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.”

I keep posting things like this, not because I like repetition or beating that proverbial dead horse, but because I need all the reminders.

I need to remember that gratitude unlocks the miracles and opens my eyes to see God in the world. It’s what keeps me celebrating instead of cynical.

So forgive me if I post these from time to time. I’m forgetful and prone to worry a lot of the time (especially in this crazy year). You might see this post again at some point in the future. It will still be as true then as it is now, just as the God who is faithful now will still be faithful then, just as all His promises that are true now will be true then.

I have to give a big kudos to Netflix for shows like The Crown. They definitely got it right in my opinion as far as the look of the series. From the actors to the locations to the production, everything is top notch. You might even say it’s right champion.

It’s uncanny how much Emma Corrin captures the look and mannerisms of Princess Diana. I was able to catch a small glimpse into the life of the People’s Princess, with all the tremendous pressure and stress that was on her from day one.

All I can say is that I’m thankful that I’m not royalty. I also can add that it’s wise never to judge someone until you’ve been able to walk in their shoes (proverbially). Then it’s still a good idea not to judge.

I can’t imagine how I would have acted in some of the same circumstances. If I’m honest, I don’t think I’d have done as well as these people did. I probably would have folded like a cheap card table.

It’s easy to say but not as easy to practice, but you can never presume to know anyone based on their actions. You need to get to know the person and where they came from and what they went through. You wouldn’t want people to inform their opinion of you based on one or two isolated incidents.

I’m thankful that the same God who knows me best is the one who loves me most. I can’t begin to fathom such boundless grace, mercy, and love. Perhaps if we want people to know that same love of God, it starts with us showing much more grace and mercy to them and a lot less lecturing about what they’re doing wrong. After all, it’s kindness that leads to repentance and life.

My belly is fully and my heart is content.

I didn’t quite eat my weight in turkey and dressing as I thought I might. I did get in all my prerequisite Thanksgiving meal sides. It was a good meal.

I’m thankful that I got to spend this holiday with my family– my parents, my sister and her family.

I’m thankful for my health in 2020, a year that is constantly teaching me not to take anything good for granted.

I’m thankful for one little tortie that still likes to curl up in my lap and hang out with me for a while. She’s good people.

Above all, I’m thankful for the steadfast love of the Lord that never ceases, His mercies that are new every morning, and His faithfulness that is as unending as it is great.

I know I’ve posted this before, but it seems so very appropriate right now for so many of us.

How many of you feel

deep,

down

and under?

Trust me. You are not alone.

Remember that pearls come from deep dark places. Remember also that it takes a bit of irritation inside an oyster to produce a pearl.

So maybe those difficult people, that stressful job, that neverending commute, those social media posters, and everything else that gets on your nerves are just God’s way of refining you and transforming you into that pearl of great price.