God's Heart for You.

[Judy Harder]

Playing with The Nativity

Dec  7 2011

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday dear Jesus.


Happy birthday to you.

My son is three.

This is the first year he has some understanding of Christmas, also known as Jesus's birthday.

Birthdays are a big deal to three-year-olds.

As soon as Elias made the connection (in October), he began singing Happy Birthday to Jesus.

{I think he thought this might make some Christmas gifts appear sooner.}

Whatever the reason for the Happy Birthday songs, I am excited that my son is excited about celebrating Jesus.

One of the most meaningful ways we have been able to talk about Christmas and Jesus's birth is with our children's nativity from DaySpring.



Here are five ways we have brought it to life:

1. We have the nativity set up in Elias's room – HIS space. It is on a small table where he can reach for it and interact with it. It is amidst Spiderman and Superman – and loved just as much.
2. We read Christmas stories each night, along with Scripture. We talk about Jesus's upcoming birthday, and how excited his parents were for him to be born.
3. We ask Elias questions about Jesus's birth. This gives him the opportunity to tell the story, in his words, as well as allows us to teach him any important details that he maybe leaves out, as three-year-olds tend to do.
4. We talk about each of the other figurines in the nativity and how they are part of Jesus's birth.
5. We pray together, thanking God for the beautiful gift of Jesus and the Christmas season.

If you don't have a nativity that your children can touch, I encourage you to buy one. Ours is one of our new favorite Christmas pieces.

{SPECIAL} DaySpring has a limited quantity of these children's nativities and they are offering them to (in)courage readers for 40% off with the code INDAY7. You can also use this code to get 40% off all totes!

{ADDITIONAL TIPS} Check out my post, Three Tools for Celebrating Advent with a Toddler for more tips.


{Question} How do you bring the nativity to life for your children?
 

My First Mothering Paycheck



I received my first paycheck for being a mother last month. Nine cents.  Handed directly to me by my five-year-old daughter.  Nine cents before taxes, social security and insurance are taken out.  To some, it's a laughable living, receiving less in five years than employees in sweat shops make in a day.  But you have to understand.  Nine cents is more than you and I believe it to be.  There are only two ways of arriving at this amount: by piecing together one nickel and four pennies, or using nine of those little Lincoln-bearing coins.

My paycheck came in the nickel and pennies variety.  In other words, I received not just one loose coin while digging through pockets before running yet another load of laundry.  Five valuable "monies," as my daughter calls them, were intentionally given to me.

One nickel and four pennies.  Five coins altogether.  In the mind of a preschooler who doesn't understand the value of the various colored coins, five is a lot.  Definitely more valuable than just one measly quarter.

My payment came as a result of a game I've played with my daughter over the years.  "Mama, can I have a lollipop?" my daughter asks, eager to raid her Halloween stash.

"Oh, it's going to cost you," I respond with a smile showing the real meaning behind my statement. Micayla is the sweet, affectionate sort, and it's no problem for her to run over and smother my face with wet, puppy-like kisses as payment.  But this time it's different.  Rather than running toward me, her little feet quickly carry her in the opposite direction.  Clanking noises fill her bedroom as she struggles to release the few coins in her much sought-after piggy bank.

"No, Micayla," I cry out, fearful I've taken this game too far. My dad frequently raises an eyebrow when watching this exchange, especially whenever I say the price is a kiss on Grandpa's cheek.  I've always known it borders buying my daughter's affection, something I desperately don't want to do.  I thought her laughter as she doles out her payments showed she understood the silliness behind my requests. But this time there is no kiss, just grunts as she struggles to free the hard plastic circle from the bottom of her piggy bank.

Have I just qualified for the worst mom award? Why did I start this silly game anyways?

My heart is pounding, fearful of what might ensue.  Frantic, I shout out, "I'm only kidding.  You don't need to pay me anything. Please don't give me anything."  I hope this doesn't permanently alter our relationship.  Will she forever view me as the mother who buys her love?  Oh, I hope not.

The rattling continues and then my daughter returns to my room, her face glowing with achievement, pride, and joy.  As her eyes gleam, she tells me in her most loving, innocent voice, "Mama, here's your reward for being such a great mother." It is ironic how just this morning I stepped over a penny, thinking it too insignificant to be worth my time to stoop and retrieve it.  Yet as she piles the once-deemed worthless coins on my nightstand, tears of gratitude well in my eyes.

Being a mom is undoubtedly one of the hardest jobs. I stay up late nursing Micayla back to health when she's sick, serve as a doctor after she scrapes her knees, and do my best to make learning fun, all the while teaching her valuable life lessons and instilling principles such as integrity and honor.  I do all these things without expecting anything in return, yet when I least expected it, I received the most priceless payment ever: nine cents.

By Stacy Voss, Founder of Eyes of Your Heart Ministries

[Judy Harder]

Planning a {Fabulous} Christmas Party

(in)courage

Every year I dream of hosting a fancy Christmas party.

You know the kind I'm talking about, right?

I'm talking about festive music, twinkling lights, specialty cheeses, mistletoe and spontaneous caroling – not to mention all my friends, family and neighbors mingling throughout my house, laughing and talking and generally having the best time they've ever had at a party.

Poof!

That was my bubble bursting . . . just like it does every year.

Though the idea comes up every year, I don't spend too much time daydreaming about a lovely holiday gathering, because I remember parties like that are impossible.


My house is too small.
I hate cleaning.
I don't know how to cook fancy holiday food.
My friends are too busy.
The weather might be bad.
My neighbors could get annoyed about the extra cars.
It takes so much time to decorate.
My cats don't like company.
Christmas music gives me a headache.

See? Planning a holiday party really isn't possible, practical, doable for me. Or is it?

Actually, planning a holiday party is completely attainable goal for any of us. And not just any party – You can plan a fabulous party.

