One hot, humid day in Florida, as I returned from a long walk tired and thirsty, I swung open the front patio gate and discovered that I had a "guard snake" protecting the entrance to my front door. Being a fairly new winter resident, I wasn't well acquainted with the various species of snake dwelling in and around our region. I suspected that it was probably harmless, but I wanted it to find another door to guard.

To encourage its departure or scare it away, I began to hiss and lunge at it. It immediately coiled its two-to-three-foot body, raised its head, and hissed back at me in return.

Next, I reached for some garden mulch to throw at it. It slithered forward in attack mode. I searched for something bigger and heavier with which to scare it and make it go away.

I tossed sticks, stones, and even a brick at it. Each time I "raised the stakes", it escalated its response to the threat.

Finally, I tried walking away, but kept the gate open wide so that I could see where it went. It remained in place. Stalemate!

I remembered that the screen door to the lanai at the back of our condo wasn't locked, so I was able to sit in the shade, even if I couldn't enter my home.

As I sat there cooling off, literally and figuratively, I thought of Paul's words of instruction and challenge in today's passage, to "live in harmony with one another" and "so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all."

That led me to think on how often careless words and hostile threats disrupt the harmony in our relationships with one another. How often, instead of retreating to "let the dust settle", we insist on our own way. How often we respond to a perceived threat or insult with aggression that only serves to heighten tensions.

As I looked at the situation from the snake's point of view, I saw that I had left it no room to manoeuvre, no place to hide.

With new insight, I returned to the front of the condo and discovered the path to my front door free and clear of any obstacle. All that the snake wanted was to enjoy a little warmth and sunshine and to be left in peace. All that I had to do was to give it room to breathe and a safe retreat from danger.

Point to ponder: What might I do, as far as it depends on me, to live peaceably with all my neighbours and with those whose points of view may differ from mine?

Prayer: Loving God, help us to be slow to anger and aggression and quick to dismantle barriers of fear and suspicion, that we may live in harmony with one another. In Christ's name, we pray. Amen.

For my first Christmas as a new grandma, I received a very special present from my grown daughter, the sister of the baby's father. It was a collection of books containing her favourite childhood bedtime stories for me to share with her little nephew.

I could hardly wait for the day when Willy would be a little older so I could read him bedtime stories wrapped in the arms of love. But as time passed, there was a problem with my dream becoming a reality. Willy was a busy boy. He was never still until sleep finally claimed him. Year after year, I tried to read him a story. Year after year, I put the book back on the shelf — unread.

Then, one Saturday night, when he was all ready for bed, Willy spoke the words that I had longed to hear. "Read me a story, Grandma." It was music to my ears!

"I'd love to." I replied. "You crawl under the covers while I go downstairs to get a book."

"No, Grandma. Read this one!" he said emphatically, as he reached up to the bookshelf beside his bed and pulled out a Bible. Not one of the child's Bibles with colourful pictures, but a plain old blue Bible with lots of words and no pictures. He insisted and would accept no substitutions.

So, I whispered a little prayer and opened the book at the beginning, and told him the story of how God made the world and everything in it, in words a child of three could understand.

It was one of those magical moments, cuddling together as night fell, sharing the goodness of God with this precious little boy.

Although it wasn't the story time that I had dreamed of long before, it probably was the story time that God dreamed of … with stories of faith being passed from one generation to another. For one reason or another, it isn't always easy to share our faith, even within our extended family circle.

In today's Scripture, Paul is writing his words of farewell to Timothy, his child in the faith. Like Paul, many of us may realize that we are closer to the end of our life than its beginning. By faith, we know that our heavenly homecoming is assured, but sometimes, we need a little reminder that our work is not yet done. We have stories to tell, life experiences to share, and children and grandchildren to nurture in faith and love.

This Advent, as we look forward to the coming of Christ, may we also look for new ways of telling the old, old story … of how Love came down to dwell among us … wrapped in a blanket, laid in a manger.

