Don't believe that guy....

“Is this your first?” the guy behind the lunch counter asked me. 

 “No,” I said with a warm smile, remembering the way Sam had to tell me goodbye 3 times before I left for my glucose test at the doctor’s office. 

“This is my third.” I felt kind of lost without the other 2 with me. Just as I was pondering how strangely quiet it was, the guy’s response came in loud and clear. 

 “You aren’t having anymore are you?” he asked with contempt and a look that said everything. 

 “You never know,” was my I-am-not-telling-a-stranger-my-business reply. My answer was cheerful but my smile had grown sticky and I was struggling to keep it there. 

 Then the guy, who had been precariously close to the line, made an all out dash, as he said, “Well, you know you can prevent that.” 

 Stunned and speechless, all I could manage was, “Well, if the Lord wants you to have another one, you will no matter what.” 

As I walked away, hovering between anger, embarrassment, and sadness at his audacity, I saw them coming in the distance, those clouds of doubt and fear. I knew what he was saying…. “Children- They aren’t worth it. They aren’t worth the time, the money, the energy, the career you could have had doing something ‘important.’ You are wasting your life.” 

The thoughts of how difficult my pregnancy had been filled my mind, followed quickly by how exhausted I had been with 2 preschoolers at home and how I was trying to prepare to home school next year. The gathering clouds grew heavier than ever with doubt and fear. As I muddled through my thoughts, the clouds settled in darkly overhead. I tried to eat my lunch but my appetite was gone. 

I began to wonder if I could really do this, if it really was worth it. Then I heard it. It was the voice of David’s granddaddy from months earlier when we had announced we were expecting for the third time. 

In a quiet moment, just the two of us, he said, “You know, Katie, the Bible says that children are a gift from the Lord. This child is a gift.” It was a sincere, intentional word. I know because he had repeated this to me with every pregnancy, but, for some reason, this time it meant more. I had quietly stuck his words down deep in the pocket of my heart not knowing how badly I would need them that day. 

Granddaddy had spoken the truth to me, the Word of Life, which will never pass away, even after this world and all it counts as important is nothing but dust. “Children are a gift from the Lord.” They are worth my time. They are worth my money. They are worth my energy. They ARE what is important. As I let the weight of these truths permeate my thoughts, faith-filled my heart and the fiery darts fell powerless to the ground. With the same power that calmed the storm at Jesus’ “Peace! Be Still!” these truths dispersed that heavy darkness from my mind and the light of the truth shown clearly again. 

 Just the other day I was talking with a new stay-at-home mom. “I need to know how you do it….this stay-at-home mom thing. How do you deal with still wanting people’s respect when they think what you do doesn’t matter?” An honest, loaded question that I think every stay-at-home mom has wrestled with at some point. In the moment, we were both busy with our kids so that there was no time for an answer, besides this was one I knew I would need to ponder. 

I have thought a great deal about what she said and decided that this is one of the first things I would say: 

Don’t believe that guy. Do not believe that guy. Pay no attention to the guy behind the counter. 

Believe the Truth. Your children are a gift. What you do all day is worth it. Believe that, my friend. 

Let those dark, doubtful clouds above you be blown away in the wake of the reality of these truths from God’s word and bask in the sun of His approval. His approval of how you are expending your time, your energy, your intelligence, your degree, and your creativity on your children, who are precious in His sight.

Maybe you, like my friend and I, have wrestled with this same question. Perhaps you are now. Maybe you are new to this or it is just a difficult season of mothering. My prayer for all of us is that we would take these truths and stick them in our pocket. 

And when the world is screaming loudly to us, we would hear granddaddy’s voice whispering to us the truth in his strong, wise voice “Don’t you go believe’n’ that guy…. Your children are a gift.”

For when you don't think you live up to the Mother's Day card....

"She wants something from me that I don't have."  


