Janet Benlien Reeves

At Christmastime, we celebrate Jesus’ birth— as we live the life made possible through His death and resurrection— while we look forward with hope to His return. We focus on His Nativity, but we know that event has already happened. Christ’s birth is in the past, not something we hope for now. We celebrate Jesus’ birth at Christmas the way we celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, adoptions, and other annual celebrations of one-time events. But Christmas is more than a birthday celebration. Christmas is a remembrance of hope. We no longer hope for the promised Christ child. He has already come. Instead, we hope—look forward to—the second coming of our grown-up, mission-fulfilled, crucified, resurrected, and glorified Savior and King for eternity. The remembrance and reality of the first event is our hope for the second. We live in this hope every day. Just as God was and is and is to come (Revelation 1:8), through Advent, we celebrate what happened in the past, what is happening...

More than once, I have told my husband something like: “My head knows that this current experience is not like that experience from years ago, but it can’t convince the rest of me.” At these times, my head has declared the situation safe and my status secure while my body and emotions have reacted with anxiety, stress, and a need to control. I respond with panic and a desire to fight (not literally), take flight, or freeze. My body and emotions work together, demanding a quick solution to a problem that doesn’t exist. My head throws up its figurative hands and says, “There is no reasoning with them!” Thankfully, this occurrence is rare. But if you understand this (IYKYK), The Sacred Art of Slowing Down by A. C. Seiple can be a useful tool as you work to bring your thoughts, emotions, spirit, and physical reactions together. It is a tool that God can use to help you heal what’s broken, so that you can move forward in a healthy way. As I read Seiple’s book, I especially appreciated ...

 . . . When I Closed My Eyes The mid-afternoon sun fell through the upstairs window onto the comfy chair. Finding the invitation irresistible, I sat down, leaned back, and closed my eyes. Blanketed in sunshine, I fell into a false sleep through which I could hear the pitter-patter of production all around. When the little girl with golden hair shrieked and fell from the top of the garage, landing with a thump, I considered opening my eyes. Instead, I scrunched them tighter. The clanging of the firetruck assured me help was coming. The girl would pull through fine as ever as she always did, perhaps with a new scratch or two. The clatter of cars lining up was the next sound to invade my not-quite-nap. The orange-haired girl with freckles would be manning the red open-wheel racer. The boy with the orange ball cap and permanent smirk would drive the yellow prototype. Owners who never left their assets would drive those remaining cars. I didn’t have to look to know. The engines rumb...

For the past two days, I have been doing something new, yet also old. Twenty-four years ago, my husband gave me a beautiful cross-stitch project for my birthday. Our family had just moved to the Netherlands, and we were living in a hotel waiting for the home we planned to rent to become available. The owner of the home liked renting to military families and had a knack for lining up new tenants before the old ones moved out. The home was worth the wait; it remains one of my all-time favorite standouts from our many moves. The long-term hotel we were staying in, however, was not close to town, and our family had only been allowed to bring one car overseas. My husband needed it for work, so our three sons and I were somewhat hotel-bound. Furthermore, we only had the belongings we had carried in our suitcases for entertainment. We made good use of the library on weekends to keep us occupied throughout the week. The cross-stitch project was something I could do whenever the boys were eng...

Daddy taught me: When you work the puzzle without the box, Your reward is greater Wonder, surprise — Satisfaction! Build the frame first. It’s your map. Then connect colors and shapes. Use your fingers, your eyes. Seek the subtle nuance That makes one piece right for another, No other. Persist — Piece by piece, One delight of discovery at a time Until the great reveal: Picture complete. Then pause, stare. Run your hands over your smooth work Done. Life doesn’t come with a box. * * * Photo by  Ryoji Iwata  on  Unsplash

“Then God said, ‘Let the land produce vegetation: seed-bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds.’ And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.” –Genesis 1:11-12, NIV When our loving Creator prepared the world we now inhabit, he wanted us to love it. He wanted us to enjoy living in it. The great variety of plants, animals, and habitats is our proof. God could have made one kind of tree, one kind of flower, weather that never changed, a standard sunrise and sunset to repeat every morning and evening, and one geological environment for all. Instead, he gave us a world that is ever changing, full of discoveries for us to make—enough to keep us busy until he takes us to heaven, where I have no doubt we’ll make exciting discoveries throughout eternity. I remember when my yo...