Lately, I have spent a fair amount of time searching for the unexpected. Normally, I would not have to search very long or hard in order to experience the unexpected, but in this instance I needed to come up with something appropriate for the 2013 Youth Councils theme: “Unexpected.”

A cryptic message from a fortune cookie at my favorite “fast casual” Asian restaurant encouraged me in my quest: “You will find your solution where you least expect  it.” An intriguing paradox for sure; finding things in the most unexpected places. A concept not unlike losing your life to find it, the last being first, or the requirement that those seeking greatness must first become servants of all. On another occasion, I might have enjoyed pursuing such a path in exploring this topic but I was drawn to consider the unexpected as recorded in Acts chapters 3-4.

There we find a man disabled from birth who expects Peter and John to give him some money as the two disciples pass through the gate called “beautiful” on their way to afternoon prayers.

But on this particular day, instead of receiving a few sympathetic coins, a miracle happens. An unexpected act of kindness takes place. The disabled man is made whole. He is able to walk for the first time in his life. And, as you would expect, he is absolutely elated.

The onlookers who witness this unexpected miracle are completely awe-struck—filled with surprise, wonder and amazement. They can’t believe what they are seeing. Meanwhile, the religious leaders of the day are both dismayed and astonished by this miracle. They cannot understand how uneducated, ordinary men like Peter and John could possibly be used by God to accomplish such things.

As always, the Bible is crystal clear: It is not the “power or godliness” of Peter and John that heals this man but God’s power; the power of Jesus’ name at work doing unexpected things through them (Acts 3:12 NIV).

I believe that God is searching today for unexpected potential in unexpected people who are willing to do unexpected things for his kingdom. Like Peter and John, we are God’s silver and gold. We are the very best God has to offer a sin-sick, weary world where unexpected, often unwelcome and sometimes profoundly disturbing events threaten to rob us of our humanity.

In recent days we have seen incredible heroism, compassion and kindness directed toward those impacted by these unexpected events. In every case, the consecrated self we offer in service to others is always the most personal, the most powerful, the most precious gift we bring. It is a treasure we carry in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us (2 Corinthians 4:7).

Through the love of God our Savior all will be well;

Though we pass through tribulation, all will be well;

We expect  a bright tomorrow, all will be well.

Mary Peters (1813-56)

Having just recalled and celebrated the Easter season, I am reminded of the Scripture in Acts 2:42, which is the definition of the early Christian church: They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. This verse of Scripture occurs just after Pentecost when the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples and they were set on a path to win the world for Jesus.

These individuals who walked with Jesus during his ministry had now experienced the truth that Jesus was alive. They knew without a doubt that God had fulfilled his promise of a Messiah who would redeem the world—and them.

One of the phrases in the New International Version of this account of Pentecost is that the disciples were all together in one place. While this implies that they were in the same room, I think about us as his disciples, hoping that the “one place” we are together is in asking for the Spirit to guide, teach, and encourage us in our faith.

In recent days, we had the opportunity to visit the corps in Bishop, Calif. This is a relatively new corps, deep into the canyons of the beautiful state where we live. In a storefront building, this Sunday about 60 people gathered to worship and to share in breakfast together. Actually, the day began with coffee brewing and the smell of bacon filling the few rooms called a corps. We noticed that a few families began to arrive and many single individuals, who we soon learned were members of the homeless population in that small town of 4,000. Someone once told me that the only difference with homeless people and the rest of us is that they do not have an address and we do.

As breakfast was being prepared, Sunday school classes began with studies that would encourage our faith and understanding of God’s love for us. Soon there was a lively discussion of God’s provision and evidence that those in the room were hoping that these truths would pertain to them.

We then began to break bread (in reality) together. Plates were piled high with eggs, bacon, French toast and pastries. Men, women, and children had enough to eat with food enough for “take-out” when the service was over.

We began to sing and praise, and listen to the Word of God. The atmosphere in the room was one of reverence even though the occasional sip of the coffee cup could be heard. As the message was being preached, I noticed a young woman weeping at the table where her empty plate sat. A soldier of the congregation slipped next to her and simply held her hand. It was a sign of beautiful fellowship.

When the invitation was given to pray at the mercy seat, without hesitation, people went to seek the Lord. As I prayed with a young woman, her prayer was simple: she said she had been pushing the Lord away from her and just didn’t want to do that anymore. She asked Jesus to come into her life and her tears were for remorse and release.

