Hosea

The last couple of days I've been reading Hosea, which I've never really done before beyond looking up a Scripture here or there. I have to tell you that I've been struck with how God just pours His heart out to us.

I've been told before that Hosea is a picture of Christ because of the way he went to bring his unfaithful wife back home.   Chapter 3 is only five verses long, but I think it is one of the most passionate and heartfelt passages in the whole Bible.

Then the LORD said to me, "Go and love your wife again, even though she commits adultery with another lover.  This will illustrate that the LORD still loves Israel, even though the people have turned to other gods and love to worship them."  So I bought her back for fifteen pieces of silver and five bushels of barley and a measure of wine.  Then I said to her, "You must live in my house for many days and stop your prostitution. During this time, you will not have sexual relations with anyone, not even with me."  This shows that Israel will go a long time without a king or prince, and without sacrifices, sacred pillars, priests, or even idols!  But afterward the people will return and devote themselves to the LORD their God and to David's descendant, their king.  In the last days, they will tremble in awe of the LORD and of his goodness.

He bought her back.  She was so precious to him that it didn't matter where she had been or what she had been doing, he would do anything to get her back.  He loved her that much.  Just as Christ loved us.

Another passage that struck me was in chapter 6:4-7:

"O Israel and Judah, what should I do with you?" asks the LORD. "For your love vanishes like the morning mist and disappears like dew in the sunlight.  I sent my prophets to cut you to pieces— to slaughter you with my words, with judgments as inescapable as light.  I want you to show love, not offer sacrifices. I want you to know me more than I want burnt offerings.  But like Adam, you broke my covenant and betrayed my trust."

God craves relationship with us, much more than anything we can do to make ourselves right before Him.  This is the why of His grace and mercy.

Below I have a link to a song by Andrew Peterson that kind of prompted me to read Hosea.  I think it's a beautiful song.  Have a listen:

"Hosea" by Andrew Peterson on his album The Resurrection Letters, Vol. 2

Preparation

Last year I had already gone through so many changes in my life, given up some things, and surrendered even more, that I didn't feel that I was in a place to celebrate the Season of Lent.

This year I found myself being drawn to the thought of spending time with God...intentionally.  By this, I mean beyond my regular devotion time.  There's some stuff I've got to get through, and it's something that only God can break through.  So I'm doing it.

For me, I won't actually be taking anything out of my life - no sugar fast, or caffeine fast, or television, or books, or Facebook, or anything like that.  I will be adding to my life.  In the natural course of it, there will be some things I will have to let go of for a time to make room for what I am adding, but that's ok.  It will help me keep my focus.

Christ was in the desert for 40 days, without eating or drinking - simply praying and preparing.  This is my desert time, and this is part of my preparation.

Beloved

Remind Me Who I Am - Jason Gray

When I lose my way,
And I forget my name,
Remind me who I am.
In the mirror all I see,
Is who I don't wanna be,
Remind me who I am.
In the loneliest places,
When I can't remember what grace is.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You,
That I belong to You.
To You.

When my heart is like a stone,
And I'm running far from home,
Remind me who I am.
When I can't receive Your love,
Afraid I'll never be enough,
Remind me who I am.
If I'm Your beloved,
Can You help me believe it.

Tell me once again who I am to You,
Who I am to You, whoa.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You.
That I belong to You.
To You.

I'm the one you love,
I'm the one you love,
That will be enough,
I'm the one you love.

Tell me once again who I am to You.
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You,
That I belong to You, oh.

Tell me once again who I am to You.
Who I am to You.
Tell me lest I forget who I am to You,
That I belong to You.
To You.

Admission

I went to the Well again yesterday and heard the man preach about prayer again.  It was better the second time around.  He said something this time that I didn't catch last time: prayer is the admission to God that you can't handle it on your own.  Wow.  That's the first time I've heard soemthing like that and it makes complete sense to me.

It makes sense because I've had a hard time praying all my life and now I know it's because I didn't want to admit that I couldn't do it on my own.  I wnated to be the one to do it all.  I wanted to do God's job, and that is pride.  That puts me in the same position as Lucifer before he fell.  That's a frightening thought and if it weren't for God's incredible love and grace, that would be my fate.

