The Spirit in Family

I have experienced a lot of hatred and animosity for my faith in Jesus Christ, and some people become irritated because of my love for Him.

As I write this devotion, I have dealt with some rather impatient and not-so-friendly people inside and outside the church who didn’t particularly like me engaging with the church or talking about Jesus. I encountered people who passive-aggressively hinted that they didn’t want me there and didn’t like me talking about Jesus. I felt discouragement, animosity, and even competition when I tried to talk about theological topics.

However, as I considered how to deal with this opposition and the cost of following Jesus, I remembered that Jesus warned how the world would hate us because it hated Him long before it hated us. People will hate those who preach the truth because they prefer the comfort of a lie over the truth.

The world—in its sinful rebellion, pride, and selfish ambition—hates Christ and anyone who exposes its sin and proclaims Christ is the only way to heaven. As such, we should expect persecution, animosity, and hatred from those outside the church, carnal Christians, and wolves in sheep’s clothing who only want to use the gospel for their selfish and covetous purposes.

If you are under attack because of your love for Jesus or your passion for bringing the gospel in a sound and biblical way, don’t be surprised. You are facing spiritual warfare. Christ foretold these persecutions and sorrows, but be encouraged. Christ has already overcome the world.

“Did he do that for me?” asked five-year-old little Dawson, raising his eyebrows.

I am a stepmom, or a bonus mom as we affectionately prefer to say. Dawson is not my son or stepson. Rather, he is the brother of my bonus daughters and has a set of eyebrows that speak volumes. Our family is blessed to have a beautiful co-parenting relationship, and both my husband’s ex-wife and I interact with all the children from our various families.

On this particular day, Dawson and I went for ice cream and to wait for his mom so we could switch out children. “The Commission” by Cain was playing on the radio when the Spirit moved the biggest blue eyes on a weekday afternoon in the middle of mundane blended-parent life.

I explained to Dawson that, yes, Christ did do that for him. The wonder on his face broke my heart and filled it simultaneously. He asked a few more questions, and I asked if he knew Jesus. He assured me he did.

By the time his mom came, I had tears in my eyes. The magnitude of Jesus’ sacrifice hit me. As Dawson and I conversed, I saw Jesus hanging on the cross. I viewed the nails ripping into His skin and the sinful weight of the world weighing on His shoulders. I felt His forgiveness and love wash over me as I sat in the grocery store parking lot, exhausted from a typical day. I thought about how Jesus leaves the ninety-nine to find the one. His love, a love that pursues, is bigger than our comprehension—yet simple enough for little ones to understand.

With the chaos of adulthood, we often miss the mark. Jesus said we should have a childlike faith. How different would life be if we only rested in a faith like Dawson’s? What if we did not question every obstacle or try to fix every problem ourselves? If only we would rest in God’s love for us. If only we could sit with Jesus for a while and go to Him as a little child. After all, he is our Father.

Find ways to sit with your heavenly Father daily and reflect on His love for you.  

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names will never hurt you.

As a young and naïve child, I heard that expression and believed it was true. After all, people told me derogatory names or words couldn’t physically hurt me. Nonetheless, after repeatedly being called egghead, C (because of my poor posture), and dumb blonde—not to mention being ostracized for my lack of makeup and criticized for what I did or didn’t do—I found it difficult to neglect the pain.

Toxic words wounded me psychologically and emotionally, and I developed a negative self-image. The damage was as bad as a physical blow. Soon, I believed I was unaccepted, unworthy, and unloved for who I was. Essentially, others’ words formed my identity.

I praise God for His life-changing truth in the Bible. After becoming God’s child as an adult, I realized I no longer had the false identity given to me by people’s words. Instead, God gave me my identity. According to God’s Word, I am deeply loved, completely forgiven, accepted, and complete in Christ.

Ask God to help you realize the power of your tongue. Use it to build others up, not tear them down. God can help you recognize the poison in your tongue and how to speak only what is pleasing to Him. And remember, your identity comes from God, not what others say about you.

Long ago, deep in the last century, I was a Boy Scout. This was back when being a Boy Scout meant learning something useful. Studying practical skills like walking into the woods with just a pocketknife and not starving or dying of hypothermia. It also meant embodying the Boy Scout motto of "Be Prepared," which basically meant learning how to not find yourself in the position of walking into the woods with just a pocketknife to survive.

