What’s really at the top of your Christmas tree

  I went to a neighborhood Christmas party last night. I was the first arrive. Mari had her house decked out to every detail. When one family arrived with their two small children, say 3 and 4, immediately both kids looked at the tree and pointed at the star on top.
 It was a pretty star, I thought… but no…
 I looked again at the faces of the kids, and their look wasn’t of wonderment, they were pointing TO the star, with looks of indignation. Their father told us about how his parents had a star they had used for  some time that was thrown out with the intent of replacement, but it didn’t get replaced. So when they went to grandma and grandpa’s this year, the tree just wasn’t a real Christmas tree without the star.
 Christ is a little like that star.  It’s easy to get caught up in the ornaments, the decorating, believing there’s always time to replace or repair the brokenness of our lives. To these kids, This Christmas was the most important, where was the star present in THIS Christmas? I am certain in reflection that like most the adults in my life I have been caught up in just getting the tree up, decorated and presents underneath. It is a running theme in my daily life. Just getting things done without the finale.
 At work today, Donna, a coworker with as short a temper as her height yelled, “Jesus!” as she reached for something too tall for her to get to. I responded in jest, “Donna, Jesus isn’t going to help you get that down.” I walked around the table, grabbed what she wanted and told her, “but you never know until you ask, right?”

I’m not Rob Bell. But I get it. I think.

I’m paving this


each brick

a good intention;


I reach

The destination

I seek.

I find a door

where I began this journey

at the very first brick I paved.

A sign

it says “only by me”

and I notice in the corner, a small

hand written add on

“with authenticity”.

Unsettled Grace, again…

I rest upon God’s mighty hand,

as an infant, as a man.

I wonder, God, What is to be?

Why? I wonder, why choose me?

Dearest Father, Loving King,

I don’t know how to cope with these things.

Guidance, you ask?


That would be nice,

Until then Lord, prayer is my vice.

I dream in your mighty hand, my God,

Of a day that will come to be…

I see in a distant future; a day in eternity.

I dream to know you, as you have known me.

I dream away worries  

I dream away tears;

I rest in an Unsettled Grace

you really are here.