An “Ah-ha!” Moment at Epiphany

Do you feel the oddity of still seeing Christmas lights in people’s yards and homes?

Thursday evening my bride and I returned from dining out and swung by a church member’s home to view her exuberant display of Christmas lights and decorations. She lives in a townhouse complex and upon entering the property there was no doubt which house was hers! It stood out in joyful contrast to the drab darkness of every other residence. Blazing from her tiny yard were inflatables, flickering lights, running lights, colored lights, white lights, and flashing lights. A veritable feast of light in the darkness.

My friend assured me that just a few days ago the entire circle was full of lights and decorations but now the only ones shining are hers. Neighbors have asked her why and she has rightly replied, “Because the celebration is just getting started!” I’m sure her answer has brought skeptical looks and shaking heads, but I also imagine it has inspired children to peek through their windows one last time before bed.

The drive through town confirmed this oddity. Gone were the lighted trees on the square. The ginger bread men and the tin soldiers guarding the pharmacy were reassigned to duties in the storage room. The lights on the power poles lining our main street had already been taken down for another year. But wait! There stands venerable Siloam Baptist still bedecked for the season with the word “JOY” shouting out into the silence. But (sigh), right next door was the bank already returned to making loans, counting coins, and cashing checks with no adornment in sight. And then, turning into our driveway, we were greeted by Santa holding high a lantern and the flickering glow of battery powered candles in the windows, welcoming us and beckoning others to “see the light”.

Ephiphany is defined as “a sudden insight or intuitive understanding.” The strangeness of lights on houses that Thursday evening provoked this very response from me. I suddenly understood just how strange followers of Christ must seem to a world held captive in darkness. I also recognized how unavoidably attractive and confrontational this is. The contrast between my friend’s home and those surrounding her was undeniable and stark. Likewise the adorned doors and beautiful bows on the Baptist church sang a different tune than the rest of the town. The eye was immediately drawn to the joyful display. I believe the same is true for those who quietly, faithfully follow Christ.

Jesus said in Matthew 5:14, “You are the light of the world…let your light shine before others, so they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” The apostle Paul picks up this note in his letter to the Philippian church where he says, “prove yourselves to be blameless and guileless, innocent and uncontaminated, children of God without blemish in the midst of a [morally] crooked and [spiritually] perverted generation, among whom you are seen as bright lights [beacons shining out clearly] in the world [of darkness].” (Philippians 2:15, The Amplified Bible).

There is a bit of sadness for me today. I will not deny it. The lights will come down and boxes of decorations will be carried back up the stairs to their closet until Advent rolls around again. But, in an unintentional yet significant action, my bride will leave our flickering candles in the windows just because she likes how they look; I like how they remind me, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)

I leave you with this beautiful meditation on undecorating by my bride’s childhood friend, Dr. Daniel Potts.

UNDECORATING

It’s always a bit embarrassing.
Our tree stays up with a parched throat
‘til needles fly when the heat vent coughs
and neighbors’ trees lie out by the road.

I’m the reason for it, I think, still searching
with my gifts for the Child, expecting
an elusive Epiphany.

Some say Christmas has come.
I say it keeps coming.

In ways, taking down the tree means
packing up the party, throwing out the card,
muting the carol.

Eventually each finger lends its ring.
The dove’s song is silenced.
Elves go into hiding.
Every bell lays down its clapper.
Ribbon rolls up the red carpet
since the New Year has come.

Again I walk the stations of a child.
Nothing seems more sacred
than stories, sounds, and smells of home.

Each ornament is laid to rest
in a mausoleum of memories.
A tree is never known so well
as when it’s taken down.

As the last lid closes,
I think I hear a baby crying.

A Dreaded Joy

What happens when there is nothing to fill the perceived void? No welcoming blue light from my device promising a fleeting reprieve. No Saturday college football to give me false victory or false defeat. No tub of BlueBell ice cream to soothe some inner discomfort. No “Likes” on my latest post to affirm my worth and to let me know someone sees me. No ____ (you fill in the blank…). This is my great fear as I step into unprecedented space.

The challenge of this adventure will be very real. Physically, I have never tried to walk this far in one outing before. Psychologically, I have never been solo while backpacking. Practically, I have never not been exactly sure when I would complete my journey. Can I do it? We will see!

What other’s fears for me are not my fears.

• What if you get lost? I’ve never been lost. Misplaced, yes. Lost, never. Additionally, the modern safety nets of GPS and 911 are readily available.
• What about bears? They are disinterested in me as much as I am amazed by them. A little wise camp keeping and they are not a problem. (For the record, to appease some who are deeply concerned about this possibility, I am carrying some pepper spray. I am much more likely to use it on two-legged creatures than any four-legged ones.)
• What if it rains? I will get wet. Thankfully God made me waterproof! And there is good quality weather gear readily available.
• What will you eat? Oatmeal, rice, power bars, peanut butter, jerky, dried fruit, even a little Spam for some salt and fat.
• What if you break something? Always a possibility, but that is also a possibility at home. Take care and pay attention where you step, a lot like at home.
• Won’t you get cold? Maybe, but I can get warm. A good uphill walk, a bright fire, a good meal, a warm sleeping bag are all good solutions to being cold.
• Aren’t you afraid of the dark? Not anymore. I’ve learned that when it is dark the stars are the brightest, and I love seeing the stars in all their glory. Oh sure, there will be something that goes “bump” in the night somewhere along the way but it will most likely bump right along without bothering me.

Far and away that which I fear most is not what I may encounter out there, rather it is what I carry within. With no space to escape I must flatly and frankly deal with myself and with God. And I know what that means. It is why I so often avoid such moments. You see, I know the darkness I carry.

Wilderness is where you go to meet God. It’s true! As you read your Bible, every time you see someone in the wilderness you can bet they are about to have a God-sized, life-altering encounter with the Creator. I have a growing suspicion this is why so many avoid much time out of doors. Sure mosquitoes, snakes, and spiders are good excuses to avoid those spaces, but I suspect they are scapegoats for deeper concerns of what might happen if we truly got quiet for a bit. What if God did speak to us?!?

Wilderness is where you go to meet God … As you read your Bible, every time you see someone in the wilderness you can bet they are about to have a God-sized, life-altering encounter with the Creator.

This scares me and thrills me all at once. What if I do, in fact, encounter Him? What if, like Moses, He calls on me to do something I know is beyond me? Or, what if, like Elijah, He asks me what I’m doing way out here? Or worse, what if, like Jeremiah, He says “You think you’re weary while running with men, what will you do, Jeremiah, when you have to run with the horses?” Or, what if He finds me and says, “Come to me, weary and burdened one, and I will give you rest for your soul.“; could I believe it to be true?

“Every day God invites us on the same kind of adventure. It’s not a trip where He sends us a rigid itinerary, He simply invites us. God asks what it is He’s made us to love, what it is that captures our attention, what feeds that deep indescribable need of our souls to experience the richness of the world He made. And then, leaning over us, He whispers, “Let’s go do that together.”

Bob Goff

So, the backpack is loaded, the map has been checked yet again, the walking staff stands ready, and the weather looks amazing. By the time you read this my feet will be taking me north along the Bartram Trail. Who knows what stories await me?

I may even share some of them with you upon my return.