My parents have a mirror in their house that is warped in just the right way to where your body looks elongated just a little…just enough to where you think to yourself, “I look good!” Many people have commented on how much they like looking in the mirror and that it makes them feel good about what they see. It’s weird how just a little tweak of our vision can change our thinking.

I imagine a lot of scenarios for my life – where I could have done something better, or something different, times when I should have said yes…and times when I should have said no (there’s lots of those). At times it’s nice to think how different my life would have been had I done something different, but there’s other times – other thoughts – when I think about them it only makes me feel sad.

I have a lot of regret for things I’ve said and done in my life. And while I have let go of a lot of things, some of them are going to be with me forever. I have yet to find a mirror I can put up to those things that makes them look better – I haven’t been able to find the good in them yet. I wish I could, as Edith Piaf sings so beautifully, have no regrets: “No, nothing of nothing / No! I don’t regret anything / It’s paid for, swept away, forgotten, / I don’t care about the past!”

There’s a great word that I often forget about: content. In an all or nothing society, being content with what you have is almost frowned upon. It seems to me that we’re pushed into wanting or desiring something just because it’s there. There’s no rhyme or reason for having it, but you just have to have it. Contentment is saying that what you have, what you see in front of you is good enough for you. You’re not resigning and giving up, but you’re accepting and proud of what you have.

William Randolph Hearst was a very wealthy newspaper publisher who had an incredible collection of art. The Hearst mansion in northern California is a testament to his insatiable desire for artistic treasures. On one occasion he learned of some artwork he was determined to obtain. He sent his agent abroad to search for the treasure. After months of investigating, the agent reported that the treasure had been found. To further sweeten the find, Hearst learned that the relic wouldn’t cost him a dime. He already owned it. The rediscovered piece was in Hearst’s warehouse with many other treasures that had likewise never been uncrated.

Matthew 5:5 puts it like this: “You’re blessed when you’re content with just who you are – no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.” (MSG)

It takes a lot of time and emotional healing to be content. Every day we have to look at our lives and say, “This is who I am today. And I’m glad that I am.” We can work on our lives and progress to be better, but we first must accept ourselves as we are. Frank McCourt writes in Angela’s Ashes: “He tells me God forgives me and I must forgive myself, that God loves me and I must love myself for only when you love God and yourself can you love all God’s creatures.” Take your time, be patient, and be content with who you are.

.much love. sheth.

Every morning the janitor comes around and empties each trash bin by our little stations at work. It’s the same routine for everyone:
Janitor: “‘Mornin, (employee’s name)”
Employee: “Good morning”
J: “How’s it goin’?”
E: “Good. You?”
J: “I’m doing alright.”
E: “Good.”

This exchange in the office happens at least eight times a morning, five times a week. The same words, same inflection, same actions each and every day, all year long. It gets a little tedious and one really starts to question everyone’s sanity. I can’t help but wonder when someone is going to blow up: “HOW’S IT GOING?! I’LL TELL YOU HOW IT’S GOING!”

*****

Every now and then when watching t.v. I’ll stumble onto The Wheel of Fortune. I love the introductions because they’re so formulaic, but still interesting because you don’t know how the blanks are going to be filled in:

Pat Sajak: “Aye Aye Captain is the answer. Good job. Frank Goodson, is it? Frank’s here from Sacramento, California. It says here you’re a data analyst.”
Frank: “Yeah, I work at a small firm that helps companies to compile and sort out all the information they receive from their clients.”
P: “Neat! And you’re marrtied?”
F: “Yes, twelve years to my beautiful wife Nancy. We have three wonderful children – Harry, Ronnie, and Jessica.”
P: “Sounds like a wonderful family. Why don’t we go for another puzzle?”

All the contestants have great background stories; nicely polished and wholesome, with loving families anxiously waiting in the audience for their victory. But there have to have been times when a contestant didn’t have family to bring so they’re there all alone, or one of them is going through a bitter divorce and has no positive adjectives to describe their spouse.

*****

I bring this up because we all have things we really want to say and talk about – just below the surface we have all this stuff that’s slowly killing us that we need to pour out to someone. Life stuff that we hope someone will ask us about. Ask those questions! Dig deep about relationships, about living situations, about kids. Question the person about their faith, about their health, about their emotions. More than likely the other person really wants to express all this (and more) to you, but they’re afraid. Prod them along and help them get out what they really want to say. Don’t skip along the surface – dive, dive, dive!

.much love. sheth.

I’ve been suffering through pre-Christmas since early October when Wal-Mart decided to put out their leftover Christmas items – dusty boxes of greeting cards, ornaments, flattened wreaths. Each week it seems the store has slowly been gathering momentum: putting out more decorations, newer cards, bigger fake trees, piping Christmas songs through the P.A. system. I’m not a big fan of holidays for a lot of reasons and there are times when I wish I could just blow it all off and go on with the day as if it were any other day. But no one else I know feels the same way that I do, so I push through it all and get to the other side of the holiday.

