Why Christmas?
Something about the crisp, festive air of the Christmas season brings out the poetic side of me. Each year, if the Lord so guides, I write a Advent themed poem and often have the great delight of delivering it to my flock on Christmas Eve. I’m thankful that, yet again this year, God filled me with a fresh zest for the thoughts, words, and message of Christ’s miraculous Incarnation. I present to you…
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End Your Search.
I had the immense joy of communicating God’s Word through dramatic monologue as one of the ancient Magi, written about in the Gospel of Matthew 2:1-12. You may watch the video. . .
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So I Weep.
I talked out loud to Jesus:
“Why do other people get to keep THEIR babies, Lord? Some of those people don’t even WANT to be pregnant. Why have I had to give not just one, but six back to you? I pray to be like Hannah, willing to do anything for a baby, even giving hers back to the temple as he grew older, yet again and again those dreams disappear? Why me Lord? Why my babies? It’s just not fair.” . . .
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Advent: Transforming Hope
“Busy, busy, busy.” This is the phrase I’m hearing from most everyone these days. Folks are busy with holiday parties at their workplace and with extended family. Christmas concerts at local schools and professional venues fill up the evenings.
And don’t forget all the shopping that “must get done!” …
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One Year Ago…
On this day, one year ago, my family and I had just returned home from a wonderful two-Sunday visit with Mayfair Bible Church. From our little homestead in North Carolina, we prayerfully and excitedly awaited the news of the coming Sunday’s congregational vote.
“Would I be called to serve as their Lead Pastor? What would the vote from the flock indicate?” we wondered.
So we waited, prayed, and…
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Discarding Fake Joy
Immediately, I was thankful for the many, many hours of Wee Kids Bible Songs in my parent’s old blue panel van. As the familiar tune for this verse rattled around in my head, I spouted off the exclamatory sentence lickety-split. The teacher happily gave me a golden star for my memory chart and this little line has been forever sealed in my mind. But therein lies the danger. . . .
