Christmas seems to amplify everything.

Goodness seems extra good. The evening and morning news love to run feel-good pieces this time of year. These special stories are so heart-warming, people being reunited just in time for Christmas, miracles happening in the hospital, people making beautiful sacrifices for others. Because it’s Christmas, these stories seem extra good.

On the flip side, evil seems extra evil. People getting trampled in shopping malls, house fires in which families lose everything, children abandoned and alone, people dying too young. When something bad happens during this season, it seems extra sad, extra tragic.

When we gather with family and friends, their love seems so special in December. When we look at our children, opening their gifts and singing their Christmas songs, we feel a surge of joy and thankfulness for their health. If we have an abundance of food and shelter and security, Christmas overflows with these material comforts even more. If it’s been a good year, Christmas seems extra good.

But this amplification works the other way, too. If we’re lonely, Christmas makes us extra lonely. If we’re depressed, Christmas is especially difficult. If we’ve lost someone, December is a month of compounded grief. If we’re struggling to stay afloat, this season can almost drown us. If it’s been a bad year, Christmas seems to make all that pain more acute.

I keep hearing people’s stories, heartbreaking ones. Stories of grief and loss, stories of heartbreak and struggle. Almost every day I add someone to my prayer list, someone who’s lost a loved one, struggling under a burden, or trying to make a tough decision. I think about it all, and it makes me feel hopeless.

But God calls us to hope, because hope is a by-product of faith. Hope is a fruit of our belief. Hope expresses faith.

When those angels came and shouted jubilantly to those shepherds…

“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests”

…they weren’t talking about the fact that God had made the world a peaceful place. Those angels were exclaiming that Peace came to earth: a Savior from sin, from this sinful world.

“For today in the town of David a SAVIOR has been born to you, his is Christ, THE LORD! (emphasis mine).”

God never promised a peaceful or perfect earth, but through Jesus, he saved us from this fallen place. No matter what happens here, no matter what kind of Christmas we’re having, one day we will leave this world and all of its troubles. Everything wrong will be right. Every tear will be wiped away. Every feeling of loneliness, sadness, grief, pain, and despair will vanish. And the joy…oh the amplified joy!…that will be ours.

In the meantime, we must follow the lead of those shepherds, who didn’t just sit with the news they heard. They ran with it. First to the manger to worship, then to the city to share it.

Some happy things happened today:

1. My daughter and I played a duet together before church, as part of the preservice music. The sight of her head bopping next to me, the thrill and pride on her face when we were done. It was too much.

2. My son, in his little red plaid tie, catching sight of me from his view on-stage…the humungous smile that lit up his face when he found me in the crowd.

3. My son, in his little red plaid tie, with his finger up his nose no less than four separate times while singing Away in the Manger with all his might.

4. Waking up in a small puddle of drool. My afternoon cat nap was just that good.

5. The wind in my hair as I stood through a friend’s sunroof, camera on the roof of his car, capturing the sight of our school’s 17,000 Christmas lights on video.

Sometimes I forget that Christmas is supposed to be fun, a season of gratitude and praise. Since Jesus came to earth to take away my biggest problems, I really can relax. I can give thanks. I can praise, for blessings both great and small.

Sometimes I drag Christmas around with me like a huge burden. All I seem to think about is my busy schedule, my to-do list, all the expectations. I was talking to a fellow mom about this at school the other day, about how Christmas is just plain crazy sometimes. And she just stopped the conversation with this statement, “It’s not supposed to be like this. Christmas is not supposed to be like this.”

Christmas is a season for joy, no matter what we are going through, no matter what is on our plate. I think of Anna and Simeon, who despite their long lives of service and waiting, had praise on their lips when they caught sight of Jesus in the temple. I think of the shepherds who dropped everything to run to the manger and then told everyone they could. I think of the Wise Men who journeyed far to kneel before Jesus, to present them with not only gifts, but praise and worship. I think of Mary treasuring it all up in her heart, marveling over the wonder of it all.