I spoke the words to my husband as I melted into tears. They dripped onto the pink blanket holding my first born, only days old. I wiped my tears away and held her closer, but it didn't change my certainty that I couldn't do this mom thing. 
 Those words summed up everything I felt about being a mom: Inadequate, unable, weak. In that moment I was an inconsolable, emotional mess as postpartum hormones and lack of sleep reduced me to a puddle. The only thing I could see in my reflection was my incredible lack, my absolute inability. 


But I was wrong. 


 My husband, who always seems to know just the right thing to say (though he'll totally deny it), said ever so wisely, "She just wants you."

That thought scared me even more. Me? No, not with my imperfections and failings. Then I was certain I would fail....  


Yet it was true. 


Even now she just wants me, my love, my attention. I can tell by the "Mom, watch this!" Or the "Can I tell you about my day?" as she recounts each moment for a second time through. In this world of perfectly portrayed Pinterest moms, it's easy to hear my inadequacy whispered to me again.  Yet I have seen the simple gift of watching, listening, loving and being with her is enough. 
Dear sweet mom, your child just wants you. 
I wish I could say I have always given myself unselfishly. At times I have given what little I do have begrudgingly and fearfully. Begrudging my lack of sleep, time, or energy, I hold back. Or, with paralyzing fear, I withhold my heart knowing one day she will realize I am not the best mom in the world. In those moments, I have to remember that there is no greater love than when one lays down his life and that his grace is made perfect in weakness. He gives me all that I need for life and godliness and reminds me of his own love for me that is utterly sacrificial and freely given without condition. What little I do have is meant to be given and poured out in love and service to those the Lord has placed in my life even if there is no return or reward. 


In my selfish moments, she has joyfully accepted and forgiven my selfishness without a second thought. I have learned so much watching her love me. (She totally gets it from her daddy.) 


But I was also right. She does want something I don't have, that I can't give her.



One day in the not too distant future she will wake up to the fact that I am not the greatest mom ever. That I am finite and full of imperfections. That I can't give her or be everything that she needs.... because she was made for something more.



She was made for God. She needs so much more than I can give her. Instead of being weighed down by fear of that moment, I hope when it comes to gloriously point her to the One this life is all about. 




I can't fill her up but I know who can. 




I know the fountain of living water that never runs dry. I know where to lead her because I have been before and I know the way, as I go daily, hourly, moment by moment... to the Lord.

To our Creator. To our Savior. 


Because I can't give her all that she needs, but that's ok because HE can.



Perhaps this Mother's Day you are quite certain your children want something from you that you don't have. So I'll say this.

You are totally wrong. And you are totally right. 


As you go through this day, I pray you find yourself giving all that you have to your sweet babies without selfishness or fear. And, when you find yourself to not be enough, that you will point them to HIM who hung the stars and formed the oceans because He is enough and that is really all that matters. 

Helplessness, Hospitals and the Glorious Transplant

Helpless. That is the word that comes to mind when I think of the days I spent next to my mother’s bedside at the Mayo Clinic this time two years ago.

I remember sitting there with my mom holding her hand, watching the monitors, and listening to the hum of the machines and oxygen because her own lungs could no longer keep her alive. I recounted the day only weeks before when we were told that she would need a double lung transplant to live. It was her only hope.  Then as her health rapidly deteriorated she was put in the hospital and we waited.

There was nothing to do but wait.

We waited for the perfect set of lungs to come available because not just any would do. They had to be perfect: perfectly healthy, her perfect blood type, the perfect size for her frail body, and within just a few hours of the hospital because time was of the essence.

The roller coaster of emotions of those waiting for a transplant and their families is enough to send anyone into a tailspin. Do you grieve because these are your last days with your loved one? Do you remain hopeful each time the doctor walks in that they will bring good news that a donor has been found? And how do you even bear the thought of the donor and their family? I wondered a lot about who they might be, if they themselves were a mother or a daughter, and how horrible the loss would be for that family. What a gift they would be giving to our family, a gift of life that could never be repaid.

As much as we as her family loved her, there was nothing we could do.

As amazing as the doctors, nurses, and hospital were, there was nothing they could do.

