Here’s the sad litany. Consider it a driving lesson in what NOT to do.

Incident #1: Several years ago I was cruising a Carl’s Junior parking lot, when in full view of patrons eating their unhappy fries, I cheerfully backed into a parked car that, of course, should never have been there! Next thing I know, a couple rushed out of the building, making a beeline straight for me. I groaned. The whole place must have seen me make a complete idiot of myself!

Dazed, I climbed out of the car to meet my fate. As we stood assessing the vehicles, I just couldn’t seem to comprehend that I’d hit this car…in a near empty parking lot…in broad daylight…

The owners shook their heads in wonder as well, then smiled at me. “Our car’s an old beater anyway,” they said. “And what’s a couple more dings? Don’t worry about it. We don’t need to exchange insurances or anything.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t see it.”

“We’re sure,” they said. “It’s really not going to matter.”

Of all cars to be obstructed in my rear view, this was the right one to choose! What nice people! So I drove off with a grateful heart…and lingering questions about my apparent mental state.

Incident #2: Our driveway exited directly across the street from the neighbor’s. One fine morning, with blissful visions of a leisurely stroll down Fred Meyer’s grocery aisles, I backed out of the garage when BAM! Suddenly my neighbor and I were staring at each other wide-eyed, our cars nearly aligned side-by-side by the blow. After she and I verified that neither of us were hurt, we inspected the mutual damage to our vehicle hind ends but soon began laughing. “Can you believe it,” we yucked it up. “Talk about driving in sync!”

The humor of the situation rather failed to impress our husbands, however. Later when they discussed the matter, I thought I heard some muttering about incompetent women drivers. But their amicable negotiations allowed both parties to avoid insurance rate hikes, repair car damages, and maintain neighborly good will throughout the whole process.

Incident #3: Recently, after circling a crowded parking lot and finding nothing available, in my rear view mirror I suddenly noticed a Honda pull out. Mine! I said to the parking space, quickly shifting into reverse. As I backed up, my eyes remained glued on the coveted spot. Suddenly, POW! Oh drat. Not again! This time I was the one hit rather than the one doing the hitting! That’s an improvement, right?

When my husband arrived at the scene, to my surprise he immediately apologized to the other driver. Now why was that, huh? Hadn’t he always told me to avoid quickly admitting blame in such situations?

Okay, yes, I should NOT have been backing up for any such distance in a crowded parking lot, but hey, Mr. I’m-In-A-Hurry apparently didn’t look both ways, and he was the one who hit me! Hello?!!!

Still, our interaction with the other driver remained friendly. Our cars hardly worse for the wear, we exchanged info but chose again to avoid insurance complications.

I must say, as I look back over each fender bender, I’m extremely thankful no one sustained injuries.

Now here’s the kicker:

Several days after the last incident, I attended a ladies’ function. The topic, wouldn’t you know it, was “Driver’s Safety.” Oh, very funny. But when the speaker proceeded to explain the proper technique for backing up, I decided I’d better pay attention.

“Look,” she said, plopping herself down in a chair with her back to the audience. “If you just turn like this and twist to look behind you, notice how much you’re NOT seeing?”

Why, lo and behold, I’d never realized this before!

“Let me show you the proper technique,” the lady said. “It’s called the up-on-one-cheek method.” And she proceeded to lift herself fully onto one hip while twisting around.

And sure enough, lo and behold, you WOULD be able to see so much more!

Well, I’ll be. The old up-on-one-cheek method.

Never knew that! Obviously…

Most amazing of all, God is writing you and me into His Story.

What part do you play in this narrative? Which of the Great Author’s plot lines do you bring to life? What magnificent theme does your story-within-a-story highlight? How does your character affect the rest of the story?

There’s no way to know…

Consider this: Has anyone ever understood their place in history? Surely Abraham knew. God promised him he’d be the father of many nations, but all he experienced of the blessing was the miracle of a child born in his old age. About four thousand years later and after Jesus, you and I see those promises fulfilled so much better than Abraham ever did.

How about Rahab? By faith she chose the God of Israel, left her life of prostitution, married and had Boaz. I’m sure she only saw herself as a grandma who tried to help out her daughter-in-law, Ruth, by babysitting her grandson as much as possible. Who could have told her then that she would have a great grandson named King David and, even farther down the line, a great grandson who would save the world?

