Depending on where you live and what faith you practice, Good Friday—also called Great or Holy Friday—may mean fasting, afternoon church services, a street procession or time spent in reflection and contemplation.
At Guideposts, Good Friday is a day of prayer. For the past 10 weeks, prayer requests have been collected by mail and phone, and online. On April 6, volunteers worldwide will be praying for each and every one of those requests.
While the Guideposts Good Friday Day of Prayer (GFDOP) marks its 42nd anniversary, each event is unique.
“Good Friday is a good day to offer yourself to others as Jesus did and believe that God can make the impossible, possible,” says OurPrayer manager Peola Hicks. “And I think that as the economy rebounds, we still cannot take anything for granted. People still need God’s power released through prayer.”
This year there will be one chapel service that will begin at 10am to accommodate all of our GFDOP visitors. Visitors will also be able to tour our new museum featuring Dr. Peale memorabilia.
Rev. Hicks says that every year she feels humbled by the prayer requests and the people who volunteer to pray, like Patti Hoppe who has been writing prayers on the web for over 2 years.
“I know that God hears our prayers and am blessed to pray with and for the many requests I read each day” said Patti via Facebook. “It’s humbling and I’m so grateful to be a part of the OurPrayer family. It’s drawing me closer to Him as I lift up each request and I spend more time with Him. Thank you for allowing me to be a volunteer.”
Flag Day is one of those holidays that often gets lost. Few of us get vacation days from work or school. You don’t find a lot of parades for Flag Day or festivals. Sometimes I forget how important the flag is until some national tragedy occurs and I see it flown at half-mast.
When I was a boy we had a flag pole in front of our house and on certain holidays–like Flag Day–we raised and lowered the flag. My dad, a submarine vet of World War II, was very particular about our treatment of the flag.
“It should never touch the ground,” he said. When we lowered it, one kid held up the bottom of the flag while another unclipped it from the line. When we folded it we stretched it above the grass, flipping it back and forth so that it would make a tight triangle.
“It’ll burn if it touches the ground,” Dad said.
Did I really believe the ground would burn it? I don’t think so. It’s not like there were hot coals down there, but what Dad was trying to instill in us was respect for an object, not for the object itself but what it symbolized.
We take our hats off when the flag passes by–if we wear hats. We salute the flag. We put our hands over our hearts. Flags should never be flown at night unless they are lit or if they are flying over a specifically designated site. We fly the flag at half-mast as a symbol of our mourning.
We have symbols in our faith, the cross the most obvious one. The cross was so powerful a symbol that the Crucifixion didn’t appear in Christian art until several centuries after Christ’s death. The memory of actual crucifixions was too fresh in early Christian minds. To stare at a cross was to stare at a violent death.
The American flag is relatively recent symbol by those standards, adopted by the Continental Congress on June 14, 1777. Commemoration of June 14 as Flag Day is even more recent, established by President Woodrow Wilson in 1916, 100 years ago.
Symbols by themselves mean nothing. The flag is mere fabric, the cross is a bit of wood or metal. But when we let a symbol stand for something we honor the better parts of our human nature. When we say the pledge of allegiance “to the flag,” we are reminding ourselves of the values it represents. We do the same thing when we reverence the cross.
So when you see the flag today, pause for a moment. If you’re wearing a hat, take it off. Put your hand over your heart. Say a prayer for “one nation under God with liberty and justice for all.”
On Thanksgiving, millions of Americans will gather together with family and friends and give thanks for their many blessings. Saying grace before breaking bread is a wonderful family tradition to kick-off the celebration of gratitude. Here are some favorite Thanksgiving meal prayers that your family and loved ones might like to share.
Thank you for the food we eat…
by Grace S. Arnold
Thank You for the food we eat
Our homes and families and those we meet.
And thank You for each good new day
And for Thy kind and loving way.
Lord, behold our family here assembled…
attributed to Robert Louis Stevenson
Lord, behold our family here assembled.
We thank Thee
For this place in which we dwell:
For the peace accorded us this day,
For the hope with which we expect tomorrow:
For the health, the work, the food and the bright skies that make our lives delightful,
For our friends in all parts of the earth, and our friendly helpers …
Let peace abound in our small company.
Christ our God, Bless us Your servants…
from Prayers for Grace
Christ our God,
Bless us Your servants,
Our home, the food and drink before us,
For You are the Source of all blessings,
Now and forever and ever. Amen.
Bless us, oh Lord, And try Thy gifts…
from Common Catholic Prayers
Bless us, oh Lord,
And these Thy gifts
Which we are about to receive
From Thy bounty,
Through Christ, our Lord.
Amen.
Lord Jesus, Be our holy Guest…
by Marci Alborghetti
Lord Jesus,
Be our holy Guest,
Our morning Joy, |
Our evening Rest
And with our daily bread impart
Thy love and peace in every heart.
Dear Lord, Bless this food…
from The Book of Common Worship
Dear Lord,
Bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies
And us to Thy service.
In Christ’s name we pray, Amen.
Heavenly Father, hear our thanks…
by Kathryn Bowen
Heavenly Father, hear our thanks
For thy love and care;
Help us all to show our love
And each blessing share.
For each new morning…
by Ralph Waldo Emerson
For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
Palm 10
Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.
Serve the LORD with gladness:
come before His presence with singing.
Know ye that the LORD He is God:
it is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves;
we are His people, and the sheep of His pasture.
Enter into His gates with thanksgiving,
and into His courts with praise:
be thankful unto Him, and bless His name.
For the LORD is good;
His mercy is everlasting;
and His truth endureth to all generations.
Dear Lord, We consider ourselves rich…
by U.K. Nichols
Dear Lord,
We consider ourselves rich beyond words
For having you as our Lord,
Our friend and now our honored guest.
