Blog post by Ashley Bowie, a child at heart, and a weirdy to the core.

I’m a believer. I am inclined toward belief. As a kid I would get lost in stories that featured characters whose lives seemed to carry this inexplicable sense of purpose. They would start their days in a drifting prose, unexpected things would happen to them and they would gasp, the world would slow down and they would have a moment. They would have this really life altering moment. I believe in those moments. It irked me as a kid that I would wake up to the stubbornly ordinary of my life, I would walk through the world with my hands facing out, no joke, not lifted up or raised but facing out, ready for my moment. I would build stories for people I had never met, dream up impossibly heroic scenarios for myself and I would wait. Wait to be told that my necklace that I bought at a flea market was actually magical, or that the boy I liked recognized a pattern in my freckles that meant I was a descendant of a goddess.

I was a weird kid, I don’t mind if you think that. But you have to admit there is a trace of that same kind of weird in all of us. We all want to think that there is more to the world than what we face every day, than slugging through our own routines and emotions, putting up with the world's imperfections like there is no solution, wishing for superheroes, and magic items that tell us how to fix the problems, how to rise out of ordinary and show the world something astounding for a change.

Christmas feels like magic. Maybe less so now than when I was young, but I still thrill at our tendency to light up the dark with our symbols of peace and hope and joy, raging against the cold indifference of winter running its course, and pressing light and joy into the empty night. I still delight in bringing the wild into my home, in thinking sincerely about all the people I love and how I can show them what they mean to me. I’d like to believe that the right combination of Christmas cookies and well spoken words of love will shift the balance of the world out of chaos and hate, and have us all leaning into love and peace.

Above all I believe in words. When God created the world, He spoke it into existence. Jesus made sick people well with His words, nations have been rallied to war, comfort is delivered, freedom is declared, love is proclaimed, all by the delicate process of air through lips, words on a page.

A prophecy was delivered, shouted through centuries, clung to in sleepless nights, hoped for, fought for and then whispered as a baby was born among the least of these, raised in adversity, rallied against injustice and delivered peace to the world if we would have it.

Behold, the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone. - Isaiah 9:2

I love this verse. I can hear the shattered pieces, like a whisper right against my heart, like a memory and a reminder.

The people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light, and for those dwelling in the region and shadow of death, on them a light has dawned. - Matthew 4:16

Jesus came into this world, to find the lost, to save them, to rescue them from destruction. When we think of this, our minds go to the cross. We think of the sacrifice of Jesus. He shed His blood, He paid our price. He ransomed us from the clutches of death and brought us in to be adopted as His brothers and sisters. He did, I will not contradict that. But the very first thing he did, His first act as human was to shine a light upon those walking in darkness.

We stumble about, we hurt each other out of ignorance and sometimes out of fear or hate but mostly the fear and hate is because of something we don’t understand, something we cannot see. But behold, a people walking in darkness have seen a great light. For 33 years before He died, Jesus shone his light on the world, He illuminated the dark places for us. He taught us how to love, how to face down hatred and run the race despite the fear.

I was walking once, through the fresh snow, with those massive flakes falling gently around me, insulating me from the noise of the world. Everything felt so calm and peaceful and I just stopped. I wasn’t thinking anything in particular, I wasn’t on some important mission or feeling very full of purpose. But I stopped there on the sidewalk and looked around me at the world blanketed in glittering white and I had one of those moments. I felt the whole world slow down and I opened my palms and thought; “I will walk in the light, I will welcome the relief from the darkness, I will hold out my hands to those who crave the light.”

In the dead of winter, on the longest and coldest nights we put lights on our houses, we remember the baby king, we celebrate His life. We celebrate light. May we not clutter the season with obligations and desperate attempts at magic moments. May we see the glorious light, may we reach out to those walking in darkness, as Christ our light and our life has shown us, has shone upon us, has not only died, but lived for us.

Deck the halls 2016 was one of the funnest events we have had! There was food, laughter, games, decorating and yes there was a snowball fight (fake snowballs of course). Below you will find a few of our favorite pictures from the event. 

If you don't find your picture within this photo stream or would like to download your picture for your family Christmas card, click here and you can find all the photos from the night. 

We would ask that if you do share your picture on social media that you would use the #RedeemerDeckTheHalls so we can see the compilation of photos and messages throughout the social media world. 

We hope you enjoy all the fun photos. See you all next year. 

This week’s blog is by Becca Wellan.

It’s a Saturday afternoon. I hear the rain pouring down on the roof and the deep, whirring sound of the vacuum. My mom is downstairs, getting our dear home ready to decorate with shimmering lights and that horrible singing Santa (oh you better watch out).