Of course the central theme of the Great Author’s story is Jesus, but look at this drama in Luke; at most we see five minutes of this man’s life:

A thief hangs on a cross erected next to Jesus. He hears soldiers, Pharisees and the other crucified criminal mock and curse. Suddenly something powerful rises in this man’s heart and we hear him say, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

In his greatest moment of humiliation and shame, the thief only knows death’s agony, clueless that the faith his dying words express will shout a message of hope down through the ages. Because God wrote him into the story, we believe that it’s never too late to repent.

What about modern examples? Oswald Chambers traveled and lectured, never famous during his lifetime. After his death, his wife spent the rest of her life publishing her husband’s spoken words which she had recorded verbatim in shorthand. My Utmost For His Highest was published ten years after her husband died. During his lifetime, Chambers remained unaware that he had authored a classic that God would use in countless lives.

Ever heard of Christian Wolfkes? This godly Romanian cherished a fervent love for Jews and prayed for years that he might win one for Christ even though there were none in his village and he was too ill to travel. Around 1937 a young Jewish man and his wife arrived. The old carpenter prayed many hours for their salvation, gave them a New Testament and eventually won Richard and Sabina Wurmbrand to Christ.

This couple later stood up to the communist government, and after suffering many years in prison for their faith, Richard wrote the well-known book, Tortured for Christ, and founded Voice of the Martyrs.

Christian Wolfkes only saw himself as a carpenter who wanted to win a Jew to Christ. He never learned the impact his investment in the Wurmbrands had around the world.

What about you and me? We’re just as ordinary and unsuspecting as these folks but our faith is as precious and powerful, and it may also reverberate down through the ages in ways we could never imagine.

I’m glad that it’s up to God to decide where and how He places me into His narrative. Knowing Him as the Author of my story-within-the-greater-story quiets me. I can stop the clamor for meaning, the chase after “finding my purpose,” the hand-wringing over how to be spiritually productive with my time.

Instead, I’m free to simply delight in the Lord and, as best as I understand, follow Him. After all, it’s up to Him to choose from the smorgasbord of my life what parts live on, if any.

If today you’re confused, troubled or perplexed by your life, should this be surprising? We’re all part of a greater story which the Author has not yet finished. Before you stress too much about how your life is turning out despite your best efforts to follow Jesus, it might be a good idea to suspend your conclusions until you reach the last page of the book!

When at last all plot lines converge, all mysteries appear solved and the lovers finally wed, I’m convinced we’ll let out a deep sigh of satisfaction and maybe wipe a tear or two from our eyes. Then in awe of the greatest story ever written, I imagine sinking to our knees before the Great Author of Redemption, our heads bowed in grateful praise…

It was that new-fangled, electric sonic toothbrush. Felt awkward holding it, lots of vibration, and after a few days, my wrist started hurting. Progressed so that I could hardly do anything with that hand. Iced it, took ibuprofen..

Now doesn’t that just beat all when you suffer consequences simply from practicing good dental hygiene? Makes me really feel really, ah, well, old…

What’s up with all the little aches and pains anyway? For example, the bursitis, tendinitis, arthritis…

Some months ago my tooth hurt. I thought I had a cavity and went to the dentist for an exam expecting an easy fix.

“No cavity,” he reassured me, smiling. “Just a bit of root exposed which causes sensitivity. Here, try this Sensodyne toothpaste and consider investing in an electric brush.” What? You can’t just drill and paste or whatever and make it go away permanently?

Now you see why I bought the sonic toothbrush…and injured my wrist. Unfortunately, my tooth still hurts!

At this point I should wrap up this little ditty and bring in a poignant spiritual lesson that will take your breath away. Well, none comes to mind except “We get old; we’re gonna die…”

Wanna hear about my feet?

Readers, In honor of his graduation, my nephew’s mom compiled letters from family and friends to create a gift booklet. Since the advice is fairly universal, I’m sharing my contribution.

Dear Markus,

We are so very proud of you and excited for your future.

Your acceptance into Yale started me thinking about the challenges of great privilege and opportunity. Since my inner philosopher is bursting to pontificate, I hope you’ll indulge me as I reach into my “vast” store of accumulated wisdom and hand you some pearls before you go galloping off into the blue yonder:

Never forget where you came from; never forget where you’re going.

You’ve been blessed with a godly heritage. Keep close to your heart all the things our family stands for, in particular a humble walk with the Lord, so that your feet remain planted firmly on the ground even when your head’s in the clouds. It’s been said that every generation stands on the shoulders of the ones that came before. You’ve been given a lot to stand on!

