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An Advent Message of Hope

I recently read a story that captured my imagination and emotions. I thought I would share it with you here as an advent message of faith, hope and love.

Two twenty-one-year-old art students were living the dream in a loft in Brooklyn, studying art and basking in the glow of young love. They’d met at a party only nine months before, and had what is only described as, “a moment.” The moment was more than just a thing, it was the thing.

One day on her way to class, Emilie was involved in a traffic accident—she was on her bike and hit by a huge truck. She was then in ICU, clinging to life. Alan called Emilie’s parents to hurry to the city, where all three of them kept vigil around Emilie’s bed, her parents splitting the daytime hours and Alan staying every night, all night long.

For weeks they waited for her to recover, with few signs of hope. Finally, the doctors deemed Emilie medically stable but completely unresponsive. Her parents began to make arrangements to move her to a nursing home in their hometown, where she would likely live the rest of her life.

But Alan thought there was hope—in the middle of what seemed to be complete desolation. He insisted, “She’s in there; she just can’t get out.”  “You have to give her a chance, you have to give her a chance,” he begged. Alan remembered reading something in a Helen Keller biography. In a desperate attempt to prove to her parents and the doctors that she could recover, he traced out on her arm the words “I love you.” She immediately awoke and responded.

The birth of Jesus Christ is God writing on the arm of desolate humankind “I love you!”  May we all awake to the faith of this hope.

Merry Christmas


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I’ve been thinking …
The Drew family was making the short drive from their house to their neighborhood pool. Leigh Anna, the mom, was driving so slowly that the automatic door locks did not engage. Noah, her young son, opened the door and fell out. She felt a bump, as if she had driven over a speed bump, and braked to a quick stop.  Her husband, Ben, jumped out of the car and found Noah on the pavement. “He’s alive!”  Ben yelled and placed him on the seat. Noah’s legs were covered in blood, and he was shaking violently. Leigh Anna hurried over to the passenger’s seat and held Noah on her lap as Ben drove to the ER.
Incredibly, the tests showed no broken bones. A five-thousand-pound vehicle had run over his legs, yet little Noah had nothing but cuts and bruises to show for it.
Later that night Leigh Anna dropped to her knees and thanked God for sparing her son. She then stretched out on the bed next to him. He was asleep; at least she thought he was. As she was lying beside him in the dark, he said, “Mama, Jesus catched me.”
She said, “He did?”
Noah replied, “I told Jesus thank you, and he said you’re very welcome.”
The next day he gave some details. “Mama, Jesus has brown hands.  He catched me like this.” He held his arms outstretched, cupping his little hands. The next day he told her that Jesus had brown hair. When she asked him for more information, He said, “That’s all.” In a very nonchalant manner. But when he said his prayers that night, he said, “Thank you Jesus for catching me.”
Pressure to meet the deadline at work…
Financial pressures…
Children’s schedules…
A recent diagnosis…
Relationship tensions…
Geopolitics got you down…
Market volatility…
Stop by during lent to explore what freedom means in a time when it feels like we have been run over by a five-thousand-pound vehicle. God delights in freedom. God likes to forgive more than we like to mess things up. Through the life of Moses and the Exodus narrative, take a journey to freedom with us in a world that is constantly closing in on us…

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