Amid the cheerfulness of household gatherings, it is easy to slide into sinful amusements and forget our declared character as Christians. It should not be so, but it is, that our days of feasting are very seldom days of sanctified enjoyment.
Unlike most people, I do not feel much Dickensian nostalgia at Christmastime. The holiday fell just a few days after my father died early in my childhood, and all my memories of the season are darkened by the shadow of that sadness.
One of the messages that we learn from the Christmas story is that of peace. While God might appear overwhelming at times, He always wants to give us the assurance that with Him, peace reigns, even in the announcement of His Son’s birth.
Have you ever seen a child who cannot find his mother in a crowd? Although she may be out of sight, the little tyke may still hear her voice. It is almost as though his inner radar scans the sounds around him, looking for that one familiar tone.
The great apostle Paul was just like you and me. He had a love for God blended with feet of clay. Great passion . . . and great weakness. The longer I thought about this blend, the more evidence emerged from Scripture to support it.
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