Faith & Family

A very ancient movement exists today, a movement to worship Mother Earth.

Hoping to have a heightened spiritual experience, people try to connect with spirits they believe inhabit trees and animals. They see all life as having value, feelings, and intelligence, and they worship it, not the One who designed and cares for it.

In contrast, some believe animals are dumb beasts, simply useful for work or experiments in science. This makes me sad. But others are fascinated by the wildlife God created. They study and film birds, butterflies, lions, giraffes, gorillas, and monkeys. Some dedicate their lives to rescuing abused, abandoned, or unwanted cats, dogs, donkeys, horses, and even sheep. I know a woman who lives in near poverty because she cares for a dozen cats in her trailer home as a foster mom until someone adopts them.

One thing is true: God loves His animals. He rebuked Job with testimonies of His passion for caring for the creatures He created. He praises another for allowing the sparrow to nest by God’s altar, and Jesus declared that not one sparrow falls outside the Father’s care.

Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying: “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” This verse in Revelation delights me. At a time when many mock and despise Jesus, the creatures He created sing forth His worship. Let’s join them.

Think of some ways you can show appreciation for God’s creatures. 

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and susannp4.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

One day when driving to visit my mother, I watched a simple four-hour drive turn into a fiasco.

Pouring rain hit near Portland—one of those gushers where you can hardly see in front of you. Maybe that’s why I missed the usual turnoff to avoid traffic. Several wrecks then slowed driving to a snail’s pace. I was thankful to be safe but anxious to be on my way.

Unfortunately, by not changing lanes in time, I headed for downtown Portland. Following the signs, I drove and drove without finding the freeway. After asking directions, I turned around and found an on-ramp in minutes.

Thirty minutes later, I breathed a prayer of thanks. The following two hours were uneventful. It was already dark, but I would be in my mother’s living room in forty minutes. The first North Bend sign came up, and I anxiously awaited the exit—but for some reason, drove right past it. (Should I blame the audiobook I listened to?)

I was just about to give it all up for a good cry, but a full moon loomed overhead. At least that made the night a little brighter, and I felt less alone with the moon smiling down on me—laughing, perhaps. But I knew I was not alone. God was with me and looked out for me. I prayed for safety and pulled off the freeway to turn around. A few minutes later, I once again headed for Mom’s, this time taking the correct exit.

Occasionally, we all do something that makes us feel stupid, frightened, or uncertain. But one thing is sure—we are never alone.

I wasn’t alone on that dark, rainy night, but I had to remind myself of that fact. I am not alone today, sitting at the computer or when temptation strikes or a challenging day discourages me. To doubt God’s presence is to mistrust God and call Him a liar. God's promise to Joshua is His promise to us.

Take some measured steps that will help you take God at His Word.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and 453169.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

My four-year-old granddaughter followed closely behind me one afternoon as I pulled weeds from my flower beds. Her small hands grasped the ugly nuisances right along with mine. After we had gathered a small pile of weeds to throw away, Selah asked, “Nana, why do you pull the weeds?” Although I’m retired, the teacher in me came out. This was a teachable moment.

I described how rapidly weeds grow and how they can get so big they will choke out the pretty flowers. I also explained how flowers look prettier without the weeds hanging around them.

“Selah, did you know our hearts are like flower beds and get weeds too?”

She frowned. “No, what do you mean, Nana?”

“Well, when our hearts are full of love, kindness, and obedience, they are like a pretty flower garden for God. But when we say bad words, don’t tell the truth, or disobey, we grow weeds in our hearts. It’s just as important to pull the weeds out of our hearts as it is out of Nana’s flower beds.”

I smiled when Selah took her hand and felt her heart under her shirt as if she wanted to pluck heart weeds right then and there. Ahh, the innocence of a child.

Adult weeds might be bitterness, hate, selfishness, deception, gossip, entitlement, or complacency. The spiritual weed list is quite lengthy. Even so, the more we cultivate our heart gardens by eliminating sinful attributes, the more our spiritual flowers of love, forgiveness, grace, patience, and hospitality will grow lovelier, and the peace of God will rule in our hearts.

What spiritual weeds do you need to pluck from your heart?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and summa.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

He sat on the porch in tears holding an Easter egg. “It’s broke.”

My youngest son was four and didn’t understand that plastic eggs break open—usually to offer a surprise. He held up two pieces of a red egg, his tears dripping.

“Some things are meant to be broken. Look what fell out of your broken egg.” I handed him a candy kiss. “See.”

He smiled as he took the candy.

At age ten, that same boy dropped a plastic egg on my lap. “Mom, remember when I cried because my Easter egg was broken?”

I nodded yes.

“My Sunday school teacher told us Jesus was not meant to have any broken bones when He died.”

“That’s what Scripture tells us. Not one of His bones will be broken. The book of John proves that.” I smiled he’d even remembered the broken egg.

“I guess Jesus was a good egg.” He giggled.

When John penned his epistle, we see him at the foot of the cross, standing by Jesus until the bitter end. He probably didn’t realize he’d be the last living disciple—the final witness. He’d walked, studied, and preached with Jesus during Jesus’ entire three-year ministry. John knew and served the Messiah. He saw before his eyes the Scripture fulfilled in and through Jesus. John could verify everything Scripture said that Christ is “truth.” Even that not one of His bones was broken so that Scripture would be fulfilled. John saw it all.

At the death of Christ, so many things were in play that we sometimes miss the extended significance. Jesus died for our sins. Salvation came through Him. We may not have walked physically with Jesus as John did, but we are still His living witnesses to His sacrifice and truth.

As we celebrate this Easter season, remember it’s not just a one-day celebration. It’s a life-long celebration. Lift your hands, sing hallelujah, and praise His name, for the Truth who came to earth as a man was sacrificed on our behalf and raised in victory over death. Not a bone was broken. Be a witness to this truth. You can, as in the words of a child, proclaim that “Jesus was a good egg.”

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and jatocreate.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

I was talking, but not tasting.

My mother-in-law, Miriam, offered to make sandwiches for lunch. Of course, who can turn down a homemade sandwich? Munching through the still-warm grilled cheese, I mumbled something about its deliciousness and casually mentioned it would be better if it had ham.

I noticed her sheepish smile. “It has ham in it, Nate.”

Once I stopped talking, I could taste what I ate. Then the Holy Spirit used that as a teachable moment. I thought, If you had shut up and enjoyed the sandwich, you would have tasted its full flavor.

God immediately brought this verse from Psalms to our conversation: Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. I love how God invites us to be still, quiet, and rest in His presence. We realize His amazing goodness once we taste His serenity, even amid our hectic schedules and adverse realities. But we must stop ourselves.

With my sandwich, I had to stop talking to taste the ham. With God, I need to quiet my mind, get alone with Him, and feast on His savory Word. The Holy Spirit invades such times with the home-cooking aroma of heaven. That is when I must resist the temptation to insert myself and start spouting nonsensical stuff. God’s still small voice reminds me, “This is My beloved Son—hear Him.”

Everyone has stories to tell. Overflowing media venues are proof of much talking and little tasting. Stories, like parables, can provide earthly applications to spiritual truths, but I wonder if our propensity to share doesn’t stunt our spiritual tastebuds. God may share His unique sandwich with us for our spiritual needs and growth at that moment.

In those quiet sandwich moments, I get more insight into who God is and what He is trying to impart to me if I stop thinking and responding. He faithfully fulfills His promise to fill my mouth if I open wide. And savoring His feast is far better than talking with my mouth full.

Maybe it’s time to do more tasting than talking.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and StockSnap.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)