I’m not sure when trimming the Christmas tree dropped out of the top ten Christmas activities in my opinion. Somewhere along the line I lost the magic of transforming the green bush into the sparkling personification of Christmas. It may have been, now that I think about it, back in high school when I realized my mom was tricking my friends and me into doing “her” job by offering pizza and cookies. It was a brilliant ploy, and one that I’ve used successfully around here, as well.

But today is the day. And by the end of the day I will be thrilled with it all, entranced, sitting in my living room with the lights low thinking about how it was all worth it. And it will be, once again, magical.

I read something today about Christmas trees that has me thinking.

We bring an essentially dead tree to our home. We water it and give it fresh cuts to keep the water flowing. Some people swear by misting their trees. Yet no matter what we do…the tree is dead. At best we’re giving a form of life support to keep up appearances. Without roots, without a healthy, though essentially unseen, delivery system for nutrients and contact with the ground, the tree is dead.

This Christmas as we’ve been contemplating the Advent Conspiracy and ways to celebrate Christmas differently, I want to make sure I’m not like my Christmas tree. I want to make sure my roots aren’t severed from the source of life. There’s no sense in making myself appear decorated with a bounty of tinsel, ornaments, garland. I’d rather spend the time rooted and grounded, connected to God and my family and the things that matter the most.

I want to live more this Christmas.

Our friend Timmy Allen created this video for Advent Conspiracy at Christ Fellowship this year. I think it’s awesome. And someday (tomorrow, I think!) I’m going to make my acting debut as a stick model in one of his productions. Check this out. And then think about ways to grow your roots deeper this Christmas.

The Advent Conspiracy – Enter the Story from Timmy Allen on Vimeo.

The Freedom Tower...still only about 2/3 of its eventual height!

It was classic New York City: crossing the bridge into the city and watching the magnificent skyline against the perfect fall sky. I couldn’t have scripted the ride any better. I pointed out a few of the landmark buildings to Kylie and Jillian, even though both of them had been here before and were pretty much ready to roll their eyes in my direction at any minute. They do that once in awhile when I’m being, well, Mom.

“Over there, to the left…do you see the construction lights?”

I was startled by our cab driver jumping into the conversation. David found the lights he was pointing out.

“That is the Freedom Tower. At Ground Zero.”

It was obvious that the driver was proud of the tower. Having just watched Rising (a documentary about the tower project), I was, too. So thrilled to see it start to take its place in the iconic skyline. I pondered the tower. To me it represents the God-given drive in humans to create, and recreate, their world. It represents the refusal to let evil triumph. It represents the global community that coalesced around the project, and the people who lost their lives in that spot. It also represents the people who are giving their lives to healing. Healing the people, healing the city, healing the skyline. The Freedom Tower. What a great name.

The driver wasn’t quite finished yet.

“I’ve been wondering,” he said after revealing he was from Pakistan, “about the difference between some of your words. Can you explain to me the difference between Liberty and Freedom?”

Wow.

Not as easy as it sounds at first. David and I both took a crack at it, and the conversation filled the ride to the hotel. It turns out that our Pakistani driver had a master’s degree in American History, a degree he earned back in Pakistan as he anticipated moving to America. For just a few moments we were able to see New York City through the eyes of this man, the eyes of a man who worked hard and sacrificed everything to point out the construction lights on the floors of the Freedom Tower.

I think that’s what I love about New York City. Things aren’t always what they seem. Sometimes the epiphany — the moment of blinding insight — comes from the most unlikely sources. An epiphany can be around every corner. Probably is. If you look for it.

We were heading to a conference on using “Story” to create epiphanies. David and I would spend days learning from experts how to create compelling stories. It was amazing and overwhelming and full of useful information.

But the epiphany moment of our Qideas Epiphany Workshop was delivered by a Pakistani driver crossing the bridge into a city he couldn’t wait to show us.

It slips my mind, sometimes, that someone reading my posts may not know where they are written. With very few exceptions, most of my writing is done in Starbucks. If I didn’t write the actual post there, I at least scribbled notes to remind me later of the direction I’m going to take.

I don’t know all the reasons why Starbucks is my choice, but one of them is because it simply isn’t HOME. I can come here and focus, be myself, daydream and create. At home, well there’s laundry to be done, a new magazine in the mail, roaming dogs who terrorize me at every opportunity. The stuff of life. I connect with myself better — sometimes — when I’m not so surrounded by myself.

