Traveling Toward Jesus

Matthew 2:2 (ESV)—“Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”
Silhouette of pine trees against a deep blue sky with stars and northern lights

When I travel, I usually have a destination in mind. Hotel booked. Tickets purchased. Stops along the route planned. Only once have my husband and I traveled in a random direction with no plan.

I imagine the Wise Men didn’t have their trip planned. They set their eyes on the star and “traveled afar,” as the song says. And they journeyed with their only plan being to worship baby Jesus, the king of the Jews.

In my life, I often have to metaphorically travel toward Jesus. I fall out of practice in reading my Bible and have to start again. I forget to pray about big decisions and a day later ask for God’s forgiveness for not coming to him first and I seek his guidance. I feel anxiety and have to read Bible verses to remind myself of God’s greatness.

No matter my physical, mental, or emotional state, the star of Jesus shines bright as a guiding point. The star leads me to a place of worship, the destination where I can sit at the cross in God’s mercy and glory.

I encourage you to travel toward Jesus today. If you feel lost, if you feel ecstatic, if you feel torn up or some other emotion, repeat this verse and say, “I have come to worship him.”

I pray your Christmas season is full of worship!

The Bible: Our Saguaro Cactus

Saguaro cacti in Saguaro National Park
Jeremiah 17:7–8 (NIV)— “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”

Several years ago, my husband and I road-tripped to Arizona for Thanksgiving with family. Along the way, we stopped at sites such as the White Sands National Monument (now a national park), Casa Grande Ruins National Monument, and Saguaro National Park. I had no idea the height of saguaro cacti until I stood next to one, gazing up in awe and slight disbelief. And once I did some research, I found this cactus to be a great example of the power of God’s Word.

The saguaro cactus is like a well of living water in the dry, arid desert. This cactus absorbs and stores rainwater for use over time. Woodpeckers, elf owls, and other birds build nests inside the cactus. Wildlife visit the cactus to partake of its pollen, nectar, and fruit. Others such as jackrabbits and mule deer eat its flesh when food and water are scarce.

The Bible is our saguaro cactus in the desert, a source of life, a well of living water. When we drink of the water, we can know the power of our living God. God’s Word prepares us for all situations in our lives from losing a job to starting a new one, from building a new friendship to losing an old one, from grieving someone’s death to celebrating a baby’s birth.

The Scriptures feed us courage in the face of fear: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9, NIV).

The Scriptures strengthen our faith when we make a home for his Word in our minds: “Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ” (Romans 10:17, NIV).

The Scriptures feed our fellowship with other believers: “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16, NIV).

The Scriptures are our living water in the desert. The Holy Spirit feeds our minds with information we need to live according to God’s Word, and when we drink, we become stronger in mind, faith, and fellowship.

Saguaro cacti in Saguaro National Park

Attitude of Thanksgiving and Praise

Psalm 100:4 (ESV)—"Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise. Give thanks to Him, bless His name."
the sun shining through the leaves of a tree
a view out the front window of a car, rain splattering the windshield, trees on both sides of the road

Months ago, I booked accommodation four hours from home for my hubby and I to enjoy a weekend of hiking and fall colors. While the fall colors part came true, the hiking did not. Rain poured down. All. Day. Long. I sat on the porch swing and read a book while my hubby napped, though I eventually went inside because of the chill in the air. We also ate dinner out, though the drive through the country in the dark and rain made for slow going and white-knuckling the steering wheel (or so I assume; I sat in the passenger seat and hoped for a safe arrival and return to and from the restaurant).

I admit, my attitude wasn’t pristine during this trip; I couldn’t seem to enter “His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise.” God had given me a weekend with my hubby to explore a new area, and rather than cheer, I held disappointment in my heart. Yes, we shared moments of joy, such as when I saw a sign proclaiming the hometown of a famous actor/writer/singer. We also ate at a burger joint in the middle of nowhere, one I’d had on my travel list for a while.

After a night, we decided to cut our weekend short and spend the final day at home. On the drive home, we located the grave of famous actor/writer/singer, my interest piqued because he voice-acted in one of my favorite Christmas movies. The following day, we read books in our cozy chairs and visited the local coffee shop for pastries—a scandalous Monday, for sure. We delighted in being with one another, as we’d planned in the first place. On this day, I thanked God and gave him praise.

