“My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2:1-2)
Sin is a universal dilemma. As Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Yet, God’s grace is greater than our sin. However, Martin Luther cautioned, “To be convinced in our hearts that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing.”
Lent is a time of deep self-reflection, a season to acknowledge our shortcomings and seek forgiveness and renewal through Christ. If we are honest, we all have a sin problem. Sin isn’t just about breaking rules—it’s about breaking a relationship, distancing ourselves from the God who loves us. The Apostle John encourages believers to strive for holiness, but he also reassures us that when we fail, we have an advocate—Jesus Christ.
Jesus is both our defense and our atoning sacrifice. He doesn’t just plead our case; He paid the price for our sin with his own life. His righteousness covers our guilt, and his grace gives us a new beginning. But this grace is not an excuse to remain in sin. John reminds us that if we truly know Jesus, we will aim to follow Jesus—guided by his teaching, emulating his example, and loving others as he loved us.
As we deal with the daily allure of sin, Jerry Bridges encourages us to remember, “Our worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.”
Lent challenges us to confront our sin honestly, not with despair, but with hope. Jesus has already solved our sin problem on the cross. Our response is to walk in his ways, abide in his love, and reflect his character to the world.
Reflection: Where do you find the strength to deal with temptation? How regularly do you confess your sins to God? How can you apply God’s grace to your own shortcomings? What are some ways you can share the good news of God’s forgiveness with others?
Prayer: Gracious Lord, I confess my sins before You. Thank You for sending Jesus as my advocate and for the grace that covers my failures. Help me to walk in Your ways, to obey Your commands, and to live in a way that reflects Your love. Strengthen me to turn from sin and draw closer to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
“Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.” -Psalm 28:6-7 (NIV)
What do you do when you feel susceptible and weak?
As we journey through Lent, a season of reflection and repentance, we encounter moments when we feel overwhelmed by vulnerability and insecurity. We are reminded of our need for God’s mercy and strength to sustain us. In Psalm 28, David cries out to God for help, and in verses 6-7, his cry turns to praise as he declares, “The Lord is my strength and my shield.”
Philip Yancey notes, “A God wise enough to create me and the world I live in is wise enough to watch out for me.”
During Lent, we are encouraged to confront our human frailty and dependence on God. It is a time to recognize the sin and brokenness in our lives and to seek God’s mercy. Like David, we can cry out to the Lord, trusting that God hears us. When we feel weak, overwhelmed, or vulnerable, we can take heart in knowing that God is not only the source of our strength but also our shield—protecting us in ways we cannot always see.
This season, may we embrace the truth of Psalm 28:7, allowing it to shape our prayers, our thoughts, and our actions. Let us trust in God’s strength and protection, knowing that even in our struggles, we are secure in His hands. And let our gratitude overflow in praise, as we prepare our hearts for the hope and renewal that Easter brings.
Recently while channel surfing, I came across an old episode of the popular sci-fi TV show, Star Trek. In the brief moment as I was watching, as the Starship Enterprise was about to be attacked by the Romulans, I heard Captain Kirk command, “Mr. Sulu, shield’s up!” This was a trademark command for the lieutenant commander to raise the shields, thus cloaking the ship with an invisible protective hull to defend against the attack from the enemy.
In moments when we deal with extraordinary challenges, when we experience elevated anxiety, when we confront adversarial forces, or when we are physically tired or emotionally spent, we should say to ourselves, “Shield’s up!” as we remind ourselves of the Lord’s strength and protection in all circumstances.
Reflection: How can you trust in God’s strength and shield during this season of Lent? What causes you to feel vulnerable? In what areas of your life are you seeking to grow in grace and mercy? Rest in the truth that God hears you and will help you.
Prayer: Lord, in this season of Lent, help me to trust you more deeply. When I feel weak, remind me that you provide sufficient energy for the challenges of life. When I feel vulnerable, remind me that you are my shield in all seasons. Amen.
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who served as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches.)
(This was first published as part of Living Lent, a devotional book published by Morningstar Child and Family Services.)
