Unusual Christmas Guests

“They are gonna rob you blind,” someone said. I couldn’t argue because they voiced the words I was already thinking.

“We’ll lock the bedroom doors,” I offered.

I glanced around the living room. By American standards we have a simple home. But we do have a bookcase filled with books and curios from around the world. I imagined myself welcoming our guests by saying, I’m sorry you can barely feed your family, but do you see my beautiful blown-glass vase from Egypt? With the money I paid for it, you could have a new set of clothes, or buy dinner for all fifteen people crammed into your tiny home. Yeah, I better clear off the bookshelf before they come.

We are inviting a rather poor family to our home during the Christmas season. It’s not just a poor family: it’s a poor family with some unsavory habits and characteristics. That’s why we’ll need to lock the doors. But here’s the thing, Jesus didn’t come for the well, He came for the sick, right?

So  my “to do” list to get ready for our guests is:

1.      Find a place for our dog to go for the day. Dogs are dirty in their religion.

2.      Find a place to cater some rice and meat. My kitchen is not halal since I cook with pork. I’ll need to buy food from a halal restaurant.

3.      Find the keys to all our bedroom doors. Seriously.

4.      Bake cookies and lots of them.

5.      Find a carpet to put on the floor so guests can sit on the floor as well as the furniture. That's how we roll in this part of the world.

This list is a little different from your basic “get ready for Christmas” list right? You aren’t gonna find this one on Pinterest! But here’s the other thing. Because this family is…well…because they are who they are…here is what WON’T matter:

1.      If the house is clean

2.      If the house smells nice

3.      If the Christmas tree is big and beautiful

4.      If my hosting skills are perfect

5.      If my furniture matches

Just the fact alone that they will come to our house is special enough for them. Nothing else matters, everything else is “icing on the cake”…I guess in this culture we might say “Everything else is extra servings of dried fishies on the rice."

And I got to thinking…

When God invites me to Himself, to His love, to His will…am I a cleaned up proper guest who evaluates everything He does for me? Or am I just an unworthy sinner who is so happy to simply be invited?

This poor…can we even say unsavory?...family is teaching me a lot about how to be a better servant for my Master.

Pray that this family will feel loved in our home and will have ears to hear the Reason for the Season.

God's Christmas To Do List

It's Christmas season and people are shopping and planning and bustling about. I got to thinking about the very first Christmas and all that God did to make it the amazing day that it was. He had quite a TO DO list y'all. Here is what I found:

GOD'S TO DO LIST

            WHEN                                    WHAT

            42 generations before              Begin lineage: 3 groups of 14

Isaiah 7:14                               Have Isaiah  prophecy virgin birth and the name Immanuel

Micah 5:2                                Have Micah prophecy Messiah’s birth in Betlehem.

Hosea 11:1                              Have Hosea prophecy Jesus going to Egypt

Jeremiah 31:15                        Have Jeremiah prophecy the deaths of many young boys (because of Herod’s greed)

Long ago                                (Matt. 2:23) Have someone prophecy “He will be called a Nazarene”

Years Before                           Make sure Zechariah and Elizabeth have no children

Year or more before                (Luke1:8-11) Make Zechariah be chosen by lot to go into the temple then send Gabriel to speak to him and foretell the birth of John, who will prepare the way for Jesus.

In Elizabeth’s 6^th month          Send Gabriel to tell Mary what will happen

6 months before                      Send angel to tell Joseph what will happen

Several months before            Have a star appear, visible in the East. Prompt men there to see it and instill in them a desire to follow it

“In those days”                       Have Caesar Augustus decide to take a census of the entire Roman World

Just before birth                      Luke 2:4,5 Have Mary and Joseph go to Bethlehem

A few days before                  Make sure all inns in Bethlehem are full.

The day of                               Make sure there are not too many animals in the stable.

The day of                               Help Mary safely give birth

The night of                            Send the angel choir to the skies outside of Bethlehem to sing for shepherds.

After that                                Matt. 2:9 Have the star guide Wisemen from East to the exact spot

After the visit                          Matt 2:12 Warn the Wisemen in a dream to go home a different route than before.

When they are gone                Send an angel to tell Joseph to escape to Egypt.

After Herod dies                     Send an angel to tell Joseph to return

After Joseph hears about

Archelaus being king              Send angel to tell Joseph to go to Nazareth

Maybe you can find more in Scripture. If you do, write it in the comments so I can add it to the list!

A Conversation on Hell

MK strained to hear E over the din of noise in the house.

"So we both agree that everyone sins. What do you do about the sin in your life?" E asked.

"I try to do good things to outweigh the bad things I do," MK replied.

"Oh, like a scale?"

"Yes, at the end of our life, there will be a scale. You know, for every sin we commit, we will have to go to Hell for 70 years."

"Wow, that's a lot of years for just one sin. And I heard that you believe that the fire of Hell is ten times hotter than earthly fire."