So now I'm all about prayer.  I can't do it on my own.  I need God to get through every day, one day at a time.  He's got to the the one to do it.  Even something so simple as asking Him to wake me up so I can spend time with Him to how He provides for our needs here and then some - He's got it covered and I need to rely on Him.

Sweet Aroma

So this weekend has been a good one for learning about worship (acts of…) and sacraments, but the biggie for me was on Saturday night at The Well Church when a man spoke on prayer.

He said that prayer was very important and he broke it down into four things, two of which stood out to me.  The first is that prayers are stored up in bowls as incense to God and are a sweet aroma to Him.  Wow.  I love that picture and it puts a new perspective on prayer for ne.  A positive one that makes me want to pray.  I have a very hard time praying I’ve had moments where I’ve felt the connection to God as I pray but for the most part, though I believe that He hears me, I feel like I’m talking to myself.  This tells me that I’ve not just talking to myself, but it’s a sweet aroma to Him.

The second thing that he said was that a house that doesn’t pray is not a church.  Basically, what I got from that was that prayer draws people together and to God.  This man had story after story about how prayer, just prayer, brought people to God, even those who didn’t believe.  And he also had stories of churches that fell apart because their members refused to pray together.

At the end of his message, he challenged was all to set aside a time to pray, and he wasn’t talking about a five-minute prayer before we go to sleep. But he said to start with a purposeful half an hour.  While that thought intimidates me, at the same time I’m encouraged because I’ve been wanting to develop my prayer life.  God is telling me that He’s making a ways for me to do that.


 

Desert

Today is the first day of Lent.  It’s a Wednesday, the day we have worship here in the morning.  Travis read a devotional that talked about Christ and His time in the desert.   I don’t remember if he read this or if it’s something that occurred to me, but either way it struck me that Christ went through the desert before He fulfilled God’s purpose for His life.  God was preparing Him.

There are several people who went through their “desert” times, sometimes literally – Moses and Joshua immediately come to mind.  And, on a side not, there is something about the number 40, but I don’t know what it is.  Moses spent 40 years as a pampered prince, the next 40 years in a literal desert before God called him.  Joshua spent 40 years wandering the desert with the children of Israel before leading them into the Promised Land.

The point is that they all went through this harsh time before beginning the ministry of God, and God was with them the entire time, though there were times when He was quiet.

This is my desert time.  God has a purpose for me, but right now is the time for preparation.

Belief

Our chaplain has asked all of us in her life group to journal. Well, it’s not a request, actually, she’s made it a requirement. The two questions are:

1) What new thing have I learned about God this week?
2) What new thing have I learned about myself?

Well.

The easy one is what new thing have I learned about God. Travis Vice, the pastor of a church plant I've become involved in called Roots Community Church (which is very involved as a community with The Program here), preached an interesting message this last Sunday. The text was Mark 6, and he was talking about a) how Christ was rejected by His own family, and b) how a person’s faith directly relates to the power of God in his or her life. The “a” part is at the very beginning of Mark 6, and it talks in verse 3 about how they scoffed and refused to believe in Him because He was “just a carpenter, the son of Mary.” They probably also remembered the questionable circumstances of His birth – Jews have long memories. It continues in v. 4 where Jesus replies by saying, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in His own hometown, and among His relatives and family.” (NLT). Here’s what gets me, though: verse 5, “And because of their unbelief, He couldn’t do any miracles among them except to place His hands on a few sick people and heal them. 6 And He was amazed at their unbelief.” (NLT). He couldn’t perform any miracles because they didn’t believe! Their unbelief made Him powerless.

So what does that say about me? For years I struggled with believing that God was there for me. I didn’t see Him moving in my life. Well, duh! It’s because I didn’t believe.
“Believe” is an action word. Having faith is an action. It’s as simple as doing. There’s a saying that God helps those who help themselves. While I have a problem with how that can lead us to a works-oriented religion, it is still true that in a sense. We can help ourselves by simply believing.

