by Robbie Andrassy

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” - Romans 8:28

Recently, one of the students in Sunday School came up to me after class and triumphantly showed me the craft that he made in class. It was a little paper house that had Rom. 8:28 written on the roof. He looked up and handed me the well-colored but fragile structure. As I analyzed it he said rather commandingly, "I want to give that to you, but don't you chuck it!" That cracked me up. I looked at him and replied, "Don't worry, I always save things like this."

I feel like, in a humorous way, God was reminding me, "Don't you forget this truth! Don't you chuck it!" It was ironic to me that such a powerful verse was written on something so fragile. Our lives are like that little paper house—fragile, feeble, and finite. Yet, written over them is the promise that all things are working together for our good. That little paper house is the centerpiece on my kitchen table now because I need to be constantly reminded that no matter how transient my life and circumstances are, God is working everything in my life for my good and his glory. Remember, we’re not in control (and that’s a good thing!), but God is, and that is a most comforting truth in this “paper house” world.

by Jason Bradshaw

“Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.” – 2 Corinthians 6:10a

There is a joy that cannot be mustered up. No amount of self-effort is capable of bringing it about. Yet against all odds, it remains. It is a joy that is present when happiness is absent. It may be held inwardly even when it's too hard to express outwardly, for it is that kind of inexpressible joy that Peter describes when he writes to believers who have suffered loss under intense persecution, “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you are grieved by various trials” (1 Peter 1:6,8).

There is a joy that is not blind to reality. It recognizes and acknowledges sorrow but it is not ultimately overcome by it. It is a persevering joy! It is not a joy that comes to one naturally, but a supernatural working of grace in the heart. It is a fruit of the Spirit, a free gift, and it can't be imitated. It comes from knowing God in Christ Jesus, and it cannot be stolen or lost. This joy comes from knowing our biggest burden—the debt of sin—has been removed from us “as far as the east is from the west” (Psalm 103:12). It’s a joy of being reconciled to a holy and glorious God, and adopted as His children, by the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

There is a joy that overflows in praise to God, even when we don't have the words. It is a joy that weathers many battles and suffers many losses. One might not even realize its true power until everything else we trust in is gone. But when Christ becomes everything, we can rejoice even in our heaviest trials because this joy is not rooted in the now, but in the already and the not yet. It is a joy anchored to what has happened and to what is coming. It rests in Him who was. It waits on Him who is, and it looks to Him who will be (Revelation 1:8).

O fellow traveler, if you don't feel this joy and inner triumph this season, if it feels too hard to smile, then remember His goodness, His love, His Word, and His faithfulness to keep it. Remember, He sees you. He knows you. He is with you. And He will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5). There is a joy that Jesus offers to us in every season of life. It is Him!

by Meredith Woolwine

“And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit.” Luke 1:41

I’ve always loved imagining this sweet scene of Mary and Elizabeth before the birth of their boys, Jesus and John. Mary entering Elizabeth’s home and Elizabeth excitedly shouting, “Mary, my baby boy leaped!”—Both of them smiling together, dreaming up what these boys may be one day, knowing that God had blessed each of them with a miraculous child, and through Jesus had brought them together.

In the first chapter of his gospel, Luke highlights the blessings of covenant life. Mary is not alone and neither is Elizabeth. Jesus had brought them together. We see both women singing praises to God, sharing in one another’s joy. Elizabeth says, “Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb!” (v.42). Mary sings a song of praise to God: “My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior” (v. 46-47). Mary then stays with Elizabeth in her home for three months (v. 56). I can only imagine the amount of lifting, cooking and cleaning that these two women shared with their bellies growing and backs aching. 

