hope

A Sheep’s Reason to Embrace Advent

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Embracing the Gift of Advent: A Time to Draw Near

Dear friend, as the days grow shorter and the world around us twinkles with holiday lights, I want to invite you into something truly special—observing Advent. It’s more than just a countdown to Christmas; it’s a gentle whisper from God, calling us to pause, reflect, and prepare our hearts for the miracle of Jesus’ birth. In my own life, Advent has become a cherished rhythm, a way to step out of the hustle and find that quiet space where God’s presence feels so close. Let me share with you why I believe we should embrace this season, not out of obligation, but out of love for the One who came to us as a baby in a manger.

First, Advent reminds us of the profound story of God’s love breaking into our world. Think about it: over 2,000 years ago, the prophets foretold a Savior, and in the fullness of time, Jesus arrived. As Isaiah 9:6 says, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Observing Advent helps us relive that anticipation, much like Mary and Joseph did on their journey to Bethlehem. It’s a chance to meditate on Scripture, light candles each week, and let the wonder of the Incarnation sink deep into our souls. In a world that rushes straight to the festivities, Advent says, “Slow down, my child—savor the promise fulfilled.”

But it’s not just about looking back; Advent also turns our eyes forward to Christ’s return. Jesus promised He’d come again, and this season stirs that holy longing in us. It’s like waiting for a dear friend to arrive after a long absence—our hearts ache with hope. The four weeks of Advent, themed around hope, peace, joy, and love, guide us to cultivate these virtues in our daily lives. Maybe you’ve felt the weight of uncertainty this year; Advent offers a balm, reminding us that Jesus is the Light who pierces every darkness. As we light the Advent wreath or read devotional passages, we’re not just marking time—we’re aligning our spirits with God’s eternal plan, preparing room in our hearts for Him anew.

On a personal note, I did not grow up in a religious tradition that celebrated Advent. I found it here in my later years. The Christmas season my favorite season for preaching and teaching God’s Word, sometimes felt overwhelming. Work deadlines, family stresses, the usual chaos. But committing to using Advent with my family, lighting a candle each week as we looked at Bible verses together, both about Christ’s first Incarnation and His coming return brought such peace with it that I was hooked. It wasn’t about perfection; it was about presence. It helped us to center our lives, reflecting on the true reason for the season. Observing Advent helped me see Christmas not as an event, but as an encounter with the living God. And friend, that’s available to you too. Whether you’re new to this or returning after years away, it’s never too late to start. Perhaps begin with a small step: find an Advent calendar with Scriptures, or join an online community sharing reflections. Let it be a warm embrace from the Father, drawing you closer.

As we journey through these weeks, may your heart overflow with the joy of expectation. Let’s pray together: Heavenly Father, thank You for the gift of Advent, a season to remember Your Son’s humble arrival and to yearn for His glorious return. Help us to observe it with open hearts, finding hope in Your promises, peace in Your presence, joy in Your salvation, and love in Your endless grace. Draw us nearer to You, Lord, and let this time transform us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

With warmth and blessings,
Your friend in Christ

A Sheep’s Journey Through Psalms -47

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Worship Even Through Tough Times: A Devotion on Psalm 47

As I sit with Psalm 47, I’m struck by its call to exuberant praise. “Clap your hands, all you nations; shout to God with cries of joy” (v. 1). It’s a vivid picture of unrestrained worship, and it hits me personally. There are days when life feels heavy—bills pile up, work stresses mount, and the world’s chaos seems relentless. Yet, this psalm reminds me that God is still on His throne, reigning as the “great King over all the earth” (v. 2). That truth pulls me out of my own head and into His presence.

From a Christian perspective, Psalm 47 is a powerful declaration of God’s sovereignty. The psalmist exalts God not just as a local deity but as the ruler over all nations (v. 8). This speaks to me deeply in a world that often feels like it’s spinning out of control. Political divisions, moral decline, and global unrest can make it seem like no one’s in charge. But God is. He “reigns over the nations; God is seated on his holy throne” (v. 8). This isn’t just poetic—it’s a bedrock truth. God’s authority doesn’t bend to human systems or cultural shifts. He is unchanging, and His rule is absolute.