The first time I heard this oft-told story, it was shared by Wayne Grubbs, then pastor at Lakeview Baptist Church in Oxford, Alabama. The story goes something like this:
Near the end of a sermon about heaven, the pastor asked the congregation, “How many of you want to go to heaven?” Every hand in the church shot up—except for one little boy on the front row. Curious, the pastor turned to him and asked, “Son, don’t you want to go to heaven?” The boy quickly responded, “Yes sir! When I die. But I thought you were gettin’ up a trip right now.”
A few of us may feel like we’re getting ready for that final journey sooner rather than later, but most of us live under the illusion that the finish line is far in the distance. Although none of us knows when our journey will be complete, we are inspired by Paul’s words, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith (II Timothy 4:7).
Regardless of our age or stage in life, the truth remains: we must be ready to cross that line—by maximizing our time here and finishing well.
What Do You Need to Do Before You Finish the Race?
I recently celebrated my 65th birthday. During the two weeks following, I had the sacred privilege of delivering the eulogy for 3 dear friends who had crossed the finish line just a few days apart. The strange juxtaposition of these two events—a birthday and a series of funerals—prompted deep reflection:
“What does God want to accomplish in and through my life before I cross the finish line?”
Thomas Jefferson wisely advised, “Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today.” Yet, so often, we let good intentions replace real action. If you knew your time was short, what would you make a priority? What do you need to do before you finish your race?
1. Go where you need to go. Visit the friend or family member you keep meaning to see. Take that family vacation. Sign up for that mission trip. Step out of your comfort zone and embrace a new experience.
2. Do what needs to be done. Get to know your neighbors and build community. Volunteer for that service project you’ve been considering. Share your faith intentionally and non-judgmentally.
3. Say what needs to be said. Tell your family how much you love them. Plant that tree that will bear fruit and offer shade after you are gone. Pass down the stories that hold your legacy. Offer forgiveness where wounds remain unhealed.
4. Give what needs to be given. Honor God with your financial resources, supporting your local church and kingdom work. Pass along that cherished heirloom to the next generation. Invest in a cause that will continue making a difference long after you’re gone.
5. Plan what needs to be planned. Get your affairs in order: wills, life insurance, power of attorney, and advanced directives. Communicate your memorial wishes with loved ones. Leave behind not just memories, but a roadmap for those who will carry on.
Live Today with Finish Line in Mind
James 4:14 reminds us that “life is a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” In the grand scheme of eternity, our days are fleeting and unpredictable. The best way to prepare for the end is to live each day with intention—treasuring relationships, embracing opportunities, and deepening our faith.
For me, that means not only trusting Jesus as my Savior but also following Jesus daily in my attitudes and actions—serving, growing, and faithfully running the race set before me.
Mother Teresa reminded us, “At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done. We will be judged by ‘I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless, and you took me in.’”
I sure hope to celebrate several more birthdays, but I also know that one day, sooner or later, someone will stand and share a eulogy for me. Since I don’t know when that day will come, I want to make every moment count.
Like Irma Bombeck avowed, “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me.’”
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches.)
Our minds are never truly silent. At any given moment, we are engaged in an internal dialogue—a constant stream of thoughts, reflections, and self-talk. Not all the voices are friendly. Some voices push us forward with encouragement, while others hold us back with doubt and fear.
Individuals of all ages must learn to navigate the voices within. No one is exempt. Left unchecked, some of these voices can be troubling, taunting, or in some cases traumatizing. Learning to sort through these voices is essential for emotional, mental, and spiritual well-being.
The voices in our internal dialogue can be tenacious and argumentative. How do we know which ones to listen to? Erwin McManus asked, “Who do we become when we stop allowing all the voices in our head to crowd out the one voice we must hear to come to life?”
We all have competing voices in our minds—some shaped by past experiences, some influenced by culture, and others rooted in our deepest anxieties and insecurities. You may hear the voice of self-doubt that whispers, “You’re not good enough.” Some hear the voice of fear that warns, “What if everything goes wrong?” There’s the voice of condemnation that says, “You are not worthy.” Others hear the voice of pride that insists, “You don’t need help.” And then there’s the voice of God, the still, small voice that speaks truth, peace, and direction.
As you discern between the multiple voices in your head, be aware that the loudest is seldom the most trustworthy, the harshest is seldom the most truthful, and the most accusative is seldom the most accurate. It is best to give attention to the still small voice. And though you cannot evict the competing voices, you can turn down the volume.
