiday celebrations and a houseful of guests, it got put on the back burner where it’s been simmering ever since. Still, I think it’s worth passing along because so many of us tend to put “Christmas” away with the decorations. Think of it as a belated Christmas card. Coming from a family where my mother eventually decided to just keep her tree up year round, you're never 'too late' for Christmas. I am perilously close to embracing her tradition.

Christmas is a gift that keeps on giving but only when you carry it in your heart throughout the year as Scrooge learned, “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.” I know it seems after the fact, but I think it’s a good reminder not to box up the most important gift you will ever receive and only take it out for a few weeks every year. That thought was confirmed when I presented this blog to my partners who thought it was too late. “Christmas feels like it was some time ago” was one comment, which is exactly my point. So, even if it is late in the telling, here’s my message.

Based on the number of responses to my Imperfect Christmas article, I think it’s safe to say that the Christmas crazies is a universal phenomenon – especially amongst women who go to great lengths creating Christmas memories and traditions for their families. One response, however, reminded me of a Christmas past that by worldly standards should have been the mother of all imperfect Christmases. Yet strangely enough, it was my best Christmas. I was amazed that I had forgotten to include this particular Christmas crisis when writing that blog. It was seven years ago when I found myself on Christmas Eve getting a biopsy of what turned out to be a 10” malignant tumor. How easy it is to forget what God has done for us in the past and adopt a “What have you done for me lately?” attitude.

Coincidentally, here I was on December 23rd once again sitting at Sloane surrounded by patients in varying degrees of pain and despair. It was standing room only in the vast waiting area – a vivid reminder that suffering doesn’t take holidays. Whatever minor inconveniences I complained about in my previous essay paled in comparison to the issues these people faced. Shame on me.

Earlier in the day as I ran for the train, I blindly grabbed a book to keep me busy during the commute and long hours of waiting. I opened to the first page and got goose bumps as it was the story of the author’s first ‘real’ Christmas, and it took place in a cancer ward. Godwink! It began, “It was the type of experience that makes you wish Christmas was celebrated all year long, the kind that makes people forget about life’s imperfections and focus instead on its greatest treasures. For me it was a defining moment, one that has shaped and molded the very fabric of my soul.”*

His message mirrored my own sentiments in regard to my first ‘real’ Christmas experience seven years ago – one that changed me forever. Without a doubt, facing your own mortality makes the meaning of Christmas that much more relevant. It was uncertain during that infamous Christmas whether I’d even be around for another so I decided to make the most of the one at hand. When you’ve got nothing else but Christ, the beauty and miracle of Christmas becomes tangible in a new and wondrous way. Arriving at Christmas with your only desire being to receive the gift of Christ is as perfect as any Christmas can get. And it was despite my circumstances.

Fast forward seven years and here I sat in a sea of suffering, regretting my last cranky blog about the holidays. I felt so unworthy. Why was I a picture of health when by all accounts I shouldn’t even be here? I can’t answer that question, but can tell you that recognizing your own unworthiness is key to understanding the enormity of the true meaning of Christmas, which isn’t confined to a specific date or season. God’s gift of His son and His message of salvation by grace is based on the fact that none of us ‘deserve’ it. Grace is a gift that can’t be earned. We’re all on the naughty list whether you choose to acknowledge that reality or not. As I looked around at my neighbors, I clung to the hope and promise of Christ that “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)

I left that day with a heavy heart overflowing with gratitude to be able to experience another Christmas and chastising myself for getting uptight over insignificant details. I also finished my book on the way home. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day. One full of reminders to take Christmas and “embed it deep in my heart where the distractions and disappointments of life can’t enter, where the worldly can look but not touch, and where the rich in spirit can come and go at will.”*

Choose to keep Christmas in your heart all year.

*The Paper Bag Christmas, Kevin Alan Milne

An Imperfect Christmas

by Joanie Butman

Let me start by saying, “I don’t do crazy well.” Therefore, every December I intentionally keep my commitments to a minimum so that I can avoid the frenzied pace that surrounds me and enjoy a relaxed holiday. A noble effort for sure, but every year that delusion dissolves in the face of reality. This year was no exception.

All was going according to plan and I was congratulating myself for not overscheduling, carefully spacing out my responsibilities so that they wouldn’t become overwhelming. That calm was turned upside down with one phone call. My daughter contacted us from Rome to inform us she was coming home a week early so that ‘we’ could drive to Richmond, Virginia together to move her into her new living quarters for next semester. The feigned enthusiasm with which I received her startling revelation could have earned me an Oscar! Sacrificing three days the week before Christmas began the annual disintegration of my plans and my sanity. Next call was from my son who also decided to arrive home a week early looking for a proofreader for his four end-of-term papers. Again, not factored into my meticulous pre-holiday planning. Despite my good intentions, I was in the middle of Christmas crazy once again.

As much as we might like it to be, life isn’t tidy or orderly. So why would we expect Christmas to be any different? Yet I know there are plenty of people like me who find themselves in the same predicament every year at this time, attempting to create the “perfect” Christmas. It doesn’t exist. Well, it does but it doesn’t look like the Martha Stewart version we put so much energy into producing.