I find verse 5 particularly moving: “God has ascended amid shouts of joy, the Lord amid the sounding of trumpets.” It makes me think of Jesus’ ascension, returning to the Father after His victory over sin and death. As a believer, I’m reminded that my Savior isn’t just a historical figure—He’s the exalted King, reigning now and forever. This fuels my hope. No matter what I face, I belong to a kingdom that cannot be shaken.

The psalm also calls me to action. Worship isn’t passive; it’s clapping, shouting, singing (v. 6). It’s a choice to lift my eyes above my circumstances and praise God for who He is. I’ve found that when I do this—whether through a hymn in church or a quiet moment of gratitude at home—my perspective shifts. The problems don’t always disappear, but they lose their grip on my heart.

For us as Christians, Psalm 47 is a reminder to live with confidence in God’s sovereignty. In a culture that often mocks faith or pressures us to compromise, we can stand firm, knowing our God is over all. Let’s worship Him boldly, trust His rule, and share His truth with a world that desperately needs it.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, You are the great King over all the earth. Help me to praise You with joy, even in tough times. Anchor my heart in Your unchanging rule, and give me courage to live for You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

A Sheep’s Journey Through Psalms -38

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A Devotional on Psalm 38: A Cry from the Heart

As I sit with Psalm 38, I feel the weight of David’s words pressing into my soul. His raw honesty, his desperate plea for God’s mercy, resonates deeply. “My whole body is sick,” he cries, “because of my sin” (v. 3). I’ve been there—haven’t you?—when the burden of my mistakes feels like a physical ache, when guilt and shame threaten to drown out hope. David’s words remind me that I’m not alone in this struggle, and from a Christian perspective, they point me toward the healing grace of Christ, a truth echoed by the early church fathers.

David describes a soul overwhelmed: “My guilt has overwhelmed me like a burden too heavy to bear” (v. 4). I can almost see him, head bowed, heart heavy, confessing not just to God but to himself that his sin has consequences. St. Augustine, in his Confessions, knew this weight well. He wrote, “The punishment of every disordered mind is its own disorder.” Sin doesn’t just separate us from God; it fractures our inner peace, leaving us restless until we return to Him. Like David, Augustine learned that only in confessing our brokenness do we open the door to God’s restoration.

Yet, what strikes me about Psalm 38 is not just the despair but the audacity of David’s hope. Even as he laments, “My wounds fester and are loathsome” (v. 5), he pleads, “Do not forsake me, O Lord; O my God, be not far from me” (v. 21). This is no casual prayer—it’s a cry from the depths, a refusal to let go of God’s presence. Early church father Gregory of Nyssa saw this kind of prayer as a journey toward God: “The soul that looks steadfastly to God is raised above the changes and chances of this mortal life.” David’s plea is not just for relief but for nearness to God, a reminder that even in our lowest moments, we can seek the One who never abandons us.

As Christians, we read Psalm 38 through the lens of the cross. David’s cry for mercy finds its ultimate answer in Jesus, who bore our sins and carried our sorrows (Isaiah 53:4). When I feel the sting of my own failures, I’m reminded of St. John Chrysostom’s words: “The Cross is the remedy for all our ills.” Christ’s sacrifice doesn’t erase the reality of our sin’s consequences, but it transforms them, offering forgiveness and the promise of renewal. David didn’t know the full story of redemption we now see, but his faith in God’s mercy foreshadows the hope we have in Jesus.

So, what do I take from Psalm 38 today? It’s okay to feel the weight of my sin, to name it honestly before God as David did. But I can’t stay there. Like David, I’m called to lift my eyes to the Lord, to trust that He hears my cry and is near. “Come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior” (v. 22). This is my prayer, and it’s yours too. Let’s bring our brokenness to the foot of the cross, where Christ’s love meets us, heals us, and sets us free.

Reflection: What burdens are you carrying today? Take a moment to lay them before God in prayer, trusting in His mercy. How might Christ’s grace reshape the way you see your struggles?

Prayer: Lord, my heart is heavy with my own failings, but I trust in Your unfailing love. Draw near to me, as You did to David, and heal me through the grace of Your Son, Jesus. Amen.

A Sheep’s Journey Through Psalms -33

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A Devotion on Psalm 33: A Song of the Heart

Imagine standing on a windswept hill at dawn, the sky ablaze with hues of amber and rose, as if God Himself is painting the heavens with a brush dipped in glory. The world feels alive—grasses swaying like a choir, birds weaving melodies into the air, and the distant rumble of the sea echoing like a heartbeat. This is the scene Psalm 33 invites us into: a vibrant call to worship, a reminder that the Creator’s handiwork surrounds us, and His steadfast love fills every corner of our lives.

