Never Leave

As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.
-Joshua 1:5


The preparations and holiday jitters built for weeks, lights strung with care and snowmen decorations moved a centimeter to the left, and another two centimeters over to the right just a day later, finding that perfect spot in the living room. We covered gifts with jackets of wrapping paper, delicately folded at the corners. We wondered who would fall in love with what lay beneath.

Before we knew it, Christmas appeared for a few beautiful moments, and just like that, it was over. Done and gone for another year. All that remains are memories of the frozen feelings and the reflections from a stable. The weekend ends, lights peel off the tree and ornaments pack away tightly in tissue. The sparkle of the season recedes, and we’re left to continue on with frigid temperatures and no holiday to make it tolerable.

The magic is gone, an illusion that disappeared behind trap Christmas doors. We don’t know what to do, what to cling to now the world says to return whatever you aren’t invested in from gifts given by your great aunt.

There is good news. The season may have left you dragging evergreens to the ditch and undersized sweaters back to the racks, but God isn’t leaving. He won’t go anywhere and will not be cast aside like leftover casserole. “I will never leave you nor forsake you,” He promises, and He makes good on His bargain.

As we head into life after Christmas, let’s carry with us this assurance- Christ has come to comfort and will last long after fleeting holidays fade out.


Prayer:
Thank You for the meaning of Christmas, and for not letting me get caught up in things easily replaced or discarded. You are with me, and when everything else loses its shine, may You burn brightly in my heart. Amen.

Treasures Pondered

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. -Luke 2:19


Christmas presents bought? Check.
Christmas presents wrapped? Working on it.
A silent night to ponder the birth of our Lord? Uh…

This has been my checklist for the past week. I’ve been sucked into the commercial Christmas madness, gifts and cards swirling through my head and enveloping me in such a haze I’ve forgotten what season this actually is. The world says spend, while God says to His son, “Save.”

Kind of a big difference.

I don’t know about you, but I need a rest. I need some perspective.

So travel back in time with me. After miles on the back of a donkey and a city out of stock on accommodations. After a manger, a baby, a shining star above. Gifts and worship presented at the tiny feet of the infant Christ, awestruck, and holy songs sung by angels. Now it is calm. The stalls are cleared of visitors and it is a man, a woman and a King. Above their heads, the sky winks with a night wrapped in soft, quiet, starry wonder. The shepherds are back in their fields, telling their flocks all about the heavenly multitude that brought them to a baby. The magi take the long route back home, determined to deter King Herod. Mary, quietly lying beside her sleeping boy, taking in his every feature. As shadows form his face, she remembers the journey.

When Gabriel appeared to her with a nation’s long awaited news, how surprised and terrified she had been! The Savior, sewn in her womb. This alone was enough to overwhelm, but how she endured the looks and whispers of Nazareth’s busy bodies, who knew she was betrothed yet bore a belly! Unheard of. Unspeakable. Yet the angel of the Lord told her not to be afraid, that the almighty God found favor in her caring eyes, her unwavering and innocent faith. He knew she would be the one to carry His son, to raise the man who would raise the dead. So she took hold of her faith, followed Joseph to a tiny town and welcomed the world’s Light in the darkest of night.

Here she rested, head upon her patchwork pillow, pondering all that had transpired in the hours before. This was only the beginning. The road pressed on, the path, narrow. But for this moment, this tired, breathless moment of reverence, Mary thought of nothing but the sound of her son, our Savior, breathing soundly beside her. She treasured the stillness, the holy night frozen in time. This little boy was everyone’s hope, and tonight, He was her mighty miracle.

This Christmas, settle down. Sit yourself in a cozy chair in the corner of your living room. Turn the tree lights on and the clutter off. Silence yourself before our heavenly Father, pull out a Bible and read the tale of wonder set in the town of Bethlehem. Let’s remember the reason we rush around at all, the one moment that transformed our lives.

Merry Christmas. May you always hear the angels singing, “Glory to God on highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.”


Prayer:
Your Son, sent for our sins. That’s the purpose of Christmas, Lord. Not the rush to get the greatest deals or to see who can feel the most frenzied after lines and drives around cities. Please quiet my spirit. Take me back to that silent night, so long ago, yet so lasting in my heart. To the angels, to the manger. To that sleeping boy who saved us all. Please let me remember why we celebrate this most wondrous time- for Your Son. Amen.

Humble Arrival

And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!
-Philippians 2:8


Winter has arrived with all its icy claws and rasping wind. It’s cold outside. A wrap yourself in seven blankets, heat up some cocoa and perch yourself by a fire kind of cold. I have no urgency to step beyond my heated home and into that world of wracking weather. In a perfect scene where we have the choice of climate I’m highly doubtful many would choose the below freezing temperatures and mounds of snow.

Which makes me think about Jesus, and His first venture into the world He and His Father created. He didn’t ask to be birthed in the tropics, in a cushy hospital room with a jungle-theme nursery waiting at home. He didn’t even demand the best five-star hotel Bethlehem had to offer. Instead, He started His earthly journey in the back of a dimly lit manger, cattle crying beside Him.

