This isn’t how it was supposed to be. One could hardly blame Mary if this thought welled up as she contemplated her life as a new mother. This couldn’t have been how she had hoped to welcome her firstborn. How often in her life as a mother to God’s Son would she be forced to adjust her expectations and come to grips with a very different reality?

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Such a thought has likely pervaded your heart and mind when visions of a perfect Christmas have failed to materialize. Family strife, illness, a meager bank account, or an empty spot around the table darkens what was “supposed” to be a bright and joy-filled holiday.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Who more than Jesus himself would have reason to make such an assertion? He left behind his rightful place of perfect glory to make the unfathomable descent into human existence. But knowing this was God’s supposed-to-be plan of salvation, Jesus sacrificed all without hesitation to carry out his Father’s will and save mankind.

“Set[ting our] minds . . . on earthly things” as we plan our ideal Christmas celebration will almost certainly leave us feeling hollow and disappointed. The Christmas message, however, transforms our perspective. As we “set [our] minds on things above,” we recognize that our joy and fulfillment are not dependent on the changeable circumstances of the day.

This perspective directs our gaze past any earthly disillusionments to focus instead on the rag-swaddled miracle in the manger. With Mary, we stare in awe at her newborn, praising God that all the preparations for a perfect Christmas were taken care of long ago.

I am a mother of five. One of my children suffers from severe depression. The winter can be especially long and bleak. Seasonal affective disorder plays a part in his story as well. Because of these challenges and others, he has strayed from God’s house. He has not been to church in a long time. This hurts. All too often I feel like I failed him. I play the if-only game and wonder if I had only done or said things differently, perhaps he would be in a better place.

I know better. My Savior, Jesus, washed every sin away at the cross. Mine and yours.

So we wait on the Lord. We pound God’s door on that child’s behalf. We never give up on him. I trust the Lord when he speaks to us in Matthew and know God himself is fighting for my child’s soul.

Waiting as a child during the season of Advent was awful! When would it finally be Christmas Eve? When would Jesus come?

I thank the Lord that he put me in the family he did. I loved the Wednesday services during Advent. The messages always seemed to teach us something we hadn’t thought of.

Our German Lutheran grandma’s house seemed to be in the middle of everything. Everyone was welcome any time. We were always uncovering ancient ornaments, cookie recipes, and Advent devotions.

Friends, always welcome, would ask about that funny thing in the middle of the dining room table. Why were some candles shorter than others, and only one new one lit each week?

Ah . . . the waiting, and the light growing brighter each week! The bright lights reflecting off of our favorite ornaments, the bright lights all around our neighborhoods growing so bright you could read a newspaper walking down the street at night! The candles of the Advent wreath growing so bright as they reflected off of our family manger scene waiting for a very special arrival.

Yes, I thank God for allowing me to learn and to share the Light of the world!

Who are the lost, and who are the found? Jesus urged the Pharisees to look inward. They found it unfathomable to think he may be referring to them. They were right there, and besides, from their perspective they weren’t capable of having a wandering heart.

As we look inward, we know how easy it is to be distracted by shiny sins freshly polished and held in our hearts. They are a stark contrast to the rugged staff God uses to reign us in. He wants us to be content and confident in his pasture.

Oh, how we need compassion for those on either side of the fence! Our Shepherd happily sought us out in crevices and deep valleys. He called with strained voice, while we rolled in sinful pastures. It is easy to stray and hard to admit fault. But it’s so much easier to fall into our Savior’s arms and tell others of the joy to be found when hearing, “You’re forgiven” every time.

Dear God, I know what you’re saying here, but it’s so hard. I feel like I’ve taken the high road and gone over and above. I’ve tried to “love deeply” by looking past the hurtful words and actions. I’ve extended beyond what I thought I could give and let “a multitude” of sins go.

But this relationship still isn’t working. It’s just hard. And awkward. And messy.

So come, Lord Jesus, into our relationship!

Because when you’re in the middle, I don’t see two sides. I just see you.

And you show me that love isn’t a “feeling.” It’s an action. And your action was sacrifice. And the sacrifice was hard for you too.

You walked the “high road,” going above and beyond to give your perfection to me.

You didn’t just look past my hurtful thoughts, words, and actions—you claimed them as your own.

And it cost everything to cover the multitude of my sins.

With you in the middle, my heavenly Father doesn’t see two sides. He just sees what you’ve done for me.

So I pray, “Come, Lord Jesus, into this relationship!” Make it possible for us to love each other deeply.