Comparing the two days, I see the discrepancy in my attitude and know I have room for improvement. The rainbows-and-sunshine moments allow for ease of giving thanks and praise. The dense fog of negativity makes for fight-or-flight moments when I can choose to dwell in the dank dimness or I can choose God, a light that never dims but waits for me in all circumstances.

Walking an Upward Path

A cross set at the top of a mountain trail in Glenwood Springs, Colorado
Proverbs 15:24 (ESV)—The path of life leads upward for the prudent, that he may turn away from Sheol beneath.

Proverbs 15:24 (GNT)—Wise people walk the road that leads upward to life, not the road that leads downward to death.
A dirt hiking path lined with aspens with yellow leaves

In Glenwood Springs, Colorado, I hiked the Red Mountain Trail, a moderate trail with a steady climb on a zigzag path about three and a half miles long. About halfway up the trail, I huffed and puffed, admiring the panoramic vistas but questioning my husband, “Should we turn back?” while we stopped to rest at an overlook. My eyes scanned upward, backward, and I decided we’d come to Colorado to hike, to see the fall colors, so hike we did. Right to the top, where a metal cross stood to mark our victory. We endured.

The path of life is like a trail that tests our endurance. The bends bring surprises—of beauty and of pain. In the beauty, it’s easy for us to move on. Out of breath, low on energy, we question our ability to move forward or we wonder why we’ve chosen this path in the first place. Then we reach an overlook that displays the vastness of our choice and we find the energy to go on.

Moving forward brings us closer to God, and he gives us the tools to endure until we reach the foot of the cross and our eternal reward. In our struggles, he brings us peace when we put our minds on him. His peace protects our hearts and minds. When his peace rules our hearts, we can reach the cross through all of life’s circumstances. We can endure.

A view of the town of Glenwood Springs, Colorado from a mountain hiking path

Scattering Light

Proverbs 27:19 (ESV)—As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects the man.

Gravel and dirt create swirls of black on a blue-and-white canvas on the icebergs floating in Jökulsárlón glacier lagoon. The blue of the iceberg comes from older layers of snow compressed into crystals. When light penetrates the iceberg, the crystals scatter the blue light.

Like the iceberg, I have swirls of black on the canvas of my life—a mix of the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. To me, the most important are the marks from the fruit of the spirit. These outward marks provide a picture of my heart to other people and to God. More important, when my attitudes and actions point toward God, I myself grow closer to him. I want to become like a crystal that absorbs God’s love and scatters his light.

Wisdom and Waterfalls

James 1:6 (NIV)—But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

My husband and I walked the trail to Rainbow Falls in the Great Smoky Mountains, unsure of the exact location of the waterfall. We crossed a bridge at a smaller waterfall, but, for some reason, we didn’t believe this to be the waterfall we sought. We trudged farther along the trail. Our legs grew tired, the trail seemed to go on and on, and we wanted nothing more than to see this waterfall. Soon, we met with other hikers, who pointed us in the direction from which we’d come.

It’s funny the things we doubt for no particular reason. We wear ourselves out, and it’s as if we’ve been bowled over by a wave while trying to figure out the situation.

If only we’d asked God for wisdom before we began our task. Surely this would save us some stress.

But when we don’t believe at first, we can learn from the situation, find the joy our trial, and still seek wisdom from God. We may be tired, confused, or exasperated, but we can rest easy knowing we’ve put the situation into God’s hands.

Wandering a Maze

Jeremiah 14:10 (NIV)—This is what the Lord says about this people: “They greatly love to wander; they do not restrain their feet. So the Lord does not accept them; he will now remember their wickedness and punish them for their sins.”

It’s fall again! And one of my favorite harvest-time activities is wandering through a corn maze. My hubby and make a night of it—the maze followed by dinner at a local restaurant—or even a weekend break, exploring a new area for a couple of days. (I’ll use anything as an excuse for another adventure!)

We wander each and every path of the maze, searching for the checkpoints. Each trail offers a new adventure to unexplored paths and hours of fun. Sooner or later, the last checkpoint becomes elusive and we have to stop and consider the path we’ve followed and where we haven’t been.

Much the same, the people of Judah lost themselves in maze of their own sins. Even though they repented, they chose, over and over, the path of sin. Though they checked in with God, their efforts were half-hearted and they chose the path away from God’s covenant with them.

