Anne Peterson

Healing words for wounded souls.

Love

Snow has blanketed the ground. Sparkly, white snow. See it glimmering? It really is beautiful. Snow causes me to reflect on earlier time. I remember as a child dressing to go outdoors. Making a snowman, throwing snow balls. We would wear rubber galoshes over our shoes making sure we took them off as soon as we hit the front door. We didn’t have snow pants which meant our times outdoors were shortened. Trudging in we hoped to be greeted by a cup of hot cocoa, complete with bobbing marshmallows.

When our winter vacation concluded, we’d carefully walk to school through the icy alley carefully watching each step. Falling was a good teacher. 

When my husband was stationed in Germany, I remember sledding while we had a break at a Winter Bible conference in Switzerland. There I was with my 5 year old son, Nathan ready to have the time of our lives. At the bottom of the hill was Mike, ready to take the memorable picture. While we sailed down I realized we were headed straight for a barbed wire fence. I knew I needed to do something to stop us or my son would be hurt. Inexperienced as a sledder I used the only thing I had available, my hand.

Extending it from the sleigh I succeeded at stopping the sled and we toppled off. Unfortunately there was a price to pay; a broken little finger.

It’s funny what you will do for your children. Was I sorry I did it? Never. That was my son, I didn’t want him hurt.

God loves us so much more than we could ever love our children. He sacrificed his only son because of that love. My finite mind has a problem understanding that. That God would actually give up his son for some who would choose not to believe. But God so loved the world. Amazing. If I were the only person on earth, he still would have died for me. 

Love gives, even when it hurts.

This Christmas I’m thinking about God’s gift and how much it cost. I have thought a lot about that quiet night when Mary gave birth to Jesus. How God lit the sky with that brilliant light proclaiming to the world, “He’s here!”

Surrounded by barnyard animals God entered our world as a tiny, helpless baby. A baby who would grow up to give his life for the likes of you and me.

That’s the best present we’ll ever have. Wrapped on Christmas in swaddling clothes. 

Merry Christmas.

About Anne Peterson

I write words you can feel, sometimes they rhyme. If I'm not writing, I'm telling stories from my head, to little ones who call me grandma.

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