A few years ago I was invited to go on an overseas mission trip. This journey was to a country on the other side of the world with a foreign culture and language, and would take almost 24 hours to get there. No doubt many of you readers have done the same, and know the planning, anticipation and excitement of such a trip. Still, it’s not unusual to have a little nagging insecurity regarding the unknowns, and that was how I was feeling. I would be traveling alone on a long leg of the trip, navigating an unfamiliar airport with a tight connection and felt a little uneasy about it. I shared my concern with one of my prayer partners who quietly said, “Gratitude is the key that unlocks an anxious heart. When you start to worry or fear, thank God for His provision and care.”

The word ‘advent’ comes from ‘ad’ meaning ‘to’ and from ‘vent,’ a form of a Latin word meaning ‘coming.’ Advent is the season when Christians look back on the first advent, or coming, of Messiah, and we look forward to the second advent—his return. New Year’s Day in the church year, which follows the life and ministry of our Lord, begins this year on December 1—the day many Christians count as the first day of Advent. During the four weeks leading up to Christmas, a lot of churches observe Advent as a season of expectant waiting and the preparation of our hearts.

What you are about to read is a true depiction of the absurd events that transpired on my flight. These reflections do not highlight my best self. This was the reality of being pushed to the brink at 31,000 feet.

There is a line in one of my favorite praise songs that says, “Though darkness fills the night, It cannot hide the light; Whom shall I fear?” Darkness is one of those things that can cause fear. Think of a time when you were in a really dark place. With not even a glimmer of light. Was it in a cave? Or on a dark street? How do you feel in total darkness? Afraid. Lonely. You look for light from any source, don’t you? You see that light, and you follow it to get out of the darkness. 

That’s what God does for us—He calls us out of darkness into His wonderful light. And, He uses us as light-bearers to declare His faithfulness and lead other people to Him. 

As Thanksgiving approaches, many of us are gearing up for our favorite running day of the year. Even non-runners love the annual Turkey Trot where young and old alike jog in anticipation of the great feast ahead. Then you can eat all the turkey dinner you want AND have a second helping of dessert guilt-free. Okay, maybe that last part is just my tradition.

Unfortunately, I can’t run this year due to a back injury. Doctor’s orders.

The evangelical space of the internet erupted last month when prominent pastor and theologian John MacArthur mocked author and speaker Beth Moore, telling an audience full of male pastors she should “go home” rather than use her gifts in the church. MacArthur later clarified his views on women in ministry in an hour-long sermon, stating “empowering women makes weak men,” and women serving in leadership positions are a “disgrace” and exude “flagrant disobedience.”

When friends are frozen by fear and anxiety, I often suggest they recite Psalm 56:3 over and over: “When I am afraid, I will trust in You.”

But what does it mean to trust God? What does it look like in real life? How do we understand how to trust Him?

Canadians recently celebrated Thanksgiving, while Americans will be celebrating it later this month. Does your country have a specific day for giving thanks?

I stood shivering at the tram station in the heart of my new city, snowflakes falling faster and faster. If I missed the last tram for the night, I would face a ten mile walk home in a blizzard. The street signs read a language I didn't yet recognize, let alone comprehend. The sun had set, disorienting me to landmarks that might offer a small idea of where I stood. The empty cobblestone streets echoed silence. I sank onto the frozen bench and pulled my scarf to cover my face. I was utterly alone in a foreign city, with no map, no language skills, and no friends. An inaudible prayer escaped my lips, “Help.” 

With little effort we each can likely recall similar moments of isolation and difficulty when we lift tear stained faces and cry, “Help.”  Maybe a financial crisis, a broken marriage, a wayward child, an aging parent, a horrendous job, or unwavering depression. The feeling that help isn’t coming anytime soon can overwhelm us. The temptation to focus on our surroundings and circumstances invades our minds.