The other day I listened to two guys do the same at Starbucks. One was a regular, Dan, and I never caught the other’s name. Let’s call him Fred. These two guys began jabbering, and when I got up to go, literally two hours later, they were still jabbering. In the course of the hours they covered politics (conservative, but Dan has a liberal bent that inclines him to social justice), chiropractic (Fred is a chiropractor, and was convincing Dan — accurately in my humble opinion! — that chiropractic care could help him recover from his recent shoulder surgery), the military (both served, one flew planes, the other loved them). They covered their families, their work habits, their Starbucks drinks. They circled back around to why character and integrity matter in politics more than party affiliation, though each were registered Republicans. In short, they connected.

It was a life group in action. What do you call it at your church? At ours, during various moments, they have been life groups, journey groups, small groups, affinity groups. Whatever your definition, these two men joined a small group.

But let me ask you this question: when was the last time you saw two men begin with a passing nod acquaintance and end up with an intimacy and a feeling of belonging to the same tribe over the course of two hours?

That’s the genius of living life out in the community, in third places, shoulder to shoulder with your neighbors and strangers. Alan Hirsch, in his new book RIght Here Right now, says that “We have to be able to speak meaningfully into a culture, but in order to do that, we have to seriously examine a given culture for clues to what God is doing among a people….what is good new for THIS people?” My friend Dan was doing that. He was listening to Fred and conversing with him where he was at, the conversation meandering. And because it took place in this third place, others were welcome to join in or not. Some did, interacting as long as time and circumstances allowed. Others didn’t, living their own lives.

Either way, small group was had here in Starbucks, and a whole bunch of us got to join in.

I’m making the choice to go for community wherever possible. After all, I’m, pretty sure that’s where Jesus hung out. I just wonder if he’d have picked MY Starbucks!

Now as far as national holidays go, I realize Groundhog Day may not rank at the top of your list. But it’s pretty close to the top of mine!

It all started, of course, with the movie, Groundhog Day, starring Andie MacDowell and Bill Murray. Poor Bill Murray is stuck in a loop of an endlessly repeating day, a day which he gets to relive in almost any way you can imagine. Some days he makes creative use of his time (ice sculptures, reading French poetry, learning the piano). Other days he rescues people who have the misfortune of getting hurt or dying on Groundhog Day. In one memorable sequence, he commits suicide in any way he can think of. Each morning, waking up again to good old Sonny and Cher singing Babe.

It’s your basic movie that some people love and others can’t stand.

But that’s not why I love Groundhog Day, it’s just the start.

Because Groundhog Day started and symbolized something amazing. You see, when we were first married we became friends with Danny and Kim Butler, 25 years ago. They were another young couple just starting out in the church we attended back then, and we began to do life together. Year by year, kid by kid we have piled up memories together. Some of the memories have been unbearably sad, like the night we were out to dinner and interrupted by my father-in-law telling me that my brother had just been killed by a drunk driver. Some memories are whimsical, such as the way their daughter Jessi could literally shimmy up a person and wind up in your arms before you knew she was even there. Some memories make us belly laugh, like the night Jessi and Kylie “cleaned” Jillian’s room for her so she could sleep in her new crib (at the age of two or three days old) by sprinkling her room with Comet.

In the same year that Kylie and Jessi baptized Jillian’s room and floor in Comet, we discovered Groundhog Day, the movie. And lo and behold, we all had the quirky sense of humor required to watch that one day over and over again. Our other friends did not share our delight. So each year the Butlers would pack up their teeny kids, we would pop a Sillyville video in the kid’s room, and then we adults would watch Groundhog Day as near to February 2 as possible.

We’ve missed some years due to schedules. We’ve reached milestones where our kids were allowed to join us for the “Grownups” movie. We’ve even reached milestones where our kids laugh at us for Groundhog Day, schedule an alternate date, and head out the door.

Now you should know me by now. This post isn’t really about Groundhog Day at all. It’s about how incredibly blessed and thankful I am, year by year, to know that I have friends doing life with me. When days of mourning come, they are there. When days of celebration come, they know what flavor of ice cream to bring. They KNOW us.

I know that the Butlers — and a select handful of other friends — would be the first to ring our doorbell or barge in the house if David or I needed confrontation in any area of our lives. Should we step out from under the umbrella of God’s protection, we’d face their wrath. I also know that they would lay down their lives to bring us back into fellowship with God and with the family of God. I know this. I trust this.

Do you have friends like that? Are you willing to live your life in such radical, open transparency that words aren’t even necessary?

