When Christmas Hurts – Hope for the Lonely Heart.

(A Christmas Reflection)

Every year, the lights go up, the music turns on, and the world seems to lean hard into cheer. “Merry Christmas!” echoes from store speakers, greeting cards, and overcaffeinated morning show hosts. But for many, this season feels anything but merry.

If that’s you this year—if you’re sad, lonely, or walking through grief—this post is for you.

You’re Not Broken Because You’re Hurting

Let’s just say it plainly: being overwhelmed this time of year doesn’t make you weak—it makes you human. The world around us says you should feel magical and joyful, but your heart might feel tired, cracked, or heavy. And that’s okay.

Some of you are facing Christmas with an empty chair at the table.
Some are trying to navigate celebrations while carrying the weight of loss.
Some are quietly battling depression behind everyone else’s holiday excitement.
Some just feel alone—maybe more this season than any other.

Pain has a way of echoing louder during a season built on celebration. But you need to hear this: you’re not strange, and you’re not alone.

Even the First Christmas Had Tears

We often picture the first Christmas as serene: a silent night, peaceful animals, starlit skies. But the truth is, on the edges of that holy night, there were tears, fears, and exhaustion.

Mary and Joseph were far from home.
The city was overcrowded.
They delivered a baby in a place no one would choose.
It was messy. It was loud. It was lonely.

In other words—Christmas didn’t begin in perfection. It began in need, in uncertainty, in the dark.
And into that darkness came Jesus.

Your darkness doesn’t disqualify you from Christmas; it may actually help you understand it more deeply than most.

God Sees You in This Season

One of the most comforting truths in Scripture is this:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” (Psalm 34:18)

Christmas is not about us climbing up to God; it’s about God coming down to us.
Not to the strong, but to the struggling.
Not to the whole, but to the broken.
Not to the merry, but to the messy.

If your heart feels cracked this Christmas, God is not avoiding you—He is drawing near.

Permission to Feel What You Feel

You don’t have to fake joy.
You don’t have to “snap out of it.”
You don’t have to match the mood around you.

Your grief is real.
Your loneliness is real.
Your weariness is real.

And Jesus meets you as you are—not as the season suggests you should be.

But Here’s the Good News: Hurt Is Not the End of Your Story

There is hope. There is healing. There is comfort. And even if you can’t feel it today, it doesn’t mean God has stopped working.

Sometimes the most courageous prayer is simply:
“Lord, hold me together today.”

Sometimes the most faithful act is showing up to a new morning.
Sometimes hope grows quietly, like the slow, gentle rise of dawn.

Christmas reminds us that light comes—not all at once, but steadily, faithfully—into the darkest places.

A Few Gentle Encouragements for This Christmas

1. Let someone in.
You don’t have to share everything, but you also don’t have to carry everything alone.

2. Give yourself grace.
If all you manage is a small step today, that step matters.

3. Look for the tiny glimmers.
A song. A memory. A cup of coffee (my favorite). A kind word.
They don’t fix everything, but they remind us that God is still at work.

4. Remember: joy is not the same as happiness.
Joy is the quiet assurance that God is with you—even when your heart aches.

You Are Not Forgotten This Christmas

If this season is hard for you, please know this:
I see you. God sees you. You matter.

You are loved—extravagantly, endlessly, right now in the middle of your pain.

Christmas is not just for the cheerful; it’s for the weary, the grieving, the lonely, the ones trying their best to hold it all together.

It’s for you.

May the God who came near in Bethlehem come near to your heart today.
May He fill your darkness with His gentle light.
And may you sense—even in the smallest ways—that you are not alone.

Merry Christmas, dear friend.
Even if it’s a quiet one.
Even if it’s a hard one.
Even if it looks different this year.

The light is still coming. And so is hope.
-Grace & Peace
Pastor Scott.

December 12, 2025 0

Advent Reflections Week 2 – When ‘Peace” Isn’t Really Peace.

“And He will be called… Prince of Peace.”
We read those words from Isaiah 9 every Advent, and they land soft and comforting—like warm light on a winter night. But Isaiah didn’t write them in a peaceful moment. He wrote them into chaos, fear, war, and political collapse. And into that storm he declares: A child is coming… and His rule will bring real pea

But here’s the thing about peace: not everyone in Scripture understood what it truly meant.