As much as my mom desperately wanted to live, there was nothing she could do.

We were helpless. We needed a transplant. We were totally dependent on a lung donor coming available.

She needed healthy lungs for her diseased ones, she needed the perfect match. And, as horrible and inexplicable as it was, she needed someone to lose their life so that she could gain hers.

In the middle of that horrible reality, I was reminded that this is how the gospel described me, how helpless and desperate I am without Jesus. The beauty of the gospel stood steady in the midst of it all as I recalled this verse, “For while we were still helpless at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly.”

She was helpless. We in our sins are helpless and cannot save ourselves.

She only had sick, diseased lungs. We have sick, sinful hearts.

She needed new, perfect lungs to save her. We need a new heart and perfect righteousness from Jesus to make us right with God.

She needed a perfect match. We need Jesus who became like us so he could die in our place.

She needed someone close by. We need Jesus who left the glories of heaven to not only come near to us but to bring us near to our God.

Someone would have to die so that she could live. Someone has to die to pay for our sins and Jesus has done that, taking our place and giving us his righteousness so that we could live eternally.

As wonderful and exciting and joyful as it would have been if my mother had been given new lungs in this life, it fails to compare to the glorious realities of the gospel.

With the gospel there is no waiting in a hospital room fighting for your life, helpless and just praying that you might live.

No. We have a ready Savior- Jesus has paid it all and is ever ready to save those who call out to Him in faith.

With the gospel, there is no anonymous donor whose accidental death brings life.

No. We have a willing, loving, sacrificial Savior. Jesus went to the cross willingly and, with love in his heart and a mission in his mind, saved us to the uttermost.

With the gospel, there is no 5-year life expectancy that comes with a lung transplant.

No, no, no. We are given ETERNAL life in our Savior who loves us more than we will ever know.

That call never came for my mom, and two years ago today she stepped into eternity. This day would overwhelm me were it not for the transplant that happened almost a year and a half before her diagnosis.

One day she called me and said, “I want you to know that if I ever die that I am in heaven.” After many talks over the years with her, I had been unsure of where her faith lay. With a deep breath, I began to prayerfully walk through the gospel with her again- how we are all sinners who need Jesus to die for our sins in our place so that we can be forgiven and live eternally in heaven. In the end, there were no disputes or assertions of how she was a good person as before, she simply said I believe that. And a transplant happened that day that nothing on earth could ever undo, no disease or death could ever touch. 

My mom was a quiet person and, though I saw her begin to openly talk about the Lord I am not sure that she ever shared this with many people. So today I tell you her story as a way of honoring her and remembering her. I am certain she would proclaim it from the rooftops herself were it possible.

If you do not know the Lord, I pray that He would open your eyes to how helpless you are in your sin. But also I pray that he would show you Himself. That He is the perfect, loving Savior who came and laid down his life to save you in your helplessness because you cannot save yourself. Won’t you trust him today and ask him to do that?

Kindergarten, College and the Keeper

I am a pool hawk.

Of course, going to the pool with multiple small children will do that to you. 

During our vacation this summer, I was alone with three of them at the pool. After a few days in the water, the older ones were getting more comfortable in the pool and I had relaxed… almost.  I sat on the side of the pool blowing up a float for my 2-year-old while he played in the shallow area. It was only a few feet deep so my focus was on the older two as they swam. 

As the float got bigger, I would look up every few minutes to make sure everyone was still up and kicking. Everything was fine until I realized I could not see my 2 year old. My heart was racing as I took two huge mama leaps to where he had been playing and found him flailing in the few feet of water unable to get his footing. I pulled him quickly to his feet and made sure he was ok. 

He had fallen behind a big boat in the toddler area of the pool, out of the view of the lifeguard. My mind was filled with questions. What if I had not been there? What if I had not seen him right away?

Believing upon what is true, I was just thankful that I had been there and tried not to think about what might have happened.

