Immanuel

“They will call him Immanuel, which means ‘God is with us." ~ Matthew 1:23

I fancy myself a fledgling, amateur photographer.  I love to shoot things … with my digital camera, especially along the beach at sunrise.  Today I saw something truly inspiring – an army of small crabs marching straight forward, instead of sideways.

Although somewhat elusive, these soldier crabs are occasionally found on sandy shores at low tide.  Their appearance is quite unlike crabs we typically see.  They have a sky-blue dome about the size of a nickel.  Attached to this dome are long, spindly, legs, used skillfully to raise up and move freely on sand.

After watching them for a while, I decided to start shooting some photos.  I removed the lens cover to focus.  That subtle movement was enough for them to quickly bury themselves into the sand.  Poof!  They literally disappeared before I could fire off a single shot.

I immediately had to learn more about these fascinating creatures.

Sensing fear from either rising tides or, in my case, from a potential predator, they burrow in a corkscrew motion; digging down with the legs on one side of their bodies while the opposing legs walk backwards.  This creates a safe, breathing cavity around themselves until danger subsides.  At high tide they may be covered by as much as 6 feet of water.

Sensing my presence, they vanished in seconds, leaving nothing behind but sandy mounds.   I likely appeared too large and overpowering.

For me, it created a clear image of what God does so graciously for us.  We are very much like those tiny soldier crabs.  Our fallen nature causes us to feel far too insignificant and much too sinful to converse with God the Almighty.

Neither did He alarm us or oppress us by approaching our world wrapped in Heaven’s majestic and regal splendor.  He chose to approach us in a way that made it easier for us.  He became a human being – not a big, powerful and overwhelming human being, but a common, ordinary person – and then lived among us.

Had He approached us in His grandeur and brilliance we would have been overwhelmed, fearful, uncertain.  We’d have buried our heads (and bodies) in the sand, just like soldier crabs.

Instead, our Sovereign Savior redeemed us by joining us.  The Son of God became a person to allow us to become the children of God.  What a great, gracious and generous God we serve!

The Christmas miracle was not just about a virgin giving birth.  Christian faith asserts that God is so great that He shows His magnificence in the gift of humility and condescension – by becoming one of us in order to save humankind and show God’s love.

Almighty God, help me understand the profound mystery of Your holy Incarnation for our salvation.  There is nothing so wonderful as when You, my God, became flesh so that we might become like God; humbling yourself that we may become mighty.  Blessed are you, Immanuel, for dwelling among us.  Amen

Oh Holy Night

“At the right time, God sent his Son, born of a woman, subject to ordinary law." ~ Galatians 4:4

Believe it or not, "O Holy Night" was written by someone who wasn’t very holy at all.  The words were penned by Placide Cappeau, an amateur poet and local wine merchant with contempt for religious authority.  Nonetheless, when a local priest sought to memorialize renovations to his church’s organ, he asked Cappeau to write a poem for the Christmas service.

Cappeau imagined himself a witness to Christ’s birth.  The wonder of that glorious moment flowed from his pen as "Cantique de Noel" (Song of Christmas).  Ironically, his enduring legacy is for a song whose message he never believed.

Moved by his own work, Cappeau turned to a friend, Adolphe Adams, to put his words to music.  As a Jewish man, the words of "Cantique de Noel" represented a day Adams didn't celebrate and a man he didn’t view as the son of God.

The carol became instantly popular, but plummeted once word got out about Cappeau’s atheism and Adams’ Jewish faith.  The church leadership banned the song from the liturgy.

Eventually, this tune reached the ears of John Sullivan Dwight, a minister, who in 1855, translated it into English.  The resulting hymn became “O Holy Night.”  His version sanitized some of the original, more controversial lyrics.

Chorus

Fall on your knees, Oh hear the angel voices!  O night divine!  O night when Christ was born.  O  holy night, O night divine.

“Holy” means “set apart,” and there was certainly no night like that one.  But the Bible actually goes to great lengths to convince us of the opposite.

The night was ordinary; we have no biblical record of the stars being especially bright that night.  Just, ordinary shepherds, and ordinary and stable, and remarkably ordinary parents.

Yet Jesus was no ordinary baby - innocent, vulnerable, and dependent.  His birth marked the occasion when God became one of us.  The world needed a savior - someone who would provide a way out of the mess of sin and make us right with God.

