“…- an escape from the mundane of my day and a glimpse into heaven. Every page had me nodding my head; identifying with what the author penned while simultaneously being both challenged and inspired. Truly, a divine encounter!”
healing
Day at the Beach
The early morning sun offers the promise of warmth and expectation.
An indolent day at the beach is exactly what is needed!
Arms laden with a beach bag full of vittles, sunscreen, and a towel, I discover the perfect spot to settle in for the day.
Cliffs behind me, ocean before me, sun above me, sand below.
Perfection. Shelter. Peace.
My little space is set up; all is in order and ready for me to be one with the breeze and old-Earth smell of brine and life and decay.
Shoes off, sunscreen on, now to the water.
Contradictions.
That is what I see in the ocean, yet also safety, born out of the ancient rhythms of the Earth—forever marching on, steady and unyielding.
The tide’s constancy is relentless, untamable, fierce; all without apology, the ocean does what it is meant to do.
The water laps and rushes and chases my feet, startling and elemental in its coldness. Invigorating and inspiring.
The birds, crabs, and tiny sea creatures count on the unchanging ways of the ocean because it is life to them. The ocean gives, and these creatures take.
But I think the ocean is also a taker. It takes the worries, stress, fears, and uncertainties in life; it takes words spoken and wept and screamed by those who walk the beach looking for answers, solace, and peace. We push those things out of our hearts, and the ocean pulls them into itself.
A lovely dance.
Perhaps this is what God does for us. He takes all the fear, rage, worry, and tears that we spew out into Himself and pulls them away from us as we release it all to Him. He is fierce, constant, untamable, mysterious, and present. He gives life; He is love; we rely on Him.
Back at my sanctuary, the sand under my legs and back is so warm, relaxing, and inviting. It is solid and permanent; warmth leeches into my chilled bones, lulled to a drowsy peacefulness.
With closed eyes and warm sun baking down in pleasant coziness, I notice my other senses stirred; susurrating waves whisper and breathe, birds call overhead; somewhere, a dog is barking.
That scent of salt floats on the ever-present breeze along with notes of a barbecue and the cloying scent of flowers.
Drowsy and dreamy, my mind wanders in that half-dreaming state of blissful rest.
The sun has shifted in the sky, and there is a slight chill in the air. How long have I been lying here?
Hunger gnaws, so here come the snacks.
Seagulls make an appearance and scold and demand that I share, watching closely every move I make. I share.
Before packing up, it’s time for a walk.
There are footprints going before me in the sea-soaked sand, and I wonder whose they are and what secrets they’ve spoken to the sea today.
Interesting how before long, all traces of my footprints will be washed away, as if I had never walked here; as if the past is washed away and cleaned up and brand-new sand is offered up for a new direction, new footprints, new promises.
Jesus cleans up our lives like this; the old washed away, the new offered up; clean, lovely, and ready for a new journey. Sun dipping down, air quite cool, water coming higher; my signal to call it a day.
Heading to the car, I feel rested, new, and cleansed, a little wild and wooly from the rawness of the ocean and its wild and chaotic yet perfectly ordered dance.
Ordinary Day
Sometimes our most ordinary day has the most profound, eternal impact in the life of the one who’s prayer was answered through our simple obedience to God’s leading. You matter. You make a difference.
Next Year’s Word
What word(s) is next year’s Voice speaking to your heart? Take a minute to be still. Listen to what Jesus is singing over you for this next year.
Is it peace? Rest? Provision? Is He covering you with healing and wholeness? Is He hiding you under His wings? Is He bringing you to a new place and new relationships? Is He delivering you from things not meant for you? Ask Him. He will tell you in the unique way He speaks to you. There is a plan and purpose for this next year and He will walk with you and me through it – right next to us, never leaving us, and never forsaking us.
He is good, He is safe, He is for us. You are so loved. Peace be with you.
2026
Space
I pray as 2026 looms near that we find our voices, sink our roots deeply into the space God has planted us, and thrive. He knows the plans He has for us and He knows the way you will positively impact those He has placed around you – it’s not by chance that you are where you are. You are so loved. Peace be with you.
God of Hope
As the new year approaches, let’s trust that God has us and will never let go. We can’t see what’s unfolding for 2026, but He can. He’s there preparing the path before us, making a way around, over, and through whatever comes our way. May we overflow with joy, peace, and love. May it splash over onto everyone we meet.
Just a Night…
It was Just a Night…
Imagine with me, if you will, what it may have been like for the shepherds on that holiest of nights, so many years ago.
The quiet hillside breathing silently under a clear, star-filled sky; the sound of their flocks settling in, like they always did, with murmurs, rustlings, and scrabbling with the occasional noisy bleat of lambs fussing for a warm spot next to the fluffy ewes.
Shepherds, ever watchful and alert, yet calm and ready for a typical, peaceful night. Perhaps they, too, scoot in close to the warm, fuzzy sheep as the night deepens and the air cools and chills.
Quiet conversations around a small fire and a simple meal, perhaps? Jokes and a recounting of the day wan and fade as the night falls deeper and silence blankets the hillside.
It was just a night until it wasn’t…
Imagine their quiet night suddenly interrupted by the sky exploding in radiant, holy light and sound, like nothing ever seen before—certainly nothing ever seen by a group of tired shepherds outside a sleepy village on a typical night. The terror and fear must have been palpable, washing over them like a terrible nightmare, until they heard the angel’s voice saying, “Don’t be afraid! I bring you good news of great joy for everyone! The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born tonight in Bethlehem, the City of David! And this is how you will recognize Him: You will find a baby lying in a manger, wrapped snugly in strips of cloth!”
Add to this amazing announcement, this supernatural display, the addition of a vast host of the armies of heaven praising God and rejoicing at this beautiful, holy, saving gift just given to all people for all time. A gift that will never be fully understood—mocked, ridiculed, and murdered—yet the only gift that will love, redeem, and save your life and mine.
Imagine that first feeling of terror turning to incredible joy, unspeakable love, and supernatural peace that in all its Divine power was quite possibly unbearable—wild and fierce.
I can feel down to my very bones the uncontrollable need to fall to my knees in reverence, awe, fear, and worship before such an announcement! A Savior, the Messiah, the Holy One come to save—a divine encounter with the King of Kings and the heavenly host. The atmosphere must have been sizzling with a supernatural, divine portent.
When the angels departed, did the shepherds stand around arguing about what they experienced? Did they try to explain away this divine encounter with the supernatural as indigestion, an atmospheric distortion, strange cloud formations, or tainted wine? Did they minimize this gift of love so deep that human minds cannot fathom it? No, they didn’t. They believed. They sought out the Savior to see him, worship him, and accept the love gift freely given to them. They accepted it and shared it with others.
I don’t believe they slept much that night. Returning to their now still and silent hillside, I wonder if they spoke. Did they attempt to recount the events they had just witnessed? Did they fully understand the impact of what they beheld in that lowly stable? How does one explain the Divine? I wonder what changes took place silently in their hearts. Mary quietly treasured all she witnessed that night in her heart, and I believe the shepherds did the same.
It was just a night on a hillside with their sheep until it wasn’t.
1. Luke 2: 10-12
Photo credit: Burkay Canatar
Stars in the Dark
“Our God who breathes stars in the dark – He breathes Bethlehem’s Star, then takes on lungs and breathes in stable air. We are saved from hopelessness because God came with infant fists and opened wide His hand to take the iron-sharp edge of our sins.” – Ann Voskamp “The Greatest Gift”
Photo credit: eberhard grossgasteiger
December Moon
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
Extravagant Hope 