So for a moment, let’s imagine a conversation—a contrast—between the Prince of Peace Isaiah saw coming… and someone who thought he already understood peace, but didn’t.

Herod: “Peace Is What I Control.”

Herod the Great had a definition of peace that looked impressive on paper: massive building projects, economic growth, order enforced by power. A kind of forced calm.
He believed peace was the absence of threats.

So when whispers came of a child born King of the Jews, his version of “peace” suddenly cracked. A baby? A star in the sky? A question from wandering scholars?
Herod’s peace was so fragile it couldn’t survive a rumor.

He clutched control.
He tightened his grip.
He did the unthinkable—because fear always twists false peace into violence.

Herod teaches us this:
Any peace built on control will eventually crumble under the weight of fear.

Jesus, the Prince of Peace: “Peace Is What I Give.”

Now picture the contrast.

No palace.
No armies.
No fear-driven decisions.
Just a manger, a mother, and angels announcing “peace on earth.”

Jesus does not maintain peace by eliminating threats—He transforms peace by entering the world’s brokenness and absorbing its chaos.

His peace is not fragile; it’s fierce.
Not passive; but restorative.
Not enforced; but embodied.

He doesn’t clutch power—He lays it down.
He doesn’t silence threats—He redeems enemies.
He doesn’t demand calm—He brings healing.

If Herod preserved peace by tightening his fist, Jesus brought peace by opening His hands.

Isaiah said, “Of the greatness of His government and of His peace there will be no end.”
Real peace is not something you hold together; it’s something God holds together.

And Here We Are, Second Week of Advent

Between Herod’s panic and Christ’s presence is a question we must face during this season:

Which version of peace do we trust?
The one built on control…
or the one born in a manger?
Which do we honestly identify with more?

You see, Advent invites us to choose again. It invites us to dig a bit deeper, and reflect on our own personality archetype and patterns we fall into when the tides begin to rise and the pressures on.

Questions for Your Heart This Week

Where am I clinging to control and calling it “peace,” rather than trusting the Prince of Peace to hold what I cannot?
Am I holding on with a ‘Herod’ like grip? How can I loosen this false understanding of peace?
What would it look like for Christ’s peace—not my preferences, not my need for certainty—to guide my reactions, relationships, and leadership this week?

May His peace—full, fierce, and everlasting—meet you on the road to Christmas.
-Pastor Scott.

December 8, 2025 2

Christmas Reflections – Week 1

In the hush of the Advent season, we prepare our hearts for the coming of the King. Yet long before the angels filled Bethlehem’s skies with glory, heaven had already broken into human lives with terrifying, life-altering announcements. Two of those encounters—one with Jacob, one with Mary—stand centuries apart, yet they reveal the same two postures we still bring to God today. Jacob met God on the banks of the Jabbok River (Genesis 32:22-32). A man (the Scriptures say “a man,” but Hosea later calls Him angel and God Himself) appeared in the night and wrestled Jacob until dawn. Jacob fought with every ounce of his cunning, strength, and self-reliance—the same traits that had stolen birthright and blessing, the same instincts that had kept him running for twenty years. Only when his hip was touched and he was left limping did Jacob finally cling instead of wrestle. “I will not let You go unless You bless me,” he gasped. Even in surrender he was bargaining, yet God honored the cry and renamed him Israel—“he struggles with God.” The limp would stay with him forever, a permanent reminder that the blessing comes only after we exhaust our own power.

Centuries later, another angel stepped out of eternity into a humble Galilean home. This time the greeting was not a challenge but a shattering promise: “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” Mary’s first reaction was trouble and fear—just like Jacob’s—but the similarity ends there. Where Jacob clenched his fists, Mary opened her hands. “How can this be?” she asked, not in defiance but in honest wonder. She did not demand signs, wrestle for control, or calculate how to make the impossible happen in her own strength. She simply placed the entire weight of the future on the word of God: “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). One encounter left a man limping into the rest of his life, forever marked by the struggle. The other left a young woman magnifying the Lord, carrying within her the Hope of the nations.

