Tag Archives: faith

TRUE HOPE

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The day will come, says the LORD, when I will do for Israel and Judah all the good things I have promised them. “In those days and at that time I will raise up a righteous descendant from King David’s line. He will do what is just and right throughout the land. In that day Judah will be saved, and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this will be its name: ‘The LORD Is Our Righteousness.’ (Jeremiah 33: 14-16)

It almost seems impossible that the year 2024 is drawing to an end. Thanksgiving has come and gone, decorations for Christmas have been stocked in stores for weeks already, and each time I’m driving on a dark evening more and more homes are displaying festive decor for this beautiful holiday. I love seeing the variety of decorations that folks choose to decorate houses, porches, yards, trees and bushes–it seems anything is fair game when it comes to lights, wreaths, figurines, etc. And, it seems that with the passing of each year there’s a larger variety of decor to choose from made available in all our major stores. At least it seems that way to me when I reflect on memories from past Christmas seasons.

Ours was a home that dad didn’t deck out with lights. I think he may have done so one year and wasn’t satisfied with too simple of a look. The Christmas tree we put up–usually three weeks before the big day–was always real and for many years we went to a local farm as a family to cut one which was to our liking. Trudging through the snow with my parents and two older brothers was great fun as we squabbled over “getting just the ‘right’ tree”. Hanging the lights and bulbs was a family affair..dad took care of the lights…us kids and mom hung the collection of bulbs, finished off with tinsel and candy canes carefully tucked in the branches.

Mom’s other Christmas decorations were carefully placed on the fireplace mantle and tables. The year dad remodeled the kitchen gave us room to hang garland and bulbs on a shelf  which ran the length of one wall, and even small trees were tucked in corners on tiny shelves he had built at the end of the soffit. My parents are gone now. Long gone are those days of decorating my family home. The tiny trees that used to adorn those tiny shelves in mom’s kitchen now sit in my curio cabinet as a reminder of childhood days. 

When I was in elementary school, we kids made Christmas advent chains. Using construction paper in red and green, we glued strips formed into circles, making a chain of 25 in all. Each day we were instructed to tear off one circle which helped us “count down” the arrival of Christmas…gifts under the tree…time off school….family dinners…ice skating at our neighborhood rink as well as sledding down hills…we found many ways to take advantage of snow that fell during winter!

One of my favorite aspects of the Advent Season is the wreath and candles for lighting during the four Sundays leading to Christmas Day.Years ago my dad crafted a beautiful advent wreath stand for my home church. Several years ago the congregation closed its doors which had been open for over 150 years. I’ve often wondered if the stand is in a closet somewhere, no longer an active item in Christian celebration.

 Each candle has its meaning. This week is the first Sunday in advent– “Hope”. I truly believe it’s an understatement that everyone craves “hope”, especially now in a world where two wars make headlines every day. Changes taking place in our own country are provoking a variety of emotions and opinions, even in our own community.

The Christ child’s anticipated arrival certainly influenced a 2,000 old culture. The Jews of that time, living under Roman rule and oppression, were looking for a king. Upon the arrival of the Christ child and ultimately in his adult ministry, many Jews continued to place trust and hope that “this” messiah was the one to overthrow the Roman government and release them into new freedom. Their “hopes” were greatly misguided and sadly, today, as many people continue to do so–trust and hope is being deferred to people and institutions rather than God.

God spoke to the prophet Jeremiah hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, declaring “to fulfill the good promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah”. 

His good promise HAS been delivered and His name is Jesus Christ, the One to be celebrated at Christmas.

I’m excited for the beginning of Advent because of the holy day it ushers in during cold wintry days of December. I’m looking forward to the lighting of the Advent candles during worship each Sunday. As I drive around town and outside our community in the coming weeks, I look forward to beautiful displays…my prayer, however, is that in the midst of reindeer, snowmen, Santas, and angels–all those lovely holiday items–is the inclusion of nativity scenes with “a babe lying in a manger”.

Afterall, Christ is the reason we have Christmas as a worldwide celebration. His birth was prophesied hundreds of years before His appearance. Upon His arrival the world was changed forever, continuing with each passing year, and now believers wait for fulfilment of His return–the “second coming”.

