December 14. “The angel answered, ‘I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent and unable to speak until the day that these things take place, because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time.” (Luke 1:19-20, ESV)

When Zechariah questioned the plausibility of Gabriel’s statement that Elizabeth would bear a son, he lost his words. The entire situation surrounded words: Zechariah’s words of doubt concerning the angel’s words of prophecy caused him to lose his spoken words until his son was born and named John as Gabriel had instructed.

Words are of utmost importance to God. The Bible makes that obvious. It is made up of words that are “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit…discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (Hebrews 4:12, ESV) It testifies to Jesus Christ as “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1:14, ESV) In the book of Proverbs, we are instructed that “gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.” (Proverbs 16:24) Several of the Ten Commandments even center around the use of our words.

I think one of the lessons to be gleaned from the Christmas story is a reminder to examine whether I am living as though my words matter to God. It seems that as believers, we study and learn a lot about what God has to say about things like money, our bodies, and even our minds. I know to keep these things in alignment with the will of God or suffer the consequences. But I don’t give as much thought to the power of my words.

Lately there has been a lot of unkind talk in our house—picking at one another, saying something mean just to get a reaction, sarcasm. I have noticed a disconnect between words spoken and words received. The person delivering the less-than-kind words seems to have no regard for the impact they will make on the recipient. But if that same person is later on the receiving end, he or she is crying injustice at the first utterance.

It isn’t just the kids either. Since I have been considering Zechariah’s story, I have noticed how careless I can be with my own words, yet I will receive another person’s words with great seriousness—for better or worse—as though I assume the person gave great thought to them before speaking. Perhaps sometimes the person did, and the words are worthy of serious consideration. But more often, I think the person speaking was just as careless with his or her words as I usually am.

The solution? “Whoever restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding. Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent.” (Proverbs 17: 27-28, ESV) 

Clearly words matter to God, and they should matter to me—not just the receiving of them, but also the delivering. I am called to have self-control in my speech—in fact, my speech should reflect all of the fruits of the spirit. God’s Spirit in me is what will allow me to accomplish this.

When the angel punished Zechariah for failing to believe, he chose to take Zechariah’s words from him. That left him with only his thoughts and perhaps written words. I imagine that led Zechariah to ponder his thoughts like never before. I wonder if he spoke differently when his period of silence ended—perhaps with more restraint and after much reflection and introspection.

That is undoubtedly a lesson that would benefit me. I would be wise to remember that “[w]hen words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.” (Proverbs 10:19)

“Thank You, God, for including Zechariah’s story as a reminder that words matter to You. I know I am guilty of having no filter on my own words, yet holding others to a high standard of responsibility for their words. Through your Word, I see that the high standard is indeed Your will but that it needs to be applied both to my delivered words and to my received words. Help me to rely on the Holy Spirit more in my speech and to produce more fruit-bearing words. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.” (James 3:5-12, NIV)

December 13. It’s hard to believe there are still twelve days until Christmas. This year is so different for me. It isn’t just mailing the cards early. Or decorating the tree a couple of weeks ago. Or even the gifts that I wrapped today. It is that I had time to do those things peacefully—not rushing around, stressed at the last minute—and that now I can enjoy them. So many years, I wrapped gifts into the wee hours of Christmas Eve. The paper would literally be on the gifts for a few hours before it would be crumpled into a trash bag.

None of this is intended to be judgment or boasting or any kind of implication that sending cards or wrapping gifts at the last minute is bad. Sometimes I enjoyed the last minute scurry to complete holiday preparations. But the last few years, I haven’t. I always felt buried under the mountain of tasks and because I scrambled around at the last minute, Christmas itself seemed to go so fast. Then I felt discouraged when it ended.

As I think about this year’s Advent journey so far, it is a noticeable difference from years past. I started earlier, made a detailed plan, and now it is unfolding at a manageable pace that I am actually enjoying!

I think a lot of it is that our December schedule this year is so much saner. Previous years, we have had co-op until the week before Christmas, participated in a big Christmas championship swim meet, and maintained our usual school load and activities with the additional parties, programs, and other festivities of the season.

