Life is heavy, frightening, uncertain, and smothering right now. Shelter your soul, mind, and body under the all-powerful wings of Jesus. He is so faithful and kind. He is the Mighty Warrior. He is the only Omniscient, Omnipresent, and Omnipotent One. You are safe in the shelter of His presence and so are the ones you hold dear. He’s got them and He’s got you. He is the Prince of Peace and Emmanuel, God with us, is His name.
May Jesus be your Father, your God, your Counselor, and your Peace this Christmas. He is the greatest gift.
The December night is dark and deep, stillness and chill seeping into bones despite a layering of coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and thick-soled boots.
Footfall is muffled and shushed along the pine-strewn path, boots stirring up the ancient scent of the woods and winter-shrouded earth.
The hush of the forest has a particular sound—not truly silent to the careful observer but full of the rustle, scurry, and purpose of those living in the night. Frigid air gives their purpose a new vigor with warm dens and beds of fern, pine needles, and forest detritus waiting to give shelter.
Deep, full inhalations fill lungs to the brim with invigorating, life-giving air. Oddly, the heavy chill, though it burns and startles, offers peace and affirmation of knowing one is alive and well. Sometimes it takes the cloak of a dark, wintry, forest-y night to bring clarity to the chaos and exposure of living in the light.
Rounding the curve in the path, the stillness of the pond with the shimmery moon-glow trail on the dark water is breathtaking. A path of light and love painted on the water by the brush strokes of One who loves to bring awe, redemption, and delight. Loved. Seen. Safe.
The sound of stealthy prowling comes from the edge of the pond as a night hunter shifts and waits for dinner. Circle of life.
Moving along as the chill ever deepens, the hooting of an owl adds to the frosty night noises—haunting and lovely, it is primitive and wild.
The path around the pond circles back on itself, and my boots head back to the cabin. Thoughts of the cheerful fire in the firepit on the deck and the warm sherpa blanket urge me onward at a brisker pace.
Wrapped in the cozy blanket, Irish coffee in the large Christmas mug warms my cold hands, steam rising merrily as the fire mesmerizes me.
A scrabbling, crunchy noise interrupts my reveries as a creature moves about to the left of the deck, digging through pine needles and foliage for a midnight snack. Curious glowing eyes spy on me. The shadowy outline of a fat raccoon in the faint reach of the firelight watches me until her curiosity wanes, and she moves along.
Leaning back in the deck chair, the stars appear strewn about like so much glitter landing at random points. But nothing is truly random. The night sky is beautifully planned and decorated with patterns and puzzles of light created to lead the ancient traveler.
Frosty breath wafts up as if making its way to the austere moon that guides, watches, and travels the night sky. Fascinating to imagine all the eyes that have looked up in the night for navigation and a sense of constancy in a world that doesn’t always seem that way. A balm to lonely souls, the shining beacon of light makes things feel safer and less chaotic.
The shepherds on that holy and silent night looked up into the same chilled, star-filled sky that I see on my deck as the fire glows and snickers to itself. The same moon watched on as the Holy One became man, as angelic hosts filled the still and starry night with the most awe-inspiring, stunning display of power and love that humankind has ever known.
It is not by happenstance that eyes are drawn upward—seeking wisdom, direction, meaning, safety, love, and blessed peace.
From a cold and silent winter night, filled with moonlight and stars, came the Light of the world. A Divine exchange between Creator and creation. Ultimate gift. Unconditional love. Emmanuel.
Warm bed beckons, and I head inside, mind full of awe as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of the gift humanity was given on that night so long ago.
The old wood stove burns quiet, drowsy warmth. I curl up under quilts and comforters as the light of the moon gently glows through the snug window. Thoughts of angels, joy, and eternity soothe and calm into a restful sleep—a silent and holy night where all is calm and bright under a December moon.
From Divine Appointments…
Photo credit: Martin Mariani
Psalm 126:3 NLT “Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us! What joy!”
