Articles & Posts
The Turn Out
Lori and I just celebrated our 34 years of marriage. I remember when we were dating and occasionally drove up the mountain road to Chantry Flats in the San Gabriel Mountains that bordered our hometown. In a few quick miles there were several turn outs that provided a perch to view the shimmering evening lights of LA. We’d go up there to pray over the city! Once we were cruising the twisty road and came up behind an older car dawdling up the grade piloted by an older couple - I was 22, they had to be in their 80’s. Once I got past the frustration of their slow pace bottlenecking a growing line of impatient road hacks I noticed how close Gram and Gramps were sitting. They were like two peas in a pod (do I sound like Forest Gump?), tight as could be right up alongside one another. In those days it was common for a car’s front seat to be a bench seat and the absence of mandatory seat belt laws made it easy to snuggle while you drove. He had one hand on the wheel and the other around her shoulder. We were mesmerized by an old married couple being so in love… after decades! Following them for a couple of miles I think a little cynicism I had about marriage was being dismantled by this pair of silver-haired lovers. Deeper than my cynicism was a latent desire for a marital intimacy and relationship that would thrive over the decades. Decades! I knew that someday, with someone, I’d say something along the lines of “till death do us part”, but long loving marriages weren’t a prominent theme in my world, and besides, the rapture was due in the next year or two making any long term commitment a mute point. Until that moment I don’t think I ever considered a long loving ever-increasing intimate marriage a very real possibility. Lori and I were captivated by the untold love story putzing along in front of us. When they pulled over into a familiar turn out, we couldn’t help but pull in right alongside of them. There they sat enjoying the city lights, there we sat enjoying them and began to believe and hope for ourselves. At the time I said to myself and then out loud, that’s what I want… I want to be that couple at that age… in this turn out, very much in love. On many occasions since I’ve remembered that couple. 34 years into a marriage I hope lasts for seventy I think we have an incredible marriage... but, I know there’s so much more for us to experience, enjoy, offer and be, as husband and wife. Many times I’ve said to Lori, “I cannot wait till we’ve been married for 50 years… by then I will have become more the man who loves you as God intended you to be loved.” We’re closing in on that older couple we saw 36 years ago, and I'm no longer a cynic. I know firsthand that a long lasting loving intimate marriage is possible! It is good! If you see us pulled over in a turn out, pull up alongside, but hey, don’t flash the lights… we’re praying! - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Louder!
I’m listening to the live version of “Our God Reigns” * cranked as high as my system will go… and it is not loud enough! Louder! Louder! I’ve invited the angelic armies to join me in worship… for the Rockies to raise their voice, for rocks and trees…for all of Creation to join the chorus…and it’s still not loud enough! I’ve listened to it three times now and am in tears. I am incapable of giving God the praise He is due. Worthy of. Justly deserves. Perhaps that’s my greatest short coming… worshipping Him fully. I mean it… there are so many things I fall short of, yet it may be that none is graver than curbing my full heart’s adulation. I know grace, I know I’m forgiven, cleansed, His, the beloved… and I know, I know… but in this moment of adoration I simply cannot express all that’s in my heart to Him... and it is that which I most want to do! I fall silent. The song ends with the live audience applauding… and it is not loud enough, not long enough. Louder! Louder! - Craig • The Chris Tomlin, Charlie Hall, Dave Crowder version on the album Everything Glorious
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Craig McConnell
Sulking
“It is the ability to choose which makes us human.” - Author Unknown Some huge part of what it means to be human is our ability to choose. Our depravity, woundedness, glory and our transformation are all seen in the choices we make. Some part of me was sulking over the constancy of choice that fills my every day. How many choices do we make in a single day? Is there no rest? A little break... a couple of passes... you know, like a "snow" day? Good over evil, a serving of vegetables over the old-fashioned glazed donut, listening versus talking, saving instead of spending, stillness over distraction, choosing to love instead of dis-engaging, smiling, reading over the boob-tube, life over death, to worship God rather than euphoria, assume their good heart, serve, courage verses cowardice… (on and on it goes!) Then I read a column by Dennis Prager in which he observed, Every change for good must