Author: Fran Carona, Ph.D.

I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and licensed clinical psychologist.

Embracing Ordinary Days: A Journey of Gratitude

If you have ever gone through a period of time when your life was in chaos, when nothing seemed to be right, you will understand what I am about to say: I am thankful for ordinary days. This thought has been rattling around in my brain for a few weeks now and struck me again this morning: I am thankful for ordinary days.

I was out walking my dogs on this beautiful October morning when the thought struck me again. We are blessed to live in a relatively quiet, relatively ordinary neighborhood, with a walking trail around a small pond. This morning, those who had to be at work or school had already left. The only people out were other dog walkers and fitness walkers. It was quiet and peaceful. There were no air raid sirens warning me of incoming rockets. I didn’t have to pick my way through the rubble of bombed out buildings. I didn’t have to slosh through streams of mud trying to find the remains of my house, my life. I thought of my sister Tammy and her husband Frank who are driving north through Florida evacuation traffic, trying to get their newly purchased RV out of the path of the next hurricane. Yes, ordinary is good.

It’s not that my life is boring. We just got back from a few days in Colorado to visit our granddaughter. We got to enjoy the majesty of the Rocky Mountains, trying to absorb the breathtaking show the Aspens are presenting. “Oh, look at that one! Look over there! So beautiful!” Such beautiful golds and yellows against the backdrop of evergreens. Even the fallen leaves looked like piles of gold coins. 

I came home to piles of laundry and I am grateful. Grateful for an abundance of clothes, for clean, running water and electricity. Ordinary…until you don’t have them. As I consider these ordinary blessings, I consider my counterparts, here in America and around the world, women who would gladly trade problems. I pray for them, that God will meet their needs, physical and spiritual. And I again thank Jesus for this beautiful ordinary day.

THE COLLEGE GOODBYE

We have another grandchild who is about to be launched and I have such a mixture of feelings about it.  I guess you could say I am “sad-cited.” I am sad to see my active grandparenting years come to an end (although they never really do), but so excited to see him live his next chapter. Mix those feelings with a bit of angst about the dangers that lurk about, and I guess you get the picture. Where did that little boy go? He should still be toddling through our house with his Blues Clues “handy dandy notebook” looking for clues.

He is our 7th grand, so this is not our first dance. I had made him a little “college survival kit” and then Jerry and I took him out for a celebration dinner last night. He is so ready for this next step. But I must tell you, it was hard to see him drive off last night. I was surprised at the emotion I felt. He is only going down the road to Stillwater, for Pete’s sake. (A little play on words…IYKYK). But things will be different. 

I was flooded with memories last night of times when our house was filled with grandchildren. Of times when the playroom would be strewn with Fisher price toys, of impromptu talent shows, and giggles during sleepovers. The youngest of our 9 is now 14 and busy, busy, busy!  I was trying to remember the last sleepover we had, but it is all a blur. That is the thing about last times. You usually don’t recognize them as such.

I was also remembering our own college drop-offs and thinking about our daughter who has her own mixed feelings about her grownup boy leaving the nest: excitement, pride, worry, and so much love. I keep telling her it will be okay, because it will be. I can remember the gut-wrenching loss I felt when we left our 3 daughters at college, and how ready I was for them to go back to school by the time Christmas break was over. 

 I have decided that this motherhood thing is one long series of putting the baby in the basket. I must trust that God loves them more than I do, and He has good plans for them. As I was praying for them this morning, my thoughts were on the next school year. We will have 4 on college campuses, 2 in high school and 4 little great-grands who are just beginning this process. Lots of moving parts and lots of potential land mines. And God has it all covered.    

All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great will be their peace.  Isaiah 54:13

WHAT’S YOUR STORY

Someone was asking me yesterday about my training and background in psychology. I was recounting how most of my graduate school preparation was in neuropsychology. That is the direction I was headed, and while that is an interesting career, it held a drawback for me. When doing a neuropsychology evaluation, you take a history of the patient, and during this time they will tell you about their lives. For example, one of my assignments was at the Parent Child Center, where I would do evaluations on parents who had lost custody of their children, but were hoping for re-unification. I remember wanting to know how things went. Did they make changes in their lives? Were they able to have their children back? But I only had one day with them. If I were going to have a career in neuropsychology I would never know the rest of the story.

