So This Is Christmas

Have you ever stopped to think about the significance of Christmas?  I know it may seem like a foolish question to ask this time of year, but have you REALLY stopped, in all the madness, and thought about what it is we are doing to celebrate Christmas? I am not one of those people who bash the Santa gig.  I think he is just as much fun as the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, and the Disney princesses, but do you ever stop and wonder if somehow Santa and all the black Friday madness has slipped into a place of importance where they do not belong?  The past two years I have, and I don’t believe I am alone.  I am seeing more and more people talking about what Christmas has become, what it used to be, and what it should be.  I think a growing number of people, this year especially; want to DO Christmas a little differently than the usual.  I think the thought of over spending on gifts for people who already have everything, and waiting in insanely long lines with gadget hungry people is starting to lose its flare. Maybe I am wrong, but maybe Christmas can look a little different this year.  Maybe Christmas can be celebrated for what it truly is.

Have you ever considered the SIGNIFICANCE of the birth of Christ?  I mean the TRUE SIGNIFICANCE?  This baby born on a “silent night” around 4-3 B.C. (according to some sources) was prophesied about for YEARS prior to his arrival.  There are a few I would like to highlight (although I know there are many more) that prophesied his birth. I will be focusing on 900 B.C. and onward. 

Samuel 930 B.C.

It is estimated that the books of Samuel were written around 930 B.C.  In 2 Samuel 7 God sends word to David that he will establish his kingdom through his line.  He says that the offspring will call him father and he will call him son, and he will establish his kingdom.  Almost 1000 years later the books of Matthew and Luke are recorded, and give Jesus’ lineage, showing that his ancestors are from the line of David.  To add to it in Luke 1:32 an angel is telling Mary that she will conceive a son, and he will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father, David.

Isaiah 740-680 B.C.

The book of Isaiah is absolutely chalked full of prophesy about Christ.  Isaiah 7:14 says that the Lord will give us a sign that the Messiah has come: the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel, which means ‘God with us’.  This was 700 years prior to the birth of Christ.  Anyone who knows the Christmas story knows, that Mary was a poor teenage girl who was betrothed to Joseph, and conceived by the Holy Spirit a baby boy she named Jesus.

Micah 735-710 B.C.

The book of Micah was written around the same time as Isaiah, and tells us that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem: But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.  Let that one soak in a moment.  Not only did God tell us that his son would be born in Bethlehem, but he also told us that his origins are from of old, from ancient times.  Which means he is has been with the Father long before he came to us.

Jeremiah 627-585 B.C.

This one is not the type of cutesy thing you would see in the typical church manger scene, but was prophesied nonetheless.  God gave word to Jeremiah 600 years prior to king Herod’s reign, that there would be a weeping and great morning in Ramah, for the children.  When Herod learned of Jesus’ birth from the Magi, he ordered all the boys two years and under in Bethlehem and its vicinity to be killed, fulfilling the prophesy given through Jeremiah 600 years earlier.

If we really sat back and let this soak in we might get a glimpse of how significant the birth of one child was over 2000 years ago, and why we still need to “go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ was born.”  The Messiah existed with God long before he ever came to earth.  He was prophesied about over 900 years prior to his birth, very specific things so that we would not miss him.  Then one night in the town of Bethlehem, he was born not in a ritzy home, or flashy birthing room, but out in who-knows-what because there was no place for them in the inn. Luke 2:7.  Our savior, the one who was prophesied about for YEARS, our salvation, was born on a quiet night in Bethlehem, and wrapped in swaddling clothes.  That is the night that God came down, and interceded on our behalf.  That is the night he began the good work he had been promising for years.  Now we celebrate it by trampling over each other, fighting over sale items at WalMart on Black Friday, and singing songs about a fictitious fat man in a red suite.  Does this seem strange to anyone else?