be constantly renewed, but changes for the worse are often permanent. Goodness must be fought for every day, over and over… It caught my attention as being true. I want change! I want to change! But often I want it to be easy… instant… entirely of God and requiring nothing of “Me” (note my hiding behind a pseudo-spirituality). Our lesser choices seem to have an enduring quality that our more noble choices lack. My choice to rage in hidden bitterness toward a cruel and former friend doesn’t seem to require the constant renewal, the regular reaffirmation that the choice to forgive, reconcile and love does. The choice to furiously follow God through the day requires a volitional strength and constancy that an extended spiritual malaise doesn’t. Holiness and character displays itself in the thousand different choices I make each day. And there are times I am weary from the choices. And then Paul speaks, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." - Galatians I will not give up! “Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely." - Author Unknown - Craig
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Craig McConnell
A Valentine's Day Story
While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. "Why this waste?" they asked. "This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor." Aware of this, Jesus said to them, "Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her" (Matthew 26:6-13) Often as I move through my day, trying to navigate the whirlpools of this world, the relational, spiritual and social whitewater, I will often turn to Jesus in my heart and ask, "What do I need to do, Lord?" My question is usually fueled by some twist or turn I don't know how to handle - some test or trial, some oncoming battle. Life as usual. His response is nearly always, "Love me." That's it? Love you? That's it. That is what is most needed. For when I love God, my whole being is re-oriented, re-aligned, healed. When I love God, the internal effects are almost immediate; they are often profound. I can't hold onto that grudge, not while I am loving God with "all that is within me." I can't covet or worry or fear. When I love God, really, it changes everything. And this is why he said, start here. This is core. Love me.
John Eldredge
Be My Valentine!
Growing up, I loved Valentine’s Day! I liked decorating a shoe box to hold my classmates mandatory valentine’s that were sure to come during the party held at school that afternoon. I loved coming in from recess and finding a pretty napkin with a heart shaped cookie on it. (These were the days before mention of peanut allergies, wheat allergies, dairy allergies, or a personal conviction against holidays.) It was a welcome break from the monotony of the normal school day. Hooray! When I would get home from school, my mom would have made a special dessert – something pink and pretty. And on my bed would be a card from her – and a little gift; like a new pair of socks or a pretty pen. Her card would have shimmer to it. I loved the sparkly writing and the beauty of her handwriting. “I love you!” – Mom. My sons call Valentine’s Day “Single Awareness Day” and my husband hates the pressure to come through with some record breaking day of romantic bliss. I don’t care. I still love it. When my sons were in grade school I would go ALL OUT decorating for it the night before while they slept. We’re talking large red cupids, red, pink and white hearts – and yes streamers! Yes to the pretty dessert and valentine’s cards. And pink breakfasts. Ok, was I trying to recapture something here from my childhood. Yes. But sooo? I don’t like so much going out to dinner with John on Happy Heart Day, though. I feel the pressure to be amazing and beautiful and sit up straight and hold my knife and fork just so and it’s kind of distracting. And detracting. For the past few years, John and I either eat something special at home (with attendant sons) or go out on another night! But back to loving Valentine’s Day. Back to embracing the pink and the doilies and the heart shaped everything…. To me, it’s a day to celebrate all those I love. Yes, my husband. Absolutely my children. But my wonderful girlfriends too. With the silly joy of it! The sparkly shimmer of it! Hooray for Love! I’ve wanted to have an all girls Valentine’s Day Party for so long. Sadly, it’s a busy time of year and the desire remains unfulfilled. But it would be very schmaltzy and rosy and delicious and girly. And we would laugh and eat and drink and be merry and worship. Worship our Truest Valentine. Worship Love Himself. Worship Jesus. Thank Him for pursuing us, for choosing us, for romancing us, for loving us. So all by myself, I am going to do that part at least. We could all do that part! And eat something pink! And heart shaped. Happy Valentine’s Day! You are so very loved. XOX
Stasi Eldredge
My Story: Act III, Scene I