The not knowing was a frustration I thought I could live with until the day my dissertation chair told me I needed to do a therapy rotation. “You will not be able to get an internship if you don’t have some therapy experiences,” he said. So I reluctantly took his advice and never looked back! Psychotherapy came so naturally to me, but grinding out neuropsych evals was laborious. I quickly realized the therapy room is a sacred place. It is a privilege when people share their stories. Together we walk through the hard and look for solutions. Occasionally, the most I can do is weep with them. I remember one of my professors telling me that I would need to be able to sit with pain. Oh the pain some people experience! People ask me how I am able to do it. I don’t do it alone. I invite the Holy Spirit to come along side me.  

Even in my private life I want to hear the story. Before I ever even dreamed of going to school in my forties, strangers would approach me at the grocery store and begin telling me their life stories. I can remember a woman crying over the frozen food aisle. “How does that happen to you,” my husband would ask. I try to make a point to chat with the “invisible” people in my life: checkers, waitresses, etc. Even if we only have a few seconds, there is something powerful about being seen and heard.

We all have a story.  I used to think of my story as my story, but in later years I recognized that Jesus invited me into His story. It’s all about Him. Even though my story is not important, it is an honor to even be a line or a footnote in His great story of redemption. I was talking with my former pastor a few days ago. He is recently retired and we were discussing the fear many retirees have of becoming irrelevant, and then having that aha moment. We are irrelevant! And being at peace with that! My story is not even a blip on the world’s radar, but what an honor to have a tiny part of God’s story. I believe that God is still writing my story. What’s your story?

THE BUMPY ROAD

I recently discovered a beautiful magazine, Bella Grace. It is full of lovely images and inspiration for those of us who journal. In the current issue there is an article that inspired me: “33 Reasons Why the Bumpy Road is Always Better.” That title resonated with me because I took the bumpy road in life when I went to college at age 47.  That was some bumpy road! Things had changed a lot!  And the bumps got bigger when I went to graduate school.  There were days moments when I was looking for an on ramp to get back on the freeway. Maybe I should just drop out and go to lunch with my girlfriends! But I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and I got to the end of that particular bumpy road. I was the oldest graduate! So old that one of our local television stations sent out a news crew. “Old woman earns doctorate.”

Robert Frost describes our life choices beautifully in his narrative poem, “The Road Not Taken.” I have always seen myself in that poem. One thing I have learned over the years is that there are many different ways to live a life. Taking the bumpy road requires courage. I think of my granddaughter, Hannah who left behind everything familiar and moved to Colorado on her own because she wanted to live close to the mountains. She is flourishing! I always wanted to live close to the mountains too, but would never have had the courage to make a move like that in my twenties.

Using the article as a journaling prompt, I began a list in a small journal I am keeping.  Here are a few of my reasons; see if you can add some more.

Reasons Why the Bumpy Road is Always Better

  • It helps you find your true north and gets you to the place you were always meant to be.
  • The bumpy road is more interesting than the super highway.
  • Fast is not always better. There are lessons to be learned along the way, and learning takes time.
  • Even detours are a part of the plan.
  • You meet the most interesting people.
  • There are always hidden gifts to discover.
  • Bumpy roads develop trust muscles. I learned to trust God, others and myself.
  • Those bumps caused me to lean in closer to God and deepen my relationship with Him.
  • I learned I could do hard things and achieve my goals, even when they seem impossibly high.
  • Looking back, I can see that I created some of those bumps myself.  Choices have consequences. Once I figured out that God had a plan for me, and then got onboard with it, that bumpy road didn’t seem so impassable.
  • I hope I have carved out some hard-won ruts and left a trail for those coming behind me.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

GRACE

I am still basking in the glow of Easter Sunday.  Our church, like many, offered multiple worship times on this holiest of weekends, but for me, there is something so special about going to worship at 8:30 on Easter Sunday.  Calls of, “He is risen!” Answered by, “He is risen indeed!”  The atmosphere is one of joy, especially in contrast to the heaviness of Good Friday.