Only a few days after we came home, a knock on the door from a neighbor reminded me that I cannot depend upon myself alone to protect my children. My trust ultimately must be in the Lord. Our neighbor's daughter was practicing her archery when a stray arrow had shot into the yard where my children were playing only minutes earlier. A short summer rain shower had hurried them inside. They were not out there as the arrow spanned the length of our yard and landed 2 inches deep in our wooden fence. Our neighbors were upset and knew what could have happened, promising to move the target. I however was taken aback and remembered I simply cannot be everywhere to protect my children. 

But my God, he never sleeps or slumbers. 

He is always there watching over them, keeping them.

Immediately my mind was filled with Psalm 121. I had spent some time studying it recently as I wrote about the Lord being our helper from the first few verses. But I remembered the rest of the Psalm and that the word “keep,” translated keep, protect and guard, is repeated 6 times. 

It was just what I needed to remember as I fought off the motherly desire to keep my kids in our house forever and ever. AMEN. And AMEN.

He is watching over me and keeping me. He is watching over them and keeping them.

This is a tough week for a lot of mamas, as with joy and sadness, many of our little babies are not babies anymore. They let go of our hands and walk out into the world.

They head off by themselves for their first golf lesson, no longer timid and afraid.

They head off to kindergarten, excited about a new chapter of their lives. 

They head off to college, no longer under your watchful love and care.

They get married and move away, starting a new family. 

They follow the Lord’s call on their lives to move around the world for the sake of the gospel.

With mixed emotions, we mamas sit by and watch them walk away. We are so proud and so excited for them, and yet we want to pull them back and keep them forever under our wings. 

I won’t pretend these moments are easy for any of us, but I do hope in the midst of them that Psalm 121 rings in your heart. For years this Psalm, called the Traveler's Song by the Scottish, was sung and prayed as many departed on long journeys. 

As our children travel off, whether down the road, to another state or across the world, I pray these promises of God's keeping would sink deep into your heart and hold you tight as you let go.

Psalm 121

I will lift my eyes to the mountains, from where shall my help come?

My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber.

Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber or sleep.

The Lord is your keeper; The Lord is your shade on your right hand.

The sun will not smite you by day, nor the moon by night.

The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul.

He will guard your going out and coming in from this time forth and forever.

There is so much to say about this Psalm but Charles Spurgeon says it best:

"What a glorious title is in the Hebrew -- "The keeper of Israel," and how delightful to think that no form of unconsciousness ever steals over him, neither the deep slumber nor the lighter sleep. He will never suffer the house to be broken up by the silent thief; he is ever on the watch, and speedily perceives every intruder…. The word "keepeth" is also full of meaning: he keeps us as a rich man keeps his treasures, as a captain keeps a city with a garrison, as a royal guard keeps his monarch's head…. Happy are the pilgrims to whom this psalm is a safe conduct; they may journey all the way to the celestial city without fear." (The Treasury of David Psalm 121:4)

So as our little children(and the not so little ones) let go and walk wherever the Lord may lead them, let us again entrust them to the Lord as we dwell upon this Psalm and the One who keeps them.

Crying, Craving and the Only Thing that Satisfies

It was after midnight, and she had been crying for almost an hour.

My husband squeezed my hand as he sensed my frustration was growing. I squeezed back. It was a Sunday night, and after a long day of preaching and shepherding, I knew he was exhausted, too.

I had tried everything: picking her up, putting her back down, changing her diaper, rubbing her back, giving her medicine, repeating again and again to no avail until I finally gave up and got back in the bed. If she were going to cry no matter what I did, I was at least going to rest my tired body for a few minutes.

I wracked my brain…. She had been sleeping through the night for months now. What could be the problem? 

I mentally went through the checklist again, the one that all mommas have filed away when their child is wailing and they have no idea why.

She was sleeping in a pack and play in our room because we had family visiting for the weekend. Maybe it was just unfamiliar to her, but it had not bothered her the night before….

Perhaps she was teething again. She had finally gotten a new tooth that had been waking her up at night. I had given her a dose of Tylenol just in case 30 minutes ago though, and it should have kicked in by now. No, that wasn’t it…. 