Prayer: Dear God, thank You for opening doors of opportunity for us to share our faith. May Your great grace and love show forth in all we do and say. Amen.

Jesus told His disciples that there would be wars and rumours of wars, and that nation would rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom. He spoke these words as they stood in awe of the magnificent buildings and stone structures of Jerusalem, especially the temple that seemed so vast and solid that it would stand forever. "Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down," Jesus said. (Mark 13:2b NRSV)

Less than 50 years after Jesus uttered these words, the temple lay in ruins, destroyed by the Roman invaders, and the prophecy of Jesus came true.

Since the coming of the Prince of Peace, Whose birth was heralded by an angelic chorus singing, "Peace on earth, goodwill to all people", there have been wars and rumours of wars. Impressive buildings, from cathedrals to skyscrapers, have toppled to the ground. Bombs have levelled city blocks and entire cities. Precious lives have been lost or scarred forever.

During the first great world war, once called "the war to end all wars", trench warfare and mustard gas poisoning were added to the list of horrors endured by those sent forth to battle. It was followed by a peace that lasted about twenty years.

On Remembrance Day or Veterans' Day, we will remember, with gratitude, those who went to war for peace, seeking to halt the spread of evil and contain aggressors. Yet, we also remember, with sadness and regret, our own failure to live in the peace that God intended.

My mother once told me her story of what happened in Muirkirk, a little town in Scotland, in 1918, the year "the war to end all wars" ended. My mother and her four-year-old twin sister were having a tea party on the old gravestones that dotted the churchyard. Her father was the church beadle — the caretaker — the one who held the keys to the church and graveyard and carried in the Scriptures before worship.

As the little girls drank their pretend tea, my mom heard a commotion in the street. When she turned around, she saw Mr. Henderson, the minister, running through the town shouting, "I need the keys! I need the keys! Open the church! The bells have got to ring! The war is over. The bells have got to ring!" Mr. Henderson had just received the news by telegram at the local post office.

As the bells rang, a plane flew overhead dropping white discs that floated from the heavens like tiny snowflakes. On each disc there was a message: "Peace". It was 11 a.m. on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918.

The story that my mother told me about the end of "the war to end all wars" points to the truth about the peace that begins all peace: peace is God's gift to us, and it falls gently from the heavens.

Lasting peace comes from God through the ministry of the Prince of Peace, Who breaks down the dividing wall of hostility that separates us from God and from one another. He gives us the grace to love our enemies, to do good to those who hate us and to pray for those who wrong us. He enables us to become peacemakers.

What then is our task as peacemakers? Each day, peacemakers choose to love and serve God as heavenly Father, treating all people as brothers and sisters.

Let us choose to be peacemakers, for blessed are the peacemakers and blessed is the world that we are making as we choose to love and serve God by loving and serving others.

Prayer: Loving God, help us always to seek the way of peace, to work for the good of others, and to pray for those who govern the nations of the world, that all Your people may dwell in unity and harmony. Amen.

Once, I watched a drama unfold on the diving tower of an indoor swimming pool. A group of children were on the high tower taking turns trying to outdo one another. You name it, they tried it! These young buddies were performing for each other, challenging one another to greater feats of courage and daring. They also performed for the audience that was out of sight behind the glass partition of the observation deck. That's where I sat, with the other invisible witnesses in this waiting area.

One boy decided to try a back flip off the high tower, but he had a bad landing and hurt his back when he hit the water. He was sidelined for a bit while he caught his breath and assessed the damage. Then, with a fleeting glance towards the gallery of onlookers, he declared with certainty, "I'll live!" And he got back into the game.

We generally know when we're being watched. An audience inspires us to try a little harder, heal a little quicker, and overcome setbacks with a little more grace.