Our choir sang the most beautiful song on Sunday, one that was new to me: Jesus, I Give You Praise.   I quickly looked it up on the Internet, and I have been playing it over and over. Even this morning (Monday), I have tears as I sing along. While all the lyrics are beautiful, there is one line that captured my heart. “Your grace, it changed my life.” I have been thinking about those words and meditating on the grace of God. As only He can orchestrate, my Bible study group is studying Ephesians, a book that is saturated in grace. Also, I keep a Bible journal, and my word for this month is “grace.”  So I was primed to hear that line.

“Your grace, it changed my life.” So true! My life was going in one direction, and when I was 18, Jesus changed my trajectory. Although at that age I gave little thought to the course of my life, looking back I can see that I was headed down a path of destruction. I do not deserve to be where I am today.  Happily (but imperfectly) married, with a big (but imperfect) family. And most importantly, I have the privilege of being in relationship with Jesus. I get to share Him with others, write about Him and speak about Him, things I would never have done on my former course. His grace changed my life!

His grace showed me that I was a sinner, in need of a Savior. Even though I did not deserve it, He paid the price for my sins.  That is grace! His grace gave me hope and a new identity: Christian. His grace gave me a hunger for His Word. The old Fran couldn’t even understand the Bible; it might have well have been written in the original Greek. His grace gave me a desire to know Him more deeply. His grace planted me into a fellowship of Believers; my best friends are the ones I can pray with and with whom I can discuss the things of God. It is by his grace that I enjoy the blessings of and endure the trials of this life. His grace secured my final destination. I know that one day I will go into His presence and live there for eternity.

I invite you to find this song and sing along. Lift up your own holy hands and worship Him. His grace truly is amazing!

DREAM HOME

This morning as I was drinking my coffee and trying to come to, a random memory popped up.  I don’t know why, unless it was because I was at our granddaughter’s middle school last night. She was being inducted into the National Junior Honor Society (Go Livvy!), but my memory had nothing to do with NJHS. It was a junior high school memory however. I had a flashback to an assignment out homemaking teacher gave us. We were to create a Dream Home notebook.

Armed with scissors, magazines, and glue, I went after that assignment with a good deal of enthusiasm. I don’t remember exactly what my dream home looked like, but I know it was over the top! Downton Abbey pales in comparison. I had some serious delusions of grandeur! But it made me think, what is my dream home today? Immediately I realized, I am living in it.

Over the years my ideas about my dream home changed. I have lived in many different homes in my long life. Some were nice, others not so much. But all have been better than those of most of the world.  And larger for sure. I read that about half of the world lives on $5.50 per day. If you don’t believe you live well, go on a mission trip!

So let me tell you about my house. By American standards, and especially those of south Tulsa, it is pretty average. If you were to drive by, you wouldn’t hit the brakes and say, “What a fabulous house!” Although, in the spring you might ooh and ahh over Jerry Carona’s beautiful yard. The inside is nice, but not posh for sure. Not even fashionable. Southern Living is not calling to do a photo shoot. We just re-did our kitchen, but we need new floors and our master bathroom is outdated. In fact we are not even supposed to refer to it as a “master” bathroom any more. The house is beginning to show her age.

So why is it my dream home? It is not because of the design or the contents. It is not because it is beautifully decorated. I have friends who can work magic in their homes. I tend to put things in one place and leave them. It is not even because of the love or the memories we have created. It has to do with contentment.  

I have been thinking a good deal about contentment because of a talk I have been giving. I will tell you it has taken me a lifetime to get here, but it is a lovely place to be. Don’t get me wrong, I still like nice things, but I have enough.  More than enough! Jesus has taught me that my true dream home is in Him. Contentment and gratitude work together. One breeds the other. It is hard to be aware of and enjoy your blessings while you are wanting more and more, bigger and better. When God leads me into green pastures beside the still waters, I want to enjoy them! I don’t want to miss that peace and contentment by thinking about the next mountain I want to climb, or the next set of china I want to acquire. (Dishes! My kryptonite!)

My remedy for discontent is to keep a gratitude journal. The more blessings I record, the more come to mind. I realize how very blessed I am.

But godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into thee world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content. 1 Tim. 6: 6-8  

Plans Interrupted

Amanda and Jay have been on a weeklong vacation in California with their friends Chris and Kristi.  Jay and Chris are both firefighters and work together in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. Chris is also a paramedic. Their plans to return home were interrupted by what meteorologists are calling an atmospheric river. In short, California is experiencing record-breaking rains, heavy snow in the mountains, and widespread floods. The drive to the airport Sunday was harrowing due to so much water on the roads. So they knew there was a good chance that their flight would get changed and that is indeed, what occurred. Instead of their original flight, they were re-routed with a layover that would not get them back to Tulsa until about 2:00 AM Monday morning. With full workdays on Monday, this change of plans was an inconvenience to be sure.