I hope the answer is yes. Because friends like Danny and Kim can make a holiday like Groundhog Day into a holy-day of knowing that life in the kingdom is meant to be lived with each other. In community. Together.

So…It’s Groundhog Day!!!!!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUi1PdYn5nk

Yes, here we are...all of us!

Indulge me in just a little rambling about our family for a moment. Last week we returned from our family reunion in Park City, Utah. I had never been to Utah, but after this trip I know two things: it’s beautiful and it is cold! All 20 of us from five states gathered together for a few days of skiing, spa and family dinners. My mom spent her days with babies, which filled her love tank with lots of slurpy kisses and hugs. My favorite part of the day was the end, after all the skiing was done, the food was eaten and the dishes put away. Then we sat around in a big family circle and either played games, video games or just sat and caught up. We laughed a lot. And over the course of the trip it was so special to see how much we all appreciated each other.

Friday night, four days after we’d arrived, my Mom looked around the room and said, “This is so nice. It’s just…all of us. Here.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself, Mom.

The view out one of our condo windows. So pretty!

It’s an old saying and you have undoubtably heard it before. I last heard it when my Pastor, at a leadership conference, was encouraging leaders to be BOLD in their choices.

“You miss 100% of the shots you never take.”

And it’s true, right? This sports analogy has encouraged us to be bolder in our decision to step to the line and shoot. Go out there and do the Nike thing…just do it.

It’s a great motivator, but I am just so not a sports-type girl. I get it, but I have no desire whatsoever to take any shots. None.

Yesterday, however, my friend Steve Helm, a pastor at Woodlands Church in Texas, put that quote into a whole new light for me. Retweeting my Pastor, he said this:

Leaders be BOLD! You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. Espresso your life!!!!!!

Oh. Now this I understand.

Think about it: why in the world would you want to drink a Frappuccino without the coffee shots? It’s just a milk shake. Why settle for a weak brew when you can add some espresso shots and transform it into energy, depth of flavor, pure coffee heaven?

What would our lives look like if we “espresso our lives”?

Would we be so excited to get up in the morning and see what’s new in God’s kingdom?

Would we be unable to stop the flow of creative energy?

Would new ideas no longer seem daunting, but completely doable?

Would we have more depth and exhibit more complexity of character in our faith and our attitudes?

And what about those infamous missed shots? How many times have we been standing in front of an incredible opportunity and missed it just because of fatigue, fear, uncertainty or complacency? We have all had phenomenal works of God come about because of one teeny, tiny first step that we took. Chain reactions get started that echo from earth to heaven. I have a friendship that is becoming precious to me and it started because of a rainstorm and my husband giving up his seat on a boat to a soaking wet woman. My friend and I have now walked through an amazing adoption (hers! No new announcements!)  and are starting to dream about new ways to impact the kingdom. All because of wet jeans and a caring act of kindness on David’s part. An espresso shot.

So what will it be? A cup of Folger’s? Or are you willing to go for it.

Take an espresso shot.

Gregory selling his copies of Spare Change in Harvard Square

As a sociological experiment, there is nothing like sitting in Harvard Square, in Cambridge Massachusetts. And if you can pick a day like I did last week, when the Square is bustling with new freshmen and scurrying students, so much the better. This spot sees constant international traffic, workers looking for lunch, alternative rockers (is that even a descriptive anymore?) and of course, its share of the homeless. In short, Harvard Square spans the spectrum from highest end intellectual professor to people fighting for survival. I love it!

On this day, I was watching a Spare Change vendor raucously selling papers to the lunchtime crowd. As you know, I am a big fan of the paper vendors. They have made a choice: they could be sitting with a creative homemade sign begging for donations. But they aren’t. They are trying to sell their papers. They pay a small amount for the newspaper — which focuses on issues pertaining to the homeless and is largely written by them — and they sell it for a dollar, or more if people feel so inclined.

Gregory is one of those naturally outgoing people. He compliments the passersby, who most often scurry away as quickly as possible. He calls out, “Oh young lady, you know I gotta ask.” A few people stop and chat. He gets a few buyers, and like any salesman he has his regulars. What amazes me, though, are the people who seem angry at Gregory. Why are they angry? He doesn’t touch anyone, or beg you for business or money. So why would the businessman spit out “Yeah right, buddy.” in that tone of voice that tells Gregory just where he stands on the social ladder? Does Gregory scare him? Remind him of good intentions not kept? Is he afraid of being Gregory?

I don’t know the answer. But I do know — quite honestly — that I prefer Gregory’s light hearted and friendly banter to the cold shoulders and hurry and scurry all around. It’s human. And it is real.