Dross

"⁸Look, I go forward, but He is not there. And backward, but I cannot perceive Him; ⁹when He works on the left hand, I cannot behold Him; when He turns to the right hand, I cannot see Him. ¹⁰But He knows the way that I take; when He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold." Job 23:8-10 (NKJV)

I've written a little about my bout with depression before, and in that post I mentioned how Job knew that no matter what, God was still there. Recently, I've fallen into a depressive state again (though I wouldn't say that I am depressed), and I've been struggling with it. I mean, there are a lot of good things happening in my life, but there are things that I've worried about, too.

Yesterday was the third day of my latest migraine. I didn't start getting migraines until a few years ago, and they started to get really bad and more frequent earlier this year. I would say that part of the reason is due to stress from dealing with my break-up with JM and going back to school full time. Yesterday was also Sunday, so in spite of the pounding in my head, I went to church. I managed to get through worship, but by the time break time came so the pastor could get set up, I was in sorry shape. As I sat in the fellowship hall debating whether or not I should go in to try to listen to the sermon, I got the rather strong urge to find someone to pray for my head right then and there. I found two ladies who had yet to go in to the sanctuary and they were more than willing to pray for me. I sat in a chair while they prayed over me, and then one started to rub my neck and shoulders. She asked me if there were a lot of tension spots. I laughed and said, "Probably." She then said that there were things I needed to let go, so while she ministered to my neck, I bent my head and in a jumble of words poured out some of my immediate concerns to God. When she finished, and though I wasn't anywhere near to be finished, my migraine was almost gone. Not completely, but almost. It stayed that way for the rest of the time I was at church.

What she said got me thinking more about things that I need to let go. See, I have a hard time letting go of things. I tend to try to rely on myself more than on God. I get worried about things very easily and then I try to figure out how to resolve these worries. Recently, it's been about finances – getting things together for school, finding a place to live, paying my phone bill, etc. Unfortunately, I also have the bad habit of procrastinating. So many times things are left to the last minute, which only adds to the stress. I realized a long time ago that it was this combination, among a few other things, that was a catalyst to my prior depression. However, I chose to blame God for everything. When I read this passage in Job the first time, I was amazed how the first two verses encompassed exactly how I felt. But then I got to verse 10: "But He knows the way that I take; when He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold." God wanted me to read that verse that day. In it, He was telling me, "I know how you felt that I wasn't there, but I was. I still am. I know everything that has gone on with you, and I know what is yet to happen. I allow you to go through things like this because it refines you. Gold has to go through the refining process to gain its purity. So it is with you. This will not be the last time you will go through hardship, but know that there is purpose in everything I do." As far as encouragement goes, it's not a "feel-good" kind of thing, but to me something clicked.

It's so hard to keep that in mind, though, and when that kind lady told me I needed to let go of things, it was nothing but a gentle reminder from God. There are other things I need to let go, as well. It's the dross of my life. As each impurity rises to the surface, God removes it. I just need to stop being so stubborn.

Silence

When I read this post by Pete Peterson at The Rabbit Room, it brought some memories regarding Easter to mind.

When I was younger, we attended a certain Episcopal church in East Tennessee, and that is the only church I remember where we followed the traditions of Holy Week. Even as a young girl, I remember the solemnity during specific services, especially Good Friday. I remember my mother instructing me about what happened during this particular service, and how at the end we had to leave the church in silence. It was the silence that had the impact on me. I remember hearing the people shuffling about in the almost-completely dark sanctuary (due to candles, except one, being extinguished during the service), the sound of their clothes rubbing, coughing, the sound of them picking up their belongings. We walked in somewhat of a line out of the sanctuary into the fellowship hall. I didn't understand it then, and when we reached the fellowship hall it felt like something lifted and I could be my usual self. As I thought about it in later years, I realize the significance of the darkness and the silence. When Christ died, even God, His Father, went into mourning.

Today, we celebrate His Resurrection. It is a true celebration because of the reason why He died and why He rose again – for us. So that we may have life in Him. Life everlasting. I can't think of a better reason to celebrate, can you?

