Crossing the Threshold

 

Remembering the Way the Lord Has Led Us

“Observe the commands of the Lord your God, 

walking in obedience to Him and revering Him.”

Deuteronomy 8:6

As the people of Israel stand on the edge of the Promised Land, Moses speaks with deep pastoral wisdom. A new chapter is about to begin, yet he knows the greatest danger is not behind them, but ahead. Prosperity and progress can quietly erode reverence if memory fades. So Moses urges them to remember—to walk humbly and to fear the Lord, especially when life becomes full and settled. “When you have eaten and are satisfied… be careful that you do not forget the Lord” (Deuteronomy 8:10–11). Remembering becomes the discipline that keeps faith alive as God’s people move forward.

As this year draws to a close, we find ourselves standing at a similar threshold. Like Israel, we carry gratitude alongside unfinished work, unanswered prayers, and hopes still waiting to be fulfilled. Before rushing into a new year of plans and resolutions, we are invited to pause and look back. As a family, it can be meaningful to choose a simple stone of remembrance—a small stone placed on a table or shelf—as a way of naming God’s faithfulness over the past year. Each person might share a moment when God provided strength, guidance, forgiveness, or peace. Such remembering is not nostalgia; it is testimony. It gently asks our hearts, Where do I stand with God today? What has He already carried us through?

From this place of remembrance, we approach the idea of New Year resolutions differently. Scripture does not call us to resolve out of fear or self-improvement, but to respond in trust and dependence. Moses’ words remind us that obedience flows from reverence, not anxiety—and that true change comes not by our own strength, but through the quiet, faithful work of the Holy Spirit. Our resolutions, then, are not demands we place on ourselves, but holy responses to God’s grace: to walk more attentively, to live more gratefully, to love more patiently, and to trust more deeply as the Spirit shapes us from within. As the year ends, we release what remains unfinished into God’s care, confident that the Lord who has led us this far will continue to guide us forward. His purposes unfold with quiet strength, as the Spirit leads us one faithful step at a time.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, teach us to walk humbly and remember the way You have led us.  As this year ends, help us give thanks for Your faithfulness, release what is unfinished into Your care, and form our resolutions in trust rather than striving. Lead us gently into the year ahead. Amen.

The Freedom of Friendship

Chosen to Love

Scripture Reading: John 15:12–17

“I have called you friends.” — John 15:15

As we stand at the doorway of a new year, our peace is often shaped by what we can see and measure—circumstances, outcomes, and expectations. Yet Jesus offers a joy that does not depend on what is visible or predictable. He tells us that His desire is that His joy may be in us, and that our joy may be complete (John 15:11). This joy flows from abiding in Him, from lives intertwined with Christ so deeply that we are no longer tossed about by changing fortunes. Rooted in the Vine, we discover a steady wholeness that holds us firm through both hardship and ease.

This joy expresses itself in love—“that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). Jesus’ love is not abstract or sentimental; it is self-giving and concrete, willing even to lay down its life (John 15:13). The love we are asked to share is not something we must create from our own limited resources, but a gift we first receive. As we abide in Christ’s love, it begins to overflow naturally into listening, helping, forgiving, and giving—often in quiet, ordinary ways.

What makes such a life possible is Jesus’ astonishing declaration: “I do not call you servants any longer… I have called you friends” (John 15:15). Friendship with Christ does not depend on physical sight, perfect understanding, or emotional certainty. Helen Keller, blind and deaf from an early age, spoke of her faith with simple clarity when she said, “I know Him because I love Him.” Her words remind us that knowing Jesus is ultimately a matter of the heart. As the year unfolds, we are invited to release the need to prove our worth or grasp for control, and instead to abide—living as friends of Christ, rooted in His joy, shaped by His love, and resting in his peace.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, thank You for calling us Your friends. Teach us to abide in Your love beyond what we can see or understand. Shape our hearts by Your joy and grace, that we may love one another as You have loved us and bear fruit that endures. Amen.

 

Chosen in Gratitude

Scripture Readings: 1 Thessalonians 1:2–10; Luke 2:36–38

We remember before our God and Father 

your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love,

 and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

1 Thessalonians 1:3

Our identity as the "chosen" of God is not found in status or outward success, but through the visible transformation of our character. In 1 Thessalonians 1:2–10, Paul recognizes God’s choosing of the believers through their "faith at work, love in action, and hope that endures." This election is not a hidden secret, but a lived reality that bears fruit in the world. As the year wanes, we are invited to look back and give thanks for the quiet evidences of grace—those moments where God’s hand shaped us unseen, moving us from mere words to "power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction." Gratitude, therefore, becomes the true language of election; we realize we are chosen because we see His love actively working through us.

This spirit of gratitude is embodied in the Witness of Waiting found in the life of Anna (Luke 2:36–38). Having spent decades in the Temple through "fasting and prayer night and day," Anna’s long years of devotion did not lead to bitterness, but to a sharpened spiritual clarity. The moment she sees the child, she begins to give thanks to God and speaks of Him to all who are "waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem." Her life teaches us a vital lesson: those who have learned to wait well become the first witnesses when hope arrives. Anna was chosen to recognize the Messiah not by a sudden stroke of luck, but because her years of patient prayer had prepared her heart to see what others missed.