Where is that in my life? Where’s the praise? Where’s the gratitude?

Praise the LORD, my soul, and forget not all his benefits (Psalm 103:2). 

I’ve noticed that a funny thing seems to happen when I practice gratitude…there’s more gratitude. The same happens with praise. When I pick out one tiny light, I see another and another and another. The more I see, the less room there is for the dark things like worry and greed and doubt. Things begin to change in my heart, and suddenly, I realize that I am surrounded by thousands of lights: big ones like grace and forgiveness, tiny ones like duets and drool-inducing naps. So many, many lights, all coming from one source, one Light, one merciful God.

Jesus is the light of the world, the light no darkness can overcome. 

Stay with us, Lord, for it is evening, and the day is almost over. 

Be our light and scatter the darkness, and hear our evening hymn of praise. 

(Service of Light, Christian Worship Hymnal)

I finished writing out my Christmas cards today. I penned the addresses, while my daughter licked them shut and plastered on the holiday-themed stamps. We worked silently, side-by-side, on our long, two-person desk looking out into our back patio. We worked in our jammies, with the windows cracked, enjoying a sixty degree breeze. A pleasant way to spend the morning.

It wasn’t long before I realized something: so many people moved this year. After years of sameness, there were so many entries I crossed out of my address book, so many people I had to message on Facebook or text to get their new addresses. It was a year of change, of movement.

For our family it was, too. Although we have lived here in Miami for more than two years, my life looks a lot different this year. Both my kids are in school, I’m a working woman, and we live in a new house. Subtle things have changed, too, like the way we spend our weekends, the people I see during the course of the week, the way our evenings flash by in a routine of homework and supper and bedtime.

When I was young, I thought that life got pretty boring after you got married and had a few kids. The thing I’ve learned, however, is that life is rarely boring. It is full of change, ever moving. As we approach the holidays, those Christmas cards start trickling in from all over the country, bringing with them evidence of change: cousins are getting married, college friends are on child number 3 or 4, and we all look…older.

The constant in our lives is change. Some days it makes me feel slightly panicked, some days nostalgic. I’m so happy God is the same every day that I wake up. Every day his love is the same. Every night, his forgiveness is waiting. Every hard time, every good time, he is listening and guiding and working through it all. I always know where to find him, because he is always there. He never up and moves on me, never makes me track down his new address.

And every year, His holiday card is the same: Jesus, for me, for you, forever.

Tonight, my family and I ventured out to Doral’s Holiday Lights and Ice Extravaganza. It’s an annual Christmas event at the biggest park in town complete with food trucks, carnival rides, and entertainment. The highlight of the event is the tons of snow they haul in for our Miami kids. They even set-up these large bubble machines that blow pretty-realistic “snowflakes” in the air. They also heap up a pretty pathetic sledding hill.

The kids had a blast. They chased the “snowflakes,” trying to catch them on their tongues (put a pretty quick end to that). We waited our turn to go down the “sledding” hill on an inner tube. Ezra rode on my lap, his whole body shaking with belly laughs as we spun down the hill (for 3.4 seconds). And then the kids played in the mounds of snow, almost getting kicked out of the 4-6 year old area for having a “snowball fight” with each other (I was secretly cheering them on).

It was completely fake. I don’t mean to sound like a scrooge, because it really was a fun family evening, I just have a hard time swallowing that attempt at reproducing a winter wonderland. It was all pretty ridiculous for a girl who grew up in the Midwest, even for one who doesn’t miss those Midwest winters.

The whole night was really a dead-on metaphor for what Christmas has become. Without Jesus, you can’t reproduce the kind of life-changing joy that Christmas touts. Without a Savior, where’s the hope? Without Immanuel, there simply is no peace on earth. Without Christ, Christmas is like that fake snow: it’s not real, it’s not that deep, and it’ll be gone in the morning.