"Imagine! You know how your hand hurts if it is burned in the fire. You put medicine on it and you take care of it, but it still hurts, it's all you can think about. Imagine what Hell's fire will be! Plus, God makes it hotter every year." MK leaned forward to emphasize her thoughts, "It's good for us to think about this every day."

"But MK, even if we sin just one time a day...and you know we do more than that...that is 365 sins a year. Multiply that by the years of our life..." E shook her head..."It's so many sins."

"I watched a TV show once that said we only needed to do three things. First, we must not fight with our family. Second, we must honor our parents. Third, we must be kind to others. Then we can go to heaven."

"Do you do these three things?"

MK looked around at her family and shook her head. "No, no one can."

"You know," E replied, "I used to believe like you...that I had to do enough good things to make up for my sins. But then I discovered that God loves us so much that He made a way for us to be with Him in Heaven. Not because of anything we have done, but because of the way He made for us."

"This is my sister's house," MK said. "You should come to my house where it is more quiet. Some day you can come to my house and we will talk more about this. It will be easier to think when it is quiet."

E smiled. "I'd like that."

I Hope I Never Need Him

A ballroom filled with stylish crafts, expensive handmade jewelry, and organic soaps: not exactly my cup of tea, but I was curious enough to step in. I listened to a lady try to sell Moroccan oils to me just to hear her French accent; I perused the more-than-I-could-afford leather purses, and eyed the beaded jewelry from a distance. I sampled some chocolate cranberry candy and thought about buying some, but when I read the price chart, I opted to hope my taste buds had a good memory, because that’s the only way I’d be enjoying that flavor again.

Finally I found a booth with some creative pictures made out of flowers and leaves. They were intricately designed patterns and a decent price too. I couldn’t seem to pass it up, so I stood there, admiring each design. I noticed a lady beside me who also appreciated the pictures.

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Yes!” She agreed in a heavy accent. “They are just wonderful. I can’t decide which design I should buy. Do you think I should buy the framed picture or the ones without a frame?”

“Hmmmm,” I began.

“I think without the frame. I don’t really like the frame, do you? I think I can buy a frame myself. Which of these do you think I should buy?”

And the conversation continued like this as I pretended to help her choose the pictures she would purchase. Really she seemed to have her own confident opinion. I mostly just agreed with her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my name is Paree,” the woman stopped shopping and held her hand out in greeting. “Like ‘Paris’ without the ‘s’.”

“My name is Jana, so nice to meet you.” We shook hands and it was then that I stopped to examine my new friend. She was an older lady, heavy set and tan, sophisticated, and carried a kind expression on her face.

“Your accent is lovely, where are you from?”

Now I have never been accused of having a lovely accent, so I was appreciating this lady more and more. “I’m from the United States.”

“Oh! There are so many accents in the United States, and not all of them are nice, sorry to say. Take Texas for example…oh!” She brushed the ugly thought away with a sweep of her hand. “What state you from?”

Well, this is going to be awkward.

“Texas.”

“Oh! But you don’t sound like it.”

“Well, I haven’t really lived there that much. So where are you from?”

“Iran.”

“Wow, really? Why are you in Penang?”

“My husband works here. And you?”

“Because of my husband’s job as well. My children attend school at DIS.”

“Oh! All three of my children went to DIS.” She grabbed my arm. “DIS is a very good  school. You know, we are Muslim, and everyone wanted to know why we sent our children to a Christian school. But it was no problem, it is such a good school. You know, it’s the cheapest American school in Southeast Asia.”

“So they were kind and accepting of your family?”

“Oh yes. And you know, they don’t have a lot of facilities, but they teach the children the value of money. And the students, they are not spoiled American children…sorry…like in other American schools. They are a very good school. Don’t worry, your children will be fine!”

I asked more about her children, who graduated in the 90s. They attended universities and found employment in the United States and in Australia. Paree continued to rave about DIS and encourage me that it was such a good school.

When we parted ways, she handed me a business card. “This is my husband’s card, I hope you never need it.”

What a curious thing to say. I looked down at the card. Neurosurgeon. Paree is right, I hope I never need him.

Thanksgiving

I love to improvise, I think that's why celebrating holidays overseas is my favorite. 

I grew up in a little town in Indonesia. Making traditional Christmas and Thanksgiving meals took a lot of work on my mom’s part. One year (I don’t know which holiday it was for, let’s say Thanksgiving since it works so well in my line of thought) my parents decided to have turkey. No big deal right? Butterball turkeys in the open market, right? Well, perhaps we named him Butterball, but I don’t think so because the live turkey running around our back yard was not that fat. Maybe we named him Beanpole. But he had to be caught, killed, de-feathered and gutted, well you get the picture. I don’t remember my parents ever deciding to do that again. I suppose that’s why having turkey is not a big deal to me. Chicken is just as good, thank you.

