The weekend after Thanksgiving my husband pulled down our "four boxes of Christmas" from the garage shelf. Storage is limited in our house, so we have gone a bit minimal when it comes to Christmas decor. We also have a live tree. I'd like to tell you it's because we like the look and smell of live trees (and this may be true for everyone else in my family), but my main reason is that we don't have to store it January through November. Plus, we save it for kindling in our outdoor fireplace; it burns like flash paper (which is a little unsettling, I must say). So over the years we have whittled Christmas down to four boxes. One box holds the Nativity set. One box holds the Carollers. One box holds the ornaments. And the last box holds the lights and the tree skirt. We untangle the colored lights for the tree (yes, we are a colored light family), and then we untangle the white lights for the porch. They are the worst. But the lights are also magic.

Every Advent, our church in Pittsburgh held an outreach for the children and families in the community to explain the real meaning of Christmas. Up to 7,000 children and adults came each year during the four days we called “The Joy of Sharing Christmas.” Tour guides led groups of 25-35 through a series of rooms where live actors in costume would share the REAL Christmas story. So what does the real Christmas story look like?

The lights are up, the sparkly ads are on TV, the Christmas carols are playing. YES! The holiday season is here! The Most Wonderful Time of Year, Jingle Bells and Oh What Fun, Holly Jolly Christmas, and you know so many songs that tout the happiness of the season and the lightness and brightness of it all… When I was about 10 years old, my mom took me to the eye doctor. I thought it was a waste of her time, energy, and money, all of which were hard to come by with a husband, 7 children and a full-time job. My sight was fine, or so I thought! Well, if you have known me for any time at all, you know I wear glasses, and have since that day! And, to my surprise, with glasses and the prescription lenses, everything was sharper, crisper, clearer and I could see so much further! My world expanded into one I had not ever known!

My daughter and I both overslept this morning. That was the direct result of having stayed up late watching a cheesy movie together. Holiday weeks are wonderful. We both padded around the kitchen making our morning drinks: mine a chai latte with milk, hers the same but with almond milk. She mused, "I feel like everything in my life is going well. School is going well. My running is going well. My friendships are great. I worry that something bad will happen, that God will take it away to show me that I should be dependent on Him or something." "God doesn't operate like that," I mumbled as I poured milk in my mug. Did I mention I am not a morning person? I do not have all my words in the morning. "Yes, but how do you know that?" "Because He is a good father. He delights to give good gifts to His children. All we need to do is remember to say thank you." It sounds so easy, right? Just say thank you. So how come we rarely do it?

Advent draws us closer and closer into the greatest story ever. It’s a story told and retold in thousands of ways, for literally thousands of years. And with all the ways of telling the tale, it’s critical we get it right. Bishop Ivan Sikha has built a large ministry in India, and elsewhere, using storytelling. He uses 20 plus stories from the Bible. When he trains his storytellers in telling the stories, he shares them orally and then asks the listeners to repeat them. When they add or delete part of the story, Ivan has them do it again, and again, until it is correct. Thousands have come to know Jesus Christ through these stories. And his ministry in India continues to flourish.

I have long wanted to be a person who wakes up in the early morning to start the day with productivity. I can see it now: While I drink my morning cup of chai, I would have my quiet time with God. I would read the entire Bible in a year, have focused prayer time where my thoughts don’t wander, and keep a prayer journal. Since I still have time in the morning before my kids are up, I would leave the house for 30-60 minutes of aerobic activity. Who knows? Maybe I am training for a half marathon. I would come back home revived, refreshed, and ready to greet the day (after a nutritious breakfast, of course). Can you tell this is a fantasy?

"I’m fine. Thank you.” Translation: “I do not need any help.” In the American culture which encourages the value of independence, how reluctant we often are to accept help from others. It feels like a sign of weakness or dependence. And yet for Christians, this runs counter to the teachings of Jesus and Paul that we are created for community, with openness, vulnerability, and mutual support. “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15). “Carry each other's burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2) As a pastor, it felt good to help others carry their burdens. I wanted to be a strong leader. But seeking help for myself seemed uncomfortable. It was like a sign of weakness.

One way to know if you are following Jesus or not is to check your heart. By that I mean, is there a longing there for something more?

A young husband I shall call John, with a wife and two young sons, was just diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer. It was inoperable, terminal, and he was given just six months at best to live. In spite of growing up in the church where his parents and wife were still active, he became indifferent about his faith in God. That was until he received this diagnosis and John became very angry with Him!

Have you ever driven I-87 through New York? It’s called the Adirondack Northway, and, as highways go, its views are spectacular. The summer after my junior year I worked as a nanny for a family with three children. I even traveled with them to their summer home in the Adirondacks. They drove with the older kids in the first car, and I drove behind them in their second car, with a sleeping preschooler in the back and a chocolate lab as my copilot. I was nervous about caravaning to the Adirondacks. Would I lose them along the way? I purposely drove in silence (no music!) so I could concentrate. As I drove along the Adirondack Northway, my thoughts were hardly quiet. Huge peaks rose on either side of the highway. Each curve in the road afforded a new, awe-inspiring vista. I found myself whispering, “Oh wow,” to no one in particular. And then I found myself speaking to someone...when I realized he was speaking to me.