He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this. (Isaiah 9:7)
Not through political activism.
Not through military strength.
Not through personal charisma.
Not through any power of man.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.
Chew on that today, Beloved of God.
Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)
Tomorrow is Christmas Day. A day when we celebrate peace on Earth. A day that can be, ironically, one of the most hectic and stressful of the year. For some of you, tomorrow will be a reminder of why you see your family only a few times a year. Others might know the awkwardness of being the extra wheel at someone else’s gathering, or the pain of being alone.
Except you’re not.
Remember, he is the Prince of Peace.
Peace between you and God.
Peace that passes all understanding.
Peace that allows the Lord of the universe to make his home in your heart.
Peace with your freakish relatives.
Peace within the tumult of your own heart.
Embrace the baby, Beloved.
Celebrate this Prince who brings you peace.
Everlasting Father, (Isaiah 9:6).
I hope you have a great dad. I hope he is loving and strong and gentle and a daily blessing to your life. I hope this, not only to make those family Christmas dinners a little less awkward, but because it will give you a better picture of God. You see, God presents himself to us in many ways through Scripture, but I think the one that hangs most people up is the image of a father. It can be difficult to see God as loving and caring if your earthly father was cold, distant, or absent altogether.
Look, this is not the time or space to get all psychological, but as we close in on Christmas I need to point something out. Whatever your earthly dad does well, your heavenly father does even better. Wherever your earthly dad messes up, your heavenly father gets it right. He is the perfection we all fall short of. He is the goal we can never quite attain. He will always be there to cheer you when you win, and comfort you when you lose. His advice will always be perfect, and his discipline will always be just. He will come to all your ball games, all your dance recitals, all your spelling bees. He will be there at the hospital bed and at the wedding altar.
You will always be his beloved child.
Always, as in Everlasting.
Walk in his love today.
Mighty God, (Isaiah 9:6)
As we move toward Christmas week, all sorts of emotions are getting stirred up. Although we would like to say we are focused strictly on the birth of our Savior, the fact is this can be a really crazy time. Perhaps you are rushing to wrap—or get—or think of—those last gifts. Maybe you are frantically trying to get ready to travel—tickets, luggage, ohnowhatdowedowiththedogwhilewe’regone. Could be you’re receiving guests into your nightmare of a house—good luck with that.
Or you’re moving.
Or you have someone you love in the hospital.
Or you’re broke.
Or things are just falling apart.
Given all that, I feel blessed that you’ve taken the time to read this. Since you have, make the most of the moment. Let the words soak in:
He is Mighty God.
Read it again. Go on.
This King we serve, this Lord we love, this Savior we celebrate is fully capable of meeting the challenges of your day, be they mundane or monstrous.
And he will.
Because you are his beloved.
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, (Isaiah 9:6)
There can be a lot in a name. My name is Michael, which means, “Who is like God?” I like that—it’s a constant reminder of the answer…Nobody. When I begin to get a little too big for my proverbial britches, my very name brings me back to Earth.
Jesus has been given the name Wonderful Counselor. Think about it—what does a counselor do? A good counselor does three things—listen deeply, see to the heart of the issue, and offer wisdom. So, we serve a God who actually listens to us—listens deeply. He doesn’t just pretend to listen to you while he is mentally planning out his day, the way I might. He actually considers every word you speak—and those you don’t.
Jesus also sees to the heart of your issue—after all, he knows you better than you do—remember Psalm 139? You couldn’t hide the truth from him if you tried, so knock it off already.
Wisdom? Uh…do I need to point out that his words are the very words of God? Literally? Yeah, worth listening to.
You, Beloved, have a Wonderful Counselor. Walk in his wisdom today.
…and the government will be on his shoulders. (Isaiah 9:6)
Here’s the thing with governments—they’re generally made up of people. And, well, I hate to tell you this, but people tend toward selfishness and greed.
I just heard a bubble burst…sorry.
Democracy works, except when the people are ignorant, selfish, and lazy.
Oh.
Same holds true for Communism, republics, feudal societies, even theocracies. On paper, they look great. It’s when you add the people that things go winky.
Frankly, the best, strongest, most efficient form of government is a benevolent dictatorship. The problem, of course, is that you can guarantee the dictator part, but not the benevolent bit.
Yet.
But the day will come when we will have an absolute monarch, a king of kings, who will rule with complete authority over all nations. His reign will be perfect, unhampered by greed, unsullied by sin. He will know what’s best, want what’s best, do what’s best.
He will be what’s best.
