I always find God in the holidays.

That might appear self-evident, but it’s not. In the middle of the cooking, cleaning, gift buying, child entertaining marathon, God can easily get stuffed on the back burner.

This year I forgot the brisket. We always have brisket and I just didn’t buy it. Instead we had the chicken I did buy. My husband bought enough donuts to feed an army and my kids decided that they didn’t like donuts anymore. I gave the extra fancy donuts to the neighbor.

Every year, every season there are the things that happen. There the ones the make that year memorable. I still remember the year my mother failed to defrost the turkey. We might have eaten chicken then too.

We give our children very few presents. Enough for them to feel like they weren’t cheated when their friends are getting but not enough to make them think it’s the reason we celebrate. (We give extra big gifts at other times during the year to ‘make up.’)

I don’t think that it’s the commercialism that puts us at risk of losing God during the holiday rush. It’s the sheer busyness. When our lives are full of noise and movement, it’s hard to hear the still small voice.

So in the midst of craziness, I look for God in the space in between. Standing on line in the grocery store, feeling the buzz in the air. Watching the kids rush home from school, carrying handmade decorations. In my own home when everyone is crying and the only way to peel those potatoes and make it through bed time is to throw my hands up and ask for mercy.

The mercy always comes. Because God is with us in our happiness. Taking delight in our joy. Smoothing out the edges of our struggles. And laughing with us when all our children drop to the floor and inexplicably pretend to be cats.

May it be a season of light and triumph for all us.

Photo from : https://www.flickr.com/photos/joaomoura/2311239344

It’s like when I met my husband. It was wonderful, a whirlwind, full of frantic joy, and slight trepidation. When the big moment came and he looked me in the eyes and asked if I’d marry him, I was totally ready to smile in mock surprise and accept. (Because, honestly, it was a done deal well before he came out and asked.)

Then I planned a wedding. And was consumed with dresses, halls, photographers, bands and all the other things that seems desperately important but mean nothing. I was blissfully happy.

Then we were married, and bought a house, and had a baby, then we had another baby, and still more babies. Sometimes I was happy, sometimes I was sad, mostly I was living.

Then my kids pulled out my wedding photos and I remembered how happy I’d been in my big white dress with the bouquet that wasn’t the one I’d ordered.

I wasn’t just happy, I was grateful.

Before life got busy with other blessings, I was grateful to have that one. And I stopped in the middle of my messy living room with torn photo albums strewn around, to take a moment to be grateful.

Unless you hold onto that moment, the moment of gratitude, it’s easy to hurry off to chase the next rainbow. You have to train yourself to stop and feel the blessing. Thank God for His bounty. Remember the look in his eyes when he popped the question. Smell the roses that didn’t come with ferns. Hear your children’s laughter as they spot people they know in the pictures, even as you gather up the torn pages.

Yesterday, the long awaited third book, Camp in the Shadow, in my YA fantasy series came out. Long awaited by me, and by my fans who, in a wondrous blessing, are more than just my mother. Real people who’ve never met me, wrote to me asking where book 3 was.

Finally it’s right here on sale on Amazon.

And I’m taking a moment to be grateful, before I go back to writing book 4 and chasing the next rainbow.

People ask me how God is so real to me. It’s because sometimes He’s all I’ve got.

You see, the darkness chases me.

Sometimes I skip ahead of it, like jumping out of the path of waves on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The sand is in my toes, not a cloud in the sky and my warm skin is cooled by a gentle breeze. Then the waves bring the picture into focus. And I can be fooled into thinking that the tide of darkness is my friend.

But the tide waits for no man.

When it starts to rise, I pull on my jacket, wrap myself up to compensate for the loss of warmth. And I keep going, hoping all the time that the water will recede and the light will come back.

Usually it works. I keep moving, working, caring for my babies. Go to bed early at night. Take long walks to boost my serotonin levels. I have a safety net. I do yoga, play my favorite music, practice piano and put that diet on hold. I don’t look at the darkness. I’ll do anything to pretend it isn’t there. If I don’t give it validation then it’s not part of my life. I tell God my troubles and hope that none of them cause the waters to rise.

Sometimes it’s touch and go. I feel the water lapping at my feet. I try to jump out, to run faster, just to keep moving, to see if I can outrun the flood that is coming. Sometimes it works and I walk back into the sunshine breathing a sigh of relief.

And sometimes nothing is enough. The tsunami covers me. Then there’s no more running, no more hoping, no more beaches. Just me alone in my kitchen with a life that doesn’t always belong to me.