If I’m not careful, that’s exactly what Christmas can become. When I let the hustle outweigh the prayer, the presents outweigh the gratitude, and the outward adornments outweigh the inner prep, well, that kind of Christmas isn’t a real Christmas at all.

I’m taking my kids to Wisconsin this year. I want them to know what real snow looks like, the kind of Christmas wonderland you see in the movies. I want them to have a real snowball fight, to take a sled ride that lasts more than 2.4 seconds, and to catch non-toxic snowflakes on their tongue.

I also want to have a real Christmas, one with Jesus in it. Because any other kind of Christmas is just like Miami snow.

Some people say gift cards are the pits, like the worst gift ever. You can pick one up anywhere: Target, the grocery store, even the dirty little drugstore on the corner. Some people say giving a gift card doesn’t require enough effort on the part of the giver. I, personally, think gift cards are the bomb-diggity. I love picking out exactly what I want, especially since I don’t often have the extra income to plop down at my favorite stores, no guilt attached.

That being said, my favorite gifts have most definitely not been gift cards. In no particular order, my favorite gifts have been:

1. Any painting my sister Stephanie has ever given me.

2. The necklace my sister Jenni gave me, a chain with a delicate gold disc engraved with my initial.

3. The birthday card my brother wrote me last year.

5. The bike I got for my fifth birthday. It arrived magically on our doorstep overnight. When I opened the front door in the morning, it was there, glowing in the morning light in all its Huffy perfection.

6. My engagement ring, one that I had no hand in designing or picking out or trying on, but is exactly the right one.

These are the gifts that caught me off guard or that made me cry. They are the gifts that I pause to admire day after day. They are the gifts that I savor in my memory. Some of my happiest childhood memories are tearing around my neighborhood for hours on that bike. Free as the wind.

There’s a whole other set of gifts that I’ve been given. My Father is responsible for these. As I sat down today to practice piano for church on Sunday, I thought about how grateful I was to be able to sit down and play. I’m thankful that God gave me musical ability. I’m also thankful for my love of reading and writing. I’m thankful that I can lose myself in a good book or picking out the right word.

I’m so thankful for the gifts that God has given other people. One of my favorite things is to watch people who have found their gifts and are totally immersed in them. To watch someone who is doing exactly what they are created to do, that is a thing of beauty, no matter what it is…A mother who delights in mothering. A teacher who perseveres, who delights in learning himself and passes on that love to students. A leader who uses his influence for good. An artist who shares the bigger picture with those of us stuck in our small little worlds. A woman whose quiet grace is the backbone of her family. A psychologist who passion for learning and history of hurt moves her forward to help others find healing.

I’m not talking about perfect people. And maybe these people I’m thinking of don’t feel like they have any idea of what they were created to do. I’m talking about people who are cracked and broken, busted up and hurting themselves. I’m thinking of those that have fallen flat on their faces, whose sins look just like everybody else’s. But they keep using their gifts because they love God. And they know God has the power and the mercy to make some really beautiful things using broken people.

But by far the best gifts are the gifts that God gives us. For sure, that’s our Savior, sent to us on Christmas. It’s his grace, which is boundless. It’s his forgiveness, which is bottomless. It’s his peace, which passes our understanding. It’s heaven, which knows no end. These things cannot be taken away. They are limitless and perfect.

I feel all filled up right now, humbled to the point of tears. I have so much, Lord. So much material good. So many beautiful people. So much spiritual blessing.

Lord, keep this gratefulness in my heart. Please let it overflow so that I use every gift you have given me to serve you and all of your beautiful, broken people. Father, above all, direct me to your most perfect gifts, the ones Jesus came to give me. Help me to remember that you give me exactly what I need, no matter what it looks like in my eyes. Thank you for all the people in my life that bless my life by using their unique talents. Keep them in the palm of your hand. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” (James 1:17).

In church on Sunday, we spent a long time confessing our sins. It wasn’t the usual liturgy, words that I sometimes recite out of rote memory. Our confession of sins was a song led by our worship band with readings by our pastor interspersed throughout.