So how do we amplify the right voice—the one that speaks truth, grace, and wisdom?
Reject the voices of condemnation and accusation. God convicts, but God does not condemn. If a voice is drowning you in shame, it’s not from the Holy One. (Romans 8:1)
Filter your thoughts through the teaching of scripture. The Bible is the north star for discerning truth. If a thought contradicts God’s teaching, it doesn’t deserve a microphone in your mind. (Philippians 4:8)
Spend time in stillness. The world is noisy, but God often speaks in whispers. Make time for quiet reflection and prayer. (1 Kings 19:11-12)
Surround yourself with honest friends. Wise counsel from trusted friends and mentors can help clarify which voices to trust. (Proverbs 11:14)
Speak life-giving words to yourself Words have power, even when spoken internally. Be intentional about reminding yourself of God’s grace and love. (Proverbs 18:21)
Get regular rest. Shelly Miller reminds us, “Rest provides fine-tuning for hearing God’s messages amidst the static of life.” (Psalm 127:2)
Put what you already know into practice. If we want to learn more from God, we must be faithful in what God has already taught us. When we walk in obedience, our spiritual ears become sharper. (Luke 16:10)
Your internal dialogue shapes your perspective, your emotions, and ultimately, your life. Choose which voices you allow to take center stage. When self-doubt, fear, and intimidation threaten to overwhelm you, lean into the voice that speaks life, love, and purpose.
As you navigate the voices in your head, be positive and proactive, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” (II Timothy 1:7)
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches.)
Last Sunday in church, the choir sang a beautiful rendition of one of my all-time favorite hymns, “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” arranged by Dan Forrest. The choir isn’t huge, but their sound is excellent and inspiring.
As I adjust to a more relaxed Sunday schedule following my recent retirement, my wife and I enjoy visiting our friends at the First Baptist Church in Gadsden for worship on the Sundays when we are not traveling. Nathan Edwards serves as Minister of Music and does a great job leading in worship and directing the choir.
As the choir began the anthem, I was reminded never to underestimate the power of a song, especially a song presented in multi-part harmony by a devoted and spirit-infused church choir. On the very first stanza, I noticed to my right a senior adult widow, who sits on the same row with the same friend each Sunday, as she mouthed the words “There is no shadow of turning with thee; Thou changest not, thy compassions they fail not, As thou hast been thou forever will be,” and there seemed to be a tear forming in her eye as though she was being reassured that the God of this universe was not intimidated by the problems in her life.
Just beyond her in the center section I saw a senior couple I assumed were husband and wife. He may have been nearly 90 years old and still had a farmer’s tan. She appeared to be a year or so younger than him yet weathered by the seasons of life. They were both nodding as though in agreement as the choir sang, “Summer and winter and noontime and harvest, Sun moon and stars in their courses above, Join with all nature in manifold witness To thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.”
A couple of rows ahead of us was a dad seated beside his middle school son. Other than standing for the hymns and bowing his head for the prayers, the student had been completely still the entire service, somewhat tuned out, looking as though he was there because he had to be and not because he wanted to be. But during this choral anthem, I noticed that he began lightly tapping his foot and patting his knee, never taking his eyes off the choir as he kept perfect time with the beat of the song. I wonder if somehow the words of this powerful hymn were being planted in his subconscious and would one day sprout like a seed that would help him to become rooted and grounded in his faith.
Prior to the service I had noted a young adult as she was seated a few rows ahead of us in our section on the piano side. She sat alone and looked around as if she was in a new environment which made me think she might be a visitor, so I was glad to see several regulars greet her and sit near her. I don’t know her story but I was glad she was there. She sang the words to the congregational hymns without looking at the hymnal which indicated to me that this wasn’t her first church experience. As the choir sang, I caught her whispering along, “Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Blessings all mine with ten thousand beside.”
These I’ve mentioned are only a few examples of the lips moving, heads nodding, and spirits being lifted across the congregation as the choir in the loft blended their voices melodiously. For some reason, more than listening to the robed choir, today I found myself looking and listening for the unseen choir. The choir in the loft was infusing the congregation with a song, thereby creating an antiphonal effect with the unseen choir silently singing, nodding, and toe-tapping the anthem in reflexive spiritual response.