Does that sound like wishful thinking?

I hear you. I've held New Year's Eve parties where nobody showed up except my best friend and my brother. I've hosted family dinners where the main dish turned into the main disaster. And I've stressed out about matching tablecloths and napkins, an equal number of sweet and salty snacks, and the perfect playlist more than once. (I've also spent way too much money and yelled at my family way too often over these same things!)

Thankfully, I've learned that planning parties – whether it's your family's holiday dinner, a white elephant gift exchange for your Sunday school class or an office open house for all your clients – doesn't have to be so painful.

That's why I've written Plan a Fabulous Party {without losing your mind}.

I can't control the weather, teach you to cook like The Pioneer Woman or ban your crazy brother-in-law from all family gatherings. But I can teach you a simple step-by-step process for planning any kind of party, and help you ditch your reluctance (or panic!) for confidence and success.

Even though I've acquired a long list of to-dos and not-to-dos when it comes to planning successful events, my desire is to speak to your heart, not simply your to-do list. As a recovering perfectionist (and veteran "I'll plan the shower!" volunteer), I know that the best-laid plans and most meticulous event timeline won't mean squat if you walk into your event holding a bucket full of outrageous expectations and unprepared for real life.

Plan a Fabulous Party {without losing your mind} will walk you through the steps involved in planning any type of party and leave you prepared to handle unexpected complications or challenges (without freaking out!). I've included questions to prompt you through each step of the planning process, reminders of possible stumbling blocks and surprises and a checklist to use for each of your fabulous events.

You just might find yourself enjoying your own party.

I'm excited to share with you what I've learned about planning parties – fabulous parties – over the years, and I just know you can do it, too, without losing your mind. It takes a little work, a lot of preparation and a healthy dose of patience (and possibly some deep breathing techniques), but planning a fabulous party without losing your mind is absolutely possible and totally worth it.

Until December 31, use the code INPARTYBOOK for a 20% discount on Plan a Fabulous Party {without losing your mind}. Meanwhile, I have some invitations to send.


The 8th Day of (in)RL {in real life} Christmas Giveaways 8 Pillow Covers


On the eighth day of Christmas,
(in)courage gave to me
Eight pillow covers
Seven joyful totes
Six carol trees
Five lovely platters
Four memo boards
Three wooden trays
Two canvas prints
And a hurricane nativity!
Christmas was the first (in)RL—the original in real life.

To celebrate Christmas and our first ever (in)real life conference and global meetup {have you registered yet?} we've got 12 full days of giveaways!

To be entered to win one of these 8 pillow covers just post this as your Facebook status and tag @incourage so we know you did:

I'm loving the 12 days of Christmas Giveaways over at @incourage. Eight pillow covers up for grabs today – and 7 other giveaways still open! http://bit.ly/uSFDTl And if you don't win it, there's always a super discount code anyway!

TODAY'S GIFT DISCOUNT: Today's gift is already discounted 50% off – so really, everyone's a winner!

[Judy Harder]

When waiting IS the plan...
Dec 10 2011  Genny Heikka


Being a writer involves a lot of waiting. It is can be weeks–usually months–from the time you submit a manuscript to an editor until the time you hear back. As a not-so-naturally-patient person, this part of the writer's life has taken some getting used to for me.

Recently, when an editor was interested in one of my manuscripts and asked to see the whole thing, I eagerly sent it off.

Three months turned into six... and I wondered if my work was on her desk waiting to be read or if she already decided whether she liked it or not. (No negativity towards editors here; they are busy and, after years of being a writer, I know that time is just part of the process.)

One day, after the six-month mark had passed, I woke up and prayed for an answer to come about my manuscript—that day. I was prepared either way, I promised God. I just needed to know... so I could stop waiting.

I grabbed my Bible and randomly opened it to Isaiah 30:18:

"...For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him."

Hmm. Blessed are those who wait...

I needed the reminder, but I still didn't want to wait anymore. I read on:

"But those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint." –Isaiah 40:31

Another waiting verse.

Not exactly what I wanted. Stubbornly, I kept reading, looking for something along the lines of, "Your wait will be over soon!"

I came to Isaiah 42:9:

"See the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them."

New things?

I became hopeful. Maybe the editor would call and say she loved my novel. I closed my Bible, went about my day...

and got no answer on my manuscript.

Feeling sorry for myself, I had a little pity party. "I'm sooo tired of waiting," I whined. "I just want to know what the plan is." And, suddenly, as if God was whispering directly to my heart, these words came to me:

I AM the plan. You just need to follow me, and wait.

I didn't hear them out loud, but the words felt like they had been spoken inside of me. Quickly, I grabbed my Bible and re-read Isaiah 42... verse 6:

"I have taken you by the hand and kept you..."

and I realized, here I was complaining about waiting on God, but most of the time, He's not only taken me by the hand, He's been waiting for me.

For me to follow Him with my whole heart, for me to trust him when I don't get answers, for me to set aside my own agenda, for me to rest in the waiting...

for me to rest in Him.

I read through to verse 9 and again was filled with hope: "... new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them."

But this time I wasn't hopeful I'd get the answer I wanted on my manuscript.

Instead, I had a new hope about whatever God had planned. And I realized that waiting is the before that this verse talks about. I was in the before; new things were to come... and I didn't have to know exactly what that meant.

I just needed to trust and wait.

What about you? Have you been waiting for an answer on something in your life?

by Genny at MyCup2Yours



Too often, the Christmas story only impinges on the periphery of our lives." ~ Ian Strachan, Today In a Manger

With so much Christmas to celebrate, the danger of the holidays isn't stress. It's complicating it so much, that we miss out on the story of Jesus, showing up in us today.
Christmas can get so complicated.

That's because life doesn't stand still.  Neither do the commercials or the holiday spam.

There's also the added pressure of expectations bubbling underneath.