Advent has long been the season for repentance, which is not a fun thing to do. It’s uncomfortable, horrifying really, to sit and meditate on all the ways I’ve messed up, fallen short, hurt others, offended my God…especially when it’s the same sins I confess over and over again, week after week.

But confession puts me in my place. It makes me realize just how much I have failed. Confession makes me realize my need, a need my pride doesn’t want to admit I have.

When I realize how horribly I’ve fallen short, I know that something else, someone else, has to save me. When I sit with my sins I realize just how much I need Jesus.

When I was a child, this whole “Advent is the season for repentance” thing really seemed weird in the middle of the joyful Christmas season. What a dreary thing to do surrounded by the joys of December! But the older I get, the more I realize that there’s no better way to prepare for Jesus than to know how much you need Him.

“Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. Because of your wrath there is no health in my body; there is no soundness in my bones because of my sin. My guilt has overwhelmed me like a burden too heavy to bear. All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. I confess my iniquity; I am troubled by my sin. Lord, do not forsake me; do not be far from me, my God. Come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior.”

“God is Light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we walk in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not with us. If anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Fiather – Jesus Christ the Righteous One. his is the atoning sacrifice for the sins of the whole world.”

“God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. You are forgiven.”

After this season of confession and repentance, this season of need, there’s no bigger joy than to see your Savior.

“She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

Yesterday I posted the first half of the Advent by Candlelight devotions that I wrote for our church, so today I’m sharing the second half. The program is called, “With Us.”  

“Love’s Pure Light”

The relationships we have with one another meet a great need within us: the need for love. We were created to interact with one another, to have relationships, to support each other, to love one another. We show our love to family and friends by being there for each other and by spending time together.

Our children know that we love them when we play with them, teach them, cuddle with them. We show our love to our spouses by promising to spend our lives with them. We show our friends love by being there with them to celebrate good times and to support in bad times. We show love by being with those we love.

God shows his love to us in the same way. He is not a distant God, he is a God that is with us. He loved us so much that he came to earth on Christmas. And he continues to show his love to us by living within us, in our hearts, as the words of Ephesians tell us:

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

No matter what you are going through right now, no matter what difficulties or pain you are experiencing this Christmas season, Jesus is with you:

Are you sad? He is ready to comfort you.

Are you feeling guilt? He offers forgiveness.

Are you despairing? He gives hope.

Are you tired? He will give you rest.

Whatever it is, Jesus is with you. He is, as a familiar carol says, “Loves Pure Light.” Even in our darkest moments, in our sin, our doubt, our grief, Jesus shines brightly through all of it with the light of his love.

With Us Forever

Light is a symbol of hope, of truth, and of joy. Light is also a symbol of presence.

At Christmastime, light is a beautiful reminder that Jesus, our Savior that set aside the glories of heaven to come to this cold, dark world to be the Light of the world. As John says, “In him was life, and that life was the light of men. That light shines in the darkness.”

As we look around at the Christmas lights, at the candles that flicker on our tables, let these lights remind you that Jesus is with us and will return one day in all his glory. And in heaven, the Bible tells us that we will need no sun or moon or stars because “God himself will be their light.” We will live WITH HIM forever in the light of his love.

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.” Revelation 21:3

He will be forever with us.

(Silence for reflection. Candlelight ceremony).

Because He Loves Us

This is a season for celebration. This is a season for peace, hope and great joy. This is a season to gather with your loved ones, with your family, and with your friends. When you gather together with one another, pause to savor this togetherness. These connections are echoes of your connection with God.

Jesus came 2000 years ago to save us. Through faith, Jesus lives in our hearts right now. And one day, because of what Jesus did, you will see him face to face in heaven.

Hang on to these four simple words this Christmas and every day of the new year:

God is WITH US.

