Faith & Family

“Want a cracker?" Kathy asked baby Carrie as she held it out to her plumpish daughter, who sat in her highchair.

Carrie grinned broadly as she stretched out her hand toward the treat. However, there was a problem. Although the thrust-out little hand indicated her anticipation, it was clenched into a fist. With a patient smile—and as Carrie squirmed in frustration—Kathy patiently and gently pried open the little fingers, then spread them out and inserted the cracker. Carrie crammed the cracker into her open mouth with wiggling pleasure and gave her mother a crumbly grin. Then she stretched out her hand again with another closed fist.

Kathy realized it would take time for Carrie to learn the process, so once again, she opened the baby’s hand to insert the cracker and said, “Darling, to get something good, you need an empty hand."

In a spiritual sense, this is something I need to learn, and it is what frequently happens when God is ready to graciously provide for me according to His will. However, I can’t accept what He offers when that happens because my hands are closed. Closed because I don’t want to accept His ideas because I think mine are superior. Indeed, to my way of thinking, I have my own perfect plans, and they’re better than His.   

Or so it seems. Then, when my own ideas don’t work out, I realize His were far superior. I finally saw that my clenched fist was the problem.

God's blessings and perfect provision are waiting for those with open hands. Open yours.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and winghundred.)

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They dared to grow up on me. Where did the time go?

Somehow, time slipped past, and I couldn’t recall when or how I seemed to have missed it. As mommas, we all hit that day of reckoning when the reality that our babies, those sweet little ones with the tiny fingers and toes we used to kiss gently, blossomed into full-fledged adults. My heart grew a little sad. It wasn’t a sadness that held regret, but a lonesome sadness–missing the times when ...

I was never a mom who dreaded her children. I tried to absorb every moment. We were a blended family, but to me, all the kids were “mine.” We raised them equally, loved them doubly, and missed them fully when they moved away from home to begin their adult lives. I hoarded those memories.

I love how Luke shares about Mary, the mother of Jesus, and how she pondered what the shepherds said they’d seen and heard. She held each word, each vivid picture in her heart. Imagine being the mother of Jesus, having the insight she had, and knowing only enough to understand that this infant was set aside.

Mary knew she had to remember every cherished moment. Luke described this perfectly. Being chosen as the bearer of God incarnate, Mary was but a child herself. Yet even as a young woman, she was the one God selected for a task that would be, at the least, a challenge. Still, she pondered every moment.

That’s what moms do. They ponder those moments with their babies. Whether they’ve borne them from their own bodies or are blessed to adopt, a mother’s instinct doesn’t change. She holds that baby, takes in every scent, wrinkle, and smile, and cherishes them.

The older I get, the longer I soak in those past moments from infancy to adulthood. I find myself drying my eyes because my children no longer need me as they once did. Now, I am their supporter, mentor, guide, and the one who loves them unconditionally. Like Mary, I hold to those precious moments only a mother can understand.

On this Mother’s Day, I am grateful. I don’t need flowers or cards–I simply need the love of my sons. Ponder the cherished memories and rejoice in the lives God has entrusted you to raise. They are gifts and blessings given from the Father of all.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and PublicDomainPictures.)

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I remember when two excited grandchildren had their first sleepover at my house.

At bedtime, I was privileged to choose the book to read—a book with one-page Bible stories and illustrations. Our evening reading included how God made Eve from Adam’s rib. I didn’t realize how attentively they listened until the following morning when they wanted me to climb into the sofa bed to snuggle. Although my right hip was not very cooperative, I eventually made it. The six-year-old piped up, “Maybe God could take out your bad hip and give you a new one!” Wouldn’t that be lovely? I thought. Someday, I’ll have a whole new body. Meanwhile, ibuprofen is my friend.

Human bodies do wear out. Illness and disease are a reality. We pray for healing and recovery. Many times, God honors those prayers with wholeness. In most cases, it comes with surgery, medical intervention, medicines, and physical therapy. Occasionally, we see God’s miraculous hand for a more immediate cure. But to our minds, it doesn’t happen often enough, and we wonder why.

Then Jesus said to her, “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed at that moment. Jesus’ response to the woman indicates His compassion. It wasn’t just in that moment when He complimented her faith or granted her request. The waiting in the moments before was not due to a lack of compassion. Instead, it created space for contemplation and developing that woman’s faith. She showed the strength of her commitment, allowing her to demonstrate her belief in Him through worship. And it allowed Jesus to make a grander statement in the end. His healing of the child had a more significant impact, cracking the door to ministry to those outside of the Jewish faith.

Our faith can still increase when we or those we love suffer. We can still worship Jesus as Lord and Savior and open our hearts to Him. Be eager for that day when, as one He’s redeemed, you experience your brilliant new body. Believe He has a plan for your heavenly healing.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Anemone123.)

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Fred was dead.

Fred was a Boston fern that had survived ten years happily beautifying our front porch in the summer and then wintering in the house hanging in a window. In the past decade, Fred and his companion Fran, also a Boston fern, had grown to a luxurious size. Neither had shown any previous problem wintering in the house.

Fran was still very much alive—bright green and a forest of leaves. But poor Fred had not made it through this past winter. My wife Charlotte, who has the green thumb in the family, had scoured for signs of life, going down into the roots and looking for even a hint of green. All she found were the brown and brittle remains of a once-thriving plant.

What was the difference between Fred and Fran? Fran had wintered in my office window. She received daily misting, weekly watering, and a couple of fertilizer boosts. She was perfectly happy.

On the other hand, Fred had spent the cold months in our grandson's bedroom, hanging in an east-facing window. Despite Caleb's being given a misting spray bottle and a watering can, poor Fred quickly fell to the bottom of his priority list. And then fell off the list altogether.

Now, in Caleb's defense, he is a live-at-home college freshman who also works nearly twenty-five hours a week serving fast-food burgers. He has plenty on his plate, and, except for poor Fred, he balances it pretty well. Still, fifteen seconds a day of misting and a couple of minutes a week of watering doesn't seem like it would be all that overwhelming. Fred would probably agree.

Actually, in a way, I'm just like Fred the fern. My Christian heart and mind also need daily misting and watering, except mine comes from the Word of God. I desperately need that daily immersion in God's perfect Word. I need the misting of God's love in my spirit and the watering that comes from the Lord's constant, never-ending presence. Like poor Fred, without it, my proverbial leaves, stems, and roots will become brown, brittle, and dead.

Open the Word and renew your heart and mind today.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and inonoyazy.)

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.)