We still meet the living God in these same two ways. Some of us wrestle. We hear the call of God—to repentance, to forgiveness, to mission, to surrender—and our instinct is to grapple. We want explanations, guarantees, and control.
We bargain: “Lord, I’ll follow if You first fix this situation, heal this wound, secure this future.” We exhaust ourselves trying to bless ourselves, only to discover that every blessing from heaven comes with a limp we didn’t choose. Others hear the same voice and respond like Mary. They do not silence their questions—Mary asked “How?”—but they lay every question at the feet of the One who is faithful. They say, in essence, “I do not understand, I cannot make this happen, and I am afraid—but I belong to You. Let it be.” Faith, for them, is not the absence of fear or doubt; it is the presence of surrender. This Christmas, the Child who displaced Jacob’s strength with a touch and filled Mary’s emptiness with divine life still comes to us. The angels’ song still sounds: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace…” Peace—not to those who wrestle the Angel to the ground in their own power, but to those with whom He is pleased, those who receive rather than resist, who open rather than clench.

So the question is not whether God will break in—He already has, in a manger, on a cross, by His Spirit. The question is how we will meet Him. Will we spend another year wrestling in our own strength, walking away blessed but broken and limping? Or will we, like Mary, dare to say today, “Let it be to me according to Your word”?

Which posture will mark your Christmas—and the year to come?
Grace & Peace,
-Pastor Scott.

December 2, 2025 0

God Stepping Into Our Mess – Why This Flesh Matters.

Check out the podcast version of this pondering here.

https://spotifycreators-web.app.link/e/yFzr5lkFbSb

So, I preached on this passage yesterday, and I think there’s more to say on this topic. You see there’s this line in John’s Gospel, and it’s a profound line. I wanted to expound on it yesterday, but I just ran out of time. But this one verse is like a bright neon sign on a dark highway – it can be seen for miles. Are you ready for the verse? Brace yourself. It’s THE most important verse in all of John’s gospel, because this is how it went down. Here’s where we get our genesis. : “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” John 1:14.

It’s one of those verses we’ve heard so many times that it can feel like background noise—white noise for the soul. But let’s lean into it for a second. Let it hit you fresh. The Word—the cosmic, eternal, untouchable Logos, the blueprint behind everything that breathes and spins and sings (sometimes off key) —didn’t just stay out there, somewhere in the cosmos, the Word doesn’t hang out somewhere just watching us or hovering above us like some distant deity pulling levers. No. He became flesh. Skin and bones. Sweat and tears. He moved into our world.

Imagine that. The infinite zipped itself into the finite. The One who spoke galaxies into being traded the vastness of eternity for a heartbeat, for dusty sandals, for a stomach that growled when it was empty. And he didn’t just enter anywhere in the world, or a remote section of it —He entered into the thick of it, right here, among us. The Greek says He “tabernacled” with us, like God setting up camp in the middle of our mess. And it’s wild, right? The divine didn’t wait for us to climb some cosmic ladder to get to Him. He came down. He showed up. He knocked on the door of humanity and said, “Hey, I’m here. Let’s do this life thing together.”

But here’s the thing—here’s where it gets personal for each of us today – We have to ask the important question: what does that mean for you and me? Because it’s not just as a nice idea to nod at on Sunday and say our “amens” at just the right orchestrated time – but instead it’s a gut-punch truth that rewires how you live on a Monday? Because if the Word became flesh, then flesh matters. Your flesh. My flesh. The flesh of the person you scrolled past on your phone this morning, the one begging for a scrap of attention or a sandwich. If God wrapped Himself in skin, then skin isn’t just a disposable shell—it’s holy. It’s the stuff of eternity.

And that’s where it gets tricky, doesn’t it? Because we’re so good at splitting things apart—spirit over here, body over there. We’ve got this habit of acting like the “real” stuff is the invisible stuff, the prayers and the beliefs and the quiet times, while the physical world is just a waiting room we’re passing through. But John 1:14 says no. It’s not a waiting room. It’s the main event. God didn’t just send a memo—He became THE message. He didn’t just whisper from the clouds—He walked the dirt.