No god before Him had ever taken such a human journey.  How could we follow His footsteps if He hadn’t crawled as a child?  How could we believe He understood the temptations we face if He’d bypassed the difficulties we struggle with in gaining adulthood?

It would’ve meant less to us if He’d sprung from heaven fully formed, bathed in heavenly glory, saying, "Here are my hands and my feet - place me upon the cross, for I am willing to die."

We trust Him with our lives because He is God.  We love him with our hearts because He was a tiny baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

Almighty Father, I pray that as we listen to “O Holy Night” this Christmas our attention will be drawn away from shopping, overeating and endless images of Santa.  Let our devotion be drawn to the One who made that night truly divine.  Amen

Joyful Anticipation

“I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows Me will never live in darkness." ~ John 8:12

Woody’s brain was at 3% battery power - a level of exhaustion nearing insanity.  He needed to shut down until completely recharged.  He almost finished trimming a Christmas tree that’d taken many days due to 2-year-old twins, frantic shopping, and a furnace that retired unexpectedly.

Decorating the tree had always been his favorite holiday tradition.  But over the years, stringing lights had proven to be the biggest area of contention.  Woody thought the lights should be laced loosely around the tree so that the tip of each branch twinkled.  Rachel, in the name of structural integrity, preferred to snugly bind the trunk so the lights cast shadows on the ornaments outward.

This year, a friend had given them their old, pre-lit artificial tree.  No more arguments about aesthetics, pine needles to clean up, or wads of colored lights to untangle.  Problem solved!

The decoration inspired nostalgia – tarnished glass ornaments, hand-painted salt-dough figurines and vintage beaded garlands.  They’d stopped using tinsel when the cat joined the family.   Candy canes were hung just beyond the twins’ reach.

The final adornment, too, lacked elegance: an angel fashioned from beige cloth and denim; each stitch sewn by his mother.  Dirt smudges lined its face; its once shiny wings had dulled with age.

But age wasn’t the only thing this little angel had accumulated.  It was soaked in joyful memories; a bridge to years gone by.  He climbed the ladder and respectfully placed it atop the tree.

Woody slumped into his recliner just before eight-year-old Kevin climbed onto his lap.  “You gonna turn on the lights?” he asked.

“Just waiting for you pal,” Woody replied, plugging in the cord.

Nothing happened.  The tree remained dark.

Woody felt like crying (brain down to 1%)!  “Maybe we should leave the lights off this year.”

“Dad, we must have lights,” Kevin cautioned.  “We learned in Sunday School that the greatest things about light is that it helps us to see.  The Bible calls Jesus the "light of the world” and we celebrate this when we remember His birth.”

Of course, he thought as he began his quest to discover the broken bulb or connection which caused the entire string to turn off.

Unraveling crisscrossed, knotted, and frayed Christmas lights is a real test of patience.  But it seems the more we hurry, the more tangled they become.  Eventually we discover our hurried pace only lengthens the process and makes preparing for Christmas a chore instead of a holy season of peace and tranquility.

Instead of literally getting caught up in Christmas lights, embrace Advent with “joyful anticipation” of Jesus’ birth and rediscover how it changed the world 2,000 years ago and still does to this day.

Jesus, don’t let me lose my direction or become consumed by darkness because I took my eyes off of You.  Just as you guided the wise men to Jesus, be my guiding light this holiday season. Each day, realign my heart toward what matters most.  Amen.

The Innkeeper

“Our Father’s only Son became flesh and made His dwelling among us." ~ John 1:14

Twas the biggest night of the year - the night of the annual Christmas pageant.  It was a really big deal for the children who auditioned for various roles in the Christmas story.

Owen wanted to be in the play, too, but he was … well, a slow learner – a sweet, gentle boy of below average intelligence.  The director was hesitant.  She knew Owen would be crushed if he didn't have a part, but she was afraid he might flub the pageant’s magic moment.

So, she cast Owen as the innkeeper - the one who turns Mary and Joseph away the night Jesus is to be born.  He would have only one simple line, but no one could imagine what that single line would inspire for everyone's Christmas.

It was a magical night; the church was packed.  The Christmas story unfolded as rehearsed - Angels singing, Joseph's dream, and the trip to Bethlehem.  Finally, Joseph and Mary arrived at the Inn’s door; travel-weary and exhausted.  Joseph knocked on the Inn’s door, and Owen opened it on cue.

"Do you have a room for the night?" Joseph inquired humbly.

Owen flushed; the kind of blushing that reveals the soul, a sort of compliment to its delicate innocence within.  He took a deep breath before muttering his line: “I'm sorry - we have no room."

