The Fellowship of the Burning Heart

Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm;

for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.

It burns like a blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away.

If one were to [offer] all the wealth of one's house for love,

it would be utterly scorned.

Song of Songs 8:6-7

Forerunners. A word overflowing with meaning and emotion and memory. My heart was stirred and filled with the idea when I first heard it. Preparing a people for the coming of the Lord in the spirit of Elijah…what a mission! How could I not say “yes”? Then twenty-five years went by. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s wondered at times if God didn’t pull a little joke on me. I’m sixty years old, for crying out loud! I had come to the conclusion that the call had passed me by. Yet in all these years I never once heard that God had rescinded my draft notice.

Lately He has been reminding me of my long-ago commitment. I’ve had a strong sense that God is calling up the troops—putting us on active duty as it were. I have to confess that my first response was disappointment. If only this had happened twenty years ago, I thought, I could have participated! Then He showed me that I have been one of many 'sleeper cells,' scattered all over the world; waiting for the day He would activate us. Waiting for the role custom-made for us. We are experienced...seasoned by the long battle campaign that is life. We've gone through life’s grinder and come out the other side still walking with God. Our scars are badges of honor, marking us as veterans in the end-times army. 

His call is insistently militant, but it is the counter-cultural, revolutionary militancy of brokenness and humility; of patience and waiting; of loving Him and loving others in a sacrificial way; of being faithful to the end in a world grown selfish, shallow and fickle. It is the call of the Lover to the Beloved; the militancy of the love-sick. This call does not depend upon youth and vigor—only willingness. And I began to feel the excitement of the call, once again.

Remember what it was like? When He asked for forerunners and your heart burned with longing for Him? When your 'yes' was given...without real understanding... just the 'yes' of a love-sick heart. When all you longed for was to be in His presence; to give yourself more fully; to love and worship Him with all your being, confident that you were unconditionally loved. When you would have done anything you thought He wanted, just to be near Him. 

It's time to arise and strengthen ourselves in the Lord. Time to remind one another that we aren’t finished yet. Time to encourage and exhort one another. A time to lift our eyes to Jesus; look above and beyond our struggles and see, really see, His beauty, His all-sufficiency. A time to remember first love and make Jesus our everything; to drink deeply of the life-giving nourishment found in Him in order that we may receive strength to finish our race. He's calling us to come away and be with Him. Answer the call, forerunner. The call to the fellowship of the burning heart. It is time to reenlist. 

No one serving as a soldier gets entangled in civilian affairs,

but rather tries to please his commanding officer.

II Timothy 2:4

Allen Gewalten zum trotz, sich erhalten.

Despite all the powers, maintain yourself.

A Noble Treason is the true story of Sophie Scholl and a small group of like-minded friends and family who protested the Nazi onslaught against decency inside Germany during WWII. It's an insightful look into what life was like for average German citizens in the 30's and 40's, as well as a warning and encouragement to us today. The quote above is from Goethe and was a well-known saying at that time. It means maintain yourself; remember who you are; steady on. Keep your character when all those around you do not. Stand against the flow. Christians could add, cling to and focus on Jesus, to avoid being overwhelmed and overcome by the world. It's been a drum beating strong in my soul all week, this idea that I must stay the course; I must remember and remain who I am, even in the midst of powerful cultural forces seeking to distort me into someone else.  

The quote was something the Scholl family routinely invoked when pressure and stress threatened to become overwhelming. Germany in the 30's was tightly controlled. The only personal expression permitted was that which supported the National Socialist agenda. It was political correctness on steroids...where political correctness will ultimately run when unrestrained. It was heartening to learn that there were those in Germany who fought to stay true to the standards of decency they knew to be right. Regular people who tried to make a difference in any way they could, despite the constraints the German government placed upon its citizens. It became a society of betrayers and betrayed as the government spied on, jailed and executed many--mostly for the crime of not thinking or speaking as the Nazis said they should. It was a very dark time; Sophie and her brother Hans sought refuge from the horrors they witnessed and the stifling control under which they lived. They found light and strength and comfort in Christianity. God became the only constant upon which they could rely; a refuge of beauty from the ugliness of oppression and war.

Ours is a culture transforming from Judeo-Christian values into what we should expect when ethics vary according to situation and political correctness and values-neutral instruction have taught several generations that there is no such thing as objective right or wrong. We are reaping what we've sown, as every man does what is right in his own eyes. The upcoming election jangles discordantly. Like a rhythm out of sync or a wrong note played in a familiar song. It's uncomfortable watching those who wish to lead us resort to childish name calling—and worse—in pursuit of a political win. But the election itself is not the problem, it is only another symptom of a society growing seriously ill.