But it's not always overseas. Sometimes you have to improvise in good 'ol United States too. One of my favorite Thanksgiving memories in Texas is the time I ate at a Chinese restaurant with my Grandmother. The restaurant was empty, since everyone else in Dallas was at home eating turkey and dressing. Grandmother and I had a quiet and relaxing Thanksgiving dinner with no cleanup. If you love cashew chicken and a plate of rice, you can't beat that deal.

A third favorite memory is the year Kris and I lived in Eritrea and I invited my two English students to our house for Thanksgiving Dinner. They wanted to help, so I made all the "fixins" and they brought zighini: the traditional super spicy chicken dish. Maybe not quite the traditional turkey, but it worked. In retrospect, it was a bad idea to invite just the two of them because one was my closest friend and the other was a married man whose wife lived in a different city. Honestly, I think the two of them liked each other, so it didn't help that I invited them over and it was like a double date. That should have been super awkward for me, but I think I didn't even realize how weird that was until it was too late. It was still a fun day with yummy food. 

This memory probably explains why yesterday, after twenty years of never attempting to replicate it, I decided to make injera: a tricky-to-make-but-yummy-to-eat Eritrean bread. So yesterday, while preparing for our big Thanksgiving celebration for today, I was also attempting to make a sourdough starter for injera. It's sitting on the cabinet fermenting today. A grey stinky mixture, slightly less than it started out because who knew that the yeast was so potent? And the whole wheat/rye mixture grew like a giant wet blob and spilled all over the cabinet. But I only lost a portion of it and the rest is safely back into a larger container and rotting (oops I mean fermenting) on the counter-top.

This evening, while eating a “proper” Thanksgiving meal with all the accoutrements, I’ll be smiling as I think of the turkey running around our back yard in a little market town in Indonesia, I'll be remembering Grandmother sitting across from me in a booth at the Chinese restaurant in Texas, and I’ll be reminiscing a make-shift Thanksgiving dinner in Eritrea (and wondering if my gray blob of fermenting dough is getting a life of its own again and if it will have taken over the kitchen by the time we get home tonight). I’ll be feeling thankful for the Thanksgivings that were traditionally perfect and all the ones that were perfectly un-traditional.

And I’ll be thankful…so very thankful…to have celebrated each one.

 Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

To The Lady in the Pink Hat

We saw you at the edge of the water as we finished dinner at a seaside cafe.

A lady in a pink hat.

How could we miss it? 

You were covered in black from head to toe. 

You looked like the other covered ladies walking by.

But your pink hat caught our attention. 

A big floppy pink hat. 

With it you said,

"I am here! I am beautiful!"

And I know you are.

Not because I can see past the  black cloth that engulfs even your face.

But because I know your Creator.

And He makes all things beautiful.

We joined you at the edge of the water, after we finished dinner at the seaside cafe.

A lady in a pink hat.

"We love your hat!"

You were covered in black from head to toe.

You looked like the other covered ladies walking by.

But your eyes shone like sapphires.

Under the floppy hat.

Your husband said,

"She is too beautiful for others to see."

We chat for a few minutes.

It's tricky because of the black cloth that engulfs even your face.

But I know your Creator.

And I'm asking Him to make all things beautiful.

You won't be standing there on the beach the next time I'm at the seaside cafe.

Lady in the pink hat.

You'll be back home.

You'll be covered in black from head to toe.

Surrounded by covered ladies walking by.

But God has set eternity in your heart.

So I will pray for you.

The Lady in the Pink Hat.

Touch

In your village today, I held your baby. He is so tiny, so perfect.

I glance around the crazy home he has been born into.

It’s not just the dirty floor we sit on, or the man smoking in the corner.

It’s not just the smell of too many bodies living in one place.

It’s the spiritual darkness that permeates this dim room.

It’s the despair in the grandmother’s eye.

But you don’t seem worried like me. This is all you know.

Your baby: everyone is afraid to touch him. He’s so tiny they might hurt him.

I’m not afraid. I know he won’t break. Not from a gentle touch.

A gentle touch.

People don’t touch very much around here do they?

The first time we met, I was surprised. I shook hands with your mother, but no one else.

And now, as I cuddle the tiniest little baby in my arms, I try to remember.

Do you touch at all?

I have seen people slap…a lot. Parents slapping children. Children slapping each other.

In fact, come to think of it, I myself have been slapped in the face by one of the kids!

Jesus used touch.

When Jesus touched, He healed the broken. When Jesus touched, He blessed the children.

You are broken. How can I show you that Jesus heals?

You have children. How can I bless your children with Jesus' love?

You’ve never felt a loving touch. You’ve never felt His healing touch.

Will you let me get close? Will you let me pat your shoulder, hug you, hold your hand?

It’s a risk for me too you know. The last time you came close, you tried to steal from my purse.

The last time I leaned in close, I think I got lice.

But I am here to share the love of Jesus. And Jesus touched people.

So I will hold your baby, I will hold your hand.

And if need be, take another slap on the face.

Jesus offers you healing and blessing.

It’s a gentle touch.

Will you accept it?