​The holiday air is electric! Family dinners are frequent. Seasonal desserts are everywhere. The fragrance of Thanksgiving and Christmas is in the air. Naturally, we want to consume as much as we can. The light displays, the music, and cuddles during movies, the aroma of turkey, and the taste of grandma’s fudge—we recall precious memories through all of our senses during this season.
 
By the time we have ventured through this wonderful time of year, we do not feel so wonderful. We have eaten too much and gained a few pounds; spent more than we should, and feeling the effects. However, one of the biggest side effects of the holidays is pure exhaustion as they come to an end. Having stayed up late too many nights making sure that every moment is used to its fullest with every corner picture perfect. I have accepted every invitation to join friends and family to celebrate. I have seen seventeen parades and twenty-two light displays, built six gingerbread houses and decorated a hundred dozen sugar cookies…or so it seems. As I sit on the couch, instead of seeing the remnants an incredible few months with my husband and boys, I just see an endless list of chores to return our lives to normal. Decorations that I couldn’t wait to display now cause anxious thoughts of how to pack it all away! I am ready for this time to be over! Somehow, I don’t think this is what God had in mind for this time of year. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have thoroughly enjoyed the time, but have I savored the moments? 

​While pondering all of this, God pricks my heart reminding me of times in my life I have experienced the same affects of a season. There have been seasons in our ministry when we felt alone. We felt as if no one saw us. We were invisibly spinning our wheels and no one knew the struggle. Then, there have been times of incredible favor. In those times, I received many opportunities to serve in new and exciting ways. Because I knew all too well the feeling of being invisible, I wanted to seize absolutely every opportunity given, walk through every open door, and give all I had just in case this season didn’t last. Instead of feeling fulfilled in these moments, I am overwhelmed with exhaustion once again. It is as if I have experienced yet another holiday meal, over-filled my plate, consumed too much, and now I am so full that I can’t breathe. All of the things consumed were good things but moderation would have allowed me to savor each item a little more.
 
If I can be completely honest, I am currently experiencing a season of an over-piled plate. God has given me opportunities to minister in areas that have truly captured my heart. I revel in these ministry moments. They are not just titles, but have become who I am, and I run to these experiences with great expectation. In addition, God opened some new doors and prompted my heart to walk through them. I am out of my element and unsure of my abilities in these new areas, but they are exciting as I anticipate all that God will do in them. Then, I look at my plate and I don’t know where to begin. I have added new things to try, but kept all of my old favorites. I know the outcome if I try to consume all of this. The problem is: I know I should take the new opportunities, but my heart isn’t ready to release the old ministry areas. They have my heart, my investment.
 
Psalm 104:19 NLT: You made the moon to mark the seasons, and the sun knows when to set.
 
I have a feeling I am not alone in this journey as I see many trying to balance an over-filled plate. We carry heavy loads sometimes because no one else is there to take some of it from us. God is teaching me something I want to share with those who are also deciding where to start: It’s okay to let go. I want to put an exclamation after that statement, but my heart needs a whispered: It’s okay to let go. If God asks you to move, He already has a plan for the hole you leave.
 
I want to savor each item more. I want to revel in the moments as I watch God do miracles in the lives of those I get to serve. In order to do that, I have to let go. God is moving, signifying we should as well. A new year is beginning; let’s take that step of faith together.

​"Your hair is so pretty," remarked Kaylah, our waitress.  

The place was packed, and a line of patrons waited, yet this lovely girl with a long chestnut ponytail took a moment to engage with us. "I hope my hair is like yours when I get older." 

My husband, wanting to get a reaction, pointed to the "snow" on his head and teased, "We both dye our hair this color." 

"Really?" she asked sincerely. 

She glanced at me.  

Seeing my knowing smile and shaking head, she bent over the table. With a sparkle in her eyes, she looked squarely at Don and, as if confronting a child, she asked,  "Did you just tell me a lie?" Leaning closer, she warned, "You have to be good for Santa because you can't repent and get forgiveness from him." Straightening up, Kaylah walked around the table, adding, "We are good for Jesus because we love him. We are good for Santa because we want something." 

We all laughed and agreed she had a good point. But, I was particularly impressed by the boldness and ease with which this young woman, only four years old in the Lord, took—no, made—an opportunity to witness for Christ.  

I have been in ministry for over forty years, making a decision early on to find open doors for sharing Jesus. It has happened quite naturally at times during conversation. But mostly, I have found it challenging to find an effective way to introduce Jesus without feeling in-your-face obnoxious. It comes easily in church, Bible study, or pastoral counseling, when someone is asking for direction, or with friends. But to approach the man or woman on the street, well, I would just as soon leave that to the evangelists and those "called" to that ministry. Not that I haven't tried. I have gone door-to-door when training how to reach the lost, and also during church Thursday night outreaches. No one was ever rude to me. But I have felt uncomfortable. Why, I wonder?  

When I commended Kaylah for her boldness, she replied, "Well, if we are ashamed to talk about Him, we are not His.” 

The Apostle Paul was motivated by a very real and godly love for people. His whole ministry could be summed up in this: he could not bear the thought that anyone would miss eternity with God. Paul was not thinking of himself. He was willing to suffer beatings, imprisonment, torture, humiliation, misunderstanding, ridicule, and to die so that others might enter in. His is a picture of Christ and his heart and sacrifice for the sake of mankind. Is it not written, "Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13 KJV) 

Could it be that I am fear driven because I am more concerned about me than I am others? What people will think? What they will do? God reminds us that He "has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7 NKJV) 

Lord, I pray you will deliver me from the torment of fear, and perhaps indifference, as I focus upon You this Christmas. You are the author and finisher of my faith. Help me see others through Your eyes. Let my heart beat with Your desires, and may it feel the weight of a soul that may not enter eternity with You unless I do speak. Give me such a passion for the lost, that I would pay any price to give the gift of eternal life.