Living By Faith

I often begin a story like this with, "I can't make this up!" Why would tonight be any different? As I shared recently the kids and I are doing a Christmas/Advent Devotional based on Ann Voskamp's book The Greatest Gift. We sat down tonight to read and then say our prayers before I put the littles to bed. Here's how it went.

Me (reading): The LORD had said to Abram, "Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father's family, and go to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you . . . and you will be a blessing to others. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who treat you with contempt. All the families on earth will be blessed through you." . . . ~ Genesis 12:1-7 

Me (as I continue to read): This is the gift that wraps up all stresses quiet: I will bless you. "I will bless you," says the God who comes to where you are. Who comes in the heaviness of the day, to the space where the weight hangs on the edges of you, so you just keep holding your breath, so you just keep forgetting to breathe. But the weight of everything melts like thinning snow in the heat of His words: "I will bless you." He will not burden you. He will not break you. He will bless you-the God of invincible reliability, the God who has infinite resources, the God who is insistent love. You can always go ahead and breathe-He will bless. You can always breathe when you know all is grace.

At this point I am bawling my eyes out as I read. God is writing me a love letter.

Me (reading through flowing tears): That is the order of grace. . . . The personal blessings envelop you first. Then you are the blessing sent to the world. You will be experienced as a blessing-to the extent you have first experienced yourself as blessed. You must feel the fullness of your own pitcher before you trust the pouring out of yourself. "It is not use for you attempt to sow out of any empty basket, for that would be sowing nothing but wind," wrote Spurgeon. So slow down to feel the wind. Listen to the carols just a little bit longer. Linger in the quiet and taste the grace of now, and know that He is good and He is God. Name them in this moment-gift upon gift upon gift-and listen for the echo in everything: I will bless you.

Me (to the children): Do you understand what I'm reading? God is telling us not to worry. He is telling me my worrying last night and today was for nothing because I we are His children and He loves us. He will bless us always so we can go out and bless others. We are walking testimonies for His love, for His mercy and for His grace.

Cameron: Mom, you always talk about this stuff, but I've never understood until tonight. I don't know what to say. It's ironic.

Me: It's not ironic, it's God. (And then I begin to read again) D.L. Moody once wrote, "Faith is the gift of God. So is the air, but you have to breathe it; so is bread, but you have to eat it; so is water, but you have to drink it." Breathe it, eat it, drink it-leave the blur of Ur and slow to taste and see the promised land of Advent, of Christmas, of His Coming-the blessing of gift upon gift. Only when you first unwrap the gifts of blessings to you can you be wrapped up as a gift of blessing to others. Only when you are overwhelmed with the goodness of God can you overflow with the goodness of God to others. And that is the blessing God graced Abram with, the blessing He graces you with this Advent, the gift that makes you a gift. The greatest gift God graces a should with is His own presence. So the whirl can hush and the spin can slow because He will bless, and He will bless with Himself come down. The present is His presence, and the greatest present you always have to give is His presence-looking into someone's eyes as you listen, refusing the wrong of rushing, lingering long enough to really listen-to everything. There is no need for more: the heart is full of gifts that is full of Christ. It's strange how that happens-that any place becomes the Promised Land when the blessing of His presence becomes the gift we receive-and give. Advent happening anywhere.

Wow! Talk about knocking my socks off. It's as if God was thumping me over the head, "Do you hear me Tiffany?" Yes. Loud and clear. Sometimes I need the hit over the head Lord. Sorry. I. Am. Blessed.