In 2008 on Black Friday in Long Island, New York there was a stampede of people in the local WalMart.  The crowd of people became over powering for the employees and one man was trampled to death.  As one employee laid on the floor other people began to walk and stomp ON him until he died. In 2011 in Muskegon, Michigan a teenage girl was trampled and began to have seizures in a crowd of people fighting over a $15 video game.  In 2012 on Thanksgiving night a woman from Germantown was trampled and injured during an area WalMart sale.  Nothing says lets celebrate our savior like a stampede of people fighting over things we can’t even take with us when we die.  If your children are anything like mine, we will be picking up the gifts from the year before off the floor and donating them to Goodwill by the following Christmas, because they no longer want to play with them. 

I have a hard time looking at the way we celebrate the birth of Jesus, and not wondering if we are missing him, and missing the big picture.  All the sales we chase, all the crowds we fight, all the stress we feel over buying presents for people who most likely already have everything they need.  Are we missing him?  He came to us, not dressed in clothing fit for a king, but in the rags of a poor baby born to a teenage mother. He was born in a poor family, worked as a carpenter, and spent his life serving others.  He healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, and made the lame man walk.  He taught about loving others as God loves us, and caring for the poor, sick, orphaned, and widowed.  Jesus even said in Luke 12:33-34, Sell your possessions and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys.  For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. The fact is, when we leave this earth (and one day we all will), we cannot bring all the shiny, expensive, cherished possessions that we own with us.  The only thing we can ever take with us when we die is Jesus.  So where is your heart this Christmas?  I encourage you this Christmas to do something that matters.  If we are going to celebrate the birth of Christ, let us do it by loving those whom he loved, and serving those whom he served.  Let us show the world the love of Christ this Christmas, and the awesome grace of God the father who sent him to save us.

A Love Story

To many who know me this post may seem very random.  Totally out of the blue.  Believe me when I say this has been on my heart for a while and has been a long time coming.  There are few people who know my complete story.  Before I gave my life to Christ I was not who I am now.  I have been feeling the urge to share my story in hopes that others will see it for the love story that it is, and that it may help others who have walked or are walking a difficult path of their own.  Knowing fully that some may not understand why I am telling the whole world my story, I will procede out of what I feel to be an act of obedience to our God.

I was a difficult teenager.  I was certainly the rebellious type, and was more defient than obedient for a good part of my teenage years.  I never felt like I fit in anywhere, and I had a constant feeling of hopelessness that I never could explain.  In an effort to fit in and find my place I participated in many self destructive behaviors.  I remember very clearly my Junior year of highschool being so depressed and empty feeling, that I just didn't want to live anymore.  If anyone reading this has suffered from depression, you know its like you are in a dark hole most of the time, unable to see joy at all.  It was the darkest place I have ever been.  I didn't see the point to my life, I felt like I was lost, without a purpose. Things were falling down around me, and I felt like I had no control over any part of my life.  I had lost my grandfather to cancer, and watched as the terrible disease ended his life.  I was getting way too involved with people and things that were not good for me in an effort to try to find my place.  I eventually got so depressed and felt like my life was spiraling out of control, that I stopped eating.  Because eating was something I could control.  I became anorexic, and weighed less than 100lbs (96 to be exact).  I was going to therapy and seeing my doctor to try to work out whatever it was that was aching inside me.  She even threatened to hospitalize me if I didn't start eating and gaining weight.  I eventually did start eating again, but it was out of fear of not being able to go to college that scared me into turning around.

Going to college, feeling empty, and insecure is a bad combination.  In an effort to feel like I fit in somewhere I joined a sorority and started drinking heavily.  It was a weekly occurrence, and many times it was several days in the week where I would go out partying and get drunk with the other sorority sisters and many times, with other fraternities.  Every time I did I felt more and more empty the next morning.  It didn't exactly give me the feeling of belonging that I had hoped for.  Now here is where the Love Story begins.  I was literally at my lowest point in life.  I was out drinking, again, with my sorority sisters.  Apparently my drunkenness got in the way of their partying, and they dropped me off on the floor of a random dorm room.  I don't know who it belonged to, but what I do know is it was not mine. I remember lying on the floor on my back and sobbing. I literally cried out to God at that moment and said, "God, I can't live like this anymore.  I want to change.  I don't know what to do, but I know I can't do this myself.  I need your help."  I don't remember how I got back to my dorm that night, but I remember very distinctly the words I said to God.

