For as long as my kids have been alive, they’ve known and loved Uncle Todd, Uncle Lloyd, and Sims, members of the Echelon band. Yes, I’ve played music with these three for thirty years, but that isn’t why my kids treat them like family. Instead, the steady flow of humor, care, attentiveness, and love from these bandmates to my children have forged a lasting relationship and been a reminder of their enduring connection. They are central people in the lives of my kids – us, too – who love and encourage us in powerful ways.

I’m grateful to see these meaningful connections in your life, too. lt has been a delight to hear stories about holiday adventures and see images on social media of your many families, some of whom are blood relatives, along with others who are members of your extended chosen family of friends. I can only imagine the laughter and love shared through your time of togetherness.

It could be easy for us to center our Christmas and Epiphany celebrations only around Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus, but the Bible stories we hear and share this time of year won’t permit us to do so. Instead, we are nudged to embrace a broader circle of relationships as we hear about angels from the realms of glory filling the night sky with their radiance and songs, sleepy shepherds scrounging their belongings together in the middle of the night to head across town to see this new little precious One, and sky watchers coming from a faraway land when they recognize a shift in the heavens. All sorts of characters from beyond the family bloodline and Bethlehem region become players in God’s story of grace.

In this ever-unfolding story, we also hear about aunts and uncles, cousins and church leaders, community types and strangers in the land, as well as others who seek and welcome Jesus. As he grew, friends and even enemies became like family. During the final moments of his earthly life, Jesus even presided over an adoption ceremony between his mother and one of his disciples (John 19:25b-27).

I’m grateful that the rhythm of prayer in our weekly worship continually connects us to specific people and places beyond our congregation, as we lift up our joys and concerns. I’m grateful that the words of the Apostles’ Creed remind us that we believe in and are part of something bigger than ourselves, the “holy catholic [universal] Church.” I’m grateful that we leave our space fueled for God’s mission to live, share, and celebrate with all people.

One of the most poignant images of this past Advent and Christmas was Kelly Latimore’s “Christ in the Rubble.” "This new icon,” Latimore explains, “illustrates the prophetic message that if Jesus was born today, he would be born ‘under the rubble.’

“Our hope is that this icon, ‘Christ in the Rubble’ will create more dialogue among Christians in the United States during this holy season about the ways our beliefs and actions - or lack thereof - contribute to the violence we're currently witnessing in Gaza. How can we shape a culture of Christianity where love truly has no boundaries? How do we create a world where our poor, homeless, refugee, Palestinian Savior - born to a teenage mother and later condemned to death - would be cherished had he been born today?” (www.kellylatimoreicons.com)

I haven’t been able to shake this image from my mind. We cannot look away from the terror, dread, and trauma. We also cannot look away from the Hope that God brings to the world again and again with the promise of redemption and grace for all.

Let there be Peace on Earth and let it begin with me,

Pastor Lowell

We are so grateful for the many ways you have served and participated in life and ministry at Lord of Life throughout the past year. We thank God for each of you and the numerous ways that you generously share your lives for God’s mission here, in our community, and throughout the world. Thank you also for your Christmas gifts.

As we jump into a new year of growing in faith, we pray that the Spirit of God will continue to bring us health, joy, and peace as we remain rooted in the promises of Jesus.

God's peace,

The Lord of Life Staff

This Advent season at Lord of Life we have acknowledged our weariness, found joy in connection, and allowed ourselves to be amazed. This next week would be the time to sing stories of hope as we prepare to make room for Christ on Christmas Eve. The calendar this year is a bit wonky and like other churches, we will be celebrating Christmas Eve this Sunday while the Fourth Sunday of Advent takes a backseat. I’m not sure if the Fourth Sunday of Advent is my favorite, but it’s at least in the top four. How fitting for me that the calendar has us cutting the preparation short and jumping straight into action.

And yet this is one year where I wish we could savor Advent a bit longer – to hold onto the momentum of the preparation. I’m not sure why, but I just am not quite ready yet for Christmas. I don’t mean the to-do’s of the holiday which of course linger… It seems I am still working to be prepared emotionally and spiritually for Christmas morning and the arrival of Christ. I don’t want this to be another year where I am lost in the shuffle and forget to experience the amazing joy of the holiday – the promise that Christ is here with us for us. I really need this week to remember to hope in Christ’s coming, to hear the stories of hope, and to sing the songs of my childhood.

It will take some intentionality, but I am going to take some time each morning with our Advent booklet, savoring the poems and songs, and artwork in there as well as the Bible stories while I prepare myself a bit more before we jump into the action of Christmas. As I acknowledge the weariness I am feeling, the Spirit of God helps me make room for the joy of Christ. There is joy in knowing that Jesus is working in us and through us. There is joy in knowing that the world won’t be like this forever. There won’t always be war and hate and violence and need that bear down on us.