After a little coaching, he shut the door.  The director heaved a sigh of relief - prematurely.

Discouraged, Mary and Joseph walked away as coached.  Owen let out a huge sigh from behind the closed door; loud enough to be amplified throughout the sanctuary by the hard-of-hearing sound engineer.  The door opened.

Owen reappeared!  Then, in an unrehearsed moment that patrons would not soon forget, Owen ran after the young couple, yelling assuredly: "Wait!  Don't go Joseph. Please come back!  You can have MY room!"

The crowd went silent.  Owen’s misinterpretation was pure genius; so splendid, so profound as to have no parallel.  As if the Truth had been delivered by God Himself through the purity of a child.

Owen may have understood the true Christmas message better than any of the patrons that night.  How can you leave Jesus outside?  You have to make room for the Son of God this Christmas.

Jesus traded His Heavenly palace for a stable, and the praise of angels for human mockery.  He’s at YOUR door this Christmas.  Maybe He's been knocking for a long time.

All your life - even the events of the last few months - have been to prepare you for this moment with Jesus.  Don't leave Him outside any longer.  Open the door this Christmas season.  Let Him have room in our heart, in your life.

Lord Jesus, I believe You are the Son of God, that You came to earth to rescue me from my sins.  Restore me, come reign in my heart, fill me with Your love and help me to become more like You.  Amen

Giving It All

“Gifts not given from the heart gain nothing." ~ 1 Corinthians 3:13

This is the time of year when Harold should be reveling in the spirit of the season; his heart filled with the joy he felt as a child.  He wanted to be lifted by the true meaning of Christmas; he needed to feel it.  But it wasn’t there.  Not yet anyway.

Maybe it’s the daily assault of commercials, ads, and holiday sales.  Every imaginable electronic gadget is touted as something that’ll change our lives.  Kids are asking for these items which cost hundreds of dollars at a pop.  And parents are obliging.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the drudgery of everyday life.  Time is limited.  Bills are abundant.  Harold’s own life was chaotic: coaching high school basketball, raising his own two kids, attending a plethora of holiday parties, and lately – he was asked by his church to chair the annual “Making Christmas Magical” campaign to collect toys for families with limited financial means.  Toy donations are something even very young children can understand and participate in.

They established 12 drop-off locations placed throughout the community – at restaurants, shopping malls, and sporting venues.  And the toys poured in.

As Harold collected one of the boxes for distribution, something caught his eye.  Among the assortment of dolls, plush toys, electronics, and books was something uncommon - a gift not purchased from a fancy department store.  It wasn’t wrapped in festive paper and adorned with ribbons and bows.  This donation came without a receipt and couldn’t be taken back.

What caught his eye were 2 used pencils wrapped in torn notebook paper with a drawing of a “heart” for someone in need.  Harold lifted it from the box; running his fingers across well-worn surfaces.  It touched his heart, dissolving deep into his soul.

Maybe the child that gave these pencils came from a poor family who would have wanted one of the new toys in a colorful, shiny box.  But this child gave something from the core; something much greater than him or herself.

Such a precious gift; offered so humbly and lovingly.  Perhaps it was intended specifically for Harold to remind him of the simplicity of Christmas; that the best gifts are not material items but blessings of listening, of kindness, of remembering, of visiting, of forgiving.

Merry Christmas everyone!  It’s a magical time when miracles happen, hearts are softened, and the pure love of Christ is felt and experienced like no other time of the year.  As we consider the example and infinite sacrifice of our Savior, may we also consider how we can be more Christlike in our associations with family and friends, not just during this season but throughout the year.

Almighty Father, thank You for the most generous gift of all - Your son Jesus.  Open the doors of our hearts and reach out to those around us who are lonely, forgotten, or poor in spirit.  May we glorify You with all we’re blessed with.  Amen

Best Laid Plans

“Don’t worry – I got this!” ~ Isaiah 41:1

Liz had it all figured out by high school graduation.  She knew what she wanted to study in college, where she wanted to live, what she wanted to name her 5 kids, and had a good idea about who would be standing by her through all of it.  However, life happens in between all those pot holes along life’s highway.

After attaining a Master's Degree in nursing, her career rocketed skyward.  But when a long-term relationship ended, her prospects at motherhood dimmed.  As much as she loved playing aunt to a dozen nieces and nephews, Liz needed more.