As believers we too have been brought together by Jesus. We have the blessing of sharing life with one another, just like Mary and Elizabeth. Even in the celebration of births, we vow, as a covenant community, to assist the parents in the raising of their child, “giving all love and support wherever needed.” It doesn’t stop there. Like Mary, we can show up. Like Elizabeth, we can host. We can bring meals in challenging times, disciple our younger ones in Gospel Kids, or simply be a listening ear. Like Mary and Elizabeth, we can enjoy the blessings of belonging together. So, let’s show up. Let’s serve. Let’s share in both the joys and sorrows of life’s unique seasons, because Jesus has brought us into his covenant family. 

by Emily Malone

“But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” – Luke

It wasn’t until I was pregnant with our second child, our only son, that I truly thought about Mary the mother of Jesus.  Contentedly patting my growing belly in what happened to be the advent season, I caught sight of a tiny infant hand and immediately pictured a pierced hand instead.  Months later, as I kissed the crown of my tiny boy, I couldn’t help but imagine a crown of thorns instead.  And for the first time, I saw the story of our Lord through the eyes of a mother…a mother who deeply loved her son.  Having grown up a believer in Jesus Christ, the story of Jesus’ miraculous birth didn’t seem that miraculous simply due to the fact that I had heard it so many times.  I never thought about Mary and what must have been the most terrifying, wonderful, mysterious, and intimate experience of her life.  Mary was chosen by God to carry His only and unique Son.  By taking on this tremendous task, she would embark on a journey of daily faith that stretched her and even tainted her in the world’s eyes. 

We see in the second chapter of Luke (2:19) that Mary treasured up God’s words in her as she carried His Word: Jesus Christ…her son, but more importantly, His Son.  Mary faithfully took on social shame for eternal glory because her Father equipped her to be able to bear His Word, both as the baby she expected and as the future Savior of whom she never dreamed. As most of us embark upon the most sanctifying years of our lives (ahem, toddlerdom), Mary must have seen daily evidence of God in her son, a son who needed no correction.  His miraculous birth continued into a miraculous childhood as well.  By the wedding in Cana, Mary already intuitively knew that if she asked her Son, He could and would change water to wine because she already had had a glimpse of His nature.  Thus, by the time of His death, like the disciples, she must have been devastated, stunned to see what would become of her beloved son.

So again, I return to the image of a hand.  Not a tiny one this time, but rather a divine hand that did not spare His own Son….and a mother’s hand bound to release her beloved son.  I see my own two hands and the many things to which I clutch, not the least of which are the children I bore.  Like Mary, I must set my eyes upon the Lord, and I must choose to treasure His word in my heart.  Doing those two things, I open my hands, knowing that, like Mary, I am but a vessel through whom the Lord has blessed to do a piece of His work.  And, like Mary, the only way to let go of my own perceived sovereignty is to rest in His.

by Elsie Iudicello

“The Advent season is a season of waiting, but our whole life is an Advent season, that is, a season of waiting for the last Advent, for the time when there will be a new heaven and a new earth.” ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer

There is no opting out of Advent. Whether you acknowledge it or not, we are all in it. We are waiting. We don’t get to choose how long we wait, but we do get to choose how we wait. We are pummeled daily with stories of sin, decay, ruin and disaster. The temptation to despair, to feel that the sin of the world outweighs all else, looms heavy. We must purposefully remember that nothing will ever be weightier than the act of Jesus enfleshed, bound by skin and sinew, yet fully God, coming to earth and living a sinless life so that He might take the punishment for our sins, so that we might be restored to God and live with hope. When we remember the Advent of the incarnation, we fortify ourselves in this Advent of the second coming. We remember that God’s story is not merely this present moment. 

One simple way to remember Advent is by making use of the centuries old tradition of the Advent wreath, using it to establish a pattern of family worship where truth is proclaimed and upheld over the worldly din around us. Open God’s word with your family. Hear the ancient words foretell the coming of Christ as it falls on ears that have already heard the good news. There is power in remembering together the monumental truth that God always keeps His promises. He is imminently trustworthy. He does what He says He will do and He does it to the letter.  He will deliver. He will redeem and restore. He will come again. We behold and rejoice, joining our voices in song with the echo of countless hallelujahs spanning centuries and resounding from the heavenly realms. We remember, we receive, we rejoice, and we continue to wait with hope for the glorious day when the heavens resound once more, proclaiming His return.  

by Ben Sparrow

"For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace." —John 1:16

Complete undeserved kindness. Total surprising grace. Not just grace—grace upon grace! This is how God deals with us in Christ. Can you comprehend how God—being all powerful, all knowing, all glorious, all sufficient (needing nothing from anyone)—wants to share all that He is and has with us forever? This is the surprise that is held out to us in the gospel—the opportunity to lay down our feeble and faulty attempts at finding joy in the trinkets of this world and to open our hearts and hands to the God who bestows upon us grace upon grace.

