“Sorry you all had to sit through that,” the quietest woman in the room grinned, “because that was just for me.”

We all know what she meant.

One of the amazing abilities of our Lord is reaching out to us individually while reaching out to us all.

His sweet love and unique relationship with each of His children involves personal gifts and private moments. There are inside jokes and memories that hold us warmly, tucked into His care.

One of the kindest, more precious things the Lord has taught me is this: He doesn’t just care for me, He cares about me.

One of the kindest, more precious things the Lord has taught me is this: He doesn’t just care for me, He cares about me.
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Sometimes the sunrise’s streak of gold peeking over the trees is just for me.

The weather isn’t what everyone wanted, but He did it for me. I asked last night.

Whoever donated those exact boots to the thrift store didn’t know it, but they were just for me, an unexpected gift from the Lord.

My husband’s shoulder, though not his own selection, isn’t too large or too small. It’s just right- made, I believe, just for me and my heavy head.

As I speak to God on a matter, asking a specific question, He rephrases it back to me with an answer through the song on the radio proclaiming truth I need in that moment. The lyrics are familiar, but that time, He played it just for me.

At the end of one Saturday, I am tired of struggling and weary. Settling into bed, I open a book I’ve been struggling to enjoy, one I’ve grown tired of plodding through. I’m reading it only because I committed to. But THAT chapter rubs salve on my soul. Words just for me, custom shaped from an author’s keyboard to my aching heart by the Lord’s own hands.

I open the Good Book, the only one I’m known to actually hug goodnight, to the page I left off on. This is His word, active and alive, and it quickly enfolds those feelings of fear in the triumphant embrace of the one who died just for me. Words spoken a couple thousand years ago, spoken right now to me by the same Savior.

In the words of the Isaiah 25:1, “Lord, you are my God.”

And because of Christ, I’m more than just God’s creation, set on my course alone. I’m God’s child.

Because of Christ, I’m more than just God's creation, set on my course alone. I’m God's child. @BethanyMcIlrath
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Do you know if you’re His child, too?

As His child, do you see God’s good gifts- the just for you kind?

It’s a precious gift, this truth that God cares so much for just me and just you.

It’s a precious gift, this truth that God cares so much for just me and just you.
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We’d love to hear in the comments about something God’s done just for you this Christmas season!

{A version of this post was previously posted here}

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Linkup Party is open! This week, my friend @BethanyMcIlrath shares a profound truth that fills this Christmas with significance: God cares for you and me in a very private, individual way. Join us & Share your blog!
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Excited about their long-awaited accomplishment, Orville rushed to telegraph a message to their sister Katharine: “Success four flights Thursday morning, all against 21-mile wind. Started from level with engine power alone. Average speed through air: 31 miles. Longest: 12 seconds. Inform press. Home for Christmas.”

A story is told that Katharine hurried to the editor of the local newspaper to show the message. After glancing at the telegraph for a short moment, the man said: “How nice. The boys will be home for Christmas.”

It sounds like a joke, but this amusing piece of history made me think of how many times we miss the most important details, and sometimes life-changing events, simply because we concentrate on what brings us superficial, momentary joy.

The editor concentrated on something that, however meaningful and significant, paled in contrast with the big news of the day: man had flown!

I thought about this story while stuck in holiday shopping traffic this week. I had no intention to go near the mall, but could not avoid it on the way to an appointment.

My children asked to put their windows down while Christmas music blared from the speakers. Admittedly, the traffic jam put me in no mood for Christmas cheer. I looked around and realized I was not alone. While my girls flapped their arms out of the car and into the crispy air, dancing to the tune of Francesca Battistelli’s “Christmas Is,” I could tell that their perkiness was causing more irritation than cheer.

But as the words of the song filled the air, Battistelli reminded me to keep my focus where it belongs. The song talks about the wonderful things we enjoy during the Christmas season: family, giving, special dishes and Christmas movies. But ultimately, the intent of the lyrics is to remind us of the big news of Christmas: Jesus – Immanuel, which means “God with us.”

