Advent is a Blue Season

Our family has been making a more focused effort this Advent to prepare our minds and hearts for Christmas. We wanted to share one of the devotions that impacted us this past week.

John 1:6-8, 19-28

A blue of new beginnings,
     a hue of hope.
A blue serious and steadfast,
     not as airy as the sky
     or as black as navy
     more a royal blue
     evoking "solemn anticipation and...spiritual preparation."
A slightly impatient blue that prays
     "Come, Lord Jesus" as it
     remembers his coming in the flesh,
     anticipates his coming again,
     and celebrates his daily coming
     through holy means and unholy people.
But instead
     Advent often becomes a season
     in which we sing the blues.
Busy, busy, busy we cry.
As if to justify.
Gifts to buy.
Cookies to bake.
Houses and trees to decorate.
No joy to anticipate,
     no holy preparation,
     remembrance or celebration.
And even though we know better,
     sometimes we buy this burdensome blue
     so fully
     that it almost becomes us.
Which raise for me,
     my blue friends,
     a question of identity.
Which Advent blue is true
     of you and me?
"Who are you?"
     "I am not the Christ."
"Elijah then."
     "I am not."
"The prophet after all!"
     "No!"
But then, who is there left to be
     my out-of-sync friend?
John, who are you then?
Someone, a preacher, once said
     "It's hard for pastors
     to be Christians
     in Advent."
Hard too
     for Christians
     to be Christians
     with Advent blues.
So then, who are we?
"Who?" The Pharasiees persist.
Says John:
     "I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
     'Make straight the way of the Lord!"
John does not conform
     to the pressure and temptation
     of Pharisee voices.
John the Baptist
     locust fed and camel-coated
     out of style but one of substance
     his ancient voice with present call
     denies
     what the world would have him be,
     claims only that he is a herald,
     a voice crying out in an untamed place.
John knows who he is.
     He is a voice crying counhter to whinings in the wilderness.
     He is a herald trumpeting straight a tree-strewn and winding way.
     He is a long, thin, frail finger pointing to one who matters most
          in a forest of little matters.
Who are you?
John knows who he is.
His Advent is the royal blue of preparation,
     reflecting a concrete and certain hope
     that the one to come is mightier than all the busy, busy, busy
     that sometimes paints our Advent
     such a blackened blue.
So then, who are we?
Are we voices crying preparation
     or tongues wagging in trepidation?
Are we out of substance, caught in style
     conforming, caving in
     to the pressure and temptation
     of many Pharasee voices,
or heralds calling to clear a path?
Are we singing the ain't Christian enough to count
     Advent carwash blues,
     or Prepare ye the way of the Lord?
Just asking.
Advent blue doesn't sing the blues
     but heralds a hope born yesterday, for today
     and good tomorrow,
a hope that is our hope
     and the source of our salvation
Come, Lord Jesus.

Modified from the Luteran Theological Seminary at Philadephia Advent Devotional Guide for 2002.

While we were sleeping and America was lunching (An Earthquake)

(click on the photo to see a bigger picture of the map)

We know that this probably won't make the evening news as there was no major damage or loss of life. (But it did send thousands of local university students scrambling. Click here to read that story). So, we thought we would tell you what woke us up spot on at midnight--an earthquake measuring 4.7 (or 5.1 by some accounts) on the Richter scale. Three minutes later another hit. We had three subsequent tremors before 1:00am and then we were woken up at least 3 more times to minor tremors before my phone alarm (at 5:25am) reminded me that it was time for the start of a new day. We learned that not a one of our kids heard or felt a thing.

The whole house shook. Neither Scott nor I have ever experienced something like this before. Even though it is "winter" here, we have the screen door open in our bedroom to the outside. The sound of the quake coming and going was amazing to me. The rumble grew and grew, like a crescendo in a piece of music, and then subsided. We learned after checking the Internet that the epicentre was only about 9 miles away from our home in an area called Mae Rim (where our kids just played soccer two weeks ago).

This experience is an awesome reminder of God's incredible power and how powerless we really are when it comes to matters of this world. (Matthew 24:4-8)

If you have Google Earth installed, you can click HERE and it will fly you to the location. If not, you will need to install Google Earth first (available at http://earth.google.com).

Loy Katong (K is pronounced like a G) – One month late!

The first full moon of November is a time of great celebration in Thailand, particularly up North where we live. It has been said that many people nowadays are just going through the motions of the festival yet hold it as a very special time, however they don’t necessarily know why they do what they do. None-the-less, it is a very large and beautiful festival. The city and many moo baans (neighborhoods) are decorated with lights. The bridges are particularly attended to as much of the celebration takes place on and around the river. Katongs are made by hand from flowers, banana leaves, slices of trunks from banana trees, and are held together by toothpicks. Incense and candles are placed on them. A person or family places their bad deed and bad luck on the katong and it is prayerfully placed on the river—for the river to wash away all that badness. Giant lanterns filled with hot air are also released for the same reason. This event can take place very ceremoniously or accompanied with wild behavior and much drinking and illegal fireworks readily available at many street vendors.

This was our first Loy Katong Festival to witness since coming to Chiang Mai. Some of the festivities we participated in, but mostly we were nonchalant observers. The festival used to be celebrated only for one day…now it lasts for at least a week thanks to the interest of the almighty tourist. We steered clear of the river on the two biggest nights. The potential for accidents due to fireworks shot through crowds of people wall to wall and traffic jams really didn’t interest our family. However, the beauty and serenity of the lanterns lifting high into the night sky until they disappeared like helium balloons released for a special occasion was truly a sight not to miss.