It has been instructive that the Republican party expects it is owed my vote; as if it is my life's calling to do my bit toward a conservative win. And of course I want to fulfill my civic responsibility and vote my conscience. But what a small, weak sort of calling that would be, when God calls me His family; an eternal being; a royal carrier of the glory of God; a world-changer; the Bride of Christ.   I Corinthians 6:2 says that one day we will judge the earth. We will rule and reign with Jesus. Makes this sad, tawdry political episode seem a bit beneath it all, doesn't it? 

We were made for so much more than arguing over which professional politician should be in charge. We've been told that fighting for the 'right' political outcome is imperative, but for Christians the real battle is to maintain our character, our salty flavor, our values—to continue "Christianing" in a world that screams there are more important things to worry about. But for us it must remain the vital, essential fight. To remain His, saved by grace; defined by love; branded by His Spirit, so utterly given to Jesus that we display His character no matter the powers arrayed against us. That we burn as torches in an increasingly darkening world.

This is a calling so beyond me and my small abilities that only He can fulfill it. Recurringly I find my heart, my inner man, shaken with fear over the storms darkening the far horizon. It seems to me that the cure for such thinking is to crowd it out by filling my heart and mind with Jesus. By meditating on His beauty; singing His praises and worshiping at His feet. By reading His words to me—hungrily, as a starving man sitting down to a long-anticipated meal. To maintain myself I need daily reminding that my identity and validation come from the highest source there is. So I remind myself that I belong to the King of all; that He remains serenely in control; that He is my anchor, my course and destination, and my portion forever.

Sophie and Hans Scholl and their friends made it their business to remind and exhort each other that God was sufficient—even in Nazi Germany. When they contended with martyrdom, they found Jesus fully adequate to the task. What an amazing encouragement! For He then must be sufficient for my trials and temptations as well. Those young people refused to let the culture of death all around them define who they were. For the joy set before them, they endured, they maintained themselves. Though they died more than 70 years ago, they continue to speak powerfully to us today.

Sophie Scholl said, "I will cling to the rope God has thrown me in Jesus Christ, even when my numb hands can no longer feel it." That is tremendously good advice to us in 2016. Our world has become vulgar, coarse, and violent, but Jesus is lovely and worthy. I must lean on, rely on, and desire Jesus as my absolute necessity. I must have Him, like air to breathe, like food to eat, like sanity in a crazy world. Our great King is high above and beyond it all and filled with light. Let Him fill you with hope and wonder at His goodness; His beauty; His intention to set things right. Let Him recenter you, reminding you of your identity, your destiny, and your calling. His beauty and goodness are greater than that which fills the world. By focusing on Him, we gain strength to maintain ourselves, against all powers. Maranatha!

For [you] are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, 

but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, 

against mighty powers in this dark world, 

and against evil spirits in the heavenly places. 

Ephesians 6:12 NLT

Very old wine

Dear ones, Followers of the Way, Fellow travelers in Christ:

I have watched the latest election cycle with a mixture of amazement, anxiety, anger and amusement. I have been voting for more than forty years and have never, ever in my life seen a cycle like this one. But my friends, as the rhetoric and hand-wringing rise to a crescendo, the time has come to encourage one another; to say some things that need saying.

First, we have to know that this election is about so much more than who will be elected President. I believe it is a test—not to pass or fail, but a test given to throw a light on what we're trusting. The world is in terror about the economy and our future, but this is not a time to let fear rule us. It’s time to take a breath…a step back and remember that God is in control, whether we end up with a distasteful Republican or a distasteful Democrat. Even if we elect the candidate we love, the problems America faces cannot be fixed through the political process. We must cry out for the remedy only God can bring, which is much bigger than a particular party proving victorious in November.

I don’t know that God is wanting to “Make America Great Again.” I don’t know that He is concerned about our comfort zone. I don’t know that He cares very much whether democracy triumphs or our pensions are intact. I do know that He cares deeply about the world…the world which only exists because of love. I know that a new heaven and a new earth are coming in which love reigns supreme…but first the old, broken world must go. I do know that God’s plan is to save as many people as will come to Him, before the end arrives. And the end will eventually arrive, because it would not be loving for God to allow evil to go on destroying forever.

