"Is there a Richard Adam Reilly in the car?"

With those words, the Customs and Border Protection Officer cast a pall over the car. Under sunny skies which promised pleasant driving, my wife and I had journeyed with my eldest son and our beautiful daughter-in-law. We were to spend four days of driving leisurely through Michigan, Illinois, Minnesota, and North Dakota, USA, as we made our way back to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, from Ontario, Canada. However, all that was now hanging in the balance barely two hours into the trek, at Port Huron, Michigan, USA.

After we had spent forty-five minutes in line after crossing the Blue Water Bridge, the officer had taken our passports and asked all the usual questions: "Where are you going?" "How long will you be?" "Do you have anything to declare?" Then, the unsmiling agent commented, "Uh-oh. We have a troublemaker." My first thought was that my son's passport was out of date, but it was not that. "This passport is not valid," she coolly commented. "It hasn't been signed." Well, that didn't seem too bad, or was it?

The officer continued, "Here's what you need to do. To make this passport valid, it needs to be signed in Canada. You're going to have to turn around, cross back into Canada, and sign the passport there. Then you can return over the bridge and get back in line."

The car was silent as we mulled over this unexpected and unwanted detour. I could feel the rising tension as we began to formulate ways to make Adam's life miserable. It was then that the officer leaned in and said, "Just kidding!" with a friendly smirk. "Please sign the passport, Adam, and enjoy your trip."

As I've reflected on our stops at the border this summer, it dawned on me that God never has to ask those "border" questions. He knows where we've been, what we've been doing — even where we are going and what we are going to do.

Psalm 139:2-4 – You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. (NIV)

I am known. And not just the "me" everyone sees, but the real me: the "me" who is smiling on the outside, but hurting inside; the "me" who appears courageous even when terrified within — like when killing a spider — yech! In every situation in which we find ourselves embroiled, there is a God Who knows us and our circumstances even better than we know ourselves, and He cares by entering into our lives, promising, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." (Isaiah 43:2a NIV)

Even more, when we cross from this life to the next, our way has been secured by that very same God, through His Son Jesus Christ, Whose signature is our guarantee. No worries of delays or detours need trouble us, as He will meet us at the border and welcome us home.

Prayer: Father, Your love really is too lofty for us to understand, so we simply open our hearts to receive it. May our lips and our lives always declare it. Thank You, Jesus, for Your blood shed on the cross, and for the promise and assurance of new life. Help us to live each day in such a way that our journey will be so filled with Your presence that we might reflect Your light into the world around us. Amen.

When our sons were much younger, they would enjoy the trips that we took that led us past the Lester B. Pearson International Airport in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. One runway in particular runs parallel with the highway, and if we were fortunate, we would pass by just as an aircraft was either landing or taking off. For two lucky boys, they would have a minivan window seat that provided a brief, unobstructed view of a jumbo jet lumbering off the earth, or one slowly descending with a small puff of smoke as the wheels grabbed hold of the waiting pavement. Of course, they took great pleasure in narrating the event to their brothers, who feigned disinterest.

On one occasion, we happened to drive by just as a DC-10, "one of the planes daddy built", touched down in Toronto. Michael was entranced by the whole process, and so, we entered into a discussion about how big the plane was, how much it weighed, how many people it carried, and where it may have been arriving from. During a brief pause, I happened to ask Michael, "Would you rather land a jet during the day or at night?"

He thought for a brief moment (that in itself was a monumental moment), before answering, "At night."

Surprised at his answer and the confidence in his tone, I asked, "Why at night?"

"Because," he swiftly replied, "at night, you would have the runway lights to guide you."

It seemed like such a simple answer, but as I pondered his reply, I began to see his wisdom. During the day, a pilot would have much to distract him and conceal the "narrow way" that is a runway. Below, there would be roads, railway lines, rivers, and highways, while above, the brilliant blue sky and billowing clouds. However, at night, though the way be dark, there would be a light piercing the shadowy veil and illuminating the narrow road that led to safety.

Likewise, in our lives, there is much that we allow to distract us. The world is filled with shiny things and alternate paths that promise to satisfy and make us complete. There is many a broad road that leads to destruction, yet, at first appearance, seems inviting and safe. It can become hard to keep our eyes fixed on home — fixed on Jesus. Perhaps that is why God permits those times of darkness to come upon us. For in those times, His light can be more clearly seen. In those moments, we learn to walk by faith, trusting in His Word to light our path.

Psalm 119:105 – Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path. (NIV)

Isaiah 42:16 – I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them. (NIV)

Prayer: Lord, help us not to be lured by those things around us that seek to undo us. Help us and guide us by the light of Your Son Who gives light to all people. Grant that we may have the privilege of being that city on a hill that lights the way for others. Amen.

I was manning a booth at the Western Fair in London, Ontario, Canada, one August, when a man I'll call Hans appeared from out of the crowd and very quickly engaged me in his story. During the Second World War, Hans, at barely seventeen, had been conscripted into the German Army. In his first engagement, he was mercifully captured without firing a shot. After a short stay in France, he and other teen soldiers were moved to England, to a prisoner of war camp not far from a small English town, Oswaldtwistle in Lancashire.

There, to pass the time, a favourite activity was playing football (soccer). Thinking to lay a thrashing on the young Germans, the guards challenged them to a match, which ended in a lopsided victory for the Wehrmacht. Soccer provided Hans with another unique opportunity. One of the guards arranged for Hans, a talented footballer, to join the local English squad. All he had to do was make sure that he never spoke to the opposition, or cried out for the ball, either of which would reveal that he wasn't a proper Englishman.

After the end of the war, the guards, wanting to spend Christmas 1946 with their families, left the unrepatriated German lads on their own, and made them promise not to attempt to escape. Left alone, the young men, feeling lonely and somewhat homesick, decided to attend a Christmas Eve service. Walking into town, they nervously entered a Methodist chapel and slipped as quietly as possible into the back pews. Their entry, however, did not escape the notice of the elderly pastor, Mr. Howe.

The service continued without incident until the pastor announced, "We have some guests with us this evening." All eyes turned to the young men, who thought that they were about to be tossed out, but instead, something remarkable happened. Mr. Howe asked them if they would stand and sing Stille Nacht in their native tongue. With a little apprehension the reluctant German choir began, only to be joined by the parishioners. I'm sure all of heaven paused that night as German and English voices mingled together, and there, for a short while, in a small English church in the dark shadow of World War II, the words of the angels rang true: "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." After the service not one young man failed to receive an invitation to spend Christmas in an adoptive home. It was a Christmas that Hans said he will never forget, and for me, it was how I enjoyed Christmas in August.

While you may not have the opportunity to share Christmas with a young Hans, there are likely those whom God has led to you. What could be more in the spirit of Christmas than to open your home to share the gift of hospitality?

Prayer: Lord, as we celebrate Christmas this year, may we do so remembering that You came to offer peace on earth. May we, as far as we are able, seek to be peacemakers always. Amen.