I'm not talking about the expectations for presents sitting under a tree.

Each of us is waiting for God in some area of uncertainty in our lives.

We've been on pause in our stories, watching for some sign of certainty to move ahead.

But we're also not sure which way is best.

When doubt, fear or worry surround us, especially during the holidays, we wonder:

Can Christmas really change our stories?

How can one day make that big of a difference?

The Other Side of 24 hours
It's the day before Christmas Eve.

It's just another day on the job for the shepherds watching flocks by night.

They have no idea what's waiting for them on the other side of 24 hours.

– They will be the only ones personally invited to see the Messiah, right in the delivery room.

– Angels are actually going to light up the sky and blast a singing telegram from God in surround sound.

– Then, just as quickly, the sky will drop back into dead silence, darkness and stars standing in their places, just as they've always hung in panoramic view.

The shepherds will wonder.

Was that for real?

Did I actually see and hear what I think just happened?

When God sends us a message — just to us and no one else — we will stagger into that fearful and wonderful place the shepherds found themselves 2,000 years ago.

We will find ourselves in the Fields of Faith.

Fields of Faith
God does that.

He drops by to give us some exciting joyful news.

Change.

New beginnings.

He tells us about His plans with a simple announcement. No explanations.

His timing is peculiar too.

God hits us with an inspiration, when we're feeling the most ordinary.

Like the shepherds, we encounter God as we're sitting on the outside, on the fringes of what we think is our best.

Just as we get excited — just as we begin daring to believe what we we're hearing or seeing about God and His invitation — Whoosh!

Everything returns back to everyday sameness.

Darkness.

Circumstances and people around all circling and in holding patterns, just as they've always been.

This is when we must hold onto faith and gather our courage.

Wild Eyes & Open Hearts
C'mon. Let's do it.

Let's say to ourselves — and to each other — just as the shepherds blurted, bright eyed and open hearted to each other:

"Let us go to Bethlehem and see what the Lord has told us about." (Luke 2:15 GWT)

In an instant, God can call out to us in the field of faith and invite us to leave where we are, to go and see.

We may not believe it, but God is calling us out into the open, wooing us to radically leave the routines we've established behind.

We will have to say good bye to some old ways and even some familiar expectations.

But when it's time to point our steps to go and discover what God's told us, it's time for us to move out.

What Stories Need
Whether we're anxious about –

a move,

a new dawn or descending end,

a breaking or beginning of relationships,

nurturing a fragile dream,

or bearing up under unexpected trials,

– we each have one story to live and we want so much to get it right.

God uses these tender places to call out to us.

Stop looking for the black and white.

Look for Jesus.

He can change your story – the story of Christ in you.

What at we need to choose — what all our stories need — is faith to believe God is (really) with us.

*  Will we fall back on the routines of the holidays to get us through this month?

*  Or will we journey to "Bethlehem" — just like the shepherds who left their fields — to unwrap Jesus new this year?

As you think and savor this month of Christmas, be attentive for what God has in store for you.

Slow down.

Stop.

Leave.

Or go.

No matter how brief the encounter or how few the words.

He said it. And you heard it.

Let us go and discover what the Lord has for each of us — unwrapping Christmas — new this year.



~~~~~

"This mystery has been kept in the dark for a long time,
but now it's out in the open...
The mystery in a nutshell is just this: Christ is in you."
~ Colossians 1:27 (The Message)

~~~~~

How is God calling you to leave, go or see?


How are you unwrapping Jesus this year?

Pull up a chair.  I'd love to hear your thoughts. Click here to comment.




The Best Part
Dec 10, 2011   Jennifer


We have made our gift list and we have been busy shopping. Some gifts are already carefully wrapped and waiting under the tree. We spend weeks preparing and hoping that we can find that perfect gift for each person on our list.

Then we worry.

We may worry we haven't gotten enough. We may worry that we have not found the right gift. We may wish we were able to buy more than we did. It is easy to get wrapped up in these thoughts, I know I do.

I also know when I let these worries fill my head, I am missing the best part of Christmas.

The best part of Christmas. You know... that perfect Christmas gift. The one that fits on every list. The gift is that it is the perfect size. The gift that is the perfect style. The one that will not be out of date in a few months. The gift that will not expire. The one, as hard as it is to understand, is custom fit for each and every one of us.

The gift that is everything we need.

The greatest gift given to the world. The gift of love, hope, joy and peace. God loved us so much He gave us the gift of His son. The gift of Jesus.

Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift! 2 Corinthians 9:15

The wonderful thing about this special gift... it is to be shared with the world! This gift is a gift that was given to us to share. What is more joyful than being able to share gifts we are given? There is such a joy in giving. There is a privilege in sharing.

It is more blessed to give than to receive. Acts20:35



We can each share this special gift in our own unique ways. We can reach out to others. We can extend the love and grace of God.

We can help someone who is going through a difficult time with encouragement and offer them hope. We can visit a neighbor who we know is spending the holidays alone and bring them joy. We can share the word of God. We can cook for a family that is struggling to make ends meet and show them love. We can listen when someone just needs to talk and share that peace. We can pray.

Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
Luke 6:38

What are more unique ways we can share His indescribable gift with others this season? We would love to hear!

By Jennifer, StudioJRU

[Judy Harder]

 Sunday Scripture

Dec 11, 2011  incourage

In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.

But the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."

"How will this be," Mary asked the angel, "since I am a virgin?"

The angel answered, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month.

For nothing is impossible with God."
"I am the Lord's servant," Mary answered. "May it be to me as you have said." Then the angel left her.

~Luke 1:26-38.

[Judy Harder]

Unfolding Faith
Dec 12, 2011 12:20 am | Kristen Strong


"Our job is not to mold our kids but to unfold them." Jon Courson

I lean against the window and stare into sapphire winter skies. Days have passed since the night I heard those life-changing words. Still, I can't get the doctor's point blank statement out of my head,

"If she'd landed just a bit harder, she'd be in a wheelchair or dead."