Let all this fill our hearts with joy, praise and thanksgiving.
What Thanksgiving meal prayers will you share with your family and loved ones this year?
My alarm went off at 4:30 a.m., as usual. I took a peek out the window. The weatherman had been right. An icy rain fell over the Great Smoky Mountains. The roads would be bad today, no doubt about that.
I shaved, showered and gave my still-sleeping wife, Natalie, a soft kiss on the forehead. Two mornings a week, I’m up before Natalie. This was one of them. She could sleep in a little till she had to take our youngest daughter, Chelsea, to Smokey Mountain Elementary School.
var formDisplay=1;var nfForms=nfForms||[];var form=[];form.id=’5′;form.settings={“objectType”:”Form Setting”,”editActive”:true,”title”:”Sign up for Newsletter”,”show_title”:0,”allow_public_link”:0,”embed_form”:””,”clear_complete”:0,”hide_complete”:0,”default_label_pos”:”above”,”wrapper_class”:”master-signup-form-wrap”,”element_class”:”master-signup-form”,”key”:””,”add_submit”:0,”currency”:””,”unique_field_error”:”A form with this value has already been submitted.”,”logged_in”:false,”not_logged_in_msg”:””,”sub_limit_msg”:”The form has reached its submission limit.”,”calculations”:[],”container_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”title_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”row_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”row-odd_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”success-msg_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”error_msg_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”formContentData”:[{“order”:1,”cells”:[{“order”:0,”fields”:[“master_signup_email”],”width”:66},{“order”:1,”fields”:[“subscribe_now_1660636976556″],”width”:34}]}],”changeEmailErrorMsg”:”Please enter a valid email address!”,”changeDateErrorMsg”:”Please enter a valid date!”,”confirmFieldErrorMsg”:”These fields must match!”,”fieldNumberNumMinError”:”Number Min Error”,”fieldNumberNumMaxError”:”Number Max Error”,”fieldNumberIncrementBy”:”Please increment by “,”formErrorsCorrectErrors”:”Please correct errors before submitting this form.”,”validateRequiredField”:”This is a required field.”,”honeypotHoneypotError”:”Honeypot Error”,”fieldsMarkedRequired”:”Fields marked with an * are required”,”container_styles_background-color”:”#ffffff”,”container_styles_border”:””,”container_styles_height”:””,”container_styles_margin”:””,”container_styles_padding”:””,”container_styles_float”:””,”container_styles_advanced”:”border-radius:35px;n-webkit-border-radius:35px;”,”title_styles_border”:””,”title_styles_height”:””,”title_styles_width”:””,”title_styles_font-size”:””,”title_styles_margin”:””,”title_styles_padding”:””,”title_styles_float”:””,”row_styles_border”:””,”row_styles_width”:””,”row_styles_font-size”:””,”row_styles_margin”:””,”row_styles_padding”:””,”row-odd_styles_border”:””,”row-odd_styles_height”:””,”row-odd_styles_width”:””,”row-odd_styles_font-size”:””,”row-odd_styles_margin”:””,”row-odd_styles_padding”:””,”success-msg_styles_border”:””,”success-msg_styles_height”:””,”success-msg_styles_width”:””,”success-msg_styles_font-size”:””,”success-msg_styles_margin”:””,”success-msg_styles_padding”:””,”error_msg_styles_border”:””,”error_msg_styles_width”:””,”error_msg_styles_font-size”:””,”error_msg_styles_margin”:””,”error_msg_styles_padding”:””,”drawerDisabled”:false,”export_settings”:[],”form_title_heading_level”:”3″,”ninjaForms”:”Ninja Forms”,”fieldTextareaRTEInsertLink”:”Insert Link”,”fieldTextareaRTEInsertMedia”:”Insert Media”,”fieldTextareaRTESelectAFile”:”Select a file”,”formHoneypot”:”If you are a human seeing this field, please leave it empty.”,”fileUploadOldCodeFileUploadInProgress”:”File Upload in Progress.”,”fileUploadOldCodeFileUpload”:”FILE UPLOAD”,”currencySymbol”:”$”,”thousands_sep”:”,”,”decimal_point”:”.”,”siteLocale”:”en_US”,”dateFormat”:”m/d/Y”,”startOfWeek”:”1″,”of”:”of”,”previousMonth”:”Previous Month”,”nextMonth”:”Next Month”,”months”:[“January”,”February”,”March”,”April”,”May”,”June”,”July”,”August”,”September”,”October”,”November”,”December”],”monthsShort”:[“Jan”,”Feb”,”Mar”,”Apr”,”May”,”Jun”,”Jul”,”Aug”,”Sep”,”Oct”,”Nov”,”Dec”],”weekdays”:[“Sunday”,”Monday”,”Tuesday”,”Wednesday”,”Thursday”,”Friday”,”Saturday”],”weekdaysShort”:[“Sun”,”Mon”,”Tue”,”Wed”,”Thu”,”Fri”,”Sat”],”weekdaysMin”:[“Su”,”Mo”,”Tu”,”We”,”Th”,”Fr”,”Sa”],”recaptchaConsentMissing”:”reCaptcha validation couldn't load.”,”recaptchaMissingCookie”:”reCaptcha v3 validation couldn't load the cookie needed to submit the form.”,”recaptchaConsentEvent”:”Accept reCaptcha cookies before sending the form.”,”currency_symbol”:””,”beforeForm”:””,”beforeFields”:””,”afterFields”:””,”afterForm”:””};form.fields=[{“objectType”:”Field”,”objectDomain”:”fields”,”editActive”:false,”order”:1,”idAttribute”:”id”,”label”:”Email”,”type”:”email”,”key”:”master_signup_email”,”label_pos”:”hidden”,”required”:1,”default”:””,”placeholder”:”@Your