She sought counsel from a fertility specialist.  Her optimism took a detour with lab results that disqualified her for IVF.  Doubt shot through her heart like an arrow without resistance; killing any hope of becoming a mom.

Or so she thought.

Later that same day, Liz (now Director of Nursing) was doing Pediatric rounds when she stopped dead her tracks by a beautiful baby girl.  Her little face glowed from a light within.  Somehow it felt like she knew Liz needed comfort in the midst of her pain.

“Her name is Gisele,” said the nurse in charge.  The adorable child cooed as only a baby could, unblemished yet by the hurts of life.  Yet hers had been anything but a fairy tale so far.

Born 11 weeks prematurely, Gisele suffered withdrawals from opioid exposure during the pregnancy.  After her birth parents abandoned her, she became a ward of the state and spent the last 5 months at the Liz’s hospital without a single visitor.  Her hospital stay was finally nearing an end, but with nowhere to go, she’d be placed in foster care.

Those plans changed the day she met Liz Smith.

The two bonded immediately.  Liz visited this sweet baby frequently through all her complications and setbacks.  She couldn’t get baby Gisele out of her mind.  With guidance and support from family, friends and co-workers, Liz made the difficult decision to foster the infant. “I’m going to be her Mommy … for now.”  And when Gisele’s birth parents didn’t appeal their rights being terminated and no biological relatives offered to adopt her, Liz again stepped up.

Fate brought them together; God’s grace will keep them so.

The Smiths all gathered at the courthouse to finalize the adoption.  It wasn’t until the judge read her name aloud as “Gisele Katherine Smith” that Liz felt her dream of motherhood come true.

Woody Allen once said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”  God continually puts just the right person in our lives, presents us with challenges that stretch our capabilities, or provides timely reassurance to brighten our paths.  We’re never alone; He’s got it under control.

My Lord, help me to know Your voice and not be deceived by any other.  Help guard my heart from the influences of this world and those around me.  Help me to view all thoughts and decisions through Your lens.  Amen

The Furry Cure

The Lord will not leave you or forsake you." ~ Deuteronomy 31:8

As constant as the crashing waves against a rocky shore, so the emptiness in her heart lurked.  Jan prepared a cup of tea, wondering how she’d get through another gloomy day, when Randy’s picture toppled from the mantle.  Again!

Ever since her husband died two years earlier, that pewter-framed photo of them atop Pike’s Peak kept falling.  Perhaps it was just the wishful thinking of a lonely widow, but she still felt his presence in this place?

Jan picked up the frame and placed it back where it belonged.  “If only he were still here,” she wished, needing him now more than ever.  These had been the saddest two years of her life; not how they’d pictured their golden years.

After Randy retired from the Navy, they bought a small Tennessee farmhouse on 65 acres.  A country boy who loved both biscuits with gravy and Hank Williams, he couldn’t wait to fulfill a lifelong dream of raising and training hunting dogs.  Her idea of a pet was more compact – nothing specific, just a teddy-bear canine, one small enough to fit in the arms of a child.

But some months after they’d moved in, Randy shared awful news: “Doc says I need a transplant.”  Like many soldiers who’d served in Vietnam, Randy’s exposure to Agent Orange had destroyed his liver.  They waited eight months for a donor match.

A successful transplant would be short-lived when a blood clot ended his life two weeks later.

Their farmhouse, which had once been so lively and filled with dreams, now sat eerily quiet.  No one to greet her when she came home from work; no one to sit with on the front porch.

Jan stared out the window at rain falling heavier now.  She was about to head back to the kitchen when she noticed something small and furry scampering towards the house.

Grabbing her raincoat, Jan dashed outside.  The animal darted back into the woods.  She calmly knelt … and waited.  Soon the little dog came closer to her outstretched hand and, after a few sniffs, offered a lick.  "Kisses ... why ... thank you!"

It was love at first sight for the adorable little tail-wagger.  What was he doing here?  More importantly, how had he survived in woods full of coyotes?

She carried him inside and dried him off.  He made himself at home, curling right up on her lap.

She asked around town and posted his photo online.   Nobody responded; no one came looking for him.   He was hers to keep.  She swore he cracked a puppy-smile when she played Hank Williams, so you probably guessed what she named him.

He never left her side.  Just as devoted as the One who’d sent him.

Dear God, sometimes life gets me down; I find it hard to see things to be thankful for.  Open my eyes to see the gifts You’ve blessed me with.  And thank You for bringing hope even through the toughest of times.  Amen