In Luke 1, we learn of Mary and her pregnancy. She was scared and went to visit her cousin Elizabeth who was also pregnant. Their greeting is so spectacular: Elizabeth’s baby jumps for joy and Elizabeth exuberantly blesses Mary. Mary responds with such a beautiful song praising God in hope for what can be. In Eugene Peterson’s translation The Message, Mary begins, “I am bursting with God-news; I’m dancing the song of my Savior God.” Mary sees what is possible and has hope. This is the hope that sustains us throughout the weariness. This is the hope that keeps us whether we are in the valley or up on the mountain.

May we all have the hope of Mary and be filled to bursting. May we dance the song of our Savior God. Rest easy, dear ones, knowing that we are held in the bosom of a loving God whose “mercy flows in wave after wave on those who are in awe before him.”

Merry Christmas!

Pastor Laura Applegate, Seminary Intern

My maiden name is Schmeling (pronounced sch-mailing). Good German roots from both sides, I have been told. My Dad even ordered a coat of arms to hang in our living room (and those were the days when you couldn’t just order online, deep research had to be done). We had beer steins and felt like Octoberfest was our celebration. Family members visited Germany as the land of our ancestors.

Imagine our surprise when my brother sent his DNA away, just for fun, and it came back that we were predominantly Irish. What?! DNA doesn’t lie. Put away the lederhosen and get out the kilts! The Irish have the reputation of being more fun than the stoic Germans. What new life could this bring to our family? We laughed and joked continuously about this new revelation but there was also a deep sadness about the heritage we lost. Weren’t we German to the core? There were foundational stories that we were told about our great-grandparents. Did they originally come from Ireland and move to Germany? There were so many questions.

Have you experienced something that has shaken who you are to the core? How did you get through it?

Unlike most life-changing news and events, we didn’t have to ruminate on this new revelation for long. My brother received an apology letter about a month later about the DNA mix-up. We were indeed German to the core. For a time, our history had changed but the more relevant lesson for us was that the community that we grew up in and the experiences we had shaped our lives, not necessarily our DNA. More importantly, our faith in our ever-present and loving God, passed on through generations, had led our family through a myriad of life experiences regardless of the outcomes we expected or hoped for.

My quiet, deeply faithful Grandpa Schmeling passed away at 92. He held his faith so firmly and as a true comfort through the many challenges of his life including immigrant parents, war, the Great Depression, the loss of a son at two years old, and the death of his beloved wife 30 years earlier. As we reflect on hope in our weary world during this Advent season, there has been weariness in every generation, yet the hope that comes through Jesus is our constant sanctuary. It has guided us through the twists and turns in our families’ lives and will always be our beacon of light.

The story of the birth of Jesus and the life that enabled him to be the force that changes the world is the greatest story that influences our lives and generations before us. It is that hope and love that can permeate through our history, even our DNA. For the Lord is good, his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations. Psalm 100:5

Holding you close in thought and prayer as we honor our history and live into the hope that Jesus brings today and always.

In Christ’s love,

Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

I hate to be a downer. I’ll do just about anything to avoid talking about my own feelings and bringing the overall mood of a room down. Highs and lows? Highs only, from me … I don’t want to weigh you down with what is going on in here. There are a few venues when I let it out - a blog every now and then, or a reflection about childhood trauma during a specific event that calls for it. I’m not sure people are actually surprised I have feelings deeper than the happy exterior I put on, especially when I regularly wear a shirt that says, “It’s Fine. I’m Fine. Everything’s Fine.” 

The thing is, even though the first 30 years of my life were pretty rough, the last several years have actually been really great. I’m married, I love my job, we have two houses (one of them full of pets) so I have space to fulfill whatever crazy projects come to mind at any moment, and I’m surrounded by people who encourage my creativity (for better or worse.) 

When things were bad all the time, I was very well practiced at dealing with it. What no one warned me about as things got better, was that I needed to learn healthy coping mechanisms to handle the much more rare dark moments. It is one thing when you are gritting your teeth all the time and have built walls to protect you from the world. But when you are used to relaxing into the comfort of security and light, the same defenses aren’t there to guard you. Luckily, I work with great people who let me take time if something is going on and I don’t have to worry about pretending to be having a good day when I’m not.

