Tonight we say "good bye" to another year.  A few weeks ago I was with a woman who had just lost her husband.  As we watched the funeral home place his body in the hearse, and begin to drive away, she quickly turned away and went inside her home.  She said to me, "We always made it a habit not to watch each other leave.  I don't know how it started.  I guess by not watching the person leave, in our hearts we knew that the person was just around the corner."

It struck me that in our lives we encounter "good byes," that are really just "see you later."  

In our faith, we acknowledge that death is merely a threshold that we cross into a new life.  While I have been at the bedside of a number of people who have made their first step into life eternal, I recognize that with that first step, there was also a final step.

With the final stroke of midnight, we say hello to a new year.  A new "opportunity," but yet, we know that more than likely, we will awaken tomorrow to find that we still look the same, still have the same job, family, and many of the same circumstances.  Entering the new year with hope is something that we all strive to achieve.  Allowing for change that will benefit us, and hopefully those around us.

It is the signalling to others that something is about to change, or evolve, into something different.

Each year a try not to make resolutions that I know I am not sincere about, or know that I can fulfill.  It is those things that set me up for "mid-year failure syndrome."  I don't really believe that is a diagnosis, but I have to admit, it is something that we all know a little about.

Jesus, as he prepares to leave the disciples just merely offers his "peace," to those around him.  As we say "good bye" to 2018, I think that we all would agree that welcoming 2019 into being will be very different if we begin simply with the resolution to offer "peace," to one another.

Peace be with you...

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

"I will heal their waywardness and love them freely, for my anger has turned away from them."
~ Hosea 14: 4

I wish that I could say I have no regrets, but that would not be true. I think we all have things, choices, events, words... the list goes on into infinity, of things we have experienced, and we have hesitation about "after the fact."

The hindsight syndrome can leave you with many feelings and may cause you to "should" on yourself. For example, "I should have done this or that instead."

The wonderful thing about forgiveness is that it is real. The value of knowing that poor choices can be opportunities for God's grace to take action, can be a powerful tool for moving forward with your life.

The issue is when we don't embrace the forgiveness, change the way we see something, and then most importantly, forgive ourselves.

It's a challenge at times to forgive others when they have made choices that personally harm us, but it's even more important that when it is our own doing, that's when we must truly allow forgiveness to take place personally.

The Scottish poet Robert Burns in the late 18th century wrote the poem many will sing parts of on New Years. Auld Lang Syne is about remembering friendships and that taking one another's hands and drinking to each other's health will be the theme. One thing that should be part of this, is in that remembrance, seeking forgiveness if there has been wrong, but also, letting God's grace take hold of yourself.

Everyone's New Year's resolution should include learning to experience forgiveness.

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

Years ago one of the men that we would see on the streets of Houston, invited me to come and spend time with he and his girlfriend under a bridge where they were temporarily living.

As I made my way, I noticed a small tree branch, loaded with tinsel. Just tinsel! And then I noticed next to a candle, leaning to one side, and pitted by small pebbles, shining in the darkness, they had made a makeshift nativity scene. It's probably one of the most meaningful "cradles" I had ever seen.

Three small figures made of popsicle sticks, gum, and various items found on the street. A bus token served as the base for the cradle.

The figures wouldn't even be something of interest, but to them, they were the tiny mother, a father, and the vulnerable infant king.

Then I noticed the shadow of the figures on the concrete embankment thrown by the candle. The light danced as cars stirred the air above, but it was clearly the Nativity.

Their shadows were signs of hope. Hopeful shadows against the walls of life and world.

Without the flicker of the candle, there was not much to see. Without the light of Christ, we continue to be simple figures walking in darkness, but everything changes with the light.

​Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

Before Jesus called his Disciples to "follow him," he first had to learn to walk and follow Joseph and Mary.

Scripture doesn't include much about the early years of Jesus' life. We know that he is born in a stable surrounded by animals, travels with his parents to Egypt where they assume daily life. Then he appears in the Temple, teaching those present, as a youngster, when he runs off from his family.

It's not that I want to know what he was like as a child. Did he struggle to learn how to walk? Was he afraid of the dark? Did he fall and hurt himself, run to his mother, and did she kiss away the pain?

