I understand why we have to add a day to the calendar every four years.  According to timeanddate.com, “Leap Years are needed to keep our calendar in alignment with the Earth’s revolutions around the sun. It takes the Earth approximately 365.242199 days to circle once around the sun. If we did not add the 29th nearly every four years, we would lose almost six hours every year. After 100 years our calendars would be off by 24 days.” 

I’m not sure who figured all this out.  But I have a few questions for them.

1.  Why February?  February is my least favorite month.  Why couldn’t we have an extra day in June or September?

2.  Why is it called “Leap Day”?  That seems to imply jumping or skipping over something.  Shouldn’t this day be named “Stall Day” or “Tack-On Day”?

3.  Instead of adding one day every four years, why don’t we take the six hours once a year and demand that everyone read a book or take a nap?  Or we could wait and have an extra 24 days every 100 years.  Wouldn’t that be more fun?  I envision a world-wide reprieve from war and dieting and reality TV for three and a half weeks.

4.  Who calculates a number to the nearest one-millionth and calls it “approximate”?

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.       Psalm 90:12

One thing I’ve noticed the last few weeks: PB has become a much better preacher since I have started taking notes in church.  Or maybe taking notes during the sermon has made me a much better listener so I’m more aware of PB’s good messages.  It’s funny what happens when you enter worship actually expecting to hear a word from God.

For so many years, my attention was centered on keeping four children quiet in the pew.  I doled out Cheerios, played hangman, and drew pictures on the bulletin.  Later, my focus was on sending raised eyebrows to my whispering teenagers who were sitting with their friends.  These days, I find myself sitting alone in the pew.  Antsy children and chatty teenagers don’t bother me at all anymore.  Probably because they aren’t my antsy children and my chatty teenagers.

Anyway, this week this is what stuck with me.  After our Lord’s death and resurrection, 1 Peter 3:19 says that Jesus preached.  PB said that the word for “preached” means “announced”.  In other words, Jesus was announcing that the victory over death was won and the door to heaven was now open.  Heaven: Open for Business!

So, how is business?  Am I getting the word out about this grand opening?  And what about the church?  Is the church open for business?  Or open for busy-ness?  Or does it prefer business-as-usual?

And what about my heart?  Is it open for business?  Is God telling me He needs to get into my business about some things?  Do I dare to tell Him it’s none of His business?   How can I go about my business like nothing has happened when telling people about Jesus is serious business?

There’s no business like show business…..ah….nope, that one doesn’t work.  I’ll stop now.

One of my goals for 2012 is to jot down a thought or two during worship each Sunday morning and carry it around with me during the week.  PB is faithful to preach God ‘s word every Sunday; I should be faithful to let it find some fertile ground in which to germinate.

This week the message was on 1 Peter 3:15.  “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.”

Which made me ponder: Who’s asking?  When was the last time someone questioned me about the hope I have?  Which made me wonder:  Is my hope all that evident?  Does anyone even  know I have hope?  Or do I just blend in with the dreary, hopeless world?

Instead of people saying, “Why are you so happy?” more often I’m asked, “What’s wrong?  Something bothering you?”

Instead of people asking me, “How are you getting through this so well?” I’m more likely to be told, “I’m sorry you have been struggling so much with this.”

Instead of comments like, “Your faith is so obvious, it inspires me,” I’m more apt to hear, “Read this book, it might inspire you.”

I might be prepared to give an answer, but if no one is asking…..then maybe I should ask myself a few questions.

When George and Ira Gershwin wrote the the song “Embraceable You” in 1928, they probably had no idea they were touching on a deep theological truth.  “Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you…”  Stay with me here;  this is going somewhere.

PB preached the first sermon of 2012 last Sunday and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.  (That’s the sign of a good sermon, you know: parishioners, or at least the pastor’s wife, wanting to discuss Sunday’s sermon on the following Wednesday.)  The message “To Hug and To Hold” was about Mary and Joseph bringing their 8-day-old son to the temple for dedication.  They were met by an old man named Simeon, probably the priest who was going to bless the child.  But Simeon didn’t just place his hand on the baby’s head and pronounce the usual blessing.  Not this time.  The wrinkled hands reached out and Simeon took the babe in his feeble arms.  The old priest knew this was what he had been waiting for his whole life.  He embraced the Son of God.