I dread the coming of winter a little more each year when the cold, snow, ice, shortened hours of daylight, and lengthened hours of dark loom. Now that I am in the winter of my life, I wonder how many dark days of challenges and isolation await me.

My mother, at 98, often asks, “Why am I still here?” Her body will not allow her to do all she used to do. She doesn’t see a purpose to her life. Even still, she continues to witness to her family the importance of regular worship and daily prayer.

My body often reminds me of my advanced age. God, who made me, promised to be with me, even carry me when my body is weak. He will sustain me, keeping me in the true saving faith that cannot be lost or taken from me.

Jesus came to rescue sinners. From his birth to his final “It is finished!” cry, his focus remained on his Father’s mission. I must also keep my eyes focused on Jesus, who is waiting with open arms to welcome me home. Until then, my purpose is to share that message of salvation with my children, grandchildren, and others.

On Christmas Eve 1914, soldiers in the trenches of the Western Front huddled on opposing sides. That is until someone decided to sing a carol. Others on the German side joined in, and soon the Brits across the field were adding their voices. Finally, a voice called out, “Come over here!” Another voice called back, “Meet me halfway!”

Nervously a man from the German side met a man from the British ranks. Instead of exchanging bullets, they shook hands. Soon men from both sides were meeting in the middle, laughing, and wishing one another a Merry Christmas.

Christmas seems like as good a time as any to meet our enemies in the middle. No doubt there have been differences of opinion. Ill-timed and cringeworthy words have been uttered. Feelings have been hurt.

And yet, if one man singing a carol could convert a battlefield to a social setting, surely one text, one card, one sentence or kind thought could be an impetus that just might result in a cease-fire.

Maybe your goodwill will fall flat. Maybe it will be thrown back in your face. Even so, send it with a prayer that God replaces hate with love. It may not cause immediate change, but it might start to turn the tide.

We stumble as we lose our balance. It can hurt and leave us embarrassed by our clumsiness.

Jesus used strong language to tell the disciples about the dire consequences of causing a child to stumble. He’s not talking about tripping or pushing; he’s talking about causing spiritual stumbling.

As Christmas approaches there is much to sidetrack our children (and ourselves): pretty lights, wishing for or shopping for presents, movies, and parties. Vigilant parents are challenged to keep the focus on Jesus, his birth, and his eventual return.

We can help stumble-proof our children by having (or starting) traditions and quiet time with family: devotions that focus on Christ and God’s Word, a Bible-reading plan in an Advent calendar, or reading Old Testament prophecies using a Jesse Tree. Sing carols or read some of the messianic psalms.

When my family decided to focus more on the Bible side of Christmas, it took several years for our children to “get used to” the new traditions. But once they did, we saw their spiritual muscles pump up.

There are many obstacles in our path to trip up our children. Avoid stumbling by keeping eyes on the Savior!

My mother’s Savior first came to her when she lay cuddled in her mother’s arms—baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The pastor spoke as he poured the water from the baptismal font over her infant head. He traced the sign of the cross over her head and heart. “Come, Lord Jesus,” and Jesus came in the water and the Word to create new life within her and make her his own dear, redeemed child.

My mother’s Savior came many more times throughout her life of 92 years. There were times of trial and sorrow when he came and strengthened and helped her; times when fear and dismay became overwhelming. “Come, Lord Jesus,” and Jesus came in Word and sacrament to forgive, sustain, and comfort.

A week after Christmas, after an Advent season peppered with prayers of “Come, Lord Jesus,” Mom entered hospice care upon her return from the hospital to the nursing home. We prayed and celebrated the Christ Child’s coming on that first Christmas with eager expectation of Christ’s return to earth on the Last Day. Through tears and much prayer, we prayed he would come and take Mom home to heaven. And Jesus came to rescue and release. Advent prayers were answered.
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Admittedly, I do not watch or keep track of the weather. The rain will come whether I am prepared for it or not. Likewise, life’s precipitations pass through. Temptations blow in, emotions crash like a hurricane, an ice storm freezes my soul. At times, sin leaves me stranded in a tornado that overwhelms me with shame.

Where does my Savior fit in? He was tempted but never caved. Jesus endured and overcame temptation. He guides us to the Word for the tools to endure. When we aren’t strong enough, he assures us the Spirit is with us and is working on our behalf to strengthen and sustain us.

Jesus understands the frustration of doing the right thing and still experiencing earthly consequences. And though he never fell, he meets us in our shame, not to condemn, but to console us because he paid our debt. The hurt our sin causes is exactly what he carried on the cross, knowing it was too much for us.