email”,”container_class”:”master-email-wrap”,”element_class”:””,”admin_label”:”master_signup_email”,”help_text”:””,”custom_name_attribute”:”email”,”personally_identifiable”:1,”wrap_styles_border”:””,”wrap_styles_width”:””,”wrap_styles_margin”:0,”wrap_styles_padding”:0,”wrap_styles_float”:””,”wrap_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”label_styles_border”:””,”label_styles_width”:””,”label_styles_font-size”:””,”label_styles_margin”:0,”label_styles_padding”:0,”label_styles_float”:””,”label_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”element_styles_border”:””,”element_styles_width”:””,”element_styles_font-size”:””,”element_styles_margin”:0,”element_styles_padding”:0,”element_styles_float”:””,”element_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”cellcid”:”c4722″,”value”:””,”drawerDisabled”:false,”wrap_styles_advanced”:”margin:0;nborder-radius: 25px;n-webkit-border-radius: 25px;”,”element_styles_background-color”:”#ffffff”,”element_styles_border-color”:”#ffffff”,”element_styles_advanced”:”margin-bottom:0;nborder-radius: 25px;n-webkit-border-radius: 25px;”,”manual_key”:true,”id”:27,”beforeField”:””,”afterField”:””,”parentType”:”email”,”element_templates”:[“email”,”input”],”old_classname”:””,”wrap_template”:”wrap”},{“objectType”:”Field”,”objectDomain”:”fields”,”editActive”:false,”order”:2,”idAttribute”:”id”,”label”:”Subscribe Now”,”type”:”submit”,”cellcid”:”c4725″,”processing_label”:”Processing”,”container_class”:””,”element_class”:””,”key”:”subscribe_now_1660636976556″,”wrap_styles_border”:””,”wrap_styles_width”:120,”wrap_styles_margin”:0,”wrap_styles_padding”:0,”wrap_styles_float”:””,”wrap_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”element_styles_border”:””,”element_styles_width”:120,”element_styles_font-size”:””,”element_styles_margin”:0,”element_styles_padding”:0,”element_styles_float”:””,”element_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”submit_element_hover_styles_border”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_width”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_font-size”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_margin”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_padding”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_float”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”wrap_styles_advanced”:””,”element_styles_background-color”:”#00ab84″,”submit_element_hover_styles_background-color”:”#00ab84″,”drawerDisabled”:false,”id”:28,”beforeField”:””,”afterField”:””,”value”:””,”label_pos”:”above”,”parentType”:”textbox”,”element_templates”:[“submit”,”button”,”input”],”old_classname”:””,”wrap_template”:”wrap-no-label”}];nfForms.push(form);
I was at Elders Superette, our family-owned convenience store on Highway 441, by 5:30 a.m. Plenty of time to open the pumps and get the coffee going for the commuter rush, or our country equivalent of it.
In the window I hung a “Live Bait” sign that Natalie had made for me. The colors were in vivid lavender, Natalie’s favorite. She uses it every chance she gets.
I was prepping another round of coffee a little after seven when two ambulances and a fire truck shot by outside, sirens shrieking. That’s a sound that will get anyone’s heart pumping.
They were headed in the direction of Smokey Mountain Elementary School. Probably a wreck, I thought. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too serious.
Natalie would have dropped Chelsea off a few minutes earlier.
I turned the radio to the police scanner: “Asheville, this is Cherokee. We need a medical chopper at 441 by Smokey Mountain Elementary School.”
A chopper! That didn’t sound good. Choppers only flew in from Memorial Mission Hospital in Asheville, 60 miles away. They wouldn’t make the trip for anything but a really serious accident. How would they land in this mess?
Right then the telephone rang. It was Alice Pressley, our pastor Ned Pressley’s wife. “Dewayne,” she said, “I’m on 441 by Smokey Mountain Elementary School. Natalie’s been in a wreck.”
My hands trembling, I dropped the phone and rushed outside. I was locking up the pumps when Pastor Ned pulled into the parking lot.
“Alice just called,” he said, hopping into my car. “I’m praying, Dewayne, I’m praying. Let’s go.”
Through the fog, the telltale flashing red lights came into view, then the shocking scene: A big Ford pickup had T-boned Natalie’s Nissan Sentra, completely crushing it from the driver’s side.
I jumped out of the car, suddenly unsure of what to do next. Where was Natalie? Not still trapped in the twisted heap of the Nissan?
Someone grabbed me. I was told she was in the back of the ambulance already. EMS techs crowded around her. One of them—a guy I know—stopped me before I could get to her.
“We’re doing everything we can, Dewayne. Chopper can’t land because of the fog. We need to get some fluids into her before we take her to the hospital.”
I raced over to Smokey Mountain, ran in and pulled Chelsea out of class. Then I called our other daughter, 17-year-old Brittany, on my cell.
“Your mom’s been in an accident,” I told her, keeping my voice level. I didn’t want either of the girls to hear the fear in it. “We need to meet her at the hospital.”
We got to our local hospital minutes after the ambulance. “She’s getting a blood transfusion,” a doctor told us. “We’re sending her on to Memorial Mission in Asheville by ambulance soon as we can.”
The girls and I were silent, but I never stopped praying all the way there. I knew the girls were praying too. I wanted—needed—to believe that Natalie was going to be okay. That’s what I kept telling myself every last mile to Asheville.
By the time we got to the hospital, a heavy snow was falling. It was thundering too—an eerie, ominous sound.
