I love playing loud music in my car. I’ll listen to just about anything, except angry music. Having a musician yell at me completely stresses me out. My favorite kind of music would best be defined as lighthearted or hopeful alternative music. I like songs that make me feel happy. I’ll take anything with an upbeat tune.

Occasionally when I turn up the radio because I like a song that’s playing my 14 year old will ask me if I know the lyrics. Turns out some songs on the radio have questionable messages. Who knew? I listen to them, sometimes even singing along, without realizing the meaning.

Have you ever sung along without really thinking about what you were saying? Or perhaps you’ve prayed a prayer without really thinking about the words.

I woke up on Ash Wednesday with a prayer in my head that was straight out of scripture. Psalm 139:23 to be exact.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.”

Thinking about the meaning of Lent and reflecting that it was a time for us to humble ourselves before God, I recited the verse in my head a few times. Then I swung my legs over the bed, dug my feet into my slippers, and went about the rest of my day.

That evening I slipped quietly into an Ash Wednesday service. Right up on two very large screens was that very same verse from Psalm 139. As I waited for the service to start, it occured to me that the last line was a very dangerous prayer to pray. “Test me and know my anxious thoughts.”

I’m not a theologian but I can be rather dangerous with the BibleHub app and website and so I can tell you that the word “test” from that verse is the Hebrew word bachan which means to examine, try.

Strong's Exhaustive Concordance defines it as examine, prove, tempt, try trial

A primitive root; to test (especially metals); generally and figuratively, to investigate -- examine, prove, tempt, try (trial).

The same word is used in Zechariah. This time it’s God saying he will test his people like gold. That same metaphor is used again in Job when Job claims that when God has tested him, he will come forth as gold (Job 23:10)

Since I’m quite obsessed with the book of Job I want to share something that I’ve been wondering about this prayer (Psalm 139:23) and what God allowed to happen to Job.

In Job 1:8 God is the one who says of Job “There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.”

If you’re not familiar with the rest of the book, here’s a quick summary: God allows Satan to take away Job’s comforts, his family, even his health, to see if Job will curse God. The rest of the book is Job’s friends trying to comfort him, Job defending himself and questioning what landed him in this terrible situation. Toward the end, God finally speaks to Job and he has a few questions of his own.

And here is what I wonder…in all of his uprightness, is it possible that Job prayed a prayer like Psalm 139:23 without really thinking about what he was saying? AND is it possible that Job still had sinfulness in his heart even in his uprightness? I ask because the final words that he speaks in this book are “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.” Job 42:5-6

Again, I’ve not been to seminary so these are simply wonderings of an amateur Bible reader. I encourage you to do your own reading and come up with your own questions and conclusions. Today, you just get to be a bystander as I wrestle with mine. I will have to wonder these things for a long time since there’s no way of knowing the answer this side of heaven.

I have an innate desire to live in the happily ever after life of having everything figured out (like Job) and yet I’m realizing that God will very likely ALWAYS need to “test” me to refine what is happening in my heart and mind. I’m certainly nothing like Job. Nowhere even close. There will always be ways in which I need to see God in a new way.

But the “testing”? It’s no walk in the park. Why would I pray for that? It’s inviting challenges, obstacles, hard events into my life.

So what’s better…a “happily-ever-after life” less close to God OR going through trials and difficulties that draw me closer to him? Paul would argue in favor of the latter. “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” Romans 5:3-5

Does the “testing” make a difference? I believe yes. Being closer to God is always better. Side note: It’s scary to type that last sentence because it feels like I’m inviting hard things into my life in order to draw closer to God. I have to lean on a few things that I know in order to step outside of the fear that grips me. What I have experienced is that God is always good. He is kind and he loves me (and you) more than I can imagine. I have to trust him, even when things don’t go well for me.

So perhaps we pray that dangerous prayer. Ask God to refine us, test us, to reveal what is in our hearts. In the end we will know him better.

