I scanned through the list of names and Christmas gift ideas.

I highlighted the gifts we’d already purchased and circled the ones we still needed to buy.

A few ideas I crossed off. They simply weren’t a good fit for the person.

I let my eyes trail down the list.

Candies and toys for the nieces and nephews. They would have fun with those.

Plenty of chocolate and many practical items for our siblings and their spouses. Everything from kitchen items to socks. Hopefully they would be helpful.

I smiled. All the items on our list now seemed fitting. They would be useful and/or enjoyable for those who received them.

Next I considered the gifts we’d chosen for our little one. As a preschool teacher, I greatly enjoy children’s toys, much like a computer programmer gets excited about a new mouse or a carpenter might be thrilled with a new tool belt.

I had put a lot of thought into what to get for her, and done plenty of research – perhaps too much.

Some toys would thrill her for a week or two, but quickly become boring. Other toys were too advanced. Some toys were of flimsy materials that wouldn’t last.

It was hard to narrow down the options, but I finally did.

I chose a play food set since she is just beginning to get into pretend play. This should last her until she is 6 or older.

At a second hand store, I found an exciting puzzle – one with latches and doors. It’ll be a little challenging for her, but I’m certain she’ll like it.

We’re also adding blocks to our block set since she plays with them often.

Satisfied, I set aside my Christmas shopping list.

My mind wandered back to a joke I’d seen on Facebook.

It was a Christmasy comic. It showed Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus in a barn-type environment.

The caption read: “If there’d been three wise women instead.”

At the entrance, three well-dressed women stood holding boxes. The boxes were labeled, “Diapers”, “Formula”, and “Casseroles”.

Mary looked delighted as she exclaimed, “Perfect!”

At first, my eyes twinkled at the comic, but since then a much deeper thought has stayed with me.

The “wise women” brought the sorts of things I would give someone who’d just had a baby. It seems a very normal helpful response to the situation.

Then why did God, in His infinite wisdom, send wisemen with very different gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh?

Because God had something far greater on His mind.

The wise women were very helpful, yes, but casseroles only last a week, formula is done by 12 months, and diapers are typically a thing of the past by 3 or 4 years old. These women were only thinking about the next few weeks and months, or perhaps a handful of years.

While the wisemen’s gifts may have had immediate practical use, for example, the gold could have supported the family on their escape to Egypt, they foreshadowed something of greater significance.

God was looking ahead to the event, that would take place about 33 years later. A moment that would change history forever. On top of that, God had all of time on His mind when He chose which gifts to send. 

Gold was a gift fit for a king – a symbol of Jesus’ kingship.

Frankincense was used in incense – a reference to Jesus’ priestly role, and to His divinity.

Myrrh was used for embalming the dead – foreshadowing Jesus’ death on the cross.

(Reference: https://www.blueletterbible.org/Comm/smith_chuck/StudyGuides_Matthew/Matthew.cfm?a=931011 )

Why do I share all these thoughts? Because they have a powerful reminder for me.

Far too often, I find myself thinking like the wise women. I focus on the practical needs and think only of the next few days or weeks or perhaps a few years.

I forget that there is so much more to life than just the immediate practical needs.

I forget to think about eternity.

My conversations, my prayers for people, the greeting cards I write, the gifts I give… So often they are about current events or the very near future.

Yet eternity is a lot longer than now. Eternity is forever, but so much of now is temporary.

A part of me wants to argue. I can’t live with my head in the clouds. I have a household to care for, husband to love, and a toddler to raise. That takes a lot of paying attention to the now and the practical.

God understands these things. In fact, He is the one who has put me in this role. Yet still He says:

“Set your hearts on things above, … Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.” Colossians 3:1b-2 NIV

Another translation puts it: “seek the things above”. Colossians 3:1b CSB

What does this mean? I’m still working to figure that out in my current stage of life.

I do know, however, that I need to remember to think of the things pertaining to eternity more often.

How do I do that? Reading the Bible, going to church, and being part of a Bible study certainly help.

Another practical thing that I often forget to do, is singing songs of praise to God – especially songs that bring me back to the Gospel and thoughts of heaven.

