little g's baptism

Our little Georgia peach was baptized on her birthday. There wasn't anything wrong with her. She was perfectly healthy. We weren't afraid we'd lose her, and it wasn't an emergency situation. 

We just didn't want to wait around. 

the recognition of Georgia's Baptism 

As Lutherans, we believe that Baptism isn't just a symbol. It's not an opportunity to debut our baby to our church family or announce her name. 

No, we believe that Baptism "works forgiveness of sins, rescues from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe this as the words and promises of God declare" (Luther's Small Catechism). 

So Georgia was baptized the day she was born. Our pastor came to the hospital. My mother-in-law dressed our baby in my baptismal gown since I couldn't get out of bed. Heck, our little girl was baptized with water sitting in a shallow, blue, plastic bowl one of the nurses brought over. 

It wasn't fancy. But God's Word works. And that makes for one happy set of parents. 

with special thanks to my friend Sarah for the delish cheesecakes. Baptisms are worth celebrating! 

"We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life" (Rom. 6:4). 

What comfort! What joy! And not just for Georgia . . . for her parents too. 

Georgia and her Uncle Benjy AKA the Godfather

And so, a couple of weeks later when I could get around and our family was able to attend, we had a recognition of Georgia's Baptism in church, where our congregation heard from her godfather and from our pastor that she was indeed baptized. The eyewitness account, you might say. 

And the day before, we celebrated that with our family and dessert and sunshine! 

Because life in Christ is worth rejoicing over . . . while eating cheesecake and cookies and Snickers pie, of course. 

We invited our family to give thanks with us -- for cheesecake, of course -- but also for Georgia's assurance that she has been washed in Christ's life-giving water. Both over coffee and dessert one afternoon and in church the next day, we gave thanks for God's many gifts, but chief among them, the one that He gave our little girl by way of water and His Word. 

She's been made His own child, never to be snatched out of our heavenly Father's hand. 

And that's way better than cheesecake. 

God’s own child, I gladly say it: I am baptized into Christ!

He, because I could not pay it, gave my full redemption price.

Do I need earth’s treasures many?  I have one worth more than any

That brought me salvation free, Lasting to eternity! (LSB)

if Christmas is hard for you or those you care about this year . . .

"Let us spare no effort to remind ourselves and teach our children to look upon His coming with both awe and reverence once again. Advent gives way to Christmas and the perfect gift is given. For those among us who grieve and suffer, there is Good News too, and we can seek to comfort them. No matter how one's heart may ache, worry or grieve, the 'hopes and fears of all the years are met' in the perfect God-Child, and the dear Christ enters in. It is Christ, the perfect Gift, who gives us His peace in the face of all travail, sadness and uncertainty, forgiving us all of our sins and providing everything needed to sustain us one day at a time through each of the days of Christmas and beyond. Christmas is an awe-full time indeed. Come, Lord Jesus!" - Dr. Beverly Yahnke

Read more here. 

in defiance of tyranny

This week, you will be tempted.

You will want to give in, give up, give out.

You will endure one of the most intense situations you will ever encounter in this life.

The very fiber of your being will be tried in a Jack Bauer-esque struggle of epic proportions.

This week, you will be tempted to give in to . . . Christmas.

The day after Thanksgiving, your fingers will twitch, your ears will roar, your legs will become unsteady as you move slowly towards the attic, drawn inexplicably to the Christmas decorations stored there, sultry sirens calling your name, begging you to skip right over Advent and dive headlong into Christmas.

This week, though, you get to fight. You get to do battle with the world’s mad dash to Christmas. You get to engage in hand-to-hand combat with consumerism, mommy bloggers’ Christmas projects, and Pinterest boards of Christmasy goodness.

Instead, you get to confess Christ boldly. You get to wait. You even get to work yourself into an Advent frenzy with William Wallace-like bravado. FREEDOMMMMMMMMM!

Fight and you may die. Run and you will live at least awhile. And dying in your bed many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance, to come back here as young men and tell our enemies that they may take our lives but they will never take our (Advent) freedom!

Ok. Well. Still.

This week, you get to reclaim what is yours: the season of Advent, the Advent wreath, the waiting, the anticipation, the measured pace through the next few weeks, the looking forward.

We Lutherans ought to be good at Advent. {Heck, we’re the ones who created the Advent wreath, after all.} We don’t move quickly. We’re often quietistic. We don’t like to make up our minds too quickly.

And so, this year, let’s play to our theological strengths. Let’s wait. Let’s not be rushed. Let’s take our time. Let’s be slow and deliberate. 

Like salmon swimming against the culture’s current, let’s measure our pace, take a deep breath, and focus on waiting for our Lord.

The anticipation of Christmas is a picture of the Church’s faithful waiting for our Lord’s coming again. “This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven,” angels tell the disciples on the Mount of Ascension, “will come in the same way you saw Him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11), namely, openly, for all to see. Ever since, God’s people have been “on the lookout.” We “look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come,” all of which will take place when “He will come again with glory to judge both the living and the dead” (Nicene Creed). {Read the full article by the Rev. Dr. Herbert Mueller here.}

Let’s not tick off the days in exasperation, anxious to get to presents. Let’s go in our own way: Sundays in Advent, candles in purple and rose, days, weeks, time.

Let’s look to Christ, who is never rushed, never impatient. Let’s wait with the whole Church on earth, methodically and with grace. Let’s pray the O Antiphons. Let’s sing Advent hymns. Let’s look forward joyfully.