And if you’re already in that “testing” period…the one that feels like it will never end? I wish that I could sit across from you to encourage you. Words seem so trite when we’re walking through hard things. . I can tell you that God is near. He does want good things for you, even if it doesn’t feel like it. It’s worth drawing close to him. Find some people who will encourage you and seek God out in the hardest moments. He never leaves you alone.

Confession time…there was this one time that I shook a knife at my husband. Accidently, of course, but still.

We were cleaning up the kichen. I was washing dishes and Brian was drying. We were having the same circular conversation we’d been having for 12 months. He was rightly frustrated and so was I. My emotions were taking over; I was hurt and angry. The conversation escalated until I was tearfully yelling at him and using my hands to emphasize my point. As it would turn out, I’d been washing a sink full of knives and I happened to be holding one.

After a moment or two he gently suggested that I put the knife down. I was horrified. I hadn’t even realized that I was shaking the knife in his direction.

My emotions had clearly gotten the best of me and I wasn’t even aware of my actions.

Has this ever happened to you? A comment that sets you off and makes you feel anxious or panicked or angry? Perhaps your reaction contains 100% less knife pointing but does damage nonetheless.

Thinking and praying through my fight with Brian, I realized that there was a deeper unresolved issue that I needed to consider. It had nothing to do with him. I guess you could say there was a “trigger” that caused me to have a strong reaction any time that it popped up.

There are two possible solutions to this problem. Brian and anyone else who knows and loves me could learn my triggers and avoid them. They’d have to tiptoe around specific topics, careful not to say certain words. It’s a tricky solution because, in this case, someone else had said the words that triggered me. What Brian experienced was my unresolved reaction to hearing a phrase that caused me pain. This solution also leaves a land mine for anyone who doesn’t know me all that well.

The other possible fix is that I dig in and deal with my issue.

God has a way of bringing me pointed verses from the Bible when I’m wrestling with something of this magnitude. This time he brought me the story of Esau from Genesis 25-33. I get that Esau was not the hero in the story. There isn’t a lot of fanfare about Esau. And yet, I think he played an important part in the story of Jacob/Israel.

Quick recap for those not familiar, Esau and Jacob were twin brothers. They were children of Isaac and Rebekah. Esau was the older brother, Jacob the younger. Isaac and Rebekah both played favorites. Esau was dad’s favorite and Jacob was a mama’s boy.

At some point in their youth, Esau sold his birthright to Jacob. A little while later, while Isaac (dad) lay dying, Jacob deceived his father into pronouncing a blessing over Jacob. In the time of Jacob and Esau this blessing was reserved for the oldest child, so this was kind of a big deal.

Esau was rightly angered at the deception and so in Genesis 27:41 it says Esau held a grudge against Jacob because of the blessings his father had given him. And Esau determined in his heart: “The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob.”

The enneagram eight in me understands Esau’s anger… although I’m not totally on board his plan for murder. My overdeveloped sense of justice meter gets fired up whenever I read this passage because Esau was wronged, Jacob got away with it and then fled.

It’s the next part of Esau’s story that recently surprised me. Genesis continues telling of Jacob’s exploits. We don’t see Esau again until Genesis 33. When he finally comes back into the narrative twenty years later, a lot has changed in Esau’s heart. “But Esau ran to meet him (Jacob), hugged him, threw his arms around him and kissed him. Then they wept.“

I don’t know what God did in the 20 years in between those verses but clearly it changed Esau and he let go of his grudge. He forgave Jacob for the wrongs he had done to Esau. Not only did he forgive Jacob but he ran to meet him.

There’s a similar story in Genesis 37-50 when we learn about Joseph and his brothers (who sell him into slavery). It’s a story of jealousy, deception and forgiveness. Joseph’s story has a beautiful ending because he gets to be the one to forgive and then save his brothers from a famine. Yet the story of Esau has more meaning to me for one very important reason: Esau never gets to be the hero of the story.