So what if you took that seriously? What if you stopped treating your body like a rental car you’re just driving till the lease is up? What if you stopped treating your neighbor like a side character in your story? Because if the Word became flesh, then every bit of flesh you bump into is a place where God might just show up. That’s the encouragement: you’re not alone. The divine is tangled up in the human. God’s not waiting for you to escape this messy, beautiful life—He’s in it with you.

But here’s the challenge: live like it. Stop pretending the sacred is only in the pews or the stained glass. It’s in the grocery store line. It’s in the argument you had with your spouse last night. It’s in the ache of your tired hands after a long day. The Word became flesh, so now you get to be the flesh the Word keeps speaking through. Are you listening? Are you showing up? Are you daring to let your ordinary, flawed, fragile life become a tent for something eternal?

Because that’s the invitation. Not to float above it all, but to dive in. To let your flesh—your actual, everyday, unglamorous flesh—become a place where grace leaks out. Where love gets loud. Where the invisible crashes into the visible and says, “This is home.”

So go ahead. Step into it. The Word is still flesh. And He’s still here.

March 31, 2025 0

it IS a wonderful life! (Poem)

Tonight,
as the lights on the Christmas tree twinkled
as the fire crackled and popped
hissing at dampened wood
as the family gathered around the sofa
bundled together in love
it IS a wonderful life!

Tonight,
as we shared the story of Jesus
as we talked, laughed and reclined
within this moment,
within each other’s presence
was presents enough for me
it IS a wonderful life!

Tonight,
as George Bailey’s heart is warmed again
with town’s people gloriously giving
and songs are shared
and joy is dispersed
we find these moments to grasp at
we find these moments and glimpses of heaven
and…
it IS a wonderful life!

SES 12-24-14

December 25, 2014 0

At Christmas (A poem)

I’m keeping warm, this heart of mine
in winter’s air, this soul repines,
these bones, but brittle glory be
the wonders of His love to see.

I dare not miss nor neglect this grace
and lose out on heavn’s holy place
a song of praise, a song of peace
a hope of joy will never cease.

And so I glimpse into that stable
the Son of God, no, not a fable.
A gift of hope, of love divine
salvation givn’ to all mankind.
SEStrissel 12-19-14

December 19, 2014 0

Question: What is your greatest Christmas memory?

I don’t often delve into the realms of reminiscing and romanticizing about Christmas…but sometimes it helps to really appreciate what you have. It helps to remember. To bring to mind that which we have perhaps lost along the journey. Bringing to mind these precious memories helps us to recognize the blessings in this life. This is an Advent Thanksgiving of sorts. In these moments of appreciation we can thrust ourselves back into joy which can overflow our souls if we let it. Bringing to mind these moments, these Christmas memories helps us cope with the hardships that perhaps we’re facing now. It can help us get through the “dark days”. It’s therapeutic. It is cathartic. It can be life changing.

Let Me Start With A Story Telling (And then it’s your turn!)
Years ago, during a very busy Christmas season, just like this year, I was working long hours and in dire need of rest.
I was still in college at the time and just before Christmas break and midterm finals I would drive for my parents.
When I say drive, what I mean is that I was a Christmas Red Kettle Campaign driver. The days were long, the nights swiftly approached far too soon (4:30pm), and I would spend long hours driving from kettle location to kettle location burning tanks of gas as I went. That van became my dorm room when I had to study. That van became my dinning room table when I grew hungry.

As I drove the daily routes to and from kettle sites, I got to know the bell ringers who rang at those locations. Many would arrive at The Salvation Army corps building and I would have to transport them because most would not have reliable transportation on their own. A couple of individuals in particular, whom I will call Frank and Joe were some of “my regulars”. Frank and Joe were quite dirty and smelly most days. I don’t say that to be mean, it was just simply how it was. They were both from hard living lifestyles, they both lived with government assistance because of slight mental disabilities, they truly struggled in life. These two friends lived in a little, run down trailer at a trailer park in some back lot, and if not for this driving position, I would never have met them. They weren’t much to look at but they did alright at their daily “jobs” ringing the bell at The Salvation Army’s red kettle.