It was on the changed flight that an emergency occurred. Chris and Kristi were seated near the front of the plane while Amanda and Jay were further back on the emergency exit row. With their earbuds in and engrossed in their iPads, neither Amanda nor Jay noticed a commotion at the front of the plane. But Amanda happened to look up and saw Chris gesturing and calling for Jay. She pulled out Jay’s earbud, he looked up, and bolted into action.

A man across the aisle from Chris had passed out. Not knowing what was wrong, Jay and Chris got him out of his seat, laid him in the aisle, and prepared to begin chest compressions. It took a few minutes but they learned from a traveling companion that the unconscious man was diabetic, and this was a case of severe hypoglycemia. Jay and Chris were quickly able to get his blood sugar regulated and return him to his seat. 

As Amanda was telling me this story, I was thinking about how our changed plans can actually be God’s divine appointment for us. Some might say that the man was lucky, that there just happened to be two EMTs on his flight. I would say it was God-ordained. How often do I get irritated at interruptions and inconveniences, when God might be opening a chance to share Jesus. Lord, help me to see my interruptions differently, as your ordained opportunities.

It also occurred to me that as Christians, we are all certified EMTs. We received our authority in Matthew 28 and Mark 16, where Jesus tells us to go into all the world and preach the gospel to a dying world. As humans, we will all face death. Some of those around us are in danger of entering eternity without a relationship with Jesus. The Bible tells us that they will spend eternity in hell. Lord, open my eyes to those around me who need to know You.

Jay and Chris, you are heroes! 

PUTTING AWAY CHRISTMAS

The older I get, the more difficult it becomes to decorate the house for Christmas.  It requires boxes of decorations being brought down from the attic, rearranging my furniture; ladders, and boxes and boxes of ornaments, greenery, and other assorted decorations to be put out; and at least two days of physical work that leave Jerry and I with backaches and stiff muscles.   We like to put everything up early so we have a long time to enjoy our tree and everything that goes with it. 

Of course, what goes up must come down.  That requires two more days of hard work and many trips up and down the stairs. After all the garlands and lights and ornaments are put away, I feel a mixture of emotions. I know I will be glad to get my house back in order, but I will miss the lights of the Christmas tree in the mornings when I get up and drink my coffee from a favorite Christmas mug.  And I miss the anticipation of Christmas.    

I love everything about Christmas: the lights, the music, the smells, the foods, and most of all, the relationships. I love carving out special times for special people…friends and family.  Our family keeps growing and changing, and with that needs change. We are going to need to alter our Christmas traditions next year. We now have married grandchildren, so in addition to the families of our sons-in-law, we have to schedule around another layer of in-laws who also want time. We have college grandchildren who return home at various times and a working granddaughter who lives out of state and can only be home for a few days. Even our grands that live here have work schedules and constant activities we must work around. Twenty-four people with twenty-four different needs. 

As I put away Christmas this year, I have no idea what it will look like next year. For this mother hen who loves all her chicks close to the nest, it is hard to be flexible, but that is what I must be. As for Jerry and I, we are acutely aware that this is another bonus Christmas after his close brush with death a few years ago. We now have more widowed friends, and the number grows every year. Maybe it is the knowledge that time is running out that makes me treasure each Christmas. I used to tease my grandmother for saying, “I wonder how many more Christmases we will have to all be together.”  Now I get it. 

I guess relationships are the most important part of Christmas.  After all, relationship is the reason we have Christmas in the first place.  God desired a relationship with man, so he came to earth to dwell among us and provide a way for us to be in relationship with Him.  

As I pack away Christmas, I want to keep part of it all year long.  My greatest gifts are my relationships.  My relationship with Jesus is primary.  But my family is my treasure.  I’m so blessed to have my husband and our children, grandchildren, and now four little greats!  We are so blessed to be a part of a large and loving family.  We are a part of a vibrant and loving church family.  We are blessed with many friends and acquaintances we enjoy.  

