The Christmas Letter

This is the 2008 McConnell Christmas Letter

I’m writing this Thanksgiving Weekend in the South Bay. We’ve been with our daughters, son-in-laws, granddaughters and friends enjoying ourselves and one another. Awaiting our flight to LA in the Colorado Springs airport we heard our first Christmas Carol of the season and naturally a stocking full of memories took center stage…

Our girls were little, the colored lights on the tree bigger… the cavalcade of brightly wrapped presents unending… candles, wreaths. Grandma’s etched glass candy dish of M&M’s… the smell of the turkey and/or roast and au jus filling the house (and neighborhood). Telling the Story of Christmas, humming and singing carols, laughter… and of course the pressure of choosing the right gifts and the desire to give more than we ever could. We remembered and wept over Christmas’ past and crackling fires encircled by family no longer with us... there’s nog and the never-eaten fruitcake… watching A Wonderful Life… and of course the Christmas Eve dash to get to church on time, assemble the bikes/etc. and purchase the always-forgotten AAA batteries.

And then we pondered Christmas’ yet to come… how big will this family be, what will this generation’s celebrations include/look like? Where will they be? What memories have we yet to create… and what traditions will our children and grandchildren write up in their Christmas letter?

Somewhere in all of this we wondered what we’ve pondered for several Christmas’ now… have we yet understood and experienced Christmas fully? Might there be more significance to this holiday than we’ve grasped?

As much as we anticipate, enjoy and celebrate the coming of God amongst us and the Story of His invading this world to rescue and offer the life we have all yearned for… hoped for and now may embrace I’m not sure we see clearly all that Christmas means/brings/holds. It’s still a bit opaque. Foggy. The music, lights, tree and all the magic moments speak of something beyond them. They are the elements of a sacrament. They are not it… but they speak of it.

All this to say… we welcome Christmas! More than ever we’re listening, awaiting, watching with arms and hearts wide open for all God has for us in this season. And we hope His best for you!

May He come in a hundred different ways for you: may you find Him next to you in a long line at Best Buy; jumping out of a holiday newsletter/card or a bowl of punch; saddling up next to you as you sing “O Holy Night”; or perhaps late at night as you sit quietly gazing at a tree all aglow lost in your own memories. May you know His love and your place in His heart, may His rescue and life be yours!

Our picture is a family shot taken at Jared and Meagan’s (our second daughter) April wedding in Palm Desert. The newlyweds entre into married life has been notable, indeed, exceptional. Delightfully in love they’re enjoying their little nook/apartment at the beach. They’re both working hard as a Pilates instructor in Manhattan Beach (Meagan) and in advertising for Luxury, Life & Style Magazine in Hermosa Beach (Jared). Their smiles bring a from-the-bottom-of-your toes-to-the-tippy-top-of-your-head smiles to every stinking person they know.

Lindsey (our first daughter) is standing with her husband Vladimir…. I mean Jon (he really took one for the team in this family picture). They’re living in a very large story in Redlands, CA, where they are birthing a church. We’re amazed at all that’s required of both of them in this massively opposed undertaking… and how very, very well they are living up to it.  Lindsey is a stunning young woman/bride/mom and Vladimir… I mean Jon, is a man/husband/father/pastor who has what it takes. The entire family could not be prouder of them! Together they are raising our two youngest angels: Jacqueline Ruby (4 in Feb) and Annie Marie (turned 2 in Sept.). It’s very tempting at this point in the letter to include 67 photos of each with page upon page of stories of the joy they bring us all!

Lori and I continue to live in this huge Story we’ve fallen into. We’re caught up and into something we never could have constructed ourselves… it found us, lured us… and here we are in Colorado lost in a mission with a tribe of gloriously gifted apostles, prophets, teachers, brave hearts, knuckleheads and a guy from Pittsburgh. And though we ache for so much we do not have we have tasted a joy that is full, inexpressible and full of glory. Come again Lord Jesus!