Rich Mullins wrote a song popularized by Amy Grant titled “Sing Your Praise to the Lord.” The song was inspired by verse like Psalm 95:1 which says, “Oh come, let us sing to the Lord; Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!” It is certainly appropriate and biblical to sing to the Lord.
However, Ephesians 5:19 also encourages us to “Speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.” There is something about congregational singing that creates a spiritual bond among people of faith as they sing to one another. Moreso there is something about a church choir singing with a disposition of worship that applies a balm to a wounded heart, that transmits energy to a weary soul, that conveys hope to those steeped in despair, and that plants seeds of faith in fertile minds.
The purpose of a choir is not to impress but to inspire. A church choir is not a show choir to entertain the congregation but rather a “flow” choir who, by immersing themselves in the spirit and message of worship, overflows onto the congregation with God-vibes and good news and contagious song.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer contended, “It is the voice of the Church that is heard in singing together. It is not you that sings, it is the Church singing, and you, as a member of the Church, may share in its song.”
Following the anthem, Pastor Mat Alexander’s well-prepared, well-delivered sermon from Matthew 12:1-21 encouraged us to “Love God, pursue righteousness, and find rest in the Lord.”
After the benediction, as we walked to our car, as the cart driver passed us as he transported a few folks to their cars I heard him humming the tune to “Great Is Thy Faithfulness.”
I wonder if Irving Berlin had the unseen choir in mind when he composed, “The song has ended, but the melody lingers on.”
Yes, it does! I’ve been humming that tune all week long.
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches.)
Yesterday, I watched news footage from the Fat Tuesday celebrations in New Orleans—a day when many indulge in gluttonous feasting and revelry. Today is Ash Wednesday, marking the beginning of the season of Lent, a time of intentional preparation for Easter. During this sacred season, believers focus on self-examination, reflection, and repentance.
Traditionally, Christians choose to give up something significant to them during Lent. I have friends who forego their favorite indulgences—chocolate, coffee, sugar, or soft drinks—as a form of spiritual discipline. But since I seem to have a genetic predisposition to worry, I think I’ll try giving that up instead—for at least 40 days.
The Burden of Worry
I don’t actually like to worry. In fact, I know it’s not constructive. Worry is like spam or junk mail—it clutters my mind, taking up valuable space needed for creative thinking, planning, visioning, and problem-solving. I function far better when I’m not weighed down by excessive worry.
And yet, worry is persistent. Each time I try to kick it out the front door of my mind, it sneaks around and slips back in through the back.
Years ago, a friend of mine had a giant poster mounted above his desk that read:
“Don’t tell me worry doesn’t help. Half the things I worry about never happen.”
Erma Bombeck humorously captured the futility of worry when she said, “Worry is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere.”
An Inherited Habit?
I sometimes wonder if worry can be inherited. I watched the wear and tear of worry in my parents and grandparents and have noticed that many of their offspring—including me—struggle with this same mental distraction.
And I’m not alone. Over coffee, I’ve listened to CEOs, ministers, business owners, attorneys, physicians, and educators share their struggles with worry. It’s no surprise—there’s always something to be anxious about:
Our businesses
Our families
Our investments
Terrorism
The economy
Political turmoil
Wars and rumors of wars
Friends losing their jobs
Health concerns
The future…
The list seems endless.
A Better Way
Perhaps I’m not the only one who should give up worry for Lent. Since this is a season of intentional preparation for Easter, maybe we should all listen again to the words of Jesus:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” — Matthew 6:25-27
As we begin our Lenten journey, I’m trying to give up worry for at least 40 days. Maybe—hopefully—even longer.
Would you like to join me?
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and columnist for the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)
Each year, as winter begins to fade and the hope of spring draws near, the Christian calendar marks a sacred season: Lent. But what exactly is Lent? Lent is a 40-day season of reflection, repentance, and preparation leading up to Easter. It begins on Ash Wednesday and ends on Holy Saturday, the day before Easter Sunday. Traditionally observed by many Christian faith communities, Lent is a time for spiritual self-evaluation, often marked by prayer, fasting, and acts of charity.