Heavens, what can unfold in no time at all. This proved true the night a gymnastics accident left our girl's head throbbing and her sobbing scared over being "numb and tingley." The accident didn't look scary; she didn't fall awkwardly or in any way that made me suck in wind or jump out of my chair. But, we don't mess around with numb and tingley. So after the ER trip, x-rays and a CT scan, we discover the critical bone -the odontoid – that protects her spinal chord is malformed. This bone protrudes from the second vertebrae, and the malformation means part of her spine is not as protected as it should be. Without this extra protection, any jarring of the neck can cause numbness. Or worse.

This leaves us numb and jarred into a new reality. That night, we fall asleep clinging to gratitude,

"Thank you, God, for using this accident to bring hidden truth to light."

"Thank you, God, for protecting this always-in-motion girl in every tumble and fall."

So, we add scary words like neurosurgeon to our vocabulary while taking gymnastics out. Losing gymnastics is a hard thing for our active girl to accept, this saying goodbye to a love and a dream. And to be honest, there are hard things for this mama to accept, too.

When the slightest fall or wrong move could be catastrophic, how will our new normal unfold? And how do I embrace the unfolding when it looks different than I imagined?

My friend Alli comes over to pray with me, and she tells me she knows this struggle. Her son has Aspergers, a form of autism. She holds her coffee cup and my eyes saying,

"This is the blessing in the ordeal, Kristen. In our humanness as parents, we naturally want to steer our children's interests towards our own. With news like this, we get an unmistakable barrier to our plans. For my son and your daughter, options are limited. And this fact forces us to get out of the way as God's plans and interests make themselves known."

Yes: Life's limitations are His invitation to change our expectations.

Life's limitations unfold God's intentions.



Regardless of the winds tomorrow's weather brings, God's character remains. In His grace, God protects our girl today as much as He did last month and last year. Our new normal shows what has been true all along: God holds and unfolds.

Still, saying goodbye to my own expectations hurts.

Mary knew all about that. Gabriel told her she'd give birth to the Son of the Most High, the One who would sit on the throne of His father King David. Knowing this, did she not picture Him wearing fine robes and crowns? Did she not smile at the thought of Him being revered and respected– right along with His earthly parents? Oh, she had plans for Him alright. But with time, she had to release those plans. God willed Jesus to be everything Gabriel promised, but it unfolded in a way Mary couldn't imagine.

God wills my daughter to be everything He promises, and it is my job to unfold His purpose for her. When I accept this truth, my faith unfolds. In the ordinary and the ordeal, I find peace by unfolding my hands and allowing my daughter to unfold in His.

I smile out the window. The crazy Colorado winds pick up, but my soul stills. I remember our girl's name is no accident. She is Faith, our unfolding Faith.

How has life's limitations unfolded God's intentions for you or your children?

By Kristen Strong, Chasing Blue Skies



I Want to See!
Dec 12, 2011  | Adelle Gabrielson


... As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus, was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Jesus stopped and said, "Call him."

So they called to the blind man, "Cheer up! On your feet! He's calling you." Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, "Rabbi, I want to see."

Mark 10:46-51 (NIV)

As if He didn't know.
He is Jesus, the Son of God, after all.

Don't you think He knew exactly what Bartimaeus wanted? So desperately wanted? He didn't offer, He waited. He let Bartimaeus do the asking.

Can you hear the urgency is his shouts? "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Bartimaeus knew. This was his chance – right here, right now – to be healed. To be free. To be liberated from his disability.

"Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

He wasn't afraid to ask. He wasn't embarrassed to cry out, to make a scene, to beg. He knew that there was only one possible cure.

The cure was Jesus.

He threw off his cloak, and he jumped to his feet. He was blind – but he didn't hesitate, he didn't walk carefully, or timidly. He jumped at his chance.

So often we bear our failures like a garment. A cloak of shame and burden we wrap around ourselves.

Afraid to ask. Afraid to make a scene. Afraid to reach for that one, perfect cure.

The cure is Jesus.

Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!

I throw off the burden of my sin, my failures. I throw off the cloak of shame for all the times I yelled when I shouldn't have, when I let them down. When I made the wrong choice. When I wasn't the support I should have been.

When I was selfish. Unkind. Judgmental.

Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!

Jump at the chance for healing and forgiveness – don't walk, run. Throw off your burden, and go.

"Go," said Jesus, "your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

Bartimaeus, healed, knew what he needed to do. He didn't run home, he followed. He stayed with the One who healed.

Go and do the same, friends, go and do the same.

God's love is not wearied by our sins and is relentless in its determination that we be cured at whatever cost to us or Him. ~ C. S. Lewis

Read more at www.AdelleGabrielson.com.



Ordinary Christmas
Dec 12, 2011  | FFH




It was snowing in Indiana on November 10th, the night that we first played some of our new Christmas music to a concert audience. Since then, most of our shows have been about Christmas.   We like playing these songs so much; I wish we had three months to enjoy them instead of just one!  In the few moments during the concerts where we slow the music down and share our thoughts about The Advent and the songs surrounding it, we've been focusing on the ordinary aspect of Christmas.  Sort of sounds like an oxymoron doesn't it?  Christmas is anything but ordinary, right?

Jesus' birth was altogether earth shattering, but what we often forget is that this eternity-changing event happened in the most ordinary of settings on the most ordinary of nights.  Jesus was born in an ordinary town, to an ordinary girl, in a very ordinary place.  His first worshipers were ordinary country folks and his nursery mates were ordinary farm animals.  It was all so ordinary that no one, no one "important" that is, even knew what was going on.

