Nothing’s real at Christmas. The trees are fake. Well, mostly. The decorations largely made out of plastic. Our smiles are often fake, too. Forced into situations to “celebrate,” we go along with it and do our best to survive for an hour and find an easy escape. Then there’s Uncle James. Who invited Uncle James? No one’s admitting it, and everyone’s looking down at their plate.

There are difficult people to deal with at this time of year. At home. At the office. Difficult to us. God loves people. God loves celebrating. He loves our songs and pageantry at Christmas. He is the reason we have gold and silver, the reason we make such beautiful designs. Workmanship comes from Him. Yet, in the midst of all these things that aren’t true, while the artificial surrounds us and comes from us, what holds our hearts is the birth of the Savior, Jesus Christ.

I am struck by the strength of His parents, how Mary willingly gave herself to fulfill God’s plan. She must have had a million questions about what would happen after the angel spoke to her. Not simply about pregnancy but about raising God’s Son. About Joseph’s reaction. And Joseph, after the angel told him to flee to Egypt, must have wondered how he would survive in a culture that was distinctly not Jewish. After all, he gave up his entire lifestyle to protect his newborn son.

But God the Father and God the Spirit were with them to supply all their needs, and today, as we mill amongst those long-lost relatives, sampling Aunt Maude’s cheesecake, He has not changed. He sent Jesus to be our complete salvation. There is not one need we have which He will not supply. He loves us so much.

Merry Christmas from my family to yours. Have a blessed holiday season!

“For God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son so that anyone who believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16 TLB)


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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com

Includes Book 1 (Rise of the Sun) and Book 2 (Spawn)

HE COMES ALIVE IN THE PAGES OF THE BOOK, stories of old, spanning generations. There, amongst the “these” and “thous” is a man who walked and talked and ate and drank. Who lived. We meet His parents, His cousin. We spend time with His friends. We are invited on a journey, to travel from one century to another, through the images of His people, until there, before us, He extends His hand.

Around us is modern society, modern businesses, governments. Churches. We sit on padded pews, staring at millions of dollars’ worth of equipment. In some places. In others, we’re crouched before tiny screens admiring preachers in suits, blue jeans … lots of blue jeans. A soda in one hand, an ipad in the other, we scroll along soaking in His words and follow it with a baked potato and all the fixins’. If we can eat potatoes that is. Some can. Some can’t.

He comes alive in the pages of the Book. We fall asleep afterward, lulled into a stupor by bad news … stupid news … and cat videos. Didn’t they make the internet for cat videos? I think so. We’re caught up in our jobs, in our 9-to-5-ness, in the grands, or the rents. The next holiday approaches or our vacation at Mt. Sherma. We’ve rented a cabin, only not a tiny house but one of those grand jobbies which houses twelve. It’s a tad large but Uncle Robb is coming.

Uncle Robb is real. Touchable. Unfortunately. And our cousins can be counted on to mostly show up. Our bestie, she’s in for a road trip to the Shake Shop. These people we croon and call to after a five-minute prayer before we dash out the door and the reading of a parable which kinda made sense, they’re there and here with us.

But what’s real is often distracting to the actual Truth, and this man who comes alive in the Book, is alive in the flesh. Is alive on this earth and not just locked up in heaven, dancing around in a white robe and brown sandals. He’s not just hobbing up with the Father in the throne room while angels sing His praises. He’s in the trenches, at the bottom with those who fell there.

We find Him in our desperation. Without searching. By simply calling. We weep and cry and beg for mercy, and His compassion sweeps in. I’ve been there. I’ve heard His voice in the midst of my sorrow. I’ve joined His laughter, had Him say something unexpected simply to pick me up. And I cried with abandon for it and fell in love more than I thought I ever could.

He’s alive in the pages of the Book, alive in the stories, but worth every minute I take to turn all the things of life off, lay them aside, and give Him the time He deserves. And here’s the thing, the more I do this, the more I want to, the less that movie I thought I’d watch seems important anymore.

Because He’s alive in the atmosphere. He’s alive in my city, my state, my nation, but most of all, He’s alive in me. I can talk to Him, hear His responses, and feel His Presence. For that same power which raised Him from the dead and put Him in the pages, is here with me, too. And the voice of a Father, who He came and represented.

For God so loved the world that He sent His Son to save me and you. He’s in the Book. In the pages. In every culture that exists from east to west and top to bottom. But greatest of all, He’s here with me. He’s alive.

Photo by wisconsinpictures on Unsplash

   A Little Christmas Magic: The Cowboy & The Librarian
   Amazon |  Other Retailers

   What if your book boyfriend came to life?

   Reading a paperback picked up at a discount table was supposed to be
   entertainment. Until a strange occurrence involving a vintage book and a real
   encounter with one of Santa’s elves.

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Suzanne D. Williams, Author
www.suzannedwilliams.com
www.feelgoodromance.com