What is the purpose of Lent? Pope Francis suggests, “Lent comes providentially to awaken us, to shake us from our lethargy.”
Lent is a deeply personal and spiritual journey. It is a time set apart to reflect, reevaluate, repent, refrain, and refocus.
Lent is a time to reflect. Life moves fast, and it’s easy to get caught up in the day-to-day without pausing to consider where we are spiritually. Lent provides a unique opportunity to slow down and reflect. It invites us to ask, How is my relationship with God? Where are my priorities? Is my lifestyle consistent with my faith? Through reflection, we gain clarity about our faith and recognize areas where we need growth.
Lent is a time to reevaluate. In the stillness of reflection, we are led to reevaluate our priorities. The world constantly pulls us in different directions, often distracting us from what truly matters. Lent challenges us to examine our choices, our commitments, and our daily habits. Are we devoting our time and energy to things that nourish our souls? Are we living in a way that aligns with God’s purpose for our lives? This season gives us the space to make adjustments and realign our lives with His purposes.
Lent is a time to repent. At the heart of Lent is repentance—a turning away from sin and a turning toward God. It is a time to be honest about our shortcomings, not with shame, but with a desire for transformation. Scripture reminds us, “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord” (Acts 3:19). Repentance is not about dwelling on our failures; it is about embracing God’s grace and asking God to renew our hearts.
Lent is a time to refrain. One of the most well-known Lenten practices is fasting—giving up something as a way of drawing closer to God. Whether it’s food, social media, entertainment, or another comfort, fasting teaches us discipline and dependence on God rather than earthly things. Refraining is not just about sacrifice; it’s about making space for something greater. When we let go of distractions, we create room for God’s presence to fill our lives in new ways. As we think about the things we might give up for Lent, Amanda Jobs reminds us, “It is not just about giving up our favorite food but it’s about going further and giving up things like hatred and unforgiveness.”
Lent is a time to refocus. Ultimately, Lent is about refocusing our hearts and minds on Christ. It is a season to strip away what is unnecessary and center our lives on what truly matters. As we journey through these 40 days, we prepare ourselves to embrace the joy and victory of the resurrection. By shifting our focus from the temporary to the eternal, we deepen our faith and draw closer to the one who teaches us how to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8).
The faithful observance of Lent can be both uncomfortable and hopeful. Kate Bowler cautions, “Lent is full of hard truths. And it is a perfect moment for spiritual honesty. We can look on this tragicomedy with love and bemusement as we wait for the someday that will be God’s promised future.”
Lent is not about obligation—it is an invitation. An invitation to reflect, to reevaluate, to repent, to refrain, and to refocus. It is a journey that leads us deeper into God’s love and prepares us for a more meaningful celebration of Christ’s resurrection.
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)
Have you ever just wanted to give up? Will Rogers quipped, “The road to success is dotted with many tempting parking spaces.”
A few years ago, after several consecutive days of conversations with friends and fellow church members who felt their world was unraveling, I sensed the weight of the many concerns entrusted to me. As is my pastoral practice, I withdrew to my study to pray, reflect, and seek wisdom for those navigating difficult seasons.
Many members of my community had suffered from the destruction of property due to storms, the loss of business due to an oil spill, the loss of family members due to a tragedy, or the loss of hope due to a toxic political divisiveness.
While I was honored to listen to their stories—privately and confidentially—I found myself wishing I could gather all of them in the same room and say, “You are not alone. Others in this room are also struggling. You can help each other through this.” And most of all, “In the toughest moments, do not give up. Press on!”
Since I could not bring such a group together, I recorded in my journal the words I wished I could say to them, weaving in real-life dilemmas shared with me (anonymously, of course). The following Sunday, I included those words at the end of my sermon and later shared them in our church newsletter.
Now, we find ourselves in another season where hardship weighs heavily on many, both in our community and around the world. Once again, I feel a deep, cumulative heaviness in my soul. As I lift these concerns in prayer, I realize that the struggles that send us into emotional or spiritual tailspins haven’t changed much. Life is still challenging. Storms still come. Divisiveness still threatens to undo us. Fear and anxiety continue to creep in.
But in every hardship and every circumstance, we are called to press on—with patience, perseverance, and faith.
