Rest stops

 
Then they came to Elim, where there were twelve springs and seventy palm trees, and they camped there by the water. – Exodus 15:22
     
     
Since our daughter settled in South Carolina, seven hundred miles away, my husband and I used to make the twelve-hour drive to visit with her and her family two or three times a year. We discovered that. At our age, long trips are easier to take if we make frequent stops to rest and avoid road weariness. These days we book a flight. 
     
Thousands of years ago, the Israelites also had a long trip to make. One million men, women, and children left the bondage of Egyptian slavery and trekked across a barren wilderness where there was little to eat or drink, and where they were exposed to rain, wind, sun, and storms, headed for a land flowing with milk and honey. Along the way, they got tired, thirsty, hungry, and discouraged.
     
But they were on a faith-growing journey, and the One who led them had many lessons to teach them. They failed test after test. Just when they were in the deepest despair and discouragement, hope dwindling and faith faltering, God intervened—with manna from heaven, water from desert rocks, and an oasis with twelve springs of water and seventy palm trees.
     
I’m sure the weary travelers would have loved to pitch their tents and stay at that oasis the rest of their lives. But eventually they had to move on. The oasis wasn’t their destination.
     
The Israelites’ journey through the wilderness is a picture of our journey through life. Once the shackles of our bondage to sin are broken, we begin our journey to the Promised Land—Heaven. We, too, struggle through the wilderness, which—just like the Israelites’ journey so long ago—takes up most of the trip. And we, too, encounter oases sprinkled along the way. But we cannot abide in the rest stops. They are there to provide a temporary respite from the difficulties of life, refresh our minds and spirits, and renew our strength.
     
Sometimes I’d like to find an oasis and move in permanently. But God calls me to venture into the wilderness on a faith-growing journey. And, just like with the Israelites, He will be with me every step of the way.

Thank You, Lord, for the wilderness that stretches my faith and the oases that refresh me and give me the strength to journey on. Amen.
     

Special-Tea: Read Exodus 15:22-16:1

Following the star

Once again the star appeared to them, guiding them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the child was. – Matthew 2:9 (NLT)

     
When I was a child, Christmas Eve was a magical time. Perhaps it was the air of excitement and anticipation. Perhaps it was the lights on the Christmas tree, casting a soft glow on the darkened living room throughout the long evenings. Perhaps it was the carols we sang. Perhaps it was the Christmas story itself, with all its mystery and awe.
     
Maybe that’s what made Christmas Eve so magical: I accepted without reservation the Christmas story in its entirety – from a virgin giving birth to the Son of God in a stable, to angels announcing the birth to lowly shepherds, to a bright star leading the Magi to Jesus. I understood that whatever science or nature could not explain, God could. After all, He is the Creator and set the laws of nature in motion. No doubt poisoned Christmas for me.
     
These days, however, there are those who would remove the reason for the season, who scoff at the miracles and spoil the magic, who reject that which cannot be explained except by the touch of God.
     
The Magi, learned men from the East, could have scoffed, too. But they didn’t reject what their own eyes saw – a colossal star with a radiance that shone even during the day. These astronomer-mathematicians recognized the importance of this brilliant star that appeared at the time of Jesus’ birth.
     
But how did these heathen Gentiles, these nonbelievers, know that a Jewish king was born?
     
Familiar with the prophecies of Daniel, who was an exile in their land hundreds of years earlier, these wise men who studied the heavens knew the Jews were waiting for a Messiah promised by God Himself, someone who would save them and rule them forever.
     
They knew the Hebrews considered the constellation Pisces as representing their own nation. The planet Saturn, viewed as a wandering star, represented Jerusalem, their capital city. Jupiter, another “wandering star,” denoted royalty.
     
When Jupiter and Saturn converged in Pisces three times in two months, the wise men knew something big was about to happen. This astronomic event normally occurred only once every 804 years. Then a few months later, Mars joined Jupiter and Saturn in the constellation.
     
As they puzzled over the meaning of this, they noted the first time this happened was on the Jewish Day of Atonement. Putting all this together, they reasoned that a Hebrew king was about to be born in Judea.
     
Then, another amazing event occurred: A brilliant new star appeared in the constellation Aquila (the eagle), brighter than anything they’d ever seen, so intense it could be seen in the daytime. To the wise men, this brilliant new star, actually an exploding star called a nova, was the announcement they were waiting for: The King of the Jews had been born.
     
A king whose birth even the heavens proclaimed was a king they had to see. So they prepared for the long trip to Bethlehem, where they found the infant king. They didn’t doubt when they found the child not in a palace, but in a humble house. They didn’t doubt when they saw how poor his parents were.
     
They believed what most Jews in that day weren’t even aware of – that this child was both a King and a God. When they presented their costly gifts – gifts denoting royalty – they worshiped Him.
     
For these astronomical events to come together at the very time Jesus was born, for Gentile magi to recognize the significance of it all, for this star to lead them to the exact location of the child they were seeking – can only be explained by the touch of the Divine – God reaching out and making the impossible happen.
     
The wise men – nonbelievers – believed the miracle in the sky and followed that star until it led them to the Savior.
     
What about you? Are you following that star?

Jesus, when the wise men saw the star that led to You, they rejoiced with “exceedingly great joy.” Fill me with this joy every day as I follow the star that leads to You. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Matthew 2:1-12

Joseph's Dilemma

Your throne will be established forever.- 2 Samuel 7:16 (NIV)

  
He jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat. The fragrance of freshly cut wood wafted through the darkness from the shop next door.
  
Joseph, son of David. A fancy title for a poor carpenter from Nazareth.
  