Esau is wronged by his twin brother, his birthright is taken from him and he is the one who forgave Jacob before an apology and he’s still not the hero of the story. The most important part that Esau plays in this story is that he ran to hug Jacob and they wept together.

And here is why this matters to me:

What if I’m missing my role in God’s story because I’m holding on to hurt from the past? That’s a sobering thought.

God certainly created me with my justice meter and many times he has asked me to use that trait to accomplish a task. And just as many times as he’s asked me to stand up for something, I’ve been knocked down in the process. I have not been the hero in the story.

And I think I may have been mistaken about my role. I thought the important part was that I stood up…but what if the important part was what happened after? What if my biggest role in the story is running to hug the one who hurt me?

Do you have a trigger? Something that happened in the past that haunts you and causes you pain? Are you holding on and nursing the wound? It’s not easy to let go of the unfairness and the hurt. Honestly, I take comfort in knowing that it took 20 years for Esau to have an opportunity to hug Jacob. Twenty years might be what it takes for God to work out my stuff. But it will only happen if I release it to him.

What would it take for you to release what’s haunting you and to love the other person?

“A new command I give you. Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:35

The context of this verse is so important. Jesus had just sent off Judas to betray him, he’s about to predict that Peter will deny him and he’s facing his own unfair death. And THIS was the command he left them. That they should love one another.

What beauty could be found if we were known by our willingness to run to hug the ones who hurt us? What testimony would it be if we not only forgave but that we embraced and wept together?

*Side note. I know there are situations that I am not close to understanding. Sometimes the best way to love someone is from a distance. I’m not asking you to be in proximity to abusers, to run back and hug them. Any heart work that needs to happen is best done in prayer. God has a way of clearing out the static of well intentioned advice. I’d encourage you to listen to his voice above all the others, especially mine.

17 days into the calendar year…what does that look like for you? Has the newness worn off or are you still holding on to your resolutions? Are you in a season of hope or have gray January days left you in a funk?

Normally I love the flip of the calendar year. Being set back to zero feels hopeful. It offers a world of possibilities. What will the new year bring? What changes do I want to make? Where do I want to grow? What books do I want to read? There are a whole 365 (or 366) days ahead that are filled with possibility. It’s a fresh start.

I felt a little differently as I approached 2020. In the past I’ve worked through a goal planner to kick off my year. It’s pages of work that requires dreaming and hope. It also requires honesty. Where have I come from? What got me there? What can I change to move forward? And each year the process involves picking a word for the year ahead.

Last year, my word was engage. After I’d picked the word, I’d envisioned that I’d engage with new friendships and in my job. Admitting that I was often distracted by my phone and social media, I commited to engaging in the moment. What I didn’t see coming was that it would also involve engaging in hard conversations, facing hard truths and saying yes to things that scared me. At the end of 2019 I was ready to let go of my word for the year. I was ready to stop engaging. So as 2020 approached I was a little anxious. What would be my new word of the year? What hard thing might God be asking me to do?

When I discovered that my word for 2020 was JOY I was thrilled! I was ready for joy to dominate my life. I stepped forward full of expectation.

Yet, capping out the first full week of January, the newness had already worn off of the year. My life was back to the day to day routine. I was finding joy but I had expected it to be different. In a moment of exhaustion and disappointment I asked God if he was near. I felt discouraged.

It’s easy to do. To look at what is happening around us and wonder why God isn’t quickly fixing the problems we see in front of us. We want the big important stories, and laundry and dishes don’t always feel important. It’s human to become discouraged when life happens.

In The Book of Joy Archbishop Desmond Tutu said “…we’ve got to accept ourselves as we are…getting to know what the things are that trigger us. These are things that you can train, you can change, but we ought not to be ashamed of ourselves. We are human, and sometimes it is a good thing that we recognize that we have human emotions.”

