Guest post by Rebecca VanDeMark

Yesterday, I walked out of my bedroom, carrying my IV that I was doing an infusion with, to grab some more water to take some additional meds. I was exhausted walking the short distance; I sighed as I filled up my cup at the sink. Looking out the window, I glanced across the street at our neighbors’ house and noticed activity in the front yard. Less than a minute later, it became obvious that in the snow, my neighbors were trying to construct a ramp from their driveway to their stairs. As I stood there watching, it started to rain and I watched these three people struggle to construct a huge ramp.

Guest post by Rebecca VanDeMark

The beautiful Christmas Carol, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in 1863, came after a series of personal tragedies occurred in his life. First, in the early 1860s, an unusual heat wave had struck Massachusetts, which affected Longfellow’s family. This prompted Fanny, his wife, to trim the hair of their 7-year-old daughter to help her feel cooler. Sentimentally, Fanny decided to seal the locks of hair with wax, but tragically, hot wax spilled onto her dress and caught on fire. Henry unsuccessfully tried to extinguish the fire with a blanket, and then tried stopping the fire by throwing himself on his wife, which resulted in his face, arms, and hands being burned. Heartbreakingly, Fanny Longfellow died the following morning from her injuries and was buried 3 days later on their 18th wedding anniversary. Due to his own severe burns, Henry wasn’t able to attend her funeral, but later was recorded as saying a line from his famous hymn, The wrong shall fail, the right prevail.

Guest post by Rebecca VanDeMark

Ever since I was a little girl, I have been intrigued by shepherds, specifically the shepherds the Bible mentioned in the Christmas story. Historically shepherds were referred to as the forgotten people and were seen as especially lowly in society. Thousands of years later, I am humbled to admit how many times I feel like I am part of the forgotten people. Despite social media, technology, and the ability to instantly connect with others, I think we all struggle with feeling forgotten in different ways. The holiday season can compound these feelings of loneliness in a hundred little ways. I know personally how hard and painful it can be to experience joy in this season when we feel like we have been forgotten.

Guest post by Rebecca VanDeMark

If there is one thing that we all know from the hard seasons of life, it is that the season of waiting seems to go on indefinitely with no exact end date assured. Waiting for test results to come back. Waiting for answers. Waiting for broken relationships to be restored. Waiting for unemployment to end. Waiting for a place that we can call home. Waiting for a husband. Waiting for a child. Waiting for an adventure to begin. Waiting for the life we long for to begin. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Guest post by Rebecca VanDeMark

Waiting is the hardest anguish, isn't it? The emotions felt while waiting on the Lord to answer prayers that you have prayed months and years and sometimes decades to come to fruition are hard to adequately express in words.  Waiting is the difficult anguish of acknowledging that my deepest longing and desire is unfulfilled at present, while wrestling with the bewilderment of unanswered prayer with the God I desperately love.