Christmas doesn't have to be a time when intimacy is lost. In fact, it can be quite the opposite. Even with a small budget due to the strain of Christmas on your finances, follow the suggestions above or create your own romantic night.

7 Perspectives That Will Help Transform Your Prayer Life

My husband, Lee, stood next to the table at the county’s autism awareness walk and resource fair. Among the therapy providers, safety equipment salesmen, and lawyers advertising their services, the “Stewartstown Baptist Church Special-Needs Ministry” sign stood out. More than 2,000 people walked by that day. Some stopped and asked why a church would even be at the walk. My husband’s answer: He was there to share the good news of God’s love and tell people that our church was a safe place for families and their children with disabilities. The families Lee met at the fair that day represent one of the largest unchurched groups that exist in every community. A 2018 study shows that families like mine that have a child with autism are 84 percent less likely to attend church than a typical family. When you consider that 1 in 31 of the 8-year-old children in the United States has been diagnosed with autism, you realize the number of families missing from our churches is significant. The number of families affected by disability is bigger than just those with a member with autism, though. Of the 79.6 million households in the United States in 2019, 25.7 percent included at least one family member with a disability. To make that number more personal, I reached out to an administrator in my suburban school district, and she said that around 1 in 4 students in our district has some sort of accommodation plan. Many churches aren’t seeing this portion of the population represented. They’re an unreached people group in our midst. Missing Banquet Guests Families affected by disability are largely missing from children’s ministry classrooms, youth group activities, and outreach events like vacation Bible school. But in Luke 14, Jesus makes clear that they’re represented when he shares the parable of the great banquet. Special-needs families are an unreached people group in our midst. The guests that the master had invited sent back excuses for their absence. Jesus tells the story: So the servant came back and reported these things to his master. Then the master of the house became angry and said to his servant, “Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame.” And the servant said, “Sir, what you ordered has been done, and still there is room.” (Luke 14:21–22) Jesus uses this parable to teach his audience what God’s kingdom will look like. In Luke 14, he’s eating at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees (v. 1). Noticing how they chose places of honor at this dinner (v. 7), Jesus tells the parable of the wedding feast and the parable of the great banquet. God’s kingdom as Jesus depicts it inverts the Pharisees’ expectations. “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,” Jesus declares (v. 11). And in a theological system that correlated wellness to God’s blessing, Jesus shows that heaven will include “the poor and crippled and blind and lame” (v. 21). Though we long for the kingdom, many of the same people are missing from our churches. Practical Strategies Reaching families affected by disability is challenging. Space is limited, volunteers are hard to come by, budgets are tight, and starting a new ministry feels intimidating because of all the unknowns. But realistic, practical strategies can help overcome these challenges. I’ve worked with hundreds of churches that want to take steps toward accessibility but don’t know where to start. I include many more suggestions in my book, Accessible Church, but here are three simple ways to start. Reaching families affected by disability is challenging. But realistic, practical strategies can help overcome these challenges. First, most churches start by training additional helpers called buddies who provide extra help to kids who need it. Rather than immediately starting a specialized class, churches can begin by accommodating individual sensory or learning needs through personal support. As the ministry grows, churches may consider adding a class designed to meet the needs of a larger group. Second, churches can serve their community with outreaches like respite events. A respite event provides childcare for those with disabilities (and often their siblings) in a safe environment with fun activities. Our church offers respite events four times a year, advertising through social media groups, the local school district, and local therapy providers. Third, churches can empower the special-needs families already among them to see themselves as missionaries to other families like theirs. Such families are often familiar with diagnostic language. They’re present in the therapy or support centers with others in need, and they experience the same practical needs. Parents can be on mission when they’re in waiting rooms, at support groups, and any time they’re around other families like theirs. The gospel will spread when people can say, “Our church cares for all of us and understands our needs.” One of the families who stopped at our booth visited our church in the following weeks. The mother told my husband, “We want to take the kids to church but were nervous. When you said your church had a disability ministry we were interested. But when you said you have a son with autism and that your church loves him, we knew it could be the church home for us.” Most families affected by disability aren’t looking for a perfect ministry. They’re looking for a community that makes an effort to welcome their whole family. Their presence among us blesses our church and gives these families the opportunity to hear the gospel message.

