This Time

“This time I will praise the Lord.”    Genesis 29:35

Unloved and unlovely, Leah quickly found herself the third wheel of a bicycle built for two.  As her husband, Jacob granted her his body but never gave his heart.  She wanted him to be with her out of desire not duty, but the prospects of such seemed slim.  

And then she got pregnant.  And had a baby boy.  A firstborn son was a sign of Jacob’s potency and a source for Jacob’s pride.  “Surely my husband will love me now,” Leah declared.  But he didn’t.

And then she got pregnant again.  And had a baby boy.  A second son showed that the first was not a fluke.  Jacob was a real man, and this child was real proof.  Surely he would love her now.  But he didn’t.

And then she got pregnant again.  And had a baby boy.  At this point Leah had given up on love but still longed to be liked.  To be connected in some way—any way.  “Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.”  But he didn’t.

And then she got pregnant again.  And had a baby boy.  But this time—“This time,” she said, “I will praise the Lord.”  She realized that even when Jacob wasn’t looking at her, God was.  When Jacob wasn’t listening to her, God was.  When Jacob wasn’t loving her, God was.  God was the one who filled her empty arms and helped her lonely heart, so she shifted her focus from the one who wasn’t around to the One who was always there.

Stop striving to find your self-worth and security in the accolades and affections of others.

They will let you down, but God will hold you up. 

This time, praise the Lord.

Romantic Non-Fiction

 

“…but they seemed like only a few days to him…”   Genesis 29:20

Harlequin should have been in Haran as Jacob found a home and lost his heart.  Her name was Rachel.  She was his first love and his first cousin. (Being close kin was no concern back then.)  She was striking, and he was smitten.  Big time.

The whole thing started at a well.  (Must have been a wishing one.)  Jacob arrived in the area as Rachel showed up with the sheep.  He watered the flock, kissed the girl, cried out loud, and revealed that he was related.  She rushed away with the info, and Jacob was welcomed into the family.

After just four weeks, Uncle Laban offered wages for his work, but Jacob was more interested in marriage than money.  “Jacob was in love with Rachel and said, ‘I’ll work for you for seven years in return for your younger daughter’”(Gen 29:18).  “Better you than some other boy,” her dad declared. “It’s a deal.”

Thus ensues the most romantic statement in all of Scripture—“So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days because of his love for her”(Gen 29:20).  Yes, the tale takes a twist and tying the knot turns into a tangle, but that’s tomorrow.  Today, pause and celebrate the passion of a captivated heart.

Seven years make up more than 2500 days.  That’s not a few.  But “they seemed like only a few,” for the prize was worth the price.  Jacob’s love made the long seem short.  The hard, easy.  The demanding, delightful.  Being with Rachel would be his treasure.

Girls think, “He must have been so sweet.”  Guys think, “She must have been so hot.”  Both, for love brings out the best in us and the beauty in others.  It’s a win-win when we put each other first and focus on what’s right.  

True love willing to sacrifice and wanting to serve is better than anything you can buy in a book.  Don’t look on a shelf.  Look at your spouse.

Rachel was worth the work.

So is yours.

Getting Ready

It’s less than two weeks until Christmas, but a quick glance around my house reveals that we’re not ready.  The tree is up but boasts no ornaments.   Boxes of unpacked decorations sit still and silent. The dining table still sports autumn leaves and adventurous pilgrims, and the stack of gifts waiting to be wrapped is woefully small.  

It’s not that I’m a Scrooge; it just that the season has sprung quickly upon us.  Lest you think I jest, know that I wrote October on a student’s hall pass yesterday.  That seems about right—I should have a few more weeks before I start thinking thankful and at least two whole months to make a Merry Christmas.  But such is not so.  The day of celebration is fast approaching, and I’d better get busy.  

“Busy doing what?” is the question I now must answer.  Since there isn’t time to do it all, preparations should be prioritized.  I need to decide what’s foundational and what’s filler.  Tasks flood my mind—trim the tree, hang the lights, bake some cookies, mail some cards, finish shopping, and fill (no, first find!) the stockings.  The list is long and loud, but above all the mental hustle and bustle, I clearly hear the line from last Sunday’s carol—“Let every heart prepare Him room.”