I’m curled up by the fire in my favorite, cozy chair. The room is dark, except for the lamp my dad brought over for me. A Charlie Brown Christmas (my favorite) is playing softly, and I (tragically) finished off my coffee two hours ago but I’m too cozy (read: lazy) to make the treacherous journey downstairs to the Keurig.

So here I sit, reading and writing and soaking in the sounds of the holidays as the day slips by. Without my coffee.

The season of Advent is here. I never celebrated Advent before and really, all I know about it is that it’s a time of preparing your heart for the coming of Jesus, and eating chocolate.

I love Jesus. I love chocolate. But I never gave much thought to Advent.

In days of Christmas past, the 25th would come in a whirlwind of wrapping paper and I’d find myself trying to find the “reason for the season” as I lay on the couch in a food coma after eating WAY too many of my (somewhat doughy but thoroughly addictive) cinnamon rolls.

Thank you Jesus for being born, I’d pray. And thank you for presents. And cinnamon rolls. Bless the hands that made them (mine). Amen.

And that’d be that. But not this year.

This year, my heart is desperate for hope amidst hurt and aching and trying to figure it all out and starting over, and over and over again. My heart is longing to be filled with the hope that is already ours, because God wrapped Himself in human skin and bones. Because a baby named Jesus was born.

Advent means coming. And not as in “Santa Claus is coming.” Just like Lent is a time to prepare your soul for celebrating a risen King, Advent is a time to prepare your soul for celebrating the coming of Jesus. Like God’s people hoped for a Savior before Jesus was born, we posture our hearts to anticipate His coming too.

But it’s tricky to anticipate the birth of Jesus because we already know the story (thanks, Linus). We know that “unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a savior, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11). We know He went to a cross, died and rose again to absorb the punishment of hell and separation from God that we had coming. We know He did it all, with us on His heart.

We know a lot of things, but what we know doesn’t always invade our daily reality.
The oh-NO-I-lost-my-keys-again reality.
The my-heart-is-broken reality.
The I-burnt-the-toast-again reality.
The I-feel-like-a-failure-at-my-job reality.
The I-am-stressed-out-of-my-mind reality.

In the midst of our mundane, bitter, difficult but sometimes pretty great reality, we are in danger of overlooking the stunning miracle that is the birth of Christ. Not just in a whirlwind of holiday fluster, but throughout the entire year. We miss out on this heart-changing reality: a baby in a manger gives us hope for the days when you feel overwhelmed and hopeless. Ya’ll been there? I have. Or, hope for the days when the dull pain of heartache in your chest just won’t go away, no matter how many deep breaths you take. Or how many cinnamon rolls you eat.

When you think of “hope,” what comes to mind? For me, the word “hope” conjures up images of a walk-in-closet filled with flannel. And a box of donuts. And bacon. Lot’s of bacon.

But we all need a greater hope than mere wishful thinking. Biblical hope is not a cross-your-fingers type of hope (like, I hope I’ll learn how to not burn toast). These are things we tell ourselves to make us feel better. The sad truth is, we bank our current happiness on these little hopes. We wish for what we can never truly rest in.

God’s hope never operates like our little hopes.

No, the hope of God is a hope that is secure. God is faithful, He never changes. When He promised to send a Savior, He did. The same God that fulfilled His promise then is the same God that will fulfill His promises to us, today.

Because of His unchanging character, we can look into the future and expect, with absolute confidence and trust, that God will do exactly what He says He will do. He will care for us exactly how He says He will.

Please celebrate this with me! God is not like us, His love never changes.

God promises to change us, so throughout our lives we will become more like Him (2 Corinthians 3:18). When you’re struggling with sin, you can have hope that God will transform you. He promises that He will work ALL things for the good of those who love Him, so in the midst of suffering you can have hope that it will be for your benefit and God will use it in your life (Romans 8:28). When God promised to go to prepare a place for us in heaven, we have hope that one day we will be home (John 14:2).

This is my comfort today, this very moment. God was faithful 2,000 years ago when He came as a baby, then grew into a man who was a dear friend of sinners, then died on a cross to save them. To save us. To save me, even though I mess up big time and also burn toast.

So I can say, with full confidence, that He will be faithful to me now, and everyday for the rest of my life. He will be my Savior, my greatest love, my comforter, and my constant source of peace.

May this be your hope too, fam. Merry Christmas!

Everyone's favorite event is back!

Last year was a blast! We decorated, took silly photos, celebrated and enjoyed great food together. This year we are pulling out all the stops and planning on the most fun we have ever had at our 5th Annual “Deck The Halls” Decorating Party. 