Could it be that God is allowing this troubling election in order to shake us awake? To splash cold water on us? To break the soul-tie evangelical Christianity has forged with American politics? Is our allegiance to a political party, or to Democracy, or to the American economy, or to maintaining our comfortable lives? Or is our allegiance to God and His plan…even if that plan means the overturning of everything, everything with which we are familiar? What does “shaking everything that can be shaken” look like? That is not punishment; that is love and kindness. After all, what good does it do me to gain the whole world and lose my soul? If the American dream has become an idol to American Christians, what might God do about that?

Second, It is only a matter of time before our economy will suffer another calamity. That is not prophetic alarmism or negativity, it is a fact. Every rational adult knows that you cannot consistently spend more than you earn without ultimately facing a dire financial consequence. Yet we have an entire block of voters clamoring for free college, free healthcare, free whatever they can get. It matters not to them who will pay for it. And the other side is just as guilty…it has its own pet projects, its own play for power. America is going bankrupt, because no one on either side of the aisle has the moral fortitude to close the candy store. No one has the courage to tell the American people, “No.” No one, from the politicians in DC to the man on the street, wants to lose their goodies. So we continue down a political and bureaucratic path that cannot help but end in disaster for us all.

But friends, for Christians this is only a disaster in the ‘we like our lives to be as undisturbed as possible’ sort of way. For Christians, this is an exciting (though scary) chance to adjust our reliance from a government system to God’s provision. Zephaniah 1:12 speaks of a time in which men became complacent…so undisturbed that they grew dull and stopped believing that God was active in their daily lives either for good or evil. God compared them to old wine settled on its lees (dregs). Wine which sits too long becomes soured and bitter and undrinkable. To maintain its goodness, it must, from time to time, be poured off its lees and into a new container.

Could it be that God pouring us off our lees; preparing us for a new season for which we need new containers? It is very easy in a country that permits great freedom, to begin to trust and rely on that freedom, instead of God. It is easy to become comfortable and complacent and protective of our pleasant way of life, instead of accepting what God has for us. It is easy to expect that comfort to continue, instead of rejoicing whether in abundance or lack. It is easy to make plans for ourselves and ask God to rubber stamp them with His approval, forgetting that He may have something else in mind entirely. When we’re dependent on ourselves and regular paychecks and the rule of law it’s easy to see God more as a vague spiritual influence rather than a dynamic force, actively involved in every detail of our day to day lives. Like wine set aside to age, we have been settled, undisturbed for a long, long time.

If Jesus is my everything, that must affect my role in this election. A choice based on fear of ‘what ifs’ is an exercise in vain imagination. Especially if we worry that we might waste our vote by voting for someone “who can’t win.” If we glorify God with our choice in this election, leaving the consequences to Him, then our vote counts in the only court that matters.

I’ve been reading about a young girl named Sophie Scholl. Only 21 when she died, Sophie was a Christian, raised in the Nazi dominated society of Germany during WWII. She and her brother Hans and a small group of friends were troubled when they learned about the atrocities Hitler was committing. So they formed a group and, knowing the cost, created and mailed out protest pamphlets, which were passed from hand to hand at the University of Munich and many other places. Did their protest make a difference? Did the atrocities stop? Did everyone listen to them? No. Sophie, her brother and another friend were arrested and beheaded only five days later. Why did they bother? It seems such a waste. But not in God’s economy. They were seeds sown on our account, and her story has been reverberating in my soul for two solid days. Weeping, I ask that God raise up more like Sophie and Hans…that God make me like Sophie and Hans. So that when faced with any choice, I would not think of results or waste, but only what God is asking of me.

Whether or not my guy wins, It matters how I vote because it’s one more indicator that I am different than the world. It signals my choice to do what I believe is right, not what’s popular. It demonstrates my confidence that God is in charge, whether our government continues as before or becomes something else entirely. It declares that whether or not my rights are upheld, my finances increase or my faith is permitted by law, I stand with Jesus. If that stance brings me pain in this world, then I rejoice that I am in the company of a tremendous cloud of witnesses like Sophie, waving me on to the finish line.

So resist the whirlpool of fear and be encouraged! Run hard, my friends. Run hard after Jesus, our coming King. Focus on Him, knowing that He has conquered; trusting that He knows that we need shelter and clothes and food. Run hard, knowing that He is worthy, that He is better than all our worldly goods; better than Democracy; better than the American way. Whether this election ultimately makes you happy or horrified, God is on His throne and it will be well with those who call on His name. 

Jesus Is Not Nice

Jesus isn’t nice. Isn’t nice?