Think about the first Christmas. I’m sure traveling to Bethlehem on a donkey didn’t factor into Mary’s nesting instincts as she prepared for the arrival of her child. Giving birth in a stable couldn’t possibly be what she imagined when she anticipated bringing God’s son into the world. I wonder how many times she questioned, “This is Your plan God? Seriously?” And we’ve been asking the same question ever since.

Childbirth is a messy ordeal. Childbirth in a dirty stable even more so. Christ arrived in a mess and died in a mess. Yet here’s the paradox: Through the messiness of His life and death, Jesus infused and continues to infuse enormous joy into a broken, frenzied world.

Christ’s arrival completely turned the world upside down. Any new parent can appreciate how an infant can do that. However, Christ never stopped. His countercultural message of grace challenged established norms and asked people to put aside their well-laid plans in order to receive Him. He is still asking us to do the same. When you choose to forget the planning and focus on Christ, you will experience the ‘perfect’ Christmas – one filled with peace and joy, an oasis amidst the chaos of our messy world.

So what if my cards look like they were written by a toddler because they were done in the car on that long ride to Richmond? So what if the exquisite mantelpiece I worked so hard on is now lying in a heap on the floor, eliciting words that shouldn’t fit into any Christmas celebration? So what if 30 people are headed my way? Talk about no room at the inn! I think about past Christmas calamities: fallen trees, power outages, plumbing debacles, weather delays, unexpected guests, family dramas, illnesses, even deaths – the list is endless. However, none of them ever stopped Christmas from coming. Just as the Grinch discovered, “it came just the same.” Sometimes the only definitive thing we have control over is how we choose to receive it, or more aptly – Him.

Christ is the hope of heaven we celebrate on Christmas. His birth began the divine process of cleaning up our messy world. I see glimpses of His ongoing work every day. He is the peace that transcends human understanding and the joy that can overcome any circumstance or Christmas crisis. So if you find yourself in the middle of the Christmas crazies, why not choose to “Let His presence bring order to your thoughts, infusing peace into your entire being.”

Merry Christmas!

Christmas Lights

 by Joanie Butman

My cousin moved to South Carolina when he was an adolescent. As an Italian Catholic Yankee arriving in Greenville, he already had three strikes against him. Regardless of where you relocate to, assimilating into a new community as a teenager is no easy feat. Northerners adjusting to the south must be difficult at any age because there are advice books written about it! All I did was cross the bridge from Brooklyn to New Jersey, but I might as well have landed on another planet. I couldn’t get out fast enough.

Meanwhile, Mark was doing his best to meld in like every teenager does, not wanting to draw attention to himself or stand out in any way. I’ve never lived in the south, but the way he describes it traditional southern hospitality doesn’t always extend to those of us raised north of the Mason Dixon line. Much like New Englanders, people from the south can definitely be wary and reserved with strangers, depending upon where you are. So you can imagine his dismay upon returning from school one day to discover his parents had installed a huge, flashing Happy Birthday Jesus sign on the front lawn! So much for flying under the radar. Infamy is definitely not what one seeks at that age – at least not of that kind. Nevertheless, it was thrust upon him, like it or not. This photo is a gross exaggeration, but in the mind of a teenager, this is probably what it seemed like!

Fast forward forty years, which is when he shared this story with me. My uncle had suffered a number of mini-strokes and was failing mentally. Every time my cousin visited, his dad would try to give him random articles of clothing – his shoes, socks, even extra underwear. My cousin would patiently thank him and assure him that he didn’t need anything. His mother encouraged him to just accept whatever was offered and throw it out after he left. On one such day as Mark was leaving, he went through the garage and spotted the dreaded Happy Birthday Jesus sign and thought, “That’s what I want!”

No longer hindered by an adolescent’s fear of being conspicuous or flamboyant, Mark was determined to proudly install that sign on his lawn. He lives in Charleston, SC where there are strict rules regulating the uniformity of his neighborhood. He had to obtain approval from the Board of Architectural Review in order to display it, which is comparable to getting a papal dispensation from the Catholic Church. Nevertheless, in honor of his dad and the Christmas season, he once again has achieved infamy for that same sign – only this time it is with pride, gratitude and affection for the legacy his parents instilled regarding the meaning of Christmas.

During this hectic time, when the reason for the season tends to get lost amongst the gifts and festivities, may we all choose to be so bold as to let our own light shine for all to see as a reminder of the gift we received so many years ago on that first Christmas. While we will no doubt receive our share of gifts (that we may or may not choose to keep), that sign represents the only gift we will ever need, the one that’s one-size-fits-all, the one that keeps on giving, the one that can only be appreciated when we choose to accept it, open it and share it with others. Once you do, you will shine His light wherever you choose to live. 

God grant you the light in Christmas,

which is faith;

the warmth of Christmas,

which is love;

the radiance of Christmas,

which is purity;

the righteousness of Christmas,

which is justice;

the belief in Christmas,

which is truth...

--Wilda English