Three days later four people from my dorm hall walked by my room.  My door was open and I honestly can't remember exactly what I was doing, but it couldn't have been too important.  One of the four that was walking by stuck his head in and said, "hey, we are going to BSU....wanna come?"  I honestly didn't have much to do, and had no idea what BSU stood for, but the guy asking was cute, so I went along (don't worry, my husband knows this story, he is actually a big part of it).  It took me no time at all to realize once I stepped into the auditorium that BSU stood for Baptist Student Union.  They were having a bible study and praise and worship that night.  Once the praise and worship service started I was floored at what I saw around me.  People were praising God and they were happy about it.  They were happy in general.  Like, genuinely happy.  I didn't sing a single song that night, because I wasn't sure what to make of what I walked into.  But there was something that kept me going every week.  Even on the weeks the "cute" guy that invited me couldn't go, I still found myself going.  Then about a month and a half in, I met my husband.  He had been invited by a few of the same people that invited me to come.  Except they invited him from his ROTC bible study.  He truly invested time in me, and was a major part of me understanding the sacrifice of Christ, and what it meant to be a follower of Jesus.  He explained the symbolism of baptism, and how it was just an outward expression of the inward change when you accept Christ as your savior.  There was something in his explanation and guidance that really hit home with me and I started going to church with him. The pastor of his church was very knowledgeable and was genuinely excited about the gospel. He actually made a comment about not needing a pulpit because he was always going from one end of the stage to the next.  He had a knack for bringing in the college students and military from the base in the neighboring city.  I started to feel like I not only belonged somewhere, but felt that I belonged to something very important.  I started to see the purpose in life.

February 2004, I gave my life to Christ and chose to follow him for the remainder of my days here on earth.  I was baptized on October 10, 2004 in the church Ron and I had been going to together.  It ended up being the same church we got married in, in 2005.  Many look at Christianity and see nothing but a bunch of boring people, out of touch with the world.  I look at my decision to follow Christ and see fulfillment, and purpose.  In following Christ, I do not feel out of touch with the world, but determined to serve and love it like Christ did. My life has been many things these past 9 years, but boring certainly isn't one of them.

So here is HIS love story for me.  I was on a dangerous path to self destruction, lonely, without purpose, and lost.  I called out to him and he sent four people to come get me out of my dorm room, and out of despair, to introduce me to a life of purpose.  I am not who I used to be, because now I am a child of the one true king.  He gave his life for me, and for all who would accept him, so that our sins will not be counted against us.  Because of his sacrifice we can be a new creation in him.  We can shed our old life, to live a new life of purpose.  There is no sin too great for him to forgive.  He came and desires ALL people to be saved (1 Timothy 2:3-4).  I have met many people who have accepted Christ who have a hard story before they accepted him.  I have spoken to a man who gave his life to Christ after selling drugs on the streets, and is now a pastor of a church here in Missouri. I have read stories of men who live in countries that kill Christians for their faith.  One particular story was about a man who murdered over 100 people in his country in the name of Allah. This man had a life changing dream about Christ, which resulted in him choosing to follow him.  Because there is no sin too great for God’s grace, I know he is just as forgiven as I am.  Let’s not forget that one of the greatest apostles, Paul, said “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.” 1 Timothy 1:15.  Paul, one of the greatest apostles who wrote most of the New Testament, was persecuting Christians and approving of their death before Christ came to him.  Please do not think that your sin is too great or that you have to clean up your life before coming to him.  For Pete’s sake, I was drunk and lying on a stranger’s dorm room floor when I cried out to him….and he heard me!

So the question is, dear reader, what is your love story?  Does it start now?  Or do you already have one, and who should you be sharing it with?  Who should you be telling about God's amazing grace?  What did he save you from that you should not be keeping to yourself?