Anna Billingsley

“Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.” Colossians 3:16

I’ve been a churchgoer all my life. As soon as I could hold my head up, my parents deposited me in the nursery and took a seat in the sanctuary. Once I started growing and rejoicing, I learned about baby Moses in Sunday school, sang about the “Little Drummer Boy” in Christmas pageants, and had my heart strangely warmed at youth group retreats.

None of those experiences could have prepared me at age 66 for the phenomena of “nones.” Shockingly, three-in-10 adult Americans today identify as religious “nones,” described as atheists, agnostics, or “nothing in particular” when it comes to religion. The Pew Research Center projects that by 2070, nones will make up half the U.S. population.

How can that be? Where else can you – all in one setting, usually in about one hour – be surrounded by people who care about you, hear an inspiring message, and immerse yourself in soul-stirring music?

Granted, a global pandemic took a toll on public gatherings and singing en masse. But this non-churchgoing trend began long before COVID-!9 came on the scene. Secular society has diminished the importance of Sabbath rest and religious activity. Church is no longer a priority in the U.S.

What a shame! I remember the childhood hand activity: Here’s the church, here’s the steeple; open the door and look at all the people. The church is not a building, it’s the folks who show up.

I recall seeing a church member who had recently lost her husband kneeling at the altar rail after taking Communion. Another member of the congregation who was kneeling beside her subtly moved closer and put an arm around the widow.

There couldn’t be a more poignant demonstration of the power of churchgoing. It’s about showing love – toward Christ, toward each other, and toward the community.

As we learn in Hebrews, meeting together and encouraging one another – churchgoing – is how we “spur one another on toward love and good deeds.”

I, for one, will continue the habit of hearing the message of Christ and singing to God with gratitude. NONE of that would be possible without church.

“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?” Matthew 6:28b-30

Consider the hibiscus.

I do precisely that, every day, from May until October. That’s the time period I am exposed to an explosion of bright blossoms from my beloved plants. Our garden has both the annual and perennial varieties of this shrub that thrives in tropical climates.

No, I don’t live in Hawaii or Malaysia – both of which feature the hibiscus as the official flower; just suburban Virginia. And it is HOT in the summer, so my hibiscus plants experience ideal growing conditions from early summer until the first frost.

I was originally introduced to these uniquely beautiful flowers by my late mother, who nurtured and appreciated hibiscus plants at our home in South Carolina. She even entered some of her prized platter-sized blossoms in the county fair.

Though they germinate in sunny conditions all over the world and come in countless colors and varieties, most hibiscus share one trait: the flowers last for only one day.

It is with bittersweet poignancy that I carry on the family tradition of growing and enjoying hibiscus. Like the blossoms, my vibrant mom died after too short a time. With many plans and much life ahead of her, she succumbed to colon cancer in her 50s.

Both the hibiscus flower and my mom symbolize beauty, success, glory, hospitality, and femininity.

Unlike the only-one-day-to-live hibiscus blossom, none of us knows how long we will be on this earth. I, for one, would like to take some cues from the short-lived flower (and my mom): Bloom where you are planted. Keep the faith. Be bright. Be beautiful. Never give up. Bring joy to others.

Consider the hibiscus, how it blooms. Even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God has created the hibiscus blossom which today is, and tomorrow is thrown in the refuse pile, will He not much more do for you? To Him be the glory!

“Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” Proverbs 19:21

I planned to walk 2,023 miles in 2023.

For three months, I kept pace by walking at least five and a half miles a day. By the end of March, I had accrued 513.4 miles. I was well on my way.

But God had other plans.

My doctor, who had been evaluating my persistent balance issues and relentless headaches, ordered an MRI of my brain. The next morning, I went on a 5.5-mile walk. When I arrived home, my doctor called. She told me I had a 4.7-centimeter mass in my head, and I needed to get to an ER immediately.

While in my local emergency room, a very kind on-call neurosurgeon explained that what I had was likely a meningioma. Its size was alarming (thus, the directive to head right away to a medical facility); but I learned there was a 99.9 percent chance the mass was benign and the cause was unknown. I was told to schedule surgery as soon as possible.

Before knowing what was wrong, I had continued walking – sometimes haltingly. Once I was aware of what was wrong, daily walks were no longer on my agenda. Not only was I physically unable to keep up that kind of exercise, but my days were filled with neuro consults, lab work, and additional tests.

My walking goal and plans for the immediate future were derailed; God’s purpose for my life prevailed. On May 17, I underwent a craniotomy, and the meningioma was successfully removed.

Yes – it was terrifying to have my skull cut open and stapled back together. And, the physical therapy I have undergone post-surgery has been grueling. But throughout it all, I have been walking with God; He has been with me every step of the way.

My mileage goal is no longer important; what I’m striving for now is fulfillment of God’s purpose. With the Lord as my constant companion, I have been at peace throughout this whole experience.