The stories of parents and their children in scripture are varied. Abraham invites his son Isaac to go for a walk and nearly sacrifices him. A young Joseph is the eyes of his father, reporting all the things his brothers are doing, and ends up being in trouble with his brothers. Moses gets placed in a basket and set adrift in the Nile. Mary, a young girl is told she will give birth to the Savior, and delivers him in a barn.

Let's face it, early childhood stories in the Bible would lead to years of therapy for those involved!

The early years of the Messiah and the earthly lessons Joseph surely taught have more than likely influenced each of us and our faith. The very prayer that Jesus taught us to pray, may very well begun with Joseph turning to his son and saying, "Now Jesus, when you pray, begin by saying, 'Our father, which abides in heaven.'"

There are many things I say today that didn't begin with me, or for that matter, didn't begin with my dad. We build upon the lessons of our fathers and mothers.

Jesus, like all of us, discovered the hands that would touch the hearts of humanity. He discovered feet, that he would stand on, and walk dusty roads, calling to others to "follow him." He would cry, laugh, and learn parables that would cause a tax collector to change, not just his name, but his life.

He would make friends, and when one, very close to him would die, he would call him by name, and from a dark tomb, wrapped in clothes for the dead, would walk into the sunlight.

The infant who brought the light of the world into existence would learn the lessons we all would have to learn.

I wonder what Jesus' first words were?

When the young Hebrew girl learned of her favor with the Lord, she sang. What lullabies did she sing, as she rocked her baby when storms raged?

Before the man walked with others, he walked as a child with his earthly father.

I've heard it said that children by the time they are three have lived through the most formative years. The most formative years of the life of Christ are left to us for discernment.

Like many families with newborns, a time of change was encountered. How difficult it must have been to be foreigners in a foreign land while nurturing the son of God as a baby when they had to escape to Egypt?

These are the unknown moments, the lessons, and the times when parents turn to God for answers.

I love to walk along the beach, and often I see sets of feet along the shoreline. I can imagine the two pairs of feet, walking beside one another, along the shore of Galilee. A father or mother with a child.

I wonder what it must have been like the first time this family returned to home after their exile? Jesus meeting his Aunt Elizabeth the first time. Did he and his cousin John make mud pies, or play hide and seek in the market?

I've often wondered how the boy Jesus responded the day his earthly father, Joseph could no longer walk beside him? Did he struggle to take care of his mother in a society where women required the presence of a man to survive after Joseph died.

The experiences we must leave to our imaginations.

As a person of faith, I'm left with the stories of the man Jesus. All of which have shaped, not just me, but my life and how I live in this world.

And as that person of faith, those missing years are the years when families become families. They are the struggles that all have encountered. Perhaps they were the human years that would invite us to see ourselves in a clearer light?

We all were infants, born to learn the same lessons that Christ himself learned.

Our challenge is to find ways to take those lessons and live as his example has shown.

​For unto US has been born a Savior, who learned to walk with a father and a mother. Who came to save us, so that our lives, no matter if walking, crawling, or paralyzed, would know a better way of life. Where peace, love, forgiveness, grace, and the virtues learned from Joseph and Mary years ago shared with a small child, Jesus, can be lived out each day.

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

It's early Christmas morning and already my thoughts have moved beyond last night's Lessons and Carols and the beautiful candlelight service the small faithful group I worship with shared.

The sun hasn't even begun to rise. I came into the living area of our home and turned on the star to light my way to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of milk, so that I might write and meditate before the Christmas morning events begin. As I sit here and look at the star, my mind begins to gather thoughts of those who saw the star and were guided to find the Christ child.

I can't begin to imagine all that Jesus' earthly parents have already encountered, and now, a star rises, and serves as a celestrial announcement that something amazing has occurred.

Last night as one of the readers shared in our service, she became joyful, almost as a child, as she shared the scripture of Jesus' birth and his appearance. As she described the child, wrapped in swaddling strips of cloth, kept warm and safe in the manger, the quiet scene described possessed joy, hope, and possibilities.

I begin to smile when I recall her face, and her eyes as they seemed to sparkle with the same celebratory light of the star as she continued.

I paused again and looked at the star sitting in our living room and ask myself, "Would I have followed a star?"

Last summer I had friends who travelled across the country to be in the pathway of the solar eclipse. This "chance of a lifetime," was broadcasted around the world, and my friends came back sharing stories of what they saw and how it made them feel. They shared, "It was worth the trip," and encouraged me to make the journey one day.

A star. Heavenly signs. Jesus is born.

