“Come & See…”

Advent is a season of anticipation, and each year I find myself looking for two things: perfect and imperfect.

As I wrote about here, I look for that moment when the Spirit of Christmas arrives. When I can’t shut out sublime tears, when goosebumps shake me with shivers of joy and revelry and hope: Christmas is coming! Christ is coming!

That describes the perfect Christmas moment. I also look for the imperfect, the things that remind me that all will be well even though nothing on earth will be perfect, that my longings will never be perfectly fulfilled, that I myself and all my striving will still result in something less than. I wrote about that here and here, and this year I laughed every time I looked at our evergreen wreath sticking out its silly tongue at me…wreath-silly

I look for these moments, these encounters. I seek miracles in the mundane. And yet, I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not all that observant.

My maternal grandmother collected Hummel figurines. She’s gone now so I can’t ask when she got the first one, which one?, or how she decided to collect them. She was my grandma, my Mor-Mor, and Hummels were her precious thing. I never thought to ask.

Mor-Mor gave me my first Hummel, from her collection, when Guy and I got engaged. Over years she gave me one, then another, then a couple; I don’t have many but I have some. Truly, they’re not my taste but they feel like a tangible connection to one of my most dearly beloveds, and so I treasure them.

I wish I remembered the occasion on which she gave me Mary and Joseph. I found them a home in our display case and for many Christmases I have forgotten to put them out, precisely because they have a permanent rather than seasonal home. This year, though, as we were “behind” in our typical decorating game, I plucked and placed them center-mantel.

A few days later a friend asked if I had a creche we could use to adorn a Christmas brunch table; I texted her a picture of my Hummels. She replied (with a chuckle, I imagine), “Except, Mary is holding Jesus, so that might be post-creche…?”mary-joseph

Egads! I hadn’t noticed Jesus! I hadn’t noticed that this wasn’t Joseph and Mary en route to Bethlehem but, more likely, fleeing to Egypt! I kept them front-and-center to remind me that Christmas is not about my vision of perfect but about Jesus who is Perfect.

Sadly, I feel like I fled through this Advent, more hustle-bustle than present to the moment. The To-Do List eclipsed attempts at a To-Be List and I found myself squelching sobs through Christmas Eve and Christmas Day services, feeling so not ready for Christmas…

I don’t want to flee through life, living on the run. I want to live in the moment, fully present, listening, seeing, full-body sensing what’s going on around me, what God is doing in and around me. The To-Do List will always be longer, but I want the To-Be list to matter.

Mostly, I want To BE with Jesus, the little guy in arms I hadn’t noticed, The Big Guy who holds me close, who holds together all things–including me.

Like the first disciples, I want to hear–and respond, and mostly, to follow–Jesus’ invitation to “Come and See.” I want eyes to see Him. I want to spend time with Him. I want to let Him change up my priorities. I want to be so excited about who He is and what He is doing that it becomes easy, essential, to issue that same invitation: Come and See…

Come & See
Week 1 – John 1:35-51

Connect
What sights would you like to be invited to come and see?

Study
Read John 1:35-51.
Notice all the words that have to do with sight (look, see, find…). What role does sight play in our relationship with Jesus?
What can we learn from this passage, both in how people refer to Him and in what He says/does, about who Jesus is?
Describe the steps of their transformation as these first disciples encounter Jesus (John pointed Jesus out, they followed, they spent time with Him…).
In vv. 43-45, Jesus “found” Philip but Philip tells Nathanael they have “found” Jesus. What truth does that convey about our relationship with Him?
How is Nathanael’s response to hearing about Jesus different than the others (v. 46)? What different responses have you witnessed when people hear about Jesus?
Jesus offers a word of truth to Simon (v. 42) and Nathanael (v. 47). What might that have been like?

Live
What helps you see Jesus? Or, how do you spend time with Jesus?
Compare the first disciples’ “come and see” evangelism approach to contemporary approaches. How is it like/unlike? How might it influence your own style?
Jesus spoke blessing to Simon and Nathanael. Do you think people expect blessing or curses from Jesus? Explain.
Who would you like to bring to Jesus? What would you tell them about Him?
What does this passage communicate about what it means to be Jesus’ disciple? About how to grow as Jesus’ disciple?
What is Jesus saying to you through this study, and how will you respond?

Pray
Pray that the Spirit will open your eyes to see God in all your circumstances, and that He will give you opportunities to bring others with you to come and see Jesus.

Spelling Bee

Tween participated in the school-wide spelling bee. Placing in the top two in his classroom bee, he joined seventeen other 3rd through 5th graders. All winners before they hit the stage, Tween made it to 4th place.

Miraculous, as years ago experts predicted that given his particular set of learning (dis)abilities, his spelling level wouldn’t exceed third grade.

Watch this kid surpass his doctors’ expectations – woo hoo!

Similar to the well-known stages of grief, Tween passed through several Stages of Anticipation:

At first, he was over-the-moon excited. Giddy, jumping around, couldn’t stop talking.