King Jesus didn't come to our world as we might expect a king to come, with lots of pomp and circumstance.  There was no processional, no crowning, no celebration.   The Children  of Israel, who had for so long waited expectantly for their Messiah, were not looking for the King in Bethlehem, or in the cattle stall.   They were waiting for a more triumphant entry.   And in their disillusion they missed it.

We can hardly blame the Israelites.  We want King Jesus to come into our world in the same way they wanted Him to enter theirs, with power and might.  We want Him to come into our mess and hurt and brokenness and turn the tables over with brute force.  And sometimes He does.  And once or twice in our lives we might get to see it happen.  But most times, most days, King Jesus comes into our world in the ordinary things of life, while we are doing ordinary things with ordinary people.

He comes in the kind words of a friend, or the bedtime cuddle with our kids.  He enters our world as we watch autumn leaves cover the ground or hear the sweet tune of a familiar song.  And sometimes He comes so subtly that we don't even know what He's done until long after, and only when we look back do we see His hand in all of it.

The Advent of Jesus into our lives is all around us.  He is always coming, always entering our world, but we've forgotten how to recognize it.   We forget to look in the manger, the most unlikely place.

Many of us have gotten so far away from Bethlehem that we don't know how to get back.  But the poor still know how, they are always close to Jesus cause they always need Him.  Old people know how, they've been around long enough to realize that all of our efforts end up leaving us tired and unfulfilled, so they've made their way back to Bethlehem long ago.  Kids know how too, they're too young to have been convinced that they need to leave the simple town for a more extraordinary life.  They're just fine with an ordinary little bedroom on an ordinary little street.   It's their parents that strive for "more".

Our family is going to try to celebrate the Advent this year by being still enough, long enough, to see King Jesus as He enters and inhabits our ordinary little world. It won't be easy because we suffer from materialism and busyness and anxiety like everyone else.  But it's worth the effort.    May you be blessed in the ordinary as well.

Peace and rest,

Jeromy and Jennifer Deibler

****

[Judy Harder]

Shine
Dec 13, 2011 | Angela Nazworth


Too often, I am dull ... not in personality ... not in appearance. I am dull in spirit.

When self doubt ties my tongue, I am dull. When perfectionism weights my joy, I am dull. When anger veils kindness, I am dull. When fear prevents me from trying, I am dull.

Dull may be part of my natural bent, but it is not a part of my calling. As a follower of Christ, I am required to be a light. I am called to shine.

"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven."

The Christmas season brings with it many opportunities to shine radiant with the Good News flowing fresh in my heart. This time of year can also bring distractions that make it far too easy to hide my light. Sometimes ... and shamefully so, the one who falls in the center of my thoughts during the holidays is ... me. My mind's camera lens zooms in on my feelings ... my desires ... my needs (real or perceived) ... and suddenly, I am dull.

Do you ever feel as if the light you are to shine burns dull? What burns you out? What reignites you?

This Christmas and all throughout the year, I want to toss away that basket that dulls my light ... and I want to shine ... to gleam bright and bold for the glory of my King.

[Judy Harder]

The Messy Girl and her Messiah
Dec 15, 2011 Lysa




I sat down recently to spend a few minutes reading my Bible and decided to read the Christmas story in Mark. I couldn't remember ever reading the Christmas story in that gospel, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

Well, it appears Mark believes in cutting to the chase.

There's no mention of a manger. No Mary and Joseph. No baby Jesus. No bright star or angels or heavenly hosts. No silent night. No holy night.

As a matter of fact, if Mark was the only gospel where Jesus' entrance to this world was mentioned, Christmas would look vastly different.

There would be no gifts.

There would be no Linus delivering the stellar line in the Charlie Brown Christmas special.

There would be no lights shining so brightly.

There would be a wild looking man named John the Baptist dressed in leather and camel hair, preparing the way for Jesus by preaching one message. A message we don't typically hear at Christmas.

A message that's rough around the edges and little hard to swallow alongside my sausage balls and cheese blintzes.

Repentance.

That one word sums up the beginnings of the Christ story according to Mark.

"And so John came, baptizing in the desert region and preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins..." (Mark 1: 4-5).

This is about the place in the sermon where I start hoping some people I know are really paying attention. I climb up on my mental high horse and think, "Thank you Lord for this message all these people need to hear- because you know how they act. You know how selfish they are. Whew. And you know so and so just needs a full out repentance revival. Mercy!"

It's a that point, Jesus whispers to me. It's a message to you and you alone. You need this message, Lysa. I am calling you to repent. This is the way you need to prepare for Christmas in your heart this year.

"I will send a messenger ahead of you, who will prepare the way- a voice of one calling in the desert, 'Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him' " (Mark 1:2-3).

The girl who can be such a mess.

Hears the messenger calling for repentance.

So, she makes Christmas not the same old story but a message meant for her heart.

And she whispers once again, "I'm sorry Jesus. Forgive me. Heal me. Restore me. Those little places I excuse. Those same old things that trip me up. The pride that keeps me thinking it's someone else's fault. The busyness that makes me forget to stop and consider my ways- my thoughts- my actions. You, Messiah are the best match for my mess."

I doubt this will ever be the most popular version of the Christmas story but for me this year, it's perfect.

By Lysa TerKeurst



Because what we're really getting ready for is Love
Ann Voskamp


Preparing for the holidays is primarily a preparing of the heart.

Because what comes down is love and the way to receive love isn't to wrap anything up — but to unwrap your heart.


This will take time.

This will take waiting.

I must make space for these.

Why don't I make space just for the heart unwrapping?

Advent — this is the season of preparing that prepares us for any season of life — because we are preparing our lives for Christ to enter in — which prepares for us the life without end.

Is that the ultimate purpose of this life — the preparing for the next life?