God loves to surprise people with his grace. The apostle Paul certainly wasn't looking for Jesus, but Jesus came looking for him. The woman came to the well hoping to go unnoticed, but Christ took notice of her. The shepherds in the field began the night watching their flocks but ended the night by the crib of Jesus, glorifying and praising God. It’s easy to get caught up in the ways of the world. Naturally, we look for joy outside of God.  Naturally, we run from God and hide from the light. But the good news of great joy is this: the light that we’re tempted to run from is the very light that beckons us to draw near. It's a light that wants to bring all that is good—even the presence of God himself—straight into your life. In Christ, God wants you to take hold of the inexpressible joy and the inexhaustible pleasures that he holds out to you.

When Jesus died on the cross, he took the penalty that was rightfully ours and then rose victoriously from the grave, clearing aside all the obstacles in our way to the fullness of God. Our secrets, our shortcomings, our failure to keep his commands cannot keep us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Hear his surprising invitation of grace to you today. Today he extends to you forgiveness. Today he offers transformation. Today he welcomes you into reconciliation and peace. Today he wants to surprise you with grace upon grace.

by Gwen Ray

The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want.

Amidst the weighted darkness and physical pain of sorrow, I am ultimately lacking for nothing because I am in Christ and I have not been abandoned.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters.

The places where I "do life" do not feel peaceful, beautifully lush, or refreshing. I’m anxious, sad, overwhelmed, disoriented, BUT He can still give me rest and renewal because His Spirit dwells within me.

He restores my soul.

There is refreshment even in the darkness and pain...because of WHO God is. I may not see His hand nourishing and renewing, but He promises to meet me. Like a divine balm on my seemingly countless soul-wounds, He restores. Restoration is His loving trade.

He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

I am being continually led for the sake of His glory and plan. There is much mystery along this dark, depleting path, but tucked within the promise of being led, there is the promise of never being alone.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

When my eyes burn with the lonely tears of grief, when I don’t know how to walk or crawl forward in the shadows...even then, I will not fear.

For YOU are with me. Your rod and your staff they comfort me.

As I pass over the thresholds of each room in my house, as I drive, cook, work, study, sing, and weep. You, O my God, are with me. Your rod and your staff are legitimate stability as my days are immersed in fragility. YOU, LORD, are comfort when nothing else is.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows.

The guests that I see at my table are: grief, disillusionment, anxiety, misunderstanding, anguish, exhaustion, loneliness. BUT at the table which the Lord has set, in the presence of these, my enemies, I am poured-out-upon with grace by the GOD who sees me. The cup of my heart overflows knowing that my life’s story is being written by a most loving, wise Author.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

I will, someday, walk away from this dark, feeble season of life and see how GOD my Father was knitting me deeper into the depths and intricacies of His heart. His goodness and mercy will steadily illuminate my days. When I think of heaven and of being in His house, I will rejoice in ways I didn't ever understand before these days of being brought so low.

by Robbie Andrassy

502 years ago, a monk named Martin Luther dug up a timeless truth and in a terrifying era boldly declared it to the world. Luther’s purpose was not to initiate a mass rebellion and protest against the established church of his day, but the Sovereign Lord had a different plan. Luther’s 95 theses became the official “spark” of the Protestant Reformation. But how would we summarize what happened through this monk named Luther and this Reformation movement? In short, the Reformation recovered the truth of the gospel for the common, every day person. But what was this gospel that was salvaged by Luther and shared with the masses?