One week before Christmas and I’m dealing with a nasty cold/virus, canceled plans, and feelings of disappointment. My husband and I won’t have our adult kids home this year, so these vacation plans were something festive and exciting we hoped would ease the missing of them this year.
I was up extra early this morning in an attempt to ease the coughing and sneezing. I cozied down in my favorite chair wrapped in a blanket, with hot coffee, and the Christmas lights glowing in the living room. I wanted to feel sad, disappointed, frustrated, and I did, but…the silence, the misty fog outside, and the warm, glowing lights covered me in such a comforting feeling of peace and safety. I felt tucked in and looked after. Divine presence…
As I settled in, my mind wandered to Christmases past, funny and happy memories, and then it circled back to the now. It’s true that my plans and expectations for this season aren’t following the script, but joy doesn’t always come in carefully planned, to-do list ways. In the lovely quiet, I felt His gentle reminder of all the ways good things did happen. In the unexpected blessings and joys that did find me, in the divine encounters and the divine whispers that left me in awe of how deeply seen, known, and loved I am by the greatest gift ever given – Jesus. Emmanuel, God with us – the One who never disappoints, never falls short, lavishes us with blessings, joy, peace, and handmade gifts uniquely crafted for me and for you. Apple of His eye.
So yes, I am confident I will find joy this Christmas season. I will actively search for it in the ordinary, the mundane, the silence of a quiet house, the glow of holiday lights, and the adventure of canceled plans, because He knows the plans He has for me. That is comforting.
I pray that you will find the joy, the adventures, and the beauty in this season of mystery and divine appointments as you look to Him because He is enough.
Photo credit: Sid Cosmo
Psalm 91:4 NIV
“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”
I was drinking my coffee in the hush of this foggy morning, savoring being alone before the demands of the day started fussing and insisting on attention. The soft light from these brightly glowing candles was soothing and peaceful.
Sitting in my kitchen listening to the world wake up, I noticed how easily the candlelight was swayed and pulled toward any disturbance in the air. The little lights struggled to stay lit, bouncing and fluttering to the whims of the draft, helpless to move, shift, or regain equilibrium on their own.
Watching the brave dancing of the candlelight brought to mind Psalm 91. Aren’t we often like these confident candles? We burn bright, strong, and lovely when things are calm and no disturbances surround us. We are proud and sure of ourselves and our world.
But…drafts happen. Gusts of change, storms of conflict, gales of fear, and the cold winds of diagnoses come, often suddenly, leaving us ill prepared and helpless. We blow around in the confusion and anxiety fearing that our light will extinguished; that we won’t be able to stay steady on our own.
Quietly at first, you hear a still, yet powerful voice echoing through the chaos, breaking through the whims of the wind. We hear Him and call out for help, rescue, and hope. Then, comes the brush of feathers along your cheek, the hush of being wrapped up tightly in wings of safety and peace, the scent of heaven surrounding you as you are sheltered, protected, and delivered from the chaos and debris the world and the wounds of humanity throw at us each day. He is faithful. He is good. He alone is the answer to the fickle winds of chaos that always come as part of living on this earth. But, we don’t have to save ourselves. He came to do that. Emmanuel, God with us. Always. Everywhere.
You are His treasure. Peace be with you.
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”[a] (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:23 NIV
This scripture shows up a lot during the Christmas season. A beautiful celebration and comforting reminder that the Savior came as a helpless baby into a dark world that so desperately needed Him – it still does. We still do.
If we remember this soul-deep anticipation, quickening of the heart, the feeling of something greater than us coming as the holidays pass and life goes back to the humdrum, ordinary business, trials, and victories – might we live a little differently?
I think we might.
Emmanuel, God with us.
Sit in the stillness of this, the power of this, the holiness of this, the immense love that is in this name.
Everything that humanity strives toward, desperately needs, and seeks in all the wrong places is found in this name, Emmanuel. God with us. Jesus. What more could we need?