“Sing joyfully to the Lord, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him” (Psalm 33:1). I picture myself here, not just reading these words but feeling them. My heart, sometimes heavy with worries—bills piling up, relationships fraying, or the quiet ache of uncertainty—finds a spark of joy in this command. It’s as if God is saying, “Lift your eyes, my child. Look at the world I’ve made. Let it teach you to sing.” So, I imagine picking up a guitar, my fingers fumbling over the strings, offering a shaky but earnest song to the One who never falters.

The psalmist goes on: “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth” (v. 6). I think of the nights I’ve stood under a canopy of stars, each one a pinpoint of light, like a promise God whispered into the dark. Those stars weren’t just flung into place; they were spoken into being. And if God’s word can craft galaxies, surely it can speak peace into my chaos. I recall a moment last year when anxiety gripped me—my job felt unsteady, my plans unclear. Yet, reading this, I’m reminded that the same God who breathed out constellations knows my name and holds my future.

“For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm” (v. 9). This verse feels like a rock under my feet. I see a stormy sea, waves crashing like doubts, threatening to pull me under. But God’s command is stronger than the storm. I think of times I’ve felt unsteady—when a friend’s betrayal stung or when grief left me hollow. Yet, God’s word stands firm, a lighthouse cutting through the fog, guiding me back to hope.

The psalm shifts to God’s sovereignty: “The Lord foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever” (vv. 10–11). I imagine a grand chessboard, where human schemes move like pawns, ambitious but fragile. God, the master player, sees every move before it’s made. I confess, I’ve made my own plans—career goals, dreams of a perfect life—only to watch them unravel. Yet, I’m learning to trust His plans instead. His plans, unlike mine, don’t waver.

And then, the heartbeat of the psalm: “But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love” (v. 18). I picture God’s eyes, warm and steady, like a father watching his child take their first steps. He sees me—not just my successes but my stumbles, my quiet tears, my unspoken fears. His unfailing love feels like a river, steady and deep, carrying me through dry seasons. I remember a night of prayer, feeling alone, yet sensing His presence like a warm hand on my shoulder, whispering, “I’m here.”

As the psalm closes, it’s a prayer: “May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you” (v. 22). I make this my prayer today, standing on that hill in my mind, the wind carrying my words heavenward. I see my life—imperfect, messy, but held by a God who paints skies and calms seas. I choose to hope, to sing, to trust.

Reflection:

Take a moment to step outside or look out a window. Notice one piece of creation—a tree, a cloud, a star. Let it remind you of God’s power and love. Write or speak a one-sentence prayer, offering your own song of trust to Him.

Grief and the Christian Faith

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Grief is an inescapable reality in a fallen world. The sting of loss — whether through broken relationships, death or shattered dreams — cuts deeply into the human soul. Yet, for the Christian, grief is not a solitary or hopeless journey. It is a journey walked under the sovereign hand of God, illuminated by the promises of Scripture< and sustained by the hope of Christ’s victory over sin and death.

The Bible does not shy away from the rawness of grief. From the anguished cries of Job (Job 3:11) to David’s lament over his fallen son (2 Samuel 18:33), Scripture acknowledges that sorrow is a natural response to loss. The Christian perspective begins with the foundational truth of the Fall: sin has fractured God’s good creation, bringing death and decay into the world (Genesis 3:17-19, Romans 5:12). Grief, then, 7is not an anomaly but a consequence of living in a world marred by sin. It is a reminder that things are not as they were meant to be.

Yet, this recognition does not leave us in despair. The Christian faith emphasizes that even in this brokenness, God remains sovereign. Nothing, not even the deepest pain, falls outside His Divine Purpose. In grief, we are invited to trust that God is working, even when His ways are inscrutable.

For the believer in Christ, grief is not borne alone. Psalm 34:18 assures us, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” This promise anchors the Christian’s understanding of suffering: God does not abandon His people in their sorrow but draws near to them. Jesus Himself, the Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53:3) entered into human suffering, wept at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:35) and bore our griefs on the cross (Isaish 53:4). In Christ, we find a High Priest who sympathizes with our weakness (Hebrews 4:15), offering comfort that is both divine and deeply personal.