In the meantime, in the waiting,  we light this week’s candle of “hope”. As Christians we are encouraged about 129 times in the New Testament to have “hope”. I think God knew we would need this beautiful emotion to embrace, especially when life gets hard. The disciple John ended his writing in chapter 16 with these words from Jesus–”I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world”.

As your family embraces the Christmas season, looking for traditions to continue or maybe begin–may you feel encouraged and drawn to join a body of believers to be in community. Together, we can wait with excitement and deep love as Christ is celebrated in the midst of beautiful decorations–but more importantly–empty or hurting hearts ready to be filled with true “hope”!

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PRAYERS & TEARS

Recently my husband and I watched an excellent movie that I stumbled upon while browsing our Prime account. I clicked on “Nicky’s Story” after reading the synopsis and in its beginning I confess I almost turned it off as I thought it was too slow moving and possibly a “sleeper”, the kind of plot that didn’t immediately catch my attention. I was wrong.

This documentary portrays the heroic and passionate events from the life of Nicholas Winton who was responsible for saving 669 Jewish children in the years of Hitler’s reign during World War II. He was able to fill eight different trains to deliver these children safely from Prague to the United Kingdom where he arranged for foster families to care for them.

At the movie’s end, photos of the actual survivors are featured, showing their name, age and the profession each had pursued in life. I was amazed at the number of professionals such as surgeons, scientists, technicians, teachers, etc. All lived to be quite aged and perhaps one of the greatest facts displayed on the screen is that from those 669 children, 5,700 descendants were produced.

In my own family–that of my father’s side–we have our own numbers to boast. My dad was one of 11 children; a baby boy ahead of my dad was born prematurely and survived for 8 days, so my grandmother actually bore 12 children. From my dad and his siblings, I counted 45 cousins. Several of those are deceased now. I’d love to know how many children each of my cousins had but at this point in my life, I honestly have no idea. The addition of  second, third and cousins beyond each generational label boggles my mind. Yet, in that uncertainty lies a fact I am confident about–I believe the prayers for my family that were uttered by my Grandma Jewell–those for the salvation of her children–also included her grandchildren as each one came along, trickling down through the next generation and into the present day.

The Bible says that our prayers are stored in heaven. In Revelation 5: 8 it states “…and the 24 elders fell down before the Lamb. Each one had a harp and they were holding golden bowls of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people”.

My grandmother’s prayer life was most often in the early hours of the morning. I’ve been told she was awake most nights beginning at 2 am to be in prayer. This was after a long day caring for children, preparing meals, helping with farm chores–all without many modern appliances. It was her habit to pray for her children beginning with the eldest to the youngest. As the boys went off to war, her prayers intensified. As each married, there was a new family loved one tucked inside her heart. And with each new “precious life” added into her growing family, her prayer list grew, filling a golden bowl in heaven.

As beautiful to know that our prayers are forever kept by God, there is also great comfort that He also stores our tears. In Psalm 56: 8 it says “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book”.

My grandmother surely shed her fair share of tears. There was the tragic death of an eldest grandson which happened while in her and grandpa’s care. His dad, my Uncle Bud, had remarried and while on his honeymoon his three children from a first marriage were with my grandparents. Buddy, age 4, ran into the road and was struck by a car. Because of that incident, over the years that we visited my grandparents, we were strictly told not to play by the road.

In 1953, the very day that I was born in November, my Uncle Rusty lost his oldest daughter to polio. She was merely 8 years old. I have no doubt that grandma joined her son and my aunt crying for Sheryl’s precious life, taken by a sickness that later became curable with a vaccine, only too late for her.

Knowing that God stores prayers and tears in heaven gives me a great sense of joy and hope. Nothing you or I talk to Him about or  as we sit quietly with tears streaming down our cheeks goes unnoticed by Him. I can think of no greater comfort than those two promises which are recorded for us in scripture. I can only imagine the number of golden bowls and vials God is using to capture every word, every tear from every person from generations past to now.