I loved my time as a Boy Scout. During those years, every summer, my parents would ship me off for two weeks to the Western North Carolina Boy Scout Camp at Raven Knob, about fifteen miles west of Mt Airy, NC. This was where most scouts worked on merit badges, usually testing for five to ten badges each session. On one summer visit to Raven Knob, my third, I was going for one of the most coveted badges: camping.

There wasn't time in just two weeks to teach all a scout needed to know about camping to obtain the badge. A scout was expected to know how to survive in the woods before he got to Raven Knob. Because back then, to pass the Camping Merit Badge requirements, they simply handed you a topographical map and a compass, told you where on the map to make camp, had you shoulder a pack, and told you to report back in three days. And off you went. No GPS, no cell phone, and no alert necklace … you were on your own.

My pack was checked by counselors and passed muster before I departed. I think they wanted to ensure I remembered to pack food and didn't forget my tent. One of the most necessary items in my pack was my well-worn copy of the Boy Scout Fieldbook. (All these years later, it’s still one of the best outdoor books I've ever read.) I had read it cover to cover, and I knew if I got stuck on something, the Fieldbook would bail me out. And boy, did it. I referred to it over and over when setting up my camp. Eventually, most of this would be second nature, but for this trip I didn't yet have enough experience. I did have the Fieldbook, and that proved to be enough. I earned my Camping Merit Badge.

Surviving in this fallen world is much more terrifying than stepping off into the woods on a solo camping trip. Fortunately, our loving Father has provided us with our own "Fieldbook" to sustain us—a step-by-step survival guide. He has given us His glorious Word, voice, and loving instruction—all to help us weather this world. God implores us to immerse ourselves in the Bible, to meditate on what it says, and to plant His Word in our hearts.

It isn’t always easy. Satan attacks the Word and my ingesting of it every chance he gets. But I have to constantly remind myself—and this might help you as well—that when the Great King of all the Universe gives us His survival guide, it's probably an excellent idea to read it.

Are you prepared?

Just finished the lawn—yet again. Mowing is a bit tedious, so I’m trying to get the roar out of my ears by replacing it with a friend’s organ music on YouTube. In the meantime, I stumbled on a choir singing “It is Well with My Soul.” I love that song.

One of the things I liked best about being a youth director was taking the youth to concerts like Winter Jam. We could enjoy about a dozen popular bands for ten dollars, some with great special effects. Disney’s Night of Joy and Universal’s Rock the Universe were also safe places to take a youth group.

Youth for Christ once had an event called DC/LA. I attended twice, once in Washington, DC, and once in Cincinnati, Ohio. In Cincinnati we had our picture taken with David Crowder.

The main reason I took my youth to events like these—along with mission trips, prayer walks, community service events, and Bible studies on top of mountains—is the hope that they would fall in love with the Lord. There is so much negativity and temptation in the world. Without someone caring and leading young people to Christ, they might never know Jesus or appreciate all He has done for us.

Think of the sacrifices the apostles and other missionary types have given over the centuries to reach the lost—from giving up a normal family life to giving up their very lives. The small things many church workers have given up pale in comparison to the martyrs of the faith.

I often think of what I have done for the gospel’s sake, but I also think about how often I have let the Lord down by not accomplishing all I could have and still shy away from. We should want to please God. Unfortunately, we often only try to please Him if it pleases us.

Be both a hearer and doer of God’s Word. Be purely devoted to Him. Let God stretch your faith. It is that important.

“Can I have a cookie?”

“May I have a cookie?” she corrected. “Yes, dear, but only one.”

We knew right where they were. On the bottom shelf of Grandma’s free-standing cupboard in the kitchen, in a chipped, enamelware tin, we’d find them. Most often, they were the simple, store-bought variety, and (wise Grandma) so difficult to sneak, with the metal lid clanging as we’d reach in to take one.

Though not homemade, Grandma’s cookies were delicious, especially when washed down with cold milk. Over the years, no matter how much my sister and I grew, blossoming from little girls to young women, we could count on cookies in that simple-though-sturdy tin.

And in a world with so much change, such was a reassurance. After all, though its outward appearance wasn’t special, Grandma’s cookie box held promise. What was on the inside mattered most. Much like Grandma. With only an eighth-grade education, my father’s mother—this petite woman wearing handmade dresses, dark stockings, and braided hair in a bun—was wise.