May this be a merry season for us all! – Craig & Lori McConnell 

Mute

Once again I’m struck by my inability to express in words something I’ve seen, felt, touched or heard.  On a 747 at 47,000 feet, somewhere over the rainbow between Los Angeles and Sydney Australia, I’m hoping to describe a few men’s experience of the Boot Camp we just finished. 

I know it’s easy to be cynical reading glowing reports from the field of lives changed, dramatic conversions and profound miraculous works of God. In years past I’ve been on “Missions” that barely resemble the written accounts/reports following them.  Read enough of them and you wonder, who doesn’t make those claims as their “come on” for fund raising, validation or ego stroking…

Heck I’ll admit it...I will, at times, use a little hyperbole here and there… adding a little “color”, but in this case I’m really trying to be true/accurate.

In my initial attempt to write out some of the stories shared with me my words seemed abridged, deficient…”off”.   My word pictures seem like a chalk drawing on a sidewalk… or like my 4 year old granddaughter’s crayon portrait of the family – though beautiful in expressing her heart, and a memory to frame for the office or file in the grand children’s artwork 2008 banker’s box, it doesn’t really  resemble the family…. I’m not that thin, Lori is much cuter and our Labrador Retriever, Sonoma, is a dog with 4 legs not a spider with seven…

Men cried grasping for their own unreachable words to describe what God did for/in/with them. Smiles unseen for decades surfaced/returned; hearts lost were now found, ears heard God for the first time - Imagine a 70 year old man for the first time facing the defining wound of his life… and hearing his Heavenly Father say, “Good on you son, I am proud of you” (an Aussie phrase).  A band of prodigals found their way home, a clique of Pharisees delivered. Gratefulness and appreciation for our coming and offering was almost to the point of embarrassment.  So many used the phrase “for the first time” as a preface to their story of the weekend.  Hearts hard softened, young boys posing as older man grew up in some unseen region of their soul… the wolf hidden as a sheep was exposed,  horrifically godless systemic agreements with the Liar exposed and expunged…. faith birthed/renewed. For many hope returned (for themselves, their marriages or families), for others some important/timely/foundational questions – prerequisites for a walk with God were faced honestly… (it’s at this point I fall asleep for a 5 hour segment of the 13 hour flight whispering to God, “How do I say all this… what words can capture your majesty among us?).

Waking… sort of, I coincidentally… sort of, come across a thought of Augustine as he ends an attempt to describe the inexplicable virtues and supremacy of God by saying…

What can a man say about you my God, my life, my holy joy? Woe to him that that does not speak, and the mute are the most eloquent.

While I had to try and find the words to describe all God did, I’m more eloquent in my stunned holy silence. In His presence I am mute. - Craig McConnell

 

 

 

It's About God!

I am in Australia with the Ransomed Heart team about to begin our four day Boot Camp. A good part of the day is spent preparing my heart and words for the sessions I lead. I often suffer from a spiritual amnesia: forgetting much about God... his faithfulness to me through the years... his heart for me... who I am and all that he's called me to be and to offer to others; and so I peruse my journals for stories and truth. This particular journal entry jumped out.

I've recognized and felt that the presence of God trumps our giftedness, skill, wisdom and best efforts to minister and/or speak for him. I can't count the times I've said, "You could be speaking on world geography and if God shows up people will be blessed, healed, saved... transformed." This weekend exposed that I really haven't believed that to be true.

In seminary I had a class on preaching that involved ten of us preaching at/to one another for a couple of semesters. We’d evaluate, react and encourage one another’s content, style and organization. At the end of the term the prof gave each of us our final evaluation verbally in front of the class.

A classmate, Anthony, was not an articulate or engaging speaker. He knew his material; was genuine; soft-spoken had a string bean stature and obese insecurities. The prof told him that he was actually, in the larger scheme of things, in a good place as a young preacher adding, “Whereas Craig has natural skills and abilities that will make him a good communicator he will be prone to rely on his own abilities and not God. You Anthony, have no margin. You’re not a natural communicator and the absence of those gifts leaves/parks/rivets you in a place of on-going dependence upon God. And Anthony, that’s the best place to be as a preacher.”