Next came anxiety with a dash of denial. Let’s not talk about it unless we’re so anxious we have to talk about it.

Then, annoyance: “Mom, I Do Not want to practice spelling!”

Followed by acceptance, “Mom, can we practice spelling?” (Snuggles).

I came up with an unorthodox strategy: I checked out a DVD of Akeelah and the Bee from our fantastic local library. We watched it over two nights after homework and dinner, me pausing the show periodically to quiz Tween on a word (Guy declared it the worst movie-watching experience ever; I argued that we were studying!).

We talked about anxiety and desire, gumption, determination, and overcoming expectations. Tween’s parents watched the power of storytelling wash over him as he joined Akeelah on her journey from inner-city closeted smart kid to National Spelling Bee champion.

From no-dream to pipe-dream to day-dream to reality, Tween caught the spirit.

Finally motivated, he let me quiz him as I inwardly marveled at his ability to spell words I couldn’t imagine he’d seen before and outwardly praised him like crazy for his hard work.

The night before the bee he crawled into bed and buried himself in covers. Overwhelmed, he began to criticize everything about himself – body and brain. You know those moments, when nerves take over and you just can’t see how anything you are or do could possibly be good enough?

I made him look me in the eyes. Firmly, I said, “You do your best and let God do the rest” (thanks, Mom, for that little pearl of wisdom!). “And I will be proud of you No Matter What.”

Morning of, he turned ornery when I suggested he Dress for Success: “Did you read that in one of your magazines?” (Ugh, Adolescent Sassy-Butt, I only requested that he put on a polo-style shirt with his jeans. “But Mom, NO ONE else will wear anything special, you just watch.” Bummer, he was mostly right). After he left for school, I insisted that Guy and I also Dress for Success to honor his efforts.

As Guy and I entered the auditorium to join other parents seated on benches lining the back wall, the school principal called us over. “I have to ask,” he began, “but do you live in a zoo?”

The bee participants had filled out questionnaires about themselves and one of the questions asked about family pets. “I was just wondering how many of these animals Tween listed might actually still be living with you?”

We glanced over his shoulder at Tween’s paper and laughed. He had listed all of our 3 cats, 3 leopard geckos, 2 dogs, 2 snakes, 1 tortoise, and 1 betta fish by name and species. All except for the newest snake which he listed as “ball python (I forgot its name).”

Um, yes, we live in a zoo of sorts. We’re a little nuts.

National Spelling Bee rules at play, kids could only ask two questions about their word. They could ask for a definition, to hear it repeated or in a sentence, word origin (nobody asks that at this level), but only two questions.

I held my breath each time Tween stood up. He spelled words we had studied and words we hadn’t studied. He spoke straight into the microphone, loud and clear, no mumbling. An astonished parent turned to us: “He’s so confident!”

He made it through six rounds. Down to four spellers, Tween’s word elicited hushed gasps from nearby parents:

“Please spell jocularity.”

Parents whispered, “What did he say? What does that mean?”

According to Merriam-Webster: “Given to jesting, jolly.” Actually a pretty good descriptor for Tween.

It hadn’t been on the provided spelling lists. I looked it up in the children’s dictionary he and every other 2nd grader in town received from the local Kiwanis club and, guess what? It’s not in there.

This is not a kid-friendly spelling word, folks.

He hadn’t asked a single question so far, but this time he asked for a definition and a sentence, and then he asked to hear it repeated; he asked three questions, so the principal would not repeat the word.

“Jocularity. Hmm, J-O-C-um…hmm…K…?-U-L-A-R-I-T-Y. Jocularity.”

“Thank you for participating.” Applause.

He walked across the gym and took a seat on the floor with his classmates, high-fiving along the way. He smiled. Clearly disappointed, he put up a good face.

Of course he added a K. Wouldn’t you? Or maybe you wouldn’t, but you might have in 5th grade. Jocularity sounds an awful lot like jock.

The next word: havoc
And: thyme
And I no longer remember the winning word, but it wasn’t nearly so hard as jocularity.

When a winner had been declared, parents stuck around for hugs and pictures and congratulations. The principal personally congratulated Tween, commending him for doing so well and encouraging him that a “ck” made perfect sense, even if it was incorrect.

Bee participants

Bee participants

Rightfully proud of himself – the kid mouthed the correct spelling to every single word in the bee from his place in the back row – and kicking himself at the same time, Tween glowed. But when we picked him up after school three hours later, he glowered. The luck of the draw had not been on his side, and he was angry at Misfortune.

So we made a big deal to celebrate the miracle: we gave him the choice between Slurpees or ice cream (Slurpees won). We spelled jocularity back and forth to one another for the rest of the day; no one in this household will ever stumble over an added K again. We met friends at the park and they expressed admiration for his serious spelling skills. We thanked God for the gift of a spelling adventure. For fun in the process. For a new appreciation of the power of studying well. And for the experience as a whole.

You might even say we acted a wee bit jocular in our miraculous spelling celebration!