This seems not only insulting, but untrue as well. Isn’t being nice a Christian imperative? Wouldn’t more niceness fix the nasty turn our society has taken these days? Especially in this election cycle? Those of us born in the 50’s were often told as children, play nice; be nice; and the ever popular if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. When I was growing up, being nice meant being courteous to those around you—not being rude or obnoxious. It meant being kind. But kind and nice are not synonyms.

If you think I'm splitting hairs, consider it this way. Kindness is others-focused. Niceness is ultimately self-focused. To be nice is to conform to the opinions and behaviors of those around you in order to gain their acceptance or approval. Being nice is a means of not rocking the boat, or stirring the pot, or making a fuss, which little girls especially were warned against as not ladylike. Niceness is a means of going along to get along, which might seem like a means of maintaining a certain level of civility in public discourse. But not in today’s world in which we’re being forced into a false, politically-correct civility. Today disagreement means disagreeable; unity means uniform and harmony means homogeneous. So niceness has become a tyrant, demanding that we all believe the same things and say the same things or be considered not only rude but hateful. Our world has somehow become a place in which disagreeing with someone is to cause them harm.

And the kicker is, we often attempt to behave ‘nicely,’ because we believe Jesus would want us to—to be peacemakers and all that. But Jesus didn’t always play well with others; He said what needed saying. He was not concerned with His reputation. He wasn't politically correct. He wasn’t worried about what others thought of him. He wasn’t trying to make every group of people His buddies. His self-esteem wasn’t chained to being the most likeable guy in the room. In every situation with each person He said or did what was needed, because of love. That is kindness—being more concerned with what is best for the other person, even if it causes an uproar.

Niceness seeks to keep the peace, but it’s only, ever, an artificial peace. To keep it, I must always agree with everyone else. And it doesn’t work. No matter how hard I monitor my speech, I will inevitably encounter a situation in which I will be forced to say what I really think and that’s the end of my carefully structured public image as a ‘nice person’. And why have we decided that peace is the ultimate goal anyway? Jesus told us, "If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you." (John 15:19). If I'm hated for being a jerk, I am getting what I deserve, but if I'm hated for being kind as Jesus was kind, I am getting what I should expect as His disciple. . 

Jesus isn’t nice, He’s kind. Jesus criticized the Pharisees not because He hated them, but to provoke them to repentance (resulting in their good). He told the Samaritan woman to her face that He knew she was sleeping around—not nice—to bring the message of His coming kingdom to an entire village. He insulted another woman, saying that she was no better than a dog, not because He had a nasty streak, but to provoke her to faith and heal her daughter. He identified Peter with Satan, not to put him down, but to raise him up to be a leading disciple.

So are we supposed to stomp around pointing the finger at everyone, shouting the devil down and exposing everyone’s sins? Of course not! Jesus wasn’t scoring points or winning arguments. He caused momentary pain designed to lead to restoration and wholeness. He knew very well that everything He said would not be accepted and approved. He knew some would hate Him for what He believed and taught. And He willingly accepted the consequences of his interactions with others. That is kindness, and it will cost us just as it did Jesus. Niceness will not, cannot, protect us from dislike, criticism or persecution. Responding to others with kindness, regardless of the cost, will place us squarely in the tradition of our rabbi Jesus.*

The world doesn’t need us all to be nicer, it needs the kindness of Christ. Kindness that gives into each situation what is needed, regardless of personal cost. The world is dying of thirst. Kindness offers water at the risk of being condemned for claiming ours is the only clean source. Niceness would have us pretend to be thirsty too—at least in the public square. If we truly carry within us the well of Living Water, how can we keep silent while the world burns?

I can see how far I have to go. As old as I am, I still find myself doing the self-protection shuffle at times when I want to be liked (or left alone). When niceness demands, “Agree or shut up,” I am having to decide all over again whether I want to be liked and admired, or serve as Christ did, laying down my life for the people I encounter. I must confess that true kindness often eludes me. I am busy; I am distracted; I am focused on retaining the comforts of my own life. But if I avoid true kindness so I can continue my way, undisturbed, then I am not loving people as Jesus commands. 

I think I would amend what our mothers told us as children. How about —If you don't have anything nice to say, don't remain silent—say something kind instead.

*And lest we think that being forced to play nice is something that happens only when Christians are hanging out with unbelievers, consider that niceness can also be the buffer we place between ourselves and others in order to avoid intimacy. We might ‘make nice’ to keep the conversation at the surface, in order to minimize the possibility that we might have to shoulder someone’s burden or confess a weakness of our own. Selah :)

Our Coming King!