I used to love mixed martial arts (MMA)—the submissions, the knockouts, the five-round wars—all of it. And I didn’t just love it from the couch. I’ve spent years on the mats. As a Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt, I deeply appreciate the skill, dedication, intelligence, and sacrifice that go into training for martial arts. Professional MMA fighting—a full contact sport that combines techniques from multiple combat styles—is another thing entirely. When I say I loved MMA, I mean it. I admired (and still do) a fighter’s work ethic, physical courage, and creativity under pressure. But in a single moment while watching a fiercely contested match, I changed my mind about MMA. I saw a fighter get knocked unconscious. That moment was problematic enough on its own. It’s hard to square the intentional infliction of brain injury with the biblical call to love our neighbor. But as I sat there watching the fighter’s limp body on the mat, I heard the crowd erupt in applause. I looked up and saw their faces as they celebrated the outcome. That’s when I realized: MMA isn’t just a sport; it’s a spectacle. It’s human-on-human violence for profit and entertainment. View Violence Biblically As soon as sin entered the world, violence entered with it—Cain rose up and killed his brother Abel (Gen. 4:8). From that point on, the earth has been “filled with violence” (6:11). This simple observation clues us in to the fact that violence isn’t morally neutral; it’s one of the earliest and clearest fruits of the fall. Violence isn’t morally neutral; it’s one of the earliest and clearest fruits of the fall. Certainly, Scripture recognizes that violence is sometimes necessary in a fallen world (Ex. 22:2–3; Rom. 13:4). Even so, we should see violence as a tragic necessity, not a spectacle for pleasure and profit—which is exactly what professional mixed martial arts has become. Many people have never experienced the violence of MMA firsthand, so they may have trouble comprehending just how brutal the sport really is. But pause for a moment and think about what’s taking place in that octagon: Men and women are striking each other with the specific aim of causing significant bodily harm. Every punch, every kick, every armbar is meant to crush, tear, or break. Imagine you’re sitting cage-side at a Ultimate Fighting Championship event. The bell rings, the crowd roars, and within seconds, a fighter’s nose is broken and blood is streaming down his face. A shin crashes against a rib cage, and you hear the dull thud of bone on bone as the fighter’s rib fractures. An ACL tears as one fighter kicks another in the side of the knee. The referee hovers, waiting to see if the opponent can still defend himself. And all the while, the audience cheers. This isn’t training, where partners work with restraint and respect. These fights are all-out competitions, where the reward goes to the fighter who can hurt his opponent the most. It raises questions about what moral good this sport exhibits. Gladiatorial Echoes Modern Christians aren’t the first to have asked questions about the value of violent sports. According to church tradition, a monk named Telemachus entered the Roman arena in the early fourth century to stop a gladiatorial fight. His opposition to the event wasn’t due to squeamishness but because the spectacle commodified violence and turned crowds into bloodthirsty mobs. Thus, when he tried to intervene, the enraged crowd stoned Telemachus to death. His act of conscience so shocked the emperor that the games were soon abolished. Professional MMA isn’t identical to the Roman arena, but the parallels are sobering. We should carefully evaluate what happens to our souls when our entertainment depends on the injury of human beings made in God’s image. Just as we question our culture’s notion that consent is a sufficient basis for a sexual ethic, so we should ponder whether an image-bearer consenting to potential injury or death can make such violence permissible. We should carefully evaluate what happens to our souls when our entertainment depends on the injury of human beings made in God’s image. I’ve raised my concerns about the violence of MMA publicly before. Some have questioned whether the same concern should be applied to the violence of a sport like football. In my view, that’s a false equivalence. American football involves violent collisions and real injuries; Christians should certainly think carefully about the game’s ethical boundaries. Even so, football and MMA are fundamentally different. The goal of football is to advance a ball and score points. Injury is a risk, not the primary purpose of the sport. When a player gets a concussion it’s a bug, not a feature, of the game. Over the past decade, the NFL has made significant rule changes to improve player safety. The fan culture has also changed, with spectators now more likely to respond with concern for an injured player rather than a celebration of the violence of the hit that knocked him unconscious. In contrast, in MMA, causing your opponent pain is the purpose of the sport. Good of Martial Arts I can personally attest to much of the good in martial arts training. It builds discipline, humility, respect, and resilience. In a gym setting, sparring is controlled, safety is prioritized, and the goal is skill development, not bodily harm. Moreover, martial arts training can help someone defend those who can’t defend themselves (Ps. 82:4), a laudable goal. But professional competition is different. The incentives shift. Fighters are rewarded for hurting their opponents. Promoters market the spectacle as modern gladiatorial combat. Some fighters see themselves as gladiators. Audiences pay to see people get hurt. According to one study, 57 percent of MMA matches had at least one reported injury. A more recent systematic review indicates that around 15 of 100 fighters experience a concussion during a match (usually the loser). Spectators crave short, decisive matches. As one commentator notes, “Whether it’s a jaw-dropping knockout or a bone-crushing, suffocating submission, fans crave a decisive finish.” In 2024, only a little over half of UFC fights went the full duration. There’s something fundamentally different about this sort of competition from the training that occurs in a local gym. Self-Examination Not everyone will come to the same conclusion about the morality of MMA as a sport. However, it’s worth considering the forms of entertainment we consume. 1. Examine our appetites. If we find pleasure in another person’s pain, we should ask, Is there anything godly in this joy? 2. Distinguish wisely. We shouldn’t lump all contact sports together. Rather, we should ask, What’s the purpose? What’s the spectacle? What’s the cost? Christians should celebrate sports and disciplines that form strength, courage, and endurance without commodifying harm. 3. Exhort with gentleness. Some Christians will see no issue with MMA. Several vocal Christians are among the ranks of professional fighters. Though I’m fully convinced of my position, it may take time for others to understand the problems involved in MMA. The way forward is nuanced conversation, not condemnation. I once defended the manly virtues of MMA. I’ve rolled thousands of hours on the mats and still value the discipline of martial arts in a fallen world. But my conscience has shifted. Christians shouldn’t retreat from sport or strength but redeem them—we should love skill, discipline, and courage without celebrating injury.

If your Christmas feels more chaotic than calm, this prayer will help you see beauty in the broken and rediscover the wonder of the manger.