Thank you, Lord for Christmas.  Help me to celebrate all year long! 

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.  Psalm 90:12 (NIV).  

LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered–how fleeting my life is.  Psalm 39:4 (NLT).

The older I get, the more difficult it becomes to decorate the house for Christmas.  It requires boxes of decorations being brought down from the attic, rearranging my furniture; ladders, and boxes and boxes of ornaments, greenery, and other assorted decorations to be put out; and at least two days of physical work that leave Jerry and I with backaches and stiff muscles.   We like to put everything up early so we have a long time to enjoy our tree and everything that goes with it. 

Of course, what goes up must come down.  That requires two more days of hard work and many trips up and down the stairs. After all the garlands and lights and ornaments are put away, I feel a mixture of emotions. I know I will be glad to get my house back in order, but I will miss the lights of the Christmas tree in the mornings when I get up and drink my coffee from a favorite Christmas mug.  And I miss the anticipation of Christmas.    

I love everything about Christmas: the lights, the music, the smells, the foods, and most of all, the relationships. I love carving out special times for special people…friends and family.  Our family keeps growing and changing, and with that needs change. We are going to need to alter our Christmas traditions next year. We now have married grandchildren, so in addition to the families of our sons-in-law, we have to schedule around another layer of in-laws who also want time. We have college grandchildren who return home at various times and a working granddaughter who lives out of state and can only be home for a few days. Even our grands that live here have work schedules and constant activities we must work around. Twenty-four people with twenty-four different needs. 

As I put away Christmas this year, I have no idea what it will look like next year. For this mother hen who loves all her chicks close to the nest, it is hard to be flexible, but that is what I must be. As for Jerry and I, we are acutely aware that this is another bonus Christmas after his close brush with death a few years ago. We now have more widowed friends, and the number grows every year. Maybe it is the knowledge that time is running out that makes me treasure each Christmas. I used to tease my grandmother for saying, “I wonder how many more Christmases we will have to all be together.”  Now I get it. 

I guess relationships are the most important part of Christmas.  After all, relationship is the reason we have Christmas in the first place.  God desired a relationship with man, so he came to earth to dwell among us and provide a way for us to be in relationship with Him.  

As I pack away Christmas, I want to keep part of it all year long.  My greatest gifts are my relationships.  My relationship with Jesus is primary.  But my family is my treasure.  I’m so blessed to have my husband and our children, grandchildren, and now four little greats!  We are so blessed to be a part of a large and loving family.  We are a part of a vibrant and loving church family.  We are blessed with many friends and acquaintances we enjoy.  

Thank you, Lord for Christmas.  Help me to celebrate all year long! 

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.  Psalm 90:12 (NIV).  

LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered–how fleeting my life is.  Psalm 39:4 (NLT).

LET THERE BE LIGHT

The light in our closet went out Saturday night, right as we were getting ready for bed. It is a florescent light and we were out of florescent tubes. I don’t know why but burned out lights really bother me. I used to have nightmares about all the lights in the house going out and being out of light bulbs. Saturday had been a busy day, so we decided to pick up some tubes after church the next day.  That meant on Sunday morning we would be picking out clothes by the light of our cell phones.

         Jerry: “Does this sweater go with these pants?” 

         Me: “Umm, no.  Try again.”

I was still thinking about light (and darkness) when we went to our small group. Our lesson was on the first chapter of Genesis and I was reminded again about the importance of light. Evidently I am not the only one who thinks light is essential, because God created it on the very first day. God, in His orderly fashion of creation knew that light is vital to sustain the earth. Light from the sun warms the earth, and provides energy for plants to grow. Without light, the earth would be an uninhabitable ball of ice. 

One of the main reasons humans need light is to see.  Without light we would be stumbling around in the darkness, trying to avoid obstacles. We would get lost. We could not survive. Sean Dietrich is a writer that I follow and you should too. He is a gifted storyteller and a keen observe of the world. Sean likes to write about a blind dog named Marigold that he rescued. Marigold needs Sean to be her eyes, her light. In fact, experts say Marigold would not have survived without Sean. You can read Marigold’s sad backstory on Sean’s website.  