Boundless – Pure Again

Facebook is a great tool. I have found quite a few things worth my attention through FB, and this is one of them:
Pure Again

I "happened" upon the Boundless website tonight (I put quotes around "happened" because I don't think it was by accident) and read article after article that were very good, but this one impacted me. Honestly, I couldn't finish it without crying.
See, we are all the adulteress required to "go and sin no more," but this is the first time I truly understood that parable, that I could actually personalize it. I was in similar circumstances not too long ago. I am just as guilty as she, and especially after reading this article and the parable that goes with it, I am just as awed at His forgiveness.

In Christ Alone

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost it's grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Brought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand


This is probably one of my favorite modern hymns. I don't know who sang it originally, who wrote it, or anything like that, so if the copyright police find me - I'm guilty! If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give credit where credit is due.

The first time I heard this, we sang it in worship. I didn't know it, of course, but I liked it. This was when I had first moved back in with my parents, and I wasn't sure that I really wanted God to be that much a part of my life. Sure, I was a Christian, but I figured only the really special people got to have the relationship with Him that I could only dream of. I hated that I wasn't good at it, or that I wasn't living up to my parents' expectations of who I was supposed to be in God. I wasn't living up to my own.

See, everything seemed easy to me, or it seemed easy for everyone else. For me, it was hard. So hard that I just...gave up. No, I didn't deny God, I just refused to believe He wanted anything to do with me. I mean, why did I matter? It was just easier to get on with my life and not worry about whether or not I was going to mess up.

But I did mess up. Again and again. I fell into a depression that I didn't think I'd ever get out of. I cut myself off from everyone except for one or two people. For those people I had to associate with, like at work, I kept it short. I didn't like myself, and I didn't think anyone else should like me, because I was a horrible person. I wasn't worth knowing. The sad thing, though, was that I was desperate for companionship. So in spite of all that I did, I felt like I was the one abandoned.

The thing that struck me in this song is in the fourth verse. When we sing it in worship, everyone else gets excited about the part in the third verse that says, "Then bursting forth in glorious Day/Up from the grave He rose again." They clap and cheer, some just wave their hands in the air...you know how it is. But for
me, the part that gets to me is this in the fourth verse: "No power of hell, no scheme of man/Can ever pluck me from His hand."

Not only will He never abandon me, but He will hold on to me so tightly that nothing or no one, even me, will be able to separate me from Him. It took me a long time to realize this truth. It's taken me a long time to know it in my heart that it is truth.

It's still hard for me. Some days I just feel that there is a huge granite wall with a moat that holds crocodiles and piranhas between God and me. Some days it just feels like a picket fence. I know that barrier is me. My pride, mostly. But He's on the other side, waiting for me to step through. I can feel Him.

He's also on my side, holding my hand with His, and giving me the grace and strength the make that step. I can feel Him.

I wouldn't be able to feel Him if He had decided that I wasn't worth it.

I'm Such a Romantic

Every once in a while, I go through a period where I just don't want to be single anymore.

WARNING: Yes, I am going to talk about my love life...or lack thereof. Feel free to mosey on to someone else's blog if you don't want to read any further. I don't mind. There's probably a lot of entries far more worth reading than this one.

When I was growing up, I had this dream guy. He was tall, well-built, and had an incredible smile. It's funny, but I could never see the rest of his face. I couldn't see his eyes, or what color hair he had, or anything else - just that smile. I still have a dream man. Certain things have changed in what I see as someone I could spend my life with, however.

The thing is, I'm almost 30 years old. Yeah, it's hard for me to believe, too. It's also hard when family and well-meaning friends ask me if there's a special someone in my life - and they don't mean Christ. Certain holidays come and go, friends marry, then they have babies. Time is rushing by.

I've always been a traditionalist when it comes to guy/girl stuff. My older sister and other girls I've known have told me that it just isn't like that anymore. No one so much as blinks when a girl asks a guy out. I prefer to wait for the guy to make the first move. My sister tells me that I could wait forever if I handled it that way.

Well, I tried it. I scared him off. He's now married with kids, and I hope he's very happy.