Perhaps it’s time to realize that around Christmas I often get so busy cluttering my house, I don’t unclutter my heart.  Maybe I get so focused on adding to what’s already there—garland to a mantle, lights to an eve, and presents to already piled shelves—that I forget to take some stuff away.  I ruefully admit there’s always plenty to choose from.   Grumpiness should definitely go, with bitterness right behind.   My selfishness needs to be shelved, my impatience ought to disappear, and my pride, distractedness, and lack of trust should definitely be discarded.  And lots more will be still left to put in the box.   By astounding grace, my heart has become Christ’s home, but I need to make sure the King of Heaven is never crowded to a corner.  My own expectations, anxieties, and preferences should be removed, for He must have room to move and reign. Jesus is the undisputed reason for the season, and even if I get nothing else done, He should be delighted in and adored every single day.

The presence of the Savior was what transformed a lowly stable from squalid to stunning, and only His unhindered and holy presence in our lives will do the same.

Let every heart—and every home—prepare Him room.   

Starting with my own.  Right now.

Stairway To Heaven

“He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on earth, with its top reaching to heaven.”

                                                                                                                                                                Genesis 28:12

Although we’re not Jewish, a few in my family must be kin to Jacob.  Blessed with the ability to sleep anywhere at any time, these folks can rest in the rowdiest or roughest of circumstances.  I’m not saying I’m jealous, but the certainty of a good night’s sleep, no matter the conditions, would be rather reassuring.

Noise pollution wasn’t Jacob’s problem in the middle of nowhere, but his accommodations that evening were anything but cozy.  On the run from his brother’s rage, he stopped at sundown to sleep.  He had forgotten to pack a pillow, so “taking one of the stones there, he put it under his head and lay down…”  This should be no surprise when we realize how hard-headed Jacob was, but it couldn’t have been comfortable!   However, no insomnia inflicted Jacob.  He soon dozed off and started dreaming.

He saw a stairway connecting heaven and earth with angels going up and down and God standing at the top.  Jacob might have been in the desert doing his own thing, but God had an Almighty agenda for this deceiver.  In grace, God promised to give him the land on which he was lying and to go with him as he wandered.

Jacob awoke with a sacred scare.  “How awesome is this place!” he exclaimed.  “This is none other than the house of God.”  Anointing oil quickly transformed his stone pillow into a pillar—a place of connection and covenant with God.

Jacob’s ladder wasn’t about his climbing up. It was about God’s coming down.

As you prepare for Christmas, know that Jesus made Jacob’s dream come true.

Visions of sugar plums pale in comparison to the reality of a God who came to be with us.

So sleep well.

Double Trouble

“Isaac…loved Esau, but Rebekah loved Jacob.”    Genesis 25:28

The Battle of the Boys began as babies.  The twins wrestled in the womb and wrangled during birth as Jacob arrived grasping his brother’s heel in an effort to slingshot his way to the front.  But Esau was the firstborn, a position which carried great privilege—Dad’s big blessing for life and double bounty at his death.

As the boys became men, the match continued with the parents picking sides.  Connected by their passion for the outdoors, Papa Isaac preferred the rowdy Esau.  Mom Rebekah was biased to baby Jacob.  Quiet and kind, he hung around the house, helping with the domestic duties. “Isaac…loved Esau, but Rebekah loved Jacob.”  And trouble was brewing.

It showed up first in a soup cauldron.  Esau, starving after a futile hunting trip, swapped his birthright for a bowl of Jacob’s stew.  In a moment of weakness, he gave away his legacy and gobbled the lentils.

The problems reappeared on a platter. Isaac, old and blind, wished to bless his oldest before he was buried.  He rang for Esau and requested a wild game dinner for the occasion.  Rebekah overheard the opportunity and wanted the best for her beloved.  While Esau stalked, Jacob schemed.  Dressed in his brother’s clothes for smell, with his hands and neck covered in goat hair for feel, Jacob served Dad a deceitful dinner and stole the special blessing.  

 

Enraged at the ruse, Esau made plans to murder his brother after he mourned for his father. 

Homebody Jacob had to run for his life and didn’t return for twenty years.

And nobody won the war.

Favoritism and fraud fare no one—especially families—well.  Deceit never wins the day and neither does a double-standard.  Our love can be expressed differently but should always be shared equally.

Be fair and don’t be false.  Your home shouldn’t be a combat zone.