Our new homeschool group doesn’t meet in December. That has been amazingly wonderful! I gain a whole day of my week, and the kids have a lighter workload for the month, allowing time for the crafts and devotionals I wanted to do—and am actually doing! This is big! I rarely follow through on my grand plans. I hate to admit that, but it is true!

I miss the Christmas Champs swim meet because it was always fun, but I gained a whole weekend in December without it. And saying “Yes” to fewer festivities has taken a little willpower, but the benefits have been great.

All of this reminds me of a book I read almost ten years ago—Margin by Richard Swenson. It made such an impact on me. It resulted in a paradigm shift that I am only recently starting to live out. The concept is simple—leaving margin in all areas of our life (finances, time, living environment, relationships, etc.) reduces stress, increases productivity, and produces much more peace in our lives.

Margin is white space. Just like the way we were taught to write in school—keeping our words inside the red lines on the sides of the paper. In life, it means being sure not to spend every penny we earn but instead leaving a buffer for unexpected opportunities or emergencies. In time, it means leaving early enough to allow for traffic or to catch every stoplight on your route. In scheduling, it means saying “Yes” to fewer things, so you can really focus on and enjoy the things you do instead of cramming so much into your days that everything blurs together.

One of my favorite Scriptures is Psalm 31:14-15a: “But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hand.” The verses that precede those are all about seeking refuge. The Psalmist refers to those who look to worthless idols, to affliction and distress, and to a life of sorrow and years spent sighing. I can relate to those things. That is what life feels like when it is too full and out of control. But when I look to God and trust Him to help me make decisions, I avoid all of the enemies that try to rob me of my peace.

Sometimes we can’t have margin. An illness, injury, or need arises that stretches us to the limit. That’s the point though. When we live our “routine lives” with margin, we are strong enough to endure the trials that come our way—and to help others when they face unexpected trials. We don’t go from empty to emptier but from full to empty for a time and then, hopefully, we can recover and refill again. And God meets us in those situations, provides for us through others, and teaches us through them. But when our “ordinary,” everyday lives are characterized by frazzled, rushing around, we end up missing out on things like rest, reflection, and quality time with loved ones. Satan loves our busyness, and I think God just stands by watching and wondering when we will realize that we have filled our lives with everything but Him.

Lord, Thank you that so far this Advent season feels noticeably different from years past. I appreciate the decisions you led us to earlier in the year that have resulted in more margin in our December than I think we have ever had before. I am so grateful that you called me to these daily reflections and that I am actually finding the time to follow through with them. Please keep reminding me of the seemingly simple things that can make a huge difference in how peaceful life feels. In the name of the Prince of Peace I pray, Amen.

“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

December 12. Advent people are people in search of a miracle. Before the first Christmas, the Jews waited expectantly for the promised Messiah, uncertain of when or how He would come—so uncertain that most of them missed Him altogether.

For us modern day Advent people, our waiting is almost commemorative because we already know the end of the story…the birth of the babe, the life of the perfect man, the death of our Jesus, the resurrection of our Savior. We try to make the waiting meaningful by seeking God more deeply during Advent, serving more willingly, giving more generously, but even these efforts only allow us to glimpse a shadow of the truly desperate search for a miracle.

Unless…we are anticipating our own miracle.

I have a friend who is waiting for a miracle. Her daughter is battling cancer, and the battle is grueling and painful and agonizing to her mother’s heart. Tonight as I pray for her, I also remember. I remember waiting for my own miracle. I remember spending every holiday one year in the hospital. I remember being expectant and hopeful—and desperate.

What does a mother waiting for a miracle look like? The Bible captures it perfectly in the story of Hannah. She desperately wanted a son, but her womb was closed and to make matters worse, her rival provoked her mercilessly year after year. “[Hannah] was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly.” (1 Samuel 1:10, ESV) She made a vow to God that if she had a son, she would give him to the Lord “all the days of his life.

