Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

"WHAT IN THE WORLD can I give to ______ this Christmas?" Sound familiar? Sure, it's probably the most frequently asked question every Yuletide season.

CHRISTMAS DAY NEVER arrived so slowly, but finally it dawned. While no one was looking, I had shaken the box enough to know that it had to contain what I had been wanting so badly—right size, right weight, everything.

THE CHRISTMAS STORY HAS been so sanitized and romanticized over the centuries that even Hollywood—as jaded a culture as can be found anywhere—fails to capture the gritty pathos that surrounded Jesus' arrival.

A FEW DECEMBERS AGO, I saw something that I won't soon forget. The bumper sticker on the back of the car in front of me caught my eye. It made me think. And it even aroused some guilt.

IN THIS SEASON OF EXTREME BUSYNESS, we Christians need to stay alert to any potential dangers. I'll mention only four of them . . . along with some strategies that will allow us to combat each risk.

EVERY YEAR, as Christmas draws nearer, I remember a story Paul Harvey told on one of his radio broadcasts. It's a tale that never grows old.

ALTHOUGH IT MAY BE a little ahead of schedule, it's not too early to give some things away this Christmas. Not just on Christmas Day, but during the days leading up to December 25.

The whole world was on fire with the flames of Rome's rampaging expansion. What could possibly have been more important than Caesar's decrees or Rome's massive building programs?

I'VE LIVED LONG ENOUGH TO know that sometimes Christmas hurts. And when words fail, tears flow.

There's this tree in my front yard that gives me fits several times a year. It leans. No, it never breaks or stops growing . . . it just leans. It's attractive, deep green, nicely shaped, and annually bears fragrant blossoms.

When words fail, tears flow. Tears have a language all their own, a tongue that needs no interpreter. In some mysterious way, our complex inner-communication system knows when to admit its verbal limitations . . . and the tears come.

Nine-year-old Danny came bursting out of Sunday school like a wild stallion. His eyes were darting in every direction as he tried to locate either his mom or dad. Finally, after a quick search, he grabbed his daddy by the leg.

A friend of mine ate dog food one evening. No, he wasn't at a fraternity initiation or a hobo party . . . he was actually at an elegant student reception in a physician's home near Miami.

Two hours away from our own front door we traveled completely around the world. We didn't miss a continent. From Paraguay to the Congo. From the Serengeti Plains of Tanzania into the tropical rain forests of Malagasy . . .

He was brilliant. Clearly a child prodigy . . . the pride of Salzburg . . . a performer par excellence. At age five he wrote an advanced concerto for the harpsichord. Before he turned ten he had composed and published several violin sonatas.

Do you know where you are going? The place? Dublin, Ireland. The time? Toward the end of the nineteenth century. The event? A series of blistering attacks on Christianity, especially the "alleged resurrection" of Jesus of Nazareth.

Abraham Lincoln's coffin was pried open twice. The first occasion was in 1887, twenty-two long years after his assassination. Why? You may be surprised to know it was not to determine if he had died of a bullet fired from John Wilkes Booth's derringer. Then why?

On a dangerous seacoast notorious for shipwrecks, there was a crude little lifesaving station. Actually, the station was merely a hut with only one boat . . . but the few devoted members kept a constant watch over the turbulent sea.

Are you attractive? I'm not referring to external beauty nor facial features. I'm asking if you are attractive—magnetic, winsome, charming, friendly. Listen to Proverbs 18:24a (KJV): "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly."

"It is impossible to overemphasize the immense need humans have to be really listened to, to be taken seriously, to be understood. No one can develop freely in this world and find a full life without feeling understood by at least one other person."