I need to come back to the basics – the John 3:16 basics.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16 NIV

Do all my gifts have to be Bibles and Gospel tracts? No, God understands the need for practical things and the place for enjoyment. Yet underlying my gifts and interactions should be a heart that longs for those around me to know the life-giving joy of a relationship with Jesus and the promise of eternity spent with Him.

To have such a desire, I must have eternity on my mind.

 

After Thoughts: 

I have found many hymns, such as Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, include the Gospel and mentions of eternity spent with God. These help me set my mind on things above.

 

Did you know many traditional Christmas carols also include whispers of the Gospel and eternity spent with God? Try listening to Hark the Herald Angels Sing and you’ll see what I mean.

 

Want to know more about the gifts the wisemen brought? I encourage you to listen to this sermon about Matthew 2: https://messages.calvarychapel.ca/?message=799&via=rmcccalgary

 

I looked out the window as we sped along the highway. We’d left the forests and fruitful prairies of southern Alberta behind.

I stared across the barren hills of Montana. Even wild grass struggled to thrive here. There was not a house or building in sight.

This desolate landscape continued for mile after mile.

It changed, however, when the highway joined paths with the beginnings of the Missouri River.

As we zipped along the river valley, I observed lush trees and thriving farmland.

We drove past house after house clustered at the river’s edge. People were out on boats or busy tending their farms.

When I looked at the hills beyond the valley, I saw the same dry barren countryside with hardly a house to be found. Yet everywhere in the valley I saw vibrant colors of thriving plants and human habitation.

I marveled at the difference plentiful water makes. Good water is life-giving.

Then, hours later, we arrived in Yellowstone National Park.

(For those unfamiliar with the park, it is an area of the United States with volcanic history. Now, rather than lava, boiling water gurgles or sprays through holes in the ground. The water comes mixed with sulfur. The well-known geyser, Old Faithful, is only one of the many phenomenons to be witnessed.)

As we drove through the forests of Yellowstone National Park, I noticed a column of steam rising in the distance. As we got closer, we could see sputters of water bursting from the ground.

The runoff from this geyser poured over scaly white ground to a pool.

The steaming water from a nearby spring left orange build up where it trickled to join the pool.

I glanced at the trees in the area. They were ugly skeletons of branches. Not a speck of green could be found on them. They were bleached white and dead – oh so very dead.

As we drove on, we again passed through good forest with strong healthy trees interrupted by the occasional meadow of thick wild grass.

“Look! Bison.” I called as we came across another clearing.

The giant animals were grazing peacefully.

But then the landscape changed once again. Ugly skeleton trees stood ridged.

I looked around. Sure enough there was a nearby geyser spouting its venomous water.

Some days later, as we drove homeward, I pondered the things I’d seen.

I came to the question, “What type of water is flowing through me?”

Jesus offers Living Water (John 4).

That Living Water is like the river in Montana. Everywhere the river goes it brings life and abundance.

It doesn’t matter that the terrain the river cuts through is dry and barren – hardly habitable for humans. The river brings life with it.

Have I received that Living Water from Jesus today? Am I filled with it?

If I am filled with that Living Water, it will spill over bringing hope and encouragement to those around me.

Sometimes, however, I choose to do what the people of Israel did in Jeremiah’s day.

God declared: “They have abandoned Me, the fountain of living water, and dug cisterns for themselves…” (Jeremiah 2:13b CSB)

When I choose to try to do things myself rather than receiving the help God wants to give me, I quickly become like those geysers and springs in Yellowstone.

The water spouting from them is not life-giving. Regardless of how clear it may appear, it is venomous. It sucks the life out of nearby trees.

Indeed, the Norris Geyser Basin in Yellowstone has pools hot and acidic enough to melt through rubber boots and more.

So what will I choose today? Will I lean into Jesus to be filled with His Living Water, or will I try to do things on my own?

 

My phone beeps. There is a poor air quality alert for my area.

As I sit at my desk while my baby naps, I glance outside. I cannot see the blue sky. The sun is a weird shade of yellow casting a red glow on the floor.