Christian theology underscores that this comfort is not mere sentiment, but a reality rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness. He has promised never to leave or forsake his people (Deuteronomy 31:6, Hebrews 13:5). Even in the darkest valley, the Christian can echo David’s confidence: “You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).

While grief is real, it is not the final word. The Christian faith clings tenaciously to the hope of the resurrection and the making of a new Earth where death, sorrow and suffering will be no more. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 4:13 that believers “do not grieve as others who have no hope.” This does not mean that Christians avoid tears or suppress sorrow — Jesus Himself wept — but that their grief is tempered by the certainty of Christ’s triumph over death. Because Jesus rose from the grave, those who are united to Him by faith will also rise (1 Corinthians 15:20-22). Death has been defeated, and the day is coming when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes” (Revelation 21:4) when the new heavens and earth are created for us.

This hope reshapes how we mourn. Loss is temporary; reunion is eternal. For the Christian, grieving is an act of waiting — waiting until the fulfillment of God’s promises will come to pass. The promises of removing the curse of sin and restoring creation to how it should be.

Grieving as a Christian involves both lament and trust. Lament is not a sign of weak faith, but a biblical response to pain. The Psalms are filled with cries of anguish – “How long O Lord?” (Psalm 13:1) – that model honest wrestling before God. We are free to pour out our hearts, knowing that He hears and cares. At the same time, trust in God’s sovereignty and goodness steadies us. Romans 8:28 assures us that “for those who love God all things work together for good.” This does not erase pain but reframes it within God’s redemptive plan.

Practically this might mean weeping over a loved one’s death while clinging to the promise of eternal life. It might mean wrestling with unanswered questions while resting in the truth that God’s wisdom surpasses our own (Isaiah 55:8-9). It is a posture of humility, acknowledging our limits and God’s infinite goodness.

Finally, the Christian faith emphasizes that grief is not meant to be endured alone. The church, as the body of Christ, is called to “weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). Fellowship with other believers provides tangible support – prayers, meals or simply a listening ear. Moreover, God has given us the means of grace – Scripture, prayer and the sacraments – to sustain us in sorrow. The Word reminds us of God’s promises, prayer draws us into His presence, and Communion offers a foretaste of the heavenly banquet where all tears will cease.

Grieving as a Christian is a paradox. It is sorrow mingled with hope; lament tempered by trust. We mourn deeply because we love deeply, yet we lift our eyes to the One who hold all things in His hands. In the end, our grief is not the end. Christ is risen, God is Sovereign, and the day of restoration draws near. Until then, we grieve as those who belong to Him, resting in His unfailing love and looking forward to the dawn when mourning will give way to everlasting joy.

Burning Bridges Instead of Reaching Out

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There are many church signs with cute sayings. There are many with profound sayings, some with ones that are witty and some that show great creativity. Then there are those that are offensive or just downright rude, like the one I saw while taking my daughter to school this week.

What was on the sign? “If Christmas offends you than go to Thailand for 30 days. They don’t like it there either. Grow up or shut up.” I don’t really know why poor Thailand was singled out, as far as I know they have never gone out of their way to ruin anyone’s Christmas in south Georgia, but what bothers me is the attitude portrayed in the sign from a church  with the word “grace” in their name.

The unsaved are not the enemy. They are our mission. To unnecessarily offend them makes it ten times as hard to witness to them of God’s love. Christmas is God showing love to man by coming down and becoming one of us. It was for dirty, sinful, lost mankind that He came, not for the smug religious crowd. As a minister, this sign offends me. It also offends the unchurched in our community.

Wouldn’t it be better to hold a community party to celebrate Jesus’ birth? Maybe they could be proactive and do a food drive or help gather presents for the poor that would show God’s love in action instead of belittling those who have not yet experienced the grace of God. Come on church, live up to your name — show grace, the giving of a gift to someone undeserving of it this holiday season instead of being snarky and strident.  Telling a large segment of your community to “Grow up or shut up” simply shows them how childish and immature you are. Why would they come to your church for answers when their life falls apart?

Lost people act lost because they are spiritually blind and without hope. They are spiritually dead and incapable of acting any other way than what they do. So-called Christians acting the way this church did just shows stupidity. I know that is harsh but it is true. The sign may play well to the frozen chosen inside her walls but it embarrasses those of us going out and meeting people in the marketplace and introducing them to a Jesus who offers grace, mercy and new life. I truly wish that this church would grow up and until that happens, please – shut up so the rest of us can give a message of hope to our town. It desperately needs it.