It was evening. I was eight, my younger brothers and sisters had just been put to bed. Mom and dad wanted to talk with me alone in the family room of our home. It was then that time stopped; winter began; and the earth’s rotation was altered; Santa was exposed; never again were there “blue moons” or innocent warm summer days lying on the grass imagining shapes, characters and creatures in the billowy clouds above. The neighbor’s dog became mean, my younger “brothers” and “sisters” weren’t really brothers and sisters… my family became opaque, a faded hue, less real.My bedroom became smaller and now there were nightly burglars and malevolent strangers perusing my windows, terrorizing me, waiting for the opportunity to do me harm. It was that evening I learned of a father who died, and it was then that something in me died as my mom had. My father was drafted and killed in the Korean Conflict. My mom was 21, I was three months, 14 days old. The concussion, the trauma of God allowing her lover, a fine and godly man die left her lifeless… about 6 rows from the front, on the left, in a pew alone crying most every Sunday. She remarried. A retired naval officer became my dad; he adopted me and changed my name from McConnell to Barnard. I was too young to remember any of this and the secret was neatly kept until the evening I was called into the family room. There I was told, “Craig…your dad isn’t your father. Your father was killed in a war when you were born. I married your dad when you were little…and he loves you very much”. And for this little guy all the adventures of boyhood in our Southern California baby boomer neighborhood were indelibly changed. It is inevitable. We’re all wounded in some way. (To think you aren’t is to scoff at the beauty of Eden, the heart of God and the violation that sin is.) The scar of our wounds endure and with them some message that becomes the script by which we live. As a young boy the first draft of my script was, “I’m different. Everyone else has a father… There is something wrong with me!” As life unfolds the message goes through numerous edits while staying true to the theme. The second edit came in my adolescence. Living disoriented with the pain and loneliness of not having my “real” father coupled with a variety of insecurities centered on the abiding question, “What’s wrong with Me”, and a culturally affirmed rebelliousness it was pretty easy to provoke my dad, the 20 plus year naval veteran. And so, having lit his fuse, at the intersection of the hall and his bedroom, he grabbed me, shook me and for the first of several times told me, “You are nothing but a seagull. All you’re good for is sitting, squawking and shitting”. A Navy “Lifer” knows a seagull when he sees one. No significant re-edits were needed following this. I have absolutely nothing to offer… I sit, squawk and shit. Period. That script held up well…for decades. (I will continue the story, but let me ask... Do you know your wound? What script/message have you been given with it? Could it be that there is another script for us to live by? Where and how do we find out?) - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Matters of the Minor and the Major
“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” Martin Luther King, Jr. John and I just returned from the first half – first leg, if you will, of our Love and War tour. And what an honor. Really. To speak about things that matter. Our marriages. Our hearts. Our God. JESUS. And to have the opportunity to meet so many of my brothers and sisters this side of Heaven! To look into their eyes and see the life of Jesus or the hunger for Jesus. Desperate hearts. Grateful hearts. Hopeful hearts. The hearts of men and women engaged in the most important battle on earth. Fighting for their spouse, their children, their friends, their own hearts…fighting with God for the good. For what matters. Our first stop was Abilene, Texas! Once we landed, we saw a large private jet being loaded with boxes upon boxes. Then we saw many pairs of new crutches going onto the plane. That’s when we guessed the plane was headed to Haiti. We were right. We got home late yesterday afternoon and we weren’t home long before our youngest son, Luke asked permission to go out. He wanted to go to a concert given by a friend at a local coffee shop. They were taking donations; raising money for a ministry in Uganda that helps to rescue women and girls being trafficked in the sex trade. Yes, Luke. You bet. You can go. Money’s in my wallet. Drive safe. I am being struck again by the major and minor themes of life. Suffering. Anguish. Pain. Death. Destruction. The enemy. Yes, true enough and strong. But the minor theme. My eyes are opened again to Mercy. Generosity. Healing. Love. Forgiveness. Hope. Tenderness. Life. Resurrection. Jesus. The major theme. Love conquers all. Life conquers death. Jesus conquered the enemy. We are more than conquerors in Him. What a great gift to be alive in Christ, to have his life and his love pour through us, to live for Him, to offer Jesus. What an amazing thing it is to live a life that matters.