We were all together in one place. God was present and moved in the hearts of all of us. We found ourselves living the Scripture in Acts 2:42: we were devoting ourselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.

As I am aging in place, I am finding one thing that is becoming dull is my hearing. My real hearing is just fine. It’s my selective hearing that is fading quickly. My wife will tell me to get a certain product at the store, and I come back with the complete opposite of what she told me to get. When I am asked about my rationale as to why I came back with the wrong product, I tend to use the default phrase: “I didn’t hear you.” If I were honest there is a better phrase that I could say: “I didn’t pay attention to you.”

The noise level in my life has greatly increased. I find myself bombarded with information all day long. We all are interrupted with sights and sounds and smells that send our senses into orbit. Even while we sleep, our cell phones buzz away with incoming messages that just can’t seem to wait. Noise has invaded. To find a few moments of peace and quiet can be a struggle.

Sometimes we followers of Jesus Christ use selective hearing. We only want to hear from God what we want to hear and not what God is truly saying to us. We think that knowing God is more important than listening to him. Or sometimes we tritely say that “God told me to do this and do that,” when it really wasn’t God at all, rather ourselves cloaking it all in God-speak. We can mistakenly think that God only works in the shouting—in noisy worship meetings and busy lives “full of ministry.” But, truth be told, God works best in communicating to us in the silence.

Elijah had a hearing problem also. After battling the prophets of Baal, this brave prophet of God went into a tailspin of doubt and depression. In his depressed state he attempted to run from God, but he certainly couldn’t hide. God questions him: “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:9). Obviously a trick question! Elijah goes on to pout before the living God about how there is no one else that is as faithful as himself. He was the only one doing the right thing.

God helped Elijah get some perspective by sending him away to Mt. Horeb where he produced some signs and wonders: hurricane force winds ripping mountains apart, earthquakes and even fire.

The passage states that God was not in the wind, the earthquake nor in the fire. In 1 Kings 19:12 we find God speaking, depending on the translation, in a still small voice (KJV), a gentle whisper (NIV), a sound of gentle blowing (NASB), a sound of sheer silence (NRSV) or a light murmuring sound (NJB). God did not reveal himself to Elijah in a powerful way. On the contrary, he came to Elijah in the quiet, in a whisper.

We can easily become enmeshed in the banner of “doing the most good,” which can make us too busy to truly hear from God. Perhaps it’s time for you and me to just slow down a bit—learn to hear God again. Taking time to step back from our busy lives is vital. To open up the ears of our heart to once again listen—truly listen to what God is quietly speaking to us. Listen for his guidance. His guiding hand moves in our lives when we least expect it.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will go in and eat with him, and he with me” (Rev. 3:20).

I celebrate with you a Salvation Army that opens its doors to all of humanity. In our meetings, Salvationists delight in hearing the stories of folks who have joined our fellowship from a variety of entry points and various stages of moral purity. We are an inclusive Salvation Army. With that truth in mind, may I humbly suggest the time is now for The Salvation Army to fling open its doors a bit wider and more aggressively reach out to groups not traditionally identified with our movement? I’m speaking of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender (LGBT) community.

Connecting the LGBT community with The Salvation Army will be no easy task. Part of the problem is perception. A sizable portion of the LGBT community views The Salvation Army as being hostile. This perception of the Army is both inaccurate and unfortunate. The reality is that the vast majority of officers, soldiers and employees of the Army are anxious to positively engage the LGBT community. Indeed, The Salvation Army carries out many programs and services that directly benefit the LGBT community and does so, as The Salvation Army mission statement declares, “without discrimination.” However, I think it is still up to us to be proactive in breaking down barriers in order to more effectively communicate our best intentions.

