Devoted to Love

Romans 12:10 (ESV)—Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.

Immediately, in the car, God prodded me: Apologize. He said I should have swallowed my wants (not quite as tasty as my snacks), paid for the drinks in my hand, and left the store without looking further. He finished with, “Honor one another above yourselves.”

Yep, one of those memory verses I’d tucked away, a verse about love that applies to every relationship, not just spousal ones. This characteristic of Christ allows us to be humble, to sacrifice our selfishness for the wants of another. Humility helps us to push aside our worldly feelings and love with zeal, joy, and faith. And we can sacrifice these human faults to live as Christ did because we have the peace of knowing Christ overcame the world (John 16:33).

On this day, I sinned. But I chose to turn from the darkness and walk in the light (1 John 1:7), to apologize for my behavior of not honoring another above myself. My hubby forgave me—and for good measure, we sealed the deal with a kiss.

Christmas Traditions, Old and New

In years past, my hubby and I walked a Christmas tree home from the grocery store. This tradition changed last year when the local grocery store, only a couple of blocks from our home, stopped selling pine trees. That tradition ended (sigh) with a tree purchased from another nearby store and hauled home in the trunk of the car.

Come this year, neither store stocked Christmas trees (double sigh). And wanting the blissful pine smell—and not only from a wax melt—my hubby and I hopped in the car and ventured to a nearby Christmas tree farm. The trees stood in the barn like a line of stately nutcracker soldiers, no Charlie Brown trees in sight. We picked out a lovely fir and loaded it in the trunk for the journey home.

After carrying the tree inside, we fastened it into the iron tree stand my mom passed down to me. She received it from her parents. Tree snug and sturdy, I got my Christmas on, hanging baubles on branches, reminiscing of travels past, while listening to Christmas music, a yearly event I thoroughly enjoy. And since decorating, I’ve buried my nose in the branches a time or two for a whiff of piney goodness.

I love my Christmas traditions and the joy they bring. But Christmas is more than earthly traditions. It’s a celebration of the birth baby Jesus, the Light of the World. And to celebrate, I think it’s time to light up my life with new traditions: reminiscing about my spiritual journey this past year, celebrating my successes with a prayer of thankfulness, or spending more time with my nose in the Good Book rather than in the tree.

Merry Christmas! I pray your traditions bring you joy and light!

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.

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.

Sunset Promise: Light in the Darkness

Genesis 1:5 (ESV)—And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness.
A sunset over the ocean, with palm trees in the foreground, on the island of Maui

I am a sunset person. The sun rises far to early for me to jump out of my comfy bed while I’m on vacation—or at home, for that matter. I love the colors streaking across the sky, the rays peeking out from behind clouds, the awe of the moment as people gather to watch the spectacle of the sun sinking below the horizon.

The sunset promises light in the darkness. The darkness reveals more of God’s magnificent creation. The moon smiles down at us. The stars wink from their stage in the sky. Planets glow. All these are reminders of God’s power and the light he shines on us, even in our darkest hour.

A sunset over the ocean in Kihei, on the island of Maui