There is a story told about “two dogs” which battle within us. Some say it’s an Indian legend . . . some say it’s an old fable told long ago . . . but the story makes the rounds, and also makes a lot of sense. As the story goes, when a youngster comes to the old sage leader and asks why he feels so angry at unfair treatment, the older one explains, “It is as if there are two dogs inside of you. One is always good, peaceful, and loyal.
People write books on God’s grace. Books about transforming grace, saving grace, all-sufficient grace, powerful grace. . . . .amazing grace ... But what about grace to face multiple deployments? Perhaps your marriage survived the first deployment. . . .barely. Then with the second deployment you were more prepared than the first, and took some steps to improve in communications and commitment. The third deployment came sooner than you expected and more frustration set in. Now you’re on what seems to be a never-ending course for more and more separation, loneliness, hard work under harsh conditions, and danger. . . . . what kind of grace will get you through those struggles? Let’s call it greater grace. Greater grace takes you from “I can’t do this anymore” to “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)
At the beginning of each year we are inundated with advice on how to “get in shape” physically. Most military members and their families stay in good shape--but it still behooves us to pay attention to this advice. Magazine, newspaper—and online—articles try to motivate us to try something new (again). . . . another fresh start, so to speak. And the New Year offers just that—the opportunity to begin to exercise again in a better way--and eat healthier, too. What is the advice? Here are 10 "healthy tips" frequently offered. Are there some spiritual lessons we can learn along with the metaphors of physical training?
I have always appreciated a good mechanic. Whether it was for our own vehicles or those vehicles used in the military—the fact that reliable maintenance is necessary to perform the mission was never lost on me. So when my husband and I meet maintainers, we express our appreciation for their expertise and dedication. After all, nothing happens without them.
Some of the biggest mistakes I have made were because I followed bad advice. I listened to the wrong “voices.” I thought that following current cultural trends was more important than following age-old wisdom. I thought that everyone’s motives were pure and that they knew what was best for me. I thought I could trust anyone with experience, even if that experience had led them into failure. I thought that many college degrees made a person an expert. I thought that an older generation couldn’t possibly relate to my contemporary situations. I thought that no one could possibly understand what I was going through unless they had “walked a mile in my shoes.” I thought that clichés like, “if it feels good, do it”. . . and “I’m okay, you’re okay” . . . and “there’s no such thing as black and white—everything is gray,” were true statements on which to base major decisions. And in a very contradictory way, I thought there was no such thing as truth—that humanism and situational ethics ruled the day. I was wrong, and many others with me. And there are consequences to bad choices.
It was at Ft. Hood that we first heard the phrase, “I don’t want to just survive, I want to thrive!” A young Army wife was expressing her determination that, no matter what the circumstances, she was going to make the best of the deployment which she and her husband were facing (again). Seated around the table were others who agreed with her—they were tired of being categorized in a role of “victim” and were wanting to show the world what good stuff Army wives are made of! It was impressive. . . . a meeting I don’t think I will ever forget.
How are you doing this Christmas? Is your heart overflowing with thankfulness. . . .or are you overwhelmed by circumstances and deployment, disappointed with people (or yourself), too tired to celebrate? The days are full. . . . and if you’re like me you are yearning for a chance to just “be still” and spend time with the Lord. After all, this holiday is all about Him—the One who came to seek and save, to rescue and redeem, to bring inner and eternal peace to those who know Him.
It was Christmas Eve in Thailand, 1972. Thanks to Armed Forces Radio “Silent Night” was playing in our room . . . but it was not really a “silent” night at all. I was a young Air Force wife visiting my husband serving that year in Southeast Asia—but even in my naïveté, I knew something big was imminent. Linebacker II was in progress—the 1972 Christmas bombing of Hanoi—and the constant sound of take-offs (“please, Lord”) and landings (“thank you, Lord”) from the Air Base was surreal in dissonance with the sweet music I was hearing on the radio. A rescue was in the works, and the POWs, so long tortured and confined in Hanoi, heard and felt the thunderous aircraft noise with great hope and expectation for their eventual release from captivity.
Pastor Tommy Nelson, of Denton Bible Church in Texas, gave a sermon to his church for Christmas, 1988, entitled “Jesus’ View of Christmas.” The text for this powerful sermon was an unlikely one . . . Luke 11:21-26. Those verses are several chapters away from the traditional Christmas story which we all know and love, Luke 2:1-20: “And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed . . . “ I was intrigued. How could verses about Jesus and Satan give us a message for Christmas?
We all love the drama and richness of the Christmas story—the tenderness and devotion of Mary & Joseph, God’s revelation of the new king through humble shepherds and rich wise men, and the innocence of baby Jesus contrasted against the coldness of the innkeeper and the scheming and jealousy of Herod. And this is certainly the season for beautiful nativity sets, living manger scenes, and children’s Christmas pageants—all picturing the incarnation of Jesus. But there is so much more to the story—there is deeper meaning to Christmas.