Stasi Eldredge
deep breath
It's Sunday. Stasi and I were just sitting in my office at home, talking about the fact that this is the week we start the Love and War Tour. I said, "Okay. Anything funky between us this week," (I was already feeling the funkiness, the "you don't really like me" stuff), "anything that feels weird is NOT true. It's not us. Anything that feels like diminishment this week, or accusation, is NOT true. This is a Tour week." She nodded, sighed. We both shared a sober look. Moments earlier we were checking email, and then I suggested we watch the trailer for the new HBO special on WWII in the South Pacific. It was, as those sights and sounds go, sobering. Now I'm realizing it wasn't coincidence. We wrote Love and War to rescue hearts and lives and homes and all that follows when a heart and life and home is rescued. To say we are hitting the road this week makes it sound like "just another conference." We can even get lulled into that ourselves. But it is not. This is the Kingdom of God, advancing in a war-torn world. It is beauty and life and love and hope breaking forth. I hope you'll join us. We'll be in Abilene, Austin, Orange County and Seattle this week. Tulsa, Omaha, St Louis and Charlotte in February. You can learn more and grab the cheap tickets at www.loveandwar.net. Oh, two things: Tell your family and friends! Help spread the love. And would you pray for us? After all, Love and War is far more than a cute title. Thanks!!
John Eldredge
Matador
While chatting on Facebook with my friend David Schloske I was perusing his “Home” page and was captured by his favorite quote. I read it three times. It’s great! "There are many people who think they want to be matadors, only to find themselves in the ring with 2,000 pounds of bull bearing down on them, and then discover that what they really wanted was to wear the tight pants and hear the crowd roar". - Terry Pearce "Love All Serve All" There are times our desires are fulfilled resulting in a little more clarity about that which we more deeply yearn for. There are things we hope for, and have absolutely no idea what comes with it. I have experienced both in spades. How about you? - Craig
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Craig McConnell
January 2010
I’m caught in the tension between love and war, between life and death. John and I just returned from spending four restful days together, unplugged from the demands of our world, replenishing our hearts in the beauty and love of God and the delightful companionship of each other. It was good. It was very good. We drove to our destination and once very close, we passed a horrible accident on the other side of the road. People had been killed. Bodies were being draped with whatever motorists could find to cover their dignity. One woman crouched next to an accident victim and held their lifeless hand. Walking home from a lovely dinner one evening, we passed a window where a woman’s anguished sobs could clearly be heard. Before we passed, the sorrow turned to rage and the sound of something breakable crashing was loud. We could easily picture the scene as we stopped to listen and to pray. Did we need to intervene? While away, an earthquake struck Haiti. You know about this. Once home, we learned the good news that a friend’s pursuit of a woman long prayed for had gone well! Then that the next day this same friend learned his brother had a brain aneurysm. I am rejoicing now over the news that a woman’s husband who works for Compassion has been rescued alive and well from an elevator shaft in the collapsed hotel M in Haiti. I wept at the news. And I am waiting for news of another. Waiting. Praying. Five days ago I passed four bodies being covered by white sheets and it shook me to the core. Today I see images from Haiti and hear incomprehensable numbers of 50,000 dead and I am stunned beyond knowing. Love and War is more than the title of a book on marriage. It describes the life we find ourselves living. The battle is one of Life and Death. Physically. Spiritually. We are surrounded by it. We must be changed by it. Engage with it. I am entering into this new year soberly. Walk with me Jesus. Walk with us. Live your LIFE through us and bring yourself to our aching fellow human beings near and far. How we need you.
Stasi Eldredge
Road Warriors
I just walked into our home having driven home from LA after a couple of weeks with our family and friends over the holidays.Yes, that’s me in my Santa accoutrements with my numero uno “helper”. Lori stayed in LA for some extended time with friends giving me the gift of a two day drive. I spent much of the drive silent. I’m always amazed how much God has to say if I am merely quiet. "We live in a noisy, busy world… We have become a people with an aversion to quiet and an uneasiness with being alone." – Jean Fleming "Be still, and know that I am God”. – Psalm 46:10 I was silent, he was present. The entire drive seemed as though I was “NASCAR-ing” across the Mojave, canyon lands of Utah and the mega-Rockies with my best friend – who happened to be The God of All Creation! I drove, he sat next to me in passenger seat with one foot raised up on the dash and an elbow hanging out the window. Two road warriors spending a couple of days on a long drive free associating, asking one another questions, pondering the deep questions of life, drinking in the scenery and laughing together over all the unique oddities of the Inter-State Nation. Early on I was profoundly convicted of being a poor lover… both