I don’t criticize all the beautiful folkloric Christmas traditions. On the contrary, we love Santa and we even have an elf! I personally think that the sweet celebrations of the season only add to the joy that the birth of our savior brings.

But the truth is, as much as we would like to stay focused on the true meaning of Christmas, it is not always that easy. Every year, it seems as if December becomes more filled with activities. The list of people we exchange gifts with becomes longer. We find ourselves stressed about what to buy, and often mindlessly purchase a gift out of obligation, instead of love.

In the midst of the chaos, I believe the Christmas baby speaks to you and me: “I came to a manger, of all places! It’s not about how expensive your gifts are, or how many are under the tree, but about the love they represent.”

Believe me, I get it – in our excitement and busyness, the holiday season often drives us to become as narrow-minded as the editor that read Orville’s telegram to his sister. We lose sight of the real reason to celebrate.

This Christmas Eve, however, I invite all of us who know the baby in the manger as our Redeemer and Lord to stop a moment and thank God for the event that makes the Wright brothers’ first flight and other major historic events pale in contrast: the birth of our savior. After all, it was not about Santa that the angels sang.

It was not about Santa that the angels sang.
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This article was published in Patricia’s column for the Atlanta Journal Constitution’s Faith & Value Section on Saturday, December 24th

The post Looking Beyond the Christmas Tree {Atlanta Journal Constitution Column} appeared first on Soaring With Him Ministries.

Time is a commodity that doesn’t cost money, and yet, it seems to be so very scarce these days, especially during the holidays. These are the days when houses that are not homes are filled with lights, in an attempt to hide the emptiness and darkness inside. These are the days when we rush to the malls, loading our shopping carts with items that are often superfluous and unwanted. These are the days when we fill our calendars with activities and parties. We serve, and give, and give some more. And at the end of the day, both God and our loved ones are often left with full hands and empty hearts. Why? Because we choose to give things, instead of giving ourselves. We may rationalize, saying that we don’t have time. We may convince ourselves that the new video game will make our child happy, or that beautiful diamond bracelet will fulfill our loved one’s deepest desire. We may think that God is satisfied with our busy December church activities in the name of Jesus. All along, if we could ask God and our loved ones what they really want for Christmas, they would echo the voices of the kids in that shrewd commercial: “I want more of you. More love and less service. More time and less stuff.”

I thought about that as I left my desk in the middle of the day earlier this week after accepting our 9-year old’s invitation to tea. Early that morning, she had asked me to play with her after school. I looked at my calendar and the deadline for two articles quickly approaching. I glanced at the Christmas gift list that sat without one single check mark on top of my desk. Whereas all reasoning and the ticking of the clock told me we should do it another day, I agreed to stop the clock and become her play date for one hour.

Her face beamed as she proudly displayed the treats that she put together. My fine china set awkwardly balanced on the tiny table as she poured the hot water with the zeal of an English lady at tea time. I looked at her, choking back the tears, as she shared stories about her friends from school; about Holly, our mischievous Christmas elf, and how she wondered whether there was a portal to the North Pole somewhere around the house. We laughed and hugged, sharing secrets and tea. I forgot the chores and the blank page on my computer screen, and simply stopped to love my child. The kitchen was a mess and the floors needed sweeping. But all was well. I know that the time I spend with my children and the memories we make will not be forgotten on the bottom of a closet as the next best toy will. It’s a gift that we will cherish for as long as we live. It’s the gift they really want, anyway.

Patricia Holbrook is a Christian author and national conference speaker. Her book, “Twelve Inches: Bridging the
 Gap Between What You Know About God and How You Feel,” is available on Kindle, at Barnes and Nobles, Amazon and other retailers. Visit her website at www.soaringwithhim.com Email: pholbrook@soaringwithHim.com.

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The post What Our Children Really Want for Christmas (Column for the Atlanta Journal Constitution) appeared first on Soaring With Him Ministries.