In 1939, with the recent outbreak of war for Britain, King George VI sought in his Christmas Day radio broadcast to encourage citizens of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth to put their trust in God. Quoting a poem that his mother found precious, he said: “Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the Hand of God. / That shall be to you better than light, and safer than a known way.” He didn’t know what the new year would bring, but he trusted God to “guide and uphold” them in the anxious days ahead.

The image of God’s hand appears in many places in the Bible, including in the book of Isaiah. Through this prophet, God called His people to trust that He as their Creator, “the first and . . . the last” (Isaiah 48:12), would remain involved with them. As He says, “My own hand laid the foundations of the earth, and my right hand spread out the heavens” (v. 13). They should put their trust in Him and not look to those less powerful. After all, He’s their “Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel” (v. 17).

Whatever we face as we look toward the new year, we can follow the encouragement of King George and the prophet Isaiah and place our hope and trust in God. Then, for us too, our peace will be like the river, our “well-being like the waves of the sea” (v. 18).

Jim has been battling a motor neuron disease for more than a year. The neurons in his muscles are breaking down, and his muscles are wasting away. He’s lost his fine-motor skills and is losing his ability to control his limbs. He can no longer button his shirt or tie his shoelaces, and using a pair of chopsticks has become impossible. Jim struggles with his situation and asks, Why is God allowing this to happen? Why me?

He’s in good company with many other believers in Jesus who have brought their questions to God. In Psalm 13, David cries out, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?” (vv. 1-2).

We too can take our confusion and questions to God. He understands when we cry out “How long?” and “Why?” His ultimate answer is given to us in Jesus and His triumph over sin and death.

As we look at the cross and the empty tomb, we gain confidence to trust in God’s “unfailing love” (v. 5) and rejoice in His salvation. Even in the darkest nights, we can “sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to [us]” (v. 6). Through our faith in Christ, He’s forgiven our sins, adopted us as His children, and is accomplishing His eternal good purpose in our lives.

When I was a young boy in Ohio, we lived near several construction sites. Inspired by them, my friends and I gathered leftover scraps to build a fort. Borrowing tools from our parents, we hauled wood and spent days trying to make our material serve our purposes. It was fun, but our attempts were poor reflections of the well-constructed buildings around us. They didn’t last long.

In Genesis 11, we encounter a major building construction project. “Let us build ourselves a city,” said the people, “with a tower that reaches to the heavens” (v. 4). A big problem with this effort was that the people did it to “make a name for ourselves” (v. 4).

This has been a recurring issue for humans; we build monuments to ourselves and our achievements. Later in the biblical narrative, this story is contrasted with Solomon’s motivation for building God’s temple: “I intend, therefore, to build a temple for the Name of the Lord my God” (1 Kings 5:5).

Solomon understood that what he built needed to point to God and not himself. This was such an important lesson that he even wrote a psalm about it. Psalm 127 opens with “unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain” (v. 1). Like my childhood fort-building, what we build will not last, but God’s name and what we do for Him has lasting significance. 

John was devastated when he lost his job. Closer to the end of his career than the beginning, he knew it would be hard to start over somewhere new. He started praying for the right job. Then John updated his resume, read interview tips, and made a lot of phone calls. After weeks of applying, he accepted a new position with a great schedule and an easy commute. His faithful obedience and God’s provision had met at the perfect intersection.

A more dramatic instance of this occurred with Jochebed (Exodus 6:20) and her family during the time of Israel’s enslavement in Egypt. When Pharaoh decreed that all newborn Hebrew sons must be cast into the Nile (1:22), Jochebed must have been terrified. She couldn’t change the law, but there were some steps she could take to obey God and try to save her son. In faith, she hid him from the Egyptians. She made a little, watertight papyrus basket and “put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile” (2:3). God stepped in to miraculously preserve his life (vv. 5-10) and later used him to deliver all of Israel from slavery (3:10).

John and Jochebed took very different steps, but both stories are marked by faith-filled action. Fear can paralyze us. Even if the result isn’t what we expected or hoped for, faith empowers us to keep trusting in God’s goodness regardless of the outcome.

In the novel About Grace, David Winkler longs to find his estranged daughter, and Herman Sheeler is the only person who can help him. But there’s a hitch. David’s daughter was born from David’s affair with Herman’s wife, and Herman had warned him never to contact them again.

Decades pass before David writes to Herman, apologizing for what he’s done. “I have a hole in my life because I know so little about my daughter,” he adds, begging for information about her. He waits to see if Herman will help him.

How should we treat those who’ve wronged us? The king of Israel faced this question after his enemies were miraculously delivered into his hands (2 Kings 6:8-20). “Shall I kill them?” he asks the prophet Elisha. No, Elisha says. “Set food and water before them so that they may eat and drink and then go back to their master” (vv. 21-22). Through this act of grace, Israel finds peace with its enemies (v. 23).

Herman replies to David’s letter, invites him to his home and cooks him a meal. “Lord Jesus,” he prays before they eat, “thank You for watching over me and David all these years.” He helps David find his daughter, and David later saves his life. In God’s hands, our acts of grace toward those who’ve wronged us often result in a blessing to us.