My eyes wander to the other side of the valley where normally I would see green trees and a myriad of colours from the buildings. Everything is grey and faded.

I turn back to my computer. I only have so much time before my baby wakes up. I’ve got to make use of the time.

I pull up the email I’m working on.

A few minutes later, I glance up. The whole sky has dimmed to an orange fog. The speck of bright light which must be the sun is pumpkin orange. I cannot see the other side of the valley. I feel heavy inside and my fight-or-flight system considers kicking in.

I catch a whiff of smoke. I typically don’t mind the smell as it reminds me of many happy times around a campfire, but when the smoke is everywhere… I frown, hoping the windows will keep most of it out.

Trying to focus, I drag my gaze back to my computer screen, but that unsettling orange glow keeps drawing my attention back to the window.

I pray for the firefighters who are working to contain the fire, then remind myself that there is nothing more I can do right now. The forest fire is miles away. I would have to drive more than 500 km (~300 miles) to get there.

Right now, I need to focus on my task.

I turn to my computer. “Okay, I’ve just got to do the next thing. What is the one thing I need to do next?”

I need to look up some numbers to include in my email.

Okay, I can do that.

Done.

My eyes wander to the window. I may as well be living on Mars. That’s how orange it looks just now.

I glance at the baby monitor on my desk. She’s still asleep. I’ve got to keep working.

“Do the next thing.”

What’s the next thing?

Find the email addresses I’m sending this email to.

Okay, I can do that.

It takes me a few moments to locate the list. I notice I need to add a few more addresses. I do that.

I glance out the window. Still orange. So weird. Nearly spooky. It makes me feel anxious.

But I’ve got to do the next thing.

What’s the next thing?

Write a subject for the email.

Okay, I can do that.

After a few attempts, I am happy with the subject line.

I reach for my phone and move to the window. I switch to my camera and take several pictures. I want to capture the feel of it, but the camera simply won’t do justice to the strength of the orange outside.

I give up. Back at my desk, I remind myself, my baby could wake up any time now. I’ve got to do the next thing.

Proofread my email.

Okay, I can do that.

I read it aloud, tweaking some words as I go. At last, I am satisfied and hit send.

Leaning back in my chair, I peer out the window. Is it just me, or is the orange beginning to fade?

Oh, look! I can see some of the buildings across the valley. Certainly not in full colour, but the dim outlines are back.

I crane my neck to locate the sun. It appears somewhat, almost, yellow-ish again.

A hint of the weight inside me lightens. Perhaps, just maybe, the blue sky will be visible again and the sun will shine its happy yellow.

It might take a few days, but I know the sky is blue and I will not give up hope that I will see that blue again.

Why share this story? Because it holds a valuable reminder for me.

Sometimes life gets smokey when something creates smoke which comes in and blocks our vision. That something may be close to home and personal, or perhaps far bigger but further away.

Much of the time, there is nothing we can do to stop that smoke until the source fire is dealt with.

At this moment, I can pray, but beyond that there is nothing I can do to stop those forest fires. I am helpless to stop the smoke from crowding into my life.

The smoke makes it hard to see and hard to breathe. I cannot see the happy blue sky and yellow sun. Everything looks grey and stinks.

Sometimes life feels like that.

What should I do then?

Pray.

Trust that God is still God.

And do the next thing.

Perhaps you have heard of Elisabeth Elliot? I learned the concept of “do the next thing” from listening to her teaching. (Here is a link to her teaching)

Elisabeth Elliot was a missionary. Not long into her time of ministry, her husband, Jim Elliot, was murdered by the very people they had been trying to reach in love.

Elisabeth was left in a foreign country with a young baby. Later she was able to befriend and minister to the very people who killed her husband.

Many years later, Elisabeth remarried only to watch her new husband get sick and die.

Elizabeth has written many books, my favourite being “Through Gates of Splendor”.