I have been discouraged. To pretend that it isn’t true is denying that very human feeling. So instead of denying my discouragement I began to examine where it was coming from. Unraveling the feelings took a little time and tears but then I took the opportunity to lay it all out before God. To tell him my expectations, my disappointments. I told him everything.

God answered that honest conversation in the most unexpected and abundant way. To think of it makes me grin from ear to ear. He didn’t solve my problems. Mundane moments still dominate my day. My life isn’t flashy or exciting. Yet God clearly reminded me that he sees me and that his promises to me are still true.

So sitting with my new word for the year, after definitions and prayer, I realized that I wasn’t yet able to leave behind my word for 2019. I realized that God was asking me to to ENGAGE with joy.

He hasn’t promised that joy will fall in my lap. There is no assurance that 2020 will be a year without trials or hard things. No, God is asking me to look for joy. To look for it in unlikely places. To live in expectation that joy can be found in all things. He is even asking me to bring joy to others instead of expecting that it would be brought to me.

I often walk in expectation that my work, my passions, my day to day is all about me. What brings me joy? Last year I believed that engaging would bring good things into my life. But that’s not what God promised. God never promised that I’d be glorified. In fact, it’s often when I’m glorified that I lose my way. When I stand in the place of glory instead of remembering that ALL OF IT is God, I get stuck and I end up off track.

God did promise that he loves me and wants good things for me. And he loves you and wants good things for you too. Sometimes good things mean obvious blessings and a heap full of happiness. But sometimes the very best thing is hard. Why? Because hard things cause us to grow. Hard things remind us to let go of the idols we’ve been gripping and hold tightly to God. And being near to God IS the very best thing.

As you think of your year ahead, what are your expectations? Are you expecting only good or are you ready for the good growth opportunitites that God has set before you? Can you acknowledge the emotions that make you human and dig deeper to what is causing them?

I’m excited to see what God has in store for the year ahead. We can live in expectation that God is with us and that he has set joy before us.

The coffee shop was a cacophony of noise.  An espresso machine gurgled as it brewed. Milk frothed and foamed, steamed to just the right temperature.  Laptop keys clattered and chairs scratched across the floor. In the midst of it all, my friend and I sat, catching up on travel and the lives of our kids.  We shared life struggles and plans for the coming months. I’d recently been through a challenging season. She listened intently and cooed support.  

Then in a quiet moment my friend looked me in the eye and stuttered out some serious faith questions.  The thoughts started slowly and then words tumbled out. After the doubts surfaced she caught herself and blurted “I just need to push through and get over it.” Tears caught in the corner of her eyes.  

Her questions were familiar.  I’ve asked many of them myself.  I’ve struggled through seasons of silence, feeling far from God.  I’ve wondered if God is good, questioned if I can trust him. I’ve held Jesus at arms length and been mystified by the Holy Spirit. And there are days when thinking about God and eternity has caused me to panic.  Not because of doubt but because my head cannot comprehend the enormity of God, his omniscience and omnipresence.  

Sometimes I struggle through my faith questions on my own, afraid that by sharing them, someone might question the strength of my faith. My instinct and the instinct of my friend is to quickly shut the door on faith questions, to move along and act like nothing is wrong.  

Why do we think we all need to have all the answers? How can we imagine that there will come a time when we will fully understand God and have the ability to explain him? Do we believe that there will be a time when we will no longer wonder or doubt?  

The Bible certainly doesn’t instruct us to live this way.  The book of Job is filled with questions. Questions that Job has for God after experiencing extreme suffering. Job has lost almost everything. He lost his kids, and his possessions.  In the midst of it, he asks why. “Why is life given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?” Job 3:23 NIV

He asks why he should continue to hope, now that he’s lost everything.  “What strength do I have, that I should still hope?” Job 6:11 NIV

He wonders what the purpose is for men on earth, “Do not mortals have hard service on earth?  Are not their days like those of hired laborers?” Job 7:1 NIV

It’s an entire book filled with questions from a man who is suffering.  