The Lord of life, Savior of nations, exalted in the highest heavenly realms, could have stormed the scene with horns blaring and crown set triumphantly on His head. For all He did for us, He deserved an entrance that would have put any ancient royal celebration to shame.

But that wasn’t His style. It wasn’t the purpose of His presence. His Father brought Him to us with clear intent, and this God in the flesh shook the social circle by acting and saying everything contrary to Pharisee teaching.

The last shall be first.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Everything He did, He did on purpose. And that included arriving in less than desirable circumstances- straw for slippers, a birth announcement greeted by lowly shepherds. Our Christ, a kid.

Funny to think about, isn’t it? I’m more pampered than the mighty Prince of Peace. But His humility, His subtle greeting in a town just a dot on the map, determined my fate. For everything I repulse, He embraced. Every shudder at the obscene, He collected at the cross. Our Lord, perfect as a person. Through His journey, He never complained about His starting spot. Because He knew that through what seemed like unappealing, ordinary conditions, something extraordinary would transpire.

You know something? My frostbite and window scraping don’t seem such a burden after all. Not when Christ has carried the frostiness of man’s disbelief on small shoulders, bundled in the shadows of a stable.


Prayer:
Lord, I have no right to complain at all. You have faced more distress than I could possibly imagine, just for me. My Strong Fortress, Savior of my soul, You could have landed anywhere on earth. But You chose a hidden barn at the edge of town, in the middle of a sleeping city. You humbled Yourself so I might have confidence in Your kingdom. Thank You for paving the way for my victory in You. Amen.

Eternal Anticipation

For to us a child is born, to us a Son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
-Isaiah 9:6


I just decorated my apartment for Christmas. It started a few days and tree stands ago (long story), when my roommate and I attempted to bring holiday cheer to our apartment. As soon as December 1 appeared, up went the tree. And then the snowmen placemats and towels made their way to the living room and bathrooms. It looked cozy already. But what I really wanted, what I couldn’t wait for, was the night where I could finally give birth to the season’s magic.

I set my sights on Friday and cleared my calendar. It was me, my tree, tons of music and the ethereal blend of spiced vanilla candles. My apartment would be warm to combat the chill outside. I had it all planned.

And then I waited. Each day of the week passed with a slow shuffle, an agonizing patience stirring in me. I think the farther into the week I went, the farther off Friday seemed to be, like striding the wrong direction on one of those automated walkways at the airport. I hadn’t looked forward to a time like this in a while, and the longer I waited, the more anticipation grew in my heart.

When the appointed day dawned, I leapt for joy. I worked with fervor, delighted in the time spent with my parents and little brother for a bit in the early evening, and nearly burst with excitement as I headed home, eager to create my own winter’s dream.

I danced around my couch, twirling cords and colors with ornaments after stringing lights on my balcony, winter candles lit and a soft glow bathing the walls. Bags of gifts already purchased and cards ready to be written scattered themselves along the carpet, while the wicks of my candles swayed with MercyMe’s version of Silent Night. All too soon, the last strands were laid along the counter, and I surveyed my craftsmanship. Not bad, I thought, admiring the twinkling of the tree, not bad at all.

I was so proud of myself- my first Christmas on my own and the place looks like a (slightly altered) winter wonderland!

This is what I looked forward to all week- my night to load the lights and prepare the presents. To kick back when all was right and pen a few cards to those I care for. The anticipation ran high, sent jolts though my system at the prospect of preparing myself to celebrate this sacred holiday.

Anticipation.

We feel something coming, deep within our bones.

No one felt this tug more certain than the Jews, thousands of years back, while they awaited a Savior.

Through the wilderness. Through their scattering into nations. Through the signs and stumbles and wars and celebrations, they kept their hearts always ahead, hanging on the hope of a hero.

And He appeared. So much sweeter than anything they could have anticipated. But only a few noticed that first night, when He silently slid into the world He came to save. His parents looked down at their precious child, asleep soundly in his makeshift crib of cutout wood. They traced the curve of His nose, the sweep of his cheek that sung with each rise and fall of heavenly breath. His innocence before them, curled in a manger. And as all parents do, they anticipated His life- His childhood, the teachings He would impart not only on them, but on the world. Then the trial. The trail of blood and tears up a hill, where His final task would check complete.

But not now. Not yet. This night was theirs. Between donkeys and dreams, a man placed his newborn in his wife’s arms, gently touched His tender face, and kneeled before them both, amazed how he could ever hold such immense love for someone so small.



Prayer:
Precious Father, thank You for this time of the year. The anticipation of snow, lights and a warm feeling in my soul. But we remember another anticipation, an eternal anticipation and where this excitement fused with You, Father, and Your promise- a manger. With a tiny baby who changed our world. Changed my life. Let me remember the reason for the season. Amen.