Chosen

I thought perhaps I wouldn't have time {or inspiration} this year for a pre-Christmas post, but now with both in hand, I'll give it a go and hope it gives you something to think about as you prepare for Christmas Eve.

I Choose You

When everyone around you sees an ordinary life

Fit for nothing more than common dreams

I can see the stars of Heaven shining in your eyes

Soon the world will hear the angels sing

Mary, I know it's hard to understand

You hold the light of the world in your hands

I choose you to bring the world a Savior

I choose you to bring the world a King

I choose you to be the arms of love that hold the answer

For the world to see my promises come true

I choose you

I know there are many questions weighing on your mind

What is becoming of your life?

Oh, just remember I have called you to leave your fears behind

To walk by faith and not by sight

Mary, I know it's all a mystery

My hand is leading if you'll only believe

I choose you to bring the world a Savior

I choose you to bring the world a King

I choose you to be the arms of love that hold the answer

For the world to see my promises come true

I choose you

And he shall be called Emmanuel

Wonderful, Prince of Peace

I choose you to bring the world a Savior

I choose you to bring the world a King

I choose you to be the arms of love that hold the answer

For the world to see my promises come true

I choose you

I choose, I choose you

For the world to see my promises come true

For the world to see my love come shining, I

I choose you...

Every year, this song is sung during the last Advent service at my church. Every year I love it, but only this year did I realize that the words are not reserved solely for Mary, or Mary's circumstances, or Mary's calling by God. 

In fact - aside from the physical acts of carrying the baby for nine months, giving birth and raising him when he was a child - what God asked of Mary is identical to what He asks of me, you, and every Christian on earth. In the words of the song, it was like a puzzle coming together in my head.

When everyone around you sees an ordinary life

Fit for nothing more than common dreams

I can see the stars of Heaven shining in your eyes

Soon the world will hear the angels sing.

Mary, I know it's hard to understand

You hold the light of the world in your hands.

I've often wondered the same thing: what can an ordinary, not exceptionally bold, constantly sinning human like me do for a God who created the universe and holds it spinning in His hand? It is hard to understand that we are called by God - not because we desired Him, but because He desired us - and He has given us the Light of the World. To hold in our hands for all to see.

I choose you to bring the world a Savior

I choose you to bring the world a King

I choose you to be the arms of love that hold the answer

For the world to see my promises come true

I choose you...

I know there are many questions weighing on your mind

What is becoming of your life?

Oh, just remember I have called you to leave your fears behind

To walk by faith and not by sight

Mary, I know it's all a mystery

My hand is leading if you'll only believe

The angel Gabriel came to Mary and said "Greetings, you who are highly favored; the Lord is with you!" 

Highly favored.

Those words are not solely for Mary either. She was chosen to carry the Son of God for nine months, to bear the scorn of those who refused to believe the truth, to give birth in the cold with only Joseph to help - a man with absolutely no experience in any of the areas she most needed. Yet we, as undeserving but perhaps not as humble or willing, are also chosen to bring the Savior to a confused and desperate world.

 

To bring a King to those who have lost control of their lives. 

To be the arms of His love, reaching out with the only answer that will heal and make whole. 

To prove that the words God has spoken will not return to Him empty.

And we're confused and questioning too. Why this? Why that? What is happening to the life I had under control, organized and planned out?

Why me?

Because we are not chosen to keep this great light to ourselves.We are chosen to believe in something so much bigger than ourselves. To believe it with such tenacity and abandon that we'll do the seemingly illogical and walk forward in faith, not seeing, but only believing, that He who began this good work in us will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.  

And in those words is our greatest hope: that we have not been called in vain. That the God who chose us for reasons we don't understand will also use us in ways we cannot imagine. 

Merry Christmas! 

He Says

Here is the poem I promised to share. It's far from perfect (believe me!), because I've never really dabbled in poetry much, but this is sort of how it came out, with or without meter or rhyme.

He Says

In heaven, they say, there is a God,

whom the Bible declares is loving;

that He sees me fall and yet forgives all,

but, oh, are His hands held out to me?

He says I’m His dove, I’m His princess royal,

He says that He thinks I’m flawless,

but I’m soiled and stained and ragged and torn, so tell me,

are His hands held out to me?

He says that He cares, He says that He’s good,

He says that His blood is atoning,

but how can He see all that I do, and still hold out His hands to me?

He says that He knows that I’ll stumble and fall,

He says that it’s all forgiven.

But still I don’t see what He finds in me,

that makes my redemption worth the price.

For He shed His blood on Calvary’s cross,

thinking not of Himself, but me.

And the blood that He lost, covered the cost

of the sins that made me a debtor.

And when I believed, He gave full reprieve

and welcomed me then as His child

And now I see that what He says is true,

and His hands are really held out to me.

Still I don’t understand how I can act

as if all of this never happened.

How I can turn my back and forget He’s there –

holding out His hands to me.

He says to be still and know He is God,

and though I really do try;

so quickly my mind fills with other thoughts

and He is pushed out and forgotten.

Then I struggle and fight and try to do right

but sin is an impulse so tempting

that more often than not, I give in and ignore

the God that is holding His hands out for me.

I get so exhausted trying to do what is right,

because my resistance seems so futile

but one thing I know,

that no matter the sin,

no matter the wrong,

no matter the awful thing I’ve done,

He’ll look in my eyes and say without pause:

“My darling, My hands are held out to you.”

'Till next time,

© JocelynRose 2011

Branching Out

Jamie and I have decided that after years of putting it off and saying we can't do it, we will try our hands at writing forms other than our sole venue, the full-length novel.

*cue deep breath and heroic gesture*

I am going to attempt a poem and Jamie is going to write a short story.

Currently the poem -- entitled He Says -- is a pile of scribbled post-it notes on top of the armoire in my room. The short story (hopefully she can keep it from turning into novel-length...), which Jamie says is still in the thought stage with an outline in the works, will be called Holly and Ivy. 

We'll share them both when they're finished, unless we absolutely hate them.

'Till next time,

&