Thanks for being in the Square, Gregory.

?

I got home this week.

It’s odd, really, because I’ve also been home all month. I’ve been home in our condo in Lexington, or on the lake in New Hampshire where I’ve spent nearly every summer of my life. I breathe in the fresh air of those places and my inner sense of being profoundly at home is magnified.

And then I arrive back in Palm Beach Gardens, my own home, my real home.

I love the process of wandering through my rooms to see the bits and pieces of my life. I enjoy seeing what has changed (lots of people in and out of our home, even when we are gone!) and what has stayed the same. I smell the scent of the air, which is a limited-time opportunity because I know my nose will habituate in an hour or so. And then — if schedule permits — I leave.

Because part of my home is the Third Place, the places in my community that feel like home to me.

Contrary to popular opinion, Starbucks is not my first stop. Whole Foods is. If I can cook a meal and know there are good things to eat in my kitchen, my little universe is set right on its axis. And then comes Starbucks. Yesterday David and I sat here in my preferred corner of Sbux and watched the regulars float in and out. I was particularly struck with the sense of community yesterday. We were greeted like old friends by staff and customers alike, and then we learned that a barista’s father had passed away suddenly. There were sympathy cards to sign, and the story to repeat. Everyone had time to hear the story and send good wishes to the grieving barista, who is due back at work today. She misses her support system, and working behind the counter is where she wants to be.

A few minutes later I was listening to a businesses woman who regularly sits in the chair next to the best electrical outlet talk to one of the more eccentric men who wanders in and out. He hums as he walks, almost involuntarily, and repeats every sentence at least twice. Conversations with him take awhile, but she was enjoying time away from her cell phone and computer.

“My baby girl, my baby girl, that’s her right there,” he said, pointing at a car pulling up outside.

“She’s your girl? I know her!” business woman says. “Hey,” she continues, poking another regular who uses headphones seemingly to drown out conversations like this one. “Hey, you know that mom with the kids that come in here all the time? She’s his daughter!” The two of them remarked over this for a few minutes, to the joy of the proud papa.

“She is all I have left in the world,” he said. He went on to describe how his wife of 38 years had died a year or two ago in a horrible, quick death. He sat and mumbled “Unbelievable” ten or fifteen times while the two regulars said how sorry they were, but how much they always enjoyed his grandchildren when they were in the store. He brightened again, and stood up to hug his daughter.

I’ve done a lot of thinking about Third Places in the community, and the need for the missional-minded among us to be out and about in the community. Yesterday I realized that “out and about” can also feel a lot like being at home. And at least for a few minutes, this Third Place felt as if it were functioning an awful lot like the body of Christ, rejoicing and comforting and being there for life’s journey.

Even if it’s only for a short time, it sure felt good to be home.

Panera Bread is unsurpassed when it comes to defining a niche market. Think about it quickly: what do you think of when you think of Panera? Amazing food? Probably not.

I am sitting at Panera now. It is 2:45, a time when most lunch spot snare hunkered down preparing for dinner. They are usually barren. Not Panera. There are businessmen,students and retired people all over this restaurant. The common denominator? They are all on their computers, iPads and phones. Like me. Panera = free Internet. Perfect niche that fills the store all day long. The process, of course, builds community. There are regulars here as anywhere.

I am kind of melancholy today to tell you the truth. This particular Panera always reminds me of a conversation I had here years ago. His name was Joe, and we had gone to church with him for years. He was retired, and his wife was active in our children’s ministry. They were the friendly older couple always serving punch at every event, if you know what I mean. This particular day Joe was bussing our table. I looked up totally surprised.

“Joe do you work here?”

“Yep. For months now. I wouldn’t know what to do without the people here. They are like family. And I need the money.” This last bit surprised me, and something in his eyes made me wonder. I casually asked about his wife.

“Haven’t seen her. She divorced me four months ago. I am all alone.”

I was shocked. I KNEW these people well. I went to church with them, knew their family history. But in the environment of church, they had never reached out for help. In fact, as I thought about it, they had kind of dropped off the radar. It was a short conversation in Panera, but Joe was finally being transparent, honest.

That is the value of community third places like Panera, and why we need to be present in them. It is why the church — as glorious and life-giving as it is — can’t fill every need. Sometimes it takes a conversation in Panera.

Joe isn’t here today, and I am fairly sure he has left the area. But for an half an hour years ago we took the moments to connect authentically.

I am glad I stopped in here today to remember.