Imagine.  Hugging.  God.

I’m not opposed to hugging, although I know some people are uncomfortable with it.  There are some huggers who go for the side-by-side-pat-each-other-on-the-back method.  It’s kind of a half-hug.  There are the A-frame huggers, who don’t mind a quick cheek-to-cheek clasp, so long as the rest of the body stays a good distance away.  Then there are the Aunt Irene hugs.  When I met PB’s Aunt Irene, I was warned about her death-defying squeezes.  It was true: she had a vice grip that took the breath right out of me.

Until Jesus came, God just didn’t seem very huggable.  There was a lot of thunder and fire and mystery associated with Jehovah.  He might have been perceived as a little unapproachable.  But Jesus came and changed all that.  God became embraceable.

Thirty-three years later, He stretched out His arms wide and embraced us.

All the things I once thought were so important…. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him.  Philippians 3:7     The Message

We said “so long for now” to Mary and Martha, (see September 30, 2011 post) but the sisters did have a brother whom we shouldn’t neglect.  His name was Lazarus, and although there is not one recorded word spoken by him in scripture, he had a pretty amazing life.  And death.  And life.  And death. 

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Lazarus.  Here was a man who had to die not once, but twice, thanks to a miraculous resurrection the first time around.  But I wonder, how thrilled was he to return to this old world?  What was it like for him to hear a voice come booming through the heavens, calling his name?  “Lazarus, come forth!”  After tasting heavenly splendor, how did Bethany look to Lazarus?  Once the grave-clothes were all unwrapped, did he have the same old aches and pains as before?  Did the smell of death and decay ever leave his nostrils?  What did Lazarus think about as he went to sleep each night?  How much he missed Home?  And what did he and Jesus talk about that day?  Were they like two people talking about a movie that no one else had seen?  Did they slap each other on the back and laugh til they cried?  Or did they just look at each other and shake their heads in awe?

For a man who experienced something truly out of this world, he sure was quiet.  Maybe he just didn’t have adequate words…..

One evening awhile ago, PB and I went out to dinner with another couple.  They are good friends and we enjoy their company.  There is just one problem with them: they always insist on picking up the tab.  This brings out the competitive nature in PB, who does not like to be out-done.  In the midst of the evening’s conversation, a coming theater performance was mentioned.  We all agreed that it sounded like an interesting event and that it might be fun to go.  PB nudged me;  I patted PB’s knee.  We were thinking the same thing: here was our chance to finally do something for this generous couple.

The next morning, I stopped in at the theater and bought four tickets to the show.  We made the call and invited our friends to join us.  Hooray!  We were thrilled to be givers at last!

As we were waiting for the curtain to rise on the night of the show, I complimented my friend on her pretty blouse.  I sincerely appreciated how nice she looked and instead of just thinking it, I told her.  It was just a passing comment.

Later that week, a package was delivered to my door.  I didn’t remember ordering anything, so I was curious about the elegantly wrapped box.  I pulled back the tissue and inside was a nicely folded blouse, just like the one my friend had worn; just my size.  I was stunned!  What a surprise!  How very thoughtful!  A note was tucked in the box thanking us for the night out together. 

I immediately called and left a message on her phone, attempting to express my gratefulness and joy over the unexpected gift!  The next day, my friend emailed me, thanking me for being so excited about the blouse.  A week later, I sent her a hand written thank you note, letting her know that every time I open my closet and see that blouse, I am blessed all over again. 

I can’t stop this thing!  I can’t seem to out-give my friend!  But I’m sure going to keep trying!  The more she gives, the more I want to give.  It’s a virtuous cycle. 

“For God so loved the world, He gave…” (John 3:16)  God is the one who started this whole giving thing and although I will never be able to out-give Him, His generosity stirs something up in me.  God has picked up the entire tab for my ticket to eternal life.  How do I respond to that?

For the month leading up to Thanksgiving, let’s just see how grateful we can be.  Please chime in with your thankful thoughts.  Jump into the virtuous cycle and create a whirlwind of gratitude with me.