I have always enjoyed the season of Advent; those four weeks set apart to meditate on the first coming of Jesus. Advent means 'a coming into place, view or being,' so it is the perfect time to remember Jesus' arrival into human history as a tiny infant. Everyone loves babies; they are cute and cuddly. They are also non-threatening; they write no manifestos and make no speeches. They don't march or have causes. Examine any manger scene, the baby Jesus just lies there limply, without so much as a Pampers on—pretty harmless stuff. It is easy to reflect on and sing the praises of baby Jesus, asleep on the hay. Even the world—except those allergic to even the most innocuous religious expressions of Christmas—mostly tolerates baby Jesus. But Jesus hasn't been a baby for a long, long time. 

The man Jesus makes conclusive, polarizing statements about His identity. He directs how we should live—meddles even. He tips our sacred cows. His statements about Himself demand a response. He's politically incorrect and intolerant, with His claim of being 'the only way'. His promise that He will return, destroy all that hinders love and rule this planet as absolute, undisputed King places Him squarely at odds with the world and its systems. It's much less controversial to focus on His humble birth. Can't we just all get along? 

Of course there is absolutely nothing wrong with spending Advent reflecting on Jesus' first advent—we should express love and gratitude that He came to save us. But Jesus our Messiah is also our coming King. He asks His disciples to remember that He is coming back and that they be ready. Like a watchmen vigilantly guarding his house against burglars. Like a pregnant woman, excitedly waiting for the day her baby arrives. Like a Jewish bride in ancient times, eagerly waiting for the day her bridegroom completes his preparations and comes to take her from her father's house, into his own.

So it's good that I remind myself that He's coming again, especially at this time of the year when everything around me insists that celebrating Christmas is okay, as long as I keep it about gifts and parties and baby Jesus. Baby Jesus only. But King Jesus is the One returning, with fiery eyes and an implacable determination to return the world to what God intended from the beginning. A place where God may walk among us; where we may see Him face to face. A place of unhindered love and intimacy, where we creatures may finally and forever live with our Creator. A place of eternal glory. 

As 2015 draws to a close, I want every manger scene be a reminder, not just that Jesus humbled Himself by coming as a weak, human infant, but that He's coming again as all-powerful King. As I remember and honor Jesus' appearing, I am asking God to refresh my desire to watch for His reappearing. This beautiful, terrible, broken world is passing and will pass away. Soon and very soon we will see our King, our glorious Jesus, high and lifted up. His train will fill all the earth. Every eye will see Him, recognizing Him as King and God. What a privilege it is to see and know Him now. 

May this Advent reaffirm your trust that what He has promised He will do; renew your resistance to the pull of this world; and refocus your life on Jesus. May He shorten the time and strengthen the saints to walk out His love to others.  Merry Christmas. Maranatha! (Oh Lord, Come!) 

“[Jesus] who testifies to these things says,

‘Yes, I am coming soon.’

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.”

Revelation 21:20-21

A Sudden Change of Perspective

I have to confess that, with regard to the Syrian refugee crisis, I’ve been pretty much marching lock-step with the band of popular opinion. The idea of importing large numbers of anonymous Muslims of unknown intent into my country, let alone my state or neighborhood makes me a little anxious. It also makes me angry for a variety of reasons, which are too many to get into and have mostly to do with carnal irritation at our delusional government and potential inconvenience to my lifestyle (which is even more carnal).

But recently I experienced one of those sudden perspective shifts in which you instantly know something that you didn’t before. During a Sunday sermon a large animated map was projected on the wall, showing the movement of refugees into Europe (a still shot is below. See the animation at www.lucify.com/the-flow-towards-europe/). I recognized that the refugees were fleeing, not just Syria but the entire 10/40 window. And it was like God adjusted a tuning knob in my brain—suddenly the picture was crystal-clear and the sound distortion-free. Into my mind popped Matthew 24:14 “And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.”

For two thousand years the Church has worked industriously to take the gospel all over the world, as we were commissioned to do. But some places have remained out of reach. A large percent of the remaining unreached nations are in the 10/40 window. Those governments where Islam holds sway are closed to missionaries; preaching is forbidden; and conversion is often a death sentence. Fortunately, when Jesus spoke of 'all nations' He didn’t mean real estate, He meant people groups. That map shone a spotlight on our commission…since we can’t get to them, God’s sending them to us. It was a goose bump moment, as I instantly "knew in my knower" that God is using this massive migration as part of His plan that all nations hear the gospel. This means my response to the refugee crisis is not just my personal preference, it is also my response to God’s call on my life. I may not be called to leave my home and culture to risk my life in Muslim lands, but I am called to help people in my circle of influence…people who come to my land.