“As she continued praying before the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. Hannah was speaking in her heart; only her lips moved, and her voice was not heard.” (v. 13) This led Eli, the priest, to think Hannah was drunk. She corrected him, saying, “No, my lord, I am a woman troubled in spirit. I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink, but I have been pouring out my soul before the Lord.” (v. 15)

Hannah gets her miracle. Her son, Samuel, was born soon after this encounter with Eli. And she kept her vow. When she had weaned her son, she brought him to the house of the Lord and gave him to Eli, saying, “For this child I prayed, and the Lord has granted me my petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the Lord. As long as he lives, he is lent to the Lord.” (v. 27-28)

Samuel served in the temple with Eli and was eventually called by God to be a prophet. Hannah went on to have three more sons and two daughters.

Not all mothers waiting for miracles get what they hope for. Sometimes the babies never make it out of the womb. Or they come without breath. Or wounded. Or they arrive perfect but suffer from the injuries and disease that plague our fallen world. Sometimes healings come, but not on earth. And sometimes they come on earth, but at great cost.

What is a mother waiting for a miracle to do? The only thing she can do. Pray and weep and pour out her soul before the Lord. And then accept that the miracle actually came the moment she became a mother. When her baby was tiny and microscopic and she didn’t even know he or she existed. The miracle is life. From that moment forward, all a mother can do is “give [her child] to the Lord all the days of his life,” however short or long, or joy-filled or gut-wrenching those days may be. “As long as [her child] lives, he is lent to the Lord.”

People waiting for miracles have the truest perspective on Advent of anyone. They possess razor-sharp vision of the value of life and of what it means to be desperate for a Savior. We who are searching for a deeper perspective of Advent would do well to spend time praying for, serving, and listening to the people around us who are waiting for miracles. And to remember Your faithfulness during our own waiting. We search for you at Christmas in brightly wrapped packages and shiny lights and colored tinsel. But we find you beside hospital bedsides—in mothers’ pleading tears, siblings’ faithful prayers, and fathers’ feelings of helplessness—in the unexpected places You have always dwelled—like in mangers and and on crosses and in the hearts of desperate people.

Lord, I join my friend Stacie in pleading for Berkleigh’s little body to fight the cancer that has invaded it. I beg You to ease her pain and heal her completely. I pray supernatural strength for her family as they endure this storm that keeps pummeling them. Thank You for the miracle of Berkleigh’s life that has belonged to you from the beginning. Thank You that the work of Your Son, whose birth we are about to celebrate, means that Berkleigh’s victory is already assured. We love and trust You, Lord. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” (Psalm 62:8, ESV)

December 11. Today, I have nothing to write. Nothing went in, so nothing comes out. Somehow I managed to skip my own Advent devotional, our family one, and the younger kid one—all in the same day. A record low. Since Thursday evenings are the one evening that I cannot escape for some solitude, I am facing my blank Advent Journal page with a blank mind.

I spoke to God today—several times actually—in prayer for others. There is a lot of need in my community of friends right now. Injuries. Sicknesses. Final exams. Decisions. Relationship challenges. Cancer. But even intercession for others doesn’t fill me personally the way time in God’s word and time just listening to Him does.

This is a day when I am grateful for grace, grateful that my faith is not legalistic, and grateful that tomorrow I will wake up with the same access to the same God that I love and worship and that nothing about what I did or did not do today affects my standing with Him in the least.

Years ago, a day like this would have spiraled out of control. I used to believe that when I failed to spend quality time with God, I moved farther and farther away from Him. So, I would just continue not to spend time with Him and create an even bigger problem until I was filled with nothing but guilt and a sense of failure. Then I heard a pastor speak on how Satan loves to make us feel far away from God, but that that is a vicious lie. God never moves. He is always right there. We just fail to reach out and encounter Him.

That teaching really changed my perspective. I started noticing Satan whispering these lies to me. “You haven’t touched your Bible in days.” “How can you call yourself a believer when you pray so infrequently?” “You never even think about God.” They were bold lies birthed out of my own neglect of my daily interactions with God that would then get distorted in my own mind to reflect my entire relationship with Him.

It doesn’t work that way. My place as God’s daughter is permanent and is not dependent on anything I do or do not do. It is solely a result of what Christ has already done. However, if nothing else, days like today affirm what I have been learning on this intentional Advent Journey. When I carve out the time to spend time with God, He pours into me and allows me to live out of His infilling. When I don’t, even though my salvation remains intact, God is not “mad” at me, and no condemnation comes my way, I have missed out on the best He had to give me for that day, and I am left to live out of the leftovers of yesterday’s communion with Him.