The Free Will of God

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We have had many people tell us how proud of us they are that we became adoptive parents. There are so many children in the foster care system that need a good, loving, Christian home to be raised in that it is a shameful reminder that the Christian church has largely failed to address this issue. Be that as it may, I have yet to run into anyone who has chastised our family for only adopting one child when there are so many at risk. We certainly could not have adopted all the children in our state, much less the country or the world, but we could have, possibly, adopted at least one more. Does this make us horrible people, to only adopt one? Does this make us sinful, when it was in our power to affect, at least theoretically, one more life? Are we to be commended because, by our free choice, we adopted one or castigated because of our free choice not to adopt more than one?

Why am I asking these questions? Because many people object to the thought of God adopting some people to become members of His family and not everyone. The doctrine is called election and the Bible speaks of God electing some to salvation and not electing others, leaving them to their fate. Is God to be commended for saving some people, by His own free will, from an eternity without Him or is He to be castigated for not saving more or all? Your answer tells what you truly think of God — a wonderful Being that did not have to save anyone yet did or a horrible monster who didn’t save all. Or, perhaps, a willing but unable Deity who desires salvation for mankind but cannot effectively bring it about and depends on us to do what He can’t. There really isn’t any other way to look at it.

The same people who champion the freedom of the human will to accept or reject God do not seem to be willing to give God the free will to accept or reject man. The double standard screams out. People want the freedom to choose but not to give God the same right. It is not as if our Creator owes us anything. He is not beholden to us, we are to Him because all we are is His. In Him we live, breathe and have our existence. We are His creation, for His glory, a glory He will not share with any other.

I get amused at those who want the freedom to choose salvation but the guarantee that the choice cannot be taken back. A salvation dependent on the choice of man but secured by the power of the Savior. I believe in a salvation dependent on a powerful Savior who can and will keep my soul secure. A salvation given by grace because God decided to adopt me into His family like I adopted a little girl into mine. Not because of anything she had done or might possibly do but because I was filled with love toward her. God saved me not because of anything I did or might possibly do for Him but by His love and grace. My hope is built on nothing less than the grace of God my Savior, secured by the blood and righteousness of Jesus and the sealing of my spirit by the Holy Spirit.

Hymn Devotions Day 13 – Amazing Grace

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DAY 13 –  AMAZING GRACE

               I find it ironic that almost everyone sings a version of Amazing Grace. Just perusing music sites, it seems every star has released a version of this song at one time or another, even though most of those people have never experienced God’s saving grace.

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear.

To fear God is the beginning of wisdom. Fear of His just punishment for sin. When I reflected on John 3:17-18, it made John 3:16 come alive. I was already condemned and facing eternal punishment.

And grace my fears relieved.

God’s grace, given to me when I turned my life over to His Son’s Lordship, granted to me eternal life. There is now no condemnation for I am safely in the family of God. So precious, that grace given the hour, the very second I first believed.

Upon hearing the call of God, our Shepherd, here in this world, we will experience His reality face to face in the next. His word, His promises, secures our hope for an eternity with Him in heaven.

Unless a person has experienced God’s saving grace, they really have no idea what this song is about. Far from just being a good hymn, it hammers home to us that our only hope is to be found in Christ alone.

            Lord, Your grace is totally amazing. That You could extend grace and mercy to us just completely overwhelms me. You, the perfect, holy Creator of the Universe, extending grace to one such as myself, selfish, arrogant, sinful is simply … amazing.

            Thank you for saving me by Your grace and extending to me the faith necessary to believe. 

AMAZING GRACE by John Newton

Amazing grace how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost but now am found

Was blind but now I see

 

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear

And grace my fears relieved

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed

 

Through many dangers, toils and snares

I have already come

‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far

And grace will lead me home

 

The Lord has promised good to me

His word my hope secures

He will my shield and portion be

As long as life endures

 

Yea when this flesh and heart shall fail

And mortal life shall cease

I shall possess within the veil

A life of joy and peace

 

The world shall soon dissolve like snow

The sun refuse to shine

But God who called me here below

Shall be forever mine

 

When we’ve been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

Than when we’ve first begun