I saw this mask on Amazon and it spoke to me.

First of all, I love all things Tolkien. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read through The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and even The Silmarillion. For a while, I was reading through them every year.

But lately, I feel in my bones that I really do need an adventure, preferably with dragons and gold and such. It would do my heart good to be involved in a quest with a bit of danger and excitement.

Maybe after 2020 ends . . .

Who sleeps with a ceiling fan running, even in the winter? This guy does.

One of my pet peeves is when I’m all hot and sweaty when I’m trying to sleep. There’s nothing worse than that in my opinion. I’d much rather be cold and add more blankets than be hot.

I can completely relate to the cat in the picture. How many times have I stuck my foot out from under the blanket to cool off a bit.

What’s the point? There’s not really one. I’m just giving you a little glimpse into the madness that is my mind. And also letting you know that my ceiling fan will be on tonight, regardless of how cold it gets outside tonight.

You’re welcome.

Seriously? Isn’t that like the best thing ever? When you find a stray curly fry in your bag of regular fries? Or better yet, an onion ring?

I love surprises like that. I love when something I’m buying turns out to be way less than I was expecting. It’s almost like Christmas came early.

I also love that God is the God of surprises. I believe there’s nothing He likes better than delighting His children at unexpected times.

I hope and pray that just as 2020 has been full of surprises (and not all of them pleasant), this Advent season will be full of unexpected joys for you and your loved ones.

Emmanuel. God has come. God is with us.

“A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes – and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas).

I wonder how many of us currently feel trapped in our present circumstances and see no way out. I wonder how many feel like they are destined to repeat the same old scenario day after day with nothing ever changing.

Advent means hope. Just as those people waited with hope up to the birth of Christ, so we wait with hope for His return. But it is not a passive waiting. We seek to be Jesus in the world while we wait for Him to make it right.

Advent means that just as every other promise of God has come to pass, so we know that the hope we have won’t disappoint. We don’t wait in vain.

May your fear and anxiety give way to hope and joy in this 2020 Advent season, knowing that He who promised is faithful, and will do what He said He would.

It’s easy to be overwhelmed by all that has been 2020. Pandemics, politics, and a plethora of other crazy events have left us all a bit blindsided. It’s easy to give into the anxiety and fear and doubts.

But God has said, “Never will I leave you nor forsake you. Never will I abandon my own who call upon me in faith and truth.”

When you stop panicking and start counting your blessings, you see less of your problems and more of God. You’re less overwhelmed by the world and more awed by the Author of the Universe, God Himself.

The best gift God ever gave to anyone was (and still is) Himself. First as a tiny infant so long ago in that manger in Bethlehem and now every day in the form of His Holy Spirit. What we need — what I need most– isn’t answers or a view of the big picture. What I need most is God Himself. Just knowing He’s near is enough. Just knowing He’s in control will be enough.

I distinctly remember reading a quote by Dave Ramsey that stuck with me years later. He said that leading and managing by fear isn’t good leadership but bad parenting for two year olds. How true that is.

If you read through your whole Bible, you will never find one time where God tells His people to live in fear. The admonition is to fear God– have a holy and healthy reverence for the King of the universe– and not anything else.

If you read the words of Jesus, you will not find a single time when He instructed us to live fearfully. He said for us to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves but not fearful. He said for anyone that was overburdened with anxiety to come to Him to find rest.

We’re not to live in fear. We’re also not to motivate others through fear. Love is the better way. Fear is always trying to control the actions of others, but love recognizes that other people have to make their own choices and that God is able to work even their bad decisions for the good.

Fear manipulates others. Love trusts God above all. Let faith not fear be what guides you and leads you through the remainder of 2020.

“Dear God,
Speak gently in my silence.
When the loud outer noises of my surroundings
and the loud inner noises of my fears
keep pulling me away from you,
help me to trust that you are still there
even when I am unable to hear you.
Give me ears to listen to your small, soft voice saying:
‘Come to me, you who are overburdened,
and I will give you rest…
for I am gentle and humble of heart.’
Let that loving voice be my guide.
Amen.” (Henri Nouwen)

I believe that God never meant for His children to live in fear or to lead others through fear. He wants us to be wise and cautious, but not afraid. The key to overcoming anxiety is trust– no matter what my fears and my feelings are telling me right now, I hold fast to faith in a Good Father whose word is forever firm and secure.

Pandemics pass but the Prince of Peace remains. COVID-19 will not have the last word. Trust in the perfect peace and love that will cast out fear.

“The Life-Light was the real thing:
Every person entering Life
he brings into Light.
He was in the world,
the world was there through him,
and yet the world didn’t even notice.
He came to his own people,
but they didn’t want him.
But whoever did want him,
who believed he was who he claimed
and would do what he said,
He made to be their true selves,
their child-of-God selves.
These are the God-begotten,
not blood-begotten,
not flesh-begotten,
not sex-begotten” (John 1:9-13, The Message).

This, my friends, is the real reason for Christmas.

Not gifts, as rewarding as they are to give and receive.

Not family and friends, though they are necessary to fully share in the experience of Christmas.

Not food, although I personally will enjoy my fair share of good food this Christmas season.

Christmas is Jesus, God with us, Emmanuel.

Hope is born into this world again.

“The house lights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton.

In the silence of a midwinter dusk there is far off in the deeps of it somewhere a sound so faint that for all you can tell it may be only the sound of the silence itself. You hold your breath to listen.

You walk up the steps to the front door. The empty windows at either side of it tell you nothing, or almost nothing. For a second you catch a whiff in the air of some fragrance that reminds you of a place you’ve never been and a time you have no words for. You are aware of the beating of your heart.

The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.

The Salvation Army Santa Claus clangs his bell. The sidewalks are so crowded you can hardly move. Exhaust fumes are the chief fragrance in the air, and everybody is as bundled up against any sense of what all the fuss is really about as they are bundled up against the windchill factor.

But if you concentrate just for an instant, far off in the deeps of yourself somewhere you can feel the beating of your heart. For all its madness and lostness, not to mention your own, you can hear the world itself holding its breath.”

I was reminded of this little story from a friend of mine who spoke at Kairos tonight. It’s from the book Abba’s Child by Brennan Manning:

Once a woman asked me to come and pray with her father, who was dying of cancer. When I arrived, I found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. I assumed the old fellow had been informed of my visit.

“I guess you were expecting me,” I said.

“No, who are you?”

“I’m the new associate at your parish,” I replied. “When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up.”

“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bed-ridden man. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Puzzled, I shut the door. “I’ve never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man, “but all my life I have never known how to pray. At the Sunday Mass I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head.

“I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” he continued, “until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, ‘Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here’s what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because He promised, “I’ll be with you all days.” Then just speak to Him and listen in the same way you’re doing with me right now.’

“So, Padre, I tried it, and I like it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d send me off to the funny farm.”

I was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then I prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the rectory.

Two nights later the daughter called to tell me that her daddy had died that afternoon.

“Did he seem to die in peace?” I asked.

“Yes. But there was something strange. In fact, beyond strange—kinda weird. Apparently just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside his bed.”