Come join us Thursday, December 1st from 6:00-8:00pm at Redeemer Church for a night of decorating the church for the Advent season and other festively fun things as a church family. Come enjoy games, decorating, photo booth and a potluck. 

As always, feel free to invite anyone, but please RSVP for them as well 

Since it is potluck, please see below for instructions on what to bring to the party. If your last name starts with:

A-D – Main Dish

E-H – Warm Side Dish

I-M – Cold Side Dish

N-Z – Dessert Dish

The Following Blog Post Is By Brandon Adent

I am a sucker for Christmas movies, and one of my favorites is National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. I’ve probably watched it too many times. Well, most of it. There’s two parts that I’ve actually never seen, that we were trained to fast-forward, so I still do. My sincere thanks to Mom and Dad for that one.

I love Christmas Vacation because, like most Christmas movies, the protagonist is in pursuit of the perfect Christmas and does everything he can to make it happen. When things don’t go as planned, he forges ahead.

Of course, everything breaks. And it’s hilarious.

But in the end, the whole thing comes out more memorable, and “the best Christmas ever”. Why wouldn’t it? Isn’t that how Christmas works?

Ignoring Pain in Pursuit of Perfection

Last week, I referenced a chapter in J.I. Packer’s classic Knowing God. In doing so, I was reminded of how much I love it and began to re-read it in preparation for Christmas.

Which, by the way, is next Friday. You’re welcome.

Anyway, I got to thinking about Christmas as our culture celebrates it. Bells, reindeer, elves, snow-people, sleighs and Santa all came to mind, joyful and happy, and that’s great. Christmas is a really joyous time of year for a lot of people, and it should be, because it is!

But, it’s also a really hard time for others, their emotions sort of get sidelined in the whole thing. We’d rather not think about pain. We'd rather pursue perfection.

As someone who has always enjoyed Christmas, who gets along with family, who has always had more than he needed, and for the most part been able to give without worry or shame, it can be hard identifying with people who aren’t amped out of their minds about the Christmas season.

Actually, I often ignore them. Or call them Scrooge or something.

As I re-read Packer’s chapter on the incarnation, I was reminded that we are adopted by, love, and serve the God who not only cares for and about the broken, but identifies with them.

No Place

Jesus came to this world as God made Man in the body of a baby boy, born in a stable outside a hotel in Bethlehem, about six miles (as the crow flies) from Jerusalem, after Mary and Joseph’s multi-day journey from Nazareth.

The Bible says, in Luke 2.7, “And she gave birth to her firstborn son” - that’s Jesus - “and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths and laid Him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn”.

In movies like Christmas Vacation, Christmas always seems to end up happy. Similarly, but I think even more so, this event has been really, really romanticized. If you think about it, there’s a lot of pain and sadness in this passage, alongside all the joy.

There’s not a whole lot in the text about Joseph and Mary’s interactions with the innkeeper. But every time I’ve heard or read this story, I’ve sort of thought of the innkeeper as gracious, doing as best as he or she could, and at least gave the young family shelter when there wasn’t any room for them otherwise.

Maybe there’s probably some truth to that.

But it never occurred to me that perhaps there was “no place for them in the inn” because no one made a place for them. No one looked at a very pregnant woman, likely in labor, who had just traveled several days, and offered her a bed.

I must recognize that this is a very “western” way of looking at the whole situation. I don’t know how this plays out seven thousand miles away and two thousand years later, or how this could have gone in a culture so different from ours. It’s tempting to turn this entire passage into a description of a mother mistreated, rather than the King coming.

For what it’s worth, I don’t think that’s the main point of the text. Packer argues that the text is not primarily concerned with morals, but what actually happened: the Son of God became human in Bethlehem, just as was prophesied.

Happiness and Sorrow

But I can’t read of such callousness toward the broken and needy and not be moved.

And it blows my mind that while I was needy, and calloused against God in His pursuit of me, the Son of God took the form of a human and ran towards the hurt, rather than away from it. That's what we celebrate at Christmas time.

Christmas is a reminder that God identifies with the broken, because He Himself has experienced brokenness, yet without sin.

That means that though we are broken, we have been healed in Christ. We can, and should enjoy and celebrate the coming of the Christ either way, while remembering the sad things we experience and looking forward to a day that there will be no tears.

So, just like sadness and joy coexist at the manger - and at the Cross - it’s okay to be happy and sad at the same time.

Honestly, I don’t really know how that looks practically.

But I think it starts with acknowledging pain and celebrating goodness where they’re found, rather than blindly forging ahead, intent on having a “perfect” Christmas. Jesus acknowledged the broken, identified with them in His coming, died and rose that His perfection might be ours.