of Him and so many others. The faces and wounds of those I hate and have yet to forgive popped up. Loving others authentically, strongly, wisely and from the heart is the high bar we’re called to live and I fall far short. Short short. I have wounded many by overt dismissal or disengaged and cowardly withholding of compassion. My need for repentance, forgiveness and a deeper walk with Christ surfaced over miles of open highway. (The issues here will be a focused theme of God’s work in me this year for sure!) One truck stop and an In-And-Out Burger later* there came a transition. What I became aware of was the intensity of my desire to be a better man… to love others courageously as I was intended… and as they were meant to be! The repentance, sorrow, conviction and the horror of how I can live didn’t push me into the shaft of condemnation, self loathing and shame. Instead the pierced hand of my travel mate, the Sovereign Just Savior, patted me on the knee, then the shoulder as he pivoted and turned looking at me and speaking words of forgiveness that settled the issue... and offered the invitation to all that’s needed to love/live well. About that time we cranked some tunes by Tom Petty, Ashley Cleveland, Stones, Alan Jackson, Tim McGraw, Foghat and Jeff Beck. There is, for me, at times, a grace in loud music. We were two bobble-heads enjoying one another at 85 MPH. streaking across Utah. The desert and canyon lands of the West are drop-to-your–knees beautiful. Is beauty definitionally indescribable? Whether it’s nature, a person, music/art… I find myself lifted by the hope/reassurance, joy of beauty. I’m more alive, more passionate and thinking more clearly in the presence of beauty than I am in homey gray hues of the foggy world that often surrounds me. The epic views of terracotta mesas, plateaus, deeply cut river canyons, red clay cliffs and formations fostered visions of castles and fortresses, cowboys and Indians… of some ancient and future life. I repeatedly slowed down or pulled into a lofty vista point to gaze… and then to feel, in the same moment – very small/finite and yet very vital in the mythic story of God. I was silent, but all of nature was grousing. The artic wind was howling and I’m certain all the rock massives and sentinels were crying out… groaning for that yet-to-come future time when we shall be liberated from bondage to decay and brought into the glorious and full redemption and freedom of God (Romans 8). I was quiet, all of nature was singing. Driving for hours through the dramatic trophies of God’s power and craft we listened to the sweeping sound tracks that fit the country – Out of Africa, The Mission, Dances with Wolves. It was eternal! Woven in and out of the drive I found myself whispering prayers, praise, adoration and worship softly to God. These were tender and intimate moments - from the heart, deeply loving. Then I would come around some bend to a whole new dramatic vista and would begin shouting (screaming) out the testimonies and confessions of my heart… It was a rebel yell of glorious and wild praise. In a mile or so silence would return, and we road warriors would continue the communion and joy of being together… chatting,it would seem, about all things important and a few not so. "God was pleased to pour into my soul a great spirit of supplication, and a sense of His free, distinguishing mercies so filled me with love, humility, and joy and holy confusion that I could at last only pour out my heart before Him in an awful silence. I was so full that I could not well speak.” - George Whitefield And so it is. – Craig McConnell * When you travel calories, carbs, fats and sugar don’t count… right?
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Craig McConnell
The Theme of the New Year
Every year, on New year's Day, I try and take some time to be with God, and ask him a few questions. First thing I'll do is sanctify the coming year to Jesus. I'll pray to consecrate every day and every moment of the new year; I'll consecrate all my desires, plans, and even my calendar to him. I know too well how the pressures and demands and crises rush in to steal the days. I also know that my desires are not always what God has for me, and I don't want to rush on making plans outside of his. So, right at the start, I give the year to God. I devote it to him, dedicate it to him, consecrate it. And then, I'll ask him a question: "Jesus, what is the theme of this year?" This has proven really helpful to me, a sort of anchor, a guiding light that I return to over and over through the year. Often, I'll be starting a new journal around the first of January, and I'll write the theme of the new year on the first page, so that I see it every time I open the journal. This year, 2009, Jesus gave to me the theme of "Love." It has proven true, and been a rescue to me a hundred and one times through the year. A deeper walk of Love, a deeper experience of Love. Sometimes it was about loving others, and the theme helped me in my relationships. Sometimes it would be about the love of God for me, how I need more of it, to receive it, dwell in it. Sometimes it was about inner healing, replacing the deep things that drive me (like fear and striving) with Love. Every time I saw the theme, it was a re-orientation for me. Bringing me back to center, to what God was most especially doing this year in me. So, I'm excited about tomorrow. I can't wait to hear what Jesus has for me in 2010. I thought you'd like to do the same; see what he has for you!!
