Do you choose a yearly focus word? I’ve started the practice in the past few years, and have found it to be a simple and enjoyable activity if nothing else. At the end of 2020, I felt like I was sleeping through life. Not literally, of course–I have three kids six and under–but, a combination of the troublesome times and my current season of life brought feelings of always missing out: on opportunities to connect with my kids, on chances to build and grow friendships, on times to rest. And more than that, I was asleep to my own needs and to my faith.

As I thought about a word, I kept being drawn back to the parable of the ten virgins in the Bible. If you aren’t familiar with this story from Matthew 25, Jesus tells of ten women who were waiting for the bridegroom of a wedding, although they did not know how long they would need to wait for him to appear. Half were prepared, and half were not. 

At this point in my life, I felt like the unprepared virgins: caught up in people-pleasing and in doing what I thought I should be doing. I was muddling through life, clinging to my own schedule, and planning to one day get it together. I needed to awaken to small moments, unafraid to drop everything in order to spend the time given to me well. So, I chose Awake.

For a few months, everything went well.

But, making something the word of the year doesn’t guarantee it will happen. As the year wore on I stopped reflecting, stopped looking, stopped trying. I found excuse after excuse: I’m pregnant, I have a toddler going through a sleep regression, it’s been a hard year, my children wear me out, I can’t sleep, I don’t have the energy to exercise or to eat right, to remember what makes me feel alive. I wish I’d chosen Asleep so I could feel like I did it. Check the box, I conquered my word.

However, is it about conquering the word? Or using it as a tool?

Now it is December and the end of 2021 is creeping closer with each passing day. A time bomb in my head keeps whispering, “Only a few more weeks to pull it together.”

As I write this, I’m watching A Charlie Brown Christmas with my daughter for the fourth or fifth time this week (or as she refers to it, “Shnoopy movie”) and attempting to reflect on the year and perhaps recover my lost word. This time, another Bible story is brought to mind: the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him to a quiet place, told them to stay awake and pray, and then left them for his own prayers. But, you know what? They didn’t. Twice, Jesus came back to check on them and found them asleep. I used to blame the apostles for this – how could they not know? What terrible friends! Isn’t staying awake a pretty basic task??  However, as I have grown older, my years have brought empathy and compassion for the exhausted friends in the garden.

I promised God I would stay awake this year, I would pray each morning and evening, I would not ignore his requests for my presence with his people. Instead, looking at the year, I realize he is going to find me sleeping in the garden on a rock right next to Peter.

For the apostles, physically following Jesus was exhausting. No home base, always working, learning, and trusting. For me, motherhood of littles in a pandemic is exhausting. Sleepless nights, early mornings, the constant demand for attention and needs to be met. Peter, James, John, Molly Poppe, we all lost sight of the eternal rest promised and gave into the shallow, earthly rest of the moment.

Jesus finds us sleeping, and yes, it makes him sad – that fact is unavoidable – but he keeps on praying. FOR us.

Almost immediately after finding the disciples sleeping, Jesus went to the cross: the spotless lamb, untarnished by sin, exhausted by the weight of the world, he stayed awake until his work was finished. Until his death covered ours. And now, sitting on the right hand of God, earnestly, out of deep love, he prays for his sleeping disciples.

And here is the truth I missed earlier. I chose a word so I could do better and be better. Instead, I am reminded that my weak striving will only result in failure if I’m not rooted in THE Word. Staying awake without him is impossible.

So, here’s to 2022. I have not chosen a new word yet, but my prayer is whatever I choose, I might be found in him.

by Emily Schatz

Christmas is a couple days away. At this point in the year, I start reflecting on the past 12 months and think back on events that have happened, favorite memories of the year, and ways that God has been working throughout all those things. We’ve had so much happen in one year. A move across country, living with my parents, starting a new job, buying a house, and many smaller moments throughout. When we moved, I told my husband that it would be amazing to be in our first home by Christmas, and by God’s grace we are now in our own house celebrating our first Christmas as St. Louis residents.

Advent and Christmas are my favorite times of the year. I have wonderful memories of Christmas as a child that I pray our girls get to experience too so they remember the goodness of the Christmas season. When I think back, some of my favorite memories are going to Christmas Eve Worship together as a family, the smell of bacon and eggs walking into grandma’s house on Christmas morning. Remembering the chaos of running around and playing with my cousins brings a smile to my face. All the food. Y’all the Jung family can make some good food. 

When we first had kids, I had all these dreams and expectations of what Christmas would be like as a young family. Now, add in the social media comparison and my reality is not like what we see online. I had dreams of smiling children in front of the Christmas tree, making cookies in Christmas jammies, a family newsletter with our Christmas card, and having a perfectly decorated house. I envisioned us going for walks to look at Christmas lights and doing Christmas devotional readings as a family.

Maybe some families have this, but our reality has been a bit different. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year has been a time full of ear infections, fevers, colds, sleepless nights, and doctor visits. Truthfully this momma has been overwhelmed with expectations put on by myself, but also, I’ve been filled with anxious thoughts worrying about a million things on my to do list.