Today, we find ourselves in our own season of waiting as we transition toward a new year. We are reminded that our faithfulness is a response to the One who first called us. Like the Thessalonians, our lives can become a "model" to others when we allow our gratitude to overflow into action. Like Anna, our persistence in prayer prepares us to testify to the redemption that is already at work in our midst. We conclude this year not by counting our own achievements, but by giving thanks for the enduring mercy that has held us. We recognize that we are chosen not for our own glory, but to be witnesses to the Light that has finally dawned.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank You for the quiet evidences of Your grace that have shaped us throughout this year. Grant us the patience of Anna, that we might learn to wait well and recognize Your redemption in the world around us. May our lives be marked by faith, love, and hope as we rest in the joy of being chosen by You. Amen.

Chosen by God

Before We Choose

Scripture Readings: Psalm 89:1–18; Luke 2:22–35

“I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever; 

with my mouth I will make Your faithfulness 

known through all generations.”

Psalm 89:1

As Christmas draws toward its close, Psalm 89 calls us back to the deep foundation of our faith: God’s steadfast love comes first. “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; love and faithfulness go before You” (Psalm 89:14). Before we respond, before we understand, before we act, God has already bound Himself to His people in covenant mercy. Our lives do not rest on our resolve, but on promises spoken long before we knew how to answer. This is where the Christian life always begins—not with self-confidence, but with trust in God’s enduring faithfulness.

That same quiet truth is revealed in the temple when Mary and Joseph bring the child Jesus in simple obedience (Luke 2:22). There is no spectacle—only faithfulness. Yet Simeon, shaped by long years of waiting and prayer, recognizes what others cannot see. Taking the child in his arms, he declares, “My eyes have seen Your salvation, which You have prepared in the sight of all nations” (Luke 2:30–31). God’s Messiah is revealed not to the hurried or powerful, but to those who have learned to wait with hope. Recognition is born not of insight alone, but of patience formed over time.

Simeon’s blessing holds both joy and cost. This child will bring light and salvation, yet His path will be marked by suffering (Luke 2:34–35). From the beginning, God’s choosing is not sentimental—it is redemptive and costly. Today we are invited to begin again, resting not in what we can accomplish, but in what God has already promised and fulfilled. Like Simeon, we wait with trust, confident that the God who chooses also completes His work.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, help us remember that You chose us before we chose You. Teach us to wait with hope, to trust Your promises, and to rest our lives in Your steadfast love. Amen.

Christ the true center

Christ at the Center of Everything

Scripture Reading: Colossians 1:15-23

"Christ is before all things, and in him all things hold together." 

Colossians 1:17

The infant resting in the manger is far more than a helpless child; He is the eternal image of the invisible God and the architect of the entire universe. As we see in Colossians, all things—from the furthest stars to the smallest cells—were created through Him and for Him. He is the "glue" of existence, the one in whom all things hold together. When our lives feel fragmented or overwhelmed by the chaos of the season, we find peace in knowing that the same hands once wrapped in swaddling clothes are the very hands that sustain the cosmos and our individual lives.

This cosmic supremacy is matched by a profound humility as Jesus enters into the specific covenant life of Israel. On His eighth day, the Son of God submitted to circumcision (Luke 2:21), bringing Himself under the requirements of the Law He would eventually fulfill. In this moment, He was officially given the name revealed by the angel: Jesus, meaning "The Lord Saves." By submitting to this earthly ritual and receiving His name, He began the work of reconciliation, proving that He is not a distant ruler, but a Savior who fully entered our human experience to bridge the gap between us and God.

Placing Christ at the true center of our lives means recognizing that He is the focal point of all reality, not just a part of our holiday tradition. When we shift our focus from our own efforts to His supremacy, we can surrender our need for control and trust Him with our fractured pieces. Because He holds all things together, our work, our relationships, and our struggles find their proper place and purpose in Him. By centering ourselves on Christ, we move out of the noise of the world and into the restorative peace of His eternal presence.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, We thank You for sending Your Son to be the center of all things. We ask that You would bind us together in Your love and grace. Help us to recognize Jesus as the Lord over our home, our conversations, and our hearts. May His name be honored in everything we do. Amen.

Sealed with the Promise

 

Scripture Reading: Ephesians 1:3-14

“When you believed, you were marked in Him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance.”

Ephesians 1:13–14

After the angels fell silent and the shepherds returned to their fields, Christmas did not end—it deepened. What was announced from heaven and revealed in a manger began to unfold into a fuller story. Paul gives language to what the shepherds could only sense: in Christ, blessing follows blessing. We are chosen before the foundation of the world, redeemed through His blood, forgiven by grace, and gathered into God’s great purpose (Ephesians 1:4–10). Christmas is not a single moment of wonder; it is the unveiling of God’s eternal plan to bring all things together in Christ.