Maybe she was overtired. She had missed a nap the last two days. Good sleep begets good sleep, they say…  But who knows at this point, I thought. 

Dear Lord, please let her go to sleep. 

I rolled over and put the pillow over my head. “Well, at least I know she can’t be hungry,” I thought.

I sat straight up in bed and bemoaned to myself, “OH, NO.  I couldn’t have.” 

But I HAD.

I turned to my husband, not even bothering to whisper (because clearly what was the point?), “I know why she’s crying. She’s hungry.”

“Hungry? Why would she be hungry?” he asked.

With a sigh of relief that I knew what was wrong and regret that it was my own doing, I answered, “Because I forgot to feed her before I put her to bed.”

In the hustle and bustle of getting dinner ready after church that evening, I had forgotten to feed her. It had not even crossed my mind. And her sweet, easy-going personality went right along with it. She went to bed like all was well only to be awakened when her poor tummy started rumbling, and she could not sleep any longer.

I rolled out of bed to feed her. Before long she and I were snuggled together. She was content and satisfied. Exhausted from her long bout of tears, her sweet eyes looked up at me with the most precious of thanks after her cries had finally been answered.

As I sat there savoring my little one, I saw my Bible sitting on the nightstand. I remembered the verse from scripture, “Like newborn babes, CRAVE the pure milk of the word.” 

 I would love to say that verse described my own heart towards the Word that night, but the truth is that it had been weeks since I had picked it up and read it on my own. Midnight calls from sick children, a teething baby needing constant comfort, and a cluttered home with a too-busy schedule had made choosing another hour of sleep or my to-do list over time in the Word seem like the easy and excusable choice.

The neglect had taken its toll on me, but I had explained my uneasy soul away with other things. Surely I was just tired or I was catching what the kids had or it was this new season of life or the fact that I felt so disorganized. Maybe all I needed was to get a good nap, take another vitamin C, and finally get my house organized. Then my soul would be quieted. 

None of it worked. But being hungry for God’s word never crossed my mind.

Yet it is the only thing that would satisfy... 

I had been ok at the beginning, or so I thought, but slowly my heart had fallen into weakness and depression. As it did, the foolishness of sin was becoming more and more commonplace in my life. But it wasn’t because I was physically tired, sick, or unsettled, it was because I was hungry.
 
Mine was not simply a heart that was not getting what it was craving. No, I was starving.   

I could sense my restless soul crying out for the one thing I so desperately needed: the Word of God described so vividly in Psalm 19.

I was the weak heart that needed to be revived. 

I was the despondent heart that needed to rejoice. 

I was the foolish heart that needed to be made wise.

And nothing else would do. I had tried all of those other things not realizing that true rest for my soul would not come from more sleep, a healthy body, or a well-planned life and home. True rest can only be found in the Lord and abiding in His Word. 

You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.~ St. Augustine of Hippo


Perhaps it has been a long time since you have craved the Word of God with the same intensity of my daughter crying out in the midnight. May the Lord so work in your heart that you remember when you once did and you would sing the psalmists.

Behold, I long for Your precepts; Revive me through Your righteousness. Psalm 119:40

I opened my mouth wide and panted, For I longed for Your commandments. Psalm 119:131

 I rejoice in your word like one who discovers a great treasure. Psalm 119:162

Or perhaps your our own starving heart has been described here, and it has been much too long since you have picked up the Word. You have tried to explain your restless soul by the circumstances of life, but you know what your real need is. 

I implore you not to try to roll over and drown out the cries of your heart this day because feasting on the Word of God is the only thing that will satisfy you. 

No matter where you find yourself, I invite you to join me in meditating today on the glories of His Word seen in Psalm 19.

"The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart,
The law of the LORD is perfect, restoring the soul;
The testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple.
The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever.
The judgments of the Lord are true, they are righteous altogether.
They are more desirable that gold, yes than much fine gold, Sweeter also than honey and the drippings of honeycomb.
Moreover, by them Your servant is warned; In keeping them there is great reward."