Not every Salvationist will be anxious to see the Army reach out to the LGBT community. Much of that reticence is based on the interpretation of the Bible by many sincere and mature believers. I am not insensitive to the theological difficulties that the issue of homosexuality raises for many, but my view is that Salvationists need to think differently on this subject as we move into the 21st century. The time has come for us to engage in a meaningful internal dialogue (without rancor and judgment) that focuses less on the theological or Biblical arguments for or against homosexuality (and there is a wide interpretation on the subject among many Salvationists and Christian denominations) and more fully on how Christians can meaningfully and lovingly engage members of the LGBT community seeking a closer relationship with Jesus. Indeed, Wesleyan Christianity has long demonstrated that Scripture ought to be constantly reexamined and re-applied in light of the ministry of the Holy Spirit and in tandem with human reason, church tradition and experience. The cheerful inclusion of the LGBT community into our fellowship does not require every Salvationist to change the core principles of faith or interpretation of the Bible. What is required, in my view, is that God’s people put aside the stereotypes and biases of the past that have often made the church an obstacle, rather than a haven, for members of the LGBT community seeking fellowship in the body of Christ.

The LGBT community makes up a small percentage of the population and, despite our best efforts, few are likely to flock to The Salvation Army anytime soon. And yet, a proactive and accommodating response to the holistic needs of the LGBT community, sprinkled with a heavy dose of God’s love and grace, will send a powerful and positive message to a community that is generally untrusting of our great movement. The answer to the question of how The Salvation Army ought to best engage the LGBT community is not going away. How will we respond?

The generations of young people coming up in the Army show evidence of being more passionate about their faith, biblically centered, and accommodating to different communities than mine. My expectation is that these emerging generations of young Salvationists are going to exceed my best efforts in every way, including a nobler embrace of the LGBT community. However, I’d like to show my kids that even dad can rework his paradigm.

I’ve been on a journey of faith for 50 years. Along the way, I’ve had to address my own personal struggles, prejudices, phobias and biases. While still a work in progress, I declare with the hymnist that, “I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene, and wonder how he could love me, a sinner, condemned, unclean.” My prayer remains, “Create in me a new heart Lord, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Ps. 51:10). Friends, I want to grow, mature, and be more loving, particularly toward those to whom I have been less than sensitive and understanding.

Here is my final challenge to anyone still reading (and I am speaking only for myself): If God has a place for me to worship and serve alongside my family in The Salvation Army, why not equally a member of the LGBT community? The impulses of my heart lead me to make an urgent call on the Army of the West to fling open the front entries of its chapels a little wider. Let’s send a clarion call that everyone is unconditionally welcomed to enter, fellowship and serve in The Army of the Open Door.

In the gospel account of the crucifixion and resurrection of our Savior, Jesus, I often wonder, “What was he thinking?”

As a man, he was a young 33 years old; as the Creator, he was older than time. The account reveals that he limited his glory as a human being so that he could fulfill the instructions of his Father. The plan included death on a cross just when he was coming into his stride as a human.

“Now, Father? Does it have to be now, and does it have to be this way? I’ll be disgraced in their eyes and degraded by the soldiers and accusers. Is there a better way, or at least a different way?”

Then he said the words I want to say, and the words I wish everyone would utter, “Nevertheless, thy will be done.” And he acquiesced to God’s plan over his own personal concerns.

What was he thinking when his accusers charged him of crimes deserving death? He would be present to judge the living and the dead, and yet they were judging him. The judgment was from some drummed-up standard—convenient to use when the “guilty” party was really innocent. Sure, most prisoners claim innocence, but Jesus actually knew no sin. This is why he was perfect for the responsibilities at hand. He took our place. Our sin, which is to say disobedience toward God, is deserving of being dispelled from God’s presence—that is death. Jesus’ concerted efforts to follow God’s will had to have been strong to trump his own issues.

What was he thinking when they made him carry his own cross to Golgotha? Every step was challenging and painful. At one point, a brother emerged from the crowd to help, but in every way it was Jesus’ cross to bear. It was all uphill.

What do you imagine he was thinking when they laid him on the cross to nail him in place? Again, it was a place only he could have taken—a place of torture, agony and imminent death. The soldiers lifted the cross to its spot where Jesus then hung from this wooden structure designed for humiliation, punishment and cessation.

What was he thinking about the criminal justice system? What was he thinking about the agents of a government that would treat God’s creation with such contempt?

He saw his mother and his followers, and their incredulity toward the situation but full conviction toward the Savior and the son. What might Jesus have thought about them? Did he detect fear, horror, helplessness? Did any of these thoughts enter his own mind for himself?

He saw his death coming. What was he thinking? He entered the pit of hell. What was he thinking?

In three short days—the timeframe he designed for our structured lives—he emerged from his tomb alive and well. His hands, feet and body were healed. He saw the sunlight of his doing and triumphed as a conqueror, the Christ, and the Savior of all mankind.