“It looks like she’s bleeding internally,” the doctor there said to me. “We want to do exploratory surgery to check for any internal injuries.”
Soon family and friends started to arrive. I have never been shy about talking to God, and as I sat in that waiting room, I poured my heart out to him.
“All things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive,” it says in Matthew. I felt like I needed a physical reminder of that promise. So I wrote it down on a piece of paper and slipped it into my pocket.
Finally the surgeon came out. “Her pelvis is broken, she ruptured her spleen, broke a lot of bones and there are a lot of smaller injuries as well,” he told us. “But all of that can heal. The real question is whether her brain was damaged. A CAT scan will give us some answers.”
“You can go into the post-op room and see her now,” a nurse said to the girls and me. “But just for a minute.”
I tried to keep on staying strong for the girls. The last thing they needed right now was to see me cry. But it was hard.
My wife lay amid a mass of bandages and tubes. And I could see that her head had been badly cut. I took her hand and whispered into her ear, “The girls are still young. They need their mother. I need you too.”
That was all the time we had.
Then, good news. It seemed that our prayers had been answered. Natalie’s CAT scan came back clean.
“It doesn’t look like she suffered any brain trauma at all,” her doctor said to me. “With any luck, she should wake up by tomorrow.”
That night, the girls and I drove to my parents’ house back in Whittier, 50 miles south of Asheville. Another half-dozen miles and we would have been home, but none of us could bear the idea of seeing our empty house with all its reminders that Mom was gone from it.
“Don’t worry,” I told Brittany and Chelsea. “Mom will wake up tomorrow, just you wait and see.”
But she didn’t. The doctors ran an MRI, which shows a lot more detail than CAT scans. The news was bad—just the reverse of what we’d heard the day before.
“There’s been trauma to the brain,” the doctor told me. “It could be irreversible. We just don’t know at this point.” Then he took a breath and looked me in the eye. “We don’t know if your wife will ever wake up,” he said quietly.
My mind spun and I gripped the chair until my knuckles whitened. This couldn’t be happening. Not to Natalie, who was bursting with life. Not to her family, who loved her more than anything in the world. And not to me, who couldn’t imagine the world without her.
On Palm Sunday, three days after the accident, Pastor Ned called on everyone in our church to spread the word about Natalie’s condition. Prayer circles sprang up all around the state and beyond.
I tried to stay positive for the girls and they in turn did their best to be upbeat.
“Mom’s going to be fine,” Chelsea said time and again. “Just wait and see.”
We were always careful to be extra-positive at Natalie’s bedside. The girls talked about school and their friends. We read aloud from the cards that were streaming in from all over. We hummed “Amazing Grace,” my wife’s favorite hymn.
But we couldn’t tell if she heard us or not. No smile, no words, no squeeze of the hand. No sign of life.
Natalie’s niece Courtney brought a stuffed floppy Easter bunny for her, a bright lavender one. Pastor Ned brought an anointed prayer cloth and we pinned it to the bunny.
“Mom’s favorite color,” Chelsea said. “I can’t wait till she sees it.”
How could I tell her that that might never happen? How could I prepare them for something I couldn’t imagine myself?
Good Friday came. Natalie had now been unconscious for more than a week. The head surgeon called Brittany, Natalie’s mom, Nelda, Natalie’s sister, Angie, Natalie’s niece and me together.
“I need to be absolutely frank with all of you,” he said. “Natalie’s chances of coming out of the coma at this point are about one in a million.”
It was as if all the air had suddenly gone out of the room.
“Is there any other hope?” I asked finally. “Anything at all?”
“Yes,” the doctor said seriously. “Divine intervention.”
The meeting broke up and we headed back to the ICU to stand a vigil that seemed increasingly hopeless.
Of course, I still had that piece of paper with those words from Matthew that I’d written out on the first day of our ordeal. “All things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive.” By this point, it felt like they were written on my heart itself.
I put my head down and prayed a Good Friday prayer unlike any I had ever prayed. God, on this day Jesus put himself into your hands, unconditionally. I am doing the same. If it’s your will, I know you can bring Natalie back to us. If it isn’t…
Thy will be done.
Easter morning. The girls and I were driving from my parents house to ours to wash up before our return to the hospital. My cell phone rang. It was Angie.
“Dewayne,” she said, “Natalie’s awake!”
The girls and I forgot all about washing up. I floored it for Asheville. We rushed into the ICU. Natalie lay just as she had when we’d left her the evening before, even down to the prayer shawl and bunny that were nestled on the sheets beside her.
But Natalie’s eyes were open. Beautifully, gloriously open, taking in this Easter morn.
We all gathered around her bedside. Brittany leaned in and gave Natalie a wink. Natalie’s right eye fluttered back. Then Brittany puckered her lips, blowing her mom a kiss. Natalie puckered her own mouth slightly.
I leaned over and ever so gently kissed her forehead.
Word flew around town, and more friends and family arrived.
“What’s Natalie’s favorite hymn?” a friend from Natalie’s job asked.
I told her.
Halfway through “Amazing Grace,” a tear ran down Natalie’s face, like a drop of God’s grace itself.
There are things that just can’t be explained by medical science, only by faith. What happened to Natalie, I believe was surely one of them.
And I’m not the only one.
One of the doctors was very straightforward with me afterward. “This is none of my doing,” he said. “This comes from a higher power.”
This Easter is the third anniversary of Natalie’s accident. Today she is fully recovered. But none of us in the family will ever be the same. I don’t think anyone who was in that hospital room that Easter, or during the weeks that led up to it, or anyone who knows Natalie and what God has done for her, will be.
As for me, on those mornings when I’m up before her, I still always give my sleeping wife a kiss before going to work. I linger now sometimes, knowing just how much a kiss can mean.