If the purpose of salvation is to give me a happy life and then get me into Heaven, then I am right to protect my life and my stuff from all comers, both foreign and domestic. But if I'm here to play my part in God's bigger plan—that changes things. I can get so caught up in my comfortable, safe American life that I can forget that the goal all history is moving toward is the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ. The last part of Matthew 24:14 is “…and then the end will come.” History will culminate in a glorious unveiling of God as God. All we now know will be swallowed up by the new and perfect and eternal. So my natural desire for peace and safety must not, cannot be of highest importance. Jesus said, “…whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.” Matthew 16:25.

Don't get me wrong. This does not mean that we shouldn’t screen those those entering our country--there are terror groups actively attempting to exploit America’s weaknesses in order to destroy us. But whether or not refugees pose me any particular threat is God's business, and I’m pretty sure that Christians are called to have a different response than the hysterics currently on display in the world.

God has a special place in His heart for the stranger, the poor and the dispossessed. I’m called to help the less fortunate and love the stranger and pray for my enemies. I don’t think I get to qualify that help by adding when it’s convenient; when it doesn’t cost me anything; or when it’s safe for me. Of course there is a line to discern here, for I am also called to protect and provide for my family. But I cannot base my refugee response on a desire to avoid danger. History shows that Christians who attempt to live their lives so as to avoid danger, fall into a different, more terrible danger. Read about Christians in 1930's Germany. The ones who saved their lives and their stuff by saying 'yes' to the Nazis by their silence. Both the Bible and church history confirm that from the early disciples all the way to the Christians being martyred around the world today, normative Christianity includes trouble. 

So I’m prayerfully examining my thoughts about the refugee situation. Though I remain a little nervous, I no longer see it as trouble heading my way, but my unconventional God at work. I'm asking Him to help me make room in my heart for what He's doing. I am reminding myself that my wonderful, glorious Father loves all people and wants them to hear the good news of His coming kingdom. If they need to come to America to hear it, then God's will be done. I confess I am still fighting to be happy about it. But then again, my cramped, Grinchy heart rebels at most of the Scripture that demands I die to self and serve others, so this is no surprise. 

It’s not as if we don’t know what Jesus thinks of all this. That pesky Sermon on the Mount makes it pretty clear that He expects us to love our enemies and pray for them; to give to those to ask us; to have a different, higher response than the world—though it pains my worldly little heart to admit it.

Maranatha!

Happy Thanksgiving!

This time of year, when Christmas commercials start shouting for my attention, I feel a little like I’m teetering on a precipice. Ahead is the whirlwind that is the Christmas season, threatening to suck me into non-stop cooking, shopping, wrapping, decorating, serving, baking, cleaning, hosting, traveling and sometimes difficult family interactions. All while schooling, discipling and at least maintaining the appearance I’m an adequate, effective homeschool Mom. It is almost a matter of routine for me to reach January first exhausted and depressed. But holidays aren’t supposed to be that way.

God filled the calendar year with regular opportunities to pause and celebrate; remembering all we’ve received and offer thanks to God. A heart of joy and contentment grows best in the soil of gratitude and thankfulness. It’s the enemy’s plan and the world’s expectation that we fall into holiday busyness and worry and spending too much. So before Thanksgiving, which should be a time of thanks-giving, I’m pressing pause (just for a minute!) to meditate on grace. God owes us nothing, yet has given us everything. All we have, from salvation to the bread on our tables, has come from the generous hand of God. Grace wiped away our sin; adopted us into the family of God; granted us relationship with our Creator and assured our eternal future—every bit of it an undeserved gift. If that doesn’t make me thankful, what would?

This year I’m throwing a barricade across the road that leads to post-holiday depression by reflecting on the tremendous blessings I already have. Since God has already given me everything that truly matters, perhaps it isn’t quite as important that my holiday look like a Hallmark special. Perhaps I can delete some of the ‘must do,’ ‘must have’ items on my list.  If you look at the biblical feasts, God intended that holidays refresh us by reminding us what is truly important. I recently heard the feasts distilled down to “They tried to kill us; God rescued us; let’s eat!” What else do we need?

Enter His gates with thanksgiving

and His courts with praise. 

Give thanks to Him, bless His name.

Psalm 100:4