Now, I’m not anti-Christmas. I like the church-y Christmas stuff a lot. I’ve been going to church almost my entire life, but never did the Advent thing until I started going to the Presbyterian church and it’s given me some new perspectives on the season. I love Christmas Eve services and all the families being together and the larger church family being together (plus, we do candles…fire in church…awesome!) . Honestly, I even like a few of the Christmas carols.

I suppose you could say I’m torn between enjoying the holiday and despising it immensely.  The secular Christmas with the gift giving, and trees, and sales, and annoying commercials really put a damper on the whole season.  But looking at God’s gift to us and all the awesome things attached to it – that’s what saves me from just blowing off the whole thing all together.  The first candle of Advent – the one we lit this morning – is the candle of Hope. That’s what a lot of us (especially me) need this time of year – hope.

Hope that finances will balance out.
Hope that God keeps His promises.
Hope that loneliness doesn’t feel so lonely.
Hope that something will change for the better.
Hope that a dream or two will come true.

This time of year is when all hope can seem lost – it’s cold, it’s dark…people can seem fake, rude, presumptive, egotistic…church can even be a place of contention at times.  But our hope doesn’t rest in the weather or other people or even the church. It rests in Jesus – the one who can calm our fears, ease our tensions and stresses, and comfort our loneliness.  When it all seems like a little too much to handle, take a minute to think about our Hope through Jesus.

.much love. sheth.

When I was in high school I worked for my dad in construction and my coworkers were always seedy men – guys with stories that would make anyone uncomfortable because of their crudeness and vulgarity.  Many of these men were hard workers – a good example for me at a young age.  But they also had no conscience, no self-control, no modesty – a bad example for me at a young age.  They shared their life with me as we worked trimming out a house or shingling a roof.  Their jokes are still rattling around in my mind; their stories of debauchery still linger.

It wasn’t always the crusty and lowbrow men that added things to my mind.  When I first went to college the internet was just gaining momentum and friends were emailing friends dirty pictures, crude jokes, and links to websites.  It was a time of unabated freedom for me because in high school we didn’t have the internet at home [and we rarely used it in school], so getting to college and having all this information available to me was like an avalanche.  There before me was a whole world of information, humor, music, thoughts, and ideas.

And let’s be honest, some of it was from my own choices – the music that I’ve listened to, the books I’ve read, the people I’ve been with.  Sometimes I knew something would be vulgar or crude or offensive and I wanted to listen to it, like George Carlin’s “Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television” or Lenny Bruce’s “To Is a Preposition…”  Other times I had no idea what something was about and it all snuck up on me at once, an appalling blindside to my morals.

So here I am, now in my 30’s, with all this junk in my brain.  All these tasteless jokes, these dirty songs, images forever burned into my consciousness.  It’s frightening, really, because I don’t want any of this in my mind.  I can’t help but think of all the useful stuff I could be using that space for – like how to find the center of a circle with only a ruler, or knowing all the states and their capitals, or remembering important historical dates.

I pray every day that all this junk will be taken away from me, because I don’t want it to be a part of my life anymore.  But it’s hard, too, because for better or worse all this stuff formed me into the person that I am now.  I now recognize what’s good and what’s bad for me.  And at the same time I suppose some of this stuff is going to be stuck with me for a long, long time.  Like the theme song from The Brady Bunch.

much love. sheth.

Even as a small child, Jesus had the remarkable ability to love his neighbors in a way that we rarely do.  Matthew 2 tells the story here.  We often think of these three guys on camels riding in the desert guided by a star.  Weird hats, flashy clothes, rings on their index fingers, long pointy beards.  One of whom is probably non-white skinned…just to keep the story more exciting!  But we don’t think about the guys themselves – they weren’t Jews.   They didn’t know God. They were strangers.  They were foreigners.  But they came to honor the Messiah.  Joseph and Mary opened their doors to these men and let them present gifts to their son.  They didn’t just give gifts, either – they “…bowed down and worshiped him.”

We’re called to love.  We’re called to love as Jesus loved -by sacrificing, giving, encouraging, teaching, helping, living for others before ourselves.  We’re called to be less and help others to be more.  Matthew 22:39 says we are to “Love your neighbor as yourself.”  The word for neighbor used in this verse is ‘plēsion’, meaning “…any other man irrespective of race or religion with whom we live or whom we chance to meet…”  That pretty much means anyone.

Many times I hear my non-Christian or non-church attending friends talk about how hypocritical Christians are – saying one thing and doing another…called to love, but exclusive.  And part of me thinks they’re right.  Some Christians are unloving.  Some are racist, homophobic, and xenophobic; they don’t like people in different social or economic classes.  They’re afraid of change, afraid of new things, afraid of what or who isn’t in their idea of ‘Christian’.

How many times do we have the chance to love as Jesus loved?  Not just to the ones we’re comfortable with loving, but the ones we don’t even know?  How often do you have the chance to love the homeless, the sick, and the weary?  How often do you have the chance to love Muslims, Hindis, Sikhs, atheists – people who don’t agree at all with your beliefs?  How often do you have the chance to love people of other races, other sexual orientations, other income levels?

These are our neighbors.

They need to see Jesus’ love as much as we do.

They need to know Jesus’ love.

They need to see us expressing that love.

.much love. sheth.