Jesus is our hope, our protector, our creator, the One who sees us in all of our human messiness and miraculously draws even closer to us because of it. He searches you out in the dark chaos of the world, and calls you by name to just come to Him. That’s all. Just come. Just let Him love you, restore you, heal you, let you by still waters, and lead you to the cross where all that hurts, wounds, and seeks to destroy can be laid down once and for all at His feet.
What might happen if we begin each day with His name in our hearts and on our lips – Emmanuel, God with us, with you, with me. Not just during the holidays, but every single day. He never stops seeking us and finding us, healing us and loving us, delighting in us and going with us in all things ordinary and extraordinary.
May Jesus, the Prince of Peace, Light in the darkness, Healer of hearts go with you today and always. You are loved. Peace be with you. Emmanuel be with you.
The December night is dark and deep, stillness and chill seeping into bones despite the layering of coat, scarf, hat, gloves, and thick soled boots.
Footfall is muffled and shushed along the pine strewn path, boots stirring up the ancient scent of the woods and winter shrouded earth.
The hush of the forest has a particular sound – not truly silent to the careful observer, but full of the rustle, scurry, and purpose of those living in the night. Frigid air gives their purpose a new vigor with warm dens and beds of fern, pine needles and forest detritus waiting to give shelter.
Deep, full inhalations fill lungs to the brim with invigorating, life giving air. Oddly, the heavy chill, though it burns and startles, offers peace and affirmation of knowing one is alive and well. Sometimes it takes the cloak of a dark, wintry, forest-y night to bring clarity to the chaos and exposure of living in the light.
Rounding the curve in the path, the stillness of the pond with the shimmery moon-glow trail on the dark water is breathtaking. A path of light and love painted on the water by the brush strokes of One who loves to bring awe, redemption, and delight. Loved. Seen. Safe.
The sound of stealthy prowling comes from the edge of the pond as a night hunter shifts and waits for dinner. Circle of life.
Moving along as the chill ever deepens, the hooting of an owl adds to the frosty night noises – haunting and lovely it is primitive and wild.
The path around the pond circles back on itself and my boots head back to the cabin. Thoughts of the cheerful fire in the firepit on the deck and the warm sherpa blanket urge me onward at a brisker pace.
Wrapped in the cozy blanket, Irish coffee in the large Christmas mug warms my cold hands; steam rising merrily as the fire mesmerizes.
A scrabbling, crunchy noise interrupts my reveries as a creature moves about to the left of the deck, digging through pine needles and foliage for a midnight snack. Curious glowing eyes spy on me. The shadowy outline of a fat raccoon in the faint reach of the firelight watches me until curiosity wans and she moves along.
Leaning back in the deck chair the stars appear strewn about like so much glitter landing at random points. But nothing is truly random. The night sky is beautifully planned and decorated with patterns and puzzles of light created to lead the ancient traveler.
Frosty breath wafts up as if making its way to the austere moon that guides, watches and travels the night sky. Fascinating to imagine all the eyes that have looked up in the night for navigation and a sense of constancy in a world that doesn’t always appear that way. A balm to lonely souls, the shining beacon of light makes things feel safer and less chaotic.
The shepherds on that holy and silent night looked up into the same chilled, star filled sky that I see on my deck as the fire glows and snickers to itself. The same moon watched on as the Holy One became man, as angelic hosts filled the still and starry night with the most awe-inspiring, stunning display of power and love that humankind has ever known.
It is not by happenstance that eyes are drawn upward – seeking wisdom, direction, meaning; safety, love and blessed peace.
From a cold and silent winter night, filled with moonlight and stars came the Light of the world. A Divine exchange between Creator and creation. Ultimate gift. Unconditional love. Emmanuel.
Warm bed beckons and I head inside, mind full of awe as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of the gift humanity was given on that night so long ago.
The old wood stove burns quiet, drowsy warmth. I curl up under quilts and comforters as the light of the moon gently glows through the snug window. Thoughts of angels, joy and eternity soothe and calm into restful sleep – a silent and holy night where all is calm and bright under a December moon.
Extravagant Hope 