If everybody would just do things my way, life would be perfect. Right? It’s my way or the highway–or so I thought. I get stuff done in my time, my way, and with my best interest by figuring out just when is my time–when now doesn’t seem to be working, what is my way–when all paths seem foggy, and what is my best interest–when I can’t see the future.

With all the clamor, noise, and jockeying for stuff, I easily lose my bearings. The center of who I am and the focus of what I’m about becomes distorted. Discouragement lurks in the shadows to claim all that I am. When things aren’t working out my way or in my time or even in my best interests, maybe I’ve lost the meaning of the word “my” and to whom it refers.

In Old Testament times, Moses experienced times like these and God sent him into the wilderness to be with the sheep. The clamor of Egypt, gone. The noise of people, diminished. The stuff related to position, eradicated. One day Moses went even further into the wilderness. “He led the flock far into the wilderness” (Ex. 3:1). Silence. Hoof step. Occasional bleat. His mind quiet, focused on one thing—find grazing land.

In the quietness, God called. Maybe Moses’ thoughts weren’t as stilled as they needed to be. God used a spectacular display to catch his attention and speak to him—a burning bush that wouldn’t burn up. In amazement, Moses heard God say what his time, his way, and his best interest was. It wasn’t about Moses at all. It was about God’s plan, God’s time, way and glory.

How often I get wrapped up in thinking my life is about me. Like Moses, if I take time to quiet myself in the presence of God, I learn his plan, his way, and his time. It’s then that I can sync my life with his grand purpose for me, for others, and for God’s glory.

The word “my” refers to God, not me. He knows better than I about time, ways, and what’s best.

Now, where can I find some quiet sheep-grazing land?

Hello beautiful people. I wish you the greatest holydays.

I didn’t feel like celebrating the regular way this year. Things were different. Celebrating with decorations, cooking and eating didn’t appeal to me. Nor could I get into the buying, unwrapping and giving gifts. It was all different this year. It wasn’t because of sickness, although we were under the weather part of the time. It wasn’t because I didn’t have my family with me, I did. I felt different. I even thought it might be a lack of Christmas spirit, that the Ghost of Christmas past might visit me. Scrooge. No, I wasn’t anti-Christmas. Rather I felt less hustle and bustle and filled with more—I don’t know—thought maybe. Yeah, thoughts of the past, the present, and the future, like in Dickens’s Christmas Carol.

I celebrated by thinking of the joy and peace Jesus came to bring us in the midst of our pain and unrest. I celebrated Jesus being in the lives of family and friends, and cherished the thought of His presence in each one of you. I reminisced in my relations with each of you with gladness. And I had peace. All the trappings of this world can vanish like vapor and leave us with nothing before the throne of God, but by Jesus’ peace and joy, united and together we will be. We’ll have each other. I prayed for each one of you to experience the peace and joy that Christ offers all throughout the upcoming year. In Christ, we are victorious! May we see Him as He is.

Blessings upon you and your family,
Robin