Is this why Christmas, Advent, unlike any other time of year, glimmers with a glimpse of heaven — because it's the time of year we're fulfilling our purpose, preparing for Christ and His coming again? The Christmas tree's been lit for weeks, a beacon, a preparing, an anticipation. Why is it easier to make Christmas cookies than to make our hearts ready for Christ?

Is getting ready for Christmas as simple and difficult as simply sitting stilled before the cradle of Christ?

And yet.

Love came down and "He came to his own people, and his own people did not receive him."

(John 1:11)

Love came down – and his own people did not recognize Him.

Love came down — and His own people did not want what He offered.

The Messiah came down and He wasn't received as the Messiah — and Love comes down down and who receives all the moments as His love?



How in the world am I receiving Christ this Advent?


During Advent, the season of waiting for the coming, the Christ-people, they meet whatever comes with this brazen belief that it is Love that Comes Down.

Love comes down to His own people — and His own people are the ones who do receive the unexpected and unlikely as His love.

The infant as infinite God.

The Babe as bondage-breaker.

The stump as new shoot, the ugly as beautiful, the weak as strong.

Our loving God always comes to us wrapped in the unlikely.

We may not know the outcome but we tenaciously believe that in Him we overcome — because Love comes down.

Is that how we get ready for Christmas? By readying the heart to receive the gift of every moment — no matter what the moment unexpectedly holds — as a gift of His love?

We're ready for Christmas, not when we have all the gifts, but when we are ready for Christ — when we're ready to give all of ourselves to Christ.

At the end of the day, the carols hardly play, and yet I hear them.

I light the candles at the hearth.

And I can feel how it comes.

The warmth and the flame and this slow unwrapping of everything bound...

[Judy Harder]

My Real Family Christmas Letter

Dec 16,  Jennifer Schmidt




In the next few weeks, Christmas cards and letters from friends far and near will descend on our mailbox. Memories will resurface from a lifetime ago. Unfamiliar faces will appear in pictures, as marriages have dissolved and new covenants established. Successes, trips, achievements and well wishes will be touted, and all along, I'll wonder, "How are they really doing?"

It's been years since I have sent out family Christmas letters. In fact, 50 copies of our 2005 family picture still line the bottom of my desk screaming, "You are the Queen of Best Intentions." In a new season of life, I will re-establish that reciprocal "exchange of cards" tradition, with the desire of getting re-added to the list of the numerous families who have given up on me, but also in hopes of sending a card that would get to the heart of the matter.

Here's my real family Christmas letter.

Dear friends and family,

I can't believe I am wishing you all a Merry Christmas. Wasn't it just yesterday that the Lord graciously ushered in 2011? I need to just make it through one more week and then I can slow down, pause and truly reflect on all that He has done in our lives this year.

We've had a host of new experiences for our family, all divinely appointed, but some filled with heartbreaking challenges. The older I get, the more intimately I am aware of my need for a Savior.

Our five children still fill the majority of my time, although they are no longer the stair step toddlers I just birthed. Our three little boys are practically grown men, and attempting to feed them creates challenges of their own. Our eldest turned eighteen last week (with our youngest just eight), and it aroused such a myriad of emotional mommy moments. Do you remember when you were 18? So much potential, so many admirable leadership qualities, and yet 18 year olds truly believe they are "so wise in their own eyes."

As I mother, I continue to grow and learn more about myself than I care to know. Often though, I realize I am just a mess – a mess that is fully loved and accepted by a Savior who calls me to this most sacred occupation. My desire is to just love my children like God loves me, and continually pursue their heart. I want no regrets, yet often I am just exhausted. One child said to me, "Mom, you just care too much. Other parents just don't really ask these kinds of questions."

As we engaged in this heart to heart dialogue surrounding tough issues, I shared that as I stand before the Lord, if He states that my worst mistake was caring too much about the core character and heart attitude of our children, then I'll take it, but I doubt it will happen. Child rearing calls for such a delicate balance -  that giving of freedom, while nurturing, correcting and discipling. Even with our 12 year old daughter, I pray incessantly that the Lord will reveal to her who she is in Christ. She is a dream child – obedient, hard working, responsible. She even cleans and organizes without being asked, yet I fear there's a tendency towards self induced perfectionism. I want her to know His freedom. My desire is for her to understand the precious, face of grace, and the full life of abundance that He offers. But, I'm sorry,  enough about the kids.

Two years ago today, our family struggled with a year long period of unemployment that I coined our God Watch. Now we are so grateful for a new job that my husband loves, and doubly blessed as I attempt to navigate the waters of a blog turned into a work at home business. While I am fortunate to work doing something I love: encouraging women with creative, money saving ideas for their home, sharing free gifts like my Conversation Starters and Christmas Coupon Book,  I still struggle to balance  meal time mountain, housework, homeschooling, and time with my husband, not to mention cultivating friendships. Sometimes I feel as if I am not doing any of them well, but am grateful for people in my life who keep me rooted. As my hubby works long hours and I do the same, our date nights have been far between. Our marriage is solid and our communication is good, but we know that we cannot forsake prioritizing our time together, which we have done too much of this year. I marvel at his unconditional love for me. He treasures me and doesn't even care that I have gained over ten pounds this year and admittedly,  does not want to work out (but I am getting there.)

This past July, a sandwich competition afforded our family a trip of a lifetime. For a long time, our prayer has been that our kids would experience firsthand the kind of poverty that only occurs through a third world environment. So not only did the oldest four children take their first ever plane ride, but they took it to Guatemala, where our family worked in an orphanage and surrounding countryside. Their eyes were opened to the toiling work of the native villagers, and I prayed for softening of hearts. It happened, but I guess I don't know what I expected after that week, maybe that our children would come back, sell all their worldly possessions, commit their lives to full time ministry and never bicker again?

Well, that didn't happen. Nope, not even one of those things occurred, but His plan is bigger than ours, and I know the seeds planted in the country village side of Guatemala will come to fruition in His timing.