I couldn't believe my eyes when the littlest hero began to climb the ladder and walk to the end of the board. He shouted across the pool for his big brother to watch, and with a wave in the direction of his mom sitting beside me, he jumped, looking like a tiny exclamation mark hanging high above the water. But his older brother didn't hear him, and his mother had turned aside to answer a stranger's question. Who watched him?

Who watches us as we do deeds of daring and acts of kindness for others?

I got to thinking about the invisible cloud of witnesses that the writer of Hebrews tells about. As sure as there were anonymous and invisible witnesses watching the action being played out on the diving board, cheering this little guy on, there are witnesses — unseen — watching us as we run our race and play our part in the divine drama of our lives. According to the writer of Hebrews, we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses: the audience of the faithful departed, who assure us that endurance is possible.

Today's text urges all of us to run our races with perseverance, remembering that each of our races is not a quick dash to the finish line, but rather a marathon calling for strength and endurance.

But sometimes our struggle is disheartening. There are times when we think that no one is watching and that no one seems to care how well we are doing.

That is when we most need to remember that we are never alone, for those witnesses are not just spectators — they are our personal cheering section eagerly awaiting the finish of our race, ready to snap that picture of our Kodak Moment™ when we cross the finish line.

We are to achieve victory by looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Although He has taken His seat at the right hand of God, His Spirit is with us, gifting us with our "second wind". Thanks be to God, Who gives us the victory through Jesus Christ. Amen.

Prayer: Eternal God, we thank You for the faithful departed, who inspire us and assure us that endurance is possible. Remind us that others, especially our children and grandchildren, will look to our lives of faith and be encouraged and inspired as we run our race, looking to Jesus as the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Amen.

One day as I was puttering around my study at home, I came upon a little cardboard box that had been tossed into a box of books carted from my mother's apartment when she needed nursing home care. Inside the box tied with string, there was an old, old book with an embroidered cover. Eventually, the little box landed on my bookshelves, where it sat for a long, long time.

Every once in a while, I would take the book out of its box and look at it. But then, one day, I really looked at it. It was a miniature Bible dated 1628, and by the looks of it, it actually appeared as though it was printed in 1628.

After taking it to a rare book dealer, it became apparent that the age of the book was likely authentic. Apparently, there were about 450 of them printed in 1628. But today, there are only four known and catalogued in the world.

Whenever I happen to mention this in conversation, the first reaction that I hear is, "I bet it's worth a lot of money." That may be true. But its value to me is in its content.

The title page says (with its actual spelling and phrasing), "The New Testament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, newly translated out of the original Greek and with the former translations diligently compared, and revised, by his Majesties special command."

That makes it priceless! — to have God's Word in a language that I can read and understand.

I often wonder how many lives have been touched by the reading of these words of Scripture, and how it came to be in my possession, handed down through the generations for almost 400 years.

I also wonder how many lives have been left without comfort in times of sadness … without peace in times of turmoil … without hope in times of devastation … without direction in times of confusion … all because God's Word has been hidden from view, lying unread, gathering dust in some dark corner.

This little book of Scriptures isn't the first one that I have left on the shelf. The Bible that I received at my confirmation sat untouched for years, although I did try to read it when I was a skeptical, questioning teenager — reasoning that I couldn't reject something that I had never studied. So, I began to read at the beginning, in Genesis, but got bogged down in Leviticus.

Then, life got too busy to continue the quest for truth, until I discovered the truth in the old adage, "A Bible that is falling apart is usually owned by someone who isn't." After that, my confirmation Bible got such a workout that it is now falling apart.

The Bible is history … poetry … prophecy … wisdom … instruction. It is hope and comfort and encouragement. But the Bible is more than all that. It is God's written Word that points to God's living Word, Jesus Christ our Lord. It's all written in a language that we can understand under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, Who helps us to know and do God's will.

God's Word in the world can accomplish more than we could ever dream or imagine, if we take the Word of God off the shelf and let it take us out into the world to be good news to all.

Question for reflection: How would you describe your Bible? Like new? Gently used? Falling apart?