But even while I sit, I also know the life story of that child the Magi travelled to see. Even they were warned not to return in the same direction they had travelled to see him. For me, I realize that since the day I came to "know" this child born on this day so many years ago, my journey has not been the same as well.

In the light of the star in my living room I can't help but notice the shadow of the cross on the wall behind the star. For even as the Magi made their journey, a greater journey had begun for Jesus. Already he had come into the world, not to condemn, but to save the world. To cause the world to change and to seek a new direction. It began with a baby being born, a star, and continues with us.

Merry Christmas and Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

I spent a portion of my youth living in Rattlesnake Holler, Indiana near Martinsville. Located off Mahalasville Road, vearing to the right at the "Y" in the road where the old Catholic Cemetery sits, and then makes its way towards the Morgan Monroe State Forest.

The valley was the home to less than a dozen families. Mostly farmers and factory workers that made the fifty mile drive into Indianapolis each day.

Our property had both hills and farm land. We raised a garden a little over an acre in size on one side of our home. A creek lined in sycamore trees framed the front of the property along the tar road, while our barn, made from large tree trunks and tin, served as both a place for cows and hay.

Back near the animal stalls was a work bench. During the winter, my mom would keep cabbage in a large crock covered by a large circular piece of tin, that would ferment and become sauerkraut. Often I would lift the brick that held the lid in place and dip my fingers into the mixture and taste the batch on really cold days. Steam would rise from the large pot as I opened the lid.

It was my job to keep water available for the cattle and provide fresh straw for both bedding and feedings.

The Indiana winters seemed to last forever. Although I enjoyed building winter forts, and taking old tire inner tubes and sledding down the hill behind our home where a spring-fed pond provided a place for ice skating, the early dark and cloudy days would end so quickly, and the night time just seemed to last forever.

One winter was extremely harsh. A blizzard had settled in the area. My sister was snowed in at friend's in town. Our water had frozen up several times in our home.

Getting water to the cows was nearly impossible and so I had resorted to taking a large iron tamp pipe for building fences up to the pond to create an access to water. I was literally digging through a foot of ice that year.

We had several pregnant cows that year. It just never failed. On the coldest and darkest of nights one would refuse to come down the hill to the barn.

By four pm each day I had to make sure the cattle were in the barn before it became too dark.

The thick pine and deciduous forest quickly would embrace the darkness and going out into the woods would mean walking in complete darkness.

On one particular day all the cows were accounted for but one. She had been acting strange that day. She didn't eat in her regular area, and seemed to shun the others.

I did my usual call, but she was no where to be found.

Never fails! Cold and darkness, snow and ice, me and a poorly lit flashlight.

Now if you have never dressed for the outdoors in a Hoosier winter, it involves layers. Lots of them! There was a meteorologist, Bob Gregory, we used to watch for the forecast. He had a commercial that showed a child with so many layers on, that his arms extended straight out and he struggled to walk.

I wasn't that bad, but close. Often we would get snow suits for Christmas that would make working in the cold easier.

I began to head into the woods.

With several hills and hollers on the farm, where would I look?

I started following the fence line as it went deeper into forest. I knew the fence line well. It was often my job after a storm to walk the fence to look for branches that may have fallen on the fence, or breaks, where sometimes hunters illegally trespassing would enter.

I continued to call, hoping she would respond. Finally in a small clearing, there she, and her new calf were.

The coarse hair on the calf had already frozen. The smell of a new birth was everywhere. The calf was alive, but cold.

I don't remember exactly what I told the momma. Probably something about being stupid and what was she thinking?

I was always small for my age, and the calf was half as big as me. There was no way I could carry the calf, and he would freeze to death by the time I had gone back down the hill to get help.

So I began to pull at the calf. The uneasiness of the Momma could be sensed, but I realized I had to get the calf to the barn.

I swear, it seemed to take everything I had to get the calf going.

At one point, I just rememeber stopping and starting to cry. Why did she have this calf so far from the barn? Why on this night? I feared for the calf, but also for myself. I had a stepfather who was often unkind, and his punishments could be harsh. I thought that somehow this was all my fault. I should have known that something was up with this one cow earlier in the day and should have kept a closer eye on her.

It felt like hours by the time I reached the barn lot with the calf. The security light shone in the front yard. I don't remember ever being so happy getting down that hill.