If only they’d stopped at a checkpoint and truly considered their position.

God sets out checkpoints to guide us on our journey with him. He gives us time to check in and ask, “What path do I take? Am I on your path?” The checkpoint may be a time of rest, of listening, of a new action, of a step toward God’s path, of solitude, of silence, or perhaps something else. No matter our place in our journey with God, God holds firm to his promises when we choose the path he sets before us.

Between Heaven and Earth

Philippians 1:23–24 (NIV)—I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.

In Iceland, the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates rise above the surface of the earth in Þingvellir National Park. I walked the boardwalk between the two continents, head swiveling back and forth while I adjusted camera settings, pointed, and clicked. I wanted to live in the moment and capture the memories, because when else would I have the opportunity to stand between the continents? Probably never, because Iceland is the only place on the earth where the tectonic plates sit above sea level.

There is another place we, as Christians, stand: between heaven and earth. We have the ultimate example of standing between heaven and earth in the Apostle Paul, who strove to live between his ministry on earth and his reward in heaven. He found joy and encouragement in the spreading of the Gospel and in his fellow believers. He filled others with joy and encouragement through his letters. His life pointed to Christ, despite the metaphorical earthquakes of imprisonment and possible death.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians shows that our chance to stand between heaven and earth has no bounds. We are to mimic Christ in all situations. We are to live with our lives pointed to heaven.

Sheep in the Middle of the Road: Caution!

Jeremiah 8:4–6 (NIV)—“Say to them, ‘This is what the Lord says: “‘When people fall down, do they not get up? When someone turns away, do they not return? Why then have these people turned away? Why does Jerusalem always turn away? They cling to deceit; they refuse to return. I have listened attentively, but they do not say what is right. None of them repent of their wickedness, saying, “What have I done?” Each pursues their own course like a horse charging into battle.
Two sheep butting heads and one sitting in the grass in front of the pseudocraters in Iceland

Before traveling to Iceland, my husband and I watched a comical cartoon video about driving in Iceland. One of the most memorable parts was a car running into a sheep and the sheep toppling over the car. Another part of the video detailed the blind crests and curves, showing one car crashing into the back of another. The important message came through: use care when driving and know the rules of the road.

Charging headfirst into Iceland without this knowledge speaks of disaster waiting to happen, and I can reliably inform you that sheep do roam freely around every bend in Iceland and tourists do stop their vehicles in the middle of the road to catch of glimpse of the sheep and the scenery.

I can imagine Jeremiah 8 as a cautionary video montage of dead bodies lying in the sun, statues of gods falling on top of people, the leaves of fig trees withering, a mass of people clutching their stomachs from hunger, and the voice-over repeatedly saying, “Repent! Ask, ‘What have I done?’”

Yet the people of Judah ignored God, instead stopping in the middle of the road to gaze at their foreign idols, among their other sins. They did not truly know God’s law and did not ask him to explain.

As God’s people, we can ask God how we ran into a sheep in the middle of the road. God wants us to ask, “What have I done?” and to repent. For when we ask, when we study God’s word, when we meditate on it, we receive answers and can stand up again and return to walking God’s path.

A bend in Route 1 in Iceland with mountains on one side of the road

Restoration: A Hope and a Future

The Kerid crater in Iceland
The Kerid crater in Iceland
Jeremiah 29:14 (ESV)—I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.

Thousands of years ago, a cone-shaped volcano, Kerið, erupted, emptying its reserve of magma. The volcano’s cone then collapsed into the empty space, forming today’s Kerið crater. Sometime after the collapse, the chamber filled with water, and not muddy, brown water, but aquamarine water, colored by the minerals in the rocks. This tourist attraction has an embankment with streaks of red from iron deposits, and moss grows along the slope.

At times, we may feel as if our own life has erupted and emptied its magma chamber. We feel depleted and empty, alone and sorrowful, dreadful and tired. The weight becomes too much to bear, and the collapse shakes us even more. The emptiness presses in, filling our souls with muddy, brown water. Trusting in God in this moment feels like lifting a large boulder. Impossible.

But it’s not impossible. God wants us to seek him and find him. Then, amid the chaos of life, God offers us restoration, an aquamarine light at the end of the tunnel, a beautiful painting in tones of red, a glimpse of life among the rocky soil. He offers us a hope and a future; he offers to bring us back from our exile.