John Eldredge
A Roller Coaster
I truly appreciate all the words and prayers that have come since I shared my diagnosis in the last blog. Thank you so much! After learning of the Leukemia I initially experienced waves of shock/surprise, fear and anxiety. But as with many disrupting events in life those expected emotions were mingled with the unexpected. I remember as a young boy standing in line to ride the rickety old wooden roller coaster on the Santa Cruz Boardwalk… it was named “Certain Death”, “Giant Dipper”, “Bone Crusher” or some other frightening moniker. As the line shuffled slowly forward to the sound of car loads of screaming riders I became more and more frightened… and excited. Something big, life threatening and adventurous awaited me. I was scared to death and pulsing with excitement as well. Similar to that, in the first season of facing cancer I also had a sense of exhilaration that I had just stepped into some life and death adventure with stakes higher than anyone ever chooses. I knew God was present and to be found. I knew, though I felt very alone, I was not alone. I knew I was in for an epic ride… and there actually is something very sobering and keenly thrilling about that. Faith in God and a gripping terror were strange bedfellows for a season. Early on I asked myself the question, “What has really changed with my diagnosis of Leukemia?’ My first response was “Everything!!!”. Every moment is now colored by my need of God, the desire to live, the awareness of some dastardly disease lurking in my body, there’s a new level of lies from the adversary. There’s the throbbing desire to live well, a crisper appreciation and love of family and friends. Some relationships seem to be changing; some seem to have withdrawn a bit… as if I have kooties, or relate to me from a posture of denial as if I haven’t been diagnosed with anything. Then there are a few, who only a couple of months ago were practically strangers to me, I have turned to late at night with the need to be listened to or to simply be with over the phone. Free reading books on history have been replaced with books on nutrition, detoxing, exercise and coffee enemas. Tears flow more often from the music I listen to. My prayers are probably more of what I always wanted prayer to be like but never experienced. I hold Lori a little tighter and gaze a little longer into my daughter’s eyes. The word hope seems to have bright flashing lights on it I hadn’t ever noticed before…. it seems like everything has changed. My second response was… “very little” has really changed. I’m terminal, mortal? Actually that has always been true. I’m destined to die at some point whether it be in the womb, in combat at the age of 23, in an accident at 36 or in bed at 92. What’s new is that this reality is now reality… ever present. As it has always been, my life is in God’s hands… yeah I’ve got leukemia… but I could live another 30 years or choke on a chicken bone next Thursday. My every breath comes from the Lord. Each and every breath. I realize that more deeply now but it’s always been true. There’s something sobering and keenly thrilling about that. Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. - Psalm 90:12 – Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
The Nativity – John Donne Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb, Now leaves his well-beloved imprisonment, There he hath made himself to his intent Weak enough, now into our world to come; But oh, for thee, for him, that th’inn no room? Yet lay him in this stall, and from the Orient, Stars, and wisemen will travel to prevent Th’effect of Herod’s jealous general doom. Seest thou, my soul, with thy faith’s eyes, how he Which fills all place, yet none holds him doth lie? Was not his pity towards thee wondrous high That would have need to be pitied by thee? Kiss him, and with him into Egypt go, With his kind mother, who partakes thy woe. The above is one stanza of John Donne’s longer poem detailing the mysterious glory of our faith. I love it. I wanted to share it with you and one more reading that has captured me this Advent. This one is from “Watch for the Light” a book of readings for Advent and Christmas. “Perfect love, the apostle John writes, casts out fear. So when God’s angel broke the good news of the Savior’s birth to the cowering shepherds of Bethlehem, “Fear not” was more than in instruction for them to get up off the ground and stop shielding their frightened faces. It was a declaration of war on fear. “ – Johann Christoph Arnold Wow. It is Christmas Eve eve. The world, my world is settling down in a quietness of still expectancy. Settling down but not stopping. There is no cease fire from pain into the lives of those around us, next to us. Not for the world, not for those we love and not for us. And yet, it is exactly into this life, this pain, this glory, this mess that Jesus came with his holy interruption and interrupts us still. There is hope. Pain and sorrow and grief are not the truest thing. There is hope. There is life. There is JESUS! Jesus did come. He is coming again. He will come for us today. He is our hope. He is our Love. He is perfect. And perfect love casts out all fear. I want to wish you a Merry Christmas and everything good and holy and hope filled and hope fulfilled that that means! Jesus has you and is very near. Fear not. And cheers. And halleluiah! And let Heaven and Nature Sing! Hoorah!