The meningioma may have messed up my mileage, but I have gained something far greater: A renewed focus on God’s prevailing presence in my life.

As I know from Jeremiah 29:11, God has His own goal for me – and it’s way more significant than 2,023 miles. He has plans to chart a path for me — no matter the length — toward a bright and hopeful future, one with eternal dividends.

“To you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, bless those who curse you.” Luke 6:27

I was heading home through my city’s small downtown when the driver in front of me signaled a desire to parallel park. I put on my brakes, allowing plenty of room for that driver to maneuver. All of a sudden, my ears were assaulted by the horn of the car behind me.

I thought to myself: What have I done wrong? Granted, I may have hesitated a few seconds after the car ahead of me was successfully parked, but it was not so long that I deserved such horn-blowing. Once traffic was moving, the honker pulled up right beside me, stared at me with a very unfavorable expression, and gave me a thumbs down (could have been worse!).

I was stunned! Didn’t that driver know that I was a nice, law-abiding Christian?!

I had to halt that train of thought. This incident was not about me. She, too, may have been a nice, law-abiding Christian. And maybe her dog had died or her boyfriend had dumped her. Whatever the case, she must have been having a bad day.

We never know what others are going through. Displays of anger or vengeance are usually tied to something more deep-seated. There’s likely some kind of pain, hurt, or inner conflict lurking beneath the surface.

I had to remind myself that everyone I encounter is struggling with something. As the angry driver accelerated past me, I found myself praying. According to Matthew 5:44, pray for your persecutors. That’s not easy, but praying softens the heart, and allows compassion and empathy to enter. 

Hard to show compassion (or extend a Sweet Monday invitation) through a car window at a busy intersection, but I could have and should have responded to her with a big smile and a thumbs-up!

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7

I want to be at peace.

I’m always worried about something. I haven’t been to visit my friend who is in the nursing home. What if I get COVID? I need to take a casserole to our neighbor whose Dad just died. I have obligations in many of the nonprofits I am part of. Oh, and what about that thing I committed to at church? Should I go on the mission trip to Guatemala this summer? What if my daughter doesn’t find a new job in a timely fashion? I need to raise funds for the benefit next month. What will I fix for supper? And on and on and on.

And all of that is personal. What about the discord in our country? Will the debt ceiling be increased? Will I lose my Social Security benefits? Did I retire too early? What about Medicare? Will our hospital reach an agreement with my insurance company? And I can’t bear another mass shooting.

Peace.

It seems so elusive. Yet, Jesus told me not to worry. In fact, John 14:27 promises peace from the Prince of Peace: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”

The world offers plenty of solutions to anxiety: Valium, alcohol, binge eating, meditation or psychotherapy.

But here’s what God offers: Himself.

God designed us to reach our full potential, to be powerful beyond measure, to have success and joy and abundance in our lives. No – he never said life would be a bed of roses. All He said is that He would help us deal with the thorns.

As daughters of Christ, we’ve been given an incredible gift: God’s peace. This means we don’t have to let fear trouble our hearts, we don’t have to let the unknown paralyze us. God is right there beside us; He’s seen it all before and He knows exactly what He’s doing.

Let’s trust God – He’s not worried about the debt ceiling, discord, donations, daughters or disaster. And when we turn to Him in prayer rather than grab a glass of wine or dose of Xanax, He will provide a peacewhich surpasses all understanding and which will guard our hearts and minds.

I want that kind of peace!

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.“ Galatians 3:28

We just returned from Aruba. While the trip was wonderful, and we accomplished our primary goal of seeing flamingos up close and personal, I was struck by something else: Borders are insignificant.

We were amazed by the kinship we felt toward Arubians and folks from all over, really. The World Cup soccer competition was going on, and there was tremendous fervor regardless of where we were from or which team we supported. In fact, as we were standing among a throng watching a finals match on a big-screen outdoor TV, a Dutchman gave us an American flag!

This reminded me of Christmas Day 2014. The strains of “O Come Let Us Adore Him” reverberated as we sat down in folding chairs with about 40 other worshippers in a hotel meeting room. As I observed a variety of skin colors and heard numerous accents, I thought to myself: What brings all these people to a vacation destination on what is arguably the most sacred day of the year for Christians?

For our family of four, it was our desire for an escape from the trappings and traditions of Christmas. During the previous months, we had lost two trunks of our family tree – my dad and my father-in-law. Plus, one of my closest friends had lost her hard-fought battle against breast cancer.

Were others there trying to escape? I don’t know. But of this I am sure: On that December 25^th, families from all walks of life and nationalities were united and joy prevailed as we all engaged in a shared experience – celebration of our Savior’s birth.

The same realization came upon me as we stood shoulder to shoulder with men and women of all ages and cultures to cheer on young men kicking a ball.

Shared experiences help us transcend political and ethnic barriers. Who knew that by traveling to an island and eschewing cultural traditions I would draw closer to the meaning of community – and Christmas?

God knew.

O come let us adore Him!