I just got home from our annual Advent by Candlelight program. It was a wonderful time with friends and for reflection. I feel all filled up. I wrote the program, so I’m stealing the first two parts of it for my post tonight and will post the other sections for tomorrow’s post. 

As I look around this room, I realize that this is one of the best parts of Christmas. Friends and family sharing a meal, sharing an evening. I watched as you embraced each other, welcomed each other with a hug, a smile, a kiss on the cheek. I watched as you gathered here, laughing with each other, sharing stories from your day, commiserating about your problems, offering support, a smile, a squeeze. I watched as you moved over to let another person around your table and into your conversation.

One of the best parts of Christmas is this, what’s going on in the room right now. One of the best parts of Christmas is being together.

Being together is the focus of many of our Christmas celebrations, isn’t it? We plan parties, cook meals, exchange presents, travel long distances, all to be near those that we love. Being with those we love fills us up, doesn’t it? We need love, understanding, and support. We need connection.

God tells us in his Word that connection is the reason the whole world began. God created the world and everything in it, but he wasn’t finished until he made us. We, as humans, are the most special part of creation because we were made not only to connect with one another, but to connect with God, to have a relationship with Him. Simply put, God made us to be with us.

God with us is the theme of our Advent by Candlelight service tonight. You will hear this message in the words of our devotions and in the words of the Christmas carols that are sung, but most of all, you will hear it in the words of the Christmas story, the story of God with us.

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It’s been said that Christmas can be summed up in just four words:

God. is. with.us.

That’s what we sing about in every Christmas carol, like the one we just sang:

“Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel…God with us…shall come to you, O Israel!”

or in these familiar words:

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come!”

It’s what we see in the decorations all around us: the lights in the darkness symbolize Jesus coming into this dark world of sin, the presents under the tree represent the fact that the presence of Jesus is God’s gift to us, the evergreen trees are a sign that God is always with us, ever-living.

Most of all, the words of Christmas, the story of Christmas, reminds us that God himself came to be with us to save us, just as he said he would.

Listen to the words of Luke 2:

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

When the angels announced that there was “peace on earth” they meant it literally. Peace had literally been born that night. Peace is what lay in the manger. Peace is what the shepherds ran to see.

Jesus is our peace. Through his life and death, he restored the relationship between God and man. Because of Jesus, we have the peace of knowing that our sins are forgiven, the punishment is paid for, and the hope of heaven, of a reunion with God, is possible. That peace, that restored relationship, is our joy this Christmas and always. Joy to the World, the Lord HAS COME!

I should have written today’s blog post right when I got home from church this morning. It was such an inspiring Advent service. Our praise band led the worship, so the lyrics of old, familiar songs hit me in a fresh way. My pastor’s sermon was all about keeping Christ in Christmas. And the liturgy and prayers and confession of sins and readings all spoke to me. As I sang the last hymn, at least six blog ideas were circling in my mind.

But after church I caught up with friends and ran some errands. I napped on my beloved couch and took my kids to a birthday party a half hour away. I got home and did some work on my laptop. And now I sit here, scratching my head, looking for all the inspiring ideas that flew out the window between the last hymn and the Sunday Night Football theme song.

If normal life is distracting, life during the Christmas season is doubly so. I find myself sitting here with my laptop and God’s word, finding strength and clarity, but then I go about my days, unlearning everything I just wrote. It’s the same with confessing my sins to God each day. I offer them up to my Father, asking for forgiveness, only to return to those same sins within hours. I write a Christmas program about focusing on the real beauty of Christmas, only to lose track of that beauty as I run around getting ready for it.

What a wretched man I am. The good that I want to do, I do not do it. That I do not want to do, I do…

I am such a sheep. I follow my shepherd. I know his name…but oh what a pretty flower that is! Now I’m going to chase that squirrel! What’s that shiny thing?! Except I’m a human, and this Christmas I wander around all the shiny new things to buy or my all-important to-do list or vegging out in front of Netflix or whining about my latest worry…until I look up and have no idea how I got here, unable to remember the beautiful point my pastor made in Bible study this morning in church.