I was exhausted. As I entered with the calf, the rest of the herd had to smell and meet the newborn.

Putting out more hay, and getting them settled, I just remember sitting down in the stall as well and looking up at the lone lighbulb hanging above and thinking, "I can't believe just what happened."

Over the years I have remembered that experience at Christmastime. I remember that old barn, how it felt, the smells, noises and then I think of Mary giving birth in a place such as that.

The stark reality that she was not going to be in a place prepared for her birth. In a dark and different land. The questions she must have raised, "Why now?" and "Why here?"

She began her pregnancy with a song, magnifying God, and now she is in a much different place.

God's timing and presence is both surprising and perfect. The creche designed to feed the animals of the field, became the gift to humanity as it became the place where our Savior was placed.

In unexpected ways, Christ enters the world, and reminds us that the love that God has for us means that God is willing to go anywhere to meet each of us where we are.

Stay in God's grip!

​G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

"The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us."
~ 1 John 1: 2

I think out of all the gospels, John tends to move me the most.  I think it is because it begins with Jesus, the "word becoming flesh."  It is significant to me because I hear him saying, "The words of scripture, our faith, and all that we believe, is standing right before us."

John also sees Jesus in intimate moments as well.  When he struggles, but also, his face when the blind man opens his eyes to see for the first time, the paralytic taking his first steps, and Lazarus emerging from the dark tomb.

John is there and realizes the importance for us to know that this was the Son of God come down to dwell among us.

Sometimes I wish that there was more.  What was it like to sit under the stars on a cloudless night, staring up at the cosmos, and hearing Jesus say, "And this is what was being thought as the sun was spun into creation and what that first light looked like."

We live with the knowledge of a God who is not afraid to become flesh.  To enter this world as each of us do as human beings, but yet with a supernatural conception within a young Hebrew girl, who then begins to sing how she shall glorify God.  Another intimate moment.

Seeing God in intimate moments allows for us to know God's ultimate desire to be present for us.  

For John, God becomes real.  God becomes tangible.  He walks dusty roads with him, shares in meals and conversations, and rests under the shade of trees.

John tells us, "I have seen him," and "testifies," to the incarnation.

Believing in Jesus begins believing in the intimate moments of God, while recognizing the living Christ within each one of us.

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
~ 1 Corinthians 13:12

​The winter branches of trees are the visible reminder of our own selves.

In our seasons of life we encounter moments of vulnerability. These are times when we reveal to others who we really are inside.

As a child I would often look at the bare trees of winter and discover ways I could climb them in the summer to reach greater heights.

The same could be said if in my own transparency, looking into a mirror, I could see the things that only in the vulnerability God can and does reveal what I have yet to be.

Do not look with human eyes; viewing it as a "stripping away" or "loss." Even the tree must surrender to the seasons in order to know the blooms of spring, the shade of summer, and the crimson of fall. We are no different, moving through the seasons of life.

Although I don't care for the cold. The older I get, the harder it is becoming for my hands to work and for my own woundedness to be hidden. These are the reminders that like the tree of the forest, I too, am aging.

The empty tree reminds me of my own mortality. It is as if they are reminding me to remain faithful. To be strong, and to embrace the warmth of others.

The body of Christ is the living resurrection of the One who came, experienced the seasons as we do, and suffered; not just the injustices that this world seems to endure. Christ came and knew the process of birth, maturation, and ultimately what it meant to be completely vulnerable before crying out, "It is finished" before a crowd who waited and watched.

The winter tree is not the Christmas tree that adorns our homes. No, it is the reminder that in the starkness of a barn, a child was born so that we may know the fulfillment of all the seasons of our lives. There is beauty in vulnerability.

Stay in God's grip!

​G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.
~ 1 Chronicles 16:11

Two of the most common words used in the Hebrew Scriptures of the Bible involve God's people "turning away" from God and "returning to" God.

If anything this year has taught us is that we must live with the decisions and choices we have made. As we are only days away from Christmas, I would hope our decision to seek out Christ would overwhelm us. Christmas should be a time when we seek the light of Christ, and celebrate the birth of the One who came seeking us.

It is true. There is not a day that goes by that God is not seeking us. "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow us." (Psalm 23)

Whether we find ourselves turning away or returning to God, God is already present.

May your day be filled with the encounters of an amazing God!

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

So often in Church we hear the remark that we have to live in the world without being of the world. But it may be more difficult to be in the Church without being of the Church.