You and I can choose to continue with business as usual in the Christian life and in the church as a whole, enjoying success based on the standards defined by the culture around us. Or we can take an honest look at the Jesus of the Bible and dare to ask what the consequences might be if we really believed him and really obeyed him.

If Jesus is who he said he is, and if his promises are as rewarding as the Bible claims they are, then we may discover that satisfaction in our lives and success in the church are not found in what our culture deems most important, but in radical abandonment to Jesus.

Radical, by David Platt

There is a longing inside us — if we are honest — to discover that life is about more than it seems. I’m not willing to believe that life revolves around our next vacation, our next goal, the next business meeting. Are you? If you are about ready to go on a quest for that deeper meaning, then pause long enough to read the new book Radical, by David Platt. But be forewarned: it will mess with your mind and maybe even your life.

David gives us glimpses into people whose hearts and lives are sold out in radical devotion to Christ. Sometimes those people do crazy, counter-cultural things like living BELOW their income so they can give away more for the causes in the kingdom that stir their hearts and minds. Sometimes they actually sell it all and move. Sometimes — more often — they reorient their lives so that their values and their energy and their time all work toward the kingdom, rather than creating conflicting values in our day to day life. But it takes courage to step out of the rat race and choose a new path.

I could not help but think that somewhere along the way we had missed what is radical about our faith and replaced it with what is comfortable. We were settling for a Christianity that revolves around catering to ourselves when the central message of Christianity is actually about abandoning ourselves.

Abandoning ourselves is easier said than done. It costs to follow Christ the way he demands to be followed. Indeed, if you read the Bible carefully, he often tried to talk people out of following him! But the rewards for those who do…”We will discover that our meaning is found in community and our life is found in giving ourselves for the sake of others in the church, among the lost and among the poor.”

And that was only chapter one, folks.

Honestly, this book is not that long, but it reminded me that I am a member of the worldwide, global, historical church. It reminded me that there are billions (with a B) of people out there who have never heard the story of Christ and his amazing gift for us. It reminded me of the mystery and joy of a God who takes it all and gives back oh so much more!

Maybe this is why we fill our lives with the constant drivel of entertainment in this culture — and in the church. We are afraid that if we stop and really look at God in his Word, we might discover that he evokes greater awe and demands deeper worship than we are ready to give him.

David sums up his book with a radical one year experiment. He introduces it by saying this:

Real success is found in radical sacrifice. Ultimate satisfaction is found not in making much of ourselves but in making much of God. The purpose of our lives transcends the country and culture in which we live. Meaning is found in community, not individualism; joy is found in generosity, not materialism; and truth is found in Christ, not universalism. Ultimately, Jesus is a reward worth risking everything to know, experience, and enjoy.

I know it is kind of skipping ahead, but do you want to hear the one year challenge?

1. Pray for the entire world. Get an aid such as OperationWorld and literally begin praying for everywhere around the world in this one year. You’ll be amazed, he says, at the way prayer opens our hearts and minds. Jesus asked his disciples to pray not for the poor and the sick, but for the people who would go to them. He wants us to pray for people to go to the countries you will learn about. Great family project.
2. Read through the entire Bible in one year. “We have settled for far too long for “Bible lite,” both as individual Christians and in the community of faith. We have adopted a Christianity consumed with little devotional thoughts form God for the day…” Imagine the power of praying around the world and reading the Word for an entire year! Do you think you would be transformed at the end of that year?
3. Sacrifice your money for a specific purpose. Pick a concrete project and devote every dollar you can to it for one year. Set a cap on your lifestyle for this one year and get involved with changing your world personally through your giving.
4. Spend your time in another context. This is the one we’re all afraid of, isn’t it. Go. We have to change our context and go. He suggests that if we could just give 2% of our time (roughly one week) to changing our context and bringing the Gospel to the world, it would revolutionize the other 98% of our time.
5. Commit your life to multiplying community. Find a place within your body of believers to make disciples and support each other. “If the radical, simple living we see Jesus talking about were more common in the church, it would be much easier for us to live simply as well…give liberally, go urgently and live dangerously together.”

That’s it and that’s enough. It’s more than enough! I have to be honest with you, I don’t know if I can live up to that one year commitment. But I’m pretty sure I’d like to try. In the best of all scenarios, David and I would find a group of others committed to making that hard climb. Seems easier to do together, doesn’t it?

Radical, by David Platt. Download it on your Kindle App and off you go. Let me know what you think!

Resources for Radical can be found here.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZfC7vAbte4