This is exactly why I have to write this blog everyday this December. I am distracted so easily. I lose track of the point. I get wrapped up in the unimportant. I do the unnecessary. Martha, Martha, you are concerned about many things…

This is why I go to church every week, because during the six days in between, I forget. This is why I confess my sins, again and again, because in the 23 hours in between, I relapse. I read God’s Word, the same things over and over, because the world has so much conflicting and distracting and confusing ideas and situations. I come again and again because I need to. There’s no way around it, no quick fix, no one-stop shops. This side of heaven, I am and always will be such a sheep.

God tells us to stay close to him, not just because he desires our worship, our thanks, and a strong relationship with him. God tells us to read and confess and praise and give thanks regularly because he knows that we need his constant reminders and guidance. He knows that we are sheep.

Dear Lord,

Help me to stay close to you this Advent season and all year long. I am sorry for become distracted from your truths again and again. Every day I wander. Lord, thank you for rescuing me from myself. Thank you for coming here to earth to take away all my sin. Thank you for your mercies that are new every morning and for the beautiful, ever-present truths of your Word. Be with me as I travel this road to Christmas, and keep me close to you. In your name, Amen.

I did the crazy-mall-in-December thing today. I went early, armed with my coupons and a game plan outlined on my phone. I wore comfortable shoes. I was hydrated. Game on.

Somehow I still ended up in the dressing room, two hours in, texting an SOS to my husband: “I very overwhelmed.” (I was no longer speaking in full sentences at that point).

I wasn’t in the dressing room trying anything on. I was in the dressing room to stop my head from spinning. I needed to take stock. I needed to sit down.

My husband answered my text quickly, as a captain to a field agent: “Get out of there.”

It was a war zone out there, with the noise and the sale grenades and the swarms of determined, cranky people. One cashier was so rude, I asked to speak to the manager. Unfortunately, he was the manager. Driving home, on that outer death circle of a road around the mall, I almost got hit. Twice. I saw a lot of, um, interesting gesturing going on as people stole parking spots from each other and cut each other off, merging into the aforementioned death circle.

I spent the last paragraph pointing a lot of fingers at the crazy mall people, but I’m one of them. I’m not even a week into December, and I’ve already seen myself lose my cool, perhaps more privately, but it’s there. The short-temper, the impatient sighs, the eye-rolling I do in my head.

I met a lady in Target last week who saw me with my children, made a comment about how cute they were, and then proceeded to look me right in my eyes. She encouraged me to love them, thanked me for raising them, and then blessed me with the old Irish blessing. She gave me a hug and went on her way, leaving me quite speechless in the party supplies aisle. And as I wheeled my cart to the checkout line, I passed the same old lady in the school supply aisle, patting the hand of another stranger, passing out more encouragement.

Love just oozed out of this lady, just seeped out of her. I can only imagine how long she was at Target, passing out blessings.

Jesus loved us so much that he came here, doing the crazy-world-in-December thing. Did he know how terribly we behave in the death circle around the mall? Did he know how we act when we are tired and thirsty and want a parking spot? Did he know how greedy we get when there’s a deal to be had?

Yes. He came willingly and dwelt among us all: cranky, stubborn, ignorant, prideful people. He gave love and encouragement at every turn. I don’t know how he did it, how he loved us unlovable people, but he did. He loved us, won our forgiveness, and paid the punishment in our place. Beyond all our understanding, He loves us crazy mall people.

Dear Lord,

I am sorry for losing my cool over silly things in December. I’m sorry for my impatience, for my greed, for my disregard for other people. Thank you for your forgiveness. Thank you for coming here, this crazy-terrible world, to save us from ourselves and our sins. Please give me strength to let my light shine and to share your love with others this season. May your will be done in my life, in my comings and goings. In your name, Amen.

“He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”  -Psalm 103:10-12