Haven’t sent all your Christmas cards yet? Still need to get a present or two for someone on your list? Have no yearning to take the tree down for a while?
Don’t worry. Christmas isn’t officially over yet. The traditional 12 days of Christmas start on Christmas Day and they’re not over until January 6, the Feast of the Epiphany that marks the arrival of the wise men.
var formDisplay=1;var nfForms=nfForms||[];var form=[];form.id=’5′;form.settings={“objectType”:”Form Setting”,”editActive”:true,”title”:”Sign up for Newsletter”,”show_title”:0,”allow_public_link”:0,”embed_form”:””,”clear_complete”:0,”hide_complete”:0,”default_label_pos”:”above”,”wrapper_class”:”master-signup-form-wrap”,”element_class”:”master-signup-form”,”key”:””,”add_submit”:0,”currency”:””,”unique_field_error”:”A form with this value has already been submitted.”,”logged_in”:false,”not_logged_in_msg”:””,”sub_limit_msg”:”The form has reached its submission limit.”,”calculations”:[],”container_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”title_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”row_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”row-odd_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”success-msg_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”error_msg_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”formContentData”:[{“order”:1,”cells”:[{“order”:0,”fields”:[“master_signup_email”],”width”:66},{“order”:1,”fields”:[“subscribe_now_1660636976556″],”width”:34}]}],”changeEmailErrorMsg”:”Please enter a valid email address!”,”changeDateErrorMsg”:”Please enter a valid date!”,”confirmFieldErrorMsg”:”These fields must match!”,”fieldNumberNumMinError”:”Number Min Error”,”fieldNumberNumMaxError”:”Number Max Error”,”fieldNumberIncrementBy”:”Please increment by “,”formErrorsCorrectErrors”:”Please correct errors before submitting this form.”,”validateRequiredField”:”This is a required field.”,”honeypotHoneypotError”:”Honeypot Error”,”fieldsMarkedRequired”:”Fields marked with an * are required”,”container_styles_background-color”:”#ffffff”,”container_styles_border”:””,”container_styles_height”:””,”container_styles_margin”:””,”container_styles_padding”:””,”container_styles_float”:””,”container_styles_advanced”:”border-radius:35px;n-webkit-border-radius:35px;”,”title_styles_border”:””,”title_styles_height”:””,”title_styles_width”:””,”title_styles_font-size”:””,”title_styles_margin”:””,”title_styles_padding”:””,”title_styles_float”:””,”row_styles_border”:””,”row_styles_width”:””,”row_styles_font-size”:””,”row_styles_margin”:””,”row_styles_padding”:””,”row-odd_styles_border”:””,”row-odd_styles_height”:””,”row-odd_styles_width”:””,”row-odd_styles_font-size”:””,”row-odd_styles_margin”:””,”row-odd_styles_padding”:””,”success-msg_styles_border”:””,”success-msg_styles_height”:””,”success-msg_styles_width”:””,”success-msg_styles_font-size”:””,”success-msg_styles_margin”:””,”success-msg_styles_padding”:””,”error_msg_styles_border”:””,”error_msg_styles_width”:””,”error_msg_styles_font-size”:””,”error_msg_styles_margin”:””,”error_msg_styles_padding”:””,”drawerDisabled”:false,”export_settings”:[],”form_title_heading_level”:”3″,”ninjaForms”:”Ninja Forms”,”fieldTextareaRTEInsertLink”:”Insert Link”,”fieldTextareaRTEInsertMedia”:”Insert Media”,”fieldTextareaRTESelectAFile”:”Select a file”,”formHoneypot”:”If you are a human seeing this field, please leave it empty.”,”fileUploadOldCodeFileUploadInProgress”:”File Upload in Progress.”,”fileUploadOldCodeFileUpload”:”FILE UPLOAD”,”currencySymbol”:”$”,”thousands_sep”:”,”,”decimal_point”:”.”,”siteLocale”:”en_US”,”dateFormat”:”m/d/Y”,”startOfWeek”:”1″,”of”:”of”,”previousMonth”:”Previous Month”,”nextMonth”:”Next Month”,”months”:[“January”,”February”,”March”,”April”,”May”,”June”,”July”,”August”,”September”,”October”,”November”,”December”],”monthsShort”:[“Jan”,”Feb”,”Mar”,”Apr”,”May”,”Jun”,”Jul”,”Aug”,”Sep”,”Oct”,”Nov”,”Dec”],”weekdays”:[“Sunday”,”Monday”,”Tuesday”,”Wednesday”,”Thursday”,”Friday”,”Saturday”],”weekdaysShort”:[“Sun”,”Mon”,”Tue”,”Wed”,”Thu”,”Fri”,”Sat”],”weekdaysMin”:[“Su”,”Mo”,”Tu”,”We”,”Th”,”Fr”,”Sa”],”recaptchaConsentMissing”:”reCaptcha validation couldn't load.”,”recaptchaMissingCookie”:”reCaptcha v3 validation couldn't load the cookie needed to submit the form.”,”recaptchaConsentEvent”:”Accept reCaptcha cookies before sending the form.”,”currency_symbol”:””,”beforeForm”:””,”beforeFields”:””,”afterFields”:””,”afterForm”:””};form.fields=[{“objectType”:”Field”,”objectDomain”:”fields”,”editActive”:false,”order”:1,”idAttribute”:”id”,”label”:”Email”,”type”:”email”,”key”:”master_signup_email”,”label_pos”:”hidden”,”required”:1,”default”:””,”placeholder”:”@Your email”,”container_class”:”master-email-wrap”,”element_class”:””,”admin_label”:”master_signup_email”,”help_text”:””,”custom_name_attribute”:”email”,”personally_identifiable”:1,”wrap_styles_border”:””,”wrap_styles_width”:””,”wrap_styles_margin”:0,”wrap_styles_padding”:0,”wrap_styles_float”:””,”wrap_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”label_styles_border”:””,”label_styles_width”:””,”label_styles_font-size”:””,”label_styles_margin”:0,”label_styles_padding”:0,”label_styles_float”:””,”label_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”element_styles_border”:””,”element_styles_width”:””,”element_styles_font-size”:””,”element_styles_margin”:0,”element_styles_padding”:0,”element_styles_float”:””,”element_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”cellcid”:”c4722″,”value”:””,”drawerDisabled”:false,”wrap_styles_advanced”:”margin:0;nborder-radius: 25px;n-webkit-border-radius: 25px;”,”element_styles_background-color”:”#ffffff”,”element_styles_border-color”:”#ffffff”,”element_styles_advanced”:”margin-bottom:0;nborder-radius: 