The words I shared then are still as relevant today as they were years ago. May they encourage you in your journey:
Life is a fragile gift—often unfair, frequently unpredictable, and mostly uphill. The journey requires faith, courage, and determination. There will be moments when your commitment is tested and your motivation wavers.
When you are tempted to give up or give in—press on! When life throws you a curveball and the unexpected happens—press on! When you are weighed down by sadness or battling deep depression—press on! When frustration rises because of the incompetence of a neighbor or colleague—press on! When you stand at the foot of the mountain, facing the long climb of recovery—press on! When you begin a treatment regimen that weakens your body but must strengthen your health—press on! When exhaustion settles in, and you are tired of being tired—press on! When your friends are difficult to deal with, or your family is hard to live with—press on! When you move to a new town or start at a new school, feeling like a stranger—press on! When loneliness lingers, even in a crowd—press on! When the news is filled with gloom and doom—press on! When your workplace is dominated by chaos or conflict—press on! When you are tempted to settle for mediocrity or risk losing your integrity—press on! When death or disease takes away someone you love, in the power of the Spirit—press on! When life gets turned upside down, steady your nerve and stay the course—press on!
Circumstances can change quickly and none of us are exempt. The Apostle Paul reminds us in Philippians 3:14, “I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”
Maya Angelou counseled, “You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. Please remember that your difficulties do not define you. They simply strengthen your ability to overcome.”
LL Cool J advises, “When adversity strikes, that’s when you have to be the most calm, take a step back, stay strong, stay grounded and press on.”
Pressing on doesn’t mean ignoring the pain or pretending everything is fine. It means choosing to keep moving, even when the path is difficult. It means holding onto faith when answers seem distant, leaning on the strength of God when our own runs out, and trusting that even the hardest seasons can be navigated with wisdom and courage.
No matter what you face today, know this: You are not alone. The valley will not last forever.
So take a deep breath, lift your head, and press on!
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)
For those of us who grew up watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the Island of Misfit Toys has become a symbol of being different, overlooked, or left out. Although the toys were not broken, they were misunderstood and longing for a place where they belonged.
For many individuals, the holidays can feel like that island—a season where everyone else seems to have a place, a purpose, and people to share it with, while loneliness leaves us feeling adrift. In a recent Harvard study, 21 percent of adults indicated they have experienced serious feelings of loneliness.
If you’re feeling like life on the “island” is your reality this Christmas, take heart. Loneliness, though difficult, does not have the final word. Here are some ways to find meaning, connection, and even joy during the holidays, no matter your circumstances:
1. Own your uniqueness. On Rudolph’s journey, Charlie-in-the-Box insisted, “Being a misfit means that you are special. Embrace your uniqueness and celebrate who you are.” Loneliness can stem from feeling out of place or like you don’t measure up to others’ holiday experiences. But the beauty of Christmas is that God didn’t choose perfection to carry out his plan. God chose a humble manger, ordinary shepherds, and a small, overlooked town. Lean into who you are, and remember that you are uniquely and wonderfully made.
2. Come to terms with your feelings. It’s okay to admit that the holidays are hard. Whether you’re grieving a loss, facing a season of change, or simply feeling the ache of solitude, naming those emotions can be a powerful first step toward healing. Even Jesus experienced loneliness and sorrow. He knows your pain and he is near to you, offering comfort and peace.
3. Look for fellow “misfits.” The Misfit Toys didn’t stay isolated. They found each other. Seek out others who may also feel disconnected during this season. Attend a community event, reach out to a friend, or visit a local church. Many people long for connection but don’t know how to take the first step. Your initiative could be a gift not only to you but to someone else.
4. Find joy in serving. One of the most powerful antidotes to loneliness is serving others. Volunteer at a shelter, bake cookies for your neighbors, or send handwritten notes to people who might also be feeling alone. When we shift our focus outward, we often discover new connections and purpose in the process.
5. Lean into the Christmas story. At its core, Christmas is not about parties, gifts, or picture-perfect moments. The Christmas story is about God stepping into our messy, lonely world to be with us. The birth of Christ is a profound reminder that we are never truly alone. Emmanuel, “God with us,” means God is present in your quiet moments, your tears, your laughter, your challenges, and your joys.