It is also a case study in what to do and not do when faced with the suffering of a loved one.  At first Job’s friends sit with him and say nothing. And all is good. Then they open their mouths and get into trouble.  Instead of making space for his suffering and his questions, his friends try to explain it. They answer suffering with truth and not with love.  

God appears to Job at the end of the story, after Job’s friends have completely put their feet in their mouths.  Yet he doesn’t show up and answer all of Job’s questions. He does reveal his presence. He speaks with Job about his character and his presence and he has a few questions of his own for Job.  Finally after all of it, Job recognizes his place in the story and that God has been present in all of it. Chapter 42 contains one of my favorite verses of scripture, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you.”  Job 42:5 NIV

It is in our questions, our doubts that we grow in relationship with God.  When all is stripped away and we realize that God has been present the entire time, we learn to lean on him more and more.We aren’t meant to fully explain God.  We are meant for relationship with him. “I am the vine; you are the branches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”  John 15:5 NIV

I’ve had some big faith questions in my life and I am sure that I will have more.  Thankfully, God has given me safe people who dig into my questions. Women who never shame me.  Friends who listen, ask questions and then reflect their own experience. They point me to scripture and resources and I always leave the conversation encouraged.  They’ve made it okay to wonder, doubt and question. And they’ve taught me to do the same for others.  

On that day in the coffee shop, as I sat across from my sweet friend and the tears spilled over, I was able to say “Those are some incredible questions.  I don’t think you need to push through and get over it. Tell me more.”  

I’m walking out of 2019 with a limp. Not literally…it’s a figurative limp. Just in case you got worried for a second.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not counting 2019 as an awful year. There are too many good things that happened for which to be thankful. It’s just that some of the unexpected events of 2019 have left a permanent mark and I’ll never walk through life the same again. I struggled through most of 2019 feeling lost and uncertain. Honestly, I’m eager to move into 2020.

As I’ve been processing 2019, I’m saying good-bye to the things I need to leave behind; grieving a job, relationships, and dreams. I’ve also realized that there is one thing that I received in 2019 that I am not willing to let go. My struggles of this past year have left an awareness of God’s presence in the small moments. I see his handiwork more and more each day. I feel him drawing me forward into 2020, stronger. I’m not stronger because of who I am. I am stronger because for the first time ever I recognize that I can’t do this on my own. I’m more fully aware of my need for him and that’s not something I’m willing to leave behind in 2019.

So as I reflect on 2019 and step into 2020, I’ve written a prayer for myself that I’d like to share with you. Perhaps there are some things in my prayer that resonate with you.

Prayer for 2020.

God let this be a year in which I seek your voice above the wisdom and opinions of others. Let my goal be to bring you glory instead of bringing me glory.

May I be so familiar with your voice and your ways that I know counterfeit messages when I hear them.

May I truly trust you with who I am and what I do. Protect me from shrinking back to fit into any box that others have designed for me. Guard me from creating false images to impress others.

Let this be the year that I stop waiting for a stamp of approval from “them” (whoever they may be) to step into my calling. Please continue to remind me that you’ve already unleashed me into the world.

God, I will face moments in 2020 that will cause me discomfort. Remind me that you are near. Help me to trust your plan for my life. Draw me closer to you in these moments.

LORD, I will also face sweet moments of joy. Let me truly experience them and then thank you for the gifts you give. Help me to lean into the joy and share it with those around me.

Let 2020 be a year in which I find joy in the small and unimportant things.

Be near to me in the big things. Help me to stay close to you in those moments so that I don’t become distracted.

God help me to enjoy my “people,” but not so much that I fail to see others around me. Let my #squadgoals always involve friends I have yet to meet.

God, whatever power I may possess, let me use it to elevate others and not for my own personal gain.

LORD, you know the future. You know what I am facing. Be near to me and work through me in 2020 so that in all things others may know you more.

That’s all for now,

Sarah

This reflection started as I worked through an exercise called Hello/Good-bye by Lead Stories podcast. It’s an incredible tool to help to say good-bye to the necessary things of 2019 and step into 2020 with hope and intention. You can find their amazing resource here.