Even so, come Lord Jesus.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned. (Isaiah 9:2).
The metaphor of light has been around for so long we’ve become numb to it.
See if you can unnumb (denumb?) yourself a bit.
Imagine the darkest place, the blackest night you have ever experienced.
Multiply it by a factor of infinity.
A blackness so complete it fills you, seeping in through your pores…crushing… suffocating. It’s every nightmare, every horror coalesced and distilled into a pure, inky nothing that will consume you.
That has consumed you.
Then…a light. It’s small at first, like a candle’s flame. Even so, the darkness recoils from it; hope rushes in to fill the space. The light grows and spreads until it fills you—or did it draw you into itself?
Hard to tell.
The nightmare, the horror, the emptiness are revealed as fluff and nonsense by the glory of the light.
Yeah, yeah, I know; the imagery is as old as time. But…
It’s true, you know.
He’s coming, Beloved.
Happy Monday.
…those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint (Isaiah 40:31).
I have, on occasion, taken verses a bit too literally.
Once upon a time, I ran a marathon. Actually, that’s not quite accurate; I ran part of a marathon and hobbled the rest. This verse kept running through my mind.
My hope was in the Lord.
And yet…
My strength was depleted.
Though I was sore, I did not soar.
I ran, and grew quite weary.
I walked, and was faint.
I crawled, and was blistered.
So maybe God wasn’t talking about marathon running. Maybe he was talking about our spiritual life.
And yet…
Sometimes I feel like my spiritual life is a lot like that marathon. The pressures crowd in on me from every side, and I can’t find peace. My hope is in him, but I just feel weak and low and tired and afraid. It doesn’t look like my hopes will ever be made real.
I’m sure you never feel this way—thanks for putting up with my dysfunction.
As I write this, my mind goes to two places—painful and awkward, but that’s how my brain works. First, I think of yesterday’s verse: Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him. My hope cannot be based in my circumstances; it must be based in God’s character. Second, I have to realize that this race is not over yet. I may feel like I’m about to drop, but I haven’t.
Does that resonate with you, even a little? Because I hate to feel alone.
You feel like you’re about to drop, but you haven’t.
By his grace, you keep putting one foot in front of the other.
And that is our hope.
As I think about it, I remember the end of that marathon. After doing the death crawl for several eternities, I reached the 25 mile marker.
1.2 miles to go.
I prayed that God would give me the strength to finish at a run…and he did.
I ran the end of the race.
One might even say that I soared…but one would be wildly mistaken.
Still, I finished strong in that race.
And I will finish strong in this race.
And so will you, Beloved—that’s a promise.
Everlasting Father, (Isaiah 9:6).
I hope you have a great dad. I hope he is loving and strong and gentle and a daily blessing to your life. I hope this, not only to make those family Christmas dinners a little less awkward, but because it will give you a better picture of God. You see, God presents himself to us in many ways through Scripture, but I think the one that hangs most people up is the image of a father. It can be difficult to see God as loving and caring if your earthly father was cold, distant, or absent altogether.
Look, this is not the time or space to get all psychological, but as we close in on Christmas I need to point something out. Whatever your earthly dad does well, your heavenly father does even better. Wherever your earthly dad messes up, your heavenly father gets it right. He is the perfection we all fall short of. He is the goal we can never quite attain. He will always be there to cheer you when you win, and comfort you when you lose. His advice will always be perfect, and his discipline will always be just. He will come to all your ball games, all your dance recitals, all your spelling bees. He will be there at the hospital bed and at the wedding altar.
He will always love you.
Always, as in Everlasting.
Walk in his love this Christmas Eve.
…Mighty God, (Isaiah 9:6)
As we move into Christmas week, all sorts of emotions are getting stirred up. Although we would like to say we are focused strictly on the birth of our Savior, the fact is this can be a really crazy week. Perhaps you are rushing to wrap—or get—or think of—those last gifts. Maybe you are frantically trying to get ready to travel—tickets, luggage, ohnowhatdowedowiththedogwhilewe’regone. Could be you’re receiving guests into your nightmare of a house—good luck with that.
Or you’re moving.
Or you have someone you love in the hospital.
Or you’re broke.
Or things are just falling apart.
Given all that, I feel blessed that you’ve taken the time to read this. Since you have, make the most of the moment. Let the words soak in:
He is Mighty God.
Read it again. Go on.
This King we serve, this Lord we love, this Savior we celebrate is fully capable of meeting the challenges of your day, be they mundane or monstrous.
And he will.
Because you are his beloved.