Well, that kind of sums up our 2011 in nutshell. Besides the new batch of puppies, football, basketball, golf, praise team, blogging, extended family time, and the continual bedlam moments that our family shares, it's been quite uneventful.

So as I pause, amidst my "uneventful" bedlam moments,  what I really want to remember is Christ in the every day wonder of this Christmas season.

I remember Him when precious prayers stir my heart from the innocence of our youngest.  I remember Him when I'm folding laundry and gratitude stirs for the dryer that eased my work load. I remember Him as I stub my toe, lose my patience, and recall this agony as nothing.

I remember Him for the sacrifice of what this season cost.

Merry Christmas, from our home to yours,

Jen Schmidt (just a messy Child of God trying to balance beauty and bedlam in her chaotic world)



Do You Have Something For Me?
Jennifer Watson


Years ago I went to the park with my little girls armed with plenty of snacks, lunch, and drinks. Wet wipes for dirty, chubby fingers and anything that they would need in the span of a few hours. A little girl all by herself made her way to our picnic table, beautiful and dirty with tattered clothes and an empty belly.

Instead of sitting next to my girls, she placed her little body right next to mine. Her blue eyes pierced through me as she said, "Do you have something for me?"

In a place scattered with Moms, she came to me asking one thing and hoping that I would have it.

"Do you have something for me?"

I fed her and gave her extra. I loved her for what seemed like minutes as I scanned the park wondering if anyone was missing her.

"Whom does she belong to?" Echoed in my over-protective mothers heart.

I watched her eat and enjoyed her closeness until a teenage dad placed her on the back of his bike and rode off with her. I watched her with an ache in my heart and an answer.

"She belongs to me." God whispered.

I haven't thought about her in years, blonde ringlets and adorable, dirty face, eyes that sparkled with questions, her need for closeness, her need for something to sustain.

Yet I feel the world asking, looking to us with empty eyes and hearts...do you have something for me? And I weep as I think how the enemy uses our self-centeredness as his most useful tool when we have the answer. When the world looks to us with starving hearts and questions wondering if they are loved and if they belong will we be too busy, to self-absorbed to answer?

Beautiful, Stained Soul,

Just in case you have showed up here wondering...you belong to God. He has something for you, something that will sustain your troubled heart. He wrapped Himself up in death to purchase your pardon. It's a gift, but you have to receive it and open your heart to Him and invite Jesus in.

Beautiful, Distracted Heart,

It's not about you, but you have forgotten that. It's not about us. We are unsatisfied and unfulfilled because our eyes point to ourselves. God help us to wake up and take our eyes off ourselves long enough to answer...Yes, we have something for you! Yes, you belong.

In a world filled with distractions, we must believe that we are never a distraction to our Maker. But, He longs to use us in ways we've never dreamed possible. God longs to turn a light on in our hearts and shift our focus off of ourselves towards Him. Then His love causes our focus outward to those with stained hearts who need to know the truth.

The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.' (Matt 25:40)

[Judy Harder]

The year of living dangerously
Dec 17, 2011  Robin Dance


Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
~ Helen Keller



She's looking me dead in the eyes when she speaks, a gaze so deeply penetrating its intensity makes me want to look away...but I can't.

"God is getting ready to do a work in you not possible when you're living in your comfort zone," she tells me when I confide my secret.  And to my concerns she says, "And He's going to meet your husband and turn him inside out when he's alone and questioning what in the world he's doing."

She speaks with such conviction and great assurance, I want to believe her.  I do believe her.

My husband and I have learned it's not in the easy times we've grown spiritually, it's during those difficult seasons of struggle...
...when we want to go back to "Egypt," to the familiar; not because we liked it but because we knew what to expect.

At mid-life, an adventure has been given to us, a door flung off the hinges, and our only response is to step into the unknown.
My husband has a new job; it begins with a 16-month assignment in Germany.

Somehow typing those words makes it more real.

I'm writing weeks before this is published; and we've known this secret was a possibility for quite a while before that.  I've been a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding and making one hot mess keeping this inside so long!

Logistics are still uncertain; how much time I'll spend with him and what portion of the year our children will join us are the biggest considerations.  But this I know:

God has lavishly gifted us with opportunity and we're humbled and grateful.

For the past 20 years or so, my husband has worked for a paper manufacturer; a dying industry.  His company was in bankruptcy for over four years, and thankfully through all the layoffs he's at least kept his job.  But that, coupled with working for a company with limited resources and sensing it wouldn't be around at the end of his career, has given him reason to keep his eyes open for something else.  As America has experienced the last 5-10 years, "something else" is elusive.  He's sent out dozens and dozens of resumes, interviewed a place or two, but mostly it's been...disheartening.  Defeating at times.

We've struggled with that. Friends have gone months–years–without jobs!  So how dare we complain, even if it's just to each other!  Heap guilt on top of frustration.

But the truth is, a man's esteem is tightly interlaced with his job; if his work life is suffering, he is suffering. Regardless of our desire to fix our eyes on Christ, to be grateful for a job, a paycheck and material provision, it has been hard.  Also factor in we've been looking for a church home for a year (and without a pastor 4 1/2 years prior to that in our old church) and the difficulty in developing deep relationships with friends since moving to Tennessee eight years ago...

it's been a desert season.
Yes, we've had provision; of course there are countless reasons to be thankful...

But our reality has still been peppered with void, loss, conflict, disappointment and discouragement.
When he got the job offer, I cried.  I don't think I've ever been happier for my husband.

This offer is about more than a job, I see it as a Very Kind Gift; it's symbolic of greater things.  At least in my head.

And so, after 24 years of marriage, we're about to begin a new adventure.

I'm so thankful to be able to share our news with our (in)courage community, a praying community.