I am praying for you, dear friend, as we both follow hard after God and seek him through his Word. May we feast on His Word for the rest and the reward we will find there is the greatest of treasures.

If you don't know where to start, the book of John is an amazing book, even if you have read it before. I challenge you, as I once was, to read the whole book through 5 times. It took me over 3 months, but there were new treasures ready to be mined each time. Why not start there?

If your hungry soul has been encouraged, I would love to hear from you and pray for you as you delve back into God's Word. Just leave a comment below. I would be honored to be a part of what the Lord is doing in your life!

 Download printable here.

Rain, Reese's and Reminding

The rain poured with no sign of letting up. 

As I glanced down at the grocery bags in my hand, I was thankful that my husband had encouraged me to do my errands solo. People scurried through the parking lot while dodging the puddles, and I decided to make a dash for it.

I climbed in our van only slightly soaked and immediately reached for the bag, searching for one thing- Reese’s peanut butter cup. 

Perhaps my craving was prompted by the thought of my husband's impending mission trip to Africa for 2 weeks while I stayed home alone with our four kids (6 and under). I had invested in quite a stash for those moments when I might need to hide in the closet in my bedroom.

 Or perhaps it was that bright orange commercial. You know the one: peanut butter and chocolate- an unforgettable combination. Only, by the number of times I had seen the same commercial, I was not convinced that they believed it was REALLY unforgettable since they were determined to keep reminding me of it over and over again.

With the rain steadily tapping on the window, I looked at the clock.  I still had some time before naps would be over, and I needed to be home to start dinner. I had hoped for a comfy chair in the local coffee shop, but this would have to do and at least it was quiet. Getting settled comfortably in my seat with my unforgettable chocolatey peanut butter treat, I found the place where I left off in the book I was reading:

“Advertisers repeat their message… They know it will take more than one exposure for their message to be absorbed. If it didn’t need repetition, they would create quick and inexpensive ads that aired only once…. The world gets it! Shaping ideas requires long term interaction with long-range goals and 100 percent saturation.

It’s the same message for every generation- but slickly tailored to the hot buttons of each. The underlying message is ME! I deserve… I want… I will be happy if… I can’t live without… These messengers tell us and our children how to think about life, themselves, other people, and God.”

I reread it and thought about how the world does not get tired of bombarding me or my children with their message about everything- from how to think and live to the goodness of chocolate. I had to laugh a little at that truth as I finished off the last of my peanut butter cup. 

But then with sadness and regret, I recounted the tired, frustrated words that came from my lips earlier that day. The ones that had prompted my husband to encourage me to leave the kids home and take some time to myself.

 “How many times have I told you…”

 “I am not going to tell you again….”

“You should know this by now. I have told you a THOUSAND times…”

How I had needed to read those words. Because the world… it doesn’t get tired. 

Patiently, quietly, confidently, it repeats its message with one purpose: long term interaction with long-range goals and 100 percent saturation.

But what about me? I get tired of repeating myself. I think once should be enough for my children to understand that they should put others first, that they should love their brother or sister as they love themselves, that they should put. their. shoes. where. they. BELONG.

That they should love the Lord their God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength and do all things for his glory.

But I really should know better than that. The Apostle Paul did. He knew that I needed to be reminded over and over of the truth of the gospel, of what honors the Lord.

“Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord. To write the same things again is no trouble to me, and it is a safeguard for you.”Philippians 3:1

“For this reason I have sent to you Timothy, who is my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, and he will remind you of my ways which are in Christ, just as I teach everywhere in every church.” 1 Corinthians 4:17

Oh, that the Lord would give me grace for every moment and endurance that is lasting so that I might remind my children of the ways that are in Christ.

Because if I don’t, there is an ever-ready teacher waiting to direct them. One that will be happy to tell them again and again with great patience. And its message is much easier and more enticing, but it is a way that leads to death.

