Overshadowed for Purpose

It had been 15 years since I’d spent Thanksgiving with my family. So my sons and I flew to Southern California to surprise them. We hid inside while everyone gathered for brunch, and I told the boys to walk out and say hello like they’d just seen their grandparents yesterday.

Ezekiel had a better idea. He walked up to Grandma and told her I’d kicked them out of the house and they had to live with Uncle Robert now. She was so confused. Then my dad looked over, recognized the boys, and pretty soon everybody was hugging.

That reunion made me happy. It also got me thinking about the words we sing every Christmas. What would it actually look like to bring joy to the world? To our country? To our city? To the people around our own dinner table?

Somewhere between wanting everyone to have a good Christmas and trying to make it happen, I can start carrying a weight God never asked me to carry. That’s why I love the way the Christmas story begins.

Mary’s Question and Her Yes

When the angel tells Mary she will give birth to Jesus, she asks a question I probably would have asked too. How can this be?

I love that Mary asks a real question. She hears the answer, and she gives God her yes before she knows what that yes will cost her. I recognize how quickly I do the opposite. I feel the pressure, jump into problem-solving mode, and start telling Jesus how I think He should handle things. Sometimes I even call that prayer.

Joy begins to take shape in us when we respond to God’s presence with trust.

Life, Direction, and Perspective

Mary’s story echoes two other moments in Scripture. In Exodus 40:34–38, God’s glory fills the tabernacle. When the cloud lifts, Israel moves. When it stays, they stay. Imagine getting everything packed and ready to go and realizing the cloud hasn’t moved. God’s presence set the pace for the whole camp.

In Matthew 17:1–8, a bright cloud covers Jesus and the disciples on the mountain. Peter has an idea about putting up shelters. Then the Father speaks from the cloud and tells them to listen to Jesus. That’s a word I need whenever I’m halfway through making plans and haven’t stopped to listen.

With Mary, God’s presence brings life. With Israel, it gives direction. On the mountain, it gives the disciples perspective. I wonder how often I ask God for all three while I’m already rushing out the door.

My Story — What a Rain Stick Taught Me

When I was coming out of years of addiction, I went to Bible school to get clean and find Jesus. During one session on worship, our teacher brought out a collection of instruments. The one I picked up was a rain stick. You turn it over and it sounds like rain. I was just having fun with it at first.

Then the room seemed to fill with something so thick I could barely see the people in front of me. I lost track of time. I remember dancing, playing that rain stick, and praising God with everything I had.

Somewhere in that moment, it hit me. I was created to worship.

My kids still get embarrassed when I dance, so apparently that part stuck. But what stayed with me most was discovering something about who I was in Christ. I’d spent years knowing what I wanted to be free from. In that room, I caught a glimpse of what I was free for.

Where Do You Need God to Overshadow You?

When you feel unqualified. Isaiah comes undone in God’s presence. God deals with his guilt, and Isaiah answers, “Here am I. Send me!” Where might God be asking you to make yourself available? (Isaiah 6:1–8)

When shame has the loudest voice. Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well. She goes back to town and tells people about Him, and many come to believe. What part of your story might Jesus use to help someone else come to Him? (John 4:1–30, 39–42)

When fear has taken something from you. Peter denies Jesus three times. After the resurrection, Jesus meets him again and entrusts him with caring for His people. Where do you need to hear Jesus call you forward again? (Luke 22:54–62 and John 21:15–19)

A Prayer

Holy Spirit, come into the places I’ve been trying to handle on my own. Heal what still hurts. Quiet the voice of shame and remind me who I am in Jesus. Give me the courage to say yes to what You’re asking of me. Let the people around me experience Your joy through the way I listen, love, and serve. Amen.