Father God, I missed my quality time with You today. I don’t really know how it happened, but the day slipped away from me, and the evening was full. I am so grateful that I no longer believe that You condemn me for this or that this means You are now in some far off place where I have to strive to get back to You. Thank You that you have not moved and that tomorrow I get another chance to put You first in my day. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

“Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you.” (Joshua 1:5b)

“Then you call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear your. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29:12-13)

“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” (John 15:4)

December 10. Utterly and completely overwhelmed. Not by Christmas, surprisingly. In fact, Christmas doesn’t seem stressful at all this year…at least not yet. Today, it is inadequacy that has me overwhelmed. In the past couple of weeks, we have had two Early Intervention annual evaluations, one psychological exam, an eye exam, and two well-child checkups…all to evaluate progress or to secure support for our three youngest. I doubt I need to say anything more for my warrior-mom friends to understand, but for everyone else, this basically means that I have been inundated with information about what these kids need to thrive, reach potential, and overcome their challenges. And let’s just say, it is a LOT.

I could take each of these kids and work one-on-one all day everyday and still not do everything they need, especially for two of them. When I combine those tasks with running a home and homeschool and trying to just be a mom to my “typical” kids, and soon I am drowning in impossibility. Throw in a week or two of very bad sleep, and the result is toxic thinking.

The antidote? Go to the One who specializes in impossible. It is amazing what an hour in God’s Word can do to a troubled soul. I still face overwhelming need, a lot of guilt over failure, and not enough hours in a day to make a dent in what needs to be done. But I am calmer now because I have God’s perspective and priorities for me and these children He loves so dearly.

In His words…

1. I know how you feel.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weakness, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15-16, NIV)

2. I will equip you for the tasks to which I have called you.

“May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.” (Hebrews 14:20-21, NIV)

3. Don’t give up.

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” (Hebrews 12:2-3, NIV)

4. Yes, you have made mistakes and neglected some things, but I will set you straight. Accept my discipline and become stronger for it. That will help your children thrive.

“Endure hardships as discipline: God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?…No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.” (Hebrews 12:7, 11-13, NIV)

5. Let go of your guilt and trust me to fulfill my promises to you.

“Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who is promised is faithful.” (Hebrews 10:22-23, NIV)

The “Christmas Story” Scriptures reveal who the Messiah is and why He came:

*to save His people from their sins (Matthew 1:21)

*Immanuel, God with us (Matthew 1:23)

*a ruler who will be the shepherd of His people (Matthew 2:6)

*the rising sun who will come from heaven to “shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace” (Luke 1:79)

*Savior, Christ the Lord (Luke 2:11)

*Son of the Most High (Luke 1:32)

If Advent is a time to anticipate the coming of the Messiah, then part of the necessary–though painful–preparation is becoming acutely aware of how desperate I am.

Dear Lord, I am utterly and completely overwhelmed. So many things need my attention, God, but the sheer volume of it paralyzes me, and I end up accomplishing nothing. Lord, free me from the empty escapes of computers, phones, books, chatter, and sheer unproductivity. Kill the perfectionism that leaves me frozen. Help me stop allowing myself to be pulled in so many directions. Instead, keep my eyes steadfastly on Your will and the plan You have for me and my children. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen

Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10, NIV)

December 9. I have a new habit of going to soaking prayer at our church on Monday evenings during Marina’s orchestra rehearsal. Prior to this year, I had never been to a soaking prayer service. In fact, I vaguely recall being invited to one a few years back and scoffing at the idea. I’m not sure what I envisioned…maybe people sitting in hot tubs praying for each other!?! I don’t do water other than required bathing, so that thought alone would have repelled me.

If I am honest, though, I will confess that the humor was a cover for fear. I imagine my internal monologue went something like this: “Soaking prayer? That sounds intimate, doesn’t it? God may really see something inside me if I do that, and I could really hear what He thinks. I think I’ll pass…”

Fast forward a few years…through several significant life events that left me with a completely different perspective on who God is and what I am seeking in my relationship with Him. Soaking prayer now sounded intriguing. It sounded like something that could meet a need in my life. I can steal moments at home to read Scripture, pray, and write in my journal, but they are rarely quiet, solitary moments…more like bursts of solitude punctuated every few minutes by someone crying, fighting, or calling my name. Needless to say, I was hooked from the first soaking prayer service I attended.