Towards the end of the Christmas season, as the campaign was winding down and Christmas Eve was a day away, I chatted like I always did with my “regulars” on the way to their kettle sites. I asked them what they would be doing for Christmas. Some said they would be going to spend time with family. Some shared all of their Christmas plans in great detail. Frank and Joe remained silent throughout the conversation. I was getting close to the end of the route, I had dropped off most of the bell ringers, all except Frank and Joe. Looking back in the rear-view mirror, they both had dour expressions on their faces. I felt compelled to ask them once again what they would be doing for Christmas. They remained silent for a moment or two until Joe spoke up and said, “Well we really aren’t doing anything. We don’t have family around anymore, and we don’t really have any money to cook a nice meal.” I was slightly surprised by their honest and sad answer. I had been aware of the needs of some of our bell ringers, but I had never realized just how alone Frank and Joe truly were. Dropping them off that day I began to have this little voice in my head say, “You can help them have a Christmas!” I chewed on that thought all day as I drove and helped out around the corps. What could I possibly do to help them? That night I picked them back up, dropped off the full kettles at the corps and took Frank and Joe home to their little trailer in the back lot. We said our good-nights and farewells and I went home.

Christmas Eve rolled around and, as tradition, we only rang at the kettles for half the day as we all prepared to celebrate Christmas the following day. I picked up Frank and Joe and delivered them to their work sites for the shortened day and went about my duties. Along the way I was fortunate to have some extra spending money that I had be given and I was prepared to go and spend it…but something happened. A recollection of those two filthy guys in my van. Their dour faces in the rear-view mirror. The harsh life they found themselves in. I could do something for them…and so I did. I don’t say this for any kind of glory. I don’t tell this tale because I want you to think better of me, but the Lord had blessed me with some additional resources during that time and I was able to share those blessings with others who were more in need of it than I was. I went to the grocery store and got them a fully prepared Christmas dinner and then with the leftover money I was able to buy them a few small gifts. I wrapped the gifts and placed the full meal in a box together.

As the half-day wrapped up, and we put our kettles away. I loaded up my regulars for their journey home. The sun was setting and I too looked forward to some rest. Frank and Joe were my last drop-offs on my “homeward bound” route. As I dropped them off they said their normal farewells, but I surprised them that day. Parking the van, I went to the back and pulled out the box of food and gifts I had gotten them. At first they refused to accept it. Frank kept shaking his head and saying “no”. I told them it was a gift and I that wanted them to have it. Joe choked back some tears and in a husky voice said “thanks” as he nodded his head. They walked into their little trailer with the box of food and waved good-bye. I drove home to a warm home surrounded by family and I couldn’t help but feel, in a small way that the best Christmas gift I received that holiday season was the opportunity to genuinely give to a couple of guys who had nothing. In my heart I knew that giving was truly better than receiving gifts and in that moment I was able to find a deeper appreciation for the gift that God gave to us so long ago in a manger, the Savior of the world – Christ Jesus. Salvation was born and this gift of grace was given freely to us despite our lowly, undeserving hearts.

That is one Christmas memory that I still cherish to this very day. There are many more memories. Some greater than others, but THAT Christmas memory is certainly one hold onto.

NOW IT’S YOUR TURN…
What Christmas memories do you have?
Please leave comments below and share in the joys of Christmas together today!

December 19, 2014 0

Dear Salvation Army, Don’t Hate Christmas…but Don’t Worship it either

In my head I have this idealistic concept of what Christmas should look feel like.
I picture myself standing next to George Bailey as the whole town comes to rally around him. I picture all of us gathered around the Christmas tree all bright and sparkly, glittering and shiny, and we’re singing ‘Auld Lang Syne‘. We are all breathing in the regalia, drinking up our tasty glasses of egg nog and we’re all wearing those cheesy sweaters you only see at Christmas time. It’s a fantasy. It’s a dream. It’s certainly not reality. (just let me dream for a moment please)

Sometimes it’s Christmas worship…for all the wrong reasons.

There’s another side of me though.
It’s the side that comes out more often than not.
It’s a side that I seldom acknowledge.
With everything that we do this time of year…raising much needed funds, running ourselves sick so that by Christmas day, almost every year, we are literally sick…counting toys, sorting toys, dreaming about toys and the sounds of ringing bells (it really is a reoccurring nightmare)…that side of me wishes I never experience another Christmas again. This side of me HATES Christmas.