It isn’t a coincidence that our Advent season is concurrent with the time of year when we get fewer and fewer hours of light each day. We spend the whole year with the sun warming us, helping our body produce Vitamin D, helping us grow crops, and providing light for us to see, and then we are plunged into darkness earlier and earlier each day. We are cold, our plants don’t grow, and even with all our modern technology, it is more difficult to get things done outside after the sun has set.

In the Bible, Adam and Eve have a great life and are used to God’s light on them all the time. When they are cast out of the garden, they experience darkness for the first time and are sure that God has abandoned them in the darkness. In a New Testament world, we know that through grace and love, we never have to worry about God leaving us, whether the sun is shining or not. We light our candles during Advent, as we approach the darkest nights of the year, to remind us of God’s light and presence. We gather together for worship and fellowship to remind us that we don’t have to bear the darkness alone.

As we approach Christmas, we rejoice in the fact that Jesus was born to bring light after the world had been dark for a long, long time. We rejoice that we are part of a community that will walk with us through our difficult times, even when we can’t see God’s presence for ourselves. And we rejoice we don’t have to pretend we’re ok when we’re really suffering.

Our Advent resources this year ask us to explore how a weary world rejoices. Reflection topics are posted on social media and printed resources are available at church. What is making you weary this season? How are you able to rejoice?

Yours in the darkness,

John

Four years ago today, my brother Ben and my mom and I attended Amy Grant’s Christmas concert at US Bank Arena downtown. Growing up, we listened to Amy Grant a lot, especially at Christmas. My mom’s favorite Christmas albums, or the ones she played the most, were both by Amy Grant. I loved Grant’s versions of the traditional “Sleigh Ride” and “The Christmas Song.” Her “Emmanuel” still pumps me up. The three of us were so excited to hear Grant perform live with Michael W. Smith that night.

The crowd that night was tightly packed in. It was the first stop on the tour and Grant was so jittery, she even forgot the words to her opening number, a song she had written. She handled the bump confidently and we all laughed it off. The crowd was so in sync and even sang along to some of the numbers. But one song really held my attention in a way it hadn’t before.

Grant started singing “Breath of Heaven (Mary’s Song)” tenderly, holding space for the fear and trepidation Mary would have felt on the journey to Bethlehem and in this new life. Then she came to the chorus and the longing and need in her voice escalated. “Breath of Heaven, hold me together.” My mind echoed this sentiment, the desire to be sustained through the various worries of life. “Be forever near me, Breath of Heaven.” Yes, I thought, stay with me always. “Breath of Heaven, lighten my darkness.” I am scared of these worries and this pain. Lighten this load from my shoulders and uncover my eyes. “Pour over me your holiness, for you are holy, Breath of Heaven.”

My prayer to the Holy Spirit was new and foreign. In this song, I connected with the Holy Spirit in a way I never had before. The Holy Spirit was the member of the Holy Trinity I least understood. And yet, here is this person, this divine and most holy person, cradling me as Mary cradled Jesus, holding me together through life’s hardships.

December came and went and I kept praying for the Breath of Heaven to keep me together. Then January and February faded and finally March 2020 hit. We scrambled to adjust to the shutdown, made arrangements with our jobs and the schools, and enlisted grandparents for kid coverage. Breath of Heaven, hold me together. It was such an abrupt change - working from home while monitoring two hyper littles. We had so much all at once that eventually the prayers and Reese eggs weren’t enough and I broke.

Although it felt like everything fell apart, even though I lay emotionally and physically exhausted, I still had hope. The Holy Spirit urged me to move forward, seek help for my brokenness, and let the light dissipate the gloom. I was given the strength I needed to implement healthy practices like mindfulness, meditation, and maybe some medication, too. I made it through by the power of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Breath of Heaven.

In some ways, it feels as though we are getting past the pandemic and stepping into the “new normal.” Christmas events and activities are happening, and the community is coming together in ways they haven’t in the last three years. There are twinkling lights and calendars with chocolates or trinkets. There are gifts and cookies to be enjoyed. And yet there is a weariness in the world. Inside, we are shadowed by our pandemic scars. In our world, just as in the world of Mary, we have tyrants and wars and poverty and uncertainty in the future. We pray to the Holy Spirit, “Breath of Heaven, hold us together.”

I am so grateful for the community here at Lord of Life that welcomes the work of the Spirit. The Breath of Heaven pours over us holiness as love and comradery. This love illuminates our world and eradicates the shadows. So, come this season and be cradled by the Holy Spirit at our Advent midweek meals or the Christmas pageant or our “Service for the Weary.” Find a place to rest from your weariness and to gather strength to rejoice. Because Christmas is coming and in fact, Emmanuel is already here.

May the Holy Spirit restore you,

Pastor Laura