A Season of Hope

By Susan Dollyhigh –

Gathering around the kitchen table at the homeless shelter, we lit the purple Advent candle that symbolizes hope. Hope that this small group of women had long-ago abandoned. Hope that I’d sometimes forsaken as well.

I reminded the women that as Christians we have great reason to hope.

“The prophet Isaiah gave the world hope when he foretold the birth of Christ,” I said. “Jesus gave us eternal hope after He came to earth and promised to return and take us with him. That eternal hope surpasses the condition of our lives here on earth.”

Even the condition of illness.
Even the condition of job loss.
Even the condition of domestic violence.
Even the condition of just being released from jail.
Even the condition of struggling with an addiction.
All of the conditions that lead to homelessness, we concurred.

We made lists of things we hope for: this week, this Christmas season, next year, and for the rest of our lifetime here on earth.

We talked about the hope we have that someday Christ will take us to our permanent heavenly home where there will be no more illness, no more job loss, no more sin, no more homelessness, and no more death. We tried to imagine what our life in Heaven will be like, and how we’ll feel when we see Jesus face-to-face.

As we talked, the peace that passes understanding replaced expressions of worry.

At that moment, an uninvited guest showed up. He loves to steal our joy, and remind us of sins our Father has forgotten. He did just that as he reminded one of the ladies of her past sins.

Shirley’s face drooped with sadness, “I know I’m going to Heaven,” she said. “but I have a feeling I’ll be in the back of the crowd and won’t be able to see Jesus. I’ve just done too many bad things in my life.”

Janice chimed in, “Yeah, I’ll probably be in the back too.”

“You know,” I said, “if all the sinners have to be in the back of the crowd, there won’t be anyone up front with Jesus! He’ll be all alone.”

They slowly smiled. They just needed a reminder, as do we all in this season of Advent. We have hope. We have the good news of great joy that is for all the people. In the town of David, a Savior was born and He is Christ the Lord.

PRAYER: Father, thank You for the hope we have because of the wonderful gift of Your Son, Jesus Christ.

“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 NIV).

Does Size Matter? The “S” Word: Part One

By Lori Freeland –

Mistakes. Poor judgment calls. Transgressions. Errors. Veering off the path. Blunders. Slip-ups. Oversights. Lapses. Misunderstandings.

The thesaurus holds many words for sin.

And no matter what the label, everyone sins.

We can’t help it. We’re human. No matter how hard I try, I will always mess up somewhere along the journey, whether in thought or deed or motivation.

Flawlessness?

Never going to happen. God knows that about me. I can’t hide from Him—even though some days I want to bury what I’ve done or thought or said.

“I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out” (Romans 7:18 NIV).

That should be my life verse. I try and try and try and never reach the bar. I never will.

Yet God demands perfection because He is holy and righteous and perfect. Those magnificent attributes render Him unable to stand any of my sins—or whatever label I choose to slap on my transgressions.

“He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he” (Deuteronomy 32:4).

Do I give up? Or try harder? Find a mentor? Lock myself away? Promise to be better?

Thankfully, none of those things. My answer lies in redemption.

Redemption, “the act of saving something or somebody from a declined, dilapidated, or corrupted state and restoring it, him, or her to a better condition” (Encarta Dictionary) is not mine to reach for or attain.

Redemption comes from the Lord and His sacrifice. His atonement for what I’ll never be. A free gift to me that cost Him everything.

“For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:17).

If I choose to accept this gift of righteousness, is there a limit on the number of sins blanketed by His blood? Are there sins too large, too deep, too ugly that will show through black no matter how much white He paints over me?

No. Because He doesn’t paint over my sins at all, He wipes them clean.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). From all unrighteousness. All.

Bottom line. I screw up. He forgives. And the more He forgives, the more He loves, the more He coats me in His redemptive blood, the less I sin. And not because of anything I’ve done. Anything good in me belongs to Him alone.

What better time than the Christmas season, when Jesus came to be our atonement, to meditate on the True Gift of redemption.

All that is required of me is acceptance. I have to lift The Gift from His outstretched hands and claim His atonement. It’s like winning the life lottery. The ticket does me no good until I cash in the winning numbers. I need to trade my sin for His perfection.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:16, 17).

Picture me, holding up this banner. Not at a football game, but at the game that is your life and mine.

Now, what will you do with it?

Finding Joy in the Season

By Diane Mayfield –

Christmas traditions fill my heart with such joy. They always have. When our three children were young, part of our Christmas tradition was to have them choose a gift to put under the tree for Jesus’ birthday. I loved to see what they would choose. One might wrap her favorite doll to place under the tree. A stuffed kitty cat made her way under the tree for Jesus. There was even a favorite toy gun. When the kids grew, the gift giving to Jesus grew as well. Gifts of the heart were shared during a private family dinner that then would end with communion.

We also held a Jesus birthday party for the neighborhood kids. The first year we had the party, one of my son’s friends broke out in Chicken Pox the day after the party. Ten days later, all three of my children, under the age of four, broke out with that itching disease. Can I call that spiritual warfare?

It didn’t stop us though. We kept on having the party and inviting school friends and neighborhood families. One year, I dressed up as an angel, halo and all, and told the story from the angel’s point of view. Another year my husband Dave appeared as a shepherd, speaking from the shepherd’s perspective.