At the heart of this unfolding gift is assurance. Paul declares that those who believe are sealed with the promised Holy Spirit—a living mark of belonging and a guarantee of what is to come (Ephesians 1:13–14). Just as angels once guided the shepherds to the child, the Spirit now guides and guards the hearts of believers. God’s grace is not fragile or temporary. What God begins in Christ, God secures by His Spirit. Salvation is not sustained by our effort, but by God’s faithfulness.

As the days after Christmas settle back into ordinary rhythms, this promise remains: we belong to God. We are not visitors to grace, but heirs of it. The God who came near in Bethlehem continues to dwell with us, sealing us for a future already held in His hands. Christmas grace does not fade—it roots itself deeply, shaping how we live, trust, and hope.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank You for every blessing given to us in Christ. Seal us anew with Your Spirit, ground us in Your promises, and help us live as those who belong to You— secure, grateful, and full of hope. Amen.

Born from Above

The Gift of a New Beginning

 "Jesus answered him, 'Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.'" 

John 3:3

On this Christmas morning, the travel-worn road has finally reached its destination. The "urgent weight of the miracle" that Mary carried through the dust and the dark is now a crying infant, cradled in the quiet peace of a new dawn. Yet, as the sun rises over Bethlehem, we realize that the miracle of the manger was never meant to remain in a stable; it was meant to move into the human heart. The physical birth of the Son of God is the divine spark that ignites our own spiritual rebirth. Just as Christ was born into our world to bridge the gap between heaven and earth, He invites us to be "born from above" into His—transforming this day from a mere commemoration of history into a living, breathing reality within our own souls.

This new life is the ultimate fulfillment of the "surgical" grace we encountered yesterday. As we reflected on the Great Exchange, we saw that God does not simply patch up our old lives; He makes us entirely new. Following yesterday’s promise, we recognize that if anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation. The old ways of striving, the shadows of our past, and the heavy chains of the Law have passed away. In the manger, we see the beginning of a world where the old order is dying and a new, Spirit-filled humanity is being born. The King who was born in the night did not come to demand more labor from weary souls, but to breathe His own life into our lungs, inviting us to trade our exhaustion for His eternal vitality.

As the festivities of Christmas Day unfold, the invitation is to move beyond the sentiment of a child in a cradle and into the wonder of a Spirit-led life. We are called to be a people who are perpetually being made new, open to the Spirit’s renewing work in every moment. The same God who met us where we truly were in our brokenness now calls us to walk in the freedom of a new creation. Today, let us yield to the breath of God, allowing the miracle of Bethlehem to become the miracle of our own hearts—reborn, redeemed, and joyfully surrendered to the One who makes all things new.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, we stand in wonder today at the gift of Your Son and the promise of new life. Spirit of God, breathe upon us today; blow through the closed doors of our hearts and recreate us from above. Amen.

The Sacred Exchange

 God Meeting Us Where We Are

Scripture Reading : 2 Corinthians 5:16–21

"That is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation." — 2 Corinthians 5:19

On this final evening before the Nativity, the long road ends not in a palace, but in the humble shadows of a stable. As the sun sets over Bethlehem, Mary leans into the urgent weight of the miracle within her, knowing the moment of delivery is at hand. The journey has been long, and the surroundings are far from ideal, yet this is the precise setting for the "Great Exchange." In the quiet of this night, the distance between the Holy God and broken humanity is finally bridged. The manger is not just a place of rest for a newborn; it is the starting point of a divine mission where God enters our physical reality to reclaim what was lost, signaling that He is not afraid of our mess, our poverty, or our limitations.

This "Great Exchange" reminds us that the Incarnation always points toward reconciliation. As Paul writes, "In Christ, God was reconciling the world to Himself.” The Incarnation is not sentimental—it is surgical. God enters our fractured reality not to observe it, but to heal it from within. The shadow of the cross already falls over the straw of the manger, reminding us that the King they carried did not come to demand more labor from weary souls, but to welcome us home as heirs to the Father’s infinite grace. He takes on our flesh and our brokenness so that we might eventually share in His righteousness.

As we stand on the threshold of Christmas morning, we are invited to consider the profound truth that God meets us exactly where we truly are. He does not wait for us to clean up our lives, resolve our doubts, or finish our internal journeys before He arrives. He comes to the dusty stable of our hearts, offering Himself as the bridge between our failure and His faithfulness. Today, let us lay down the burden of trying to "fix" ourselves for His arrival and instead rest in the humble gratitude of being found. The Great Exchange is complete: we bring our need, and He brings His presence, transforming our brokenness into a temple of His glory.

Prayer 

"Heavenly Father, we thank You for the grace that makes us Your children. We are tired of trying to earn what You have already given, and we lay down the heavy weight of our own expectations at Your feet. As the road finally leads us to the manger, let us hear Your voice calling us 'Beloved,' and give us the courage to cry 'Abba' with the quiet joy of those who are finally home. Amen."