A few months ago I had to participate in boundary training for the denomination I serve. It is a course that I must participate in every few years to keep my standing. It is a reminder to clergy to create good boundaries with members of their faith communities. During the training, I learned that many of my colleagues no longer make visits to the homes of their members.

Many of them shared that they now make members schedule a visit to the church office. Since I visit most of my hospice patients in their home, listening to them share this was just something I couldn't imagine, but during the training I understood why some circumstances would warrant this practice.

It suddenly made me realize that in order for us to not be of the world, the church sometimes must separate itself even from those it is called to serve.

You might say that the gathering left me sad on many levels. I think mostly because I recognize the need to be present with and for people, and how the fear of something taken "wrong" might effect what "others" think.

I guess in many ways I felt like the mission of the church has been compromised, and that the focus has somewhat been blurred, while providing clergy with excuses to not be present with people.

When this happens, especially in the Church, these things then blind us from what we came to see and deafen us to what we came to hear.

Still, it is in the Church that Christ dwells, invites us to His table, and speaks to us words of eternal love.

Being in the Church without being of it is a great spiritual challenge, but being present for one another is our essential need when developing community.

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

But when I speak to you, I will open your mouth and you shall say to them, "This is what the Sovereign Lord says." Whoever will listen let them listen, and whoever will refuse let them refuse..."
~ Ezekiel 3: 27

​What does the image of God look like to you?

The movie "Bruce Almighty" has some interesting lines. At one point Bruce proclaims that God is a child with a magnifying glass, perched on the top of an anthill, just waiting to burn us like an ant.

It's hard not to perceive God as judge. Afterall, there seems to be so much talk about heaven and hell. It's almost as if Santa is morphed from deciding who is naughty or nice and the reward is not toys or coal. It is being sent to a place that reflects which list you are on.

When I look at the world, I see alot of folks policing the list already.

Whatever happened to the image of God as being "God is love?"

You know, it is still okay to love each other as God loves us! It's not a crime to be kind and gentle, while finding ways to spread grace and forgiveness.

If God is love, as I believe God to be, then we should be more focused on spreading that love. Then not only would our lives be different, but the image of the world might improve as well.

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

I grew up in a home that seemed to have the family motto, "Nothing is as permanent as change."   Nothing in our life is truly set in stone, and because of that, many people experience anxiety or stress, especially when the future is unclear.

The idea of approaching the unknown is something we all have experienced.

Even with modern day GPS, we can still become lost.  In the suburbs where I see many of my hospice patients, neighborhoods have sprung up so fast that even Google has yet to drive the streets!  After Hurricane Ike a few years ago, I remember one trip where GPS wanted to lead me into the Gulf.  The road had washed away from the storm, and had not been updated with the new detour. 

It's amazing how the world around us changes in a matter of moments.  This past year we witnessed the burning of an entire city in California, giving people literally seconds to escape. 

If there is one thing that can be said about today's climate is that more than ever, casting our cares, or burdens, upon God is something we must do in order to survive!

For some it is a real struggle, involving a sense of surrender or weakness. It can and does change lives when the idea becomes reality.

To claim the truth of ourselves we have to cling to our God. To give ourselves to the One who makes us who we are, while being in the midst of change and challenge.

Surrendering the unknown road ahead is the beginning of living out our life completely in faith.

Stay in God's grip!

G. Todd Williams (c) 2018

One of the greatest characteristics of Christmas that I think about is the love that God has for us. There is something about a kingdom that is filled with the overwhelming presence of this love, that dissolves all things to where there is always peace, and a sense of joy.

For many of us, the coming of Jesus, is the beginning of God's love.

It is the reality that the kingdom of God is not only anticipated, but it has arrived!

With the very first declaration to, "Fear not!" to the appearance of a heavenly star, the unconditional love of God greets us each day as we look in the mirror and as we meet one another.

​Every time that we welcome the stranger, help our neighbor, and offer assistance or give away one of something that we possess two of, we are embracing God's love.

​Don't find yourself being Ebenezer Scrooge and waiting until the early morning hours of Christmas day after being visited by several spirits offering up a way to change your life, the anticipated arrival of Jesus has already occurred and he continues to live in us!

​God's love is within us and needs to be shared!

Stay in God's love and in God's grip!

​G. Todd Williams (c) 2018