Stasi Eldredge
The Utterly Unique Gift of Christmas
I love singing Christmas carols. I love what their words remind me of. Just this morning Stasi was singing a few refrains from O Holy Night and it absolutely grabbed me: A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices Something deep in my spirit said, O yes, dear Jesus, we need hope. Come for this weary world. Actually, this world is more than weary. This world is coming apart at the seams. I do not refer to the wars, the disease, the economic chaos, the human trafficking. These tragedies are blatant. Something deeper is unraveling. I wonder if you’ve felt it, too. There is a barrenness of spirit, a desolation creeping across the earth. It is the root of these outbreaks. The fabric of social life is rending, because the fabric of the human spirit is nearly worn through. You can see this in many ways. Take the explosion of Facebook – it is a grasp to stay connected. But it falls short of true community; there is no human touch, no face-to-face. Everyone is getting tattoos – they are a grasp at permanence and self identity. But they are skin deep. We know we lack substance, and we grasp for it. Into this great ache has come the latest fashion: Social concern. We know the world is weary, so we rally now to lend a helping hand. Oprah, Bill Gates, Bono – if you want to be thought well of these days, you have a cause. Toms shoes. Fair trade. Shrink your carbon footprint. Social concern is in, its hip. And it will not work. This is not the message of Christmas. God didn’t offer the shepherds a grant for their micro economics. He didn’t offer the little outcast family an apartment. He offered them a savior. He offered them himself. And with him, a kingdom. There is simply no other way to save this weary, unraveling world. Now here is my concern – it is easier to offer social consciousness and environmental responsibility than it is to offer Jesus. I am much more inclined to offer my neighbor a helping hand than tell him he needs Jesus Christ. When I get to chatting with strangers, I’d much rather they know I give to support AIDS relief in Africa than that I am a Christian author. Social concern is cool; Jesus is majorly disruptive. Now the socially concerned are mad at me. “The Bible commands us to care for the earth! To care for the poor and the oppressed!” Yes, it does. But let me ask: What is the unique contribution of Christianity to this weary world? It is obviously not social concern. It is Jesus and his kingdom. That is why the old hymn says, “Joy to the world! The Lord is come! Let earth receive her King.” No receiving of the King, no joy for the world. Now, of course we offer help. Of course we lend a hand. But Jesus said that cup of cold water is offered “in My name.” Without Jesus, social concern will not rescue this unraveling world, for it cannot address this barrenness of spirit. As C.S. Lewis said, “God cannot give us happiness apart from himself because it does not exist. There is no such thing.” Think again about the gift in the manger. God saw what the world most desperately needed, and what he chose to give us was…Himself. To care for the world is to offer Jesus Christ. This is the message of Christmas. “Let every heart, prepare him room.” Then heaven and nature will sing. Then will break the new and glorious morn. O, may it come.
John Eldredge
Today's The Day!
Well, Stasi and I have been up for most of the night. Not because of excitement (today is a big day!). Not because we ate too many bratwurst (they were really good, especially with mustard). The reason was attack. The spiritual warfare in our home and bedroom last night was palpable. You could feel the presence of evil. After a few rounds of prayer, we did get to sleep. Sometime after 3am. It's a compliment, really, in a back-handed way. The enemy is freaking out. And well he should be. Well he should be. Today is the official launch of Love and War! Stasi and I wrote the book in the spirit of, "What would we say to help other couples find their way through the minefields of marriage to something really beautiful together?" This is not a book of principles. We do not present ourselves as marriage "experts." I don't enjoy those kinds of books, frankly. This is a field report from a man and woman, both very human, of what we have learned. We think you're going to LOVE it! We KNOW it's going to be very helpful! So we hope you'll grab a copy for yourself, and give a dozen to couples you know for Christmas. I mean, what better gift? "Here is hope and healing and joy and a battle plan for your marriage. Things will never be the same!" That is why the enemy is freaking out :) O, and don't forget to join us tonight for the webcast! 7pm Mountain Time. Log on at http://livestream.com/WaterBrookMultnomah. Let's go save some lives!
John Eldredge