Advent is not pre-Christmas. It is not a series of mini-celebrations of Christ’s birth. But Advent is a season of hope, a season rooted in waiting for the arrival of Christ’s mercy. . . . Advent is always there to build you up by showing you the love of the Savior for whom you wait. {Read the full article by the Rev. Hans Fiene here.}

This week, eat turkey. Gorge yourself on mashed potatoes. Give thanks for our Lord’s love and mercy shown at your table on Thanksgiving and at His each Sunday. And then sit back in your recliner. Breathe. 

And like Mary, ponder it all in your heart: Christ’s second coming, His forgiveness for you, and Christ Himself, whose timing–slow and measured–is always, always perfect.

happy Reformation day!

My mom excelled at a lot of things. Coming up with Halloween costumes for her third child was not one of them. Maybe that’s why, the year I was officially too old to be trick-or-treating and with a cold that left my head plugged from my nostrils to the back of my skull, she clapped an orange wig on my head, dropped me off on one side of town, and told me to meet her at a friend’s house on the opposite side of the city.

Seriously.

An orange wig for a costume.

Mom.

C’mon.

Never mind that it was sleeting. Never mind that I ate half my candy before I got to her friend’s house. Never mind that the chilly weather actually cleared out all the gunk that was making me stuffy. Never mind that my own grandmother’s porch light was turned off.

My own grandmother.

Not that I’m still thinking about this 20 years later or anything.

It’s just that I’m awfully thankful to be old enough not to have to wear a pig snout for a costume while walking through feet of snow with my sisters begging for candy anymore. Instead, I’m grateful that today I get to stay home and eat all the fun-size Snickers I want . . . before my husband finds the wrapper stash.

I also get to be thankful for Reformation Day, which, despite its appalling lack of Sixlets, is a pretty sweet gig too.

And so I present to you, 5.75 reasons it’s good to be a Lutheran on Reformation Day.

Well, first I’m going to show you these cookies my sister made. Probably you should leave some comment love for her on how fabulous these are.

5) Sturdy hymns.

With all due respect to the musical abilities of Twila Paris, I really feel the Reformation produced some pretty meaty hymns, the kind that actually stick to your bones when you’re frustrated or worried or fed up or scared. It’s time we dug those back out, learned them by heart, sang them at home with our kids. Instead of having “I’m So Fancy” on repeat in your noggin, try out “Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word.”

4) A hardcore Reformer.

You can have Mel Gibson. You can have “Freeeedommmmmm!” speeches. Heck, you can even have the kilts and the war paint. We got Luther, who was brave enough to live and prepared to die by and for the Word of the Lord, who cared more about doing what was right than his name or his reputation and didn’t even have to use #haterzgonnahate to prove it.

3) Trick-or-treating.

We have freedom in the Gospel, which means we can go to our church’s Reformation service AND dress up as a Twister board to get toothbrushes and apples from our neighbors all in one night!

On second thought, maybe just buy your own candy on your way home from church.

2) Endurance.

What was true then is still true now. We’re not hip. We’re not trendy. We’re faithful to God’s Word; we’re consistent. So when Luther wrote, “And take they our life, Goods, fame, child and wife, Let these all be gone, They yet have nothing won; The Kingdom our remaineth,” it was not only the cause for goosebumps then as now, but it was also just as apropos when he wrote it as it is today. It was true for Luther. It is true for the Christians fleeing ISIS. It is true for you.

1) Jesus.

Luther might as well have been a big, flashing, neon Vegas sign that pointed straight to his Savior. Because when we think of the Reformation, we think of Jesus, of the one died and lives to give us every good gift (even though it will usually not come in the form of the orange wig of shame and a sugar high). So with the Psalmist, you get to say, “God is for me!” (Ps. 56:9).

As for that last quarter of a point, well, see # 1.

And oh yeah . . . hapopy Reflosrmatiron Dsayt!

{Sorry. Sticky Snickers chocolate fingers. It’s never too early to start.}

day 17 of farmacology: we go to church

One of the things you may not know about farm folks is that

we go to church.

Heck, half the time our ancestors founded churches!

As in, if you drive to my little corner of Iowa, you'll find a massive maple tree randomly left standing in the middle of a field. It's where the Lutherans who settled in that county first met for church a hundred-plus years ago. 

Farmers since then could have cut that old tree down, but they leave it as a reminder of the men and women who came before them, their fervent faith in God and His mercy, and the reality that they built churches before they built stores or schools because what happened within the walls of those buildings mattered to them.

Or consider that, a couple of years ago when my farmer and I stood on the steps of the Supreme Court, waiting for the justices to announce their decision on the Hobby Lobby case, we stood next to another farmer. He was in town to testify on a Congressional committee and had made his way to the Supreme Court because he believed strongly in religious liberty and his ability to live and worship as he saw fit. 






So, lest you wonder, yes, we're farmers. And we go to church. 

We're Christians, and more specifically, we're members of The Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod. 

We believe in the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. We believe there's nothing we can do to earn our salvation, that it's all been accomplished by Christ on the cross. 

We believe we're sinners and that our Heavenly Father forgives all our gunk and junk on account of Christ. We believe that the Bible is God's Word, not just that it contains it. And we believe that we live in and by His grace alone.

We believe, as one of my former pastors wrote, "Jesus will not be pushed far away. He becomes one of us to be most near us in every part of our lives. He is like us, and therefore, knows us. Although God is no sinner, He takes our sins on Himself and dies for them on a cross. In that moment, God is the most sinful of us all."

"God dies in our flesh, His flesh. He comes in our flesh to save those who have flesh, those who suffer from their flesh and those who sin in their flesh. He does this because of His compassion for those who are like Him. God is a great lover of sinners. That's Jesus."

And we believe that makes all the difference. 

Want to read more of my 31 day farmacology writing challenge? Click here.