Looking back I realize I took my professors remarks regarding me as a form of validation. His comments lit the path to a validation I was starving for. I was talented. I am good at something! A man with a doctorate… a seminary prof thinks I’m a natural!! Eureka!

What was offered to me as a warning, as sagely counsel, I took as direction/an invitation to life. Life apart from God.

I was young, naïve. Foolish.

My appraisal of Anthony was that he wouldn’t make it as a teacher/preacher… I couldn’t see God matching his against-all-odds work through Moses, Gideon and David in Anthony.   

So, Friday night I’m speaking on “The Centrality of the Heart” and “The Masculine Heart” to a group of 200 reserved Presbyterian men. It was a less-than-stellar session. A film clip I planned to use was botched by the tech guy, I slogged through a point or two, lacked energy, was slurring my speech… it was definitely not a home run, it was a sliding double.

As is common for me after a muddled/unhinged session like that I was growling.

At God.

Why isn’t this easier? I’m putting myself out there for you… dealing with the deeper issues of my heart; battling the warfare; refining, tinkering, editing my sessions constantly; praying, consecrating myself and all I have to you… and it seems like it’s always a one star result.*  I’ve got intercessors praying for heavens sake!  Though I’d love to see signs and wonders I’m not expecting that… it just seems like there ought to be more… and it ought not to be so hard. I mean really!?!%$#? How many willing vessels do you have out there working their fool-ass/buns off to bring the transforming power and truth of the Gospel to others?

At myself.

I’m such a smuck! Why can’t I do this? What is it about me that makes this so hard? It seems to come much easier for others with less talent, less mature, less self-aware and readily available. My God, watch the parade of whackos on some of the "Christian" television programming… they seem to have some sway with God... What’s wrong with me? I may not be a sea gull, but I feel like an auk, tern or sandpiper.**  I will never realize my deepest dreams and desires for my life. (Believe me this is the condensed version).

There’s a silence.

My growling stops and God pops out of nowhere.

In a medley of God’s voice and some older-true-self voice saying…

How astonishingly self absorbed I am! I finish my session and I immediately go to, “How did I do…? Did I deliver God on a silver platter? Are they stunned into repentance and yearning for God? How’d I do? How’d I do? How’d I do?”

Silence.

And then the voice that was disruptive, convicting, hopeful and liberating…

The vital question/issue really isn’t how I did… it’s more along the lines of “did God show up for the men?”

And in a twinkling of an eye  a whole lot of stuff becomes clear.

I’ve been in an eddy concerned about my performance… subconsciously replaying, reviewing; critiquing my points; illustrations, pace, my connection to the audience and their engagement; evaluating, re-evaluating, no audience reaction or response is insignificant… everything is data to adjust, edit and craft the session that will bring the kingdom of God to everyone graced to be under my tutelage.

The truth is I never really viewed myself as more than a journeyman communicator and I realize I have no margins. I need God to show up… I haven’t learned what ongoing dependence upon God looks like.

I can talk about world geography and if God shows up people will be healed, saved, transformed… I can talk about the Centrality of the Heart with everything I’ve got and if God isn’t in it I might as well have been talking about geography.

Christianity 101.

At some core level I’ve been more focused/passionate about… committed to my being anointed/blessed than I have been on God showing up for the men.

How incredibly self absorbed I am!

I’ve considered myself as indispensable… necessary to the process of their transformation and, as a result bore the weight that “I must come through”… Lives depend upon it.

I depend upon it!

I remember Anthony. I am Anthony.

In that moment, as is often the case when God exposes and then invites, some reorientation takes place. I abandoned my agreement/connection/rooted-ness on my consuming self-absorption, my priestly indispensability.

And somewhere in my Christianity 101-adolescent self I enjoyed myself, God and speaking to a group of wild eyed Presbyterian men more than I have in a while.

Craig McConnell

* Using the Michelin awards guide of one to three stars to indicate quality.

** I'll have to write about the significance of the reference to being a "sea gull" at another time. In brief my dad, in anger, referred to me as a "sea gull... all you're good for is sitting, squawking and shitting". Needless to say it was a wounding label that I have nothing to offer.