25px;n-webkit-border-radius: 25px;”,”manual_key”:true,”id”:27,”beforeField”:””,”afterField”:””,”parentType”:”email”,”element_templates”:[“email”,”input”],”old_classname”:””,”wrap_template”:”wrap”},{“objectType”:”Field”,”objectDomain”:”fields”,”editActive”:false,”order”:2,”idAttribute”:”id”,”label”:”Subscribe Now”,”type”:”submit”,”cellcid”:”c4725″,”processing_label”:”Processing”,”container_class”:””,”element_class”:””,”key”:”subscribe_now_1660636976556″,”wrap_styles_border”:””,”wrap_styles_width”:120,”wrap_styles_margin”:0,”wrap_styles_padding”:0,”wrap_styles_float”:””,”wrap_styles_show_advanced_css”:1,”element_styles_border”:””,”element_styles_width”:120,”element_styles_font-size”:””,”element_styles_margin”:0,”element_styles_padding”:0,”element_styles_float”:””,”element_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”submit_element_hover_styles_border”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_width”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_font-size”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_margin”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_padding”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_float”:””,”submit_element_hover_styles_show_advanced_css”:0,”wrap_styles_advanced”:””,”element_styles_background-color”:”#00ab84″,”submit_element_hover_styles_background-color”:”#00ab84″,”drawerDisabled”:false,”id”:28,”beforeField”:””,”afterField”:””,”value”:””,”label_pos”:”above”,”parentType”:”textbox”,”element_templates”:[“submit”,”button”,”input”],”old_classname”:””,”wrap_template”:”wrap-no-label”}];nfForms.push(form);
You know the story, of course. “Wise men from the East” followed the star from their homeland far away–possibly Persia–looking for the newborn king.
They stopped in Jerusalem where they met with the nasty King Herod and consulted with his chief priests and scribes to learn where this new King would be found.
They continued following that star until they reached Jesus in Bethlehem. Overcome with awe and joy, they gave him the gifts they had brought with them: gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Because there were three gifts we generally figure that there were three wise men although no number is given in the Bible. There could have been three…there could have been more.
What we remember about them is that they were gift givers, and in giving our gifts we honor the first gifts ever given at this season.
It’s also interesting to note that the wise men didn’t simply plop their gifts on the ground but offered them in treasure chests. The first Christmas boxes? The predecessor to gift-wrapping? It’s fun to think so.
Fortunately the wise men were warned in a dream not to return to monstrous Herod, and they went home a different route. Similarly Joseph and Mary and Jesus escaped to Egypt to avoid Herod’s wrath.
In many countries gifts are not exchanged until January 6. So just in case you thought it was too late…fret not. You’ve got time yet.
The word “epiphany” means recognizing the true nature of something, seeing it for what it really is. The wise men knew what they were seeing in Bethlehem. Would that we could be so wise.
Aunt Nancy understood the power of prayer. It was a regular spiritual practice for her. I think she must have logged countless hours of prayer requests for others, not to mention her own needs for healing prayer.
She and her husband, Uncle Pete, were some of my parents’ oldest friends. Not an aunt by blood, she was a relative through her care and affection for my family. The last time I saw her she was in a wheelchair but her hope for some medical miracle was always present.
Maybe there were other miracles in her life. Back in the summer when we were putting the November issue of Guideposts together, thinking about thankfulness and Thanksgiving a good four months before it appears on the calendar, I remembered the gift Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete gave my family years ago: a subscription to Guideposts.
I wrote a little article about it for the magazine and was pleased to have it published because Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete’s gift explains why I am where I am and why I have the job I do. I loved reading that little magazine that appeared at our house month after month, and remembered it well when I applied for my job. I could even retell stories that I’d read as a child. Still can.
I put it all down in a long-overdue thanks. Some say it’s never too late to say thanks, but this one was a long time coming. Even before the November issue was printed I sent a copy of the article to Mom to give to Aunt Nancy and Uncle Pete. “Tell them thanks.”
Then last Wednesday Mom called to tell me that Aunt Nancy died. She’d suffered for such a long time I’m sure I shouldn’t have been surprised. But as a friend of mine reminds me, even when a death is expected, even when it might seem a release, it still takes you back. “Poor Uncle Pete,” I said to Mom.
“He’s been a saint,” she said. They’re both saints. I’m glad I had the chance to tell them thanks.
Although it’s the “most wonderful time of the year,” the holiday season can be filled with stress and pressure. Christmas is just a few weeks away, and often the list of things to do exceeds the time we have available. Perhaps we want to give our loved ones and friends a gift, but we must be careful financially. And on top of that, there are many festive activities to attend. The expectations and demands can dampen the joy of the holidays and wear us down spiritually and physically. But what if we begin this holiday season with a prayer?