Bah…humbug.

I don’t say that lightly.
Sometimes I wish someone else would just take over and let me go put on my cheesy sweater so that I can stand by George Bailey again. Sometimes I honestly dread getting to this time of year. Now, I know what we do and why we do these things matters, it’s just that I can’t help but feel overworked, under-appreciated, and Christmas has become something that I hate instead of love. Did I do something wrong? Did I cancel Christmas because of my calloused heart? Am I the cause of this emotion? Sometimes that side of me rises up, rages, and won’t go back into its cage. It snarls at the “job”. It wails at the hours. It flails like a two year old in the middle of a grocery store when they don’t get what they want. The Grinch scream at the top of its lungs with veins popping out of its neck, the words are garbled yet still recognizable; “I HATE CHRISTMAAAAAS!”

But…
Then I get to Sunday morning.
Then I get to refocus my heart.
Then the raging animal gets locked up again in its dented cage.
Then I get to retrain these emotions.
Then I swallow them down.
Then I push back at these raw, sour feelings.
Then I get to realign my intentions and my attitude.
Then I realize that once again I’ve lost my way.
It’s Sunday.
It’s Advent.
Where is this holiness, this sanctified spirit within me?
Did I misplace it?
Did I leave in the pew next to the pew bible and discarded bulletin?
Is it sitting next to the advent candles ironically located above the crimson holiness table with the words of irony “Holiness unto the Lord”? Is it left in the chapel on Sunday?

Yes, we have made Christmas something to despise…sometimes.
Yes, we have worked ourselves to death…sometimes.
Yes, we make an impact on people’s lives…but are we really?
Yes, this system works…but is this the best we can do with the limited resources that we have?

All of these questions…
Not very many answers.

I really don’t hate Christmas.
I’m not green and please don’t call me the Grinch.
The two year old was left on the floor to finish that childish tantrum alone and embarrassed.

In my dream of the perfect Christmas I know that me and George Bailey are hanging out…but It’s just a dream.
I can’t worship this false ideal of what Christmas should look like either. The real world come crashing in.
For now I’ll forget about buying that cheesy Christmas sweater and lounging in a comfy couch next to that fantastically decorated Christmas tree sipping egg nog while singing Old Lang Syne.

But is there a middle ground here?
I don’t want the proverbial cake and eat it too.
I’m not complaining.
I am a servant and an Officer.
Though I think we might get our priorities backwards at times.
Servants of what exactly? Whose servants are we?

To help refocus and realign us today amidst the hustle and bustle of our crazy, busy day:

Luke 2:1-20

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. ²(This was the first census that took place while^[a] Quirinius was governor of Syria.) ³And everyone went to their own town to register.

⁴So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. ⁵He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. ⁶While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, ⁷and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

⁸And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. ⁹An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. ¹⁰But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. ¹¹Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. ¹²This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

¹³Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

¹⁴“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

¹⁵When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

¹⁶So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. ¹⁷When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, ¹⁸and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. ¹⁹But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. ²⁰The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
Something more for our Army to ponder today.
To God Be The Glory.

December 15, 2014 0

Dear Salvation Army, Expressions of Christmas Distribution…

It hasn’t happened yet…but, “Santa’s Workshop” is in full swing as presents and other gift items are placed on folding tables where our Sunday School class usually meets and are now being carefully sorted by a precious few volunteers. It sort of feels like a big build up to a crashing finale’ in an orchestra piece. The triple fortes are being played and soon the timpani will come exploding in the rallying final note that is held out, emphasized and controlled by the conductor’s raised hands…I’m waiting for the signal, the final “cut off”, the conclusion. It all culminates and concludes here. All the hard work, the radio spots, the television minutes, the rushing from place to place in order to drop off angel tree tags only to return numerous times to retrieve bags, boxes and ornately wrapped (even though year after year we ask for “unwrapped gifts”) presents.