My grandfather died on a day in early December when I was seventeen. Less than six days prior, he’d been belting out Joy to the World at my older brothers wedding and lamenting that he couldn’t dance at the reception because of his “ticker.” Little did we know that less than a week later that same “ticker” would give out in a grocery store while he was buying bread. Christmas that year had a lot less laughter and felt a little more somber.

That’s the reality for a lot of people at Christmas. Tragedy strikes at inopportune times. Cancer treatments still take place over the holidays and there will always be a family experiencing a first Christmas without someone they love. I feel like each new day brings a hard story filled with grief and struggle. It’s hard to reconcile the joyfull trappings of Christmas with the tough stuff of life.

Yet as I look closer at the Christmas story and the Old Testament prophesies, it’s exactly those hard stories that mean so much at Christmas. Jesus was sent as Immanuel, meaning “God with us.” So much of the Bible is the story of “God with us” and it all crescendos at the Christmas story and Jesus birth.

If you want a great resource to learn more about “God with us” in the Bible, I’d highly recommend the She Reads Truth podcast, Advent-Week 2, episode 4. But a real quick review: God was with Adam and Eve in the garden, with the Israelites in the desert and David wrote so many psalms about God’s nearness. The Old Testament is filled with all of the ways that God was with his people.

Jesus didn’t come to earth so that we could create a holiday. Jesus took on human form because God didn’t want his people to go through the darkness; the wilderness, alone. He wanted to draw us back to him. There was only one way to do that and it all started at Christmas.

Christmas begins Jesus life here on earth and ends with his death and resurrection. Christmas isn’t just about baby Jesus in the manger, it’s also about the cross of Good Friday and the empty tomb of Easter.

Which is all lovely religious talk, but what does that have to do with the hard stuff here on earth?

What I recall from the aftermath of my grandfathers death was that for months afterwards I felt like I had someone watching over me who was always on my side. Maybe I’d be driving and someone would cut me off and I just felt like I could say to grandpa, “Did you see that? What a jerk!” I could talk to my grandpa about hard things and I felt like he was near.

Now, I don’t want to get into the theology of whether or not my grandpa was actually watching over me but what eventually came out of that experience is that I finally understood “God with us”. God is that always available person, who is FOR me and always willing to listen.

In this season, one where it’s tough to live in the tension of sparkle and joy and happy songs yet surrounded by stories of grief and loss, I can remember that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18 NIV)

That’s the wonder of Christmas and the reason I’m changed. I recognize his sacrifice, the cost to him that he became human, and I experience his nearness in my hard moments and in the joy too. Experiencing this has changed me.

Celebrating Christmas isn’t about lights, or trees or food. Celebrating Christmas is for a quiet moments remembering that God changed everything to be near to us.

Takeaway Time

Experiencing God’s presence is a practice. Take a moment: could be five minutes, it could be 30. Start by acknowledging God’s presence. Maybe sit in a chair, pull out another and imagine Jesus is sitting across from you. Or turn off your radio when you’re driving alone in your car and pretend that Jesus is in the passenger seat.

Then talk to him out loud. What do you want to say to him? Do you want to ask him questions? Maybe you want to tell him about something good that happened. Or maybe you’re really mad at him for stuff that’s been happening in your life. Tell him any of those things.

Do you feel any different after you talk to him? If you do, write it down. If you feel nothing, write that down too. Practice this until Christmas day.

He’s near and he’s listening. Practice spending time with him.

Are you an innkeeper or a shepherd? That’s the question I’ve been asking myself lately. Sticking with the Christmas story from Luke, I wonder which one of the characters I would be in the story.

Let’s reread it shall we?

A lot has been made of the innkeeper that isn’t actually said in scripture. He’s been made a villian. Poor Mary shows up at his doorstep, very pregnant and he turns her away. This is shown in videos, and played out on stage. I’ve also heard that the innkeeper is generous. He didn’t have room in his house so he made room where he could.