The year 2022 was very special for my wife and me. That’s the year our granddaughter, Sophia Ashley, was born—the only granddaughter among our eight grandchildren. Sophia’s grandparents haven’t stopped smiling! When our son calls via video, the excitement gets ramped up even more. My wife and I may be in different rooms, but her joyful holler reveals that she’s getting a glimpse of Sophia. Seeing those we love from afar is now only a call or click away.

The ability to see the person we’re talking to on the phone is relatively new, but face time with God—prayer with a conscious awareness of being in His presence—is not. David’s prayer in Psalm 27—voiced in the midst of opposition that required assistance beyond the capability of the closest human allies (vv. 10-12)—includes these words: “My heart has heard you say, ‘Come and talk with me.’ And my heart responds, ‘Lord, I am coming’ ” (v. 8 nlt).

Difficult times rightly compel us to “seek his face” (v. 8). But that’s not the only time we can or should be in face-to-face fellowship with the one in whose “presence is fullness of joy”; at His “right hand are pleasures forevermore” (16:11 nkjv). If you listen closely, at any time you may hear Him say, “Come and talk with me.”

It felt like we’d been waiting forever for news that our pregnant neighbor had welcomed her first baby. When a sign declaring “It’s a Girl!” finally appeared on their front lawn, we celebrated the birth of their daughter and texted friends who might not have seen the outdoor display.

There’s great excitement awaiting the arrival of a baby. Before Jesus’ birth, the Jewish people hadn’t just been waiting a few months, they’d longed for the birth of the Messiah, Israel’s expected rescuer, for generations. I imagine that over the years faithful Jews wondered if during their lifetime they would see the fulfillment of this promise. 

One night the long-anticipated news was displayed in the heavens when an angel appeared to shepherds in Bethlehem announcing that the Messiah had finally been born. He told them, “This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:12). After the shepherds saw Jesus, they praised God and “spread the word” (v. 17) about the baby.

God wanted the shepherds to know that the long-awaited baby had arrived so they could tell others about Jesus’ birth. We still celebrate His birth because His life provides rescue from the brokenness of the world to anyone who believes. We no longer have to wait to know peace and experience joy, which is good news worth announcing!

My husband and I have always enjoyed attending the Christmas Eve service at our church. In the early years of our marriage, we had a special tradition of bundling up in warm clothing after the service to hike up a nearby hill where 350 glowing lights were strung from tall poles in the shape of a star. There—often in the snow—we’d whisper our reflections on Jesus’ miraculous birth while we gazed out over the city. Meanwhile, many people in the town were looking up at the bright, string-light star from the valley below.

That star is a reminder of the birth of our Savior. The Bible tells of magi “from the east” who arrived in Jerusalem seeking “the one who [had] been born king of the Jews” (Matthew 2:1-2). They’d been watching the skies and had seen the star “when it rose” (v. 2). Their journey took them onward from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, the star going “ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was” (v. 9). There, they “bowed down and worshiped him” (v. 11).

Christ is the source of light in our lives both figuratively (as the one who guides us) and literally as the one who created the sun, moon, and stars in the sky (Colossians 1:15-16). Like the magi who “were overjoyed” when they saw His star (Matthew 2:10), our greatest delight is in knowing Him as the Savior who came down from the heavens to dwell among us. “We have seen his glory” (John 1:14)! 

Gregory of Nazianzus and Basil of Caesarea were celebrated leaders in the fourth-century church and also close friends. They first met as philosophy students, and Gregory later said that they became like “two bodies with a single spirit.”

With their career paths so similar, rivalry could’ve arisen between Gregory and Basil. But Gregory explained that they avoided this temptation by making a life of faith, hope, and good deeds their “single ambition,” then “spurring each other on” to make the other more successful in this goal than themselves individually. As a result, both grew in faith and rose to high levels of leadership without rivalry.

The book of Hebrews is written to help us stay strong in faith (Hebrews 2:1), encouraging us to focus on “the hope we profess” and to “spur one another on toward love and good deeds” (10:23-24). While this command is given in the context of a congregation (v. 25), by applying it to their friendship, Gregory and Basil showed how friends can encourage each other to grow and avoid any “bitter root,” such as rivalry that might grow between them (12:15).

What if we made faith, hope, and good deeds the ambition of our own friendships, then encouraged our friends to become more successful in this goal than ourselves individually? The Holy Spirit is ready to help us do both.

As I sat next to my friend Margaret, who was lying in her hospital bed, I took in the bustle and activity of the other patients, medical staff, and visitors. A young woman sitting nearby with her ailing mother asked Margaret, “Who are all the people who keep visiting you?” She responded, “They’re members of my church family!” The young woman remarked that she’d never seen anything like it; she felt as if the many visitors were “like tangible love poured out.” Margaret replied, smiling, “It all comes down to our love of God through His Son Jesus Christ!”

In her response, Margaret echoed the disciple John, who in his final years wrote three letters brimming with love. In his first letter, he said, “God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them” (1 John 4:16). That is, those who acknowledge “that Jesus is the Son of God” (v. 15) have God living in them through “his Spirit” (v. 13). How can we lovingly care for others? “We love because he first loved us” (v. 19).

Because of the gift of God’s love, visiting Margaret hadn’t felt like a hardship to me or others in our church. I received more than I gave, not only from Margaret, but through observing her gentle witness about her Savior, Jesus. How might God love others through you today?