I blinked and the holiday season invaded, this whole world whooshing by. I catch my mind in an ugly state of panic. The new years’ first months, which hold decision deadlines and commitments for which I must prepare, are only three children’s-gift-shopping, two Christmas-parties and a partridge-in-a-pear-tree away.
Each December, my mom pulled a worn cardboard box from the closet. She fingered through the contents, through the layers of creased gift wrap and crumpled tissue paper and last year’s holiday greeting cards. Until she found what she was seeking—a glittery Advent calendar with thumbnail sized doors opening to mini images.
I will always feel grateful for the Thanksgiving none of my adult children could come home. That happened two years ago and changed my perspective on a holiday that focuses on being with family. Not that I didn’t want my family with me. But distance separated us and, for the first time ever, none of my three children would be in Minnesota. I could choose to feel sad and alone. Or I could choose to do something that would make others happy. Something that would fit the spirit of giving and of gratitude.
This devotional spoke of God’s care and concern so powerfully to me, I could barely speak! That the God of the Universe would care for me when at times I feel diminished by the enormity of life! I imagine my response is just one of many who experience something similar upon viewing a worship bulletin.
I was the wife of a pastor for 17 years until he recently changed vocations. We then found ourselves as regular attendees at a new church. Even though we already knew some people at the church, it still took some time to find our way. The ironic thing is, we know church. We know how it functions, how people get connected, why church exists, and we even know some of the more esoteric language of church.
I’ve recently taken a break from teaching Sunday school after twenty-five years or so of continual teaching. As I think about it, I wonder what all the children I’ve taught through the years will remember about me, about my class. Ideally, I want them to remember me as someone who really loved the Lord and loved them and who showed them Jesus.
Until I became a grandmother two-plus years ago, I never fully understood the joy this stage in life would bring. There is nothing quite like being a grandparent. To watch your own child parent his/her son or daughter, to feel that connection of generations is to experience a new type of love.
Crazy, or Crazy Joy? Love Letter from Prison also invites us to dig deep into the scriptures of Philippians and other biblical passages that connect to the themes of joy, humility, friendship, and unity.
LifeMosaic connects God’s story with the lives of each person in the room. And as that happens, each person’s story has the opportunity to connect one with another in a relationship-building setting. Experiencing this interactive study alongside old friends and new brought the Bible alive in ways that couldn’t help but to transform.