Was it the decades she’d lived? The numerous books she’d read? Perhaps. But more, I believe her wisdom was the result of many hours in prayer and a daily diet of God’s Word, which she applied to real life once she’d risen from her knees.

Just like her enamelware cookie box, Grandma’s outward appearance wasn’t perfect or fancy in any way, but inside, she held a promise. The one who was faithful to fulfill His promises was home in her wise, though childlike heart.

Similar to the Proverbs 31 woman, the one we often read about, then wonder, How can I measure up—tending to the many needs of others while managing the affairs of my own family?

The secret? Like her, it’s in our reverence for and worship of the Lord.

And that, friends, makes the difference. In our worship and reverence, we can each offer the world the promise of our Savior.

Are you sharing what matters most with the world? If not, think of something you can change. 

I drove along a curved coastal freeway as the sinking sun reddened the glassy ocean in the distance. Darkness engulfed my soul as evening closed in. I had nowhere to sleep that night except in my car, an embarrassment to drive around. A massive dent I couldn’t afford to fix marred the passenger side door.

Sad memories piled into a hopeless heap like my belongings slumped in black plastic trash bags in the back seat. Years of chaos and dysfunction had worn me down. I felt lost in a world of people who seemed to have it all together: jobs, college degrees, a home of their own, solid relationships—none of which I had. The ease of taking my life taunted me. No one would miss me if I drove off the freeway’s edge.

I barely noticed the rumble strips warning me to pay attention as I negotiated the curve. Suddenly, the ringtone from my cell phone jolted me from my daze, and I swerved back onto the road. A friend discerned I was not okay. He offered to put me up at a hotel for the evening so I could rest.

Shifting my grip on the steering wheel, I steered away from contemplating the worst and toward sleep instead. Crawling into bed with puffy eyes, a light shining through the blinds of my pitch-black hotel room caught my attention. It was as if hope in the form of light reached between the gaps to remind me that no amount of suffering could darken my life enough to prevail against God’s plans for me.

Jesus is the creator and sustainer of our lives. He gives us the illumination we need because darkness exists. We need to see things as they are. Darkness will never overcome the light of Jesus.

God loves us so much that when He foresaw the sin and suffering that would darken and distort our lives, He chose to create us anyway because He wants us and has a plan for us. Some of our greatest blessings emerge from hardships that threaten to detach us from what holds us back from freely loving Him. There will be a time when He will wipe every tear from our eyes, and we will live pain-free. Until then, He will use the troubles that have infested our lives to transform us into the person He created us to be.

Don’t let hardships hold you back from freely living and loving Jesus. 

Fritz, our large, six-year-old, orange tabby house cat, trotted happily out the door with me onto our front porch. With tail held high, he bounced by my side into the hot, humid August afternoon.

Every day, Fritz would take his “walkabout.” He would take off on a long circuit of his world here on our Tennessee ridge. He is usually gone a couple of hours, returning in time for his supper in the late afternoon. Our property borders a Wildlife Management Area along the Duck River, which is designated a National Scenic River along this miles-long stretch.

The Wildlife Management Area means wildlife is protected, and because of this, we are used to a wide variety of creatures and critters meandering through our yard—deer, turkeys, ’possums, raccoons, skunks, foxes, boar, and a host of the other usual suspects. Fritz is familiar with all these, and despite being quite territorial and possessive of his ridge to other male cats, he adopts a live-and-let-live attitude with nearly all wildlife. I’ve seen a flock of turkeys pass peacefully around him as he lounged lazily on a rock in the middle of them. (Rodents and snakes are another story, however. Frequently, Fritz will proudly bring those home as gifts … sometimes while they are still wiggling.)

But this day differed. Fritz took a couple of steps onto the porch and froze. His nostrils went into overdrive. Hopping up on a table for a better look, he slowly scanned the front yard while tasting the air, his tail occasionally swishing with concern. Eventually, he focused on the thick woods that border the eastern edge of our property, the tree line about a hundred feet away.

His body went rigid, and his hackles rose. His tail sliced the air. Occasionally, he would look back over his shoulder at me to make sure I was still close, his green eyes as wide as quarters. Something was out there. A something he didn’t like and even feared—and I have rarely seen Fritz fear anything. Cats aren’t called nature’s gunslingers for no reason.