What was on his mind? You.

Through it all, he was thinking of you. He was focused on his love for the Father and for each of us created in the image of God. His powerful love for us was the strength he needed to say “yes” to God, the Father, and hold his breath before his accusers. He cried for our forgiveness as he hung impaled on the cross, declared salvation for a criminal on the next cross and held out great hope for his family and friends who witnessed not only his death, but his glory.

The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin so that he’d see life come from it—life, life, and more life. And GOD’s plan will deeply prosper through him. Out of that terrible travail of soul, he’ll see that it’s worth it and be glad he did it (Isa. 53:10-11 MSG).

All along, he was thinking of you. How you think of him offers you a choice to receive such powerful love that generates life. What is on your mind?

I couldn’t help pointing out the bold letters!

I often hear, “I wish we were still called League of Mercy.” But we’re not. Nor are we called “Community Care.” Let’s do it right—we are Community Care Ministries, and it’s my job to encourage all aspects of this foundational ministry of The Salvation Army.

The other day, while traveling in the car, my husband exercised his best known gift on me. He asked me questions! He asked about the role of Community Care Ministries and what I was doing to further it in this territory. What do I see as the role for CC Ministries? This is like one of those surveys. Check the answer you most agree with:

1. To give Christmas and Easter gifts to nursing home residents. It has to be reported on the statistical form, so we must do it.

2. To reach people in the community who may be lonely or isolated and visit them. It could be done by Salvationists, advisory board members, well-heeled volunteers, young people, ARC residents, social service clients.

3. To give boundless ministry opportunities to Salvationists and friends.

So what is your answer?

Well, number one is true. There are many lonely people who love to be visited by a gift giver at special times—Easter, Christmas, Veterans’ day, just-because-I-care day. And if the corps doesn’t do it and record it, somebody will ask why.

One line on the statistical form can send me sky high in two seconds—the one that says “acts of kindness without personal contact.” What is that? The definition says it’s sending a card or handing a bottle of water to a marathoner. That statistic, which incidentally seems to be the only one that is showing consistent growth, should disappear, and this is how we do it: Add in a personal contact to every one of those acts of kindness! Show them we care—make it a ministry.

And number two is correct, too. Program Secretary Lt. Colonel Edward Hill recently shared about a lady who had no faith but was invited to share in the nursing home gift giving at a corps. It led to…well that’s his story! But by involving people who have never done ministry we could open their hearts. After all, you don’t have to be a Salvationist to do CC Ministry. Show them we care—make it a ministry.

And number three is correct, too. Our vision has become tunneled and we limit our imaginations sometimes when it comes to CC Ministries. Millions of acts of kindness waiting to be done—simple things: a coupon corner for the social services, provided by corps folk, sorted by young people, used by the needy; a button sewing circle; a smoke detector battery changing brigade; an alley clean up group. You have imaginations and the only thing that you need to do to make it CC Ministry is show them we care—make it a ministry.

It’s scriptural. It’s Holy Spirit inspired. It’s simply the right thing to do.

In Matthew 25:40 we read these words of Jesus: “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

Show them we care—make it a ministry.

I have overheard some ridiculous questions in my life—one recently at Disneyland when an obviously distressed mother asked her child, “Do you think we are here to play around?”

I wanted to answer the question for the child, by saying, “Of course we are—we’re at Disneyland!” Now I know there was more to the story, but on surface, the question was silly.

Jesus, in John 5:1-9, posed a seemingly ridiculous question to a man who had been an invalid for 38 years. He asked, “Do you want to get well?” Are you kidding me? After 38 years, of course the man wanted to be healed. Who wouldn’t want to be?

However, like the mother at Disneyland, there was more to the situation than met the eye. It is important to note the man did not answer the question; rather, he responded by outlining the problems he faced. He could not get to the pool fast enough. Other people were standing in his way. He had no one to help him. It was not his fault—other people were the problem. The question Jesus asked was a very insightful one.

“Do you want to get well?” Jesus knew that many people actually learn to enjoy their problems. It gives them an excuse for not performing, for failure, for living a life unpleasing to God. “I cannot succeed because I am [fill in the blank].” Excuses are where you find them.

