A few summers ago, our family spent several weeks in Colorado. Naturally, we hiked. Our kids were not fans. It was, “Too hard, not fun, too hot, not enough snacks,” you name it. We trained our kids not to say, “I can’t do this,” but rather, “I currently struggle with . . .” challenging things. At one point, our daughter commented, “I currently struggle with this mountain.”
Mountain climbing isn’t easy, but I’ve learned one thing that helps me keep going: stopping once in a while and looking back.
When we look back, we see that yes, we actually are making progress. The top is closer. The view is getting better. Just that look back can encourage us to keep pressing on.
As we enter a new year, we do not know what the future holds.
It could be that you are excited about the possibilities. But maybe you’re heading into a new season that is uncertain. Prayers you started last January may sit still unanswered. The path forward might be a tough road. It’s easy to say, “I currently struggle with this,” and want to give up.
So before we move forward, we need to look back.
Recently, I did this with my ministry team at work. On a retreat, we reflected on Joshua 4, when the Israelites crossed the Jordan. After they did, God admonished them to take stones from the river and pile them up in remembrance of what He had done, so that future generations could see His faithfulness.
In the absence of stones, we found a piece of driftwood from the Intracoastal. On one side, we wrote, “we remember . . .” We each took turns writing something God did for us this past year, some way He showed His faithfulness. It was good to reflect on how He has worked good in our lives.
On the other side, we wrote, “therefore we hope . . .”
Therefore. It’s an important word. We hope because we have seen. Looking back, we remind ourselves how far He has brought us. We see that He has been our faithful companion along the path. It is His strength and wisdom that have brought us to this place. He will guide us the rest of the way.
It’s in looking back at His faithfulness that we can move confidently with hope into the future.
When the future looks foggy, look back. When we do, we gain vision for what is ahead. We record the evidence of His faithfulness to chart our way for the future. There will be stones of remembrance to gather when we stop again further down the path. He has loved us too much to stop now. The One who brought us this far will continue on the journey.
Somewhere along the way, I realized it was my parents who filled my stocking, not him. It felt unfair that they filled mine and not the other way around. I wanted to give them a gift.
So a few days before Christmas, I trekked to the flower shop my aunt owned, where I purchased two little apple ornaments. My aunt painted my parents’ names on them for me.
I could barely sleep on Christmas Eve. 3 a.m. seemed like the perfect time for my stealth mission, so I set an alarm. When it chimed, I crept down the stairs and tucked those ornaments into my parents’ stockings.
The next morning, while everyone else dug in, I watched. My parents pulled out the unexpected items and gave them curious stares. Looking back, they must have thought it was a gift from the other, and not the snazziest gift ever. I didn’t care. I was so happy to give them something nothing else mattered.
This story came to mind recently as I look ahead to Christmas. I can see how, in a way, it’s reflective of the nativity.
Because you see, there is no Santa Claus (I apologize to anyone whose child might be reading over their shoulder). But there is Someone who gives and gives, to everyone, everywhere.
Can you imagine His anticipation of Christmas? Not just a few days, or weeks, but years upon years. How did He stand the waiting? He knew what He had in store.
And then, at just the perfect time, He snuck Jesus into the world. What an unassuming package.
Most people didn’t even know what happened that night. Those who did had to wonder, “Is this it? Is this what we’ve been waiting for?” This baby was so unexpected.
I imagine God watching it all unfold, so overjoyed to give us this gift. He knew what it meant for them, and what it would mean for us, 2,000 years later.
I want the exchange of gifts this year to remind me of this truth: He is present in every one of them. We give because He gave. The joy we experience is a pale reflection of the joy He has in seeing His plan fulfilled.
There is no greater gift, and He rejoices to give it to us.
In a Bible study on listening prayer, we were told to ask God, “How much do you love me?” and wait for a response.
While I fully believe God speaks to us, I don’t usually just sit there and wait for an answer. I have more of a “so . . . get back to me on that when you’ve got a chance” attitude. But this time, I just listened and this is what He said: The cross.
Now, I know what Christ did on the cross demonstrates His love for me, but at times it feels a little impersonal. Christ died for me, but He died for everyone. It’s like saying, “You’re unique, just like everyone else.” Who’s to say I didn’t get caught up in the cosmic mix of humanity?