So what is it? Really, it is whatever you want it to be. In our church, it is held in the main sanctuary. There is lighting at the altar, but most of the lights are turned down. There are some candles in the back and little packets of communion available for those who want them. There are prayer flags to lay over your chair if you want someone to pray for you, but that’s completely optional. You can come and go as you please with no one speaking to you, which most nights, is just fine with my introverted self.

The music makes soaking prayer really special. I love the nights that it is live music, usually led by a woman who has a true anointing to create an atmosphere where you can seek God’s presence. She sings some, plays keyboard, prays, and prophesies as God leads her. God has used her gifts to speak to me on several occasions.

When she isn’t there, the facilitators play a soaking music CD, which is a whole genre I didn’t even know existed until I started attending. It is some of the most peaceful music I have ever heard.

There is no wrong way to do soaking prayer. I don’t really pay attention to the others in the room when I am there, but I have noticed that some go to the altar to pray, and others bring pillows and just lay on the pews. I still struggle with being still, so I often have my Bible and journal out and alternate between silent prayer, Scripture reading, and journaling. When I go, I don’t want to leave. The time blesses me so much.

Last night, the service was a little shorter than usual, and I was extremely exhausted when I arrived. Twin sleep issues are still plaguing me, and I have been staying up a little too late writing my Advent Journals, so the quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the room lulled me immediately. I wrote a prayer in my journal like I often do at the start of the service. This one said: “God, give me a fresh anointing. Quiet my Spirit before you, so I can hear you. Speak to me, Lord, in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

I went in expecting some fresh revelation in my Advent study. I thought God would download lots of new insights for me to ponder in the week ahead. I was sure He would not disappoint. Instead, I wrote my prayer, took communion, and promptly dozed off. Time passed without me being aware of it at all—no silent prayer, no Scripture reading, no journaling—just sitting in God’s presence, resting.

I jolted awake just before the time I needed to leave to pick up Marina. Just as guilty thoughts began creeping in to accuse me of falling asleep on God, I heard the leader speak into her microphone: “The Lord says He wants to be with you where you are,” she said. And she began to sing one of my very favorites songs, “Beautiful Things” by Gungor. Some of the lyrics are:

All this pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way?

I wonder if my life could really change at all?

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found?

Could a garden come up from this ground at all?

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

All around

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us…

You make me new, You are making me new

You make me new, You are making me new

Making me new

(Link to this beautiful song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWooIrU5OwI )

I knew that her word was for me. I knew that God was telling me to please not feel guilty. He immediately gave me an image of a little girl with her head leaning against her father’s shoulder, sleeping. I knew then that this is how I did not startle or fall over while I rested. God was right there beside me, holding me up and just being with me, right where I was.

So, He did answer my prayer and give me a fresh anointing. He did speak to me. It wasn’t a list of Scriptures or copious notes I took as He downloaded His truth into me. Instead, it was an invitation to lean on Him and rest. It was an acceptance of me and my exhaustion. It was just what I needed—a Father-Daughter moment that I will remember for a long time—hopefully forever.

Dear Father God, Thank You. Thank You for letting me rest on Your shoulder for a little while last night. Thank You for being with me in my exhaustion and loving me even when all I can do is rest. Thank You that You have changed and are continuing to change me into something beautiful. Thank You that You can work with our messes if we just bring them to You and lay them at Your feet. In Your name, I pray. Amen.

“For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:10-13)

December 8. Someone in my family (who shall remain nameless) recently acquired a new iPhone 6. It is obnoxiously large (more like an iPad than an iPhone), and the owner is quite smitten with it. He has downloaded several new apps and can often be found gazing fondly at this device or exclaiming with delight about some new feature of it that he has discovered.

