Ecce Ancilla Domini!

This painting by Dante Gabriel Rosetti captured my imagination this morning.  It is entitled:  Ecce Ancilla Domini!, or "The Handmaiden of the Lord." 

I have been reading from the Revised Common Lectionary lately.  It has wonderful scripture selections that coordinate with Advent, and it includes related artwork, where I came across this oil painting from the mid-1800s. 

I read the fascinating account from Luke, where Mary is visited by an angel bearing life-altering news. 

Luke 1:26-38
1:26 In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth,

1:27 to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary.

1:28 And he came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you."

1:29 But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.

1:30 The angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.

1:31 And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus.

1:32 He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.

1:33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end."

1:34 Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?"

1:35 The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.

1:36 And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren.

1:37 For nothing will be impossible with God."

1:38 Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.

Most art related to The Annunciation of Mary shows her in peaceful contemplation, but Rosetti rejected this.  Look at her.  Startled awake.  Recoiling.  Unsure.  It must be a more accurate representation of a person's reaction to a visit from an angel.

I wonder how much time passed between this visit and Mary sitting down to write the Magnificat.  How long does it take drastic news to settle on a person, to burrow its way into acceptance, to be embraced and magnified by the soul.  How much pondering must take place before you can treasure it all up? 

I know, these are deep, rhetorical questions for a Tuesday morning.  Maybe I'll just close with a few the words from my song, All These Things (CD:Herald),  inspired by this tender shoot of a woman.

All these things I treasure up

and I ponder them within my heart

and they change me

 and they move me

to follow hard after God

Things I did not want to happen, not my plan

I didn't understand

I did not know if I would bend under the weight

or if I would break

All the pieces of the portrait of my life,

shadows and light

shadows and light

Then the message of the angel in the the night

pointing out the way that is right



Cookies and Apologies

I learned a hard lesson about honor yesterday.  The stage was set for a lovely afternoon of baking with Nana.  The tree was twinkling, the Christmas music was playing, the counter was covered with all things delicious and fattening, and we were ready to make our traditional favorites:  Scandinavian almond bars, double dip chocolate bon bons, and Amish sugar cookies to decorate. 

I handed my mom an envelope, which included a Snapfish picture card of the kids and my annual Christmas letter.  She read the letter and chuckled here and there at my comments.  You see, I try to make my letters a real glimpse into our lives, and not pretend our lives are perfect (that would be pretending!)

The problem came when Grace asked my mom to read the letter aloud.  As she began to read in her gentle voice, I instantly panicked.  I knew there was a certain line in there that would offend Gracie's tender little heart, even if it was true.  So I whispered into my mom's ear to skip that line, which she did.  Gracie, however, was on to me. 

About 5 minutes after we put the letter away, she came up to me and earnestly asked to read the letter.  My heart fell.  I knew this was not going to go well, but that I had to honor her request.   I gave her the letter, she read the telltale line, and then she hurried up the stairs in tears.  I followed her, feeling terrible.  All kinds of hurt tumbled from her mouth.  "How could you, Mom?"  I really didn't have a good answer.  I knew she wouldn't understand if I explained, "I was trying to be real, to encourage others with our foibles.  See, I put funny stuff about myself, too." 

I just said, "I'm sorry, Grace.  You're right, it wasn't nice.  I will change it.  I will tear open every sealed and stamped envelope, and replace the letter." 

She reluctantly accepted my offer.  I knew she didn't want to miss the afternoon of baking to sulk.  She taught me how careless I can be with my words, and that I have to remember she is not quite at the age where she can laugh at her own weaknesses. 

There are so many warnings in the Bible about bridling our tongue.  Today, I choose this one to tuck in my mouth:

Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!  Psalm 141:3

I continue to struggle with how to use my voice to encourage and tell stories about my life that are real and true, while still honoring those in my family.  Perhaps today, you can learn from one of my many mistakes. 

When the Season Draws You Deeper

This time of year sends me swimming in nostalgia.  I purchase a new ornament for the children each year, to represent their interests and stage of life, and as the delicate icons came out of their tissue wrap, I am swept back over the years.  Winnie-the-Pooh, Cub Scout, ballerina, tea cup and saucer, Care Bear, pink pony.  You can imagine the burden on the boughs as they hold memories of 3 kids and 18 years of marriage. 

We have a second little tree in our master bedroom.  We call it the anniversary tree, and it holds ornaments selected each year of our marriage, beginning on our honeymoon.  On a yellowing slip of paper, I write down the year we bought each ornament and what it represents.   Pink booties for Megan's arrival, a tiny picture of the house we built, a little gold cruise ship, a butterfly to remind us of "Songs with Wings, " one of the CDs we made together. 


Sometimes I imagine the timeline of my life, from birth to now.   It doesn't look like the straight time lines that come in our homeschool curriculum, ready to write dates and paste pictures.  It looks a bit like an irregular heart monitor print-out, with blips like peaks and valleys.  There are big valleys that made my heart pound.  There are moments when the peaks are off the page, so mountainous were they.


Upon each event on this time line, I can stamp a promise of God.


1991:  I have suddenly, joyously drawn near to God, after 20 years of wandering.  This peak is stamped with Romans 10:9  If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.


1993:  I am crying.  Dave has lost his job right before our wedding.  This valley is stamped with Jeremiah 29:11  For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.


2000:  I am looking bleakly at a toddler and a baby.  My husband is in Asia for 3 weeks.  I am downcast, feeling far from God and wondering, "who am I?"  This valley is stamped with Romans 8:38-39  And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.


2005:  I am laying passed out in a pool of blood on the bathroom tile.  The baby is gone and I am in the valley of God's cupped hand.  It is stamped with Job 1:21  The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.


2007:  God is doing a new thing in me;  He is painting a vision on my heart for a music ministry.  The peak is nearly off the page! Isaiah 43:18-19  Forget what has happened.  Don't keep going over old history.  Be alert.  Be present.  I am about to do something brand new!  It's bursting out, don't you see it?


2011:  I am feeling in the center of God's will, doing what I love.  Homeschooling, songwriting and performing, serving others with my children, giving out of God's generosity to me.  All this stamped with Ecclesiastes 5:19  Moreover, when God gives a man wealth and possessions, and enables him to enjoy them, to accepts his lot and be happy with his works--this is a gift of God.


Someday, any day really, the time line will end.  There is a stamp ready for that moment:  Revelations 22:4 They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever.