Pivot

There are few moments in time that pivot your life into a new direction like the moment your child is born.  It was 6:56 p.m on a cold January evening almost 30 years ago when Major Sandrock proclaimed, "It's a boy!"  to Doug and myself.   7 lbs and 2 oz of pure love.  Pure hope.  A future swaddled into my arms.  Nothing would be the same and I didn't want it to be.  I was a mother.  And Doug. He was a father. 

I remember the look on Doug's face at that moment as much as I remember the look of the baby.   His identity was forever changing.   He saw it too.   A life waiting to be written and we were entrusted to help write the story.   Three new people were born that day.  Three new identities.  Father, mother, and son.

I often wonder what my dad thought and felt the moment he heard those words when he became a father.   Did he have a similar look on his face that Doug did?  It's hard for me to know.  My dad was an absent father.  He and mama divorced when I was only 6 months old .  No phone calls.  No letters.  No visits.  No child support.  No gifts for Christmas for birthdays.  No way of knowing if he was dead or he was alive.  Then, came the day... there was another pivot.

I was in 7th grade.   I knew something was different.   In the living room sat my grandma, grandpa, and mom.  "Sit down girls," papaw said.   We plopped onto the floral 70's couch and surveyed the room.  Christmas cards hung from the door frame between the living room and dining room and the lights on the tree danced in the corner.  My mom wanted to capture this moment.  Mom handed my sister and I an envelope.   It looked like all the other card envelopes carrying Christmas wishes to the family, but it was far from ordinary. The return address was from Olympia, Washington and I knew nobody there.   Inside, was a red card.  It wasn't one of those cards that came from a box, but one of those cards that someone had to go to the aisle and pick out special.  The kind that looked like the wrapping paper itself.   My sister had the same card addressed to her.   I opened the card to see the signature.   Merry Christmas, it said.  From your ex-missing Father, Larry.  And just like that... my  world pivoted.  I went from wondering if dad was alive to wondering why things were the way they were.  Although the birth certificate said he was my father, he chose not to walk into that identity.

So much of the Christmas story revolves around the new baby swaddled in the manger.  As it should, but truth be told the whole world got a new identity that day.  Mary became a mother and Joseph became a father, but Heaven revealed a son and a Father to the world.  It was not becoming, but revealing their identities.

 Jesus was the Son before he was Mary's son.  And the Father.... He has always been the Father.  Now, we could see more of the fullness of what that means.   Never will we get a card from our Father that says your ex-missing Father.   He has walked into His identity of being Father.   It's up to us to surrender, like Jesus did when He came to Earth, to walking into our identity as His child.   When we do, I picture an angel in Heaven echoing the timeless words of Ross Geller, "PIVOT!"



Father,
Thank you being our daddy.  For not just being a name on the birth certificate, but for walking with us through life every step.  Thank you that you will never leave us or forsake us.  You will never abandon us and leave us fatherless.  You are the Father to the Fatherless.  You are our provider, protector, covering.  Nothing we can ever do will separate us from you except our own choice for you love us enough to let us choose.  Father, today I pray those reading this will walk a little deeper into their identity of who they are as your child.  They will know that whatever they need is found is you and rest in your arms. 

In Jesus' Name,
Amen

And that's a wrap.....

Every year my children hear the story.   They roll their eyes a little because they know it so well.  When I was a child, we didn't have much money.   I did have a mom who didn't want that to stand in the way of us getting the gifts she wanted to give to at Christmas.   One year the contents of the linen closet swaddled the gifts under the tree.   Little gifts were wrapped in hand and dish towels.   Medium sized gifts wrapped in bath towels and a big gift was wrapped in a sheet.  In spite of the wrapping, my eyes glistented with anticipation and I was squealing with delight, eager to unearth the treasures.  Oh how I long for the innocence of that little girl.

At the heart of not caring about the how the presents were wrapped, was a belief in the giver.   I knew my mom.  She was the most generous and loving person on the planet.  She gave up her entire life to care for me and my sister when my dad, well, that's another chapter that isn't important here.   Mama put us above herself and she loved us.  She wanted us to have the best.  Sure, she couldn't wrap it in pretty paper and later she told me that she remembered that Christmas well.  Money was tight.  She had to make a decision between spending money on gifts or wrapping paper.  And since the paper was going to wadded up tossed in the trash in a matter of seconds, she chose the gifts.   One wise woman!

I want to remember that lesson this season.  It's often so easy to leave a gift unopened because of how it is wrapped, but what if we trust the heart of the giver we won't be disappointed.  I've seen it more times then I can count, but first, I had to take a chance.  In truth, I've probably learned more from the people who were people I wouldn't usually interact with.  (Insert so many stories here)

I also know that some things we are given are not from the best giver, but God has a way of redeeming the rotten gifts even when we so badly wish just for an exchange.  (Insert so many stories here too).  One of the most personal ones for me revolves around my mama.  She was my mama and my daddy to me.  She was my safe place and my best friend in so many ways.  Losing her during the days when I was battling being a mom to a daughter who was battling cancer was almost too much to handle.  But God has redeemed it, now, he's helping me grow more every day in my identity as his daughter, not just mom's.   He's even given me a next door neighbor who is so eerily similar to my mom it couldn't be anyone but God redeeming that loss.  Sarah even thinks of this neighbor as a surrogate grandma and they sit and watch Jeopardy and go shopping together and the list goes on and on.  The enemy wanted to take me out by taking my mama, my God said not today, satan, what satan intends for evil, God intends for good.  It is up to us to decide which giver we trust.

In the season, one can't help to pause a moment and reflect on the manger wrappings too.   The people expected the Messiah to be a certain way.  (Side note: how often do we expect people to be a certain way for a role in our lives and we don't even glance their way because they are not x,y, and z. ) . People missed the gift because they couldn't believe He would be swaddled in rags and as a baby.  A baby who would need to grow in his humanness while complete as God himself!

A few years ago, my children gave an amazing gift!   I don't know what was in the box, but they wrapped it in a towel.  They had heard my story for so many years and they knew how deeply personal it was for me and how it represented love in a way that wouldn't make sense for most people.   This season, may you see the heart of the giver and not get wrapped up in the wrappings.  Relax and receive and be grateful.

And that's a wrap....