The latest obsession is a fitness app that tracks caloric output and input. The app allows him to input his meals, tracks how many steps he walks (if he is carrying the cumbersome device with him), and allows him to set goals and track his progress. (I have resisted informing him that I had a similar app on my tiny iPhone 4S about a year ago, which I deleted after about a week…TMI.) Instead, I try to be tolerant and feign interest in his play-by-play of how many calories over or under goal he was after each meal.

However, after about the thirtieth “Guess what?” yesterday that was followed by yet another comment about this fitness app (this one a prediction of how much weight he would gain in two weeks if he continued to consume as many calories as he did at a Christmas party we attended yesterday), I wanted to scream. I couldn’t because two babies were asleep in the same room, but I wanted to. Instead, I mumbled something slightly unkind under my breath. This triggered a thought, and I quickly picked up my journal and wrote the following question to God: Lord, what if we all cared as much about our spiritual condition as we do about our physical condition?

It seems to be a new fad to use a Fitbit or a smart phone app to track our diet and exercise and analyze the information to achieve goals we set for ourselves. We have similar apps to track how we spend our time and our money. They can certainly be useful in helping us to stay healthy, be productive, and manage our finances. Those things are important, but do we give the same thought to our spiritual lives?

What if we had an app that tracked our spiritual condition? How would that report look?

*Broke 5 commandments today

*Prayed for 12.5 minutes

*Dozed off during the sermon 3 times

*Read 2.8 pages of Scripture

*Had 4 impure thoughts

Scary thought, huh? It’s amusing to think about this, but in reality, we do have a Spiritual Fitbit. His name is Holy Spirit, and we don’t have to strap Him to our wrist or download His app to our iPhone. He lives within us and willingly reveals our spiritual condition at any time. We need only ask.

In my experience He does this primarily through two means. The first is conviction. When I attend to the Holy Spirit in me, I know whether I am on track or not. I either have peace about a situation, or I have great angst—possibly even guilt. Jesus said, “Unless I go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. When he comes, he will convict the world of guilt in regard to sin and righteousness and judgment.” (John 16:8, NIV) The question is, what do I do about it? Do I ignore Him, push Him aside, or even grieve Him by blatantly disregarding His guidance? Or do I listen and respond until I know what He would have me do?

Holy Spirit also reveals my spiritual condition by the fruit in my life. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” (Galatians 5:22-23a, NIV) Most of us can recite these (or possibly sing them), but can we produce them? Are they the primary output in our lives? Last summer, I bought a ring at our summer family camp. It was a cheap ring that I fully expected to turn green (but it hasn’t!), and the fruit of the spirit are engraved around the ring. I got it as a constant reminder to look for the fruit in my life. Jesus says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5, NIV)

The technology in our day can be useful. It can also be overwhelming—and sometimes, downright addictive. I often wonder how God will ever break through to our distracted, overstimulated world. But Advent reminds me that He already has. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10, NIV)

Our Christmas gifts may include the latest and greatest technology, but hopefully, we will all remember to attend more to the simple gift the Christ child-turned-man gave us when He departed our world—the Holy Spirit in us—our own spiritual Fitbit.

Lord, let me be as interested in my spiritual condition as I am in my physical or financial condition or my productivity. Especially this Advent season, let me think more about You than about my holiday to-do list. Keep me in tune with Holy Spirit that I may know the truth and bear much fruit. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

 “But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.  Peace, I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:26-27, NIV)

December 7. We are late to church almost every week. The degree of lateness varies. Sometimes we miss a few songs, sometimes almost all of them, and on a good day, we miss only the first one or two. In our defense, we do go to the early service, which makes getting out the door on time especially challenging, but it is the only service with a class that works well for Lydia. So, it’s a choice, but not really.

Today we hit a new low and managed to miss all of worship. Every last song. The band was not even on stage anymore by the time we arrived. Our reward: seats just for us—on the front row. So, not only were we late, but we made sure the entire service noticed it.

Why are we late for church every week, yet we make it on time (mostly) to Scouts and swim practice and music lessons? We even get to debate tournaments and swim meets on time, often in the wee hours of the morning. Part of it is that we do not have to take our entire family to those events. It IS an ordeal to get out the door with three children who are completely dependent for clothing, diapering, food, etc.