Elisabeth Elliot once wrote:

“‘Do the next thing.’ I don’t know any simpler formula for peace, for relief from stress and anxiety than that very practical, very down-to-earth word of wisdom. Do the next thing. That has gotten me through more agonies than anything else I could recommend.” ― Elisabeth Elliot, Suffering Is Never for Nothing

This sounds like a wise principle, but where do we see it in the Bible?

I’m glad you asked.

Joseph is one example of this mindset being lived out.

What did he do when his brothers sold him into slavery? Did he protest and fight against those around him? No. He did the next thing.

When he was thrown into prison unjustly, did he sit in the corner pouting? No. He did the next thing.

As a foreign slave turned prisoner turned second-in-command over the entire country, did Joseph become paralyzed by the grandness of it all? No. He did the next thing.

I like Psalm 37:34a: “Wait for the Lord and keep His way…” (NASB)

Joseph was waiting for God’s deliverance, but in the meantime, he lived according to God’s ways while he did one next thing after another.

The next time I find my life smothered in smoke, may I remain diligent to do the next thing while I wait for the smoke to clear.

 

I set my baby on her feet. “There, you’ve got your pyjamas on. Now it’s time for your sleep sack.”

I fetch her sleep sack – a wearable blanket to keep her warm at night.

She begins to fuss.

Scooping her up I slide her arms into the sleep sack then do up the zipper.

“I know you don’t like going to bed, but you’re tired and it’s nighttime.”

Her fussing increases and switches to a repeated word. “Bear Bear. Bear Bear. Bear Bear.”

I glance around the room. “I don’t know where Bear Bear is, but we can go find him.”

My baby in my arms, we hunt for her favourite teddy bear.

At length we find him in the kitchen.

“There’s Bear Bear.”

I lower her so she can pick up the teddy bear.

She does, clutching him to herself and relaxing. “Bear Bear.”

I cuddle her close. “You like Bear Bear a lot.”

A few minutes later, I place her in her crib. She clings to her teddy bear and cries.

“Goodnight.” I say, “Have a good sleep.”

I close the door and fetch the baby monitor.

Watching the video feed on the little screen, I observe her hugging the bear close. When she stops crying and lies down, she still has the bear securely in her grip.

She croons, “Bear Bear,” before falling asleep.

The following morning, when I go to lift my baby out of her crib, her first words are not a greeting for me. No, something else is on her mind.

“Bear Bear. Bear Bear.”

I lower her back into the crib so she can grab the teddy bear whom she had let go of at some point during the night.

She hugs him close. “Ahh… Bear Bear.”

Now she’s ready to begin her day.

When I set her down in the living room to play, she drops her bear on the floor and reaches for a ball.

That’s where Bear Bear is likely to spend most of his morning until naptime when she seeks him out again.

Recently, observing my baby’s interaction with her teddy bear left me pondering the question “Is Jesus my teddy bear?”

Let me explain.

Bear Bear is one of my daughter’s favorite toys. His name is one of the few words she can say. He is her lovey – the toy she seeks out for comfort at bedtime.

Do I seek God when I need comfort?

When trouble comes (such as bedtime for my baby) do I run to Jesus for help?

If so, good.

Seeking God in times of trouble is good and right. He is the One who is almighty and in control. Certainly I should seek Him when I need comfort.

As the Psalmist writes, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in You. In God, whose word I praise – in God I trust and am not afraid” (Psalm 56:3-4a NIV).

The next question is: How do I treat God when things are good?

Do I follow my baby’s example of leaving her teddy bear abandoned on the floor?

Her teddy bear could get stepped on or lost, but she is heedless of these risks. She forgets about Bear Bear until the next crisis comes.

Do I forget about God when life is going well? Does He disappear from my thoughts and my life as soon as trouble fades?

Stating that my baby never plays with her bear except at bedtime is an overstatement.

Occasionally she spots him laying haphazardly on the floor and is reminded of her great affection for him. She will toddle over to him and pick him up to play for a few minutes until the next toy catches her fancy.

Also, if someone happens to mention “teddy bear” she will be reminded of her precious “Bear Bear” and will desire to have him. She will look for him and cry if she cannot find him.