I loved those years of teaching and training our kids about Jesus. Several months ago, I asked them what they remembered about all those traditions and which one meant the most. You won’t believe what they said. They loved the praying together at the top of the stairs before we went down to the tree. All five of us gathered at the top of the stairs to pray. We thanked God for the gift of Jesus, His unconditional love, and for being able to share the day with family. Who knew that would be the tradition they carried in their hearts.

Well, those children are now grown. Two are married and live in Houston. One lives in Austin. So getting everyone together on the same day to celebrate Christmas this year is not possible due to extended family complications. And quite honestly, I’m heartbroken about it. It is one of my greatest joys in life being together as a family. This is the first year we won’t be together.

On my walk this morning, I said to God, “ Help me with all this. I need a renewed perspective. I need to find the joy in the season again.” In His sweet, gentle way, He took me to those memories of years ago and reminded me of my former teaching to my kids about giving to Jesus. It’s not just for kids. Because one thing didn’t work out the way I wanted it to, I’d lost heart. I’d thrown out what I’d spent so much of my life teaching. So, the question for me is what will I give to Jesus this season. How will I package it? And when will I start the giving?

I don’t have the whole answer yet, but suddenly the dark cloud has lifted and I’m filled with the joy of discovering what the gift will be. I’m starting with changing my focus from what isn’t going to happen to what is happening. I have time with my children and grandchildren, not all on the same day, but at least I will get time with all of them. Who knows, maybe in some way that will extend my joy.

Traditions change, but not the real meaning of God’s greatest gift to us, His Son Jesus.

My Peace I Give to You

By Anna Cannard –

I was brand new to town. Two thousand miles from home. On my own. I had lived in Tulsa for less than a month when I met little “Sandra.” In the midst of missing my days as an intern at the Child Welfare Department, I learned my school did weekly visits to a local children’s shelter. It sounded like the perfect fit.

When I went into the building, the first person I saw was a little blond boy, crying for his mommy. The staff told me he was very upset over being removed from his abusive home, and would benefit from being held by a woman. I spent most of my evening with the boy, contentedly snuggled in my arms.

Throughout the evening, it was hard not to notice the sound of an infant crying non-stop across the room. After two hours, the frustration was obvious on the staff’s faces. It was then I remembered my nickname back home—Baby Magic—for my skill in making babies happy.

I handed the boy to someone else and asked for a turn holding baby Sandra. The staff gladly handed her to me, and Sandra continued to cry loudly. I was told she was born addicted to drugs and almost did not survive. After three months in ICU, she was released into foster care. She would not eat and was restless with crying. They decided if she did not eat within the next few hours, she would be sent back to the hospital, but they were hoping that would not have to happen.

That moment I said a quiet prayer, “Lord, let her know she is safe. Give her Your peace.” Within seconds, the infant was asleep. Twenty minutes went by with her peacefully asleep in my arms when I was handed a bottle. “Maybe you can get her to eat,” a staff member suggested.

Ten minutes later, there was a circle of staff surrounding me, admiring the pink peaceful baby girl. “This is the first time she’s been quiet since getting here,” a woman said. The bottle of formula was now empty. “That’s the most she’s eaten, also.”

It was nearing the end of my time there that night, and I was asked to feed her again. People thought I must have some special ability to work with babies, but I knew the secret; it was not me but Christ working through me.

John 14:27 says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

I challenge you, as Christians, to walk with the peace of God. He has given it to you to change your world. It is rare; it can only be given to you by God, and through you, wherever you go, you may be His gift to the world.

Labels: Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em

By Hally Franz –

A few friends and I gathered this morning to begin a Bible study based on the book Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World by Joanna Weaver. The book examines the story of two Biblical sisters, one consumed with household details as Jesus comes to visit, the other who simply sits to enjoy His company. The first question we were asked to consider was whether we relate to or view ourselves more as a Martha-type or Mary-type person. We each weighed-in on the matter, and I immediately felt connected to the other woman who identified with Martha.

There are a thousand ways to identify or label ourselves in this culture. Recently, we were immersed in words like: democrat, republican, libertarian, conservative, pro-life, pro-choice, red states and blue states. And, to a greater or lesser degree, each of us assumes some combination of those as our own.

We all lean either toward introversion or extroversion. Our children attend schools with other kids – kids who all label one another as jocks, band kids, drama queens, farm boys and emos. Our diverse world includes tree-huggers, homeschoolers and social climbers.

Our population includes folks from other cultures and parts of the world. My husband is a first-generation American son of German immigrants. He’s broad-shouldered, blue-eyed and blond, a stereotypical German. We have friends that are equally Irish and Italian.

When it comes to matters of faith, there are Presbyterians, Lutherans, Catholics and Baptists, and that only covers the Christian denominations. It goes on and on….

These labels help us to make associations with others in our community, country and world. They enable us to more easily connect with like-minded individuals. However, if we lack an appreciation and genuine love for all types of people, these same identifiers can become divisive.

Martha learned from Mary. Our elected officials are challenged and made better by opposing opinions. Introverts laugh at the jokes of extroverts, and kids can develop tolerance by sitting in class next to those unlike themselves. We grow and we learn, and, hopefully, we remember the one label that every one of us shares. Each one of us is a CHILD OF GOD!

At a time when our world seems divided, let’s remember our shared connection at Christmas!

PRAYER: Almighty Father, it’s easy to separate ourselves from those who differ from us. But, at this time of Christian joy and peace, help us all to keep in mind the truth that we are all children of God, created by You and benefactors of Your gift of salvation.

“He did not say this on his own, but as high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one” (John 11:51-52 NIV).

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