Most important, remember you’re on a journey—your ultimate destiny waits in eternity. Cultivate this mindset, because an eternal perspective shines like the North Star to guide us safely home.

Never imagine yourself better than others; never imagine others better than you.

You’re going to a place where you’ll be astounded by your peers’ money, status, brains, fame, or talents, but THEY ARE JUST PEOPLE! Look past the identity labels and outward trappings; be curious about everyone, and you’ll find that first impressions are often wrong. Always consider it your responsibility to initiate and do so intentionally. Someone who appears unapproachable may be surprisingly open if you make the first move.

Also keep in mind that not all that glitters is gold. Many times great rivers of pain flow beneath glitzy exteriors—people with big lives often have big problems as well. Ask the Lord to give you eyes to see others as He sees them.

Commit yourself to rise to challenges and stoop to ease burdens.

Remember that perseverance in difficulty may later give you power to do good, and that humbling yourself to do good is noble.

Continue seeking the Lord in every aspect of your life, and you will be a success no matter what you do!

The Lord bless and keep you.

With love and prayers…

Your Aunt and Uncle

©2010 Quotes by Ruth Wood

Random graduate joke: A young man hired by a supermarket reported for his first day of work. The manager greeted him with a warm handshake and a smile, gave him a broom and said, “Your first job will be to sweep out the store.”

“But I’m a college graduate,” the young man replied indignantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that,” said the manager. “Here, give me the broom – I’ll show you how.”

JESUS LOVES U

This recently happened to me. My friend and I were vacationing in Florida and were on our way to St. Petersburg for a fun day at the beach. Suddenly we noticed the words JESUS LOVES in the sky. They looked like a jet trail. Sure enough, we soon saw the airplane start the next letter. As we drove along, we watched as the pilot finished his message in the sky, and we were blessed.

I read a book recently where the author stated that all the time the Father is sending us messages that He loves us. Every breath we take is Him saying, “I love you.” We may reject the message or we may be too preoccupied to receive it, but He keeps sending it. Sometimes it’s even as obvious as writing in the sky….

O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above!

The mourners formed an eclectic group—family, friends, some of Wesley’s drug buddies, and Debra’s prayer supporters.

Because of his drug addiction Wesley caused the family years of grief, yet despite the pain he’d caused, Debra overcame her hurt and learned to love him unconditionally. As his life ebbed away, she became increasingly distressed about his eternal destiny and left no leaf unturned in the matter of his soul despite his extreme hostility and opposition. She enlisted a team of prayer warriors to intercede for his salvation and asked spiritual mentors to visit and share the Lord with him, but he rejected them all, cussed them out and said, “I don’t want anyone touching me, laying hands on me or talking to me about Jesus!” He believed that Jesus was no different than thousands of other people crucified by the Romans. To him the gospel was nonsense, foolishness. But we continued to intercede all the more.

I had noticed Debra’s stress levels skyrocket as she helped her elderly mother care for Wesley, and now on the day of the funeral I could see she was completely exhausted. “I’ve been up most the night getting the programs printed,” she confided. I asked who was officiating, but somehow this detail got overlooked, and here this responsibility, for which she had no time to prepare, fell to her as well.

She invited people to take seats; then in one of those surreal moments that seem suspended in time and space she announced, “I think I’ll sit on the casket.” What? I’m sure the funeral director nearly had a heart attack!

But there she was, perched gracefully on the coffin saying, “Oh, I hope I don’t fall in!” (Because to her surprise the casket gave a bit under her. It was a cardboard one, which all of us including Debra, learned later!) She laughed and said, “Wesley has always been a prankster, and I think he’s playing one last joke on me. It would be just like him.”

I kept staring at her; was I really seeing this? By human standards climbing to this position looked impossible—the coffin sat too high off the ground. How did she do it? I hadn’t really seen her expend any effort in hoisting herself up. (Later she told me that she distinctly heard the Lord tell her to sit on the casket. Under any other circumstances such an idea would have horrified her and felt disrespectful. However, she obeyed the nudge and suddenly felt light as a feather, as if angels lifted her gently into place.)

“I don’t know what to say,” Debra said, tears in her eyes. “Because Wesley’s life was so grievous to me. Would you help me out and share your memories?” And several people did.

As the service progressed, I felt a sadness wash over me. Did Wesley pass without any hope of eternity? Were all our prayers in vain?