“Do you want to get well?” The man had not attempted to move on or investigate other solutions to his long-term illness. He prefered the “status quo” to a change in tactic. He was now little more than a professional beggar.

“Do you want to get well?” The man had no one to help him, feeling abandoned and alone. His first words to Jesus were, “I have no one to help me.” Is it any wonder that we can sense a hardness of heart, cynicism, anger and hopelessness in the man?

It is not difficult to understand the man, as we tend to think that time produces hopelessness. Surely the longer a person is sick, the less likely it is that he or she will get well. The longer a person is an addict, the less likely the individual will remain clean and sober. The longer a person has lived in sin, the less likely that person will come to Christ. We have all the statistics to show that we must win people to Christ when they are young or the chances diminish. The argument is sound on the basis of what we know. But God is the master of difficult situations just like this one. What is humanly impossible, God loves to do.

It is interesting that Jesus did not debate the man’s false theology; he simply told him to get up and take his mattress and walk. Do not miss the absence of faith. The man did not ask for help, he showed no faith, and he did not even know who Jesus was. While faith is essential to please God, God does not limit his goodness only to those who have faith. God causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good (Matt. 5:45).

Ask yourself the following questions: Why did Jesus choose this man from among all the others? Where was his faith? Why did Jesus go there in the first place? The answer to these questions and many more is the same—God’s grace.

What is it that prevents us from saying yes to the question? Do we lack the moral courage, confidence, conviction and faith to take the risks involved in moving forward? Are we too comfortable and too ready to take the “less than best” option rather than strive for God’s best for our lives? Can we face the question that Jesus asks—do we really want to be well?

My end-of-year reading often includes articles with “transition” themes. They are usually articles about well-known people who died during the previous year. As I read one of these pieces, a phrase caught my eye: “died of complications.”

During the last year and a half, lots of people “died of complications,” among them, Supreme Court Nominee Robert Bork, Retired Army General “Stormin” Norman Schwarzkopf, television actors Larry Hagman (“Dallas”) and David Nelson (“Ozzie and Harriet”), Former U.S. Senator Arlen Specter,  “Where the Wild Things Are” author Maurice Sendak, and even Apple founder Steve Jobs. All of them “died of complications.”

Complications can kill you.

I remember how the response by three men to Jesus’ claim on their lives was complicated by their personal priorities and self-serving interests. Luke reports that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem when he met these three men and called them to follow him. I have long wondered whether the complications by which each man qualified his response to Jesus resulted in gaining life with Christ or whether the complications cost each one his life.

The first man claimed he would follow Jesus anywhere. But Jesus warned him that he should count the cost before he made such a sweeping statement. Following him anywhere, Jesus said, would complicate the man’s life in unsettling and uncertain ways (Luke 9:57).

Nevertheless, Jesus then turned to the second man and urged him to follow. But this man’s willingness to follow Jesus was complicated by the expectations of others. He was expected to fulfill his obligations to his father (Luke 9:59), and that expectation seemed to take precedence over following Jesus.

The third man volunteered that he was willing to follow Jesus—but he had some personal matters that needed his attention. Jesus’ message was, “Go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60). This man responded, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family” (Luke 9:61). Jesus felt that if this were the man’s response, the man was unfit for service in the kingdom of God. It was one complication too many.

My life is full of complications—complications about the cost of discipleship in my own life and particularly as it impacts my family. There are complications because of my need to please people and to meet their expectations. Complications because I’m selfish—protective of my own pleasures, defensive of my own place and eager for recognition and affirmation. All of these things complicate my life and keep me from Christ’s side.

I always hoped that the first man did weigh the cost and followed Jesus in spite of that cost. I have wanted to believe that the second man did let the dead bury their dead and decided that sharing the good news about Jesus had priority. I have imagined that when the third man heard Jesus question his fitness for service he decided not to turn back and instead kept his eyes fixed on Jesus.

I keep hoping, believing, and imagining the best for these men because the alternative is so awful. The complications might have cost them their lives. In Christ there is life, but without him there is no life at all. I also like to think that if one of these men made the right choice in the end—then just maybe I’ll make the right decisions on my journey to the new Jerusalem.

We all have memories of Christmas past. The first poem I ever memorized and recited in public was a Christmas verse by Christina Rossetti. It is one of the few poems I can still remember by heart:

What can I give him,

Poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd

I’d bring a lamb.

If I were a wise man

I’d do my part.