Don’t be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, for what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.
  
He grew up with the Scriptures. He knew the prophecies. Someday God would send Israel a Savior. But here? Now? In his family? What did he have to offer God? He wasn’t rich, famous, or powerful, and had no influence with those who were.
  
She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus.
  
Jesus – one who saves. Surely the Messiah would be born in a family who had more than he. Why, it was all he could do to prepare a home for Mary. He’d worked so hard, was almost done when she shattered him with the news that she was pregnant.
  
“NO!” he cried into the darkness. “It can’t be! Not Mary!”
  
He knew the laws, the punishment for adultery. He had no choice. He had to do what was right. Maybe he could divorce her quietly, save them both the shame, the explanations to prying questions.
  
Don’t be afraid to take Mary home as your wife.
  
Could it be? Could it really be? Joseph sat up, the fingers of dawn reaching into the shadows of his heart.
  
Don’t be afraid.
  
His sense of justice gave way to the need to believe the impossible. He reached for his robe and sandals. There was much to do. Mary was waiting.
  
As I light the fourth candle on my Advent wreath, I pray for the strength to respond to Your call, dear God, even when I don’t understand. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Matthew 1: 18-25

Christmas Joy

Dear Lord, I'm feeling down today,
The bills are stacked up high;

With Christmas just two weeks away,
Our bank account's run dry.

The kids have all presented lists

Of things they want to see;

I hope and pray there's nothing missed

Beneath our Christmas tree.

But I don't have the money for
Expensive clothes and toys;
My credit card can't take much more--
Lord, where's my Christmas joy?

Perhaps it's wrapped up in that hug
My daughter gave this morn,
Or stacked with wood my son did lug
To keep us nice and warm.

Perhaps it's in my oldest's eyes
When he comes home on break,
And sees I've baked those pumpkin pies
He wanted me to make.

Perhaps it's in the tired lines
Around my husband's eyes;
Perhaps in love that's grown with time,
I've found the greater prize.

A friend who gives a hearty smile
And cupboards that aren't bare;

And even if they aren't in style,
I've got some clothes to wear.

A family who believes in me
In all things, great and small.
Dear God, I think I finally see -

I am not poor at all!

For where your treasure is,

there will your heart be also.

~ Matthew 6:21 (RSV)

(c) 1996 Michele T. Huey

NOTE: I wrote this poem in 1996, when my children were 20, 17, and 12. It's still my favorite Christmas poem. It was published in two Chicken Soup books under the title of  "I Am Not Poor at All." 

A Him-possible situation

The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.  - Isaiah 7:14 (NIV)
          
“Did it actually happen, or was it all a dream?” Mary wondered, stuffing an extra robe into the basket. Was Elizabeth really pregnant as the messenger had claimed? In her old age? Impossible!
     
But then he had added, “Nothing is impossible with God.”
     
This impromptu trip to Jerusalem would clear up any doubts. Then she’d deal with Joseph. She couldn’t imagine what his reaction would be. She already planned what she’d say.
     
“Joseph, I’m going to have a baby, but don’t worry, I haven’t been unfaithful. God sent an angel to tell me that I’m to be the mother of the Messiah we’ve been waiting for so long!”
     
Oh, brother, what a mess! Joseph was understanding, more so than most men, but even he’d laugh at something like that.
     
“Oh, Joseph,” she sighed, remembering when he first asked her father for her hand in marriage. How she rejoiced when he’d given his consent! The dowry paid, she waited, trying to be patient, while Joseph prepared the home they would soon share. And now this.
     
“Joseph,” she pleaded silently, “please believe me.”
     
The angel’s words echoed in her mind and sank down into her heart: Nothing is impossible with God.
     
“Yes, that’s it!” she thought, pulling on the lid of the basket with a flourish and fastening it to the sides. She’d leave the matter with Him.
     
Like Mary, I, too, often face times when I’m up against it with no way out. That’s when I turn things over to God. What’s impossible for me is possible for Him.
     
     
As I light the third candle on my Advent wreath, Father, I am reminded that You are still the God of the impossible. Give me Mary’s simple faith when the winds of doubt blow. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Luke 1:26-38

     
     

The Promise

 A shoot will come from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. ~ Isaiah 11:1 (NIV)
      
      
“Bears extra-large, extra-sweet, extra-firm fruit so you enjoy fresh peach flavor…” My mouth was watering already as I ordered two three-foot trees. It would take years of cultivation before that promise could be fulfilled, but never mind: Maybe by the time I had grandchildren, those luscious peaches would be mine.
      
But it was not to be. The trees never made it past the first year. I thought all hope was lost until one spring day two years later I noticed a small shoot pushing its way up through the grass. The peach tree! It wasn’t dead, after all! Somehow this little branch, defying all odds, sprang up from roots I’d thought were dead.
      
Likewise, when all seemed hopeless for God’s chosen people, the Israelites, in the darkest night of exile and oppression, He reminded them that He had not deserted them. Even as their homes, their temple, their holy city Jerusalem lay in ruins, God promised someday he would send a Savior to bring hope in the midst of despair, life in the valley of death, and healing to broken hearts and wounded spirits (Isaiah 61:1).
      
Sometimes the struggles of life get me down. Just when hope seems dead, God reminds me that, just as He was there for the Israelites so long ago, He’s there for me today, even when I can’t sense His presence. Grasping onto that tiny root of hope is all I need to get me through life’s rockiest ground.
      
      
Father God, as I light the second Advent candle, I remember the dark nights of my life, when all was lost. Thank you for giving me hope when I had none left. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Isaiah 9:2-7