Then a lady with a hospital ministry shared. Two days before Wesley died she popped into his room and spontaneously shared the gospel, explaining that Jesus was the bridge to God. Would he like to cross that bridge? Because speaking was difficult for him by then, she offered to pray the sinner’s prayer and if he prayed in his heart to simply say “Amen” at the end. To her great surprise he responded and even added “Thank you, Jesus!”

There was hope?! My cynical self said, “Yeah, sure,” but then I was convicted. Hadn’t we fought intensely for his soul? Wasn’t God big enough?

He was big enough for the thief on the cross. According to Mark 15:32 it appears both thieves mocked Jesus. In Luke we learn that one of them must have had a change of heart because he rebuked the other criminal and then said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Based on this story Christians believe that last-hour conversions are not too late. Wesley had the same opportunity; God’s grace is that outrageous.

Debra concluded the service by sharing the gospel and inviting others to walk the bridge that Jesus provided for eternal life. Believe me, she had everyone’s rapt attention, and it was a great opportunity to speak life and hope into the lives of some who perhaps needed the message more than we could know.

Later I learned that once during his last days, Wesley suddenly sat up in bed. Looking intently at the ceiling, he assumed a posture of surrender with arms back in a gesture of “take me.” I was so touched by this story because it reminded me again that we cannot know a person’s heart.

So I choose to believe that God’s amazing grace was powerful enough for Wesley Rhodes. Debra sitting on the casket somehow seemed symbolic—she had fought valiantly for her brother’s soul and triumphed!

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? … But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (I Corinthians 15:55, 57)

Over the years, my husband and I have gotten to know various elite runners, including one friend who ran in the Olympics. One thing about these athletes—running is their life. Not only do they train hard, but all aspects of their lives must conform to the goal of optimal performance. For example, decisions about diet, sleep, or free time are governed by their passion for running.

As we think about what it means to “run for the prize,” we can learn a lot from world class athletes. They certainly don’t want to embarrass themselves when they compete so they train hard. Since we’re running for an eternal prize, shouldn’t we take our training just as seriously, if not more so?

Endurance
The most obvious goal in a marathon is to make it to the finish line, so a runner needs to build endurance. Like elite athletes, Christians need to:

(1) Eat right.
A daily diet consisting of The Word will build our spiritual body so that it can function optimally. The things on which we feed our mind matter. Ingesting mega doses of TV affects the spirit the way Twinkies do the body. Instead, “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8)

How you fuel your spiritual body plays an important role in how you’ll run the ultimate marathon of life.

(2) Exercise aerobically
Muscles atrophy without use; likewise, only when we take action, consistently practicing what the Bible says, can we hope to get our hearts and minds in shape. Consistent application of scripture is like taking long training runs where you “run with what you know,” creating a solid foundation of spiritual fitness.

Power
An athlete develops his or her power base with strength training. What might this look like in the spiritual realm? Consider these weight-bearing exercises:

Resisting temptation.
James 4:7 says, “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” Repeated practice in resisting the enemy results in strength to keep more and more temptations at bay for longer periods of time.

Carrying your cross.
Do you struggle under financial burdens? Is a challenging person in your life a strain to love? Do you fear a collapse under the burden of poor health? Repeated exercise in carrying your cross will result in a growing capacity to display patience, love and compassion.

When we’re engaged in spiritual weight training, we often get discouraged because of our failures. But consider this: for an athlete to get the greatest benefit from pumping iron, he must do enough reps to the “point of muscle failure” in order to build strength. If he’s just lifting easy weights or not doing enough repetitions, he bulk up very little. So, too, isn’t it encouraging to know that when we buckle under the pressures of life or even give out, we’re still in a process that strengthens us as long as we stay in training?

A spiritual weight lifting program defines and shapes your character, giving you a power you could never attain without this discipline.

Self-discipline

“Endure hardship as discipline…” (Hebrews 12:7) Paul exhorts us to do what it takes to run our personal best. He cites his own example, “I do not run like a man running aimlessly…No, I beat my body and make it my slave…(I Corinthians 9:26a, 27a)

This leads me to wonder what “making my body my slave” might look like? Here are some possibilities:

Daily getting up early to study and pray
Staying up all night in prayer for a friend in distress
Serving your spouse when you don’t feel like it
Giving money to a kingdom cause instead of spending it on self
Fasting in prayer for the salvation of a loved one

Hudson Taylor practiced living on a calorie-restricted diet in preparation for the rigors of missionary life in China. He was willing to do anything to be used by God. What about you and me?