The next time, I made it obvious I liked him without outright telling him. He figured it out real quick, but was nice enough to ignore my foolishness. When we finally did talk about it, we parted as friends who would never be anything more to each other. He's also married now. I hope he's happy, too.

I'm afraid of doing that again. I'm also afraid of just being a good friend, a "buddy", and nothing more.

My mother recently talked about a Purity conference she and my brother went to last year. The speaker pointed out that in Proverbs 31, it says that the woman did her husband good all the days of her life. That means even before she met him, she was doing him good by preparing her heart and her life to be his. That really struck me. Here I was focusing on my dream man and all the he was supposed to be for me when instead I should be focusing on myself and all that I'm supposed to be for him.

Wait for it.

Here it is.

You ready?

*smacks self on forehead* "DUH!"

I shouldn't be worried about it. God's got it covered. He's shaping me even as I write this. There's someone out there for me, but God is the one to bring us together, not me.

I still have my moments, like now. I really want someone to hold and to hold me. One day I will, but until then there's my teddy bear, Tufty.

We've been through a lot together, Tufty and I.

You Never Let Go

This is another past blog post, originally posted in May of this year. Oops, I mean last year!

"V.1-Even though I walk through the valley

Of the shadow of death

Your perfect love is casting out fear

And even when I'm caught in the middle

Of the storms of this life

I won't turn back I know You are near

PreChorus-And I will fear no evil

For my God is with me

And if my God is with me

Whom then shall I fear?

Whom then shall I fear?

Chorus-Oh no, You never let go

Through the calm and through the storm

Oh no, You never let go

In every high and every low

Oh no, You never let go

Lord, You never let go of me.

V.2-I can see a light that is coming

For the heart that holds on

A glorious light beyond all compare

And there will be an end to these troubles

But until that day comes

We'll live to know You here on the earth

Bridge-Yes, I can see a light that is coming

For the heart that holds on

And there will be an end to these troubles

But until that day comes

Still I will praise You

Still I will praise You"

~Words and Music by Matt and Beth Redman

I have been reading the book of Job this last week or so. What struck me first, and this is really just a side note, was that even when God Himself is impressed by your righteousness, it's still not enough. You still need a Redeemer.

However, what has really rung true for me is that even in the midst of Job's pain, his sorrow, his suffering-- both physical and mental (his friends didn't really help), and his discouragement, he still knew that God was there and that He would deliver Job from his torment.

Some of us can relate. Man, I know I can. For several years I went through a period that I now call The Dark Times. Seriously, if you were given a chance to compare me now to me then, you just might not see much similarity.

I was depressed, yes. There were times I was even in despair. I lost nearly everything, eventually living in a motel, trying to make ends meet from week to week. There were nights that, if it hadn't been for the kindness of friends, I would have had to sleep in my car.

It wasn't because Satan wanted to test my righteousness. No. God was refining me. And it hurt.

I blamed Him, of course, along with my parents (my mother in particular), my jobs, my living situations, my landlords, roommates...you name it, I blamed it. Except myself.

In all this time, God was working me, shaping me. I railed at Him. I'd shake my fist at Him, telling Him that since He obviously didn't care for me, then I'd forget about Him. Yet, I knew deep inside, where Truth doesn't hide, that He did love me, and that no matter what I said or did to Him, He had a tight hold and He wasn't going to let me go no matter how much I hurt Him. And, believe it or not, even in the midst of my anger at Him, it still comforted me.

When God finally revealed who He was in my life, I was at the end of my rope. Maybe I was just too tired to fight Him anymore. Maybe He had me right where He wanted me, right where I'd listen.

He used my mother, of all people. The one person I fought just as hard as I'd fought Him. This time, there was no fight. I didn't go down swinging. This time I allowed myself to really examine my life and I knew that something had to change.

Long and short: I chose God.

So much power in those three words! I chose God. You know why? Because He chose me. Little me, yet He knew, through the blood of His Son, that I was worth it. He wouldn't let me go, and I can't think of a better end than to love and serve Him for eternity.

I Gave My Life Today

I was looking through my Blogger blog at some old posts and found this one. I originally posted this on November 9, 2005, after giving blood earlier that day.