When I close my eyes, I can see my grandmother in her rocking chair, Bible open on her lap which is covered by her apron, soft hands folded across open pages of a favorite scripture. And while I envision worn pages from years of use, I can also see stains where tears of joy or heartache marked each heartfelt prayer to her Heavenly Father.  And I  see a golden bowl paired on a table with a vessel of tears. Both are labeled “Sadie Florence Morris Jewell”. 

A PLAN WITHIN A PLAN

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When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples,  “As you know, the Passover is two days away—and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.” Then the chief priests and the elders of the people assembled in the palace of the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas,  and they schemed to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. “But not during the festival,” they said, “or there may be a riot among the people.” 

While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of Simon the Leper,  a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked.  “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me.  The poor you will always have with you,[a] but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Then one of the Twelve—the one called Judas Iscariot—went to the chief priests and asked, “What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?” So they counted out for him thirty pieces of silver. From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over.

A question often asked in Christian circles, especially by a new believer, is “What is God’s plan for my life?” It’s a worthy question that deserves an answer which requires a lot of studying scripture, praying, and discernment. Too often, we believers want to know the “whole” plan, down to every last detail. This week, during one of my readings for the day, I took in Matthew 26: 1-16 and reflected on observing  how “a plan within a plan” was woven into the story.

First, Jesus is telling those gathered in a small home that soon He will be handed over to be crucified. In what I assume to be another small gathering some distance away, are the chief priests who are meeting in the palace of the chief priest. We meet two very different people in these 16 verses, a woman who has an expensive jar of perfume to pour out on Jesus and Judas, a devoted disciple who leaves the small home, enters the palace to inquire how he might benefit from knowing the whereabouts of Jesus. Both, desiring a particular outcome, knew exactly where to be in the moment.

In the course of these events, God’s plan of salvation, which is the most important of all, uses a woman and her perfume to illustrate deep love for her savior, which I have to believe she had no idea what was to come very soon with His arrest, torture, and death on a Roman cross. Did Judas wake up that morning and suddenly decide “I think I’ll betray my beloved Jesus today”. From the humble worship from a poor woman to a loyal disciple God’s plan continued to fall into place.

I think what we can learn from reading this portion of the crucifixion story is that no matter our status in life, regardless of an economic level, how faithful and godly our life may be, if God wants something accomplished He will complete it. Right down to using very faithful people along with those whose intentions may not appear to be good or righteous. 

As I meditated on these verses I noted the contrast of  the two meeting places–a small home and a large palace. In the small home with Jesus are His disciples and most likely the owners of the house–his hosts. This woman–who is not named–is present. In another gathering place–a palace–are the chief priests. They are scheming and plotting against Jesus while He’s telling his friends what is to come. I picture Him speaking from a heavy heart, but with a tone of assurance and love. Off in the distance, angry voices are raised against “this one” who has disrupted Jewish traditions and beliefs. In the midst of all the clamor, the beauty of quiet worship from a humble poor woman illustrates the kind of love response that Jesus was desiring from all He met during His three years of ministry.

Insert yourself into the story. Who do you identify with? Are you or have you been part of an angry mentality towards God and His plan for your life? It might be time to leave those thoughts and seek solitude in the quietness of your home. Perhaps you can imagine finding rest as you recline, leaning in to hear Jesus’ voice as He speaks to you, telling you what’s to come. That’s what was taking place in the home owned by Simon the Leper, yet the presence of deceits lingers in the air. We see rest, listening, worship and betrayal. God is working, He is moving. He’s accomplishing what is to come, a plan of salvation that had multiple twists and turns and miraculous events. They all lead to the final destination–redemption through Christ on a cross.

Your life is full of unexplained turns and circumstances, too. You have a choices, too. Follow Jesus and worship Him regardless of what’s to come even within the promise of eternal life, or reject Him and endure a different outcome, eternal separation from God. 

My prayer is that you won’t allow unexplained hardships towards God or not knowing His plan for your life to keep you from being in relationship with Him. Learn what we can from the people who are described  in these 16 verses. Like a poor woman who displayed deep love with an outpouring of a precious perfume as an act of humble worship, may we search our hearts and respond accordingly to His unimaginable love for us.