Would God really want me to give up chocolate, lose weight or cut back on my exercise program to gain spiritual fitness? What about media time or reading the newspaper (increase or decrease?) or that expensive vacation to Tahiti?

Deprivation, moderation, and delayed gratification as well as pro-active exercise are all forms of self-discipline that world class athletes use to achieve their goals. In contrast, we spiritual athletes look like wimps, I’m afraid. It causes me to do some serious soul searching. You and I are vying for a prize far more significant than the Olympic gold medal. Do I really believe it?

Training involves pain. We can choose to focus on the pain or decide to put up with it because our eye is on the prize, realizing that pain, hardship and suffering pave the road to glory.

“…we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.” (Romans 8:17)

Spirit
Running to win takes mental toughness and a single-minded focus. Athletes must concentrate on their own race, not compare themselves with others. They need eyes trained on the finish line, a mind disciplined to deal with pain, and a warrior’s heart. They need spirit to fight for victory and determination to never give up.

We need these same qualities as we run for our eternal reward. Remember, we have a triumphant, overcoming spirit because the Holy Spirit lives in us. And His heart is that of a valiant warrior who endures everything to win.

Believe in yourself because God has promised victory. “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31b) “Hold on to what you have so that no one will take your crown.” (Revelation 3:11b) “To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne…” (Revelations 3:21a)

Let’s train hard so we can run well! Are you up for it? Then let’s go for gold!

Every spring my P.E. teacher would send us out on cross country runs. I was the worst whiner, complaining to my friends about side stitches and the torture of this type of exercise. As fate would have it, I married and promptly moved to the famous running community of Eugene, Oregon which boasts the likes of Prefontaine, Mary Slaney, and Alberto Salazar. My husband, too, joined the running craze, so one day I put on my sneakers, stepped out the door and scurried around the block, managing to propel myself forward for five full minutes. Hmm, I thought, maybe I CAN do this. After all, I’ve given birth to babies, so what’s a little sweating and huffing and puffing? Soon I worked up to fifteen minutes a day, then thirty.

My husband ran 10K races and even won some prizes. I never entertained those kind of dreams—my times were too slow. It never crossed my mind to train very seriously because I didn’t believe that I could win anything. I ran to get a little exercise and keep my weight down. It was only a hobby.

Many Christians appear to have the same attitude. We know we’re no Mother Teresa, Beth Moore, or even as spiritually fit as the pastor’s wife, so why put much effort into our spiritual lives? Our attitude says: I could never be a “spiritual professional,” so why not take it easy and bask in the sunlit glory of others?

But Paul says to “run in such a way as to win the prize.” The Christian race cannot be a hobby; it must be a passion that consumes our whole life.

Despite wonderful support and encouragement from believing friends, ultimately, Christian running is not a team sport, but an individual one. In this race a crown awaits every single participant. In a very real sense, each runner is competing against himself, not others.

Comparison games are futile anyway. By what standard could we accurately measure the unique differences people face in their challenges? Only the “Sovereign Judge of Life’s Race” has the ability to comprehend all our gasping, panting and laboring as we strain toward the goal—He alone sees the terrain from beginning to end that each of us must travel; He alone recognizes the type of obstacles each of us must face; and He alone understands the many liabilities we carry within.

Despite running an individual race, we are not running alone—we’re observed by two audiences. The first is a heavenly one: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us…run with perseverance the race marked out for us. (Hebrews 12:1) The angels and saints are cheering us on! In the same way that God is for us, this invisible crowd is on our team. Can you hear them, going wild in the stands…for you? Come on, let’s step up the pace!

Secondly, we run before an earthly audience. Family, friends, and even strangers are watching us—we have a responsibility to them by how we live. Will we run in such a way that inspires others to follow?

By God’s grace, whether we’re ungracefully knocking down hurdles, flying like the wind, or only limping our way forward, may our wholehearted passion for the Lord be unmistakable as we keep our eyes on the prize.

I love you, O Lord. Not another God and no one else comes even a close second. I love you, oh Strength of My Life. You are my Rock, my stability, the place I can anchor my whole life and know that the foundations of my existence can never be moved or shaken. As my Rock you are a secure footing on which to stand.

You are my fortress, my safe and secure place, a refuge, a place of peace and quiet, to which I can go when the world advances on me, O my Deliverer. You rescue me from all trials and tribulations, both now and those to come.

You are my shield; you place yourself between me and the fiery darts of the enemy. When I stay behind you, I am kept safe.