I've donated many times before, willingly and happily. I've never had any complications arise nor have I ever felt any ill effects (except once when I didn't eat beforehand and thus felt quite light-headed afterwards - my fault, not theirs), so when Mom told me she had signed me up to give blood (knowing I wouldn't mind) I was all for it.

We had a 1:30 appointment today and we arrived just in time. After going first to the bloodmobile (where they told us we had to "register" before we came there), we went into the office building and waited for about 30 minutes. Mom got to go, and I sat in a room full of people I didn't know. Not a good situation for me, but fortunately I had a book to escape to.

Finally, after another 15 minutes (or more), I was called to the "bus." Wouldn't you know it? I had to wait some more. Not so long this time, only about 5 minutes. Then I had to in for their little interview they do. Not a big deal, normally. Well, today my blood didn't drop. What I mean is, when the man took a blood sample from my pricked finger (yeee-owch! I can handle the big needle with no problem, but not the little ones for some reason), he put it in a special liquid. If the blood drops to the bottom of the liquid, then there is enough iron in the blood. As I said, my blood didn't drop. It just hung out there at the top. I sat there thinking that I wouldn't be able to give blood because I didn't have enough iron!

He decided to spin the blood and based on that we would continue. Apparently, you need a 32 count of something to be safe, and after he spun my blood, I had a 43. So I was safe there. Don't ask me what the numbers mean.

So next came the questions. Before, I've always done them on my own, then the interviewer would either go over them with me or just check to make sure that I had answered them all. They've cut out the first step. Now, they just ask them. I told the guy straight off the bat that the answers to all the sex questions were "no." He said okay, but he still had to ask them. I guess he's required by law or something. Whatever. The answers were still "no."

We finished and I went out to the main area where the lady (we'll call her a nurse for lack of a better term) awaited me. After all the preliminary stuff, she began to prep my arm. She had no problem finding my vein (I have good veins) to mark it. She then went to help another person who was finishing his pint. She came back to me and when she was ready, she stuck the needle in my arm - and missed my vein. She missed! Come on, people! I have good veins. No one has ever missed my vein. I shudder to think of it even now.

Anyway, she half pulled the needle out, re-found my vein, and pushed the needle in. The sensation I felt was something I had never felt before and never want to again. It wasn't painful so much as it felt like an invasion. It rippled through my entire body and back to the entry point in less than a second, but it felt longer. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. The nurse noticed and apologized profusely. I could tell she really felt bad, so I didn't have the heart to make a big deal about it.

The whole pint took 5 minutes. The clock was right in front of me, so that's how I know. All of that waiting and hassle for 5 minutes.

So now you ask me, why do I do this? Well, in Leviticus, it says that "the life of the flesh is in the blood." (Lev. 17:11). In John, Christ said, "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friend." (John 15:13). So it's a bit literal when you look at it this way, but I do believe it's Biblical. After all, Christ also said, "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you." (John 15:12). Christ gave His blood for us that we might live. Knowing that, how can I not donate my little pint every 56 days if it might mean saving someone's life?

(All Scripture references from the New King James Version.)

Each of Us has been Given a Gift

This past week I have watched a lot of movies. In our family, we have a general policy to not watch movies except on the weekend, but these past two weeks we've been lax. Of course, it doesn't help that NetFlix has such a quick turnaround. Or that my not-so-little-anymore brother, who is home for Christmas, has chosen the next 20 or so movies to come. Or that there are movies in the theater that we really want to see - like Eragon.

But all these movies go by the wayside if they have no purpose than to entertain. There seems to be a trend lately for movies to tell more than a story that makes you laugh, cry, or sigh - docudramas, if you will. They want to tell you what happened in an historical sense, whether from personal accounts or known historical facts. Take Bobby, for instance. I haven't seen this one, but I saw an article in The Oregonian that the filmmakers for Bobby have taken their actors and have spliced them into actual footage from when Bobby Kennedy made his speech.