What about me? When life is good, do I only think about God if someone mentions Him or if I stumble across some other reminder of Him?

I hope I treat God better than that.

God doesn’t want to just be my rescue when trouble comes.

Don’t get me wrong. It is good to run to Him when need arises. Yet God wants to be so much more than that to me. God wants to be at the centre of my life whether my days are happy or troubled.

God wants me to acknowledge Him in all my ways (Proverbs 3:6). God wants everything I do to be done for Him (Colossians 3:23). He wants me to always be giving thanks to Him (Ephesians 5:20).

That sounds like a lot more than only seeking Jesus when the going gets hard.

This week, may Jesus be more than just my teddy bear. May I not forget Him when the going is easy, but rather, may I walk closely with Him now and always.

May my prayer be the words of the song, Be The Centre:

[Jesus], be the fire in my heart.
Be the wind in these sails.
Be the reason that I live.

Toddler learning to walk behind title: Learning to Walk by Faith

 

The Bible tells us that we are to walk by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7). Do Christians instantly master walking by faith the moment they meet Jesus, or is it a process?

I’ve been watching my baby learn to walk recently. It’s been quite intriguing. Let me tell you what I mean.

—*—

“Can you do it? Can you walk to Mommy?”

Squatting across from my baby, I coax her to take a step. My husband holds her just out of my arm’s reach.

Will this be the moment?

I look at my husband. “Do you think she can do it?”

She’s been doing all the right things. She loves strolling the hallway holding my fingers. Recently she’s gained confidence in holding onto only one finger. She’s been getting so much more stable. Surely she can do it. Surely this will be the moment.

“Come on, girl. You can do it. Come to Mama.”

Clinging to her dad’s hand, my little one steps toward me as far as she can.

I shift back leaving a foot-long gap.

“Come on. You gotta let go to walk to Mama.”

But that’s scary. She doesn’t want to let go. She might fall.

She whines a little, reaching for me, but not wanting to let go.

Then she does it. She lets go and takes two steps before plunging headfirst toward me.

I catch her in time.

We cheer. She beams her biggest smile.

I turn her around.

“Now walk to Daddy. You can do it.”

She takes a deep breath.

Clinging to my finger, she walks to the very edge of my reach.

Then she does it. She lets go, takes two steps, and plunges headfirst toward her daddy.

He catches her.

We celebrate again.

My baby is walking! How exciting is that?!

—*—

The next few days I watched for her to initiate walking on her own. She didn’t.

I was surprised. I thought a baby who could walk would, well, walk.

It wasn’t until, a couple of evenings later, when my husband and I sat across the living room from each other urging her to walk between us that she walked by herself again.

This time, she went a little farther. Still, she only dared walk if one of us was there to catch her.

So many people had told me that as soon as she learned to walk she’d be running around with me chasing behind.

I subconsciously concluded that as soon as she took those first steps, it would be as though a light turned on and then within hours, or maybe minutes, she would be toddling all over. I was wrong.

For the first week, she could barely take more than 3 steps before toppling headlong. Gradually, with practice, she increased the number of steps she could take.

For what seemed a long time, she only walked if a person or soft couch was her destination – something safe to catch her fall.

It was more than two weeks after those first steps before she dared venture into the middle of the room by herself where she immediately plopped down to play with a toy.

It has been fun watching her ability and confidence grow. Both are needed to walk well.

Likewise, learning to walk by faith is a process. It does not happen overnight. To start, I must take those terrifying first steps. Then I must practice taking just a few unsteady steps again and again.

Some days I might get discouraged when I notice I am walking by sight rather than by faith. I must not let that trap me in defeat. With God’s help, I must get back up and try to walk by faith again.

Gradually my ability and confidence will increase as I place my confidence not in myself, but in my God. (2 Corinthians 3:4-5)

It takes time and persistent practice to grow in my ability to walk by faith. If my baby gave up practicing walking and simply crawled everywhere, she would never learn to walk.

I must allow myself to try again even when I fall and get a bump.

Today, may I not give up, but rather, with God’s help, may I be persistent in practicing walking by faith.