Add in the darkness setting in earlier, gifts to buy, work to get done… and you’ve got a recipe for one weary mom. 

Then last week, I walked into the sanctuary of our church before midweek service to take a moment before the night events started taking place. The cross was lit, the trees were up on the altar area, and there, on the middle of the altar, lay a manger. A gentle reminder that this season isn’t about my expectations of what Christmas is supposed to look like, but about a baby that was born in Bethlehem. That baby is the Prince of Peace, Emmanuel, Christ the Lord. The one who would grow up to perform miracles, healings, and teach the people about the kingdom of God. The one who lived a perfect life, died on a cross for sin he didn’t do, and defeated death three days later. The God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Our God who is living and active.

As I gazed at the cross I felt this calm, peaceful stillness settle into my bones. Jesus doesn’t have expectations of what my family Christmas season looks like, you know why? Because it doesn’t matter if we make all the cookies, watch all the movies, send out the cards, or have a decorated house. What matters is the posture of our hearts. 

The words from the first verse of Savior Of The Nations Come rung in my heart that night.

Marvel now, O heav’n and earth that the Lord chose such a birth.

Wow! The literal Almighty God, creator, author of life, lover of my soul chose to come to earth in this way in the birth of the son, Jesus. 

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;

On those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.

For to us a child is born,

To us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders.

And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. 

He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever”

(Isaiah 9:1-2; 6-7)

The world right now is literally dark in terms of the night being longer and then there is the news that seems to constantly be reporting things that are heartbreaking, but the darkness does not overcome the light. 

Just look outside at all the Christmas lights. Even in the darkest night, the darkness can’t overpower the light. It only makes the light shine brighter. Jesus is the light of the world. He came as a baby that night in Bethlehem. Even on Good Friday, when people thought the darkness won with death, Jesus overcame death and the grave that Easter morning!

Rejoice weary world! 

Our savior has come, and he is coming back again for the final victory!

None of the things we enjoy at Christmas time are bad. I’m not saying to throw out all your cookies or to skip family pictures this year. What I’m saying is don’t put your expectations of peace coming from those things. Don’t put an expectation that those things are your light of the season. No. Only Jesus can be that light. Rejoice as you see the lights of the season and know that those remind you there is no darkness too dark for Jesus to help you through. When you make those cookies or take those photos, thank God for the people He has surrounded you with. When you send those cards, send the message of the joy of the birth of our Lord. 

The joy of the Lord is my strength. 

We haven’t sent out Christmas cards or written a newsletter, but I love getting cards with updates from families in the mail. We have toddlers who love to pull ornaments off the tree, so our house is a bit of a mess with Christmas decorations everywhere. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Our children’s simple joy of reading the Christmas story together is enough for me this year. When we take pictures on Christmas morning, we might get one with everyone smiling, we might not.

I know one thing though; we will be focused on the light of the day, Christ the king is born.

Hallelujah! Rejoice!

Merry Christmas, friends. God’s peace be with you as you celebrate the light of the world.  

Today we welcome Guest writer Brooke Lange. Brooke is a sophomore at Concordia University Nebraska majoring in Psychology and Social Science. She is one of the best question askers I know and always challenges me to think out side of the box. My life is better because she is in it.

A few weeks ago, as people were preparing (in several senses of the word) to embark on Thanksgiving break, there was a lot of talk of “here.”  

I hate it here. 

Here lies my motivation to do schoolwork. 

*I don’t want to be here anymore.  

We haven’t been very fond of “here” lately. 

I (and maybe you too) have a tendency to think that the goodness I want in life is just outside of the bounds of Here, that if I just moved There or was There in my relationship with that person or if I got  a job There, then There will become my Here and finally, I would be at peace.  

 When we believe that we are prone to the circumstances of Here, that we are mercilessly thrown from one place that is not quite where we want to be to another that is not quite where we want to be, life can feel helpless – joyless even.  

David Foster Wallace addressed this circumstance in his commencement speech given at Kenyon College, This is Water. 

“It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same thing that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down.” 

I’ve seen that fire before. It’s the feeling that comes in sparks, usually during Events Engineered to Ponder Life, otherwise known as weddings, funerals, graduations, confirmations, and bar mitzvahs. The ones that make me think about all the people who have gotten me Here and how far people have traveled to come Here. This Here, if approached correctly, invokes a great sense of comfort and joy that is almost overwhelming. The connectedness of my life to what the people in my life have done on the behalf of my well-being in Here, makes the physical Here, no matter where it happens to be, seem sacred.  

Unfortunately, life is not all Events Engineered to Ponder Life – often it is not that. But we can take our own physical Here and mental Here and recognize the work and the changes and the sacrifices people had to make only for us to be Here, in both senses of the word. 

Here is fleeting. We may frequently return to the same places, but who we are changes constantly. Find what makes your Here good and beautiful and sacred. Hold on tightly to it and use it to make Here a good one. It’s all we can do.  

*Overheard while walking through that nasty Nebraska wind. It’s not that deep.