I like these kinds of movies, mostly because they bring history to life in a way. I've always loved history. I remember standing in the fort at Fort Larned in Kansas and placing my hand over a signature that a soldier had carved in the sandstone building back in 1863. I still get chills over that. When I was in college, I actually debated whether or not I should major in history. I didn't, but that doesn't matter right now.

I especially like films that have certain spiritual undertones to them. A few years ago, there was a film that took the world by storm. You've probably seen it - The Passion of the Christ. This movie focused on one event in the life of Christ - His death. This year we have another film that does the same thing. The Nativity Story is the story of His birth. My family and I went to see it this last Saturday, and I was very moved by it.

There was one scene that struck me in particular, one that really made me think and made me ask myself several questions. Mary and Joseph were invited by a lone shepherd to take a rest from their journey to Bethlehem. Mary's pregnancy was quite obvious by now, and the shepherd told her that she bore a gift. He had no idea of the significance of his comment, but continued by saying that his father had told that each person had been given a gift. When asked what his was, at first, he said nothing, and then he said that his gift was hope. Hope of that which is to come.

I recognize that this scene is a fictional account because we don't have anything to tell us who Mary and Joseph saw on the road or where they stopped or anything like that. But I still feel the power of that statement. When this same shepherd came to see the newborn Christ, Mary looked at him and said, "Each one of us has been given a gift."

Each one of us has been given a gift. God gave a village girl the gift of life. He gave a man in Portland, Oregon, the gift of telling her story. Somewhere, God has given someone the gift of using her story to bring another to Christ. What gift has He given you?

A Letter

Dear __________,

You don't know me, but I have something very important to say. You are reading this letter because I cannot tell you myself. Either I am dead or seriously injured to the point of incapability, but this is too important for me to leave to someone else.

I'm laying here on the ground looking up at the sky. Have you ever really looked up at the sky? Even when there is no sun to speak of, the brightness can still take your breath away. Today, it is sunny with a few clouds. Today, something bad has happened, yet I am not afraid. Today is the day I might see my Savior face-to-face.

My friends and I had decided to go camping in the hills this weekend. We packed up what we needed and piled into a friend's jeep. Unfortunately, there are no seatbelts, but we are young and invincible. So we thought. It happened so fast. We were driving along a remote road in the hills, looking for the best spot. Ted (the driver) wasn't speeding, but he wasn't being careful either. Suddenly, a doe walked into the road right in front of us. It's funny how I remember that it was a doe and not a buck. Thank God for small favors.

Ted tried to swerve but it was too late. We hit her full on and then there was nothing. I have no idea how long I've been out. My whole body hurts. I know I've broken some bones, possibly my back and my stomach hurts too much to just be indigestion. However, this letter needs to be written. I will not die until it is finished.

Have you ever heard of Jesus Christ? This is the Man that has saved the world. No? Then let me tell you about Him. He is my Lord. He is the One I serve. He saved me just as He has saved you if you would only accept Him. I have, and I have never regretted it. As I lay here, I think of the atrocities that Christ went through so that I could be here today writing this letter to you. His pain was ever so my greater than mine is.

Why was He in pain?

Because I killed Him.

What? You killed Him? How?

I crucified Him on a cross. I did it through my sin.

What sin?

The same sin that you are in bondage to.

Me? I don't have any sin! I'm a good person!

I thought so too until He showed me that no one is good. When you have a chance, get a Bible and read Romans chapter 3, verses 9-19. They say far better what I am trying to say here. In fact read the whole chapter. It explains everything. Then read the book of John. It's my favorite Gospel. It speaks of Jesus. This is the Man I serve.

I still don't understand. What has He done that was so special?

He loved me so much that He died for me. I was a sinner, but He still loved me. Imagine! All that love, just for me! And He loves you in the same way. He died for you.

Oh, I wish I could say more, but my time is short. Soon, He will come for me. I will be able to spend eternity with Him. I didn't want to spend it without Him, that's why I chose to accept His love and to serve Him. To spend eternity without Him would be…hell. I don't want you to go there. Please consider what I said.

There's a light. Oh, it's beautiful! More than words can express. And I hear singing! Angels are praising my Lord! There He is…His face shines like the light. No, He is the light! Take me home, Lord! Take me home…