I call to you and I am saved from my enemies. Not I will be, but I am.

But cords of death entangle me. Life is closing in and I can hardly breathe. See how I keep getting pulled under as torrents of destruction wash over me? I’m in distress. Lord, help! Hear me!

In my mind’s eye the earth trembles and quakes, the mountains shake violently because of your red hot anger, because of the smoke coming from your nostrils. You’re furious with my enemies and you’re going to do something about it! Suddenly You part the heavens and descend, stomping on dark clouds at your feet. You leap onto the cherubim and fly, soaring on the wings of the wind, moving quickly to save me. I watch you advancing stealthily, first under a covering of darkness, then your bright Presence explodes out of the clouds, unleashing a torrent of hailstones and great bolts of lightning. Your arrows have routed my enemies, Lord!

In the fury of your justice, the valleys of the sea are exposed and the foundations of the earth laid bare at your rebuke. Yes, things that were long hidden in deep darkness are now exposed and dealt with.

And now I gasp as I see Your great arms reaching down from on high towards me. You grip me firmly by the hands, pulling, pulling me out of deep waters, this dreadful place where the waves of destruction have continually pummeled me. You’ve done it, Lord, you’ve rescued me! My enemies were too strong for me, but they could not stand against You. Now I see how You were my support all along.

You’ve brought me out into a spacious place…I love this place where I can breathe freely, where I have room to grow, where I have a wider sphere of influence to do good.

You rescued me because You delighted in me! This seems hard to accept because how can you delight in me when I have so many flaws? But You do! You are my Delight, too, Lord!

To the faithful you show yourself faithful, to the blameless you show yourself blameless, to the pure you show yourself pure…(It’s hard to grasp that in Christ You really see me faithful, blameless and pure). But to the crooked you show yourself shrewd. I’m glad that You handle the crooked and that they can’t pull one over on You.

You save the humble but bring down those with pride in their eyes. And it’s You, Lord who keep my lamp, my hope, burning; You alone turn my darkness (my sin and all the things I don’t understand about my life) into light. With Your help I can do anything, even take the offensive against an army of heavenly forces. And with You I can leap over a wall, flying over hurdles that seem impossible in my life.

Who is God besides You, Lord? And who is the Rock except You? You are the One who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect. I seem to have so little control over my path and it certainly does not seem perfect to me. So I trust you with the process that the things I don’t understand will work out.

You make my feet like those of a deer, surefooted, to be able to scale the heights, even spiritual heights I’ve never known before.

You are the one who trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend even a very powerful bow. Help me to remember this when I am battling heavenly forces. I have no reason to think that I cannot prevail, that I won’t be strong enough, because You are the One who trained me for what I must face.

You go before me and broaden my path, so that my ankles do not turn. You want to prevent me from stumbling!

You are also the One who gives the victory. Your right hand guarantees that I will overcome. Your victory truly is a shield behind which I am protected from the evil one forever.

You live, Lord! Praise be to You, my Rock! Most exalted are You, my Savior! You are the God who avenges me, who saves me, who rescues me. Therefore I will praise you among the nations; I will praise you among strangers and friends alike, O Lord.

I’m singing, singing, singing…praise be to Your Name.

Once I had children of my own I wanted the same for them and expected that I would continue to relive the excitement of the season in my heart as well. However, though I kept trying to re-create the wonder and joy of my childhood, I was repeatedly disappointed. More decorations, more presents, more cookies, more traditions. I flitted about in a frenzy of doing. Soon I was completely overwhelmed. Not even more quiet moments by candlelight with my kids satisfied me. I began to wonder, “Why am I feeling so empty during the holidays? As a Christian shouldn’t I be reveling in the joy of it all?”

One day it occurred to me that I was looking for Christmas in all the wrong places. Wasn’t Christmas about Jesus? How had I missed this? In my efforts to re-create the magic of the season for my children, I had lost sight of its true meaning.

After this, I made a point to do less and enjoy Him more. I rejoiced over the Christmas carols that proclaimed His name as I shopped in the stores. I spent more time reflecting on the Christmas story and its meaning. I pared down my decorations, curtailed the activities, and baked less—we didn’t need the calories anyway. As a result, I’ve been able to enjoy the holidays much more.

For sure, Jesus is Christmas and Christmas is Jesus. And because He is Emmanuel, God with us, I will forever carry Christmas in my heart.

With love and prayers for peace throughout the holiday season,

Ruth