Sometimes it seems a far cry from a small infant who was born into our world and placed in a feeding trough for animals. Sometimes, I can kind of see a glimpse of the nativity from our chapel from here. Sometimes, I wonder if this is as vital as we make it out to be, or if we’re missing the point…and by “we’re” I mean both you and me and those who receive such services.

But…Flashback from last year…
I saw Jesus.
I glimpsed His smile in a mother who’s cheeks were wet with tears because we could help her make ends meet this Christmas. -Times had been hard for her.
I glimpsed His caring eyes as parents came to our Social Worker and gave her a thanks laden card that said “you matter and without you here we would not have had a Christmas this year.”
I glimpsed His nail scared hands in the numerous voluntary services those who had come to give of themselves and of their time to this Christmas cause. In these simple gifts of services I saw a servant Jesus stooping down again to wash the disciples feet – how humbling such acts can be to behold!

I recall Jesus’ words to His disciples when they were squabbling over who would be the greatest disciple in the kingdom and Jesus cuts them off and says, “…whoever wants to be first among you must be the slave of everyone else.” (Mark 10:44) Sometimes I think this ministry is anything but “greatest work”, it is hard laborious, back breaking work. It has some rewards in this world, but notoriety and fame is certainly not a part of that. Sometimes living out this expression of servant demands far more than we’re willing to give.

Thankful and Thankless…
Not everyone will receive these gifts with grace. Some, with great pride will look upon such an offering and refuse it because it is beneath them. Some will scorn these works and the efforts put forth hour after back breaking hour by priceless volunteers because it doesn’t meet their standards. Yet, as infrequent as it occurs, a few will come having worn the bruises of this world, and with eyes welling up and choking back the weary restrains, say “thank you!”. These few make it worth while, not that we are looking for their gratitude, but it does help to know that an impact on our community has been made. It does help to feel productive for the Kingdom. No, perhaps souls were not won at some kind of “Toy Shop Mercy Seat”, but perhaps a seed of generosity, grace and love was planted here. Perhaps such acts of mercy will cultivate a loosening of the soil around hardened hearts.

And…as they go from that place, with bags of toys, clothing and food, children’s lives will be altered. Perhaps a glimmer of hope will be found. Perhaps this simple expression of love with spark a child-like interest in the Divine.

These Aren’t Just Toys…
This isn’t about the blockbuster movie series “Toy Story” where toys will come to life.
This is about something more, something deeply heartfelt, some sort of of personal/spiritual contact with another soul who is searching. This is not just about toys and physical needs being met…this is something more. This can be about something more if we can look past the tired eyes, the weary bones and herculean Christmas effort. Yes, it can be a sin to overwork ourselves. Yes, it can be wrong if we misplace the true meaning of Salvation born in a manger. This can be about so much more than just providing gifts at Christmas…but the question remains what will we make it to be?

Not Just Another Production Line…
I’ve been to Walmart, Target, Bestbuy and other market places this holiday season. I’ve seen the madness. I have witnessed the rush to get the perfect present. I too have stood in those check-out lines, waiting impatiently for my turn.
BUT…when families and individuals come to The Salvation Army, who are in need, we cannot treat them like just another number in a long line of other “customers”…they are people! There is dignity in grace. There is compassion in calling on names rather than numbers. Can we change this persona? Can we make it personal? Can we become something more than just another production line?

It’s coming…and as we provide these basic human services to those who are in need at our distribution, will they see Jesus in us? Can we share that hope? It may sound like lollipops and rainbows here, but the reality is what we do matters and we can truly make an impact for the Kingdom!

Are you ready?
Something more for our Army world to ponder today.
To God be the glory!

Isaiah 9:6
“For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.“

December 12, 2014 0

Dear Salvation Army, Expressions of an Officer at Christmas

Perhaps this will sound poetic and a little disjunct…perhaps you will relate.
Every year we gear up, dear Officer, staff, volunteers and friends.
Every year we spend countless hours planning, preparing and executing a plan for “others”.