I didn’t see a thing. I scanned the area carefully with binoculars but saw nothing. When I got up to go back inside, Fritz dashed to the door with me and slipped safely back into the house. Definitely no walkabout today.

Fritz sensed something he couldn’t see, and he heeded that warning. I, too, have an early warning system. God’s wonderful gift, His Comforter, His presence in the form of His Holy Spirit, lives in me. The Spirit sees things I don’t, sees across time, teaches me, and helps guide me through the hidden dangers of this fallen world. Often, my problem is stilling the clutter in my mind long enough to hear the Holy Spirit’s soft voice speaking. I must focus on God’s Word, let His peace soothe the chaos that usually swirls in my head, and most importantly, listen for and recognize that sweet soft voice.

Are you listening for the Spirit’s voice?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)

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The word “biopsy” triggered fear as I listened to the nurse on the phone explain why I needed to make an appointment for the next day. My mind dove into a dark place of what-ifs, conjuring up all the worst possible outcomes. What if the growth on top of my head was cancerous? Who would care for my family if I didn’t survive? Uncomfortable pressure from the lump intensified as I imagined how my family would cope. But worrying doesn’t work.

Fear of the unknown made for a restless night. The next day,  I arrived at the doctor’s office with puffy eyes and a knotted-up stomach. After examining the bump, the dermatologist determined a biopsy wasn’t needed. We scheduled an appointment to remove it.

Instead of leaving the office relieved, my mind went into another tailspin. What if the professionals handling my case discovered something unexpected during the operation? Or the incision got infected during recovery? Waiting a full two weeks for surgery felt agonizing, but it eventually came and went. The tumor biopsy results came back negative. It didn’t take long to realize all the time and energy I spent worrying was unnecessarily exhausting for me and my loved ones.

Leaning on worry when facing problems doesn’t work, but leaning on God does. Prayer and petition with thanksgiving demonstrates our faith in God’s goodness and provision despite what we’re experiencing. Communicating honestly with Him about what we need draws spiritual resources into our physical reality.

Every trial is an invitation from God to trust in His ability to handle the adverse events that come our way and help us cope. When we face unpredictable circumstances, we may use worry to keep our emotional guard up, brace for the worst-case scenario, or give us a sense of control in an alarming situation. But no amount of worrying can prevent what happens to us in the future. Worry steals our joy, kills our faith, and destroys our strength. Unbridled worry can wreak havoc on our relationships, impair our performance, and create medical problems from the stress.

Get honest with God about what you’re worried about. Invite Him into your problem. Tell Him your worries, and ask for His help. Release your fear, despair, and pain into His capable hands. Seize the peace, strength, and hope He provides daily to overcome the difficulty.  

As we prepared for a family member's 100th birthday celebration, everything seemed to come together just as we intended.

The week before the event, the weather forecast included rain. Honestly, I was disappointed and started to pray that the forecast would change. We wanted a bright, sunny day. The rain would cause us to modify our plans and likely damper what we intended to be a joyful day.

On the morning of the celebration, the forecasted percentage of rain had increased to 95%, more than the 40% originally forecasted. As I listened to the hard rain fall outside on the celebration day, similar tears fell from my eyes. My grandfather had passed away unexpectedly 364 days before. He was the reason we were planning the 100th birthday celebration. It was one of the last things he spoke about during his last day on earth.

As I prayed again for God to stop the rain on this beautiful occasion, God reminded me that rain is beneficial, although at times inconvenient. Droughts are naturally drier-than-average conditions. Our family had been in an emotional drought as we worked through our grief. But my perspective shifted, and God reminded me that only rain can cure the drought.

I began to praise God for the rain and viewed it as His way of replenishing our souls and addressing the drought we had experienced. Rain increases growth, and I believe the rain on that day was symbolic. God would grow us and restore every area of lack.

Sometimes, we have to shift our perspective to realize that God is in control and gives us what we need when we need it, not always when we want it.

Do you need to shift your pespective? Ask God to help you.

One of the first things I taught my son to say was “Thank you.” I can still remember the cute way he said it as a toddler. He looked at us with an enormous smile and bright eyes and exclaimed, “Tank you!”

My son is a teenager now, but I remind him daily to say thank you. I have always thought showing appreciation to people, especially God, was necessary. When we say thank you, we acknowledge we have received a blessing. Thank you is an expression of the gratitude we feel for that blessing. It’s an essential practice in our lives.

Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; His love endures forever. The Bible mentions this Scripture six times and the phrase “give thanks” fifty-two times. It must be important if give thanks is noted that much.

Everyone appreciates a thank you. It’s an acknowledgment of effort and sacrifice. When we say thank you to God, it shows we recognize how blessed and thankful we are.

We have many reasons to give thanks to God. He gave His only Son, Jesus Christ, so that we could experience salvation. One of the benefits of that salvation is the love and care God has for each of us that endures forever. Just these two facts are reasons to give thanks, not to mention how God blesses us daily by answering our prayers. Those are a few of the million reasons to be thankful.

Today, take a few moments to thank God for all He has done. Remember to show Him how thankful you are through your everyday actions. May we never stop thanking and praising Him for the many blessings He bestows on us.  

The shadows cast by the trees in our front yard stretched out toward the east. In the dying light of the setting sun, they grew longer by the minute. I stood on our front porch and anxiously called for Fritz, our eight-year-old orange tabby cat. He was very late returning to the house. It was just a few days before Thanksgiving, and the season's first hard freeze was forecast for this very night.

Fritz has roamed the five acres of our Middle Tennessee ridge since he was a kitten. Every morning he would request that the front door be opened so his highness might exit. Assuming the weather was to his liking, out the door he would go to make his rounds and explore his territory. But he had always returned in time for his midafternoon dinner. Until today.

I called his name again and waited a few minutes. No Fritz. I began to get a distinct feeling of unease. I slipped my feet into my hiking boots, grabbed my trusty hickory walking stick, clipped my knife to my belt, jammed a flashlight in my pocket, and set off out the door.

Calling his name periodically, my wife Charlotte and I set off on a grand circle of the property. We stopped occasionally to check some of his known hunting stops. Nothing. By now, the sun had slipped below the horizon, and the twilight deepened by the minute.

As we reached three-quarters of the way around the property, I called Fritz's name again. At the very edge of my hearing, I heard ... something. It might have been a cat or it might have been a bird. Moving about a hundred feet, I called again. And again. A reply came. This time, I was sure it was a cat. After moving and calling again, I was sure it was Fritz.

Slowly, we homed in on his cry. Suddenly, a few feet away in the dark undergrowth of the woods, something four-legged bounded off into the night. Fritz cried out again, this time very close. It was Charlotte who spotted him, nearly seventy-five feet in the air, clinging to the very top of a tree. His hackles were in full extension from head to tail. Whatever had run him up the tree had probably just run off as we approached.

Fritz turned himself around and started backing down the tree. When he got within range, he jumped into my arms with a look that said, What took you so long? Cats. Gotta love them.

Jesus will never stop looking for those of His flock who are lost. The Word provides numerous examples of the Lord reaching out to save those who beseech Him. It doesn't matter if you're clinging to the top of a tree with your hindquarters hanging out in the breeze or curled up on the floor of a cold, concrete jail cell. If you call to Jesus, He will answer. 

Call to Him today.

My sister and I have not given each other Christmas presents since 1971. Do we not celebrate Christmas together? Are we mad at one another? Is this an ongoing family feud? Far from it. We meet with extended family as we have for years. Our time together includes reading the Christmas story from Luke 2, praying, having a potluck feast, listening to music, and receiving gifts under the tree. We purchase presents for other family members, with a focus on children, but no exchange for the two of us.

We decided to forego gift-wrapped items that soon break or wear out for something with lasting value. During the summer of 1971, we married within three months of one another and faced the usual financial challenges of newlyweds. However, we both believed in the importance of mission work. Inspired by the story of a single female missionary who gave her life for the people she served, we wanted to give as much as possible to our church’s annual international mission offering. Like those who initiated the offering, we longed for people worldwide to hear the message of God’s love. Years later, I opened a small package from one of my sister’s sons. The card inside said his Christmas gift was a donation to international mission work. I cried.

As we read in Old Testament festival instructions, Jesus’ teachings, and others in the New Testament, everyone can give something. Throughout the Bible, we also read that God values each gift, whether large or small.

Remember to thank God this Christmas for the gift of love and forgiveness through Jesus. Also, ask God to help you discover new ways to consistently and sacrificially share that gift with our hurting world.

All was calm.

Our Tennessee family steered their packed SUV down our driveway early Sunday morning for their eight-hour trip home. Everything, including the weather, had cooperated during their stay.