The gospel of the Reformation was (and continues to be) the all-sufficiency of Jesus Christ. The heartbeat of the Reformation was the good news that by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, a person is forgiven by God and forever declared right before God. Our acceptance with God does not come by performing any special works or paying any special price. It comes through faith in the finished work of Christ and the final price that he paid for our sins on the cross.

When Luther discovered this gospel, there was no turning back. Everything changed for him. Everything he knew before was but dust: penance, purgatory, the authoritative nature of the Pope, etc. With the sufficiency of Christ, all of that could go! Were Luther’s convictions costly? Yes! Did they bring suffering? Absolutely. Did his message of grace offend people? Undoubtedly. But we should not be surprised. We are told that, “The word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing but for those who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18). And so, as we reflect upon the convictions of Luther and the blessing that he was to the Church, let us be sound and well versed in the Scriptures. And let us, with one voice and full conviction, proclaim and defend the truth of the gospel in our day. And if asked to renounce the truth, may we say with Luther,

“I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God. Amen.” ~Martin Luther

by Jaci Volmy

“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.” Galatians 5:24-26

These verses struck my heart. My heart’s desire is to be like Christ. However, my flesh, with its passions and desires, is to be seen in a certain way. Have you ever looked at somebody else and wondered how they do all the things they do, and with such grace? I know I have, and I’ve struggled with feelings of inadequacy. “They must spend more time with Jesus. They must be a better Christian than me. I could never do that, or be that.” And maybe deep down inside, in a hidden place that I don’t like to look at and certainly don’t like others to see, a little seed of discontentment is planted. Unchecked, and fed the occasional reassurance that I am clearly not enough, the seed grows. I begin to nurture it in my heart, and as it grows, I feed it more and more, often until the bitterness is like a taste in my mouth. Sin can be sneaky that way—creeping in slowly in small compromises of character which gradually grows and blooms.

When I fall into comparison, even though I am desiring good and godly traits that I see in others, in those moments it is my selfish desire to be perceived in a certain way that drives me, rather than my love for Christ and my desire to be more like him. How do we know the difference? Because we lose our joy in these comparisons. This is why we must keep in step with the Spirit – walking with him and looking to Jesus weekly, daily, hourly. May we “be found in Him” (Phil.3:9) every morning, every noontime, and every evening. May we always be focusing on the adequacy of Christ, so that in those moments where we slip and begin to fall into comparison and jealousy, we can just look right back up at Jesus and know that we are saved, and that even though—in our brokenness—we are not enough…he always is! May we be acutely aware that Jesus is always enough for us!

by Matt Greenberg

There are many attributes of God. Some of these attributes we share with him—those being his communicable attributes such as love, personality, wisdom, etc. There are some that we don’t share with him—those incommunicable attributes such as being all knowing, all powerful, etc. There’s another attribute that is both shared and unshared—holiness. Holy means to be set apart. In terms of transcendence, we will never be set apart from creation the way God is, but in terms of morality, because of Christ, we can, in part, begin to share in God’s moral character. Yet, ironically, this process begins by recognizing our unholiness.

We see this in the prophet Isaiah. In the first few verses of Isaiah 6, Isaiah is brought into the heavenly throne room of God. He immediately becomes undone at the sight of God in his holy presence. God’s glory is so immense that the train of his robe fills the entire heavenly temple. The very foundation of the temple shakes at the sound of God’s voice. This prompted Isaiah to say, “Woe is me, for I am lost.” Then something amazing happened. Burning coals are touched to Isaiah’s lips, and in the presence of God, his guilt is taken away as he goes through the painful process of sanctification—the process of being set apart in character and conduct—the process of being made holy. This teaches us that we cannot purify our own lives. Yet, “what is impossible with man is possible with God” (Luke 18:27). Jesus bridges the gap between God’s holiness and our unholiness so that by faith in him we might “be holy as God is holy” (1 Peter 1:16).

As we go through the week, let us look in awe once again at the finished work of Christ on the cross and rejoice in how his holy life and holy sacrifice is able to make us holy as well. One day we will share in God’s perfect moral holiness, but until that day, let us boldly approach the throne of grace, so that like Isaiah, we too might be progressively set apart.