Dear friend, have you had those moments? My prayer for us both is that we would be diligent in the ministry the Lord has given us like Timothy to remind our children… and that like Paul it would be no trouble to us.

Just like the rain that falls steadily until the ground is saturated, may we daily, hourly, by the minute water the implanted seed of God's word in the hearts of our children as we trust him to bring forth the growth. Day after day after day until the Lord returns, may we be found faithful. May we be found tirelessly reminding our children {and ourselves} of Christ and his ways.

 

Download printable here.

Quote from Instructing A Child's Heart by Tedd and Margy Tripp

My Good Thing....

Good things. Martha Stewart made them famous, those good things that make life special, more enjoyable. 

Around the holidays we find ourselves wanting to fill our homes and our lives with lots and lots of good things- good recipes, good decorations, good gifts. But it does not take long, for me at least, before those good things have taken over. 

In the busyness of making holiday plans or finding that perfect gift or heading out to the third Christmas party of the season, we slowly begin to miss it. We begin to miss the best thing.

And you know how it so often ends… plans frustrated, casseroles burnt, toys out of stock, stomach viruses rampant (“Please, Lord, no,” we all silently pray.) 

In the middle of all the clamor and craziness of this season, we see this quiet declaration in scripture: “The nearness of God is my good.”

Oh, that we would remember, in the midst of all these fading, temporal, good things, that there is a lasting, enduring best thing. And it is that God has come near.

The exceedingly better “good thing” of the fact that Jesus, perfectly holy, who was living in perfect holiness and surrounded by praise, humbled Himself and came near to us. And in doing so He brought us, who were far off, near to God. By being obedient in our place and giving His life for ours, He has brought us so close to Him that scripture says we are seated with Him in the heavenlies. 

Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? As Christians, our endless good thing is that we have been brought near to our God as His children through His son Jesus. And it is better than the best holiday menu, the most creative decorations, the most festive Christmas party, and the latest and the greatest gadget of a gift.

Perhaps this truth has been driven deeper into my heart this year as I anticipate the Christmas season… the goodness of his nearness. Because, in this first Christmas without my mom, I am sure there will be more tears than joy, more sadness than laughter, and frankly I need something more than what this world’s good things have to offer. 

But in the moments of greatest sadness and feelings of loneliness, the Lord has given this great promise. He is close to those who are brokenhearted. And I am finding the sweetness of this ironic reality: when I feel like He is the farthest away, He has promised that He is closest.

So this Christmas I am most thankful for the things that point me to Jesus, to the reality of his nearness. In the moments all I seem to see is grief, they are ever pointing me to Him who is close and near. 

As you go about your search for good things this Christmas, I hope this excerpt from Noel Piper’s book, Treasuring God in Our Traditions will be an encouragement for you, wherever you find yourself this holiday season. This is her response to a mother, whose child almost died and who was struggling with the “hoopla” of Christmas:

"It’s not at all surprising that Christmas is hard for you this year. The reason for Christmas is the same as it ever was, and nothing is more essential to our lives than the Incarnation. What’s different for you, I expect, is that the traditions we wrap around December 25 to make it different from other days, those traditions and activities are as nothing to you this year. In fact, the thought of them probably weigh like a lump of lead in your belly. So what? Trees are nothing. Feasts are nothing. Lights are nothing. Music is nothing.

Only Christ matters. He is the only reason that you can be on any sort of journey with God, that you can have anything at all to do with God. Only Jesus matters. Hold onto that….

One time I told someone in hard times, “Just hang in there.” But she corrected me, “I’m not just hanging in there. I’m trying to hang on to Jesus.”

So please just keep hanging on to Jesus."

Sometimes, when things are going well, we might too easily forget that we have only one sure, immovable, dependable strength- Jesus, who was a baby once and is always and forever God. That is what holds us and keeps us whether or not we can carry out traditions. May our decorations, gifts, and festivities-or lack of them- never block our view of him but always point us to him.

I am praying for each of us, that every good thing this Christmas season points to the one ultimate good thing: that He is near to us.