So I said, “God if that’s your answer, you’re going to have to unpack that.” And of course, He did.
A couple of weeks later, I watched the movie, First Knight. As I watched, God said, “Gina, that’s what I did for you. Lancelot diving into the water, jumping through fire, fighting the enemy for Guenevere? That’s what I did at the cross. That desire you have in you for a hero who will sneak into enemy territory, break down the walls, slay the dragon, climb the highest tower because of his love for you – I am that hero.”
The cross was not simply an act of the will, but a passionate, daring, emotion-driven rescue of those He loved more than life itself.
It didn’t start with the cross though. God’s love for us showed up on earth as a helpless, vulnerable baby in the arms of an ordinary girl.
“Long lay the world, in sin and error pining, till He appeared, and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” (best lyric of a Christmas song ever. I will fight you on this).
At that moment, He told us how much we’re worth to Him.
We’re worth being cold and hungry and tired and tempted and tried and misunderstood and hated. He was willing to come through a humble birth to live a humble life in order to rescue us.
And all so that one day, He could be our hero, come to our rescue, and save us from death itself. That’s how much we’re worth.
I hope in all the busyness of this season, we hold fast to that. Feel your worth, friends: worth living for, and worth dying for.
One year, I almost ordered 300 Christmas cards from, “The Carter family.”
We are not the Carter family.
Every year, I chase this elusive idea of a perfect Christmas.
In my scenario, all gifts (and I mean all) are purchased by December 15th at the very latest.
One day of baking suffices for all the places and people who require me to give them creatively arranged sugar.
No child ever asks me to help them get a gift for a classmate/outreach/teacher by tomorrow.
All the cards and gifts for friends are doled out early on, leaving plenty of time to simply enjoy the holidays, drink chai latte, and let Alexa play me Christmas carols all day. I want beautiful family memories, traditions we all love and embrace.
I long for harmonious relationships, the Norman Rockwell family gathered around the fireplace. There is unity, love, and warmth.
But sometimes you almost order cards with someone else’s name on them.
Sometimes you try to make a gingerbread house and it nearly drives you insane.
There are more cookies to make, more gifts to buy, things are out of stock, there are too many parties, and the tree falls over of its own accord (I’m looking at you, tree of 2014).
There’s the awkwardness of unreciprocated gifts and cards, stilted conversations with family members, tiptoeing around the topics we know ruffle feathers.
There is a new empty space at the table.
There are missed flights, disappointed expectations, stressful coordination of schedules and outright painful interactions.
You start to wonder if you could just not participate in Christmas this year.
But there’s still a perfect Christmas to be found.
After all, the first Christmas was an imperfect one, but it still ended well.
I’m sure the Christmas story was not what Mary had planned.
She didn’t want to be an unwed mother, traveling during her last month of pregnancy, forced to give birth in the stench of animals, far from her family.
Joseph never wanted the stigma of his fiancé being pregnant.
He didn’t ask for the hassle of traveling to his hometown.
He wouldn’t have chosen to become a refugee in Egypt to protect his son.
But this is how God orchestrated sending his son to us. And in the end, it was all good, because we got Jesus.
The perfect Christmas is one where we find Jesus.
We do not owe the world a beautifully decorated house or a slew of Christmas gifts.
We can send them a picture that claims we are someone else, and they will still know who we are.
The tree can be lopsided. We can skip parties.
Say no to the strained relationships because they make it too hard to focus on enjoying Jesus.
Go ahead and risk what others will think if you don’t participate in sending Christmas cards or go to another party because your soul needs time to breathe instead.
Step away from the bustle and let him speak to you.
The perfect Christmas is one where we are lost in the wonder of what He has done, and our souls feel their worth.
It’s a Christmas where we search hard for Jesus, and when we find Him, we cling to Him like nothing else matters. Then, in a weary world, we can rejoice.
Let’s chase that with more energy than we chase the outward appearance of it.
So let your Christmas be imperfect to make room for Him.
Leave off one more gift to enjoy His presence.
It’s ok if the ornaments break because He’s still coming.
Step away from what is trying and rest in His peace.
Let yourself soak in the reality that you are loved more than life.
Look for Him, and you will find the perfect Christmas.
