THE Must-Have Gift List

So, what’s on your holiday wish list?

Me… I’ve been eyeing a pair of black suede boots and an antique birdbath.

(What can I say… I’m a Vanity Fair-meets-Southern Living kinda gal these days.)

As much as I’d love for Santa Baby (ok, Steve) to slip these gifts under the tree – for me – I realize at some point the boots’ll wear out and my feathered friends will crap all over that beautiful birdbath.

And you know what? When I close my eyes at the end of a rough day (or the middle of a crisis), it’s not boots or birdbaths that I want.

What I must have is…

Hope.

Comfort.

Clarity.

Safety… security… serenity.

Peace.

And some tender loving care. (The kind that won’t quit.)

Aren’t those the gifts we all want? All 8 billion of us?

What if I told you they could be yours? Guaranteed delivery. What if I told you there’s a prince waiting to bestow everything your soul longs for.

A Prince… of Peace.

A Protector. Comforter. Counselor. Listener. Lover.

He’s ready/waiting/willing/able to give you what you ache to have.

Himself.

It’s Jesus we’re desperate for.

He is the gift.

But there’s a catch. Neither you nor I can receive him… until we open our hearts wide and bare our souls. And tragically, most of us won’t ever do that.

Unless… until… we realize how desperate we really are.

Most of us are pretty obtuse. We don’t even realize we need Jesus in the first place. But even those of us who do, we rarely want to admit that our self-sufficiency is… well… insufficient.

(It’s called foolish pride for a reason.)

Not to mention the fact that without him, we remain unforgiven… beholden to our failures and faults, riddled with guilt and shame.

I’ve got my share, that’s for sure:

I’m selfish.

Stubborn.

Lazy at times.

I jockey for position and play favorites.

I indulge my pride with self-pity… or a runaway sense of entitlement.

(Just scratching the surface here.)

If I dig deeper, I uncover…

I’m weak-willed, short-sighted, much-afraid.

I interrupt and interfere. I try to control things – and people! – far beyond my reach and resources (a limited perspective and lack of power, for starters).

But the beautiful thing (beneath all that muck and mire) is that I know it.

I know myself.

And self-awareness is a precious commodity. Because it can lead straight to contrition.

(That’s the part where I own it.)

And contrition can lead straight to confession.

(That’s when I admit it.)

If I choose not to duck/dodge/deflect blame for my own s&*t.

God knows it all anyway. So I may as well unburden myself.

Plead guilty, if you will.

(And breathe a huge sigh of relief.)

Exhale guilt and shame; inhale mercy and grace.

Come clean… and come near.

That’s the invitation of Christmas.

To gaze up at the heavens and turn your heart toward the One who created them… and you.

He knows all about you – the good, the bad, the ugly. And here’s the really crazy thing:

He adores you.

No, really.

And nothing you’ve ever done – or will do – changes that.

How can it be? That our God, our Gift, can see us so clearly… and love us with such unflinching devotion?

It’s inexplicable.

A Christmas miracle.

And now – this year, this day, here and now – it’s our turn. To come clean and come near.

Open your heart wide, bare your soul, believe.

By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of… Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise. ~ Romans 5:1-2 (The Message)

Oh, come let us adore him.

Wendy

F R I E N D S

Once upon a time, I went to college with one of the Friends.

David Schwimmer graduated from Northwestern a year after me, but I never got to know him while we were there. I sure did enjoy his work on the show though.

Friends was like comfort food: warm, familiar, savory/sweet/spicy and… well… comforting. (With a heaping side of good humor.)

It’s odd when you find yourself thinking a lot about someone who’s a perfect stranger. But the past few days, my thoughts have turned to David (and the rest of the Friends cast) often. I felt a sharp pang of sadness when I heard about Matthew Perry’s death. Of course I didn’t know him either. But somehow, I’m convinced that if I did, we’d be…

Friends.

(In real life.)

His portrayal of Chandler Bing was understated brilliance. He crafted a character that was at once gruff and gentle, snarky and kindly, wickedly funny and fiercely loyal. I know this is debatable but I always thought Chandler was the glue of that gang.

I haven’t read his memoir yet, but I’ve heard a few excerpts that illuminate some dark corners of Matthew Perry’s life. In Friends, Lovers and the Big, Terrible Thing, he wrote a painfully honest account of his struggle to get clean… and his desperate cry for help:

‘God, please help me,’ I whispered. ‘Show me that you are here. God, please help me.’

As I kneeled, the light slowly began to get bigger, and bigger, until it was so big that it encompassed the entire room…What was happening? And why was I starting to feel better?

He continued:

I started to cry. I mean, I really started to cry – that shoulder-shaking kind of uncontrollable weeping. I wasn’t crying because I was sad. I was crying because for the first time in my life, I felt OK. I felt safe, taken care of. Decades of struggling with God, and wrestling with life, and sadness, all was being washed away, like a river of pain gone into oblivion.

I had been in the presence of God. I was certain of it. And this time I had prayed for the right thing: help.

Eventually the weeping subsided. But everything was different now… I stayed sober for two years based solely on that moment. God had shown me a sliver of what life could be. He’d saved me that day. And for all days. No matter what. He had turned me into a seeker. Not only of sobriety, and truth, but also of Him.

I don’t know what transpired between that moment of salvation and this past weekend. But from the time I heard about his battle with addiction, I was pulling for him.

And while I have no idea how or why Matthew Perry died Saturday (and no desire to speculate), I do know this. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Matthew didn’t die alone.

Because God was with him.

And now, I daresay, he is with God.

They’re together.

For all days.

The best of friends.

… Now you are my friends, proved by the fact that I have told you everything the Father told me. ~ John 15:15 (TLB)

Those are the words of Jesus, spoken to a rag-tag bunch of guys he’d invited to become his friends.

I’ve told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. ~ John 15:11-13 (MSG)

That’s what Jesus did. He put his life on the line for us. And he did it so we could be forgiven and free… so we could be friends forever.

That beautiful invitation of friendship with God? He extends it to you and me too. So what do you say?

Want to be friends with God?

Just ask.

John Eldredge writes:

The Christian faith is at its center an invitation to intimacy with God. He is an actual person, with a personality and a heart… and just as in any other relationship, it is the connection of these two hearts that matters above all else. This is where you separate from religion, and this is what will rescue you from slipping back into it. Friendship with God is the heartbeat of it all; nothing else can substitute (though many things will try)...

Becoming friends with God is what you were made for. It’s the moment of salvation and the meaning of life. It’s the only sure thing in this world.

The truth is, at one time or another, all our other friends will leave us or fail us somehow.

Jesus never will.

He’s the best of friends… for all days. No matter what.

He’ll be there for you.

Wendy

P.S. If you or someone you love is struggling with addiction, find online resources and support at Celebrate Recovery.