Prayer: Loving God, we thank You for Your words of grace and truth to us found in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments. Grant that we may cherish Your Word and make room for it in our lives. Amen.

We used to celebrate my mom's birthday at our cottage, when she was able to travel. The first time she came for a visit, I wanted to show her the beauty of our secluded lot on a small, wilderness lake.

I took her on a winding path through the forest to "Coffee Rock" overlooking the eastern portion of the lake where we often savoured our morning coffee. The trail was uneven, with rocks and tree roots lying hidden beneath the ground cover.

As her feet shuffled along, I suddenly realized that she was becoming frail. I held her hand to keep her from falling. It dawned on me that once upon a time, she had held my hand to guide my first faltering steps, just as I had held my daughter's hand as she learned to walk.

In another flash of understanding, I realized that one day, my daughter would lead my aging body by the hand as well. It seemed like three lifetimes passed before me in that one brief forest happening on the way to Coffee Rock.

Just as a child learns to grasp an adult's loving hand for safety, guidance, comfort, warmth, and companionship, when the roles are reversed, the benefits remain. Even if our memory fails us and our steps falter, we are somehow programmed to trust a loving hand.

Once, I had wondered how my mother would cope with a loss of independence when the time came for her to rely on others to look after her. The answer was evident in a well-worn, wooden plaque that hung above her bed and followed her from home to nursing home. It was her declaration of faith from the prophet Isaiah: "See! I will not forget you … I have carved you on the palm of my hand. Isaiah 49:15".

She knew that she was in the hands of a loving heavenly Father from her first breath until her last.

She gave me an example to follow as she put her hands in the hands of the One Whose love will never let us go. If I happen to forget the lessons that she taught me as her life drew to a close, I'll have my daughter hang that plaque in a prominent place near my bed to remind me when my time comes.

In what ways has God reminded you that your life is lived in the hands of a loving heavenly Father?

Prayer: Loving God, in Your wisdom, You have given us a time for every matter under heaven. You have given us times of work and times of play, times of holding on and times of letting go, times of strength and times of weakness, times to care for others and times to let others care for us. In all the seasons of life, may we know that all of our times are in Your hands. Amen.

When I think back on my childhood, I remember playing all kinds of games with neighbourhood children, like baseball, British Bulldog, and Red Rover. Many of the games began with choosing sides.

I can still remember the agony of waiting to be chosen for a team. I wasn't the tallest or the strongest or the fastest candidate. In fact, I was more of a clumsy runt of a little girl. I wasn't the most popular or most attractive prospect for either side wanting to put together a winning team. So often, I was left on the sidelines until the very end of the selection process.

I know what it is like to feel like an outsider and wanting desperately to be chosen.

Perhaps that's why I treasure today's verses from Ephesians that remind us that God chose us before the foundation of the world. Not only were we chosen for love, but we were also chosen for redemption.

This word "redemption" is a term that we don't often hear these days, unless it pops up in a new movie or a hit tune. The original term comes from slave market days, when slaves were bought and sold. If a person bought a slave, and then set the slave free, that person would be considered "redeemed".

The good news for those of us who are in Christ is that we have been redeemed. The price of our freedom has already been paid. From whatever enslaves us, from whatever keeps us from joyous and abundant living, we have been redeemed. The power of destructive habits and the power of sin have been broken. We now belong to God and come under God's loving protection.

Unfortunately, sometimes things get in the way of our hearing and believing this truth. Feelings of unworthiness and feelings of inadequacy sometimes have a way of creeping up on us as echoes from our past.

Thank God, we do not have to wait on the sidelines of life to know that we are of infinite worth to God. In Christ, each and every one of us is a beloved child of God, chosen for love and redemption from the beginning of time. We are God's first-round draft picks!

And that is good news indeed.

Prayer: Loving God, thank You for the encouragement of Your Word and for choosing us to be Your very own. Help us to see the worth in each and every one of Your children, each and every day. Amen.