"For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6, NKJV)
The sounds of Christmas faded away, drowned out by a roaring noise in my ears. Suddenly I felt lightheaded, and I struggled to catch my breath. I was having a panic attack — again.
The problems had started a few months earlier. Doctors blamed them on stress and premenopause. Medication helped ease the symptoms, and therapy had helped me learn how to handle the anxiety. But as hard as I tried to keep calm, I lived in fear of when the next panic attack would hit. Over and over, I cried out to God. Fix this, I prayed. Give me back the peace I’ve lost.
For my birthday, my husband, Jim, arranged for us to stay at the Opryland Hotel in Nashville, Tennessee. He knew that I loved the hotel’s indoor garden, especially when it was decorated for Christmas. But spending the night? That was way too extravagant.
“It’s a special treat,” Jim said. “Maybe this is just what you need.”
At first it was. We laughed at the giant animated mice decorating the Christmas tree below our balcony. We wandered along the poinsettia-lined pathways and marveled at the number of twinkling lights that dotted the glass ceiling. I relaxed and enjoyed myself.
But it didn’t last. When we were seated in one of the expensive restaurants in the garden, I felt anxiety creep in. My throat started to close. My head started to spin. I fought to keep my feelings hidden from my husband. I didn’t want to spoil his evening; he had gone to so much trouble.
Frantically I looked around the garden for something to focus on that might distract me from the oncoming attack. I scanned to the right and to the left. The Christmas decorations that had pleased me so much just an hour before just felt cold and unfamiliar. I was surrounded by people enjoying the holidays, and I was sitting across from the love of my life, but I had never felt more alone.
Then I looked up.
Directly above my head, suspended between two six-foot doves, was a banner bearing just three words: “Peace on Earth.”
Gradually my throat unclenched, and I was able to take a deep, calming breath.
I wasn’t alone at all. When I needed it the most, God had given me a super-sized reminder that the kind of peace I need isn’t found in animated mice, bright lights, or expensive restaurants. That kind of peace comes directly from the Prince of Peace, who will never leave me.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Love Is Patient
We have an older woman who attends our church. At one time, for a long time, her grown son and his family were also members. But, as it happens sometimes, the son became disillusioned with the church, and he and his family quit coming. Except for his mother. Every Sunday, without fail, she saves an aisle seat for her son. Just one seat, right beside her. He doesn't come, and the seat stays empty, but she patiently waits.
One Sunday, out of the blue, she looked up to see her son standing beside her row. She quickly moved her purse and her Bible out of the seat so that he could sit down. It was just that one Sunday. He hasn't returned. But the empty seat right beside her will be waiting, if he ever comes back. Then, maybe, he'll be back for good.
It makes me think about how far we get from God sometimes. We get so caught up in our careers, our past-times, even in our church activities, that we wander away. Or maybe, like the son, we've deliberately walked away from God, angry over something He did or didn't do.
The great thing is, God doesn't move. It could be weeks, or months, or even years, but when we're ready to return, we never have to worry that God will have given up on us. God doesn't give up. Whether we've drifted away from God, or deliberately turned our back on God, He'll keep waiting. He's got a spot saved just for us.
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