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture
Dec 18, 2011  Deidra




For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

~Isaiah 9:6, NIV

Looking to make space for slow and easy on a Sunday morning? Slip on over to this sweet community and settle in with a photo and just a few, quiet words of blessing. It would be a joy to have you join us. To clear some space for grace and peace, and to begin Sundays together. Click the button below to join the community, to rest in the hush, and to link up a quiet blessing of your own...


Sweet and beautiful blessings to you as we quietly anticipate the miracle of God made flesh.

~Deidra



The Lesson
Dec 17, 2011 Robin Dance


The manner of giving is worth more than the gift.
~ Pierre Corneille, Le Menteur



Most memories are merely past recollection, but a rare few are ~

heart branders...

soul-shapers...

the living of which interminably alters the future.

I was just 12 years old when Christmas forever changed for me and my younger sisters:  our mother and father decided to teach us a lesson.
It started as every other Christmas had begun, with a lengthy wish list; we would likely receive everything we wanted.  Certainly, my parents instilled a servant's heart in each of us, but we were children of privilege.  Aware, not arrogant.

We'd count and shake our gifts repeatedly in the days that lead to Christmas.  Their size and shape stirred imagination, speculation and temptation–would anyone notice if we peeled back the tape the teensiest of bits?  The threat of Santa's telescopic eyes was enough to keep us honest.  And Mama's ire.

Anticipation and excitement awakened us when hours were still wee, and becoming human alarm clocks we jumped on Mama's and Daddy's bed–how could they STILL be sleeping?!  Groggily they followed us into our family room, where each of my three sisters and I quickly gathered our stash around us.  The floor was carpeted in Christmas "snow"–shimmery wrappings and ribbons and bows–and with great restraint we took turns opening our gifts from each relative before moving on to the next.

Open – smile and pose for a picture with each present – repeat.  My parents, brilliant, figured out how to make each moment last as long as humanly possible.

Our tradition including lining up by the phone to call and thank each relative.  This time my father stopped us...

the first indication something was different.
Daddy's gaze fell on each of us as he began, "You girls sure got some thoughtful gifts this year.  Do you think you can chose your favorite, the one you're most excited about?"

My sisters and I were giggles and laughter, and though Mama had to help my three-year-old baby sister, I knew exactly what I wanted to choose:  my Sony Walkman cassette player! It was the coolest thing I had ever received, and something about it made me feel older, like a teenager.

Daddy then asked us to set them on the hearth by Mama, and an uneasiness began to set in as he continued talking.  He reminded us how richly we were blessed as he began to read from Scripture, "...from everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."

Where was the Christmas story we were accustomed to hearing?  The shepherds, the wise men, baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling?! Butterflies invaded my stomach, and as I looked at my sisters I realized they didn't know where this was going yet.  I hoped I was wrong.

Daddy started talking about children, other children, who would receive nothing for Christmas.  Not the ones we heard about through Operation Christmas Child or starving in Third World countries...but children who lived in our hometown.

I can still see Daddy's hand clutching Mama's, fingers tangled in a ball.  Whatever was coming next they were united in, and I think they needed each other's strength to follow through.

"Your gifts, your favorite gifts, are an offering," he explained, "and they're going to be placed by God's leading in the hands of another child who wants them and will love them just as much as you do...."  He gently clarified that these gifts were not ours and would be used to convey an important message.
It would be years before I would fully understand the "important message" was mostly for me and my sisters.
Tears flooded our eyes and and questions spilled in buckets.  This wasn't fair!  We were in disbelief.  Surely our parents would change their minds and let us give away our old toys or at least our second favorite gift.  Or maybe it was all a joke.  Or a child's nightmare from which I'd awaken.

Straws I grasped, all out of reach.

I felt the weight of their anguish as my younger sisters awaited my response.  Never had my role as Big Sister demanded more of me and I knew they would follow my lead.  Mama knew exactly what to do to calm our tears–she began praying...over us, over the toys we were about to give away, over the children who would receive them.  I can still hear her satin voice, her soothing words.  This was no act of manipulation or coercion, Mama's was a prayer of worship, and God's presence and peace invaded our hearts.

I loosened an ironclad grip on my right to entitlement, to middle class affluence, and walked over to the hearth to place my walkman by the fire.  One by one, my sisters did the same.

Obedience was our only choice, really, but it would take years for my anger and resentment to melt into understanding.

But isn't that how the best lessons are learned–well taught, hard-fought and then written on our heart?
Like a real Santa, Daddy collected our gift-sacrifices in a sack and delivered them to a shelter on Christmas day.  We still were left with a pile of gifts but our favorites soon to be re-gifted.

Three years later I would accompany him for the first time, something we all were allowed to do the year we turned 15.  By this age, each of us actually looked forward to the giving.

But it took years to fully understand our tradition.

Years of dialoguing with the Lord to decide which gift was truly my favorite.

Years before I saw this as a wonderful opportunity to demonstrate the love of Christ instead of painful sacrifice.

Years before I understood the value of our offering; which increased my appreciation for the unimaginable cost to God for loving me so much he gave His only Son...  Gave...His...ONLY...Son. To me.
Twenty years later, this has become one of our most revered traditions of the Christmas season, one which I continue with my own son.  And though some might not understand or agree with my parents choices, for me and my sisters it was one of the most meaningful, powerful lessons in our lives.

To God be the glory for allowing me an earthly father who was willing to teach his daughters lessons of eternal value.

* * * * * * * *

My in-laws shared Amanda's story with us last Christmas, and I've wanted to write it down to share with others ever since!  This is one of the most beautiful family legacies I've ever heard..I'm not sure I would have had the fortitude to teach this lesson to my young children had we thought of it back then (maybe I should include it in my parenting series???). With gracious thanks to her for entrusting me with its telling, and I hope it means as much to you as it does to me.


With love to you and warm wishes for a joyful Christmas! xo

~ Robin, author of PENSIEVE