But if we are really honest with ourselves, we are late to church because of a lack of discipline. There are all kinds of things we could do to assist us with leaving on time on Sunday morning, but we don’t do them because they would involve things like going to bed early on Saturday night and setting an early alarm on Sundays, precious sleep-in-on-the-weekends Sundays.

What kills me most about being late is missing worship. I love our pastor, and his sermons contain biblical truth and challenging, thought-provoking teaching week after week; however, without worship, I cannot be completely filled. Satan knows this and is thrilled that I cooperate so willingly with him to deprive myself of such an important experience.

In re-reading Matthew’s account of the Christmas story today, God drew my attention to the Magi. After Jesus’s birth in Bethlehem, The Magi went to Jerusalem, looking for him. They asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.” (Matthew 2:2, NIV)

They were in the wrong place, but Herod’s interest was piqued, and before long, Herod sent the Magi out to find the baby and report back to Herod “so that I too may go and worship him.” (Matthew 2:8, NIV) Herod had no intention of worshipping baby Jesus, but he knew that is what he had to say to get the Magi to deliver Christ into his hands.

The Magi followed the star until it stopped over the place where baby Jesus was. “When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh.” (Matthew 2:10-11, NIV)

We always hear about the “wise men” bringing gifts to Jesus, but these passages lead me to believe that what they most wanted to bring Him was their worship. The desire to worship this newly born king of the Jews drove them to seek Him and to search until they found Him. Nothing would stop them, and when they arrived, their gifts were secondary to worship.

We think worship is something we do for ourselves, and that is part of it. Worship allows me to experience the presence of God in ways that other spiritual practices or disciplines do not. However, more than that, worship is the only gift I can give to God. It is the only thing I possess that is worth giving to Him. And when I deprive myself of worship on Sunday mornings, I am failing to give God the one thing I have to offer Him and refusing to accept in return, the gifts He has to give me through genuine worship.

Worship should be as important to me as it was to the Magi. I should seek it; I should pursue it with determination; and it should come first—before anything else, no matter how valuable and worthwhile that thing is. I should seek to worship regularly with my church body, not just try to convince myself that playing a few worship songs on my iPod will make up for missing that part of the church service today. It won’t.

Lord, thank You that You created me to worship You. I am sorry that I have not made worship a priority in my life, especially on Sunday mornings. Help me to start Saturday night to prepare for church and to discipline myself on Sunday mornings to get to church on time. Thank You that Your mercies are new everyday. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; for he is our God and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care.” (Psalm 95:6-7, NIV)

December 6. I knew as soon as I woke up this morning that today would be a day to think about Jesus’s mother, Mary. That’s because it was a Mom-day for me. I know, that sounds dumb. If I homeschool and have eight kids, everyday is a Mom-day, right? Of course. But today, I had the privilege of watching one of my children complete something that took an incredible investment of time and effort. Marina has been preparing a Mendelssohn piano concerto for a competition with her youth orchestra. This morning, after a year and a half of preparation, interrupted by three surgeries, she performed her piece beautifully and actually caused a woman in the audience to come up to me in tears to tell me how much the piece moved her. I am not typically a public crier, but that choked me up!

Most days of motherhood are full…mine typically consist of a LOT of diapers and laundry, pouring copious amounts of milk, looking for lost items, negotiating sibling spats, rescuing children in danger, attempting to complete school plans for the day, and feeding meal after meal after meal. They are happy days, but also days filled with a lot of routine caretaking and not a lot of quiet contemplation. But today, I felt like Mary.

I have always loved the part of the Christmas story where the shepherds hurry to find baby Jesus and share what they had been told about the child by the angel: “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11, ESV). When the shepherds shared this with everyone in the stable, “all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” (Luke 2:18-19)

Mary knew instinctively that she was in the midst of a special moment. And so she paused to gather everything about it safely into her memory and to dwell on the meaning in her heart. That is how I felt watching Marina today—actually, it was how I felt AFTER I watched her. During the performance, I mostly felt like I was going to vomit. But when the teary-eyed woman spoke to me, and when I saw Marina’s enthusiasm afterwards, and once we got home and watched the performance again on video, I began to really treasure it.