Then I pull up a chair, sit myself down and say “Oh God, is this what you want me to do?” And yes, in these moments it’s as much a curse as it is a plea to my Lord and maker. I slip on my baggy grey cardigan, then I put myself into bed and I pray for the Ark.

Because under the water there’s only me and Him.

Because I know as surely as He sends the darkness, He’ll send me a way out.

Even if He has to split the sea.

And every time I go under, I get to know Him a little better. So that even when the sun is shining, we’re walking hand in hand.

Photo from : https://www.flickr.com/photos/ben124/6761361801/in/photolist-fFnxUt-bitKit-bUYFGQ-fJjWPN-nQNxRs-bmS8UQ-dFwTJ2-dFwjk8-dFwjrr-9x3web-9x3wqW-oKPhe-9x35ph-9x3z3G-dXqDhj-bUYFSW-CcKhW-dsc3qQ-pdLHLT-k8xxtk-dNtz1a-b8WayB-h4TK5K-dCbVmu-qvxJy-bD8ZRn-JGavA-pADWwk-2J3UNg-7yppnw-7hbLic-p6aBCs-dThPhz-4pYJ3T-csoMDh-4q3NSE-6pStu1-2fjPs-nmX5M6-26VURy-5pKsJn-d94ADU-k9fM9x-4sY7vD-3Y9Y4A-2Qvwap-hhQ84f-4iUJya-6xCcRi-2QzX9Y

God is running the world. We have a tendency to remember when someone’s ill, when we buy a lottery ticket and when we’re hoping that cute guy in the gym will notice us. But what’s He doing when He’s not managing life and death, dispensing serious cash and running the course of true love?

He’s still running the world. It’s a 24/7 sort of job.

God’s a bit like the ER ward, there’s no such thing as a quiet day. And like the ER ward, we tend to forget He’s there until we need Him. Then we arrive at God’s door step dripping blood and demanding immediate service. And like the ER ward He gives it to us. Sometimes it’s all Band-Aids, extra kisses and a plaster cast for our friends to sign. But sometimes God has to pump our stomach. Then we complain bitterly and forget that we only got that treatment because we stupid enough to give ourselves alcohol poisoning.

The real goal is to get ourselves onto the staff at the heavenly ER. This is worth it for multiple reasons. God is awesome and well worth hanging around. And like a member of the ER staff, when you’re on the God team you’re part of something that matters, you become part of the solution.

The less altruistic part of being on the staff, is that then you get the fast track to heavenly assistance. Getting on the team is easy, all you have to do is remember who’s running the show and send all your problems over to the Boss.

Case in point: I’d been trying to get ahold of someone for weeks. I tried all the regular email, messaging, phoning type options and nothing was working. All I got was bland responses to try again later. This morning, I woke up and took a good hard look at the situation.

I said to God: “Listen You’re running the world. I need to see this chick. Can You just hook me up?”

So instead of going to work in my usual location, I went half an hour in the other direction and went to knock on this chick’s door. On the way over, I whipped out the Psalms to make quite sure I knew who was running the show. I wasn’t relying on the power of the internet, or peer pressure, or even common curtesy. I knew I was going to get my stuff taken care of because the Master of the World had my back.

I got to the door. Read the little plaque twice to make sure I was in the right place.

“It’ s only You,” I reminded myself in case I’d forgotten in the two minutes it had taken me to walk down the street.

I knocked.

No one answered.

I tried knocking again.

Still no one answered.

I tried peeking through the window. It was suspiciously dark inside. This was someone who should have been happily at work in the morning.

I looked up at heaven. “I know that You are running the world,” I said to God. “So if she’s not in there, when this is where she should be at 10am, then I accept that it’s by Your Grace and today is not the day this problem is getting sorted.”

I headed out of the building and went to find a coffee shop to get some work done.

A large soya latte later, the words were flowing nicely, so the morning wasn’t wasted. I was just finishing off the scene, when I glanced up at the line of people waiting to buy coffee.

And there she was!

The very chick who had the power to resolve my ongoing issue. She looked at me. I was staring like a preteen who just spotted Justin Bieber. I saw recognition dawn in her eyes.

She walked over to my table, and smiled. We confirmed that we both were who we thought we were. Then she sat down. And talked to me for half an hour, until my issue was solved.

I was ready to do a victory dance right then and there.

You could call it coincidence but I know better. Because when you remember who is the Boss then you put yourself on the team. And once you’re on the team, miracles happen.