As we move into the Christmas season, think about God sending His Son to be the Light of the World. God knew that we need light for our physical lives as well as our spiritual lives. Without Jesus we are spiritually blind and dead. When Jesus enters your life you can see! You can see your spiritual condition, how lost you are. When you invite him into your life, He becomes your vision!  You see things in a different way.  And you are no longer dead. The minute you say, “yes” to Christ, you begin your eternal life.

Just as Marigold cannot survive without Sean, we cannot survive without Jesus. Oh we may think we can. In fact, we may think we are doing pretty well without Him.  But our story is not over yet. We can’t see our true condition because we are spiritually blind.

Jerry and I have been moved to pray for our world, for another Great Awakening that we believe is coming. So many are stumbling around in darkness. They are trying to live a life blindly. The Gospel of John declares Jesus as “the true light which gives light to everyone.”  Jesus spoke of Himself as the Light of the world, “whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

With the coming of Christmas there are so many items on our “to do” lists.  Shopping, wrapping, cleaning, cooking, and entertaining. With that much to do it will be easy to miss the light. If you are reading these words, this is my prayer for you: If you have never received this light named Jesus, I would urge you to take a moment, bow your head and confess your need for Him. Invite Him into your life to light your way. If you would like to know more about the Light, read the first chapter of John. For those of you who already believe, I pray that you slow down and take some time each day to talk with Jesus and thank Him for entering our dark world and changing it forever.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that light was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:1-5 NIV

A BABY CHANGES EVERYTHING

A few years ago there was a commercial for some baby product…I can’t remember which… that ended with the statement, “A baby changes everything.” There is a giant truth wrapped in those four words. Almost from the moment of conception, things change and they never go back to the way they were. Our family has had four new babies in four years and these four little ones have rocked our world. We have seen our daughter and her husband become grandparents, which means that Jerry and I have become great-grandparents!  That feels like a seismic change. It also means that we are old, but that is a different post for another day.

If you have any expectant parents in your life you know that they take baby preparations very seriously. Everything from pacifiers to pediatrician is carefully researched, compared, and discussed.  And so much baby equipment! What kind of crib? Which type of diapers? And there are so many options for strollers I don’t know how you ever decide. There is even a swaddling bassinet that rocks and soothes baby back to sleep as soon as baby stirs. When I think about my own babies I wonder how they ever survived to adulthood. I remember bringing my newborns home from the hospital in my arms.  In the front seat!

Not everyone is thrilled when they get the news that a baby is coming.  Some may feel that they are not ready to be parents, that the timing is wrong, that they have a different plan for their lives. Others are just plain terrified. I think that is part of the reason God gives us nine months of pregnancy. It takes that long to prepare, to get mentally, physically, and emotionally ready for the new life that will change your life. And even for those who have planned and longed for the birth of their baby, it takes time to move from wanting a sweet little baby to being prepared to parent a demanding, crying infant who entirely depends on you.

For the last several days I have been thinking about getting ready for Christmas and Advent. In fact our pastor began to preach on the birth of Jesus and he talked about Mary, about the unexpected interruption into her life.  I wonder what it was like to get such an incredible announcement. The news the angel delivered was impossible, and yet, nothing is impossible with God. She had a choice to make, and in that moment Mary moved from someone who believed in God to one who believed God.  There is a difference. Even though Mary immediately said yes to God, I can imagine that she needed time to prepare her own heart to become the mother of the Messiah.  A huge task for a young girl, but not too huge for a great God. Mary’s baby would change everything! 

Every year Christmas comes with hustle and bustle. And so many preparations! We get physically ready. We decorate, we shop, we wrap, and we bake. We make lists and we strategize. Just as Mary brought Christ into the world, by and large it is women who bring Christmas into the home. We may need to get emotionally ready to deal with difficult family members or we may be grieving the loss of a loved one.

We make all these preparations, but do we spiritually prepare? This year I want to do more Advent devotionals, and pray more. I want to prepare my heart for more than a sweet baby in a manger. I want to be ready for the King of Kings, the cosmic Christ whose birth changed the world forever. Like Mary, we have been called to bear Christ to the world and I too want to say yes to God.  As my pastor said, God’s interruption in my life is better than any plans I might have. I want to open the door to my heart and say, “Come, Lord Jesus,” and I want to mean those words in all their fullness.

Have you ever said yes to Jesus?

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.’ Rev. 3:20 NIV