Prayer can get us started in the right spirit. Before you go over your list of things to do by Christmas, pause and pray to the Lord. First, thank the Lord for the gift of Christ in the world and in your life.
Second, pray for your family and friends. Make a list of their spiritual and emotional needs and ask God to guide you so that you can be a blessing to them this time of the year.
Third, pray for the less fortunate in our world, those who Jesus makes note of in the Gospel: the hungry, sick and others.
Lastly, pray for God to guide your steps and decisions and to give you strength and wisdom as you celebrate the coming of Christ. Prayer helps put things in perspective and keeps Christ in the season.
In this Advent season, we pray:
Eternal God, thank You for the hope and joy that fills our hearts through the gift of Your son. We thank You for the light of Christ that shines in our hearts and sparkles during our darkest hours.
Let this light beam so brightly that others will see the gift of Jesus in us.
Open our eyes to see and experience the wonders and miracles of Christmas. Help us to pause in our busy lives and flee from the commercial pressures so that we can enjoy Your presence and the company of others.
As we celebrate with friends and family, help us remember our troops on the front lines and our veterans here at home; let peace reign in their hearts. Comfort those who grieve and make free those who yearn to be whole again. Make us agents of peace in a world divided by race, religion and politics.
Give us the courage to do what is right for the poor, strangers and immigrants alike. May our Christmas be filled with hope and faith. Amen.
OK, I didn’t know Ascension was today either. It’s not marked down on my calendar; I didn’t get a text reminding me of the holiday. None of the prayer sites I subscribe to alerted me (maybe I need to add to my list of prayer sites).
It’s not even a Sunday. It’s a Thursday, for goodness sake.Of course, that’s exactly why Ascension is always a Thursday. Think about it. Forty days after Easter, forty days when the risen Christ appeared to the apostles and the disciples, the 40th day is a Thursday. “He appeared to them over a period of forty days, speaking to them about God’s kingdom,” the Bible says (Acts 1:3).
That 40th day, his followers gathered together for a meal—a good reminder that some of the best spiritual things happen over a meal—and Jesus promised them that they would soon be baptized with the Holy Spirit, but for now he was leaving. Then while they were watching he was lifted up and a cloud took him up out of their sight.
I was reminded of Ascension this morning in an email from a church friend, a fellow member of our board. He was talking business—a meeting we’re having tonight, a couple of points he wanted to make, the sometimes boring but necessary nitty-gritty. And then he said, “How perfect that we’re doing this on Ascension Day. We’re still like those disciples gathering around him, looking for the Holy Spirit.”
My favorite painting of the Ascension is at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the only part of Jesus it shows are his feet, with the disciples below looking up. I put myself there in that painting and pray, “OK, Jesus, I can’t always see all of you, but if I keep my own feet on the right path, listening for you, hearing your stories, traveling with the poor and the needy like you did, I can stay close to you.” Then I look to my fellow followers, like the group gathering at church tonight. May we not forget your feet!
Sometimes images come into my head for a prayer. Even an image from Lego.
Everybody’s been talking about The Lego Movie, which I haven’t seen yet. Perhaps because I don’t have kids the right age and therefore don’t have the perfect excuse to see it. I would have to stand in line by myself and exclaim with some chagrin, “I’m here for myself.”
Still, I love Legos. I love the way you can build something from nothing. A castle, a fortress, a house, a store, a school, a church, anything. When my boys were younger we spent hours building, happy hours concentrating on red, green, yellow, blue blocks for bridges, roads, arches, gates, people moving in and out, knights on plastic Lego horses, shields in hand.
What I especially remember was my son Timothy’s castle that we constructed out of Lego. It had a moat and a big gray wall and best of all a drawbridge leading to an entrance with a portcullis. We loved that word, portcullis, the metal gate, as we raised it and lowered it for the Lego knights coming into the safe quarters of the castle. “Who goes there? Are you friend or enemy? A friend? Come in, come in.” And we raised the portcullis; we lifted up the gate.
That image of the portcullis is what came to me when I was recently reading Psalm 24: “Lift up your heads, O gates; lift them high, O everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in” (verse 7). God is ready at all times for us to open ourselves up, open up the gates of our hearts, lowering our defenses, allowing him to enter in. “Who is this King of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in battle” (verse 8).
For me my battles aren’t usually ones with swords and spears, but ones fighting inner demons of insecurity, despair, lack of trust, wariness, skepticism, doubt, materialism, hopelessness, unkindness, narrowness. I need to lift up that portcullis for God to enter in; or drop it down to keep some of those negative thoughts away. Sin is anything that separates us from the love of God. Close that gate on sin. My Lego gate.
One of our preachers at Lent was reminding us that this is the perfect time to do something, take on a practice that brings you closer to God. As you read the Bible and pray, go ahead and see the images that come into your head. They might seem outlandish, even childish. But I find my prayer life is enhanced when I use them.
The Lord is strong and mighty in battle. We can do anything with him on our side. Lift up your gates… however you imagine them. You can make yourself a Lego prayer.
Any jar can be turned into a prayer jar. A mason jar, for example, or an old coffee canister. Some people decorate their prayer jar, an exercise that can itself be turned into an act of prayer. But whatever you use, there are numerous ways a prayer jar can encourage and enliven prayer for you. Let me suggest one way that can make the coming month a special blessing.
Once you’ve chosen a jar, gather the paper or card stock on which you’ll write your prayers. You might cut one-inch-by-six-inch strips of paper or use 3×5 note cards. The blank backs of business cards also work well.
Place the jar in a prominent place, where you’ll see it often (such as a kitchen table or bedroom nightstand). Keep the writing items next to it (or in a separate jar) so you can add prayers at any time.