6. Create your own traditions. If old traditions bring more pain than joy, don’t be afraid to start new ones. Hermey the Elf advises, “Follow your passion and dreams, even if they don’t fit into the mold. Be true to yourself and find joy in pursuing what you love.” Write a poem, start a jigsaw puzzle, try the new recipe, dance by the light of the tree, or take a peaceful walk under the stars. Simple, meaningful actions can help you reclaim the season.
7. Give yourself the gift of grace. It’s okay to feel lonely, and it’s normal to experience melancholy during the holidays. Don’t be too hard on yourself if your emotions feel a little chaotic. The first Christmas night wasn’t filled with jubilant celebration but with quiet humility. Let yourself rest in the peace of the season, know that your self-worth isn’t determined by how festive you feel.
The story of the Misfit Toys didn’t end with them being forgotten. Rudolph and his friends ensured they were found, loved, and given purpose. Christmas is a reminder that we are never truly left behind. God sees us, loves us, and has a purpose for us—even when at times we feel like misfits.
Dare to step outside your comfort zone this Christmas. As Yukon Cornelius wisely observes, “Adventure awaits those who are willing to take risks. Embrace the unknown and discover the wonders of the world.”
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Creek in northeast Alabama.)
Christmas is often a season of joy, but for many, it can also bring waves of grief as we remember loved ones who are no longer with us. Often their absence speaks more loudly at Christmas.
Perhaps you can identify with the person who said, “I see you in the lights on the tree and the ornaments we used to hang each year. I hear you in the carols we loved to listen to together. I miss you so much this year, but I feel you all around.”
If you are feeling a heavy sense of loss this Christmas season, lines from these 10 carols can remind you of God’s presence and promises even as you navigate your grief:
1. “The thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices.” (from O Holy Night) In moments of weariness and grief, these words remind us that hope can restore and renew our spirits. The birth of Christ is a beacon of renewal, bringing joy even to heavy hearts.
2. “Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask Thee to stay close by me forever, and love me, I pray.” (from Away in a Manger) A tender prayer for God’s nearness, this stanza offers reassurance that Jesus is with us, even in our deepest sorrow.
3. “Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.”(from Hark! The Herald Angels Sing) These words proclaim peace—not just in the world, but in our hearts. They remind us that God’s grace sustains us, offering comfort when grief feels overwhelming.
4. “O rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing.” (from It Came Upon the Midnight Clear) This carol reminds us to pause and find rest for our weary souls. In our grief, we can find comfort in the message of peace and hope proclaimed by the angels.
5. “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”(from O Little Town of Bethlehem) Grief often amplifies our anxiety about the future, but this lyric reminds us that Christ’s birth intersects with our hopes and our fears, offering peace and reassurance.
6. “Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: ‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep.'” (from I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day) Written during a time of personal sorrow, this carol especially speaks to those who feel abandoned in their grief. It reminds us that God is present and actively working for our good.
7. “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright.”(from Silent Night) The serene imagery of this carol invites us to embrace stillness, trusting in the calm and brightness that God’s presence brings, even in the midst of pain.
8. “Let every heart prepare Him room.” (from Joy to the World) Grief can leave an emptiness in our hearts, but this stanza invites us to make room for Christ, who fills us with peace, hope, and joy.
9. “Born to set Thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in Thee.” (from Come Thou Long Expected Jesus) This carol expresses a deep longing for freedom from life’s burdens and rest in Christ’s presence.
10. “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.” (from O Come, O Come, Emmanuel) This ancient carol speaks directly to those in sorrow, promising that God is with us. Emmanuel—God with us—is a powerful reminder that we are never alone.
Christmas carols are not just songs of celebration; they are also prayers, petitions, and promises of God’s love and presence. For those grieving, these words offer a unique blend of comfort and hope, pointing us to the truth that Christ came to bring peace and healing to a broken world.
Don’t hide during the holidays. Light the candles, prepare the meal, and sing the caorls. Alan Wolfelt suggests, “During your time of grief, the very rituals of the holidays can help you survive them.”
This Christmas, may the timeless words of these songs bring you comfort, reminding you that Christ’s light often shines brightest in the shadows.
(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Creek in northeast Alabama.)