What can I give him?

I’ll give him my heart.

What would Christmas be without the children? They seem to reflect what is best and worst about the season; generosity and greed. I remember being consumed with jealousy one Christmas. I was 5 years old. My 6-year-old sister was given a beautiful blue skirt: the kind of skirt you can twirl around in; a skirt that floated on the air and you could imagine that you were a ballerina or, even better, a figure skater gliding across the ice. It was a wonderful skirt. And as my sister whirled around the Christmas tree, I became increasingly jealous. I wanted that skirt! Thank God for mothers who aren’t uptight about gender-specific clothing. My mother borrowed the skirt from my generous sister who watched impatiently as I spun around the living room in all my glory. It’s one of those stories that I’ve tried to forget, but families have long memories.

Parents will go to great lengths to make Christmas a magical experience for their children. Most parents end up buying things for their kids that they always wanted as children but never had. I think that was the case when my father bought a Shetland pony and saddle for $100. It was the perfect gift for a family that had always lived in the city and had rarely seen a horse. But we lived in Kansas at the time, and it looked so simple for Adam, Hoss and Little Joe Cartwright on “Bonanza,” so why not?

On Christmas Eve we had “all settled down for a long winter’s nap when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter.” Actually, as the four of us children looked out the second story window we saw a familiar figure trying to coax a large animal across the brick sidewalk. Apparently, this particular pony had never seen a brick sidewalk before and had no intention of taking a step forward. The sound of snorts and hooves and my father’s soft, angry voice no doubt reached the ears of our neighbors as well. But in the end, our pony, which we named “Toy,” gave in to my father’s persistence and was led happily into her new stable that, until then, had only been a garage.

Each holiday season, as a corps officer, my father would inevitably deliver his version of what I call “The true meaning of Christmas” sermon. I can still hear my father’s voice as he concluded his version of this message: “Beautiful as are the lights, the familiar carols in the snowy night, these are not the real Christmas. It is not Christ in the manger that makes Christmas but Christ in the heart.”

Years later it was my turn to reflect upon the meaning of this most magical holiday:

Wanting to reach us, to touch us, to hold us.

Trying so hard in his infinite way.

Longing to know how it feels to be human,

God became man on Christmas day.

Wanting to share with us love from the father.

Trying to show us that someone’s still there.

Longing to melt our cold hearts with his spirit,

God became man to prove that he cares.

God wants to reach you, to touch you, to hold you.

He’s trying so hard in his infinite way.

He knows how you feel for he became human.

He wants you to love him on this Christmas day.

Chorus

The message of Christmas is written with love.

For a world so unworthy came light from above.

And today just as bright as the star in that sky

May the message of Christmas my soul magnify.

(Doughty)

Do something that will restore the wonder and awe of the holidays to your life. Don’t let this season pass by without experiencing the memories, the magic and the message of this most wonderful time of the year.

The Knaggs family is greatly anticipating the arrival of a new baby boy. This little guy has been on our minds for almost nine months; we cannot wait to see his tiny face. Jaden Michael will be our fourth grandchild, the second grandson. These are great days of wonder and excitement as we pray and ponder what his new life will develop into.

We are making it a priority of our family that he will know about Jesus. We will all help to teach manners, good grooming, and how to play nice. It is always thrilling to be with someone who has a whole life of potential in front of him. As a grandmother, I want to be able to show love and laughter, and to encourage his new mind to look to Jesus. We’ve learned in our family that this is the only way to find true contentment.

As we enter the blessed Christmas season, I am reminded of Simeon, in Luke 2, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Bible says, The Holy Spirit was upon him. It was revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. Can you imagine such a confirmation from the Spirit?

So, one day, Simeon was moved by the Spirit of God to go into the temple courts. When Jesus’ parents brought the child to Simeon, this saint of God took the Son of Man into his arms and praised God by saying:“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2:29-32 NIV).

Mary and Joseph marveled about what was said about their son. God’s promises were prophesied for generations and finally, just eight days after the announcement to the shepherds when the angels declared, “Do not be afraid.  I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11), this gentle man of God saw the face of the Savior.

As a child of God myself, I too am looking forward to the day when I will look into the Savior’s face and declare my story, which is “saved by grace.” Jesus, the Son of God, born to set me free, one day will call me into his presence where I will praise him face to face.