Once that’s done, you’re ready to pray. When a hurting family member comes to mind, jot her name down on the paper or card, perhaps add a few words of entreaty (such as “help her, she’s so lonely”), and place it in the jar. When a friend calls with news of a health problem, add him to the jar. When you’re tempted to worry about a financial matter, write it down and place your request in the jar.
You might also add blessings and praises to the prayer jar as the days go by: a “thank you, God” for an unusually tasty meal or a visit from a niece or nephew or a simple expression of happiness (“my new glasses are in!”).
After you’ve filled your prayer jar with requests and praises, it can be a wonderful celebration to empty it, reviewing and recalling all that God has done in answer to your prayers. You might make that review time a Christmas Eve (or day-after-Christmas) exercise or incorporate it into your New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day celebration. You might even find it so fun and helpful that you continue to use it—and maybe expand on it—in the coming year.
My cell phone buzzed first thing this morning with a message. “Who’s texting me now?” I wondered. Turned out it was God. Or at least one of God’s minions.
There on the screen was a prayer: Give us, who are called by your holy Word, grace to follow him without delay, and to bring those near to us into his gracious presence.
I should explain. I don’t give my cell phone number out to anybody, just family and friends.
When I get a call or a text it’s from somebody I know and if it’s an unknown number, I don’t answer it. He or she can leave a message. (Okay, once it was Elizabeth Dole and I immediately called her back, apologetically.)
But here it was a prayer on my screen. Then I remembered. This was something I signed up for. An Advent message for every day of the Advent season.
Advent often gets buried in the loud, raucous, green-and-red-lights, tinsel-on-everything, commercial scream of “Shop Till You Drop” days before Christmas. It’s about waiting, and every inherent “Buy It Now!” message of the season argues against celebrating Advent.
Where is the sign that says, “Open your heart, make room, your Savior’s coming?” And not just for the first time but for the second time and time immemorial, God’s time of peace and justice forever.
That’s why I was grateful to a group of young adults at church–yes, one of them is my younger son, Tim–who came up with this idea. Advent warriors, the ultimate counter-culturists.
“The Young Adults of St. Michael’s are offering a daily digital Advent calendar,” said the announcement in the bulletin. “Sign up to receive a short, contemplative text message during Advent by texting ADVENTTIDE to 313131 or emailing your name and cell phone number to st.michaels.ya.advent.2014@gmail.com.”
Try it. You’ll like it. Nobody’s trying to sell you anything. And it only lasts 25 days…22 days by now. I can assure you these Christmas counter-culturists are the best sort of elves. One of them spends most of his weekends among the pots and pans of the Saturday soup kitchen.
Waiting doesn’t come easy to me. I like things to happen right now. But waiting in prayer is just right, waiting with God and working with God as He creates his wonders.
I like being reminded of that at 8:30 in the morning when the phone buzzes with a prayer in my pocket. Like I said, I only give out my cell number to friends and family.
The Christmas season, for many, is a time of memories, beauty and warmth. But for others it can be a time of struggle. They may grieve a loss or feel lonely. Or the holidays may stir up difficult memories. Christmas peace and Christmas joy are not automatic, and neither is Christmas hope. Hope can sometimes surprise us, but it can also be awakened. Hope can come, even to those in difficult circumstances, as a fruit of prayer. Let a Christmas prayer of hope guide you to it.
Here are nine prayers drawn from the Bible that can help foster an attitude of hope, not only at this time of year but all year long:
1) Prayer of Hope for the Whole Day
Guide me in Your truth and teach me, for You are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long (Psalm 25:5, NIV).
2) Prayer to Have a Need Met
God, I know Your eyes are on those who fear You, on those whose hope is in Your unfailing love. I believe You love me and will not fail me. I wait in hope for You; You are my help and shield (from Psalm 33:18, 20).
Mighty God, You have answered Your people many times with awesome and righteous deeds; You are the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas, who formed the mountains by Your power, having armed Yourself with strength, who stilled the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves, and the turmoil of the nations. The whole earth is filled with awe at Your wonders; where morning dawns, where evening fades, You call forth songs of joy (Psalm 65:5-8, NIV). What You have done before, do again, and in the meantime fill my waiting heart with hope.
Lord God, the psalmist said repeatedly, “I have put my hope in Your Word.” Even when my soul faints, I put my hope in Your Word, for You are my refuge and my shield. Send me light and blessing and hope—most of all, hope—as I read Your Word (based on Psalm 119:74, 81, 114, 147).
Jesus, the prophet promised You would not break a bruised reed or snuff out a smoldering wick; You show mercy to all, even to those who seem past hope, and in Your name the nations will put their hope (Matthew 12:20-22). Send hope to _______, until healing appears.
Savior, You have delivered Your people from deadly peril, and will deliver them again. On You we have set our hope that You will continue to deliver us, especially __________. Send hope. Send deliverance. Send thanks for all Your gracious favor (from 2 Corinthians 1:10).
7) Prayer for Christmas Hope in Abundance
God of hope fill me with all joy and peace as I trust in You, so that I may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit (from Romans 15:13).
8) Prayer for Growth in Righteousness
I am often displeased and discouraged with my spiritual life, Lord. But through the Spirit I eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which I hope (based on Galatians 5:5).
9) Prayer for Future Christmases
Father, let the eyes of my heart be enlightened in order that I may know the hope to which You have called me, the riches of my glorious inheritance among Your holy people (Ephesians 1:18).
Imagine how your hope will take root and grow if you pray a Christmas prayer of hope even outside of the holiday season!
I should explain. I don’t give my cell phone number out to anybody, just family and friends.