Marina didn’t win her competition. I was sad for her and a little indignant, as any good mother would be! But the experience of choosing to do something difficult, putting in hours of work, and then bringing it to completion with poise and beauty was the greater prize.

In my mind, I can still hear Marina playing. I hope the memory takes a long time to fade. And I want more of these moments of treasuring—not just of the happy times but of the struggles and disappointments as well. They are the moments when we see who our children really are—much like Mary did when the shepherds announced the very distinct calling on her baby boy’s life. And while, none of us are mothers to the God of the Universe, we are mothers to young people made in His image. And we, too, have much to cherish and ponder.

Lord, thank You for giving Marina a gift and love for music. Thank You for the opportunity You gave her to play and for all of the dedication she put into selecting, learning, and perfecting her piece. Thank You giving me something special to treasure and ponder today. May I learn to look for these moments even in the day-to-day routine of a very full life. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

“I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving.” (Psalm 69:30)

December 5. Yesterday, a friend posted a link to a blog that I cannot stop thinking about. Part of it tells a story I cannot fathom, and part of it tells a story that is a little too familiar. A young woman, Sarah, who overcame infertility through In-Vitro Fertilization, lost her husband to cancer. She then made the incredibly difficult decision to go ahead with another IVF with the remaining frozen embryos, despite knowing that she would already be raising their son as a single mom. She was blessed to give birth a few weeks ago to a baby girl named Ellis. But two weeks later, Ellis contracted bacterial meningitis and is now fighting for her life in a hospital. Please pray for Ellis in the days ahead. You can read about her here: http://journeyofsarah.com/uncategorized/pray-for-ellis/

I have drafted several letters to this mother in my head ever since I read her story, but the words just fall like snow on a warm sidewalk and disappear. Part of me has nothing to say to her because I cannot comprehend losing my husband to cancer, making that bold choice for life, and then finding myself back on my knees begging for the life of my tiny, new daughter.

Another part of me has lots to say to her because I know what it feels like to make a bold decision for the life of a child and have it spiral out of control—at least out of my control—into what feels like a nightmare. That part of me wants to cry out to her and say, “Just grab onto the Lord and hold on as tight as you can. No matter the outcome, He WILL carry you through. And there will be beauty on the other side, even if you ends up in a completely different place from where you started.”

I also want to tell her that no matter what doctors or MRI’s say, her daughter’s life is just as precious and beautiful and valuable as it was before she got sick. That I, too, became a mom to a little boy and a few weeks later was pleading for his life. That he never spoke or walked, and that his life was too short, but that it was heroic and full of meaning. And that I am also a mom to a little girl whose brain suffered terrible trauma but that she lived and is beautiful and strong and thriving in her own ways. That both lives have produced far more love than pain. But these are things no one can tell you. You can only believe them when you experience them for yourself.

I remember when the tornado hit our property during the summer of 2012, just days after Timothy almost died in our home and was rushed to the hospital and put back on the ventilator. A dear friend came over the next day, and we walked around our yard, surveying the devastation. I have never forgotten her putting her arm around me and saying, “I don’t know, Melissa, but this just feels like too much.” She is a supportive friend with a rock-solid faith, but I knew exactly what she meant. That is the same feeling I had when I read about Ellis yesterday. It feels like too much.

But it wasn’t. It never is. It never has been. It never will be. Because trusting God means trusting Him—No Matter What. And whatever the outcome, He is good (Psalm 34:8), and He is love (1 John 4:16b), and He is unchanging (James 1:17), and He never leaves or forsakes us (Joshua 1;5). He can redeem even the darkest, most hopeless situation and bring good out of it (Romans 8:28). And I am so grateful for the desperate times in my life that drove me to know this for myself.

Lord, as much as I would like to relieve this young mother’s pain with words of reassurance, I know—because You have taught me—that pain is not to be feared or avoided. I boldly join the prayers being offered up for Ellis, but to them, I add a prayer for her mom that she will cling firmly to You as THE source of her strength and that she will trust You to carry her through whatever the future brings.  I pray that You reveal yourself to her in undeniable ways and that Your peace and comfort would guide her every step.  In Jesus’s Mighty Name, I pray. Amen.

“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.” (Psalm 143:8)