Expressions:
I am tired.
I am weary.
I am a little banged up and bruised.
I am bruised physically,
but most of it is on the inside…the frequent personal encounters.
the connections with the cynical, the battered, the broken, the apathetic.
many have given up.
many have lost touch with compassion.
many are consumed with self-driven purpose.
sometimes all I can do is find one solitary moment and exhale.
sometimes I have laid tired bones upon a pew in a sanctuary that is far too often deserted.

at night, following the long burdensome day
I drive home and on my way I peer past windows and homes
illuminated by twinkling Christmas lights and trees carefully donned
with ornaments, keepsakes and aspirations.
I cannot help but covet in these moments.
I cannot help but long for something that vaguely resembles idealic Christmas’
I have seen on the big screen.
I cannot help but pine for something out of reach to me.
It is selfish, I know.
It is a little melodramatic.
it is, at times, unrealistic…it is a dream, a blur in my rearview mirror.
I park the car in the driveway, hang up my coat, lounge for a time and slumber for a while
only to do it all again.

Expressions of Purpose:
In spite of these emotions.
in spite of these longings.
in spite of my covetous spirit…I plod on.
There is a reason.
There is a purpose to this.
Something beyond working tired bones to a daily grind.
Something past human personal needs.

I have seen tired, hopeless eyes.
these eyes are not the ones staring back at me in the mirror.
I see them every day.
I see them in faces of parents desperately trying to make ends meet.
I see them in the eyes of single mothers who work three jobs
and is weeping in front of me.
I see hopelessness in the dirty work clothes of an underpaid worker
coming in for a foodbox because this month’s rent is late.

We could all just pretend these needs are not real.
we could imagine they all deserve the circumstances they find themselves in
we could easily compartmentalize this
push it down
swallow the guilt and conscience…
but we are soldiers.
we are fighters
we fight for more than food boxes and funding
we fight for the lives of these hopeless souls
we fight even in the midst of our covetous moments…
when in the rearview mirror we see a life that glitters and glimmers
beckoning to us…

sometimes we have to dig down deep to keep fighting.
sometimes we have to be pulled up short to be reminded.
sometimes we enter the fray with jaded hearts.
sometimes we would prefer to spectate, deliberate and end our day
by putting it all out of our minds.

Expressions of Reason:
Yes, dear soldier,
we work this insanity at Christmas
yes, sometimes it seems unholy, improper
all in vain.
We could walk away,
others will pick up the slack
others will finish what we started
others will lend a helping hand.
Does faith play into this?
Where does our walk with the Lord lead?
Have we left Him behind in OUR works?
Have we begun to do this great thing
for man’s glory instead of His glory?
Are our intentions pure?
Or are we just chasing the dollar signs?
Capturing notoriety….
“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me...”
(Luke 9:23)
Is this what discipleship looks like?
Do we get it wrong sometimes?
are we truly denying ourselves in this?
Is this “cross” worth carrying?
These questions arise in me during this time.
Sometimes His holy presence stills these thoughts
other times they get bantered about
tossed around, chewed on, bitten into
sometimes they get spit out…

Expressions of Compassion
But in the eyes of the hopeless
in the lives of the desperate
in the darkness of the forlorn
I have an opportunity to help.
I have a chance to mend brokenness
I have these hands that are able to pick up
the broken pieces and, with the holy spirit, help
to put the pieces back together again.
Can I attain and capture this compassion?
No.
It isn’t in me…it never was, nor will it ever be…
It isn’t something I am born with
or some sort of innate empathy for complete strangers…
I am, at times,
the priest that walks on by in that parable of the Samaritan.
I am incapable of it…by my own strength, heart, and power.
Without Him, I can do nothing.
Without His strength, heart, and power
this compassion is far beyond my reach.
But…
I want to help.
I want to serve.
I want to live this set-apartness
To experience this holiness
To shine His light…
Lord,
help me to express
your restoration
your forgiveness
your deliverance
your love.
-Amen.

These are some expressions of an Officer at Christmas.
There’s nothing wrong or right about it, just expressions, inflections, conversations of the heart.
Often times these conversations become reality and represent us.
I understand weariness.
I understand frustrations.
I understand fighting this – for good and for ill.

In the end, at least for me, it boils down to where my heart is…whose heart is mine…what or who I serve…
this makes all the difference between pointless, mindless work and mission-filled service to the Almighty.

Something for the Army to ponder today.
To God Be The Glory!

December 10, 2014 5

Tag: Christmas