Actually, the innkeeper isn’t even named in Luke. It simply says “and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” Luke 2:7

Whether or not there was one mean innkeeper or many people who didn’t have a guest room in their home, it really doesn’t matter.

The bottom line is that one night, in the town of Bethlehem, Jesus was born and there was no room for him.

Each person in that town went about their business as usual, unaware of what was happening right in front of them.

And then we have the shepherds. My NIV version of the Bible says that the shepherds were living out in the fields nearby. They were living without room. Their status was as humble as possible. As I wrote about last week, an angel appears, their lives are disrupted and they find Jesus. After they find him “they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the sheperds said to them.” Luke 2:17-18

One thing that I wonder…how far out of town were those shepherds? Was it so far off that the chorus of angels couldn’t be visible in the town? Or is it possible that the people in Bethlehem missed the angels outside their window?

Unlike the town of Bethlehem and the innkeeper, the shepherds lives are turned upside down that night and they live it out.

So am I the innkeeper or the shepherd? Recovering the wonder of Christmas is about more than enjoying quiet moments. It’s about more than inviting God into my life, giving him time in the morning and then going on with my day. Honestly it’s about more than just basking in God’s love for me, though I do think that’s a VERY good thing.

Recognizing that God loves us so much that Christ came down is the very beginning of Christmas. But there’s more to the story.

God is a disrupter. He disrupts our plans. He invites us into his story so that others can be amazed at how we’re changed.

Have you ever wondered what changed in the shepherds that night? In verse 17 and 18 it says “When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and ALL who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.“

What would it take to be more like the shepherd?

The shepherds were living in humility. They already knew their status was low. They weren’t trying to pretend it was anything other than what it was.

So when the angel showed up and they found Jesus, they had no choice but to share what they had seen and heard because it changed them. God changed them.

Do I recognize my own humanity? Can I see that I’m in need of Jesus all the time? I can’t do enough good things to ever earn God’s love. And yet God loves me (and you) enough that he generously made a way for us to be with him. Does that news overwhelm me enough that I want to share it? Does it change me every time I think about it?

This week on social media I started a little project called Mission Monday. The idea is that every Monday I’ll take on a mission for the week to live out the truth that to love God means that we also love people. It’s based on Matthew 22: 37-40 “And He said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments depend the whole Law and the Prophets.”

The two go hand in hand. If we love God but we’re crappy to the people all around us, we aren’t being like the shepherds. People might be amazed by us…amazed at how unkind we are perhaps. But they won’t want to follow Jesus.

And if we love people but we don’t love God, we’ll rely on our own viewpoints and perspective. We may love those in our lives who are lovable, but what about the ones who are difficult? Without God we may be able to love others for a time, but our patience, our endurance to keep going will wear out.

I want people to watch my life, every single part of it and want to know more about God. I want to love the people in front of me the way God asks me to. Like the shepherds I want people to see a change in me and be amazed.

This week, let’s show the world that Christmas has changed us…in a way that will leave people amazed.

Takeaway Time!

Think of someone in your life who is difficult. Perhaps it’s someone you work with, or maybe it’s a person on Facebook who has political views that are polar opposite of your own. It could even be someone in your family.

Now I want you to pray for them. Pray for blessings on them. And then, would you ask God to help you see something good in this person? Something beautiful?

This last request is big…would you find a way to tell that person the beautiful thing you see? Maybe it takes all of your bravery to write it in a card or text it to them. Or maybe you’re feeling really courageous and you’re able to speak something beautiful to them. Whatever it takes, try to speak life into this person. Do it without expectation. He or she may receive it with grace and be grateful. It may be the beginning of something awesome. It could also fall flat. It doesn’t matter what the outcome is. What matters is that you’re listening to God, letting him change you and living out of that place. God controls how it’s received. Let that be enough.