An impending thunderstorm loomed in the distance on the previous Saturday afternoon. I hastily guided my pontoon boat onto the lift to watch the sun unpredictably break through the clouds, disperse the storm, and invite me to jump into the water to cool off.

My family’s visit was perfect—a success. There were no accidents, illnesses, or mishaps. Even my cousin’s childhood friend navigated through two hours of Atlanta traffic to spend the day with her BFF.

“Life is too good,” I thought as I turned to walk into the house. “When is the other shoe going to drop?”

Gremlins in the recesses of my mind haunted me. This can’t be true. You don’t deserve this peace. Where is the turmoil, stress, and evil that should be lurking at your door?

Sound familiar? Why do we let our thoughts of dread tarnish good times? Why can’t we relax and thank our heavenly Father for all His incredible blessings right now? No one can accurately predict when storms will hit, so why spoil fun in the meantime? Why look for what might be waiting in the wings?

God promised to prepare us for all that lies ahead—mountain and valley, calm and storm. As a loving Father, He directs us to be still and watch Him fight the battles.

Determine to breathe, relax, and trust God while you enjoy the calm, knowing He has equipped you to face any storm.

Our kids’ brown and white hamster traveled around the living room floor inside his clear plastic exercise ball, tiny legs a blur. The round cage bumped against chair legs, the couch, and an end table and finally rolled along the wall.

The hamster’s erratic journey was comical but somehow sad. The hamster probably believed his efforts would eventually pay off as the ball hurtled around the room. But as fast as he ran, he remained confined inside his plastic prison, unable to experience true freedom of movement. In reality, the little creature went nowhere fast.

Jesus teaches the scribes and Pharisees (the Jewish experts in God’s law) that they are slaves to sin because they practice sin. Jesus also proclaims the gospel’s good news to them: the Son of God can forgive people of their sins and set them free.

Tragically, many religious leaders didn’t receive Jesus’ offer of forgiveness with joy. But why wasn’t the gospel good news to them? These two powerful parties had created a closed religious system of self-made righteousness and human authority, which they believed was airtight. The scribes interpreted God’s law as they saw fit, and the Pharisees supported them.

This uncontested bubble of authority rolled along smoothly until an obscure rabbi from Nazareth confronted their hypocrisy and hard hearts. Ironically, those claiming to be experts in the law did not recognize the Son of God, the lawgiver, when He looked them straight in the eye. They rejected Jesus and His offer of forgiveness in favor of their self-righteous, airtight prison of sin.

It’s easy to criticize the scribes and Pharisees for running inside their self-righteous bubble and rejecting Jesus’ offer of forgiveness. But what’s our bubble? Gossip or envy of what others have? Thinking we’re better than someone else? Not forgiving someone who’s wronged us? Justifying ourselves is easy, but it always lands us inside the hamster ball.

If needed, ask Jesus to forgive you today. He’s ready and willing to set you free from your sin.

After being betrayed by a close friend and let down by numerous others, the man became a recluse. He lived a lonely, solitary life separated from society. “I don’t need anyone,” he told himself—and anyone who dared to question—“not even God.”

The truth is that God did not create us to navigate this life alone. He created us for fellowship with Him and others. The Bible says two are better than one. That could mean a spouse, friend, family member, or co-worker. God knits hearts together so that we can live in community while helping, encouraging, and strengthening each other. Some say there is a direct link between our health and our relationships.

David had Jonathan, Ruth had Naomi, and Timothy had Paul. When we refuse to allow others into our lives, we are unfulfilled and incomplete. Before God created Eve as a helpmate for Adam, God declared that it was not good to be alone.

The Word for You Today says:

None of us can develop to our highest potential unless we’re plugged in to nurturing, life-giving relationships. The highest and best form of this relationship is referred to in Scripture as the “fellowship of the Spirit.” It’s not just a social, relational, or intellectual connection but a deep spiritual link that causes us to thrive.

Someone once said we should never stay where we’re simply tolerated; we should remain where we’re celebrated. Think of the people in your life. Do they cause you to thrive? If so, cherish and nourish those relationships. They are God’s gift.

The world went quiet as the chainsaw wound down, the last revolutions of its roar echoing off the far ridge before disappearing into silence. For a few long seconds, the former majestic eighty-foot oak fought against the gravity tugging it back to earth. Then, with a moaning crack deep inside its trunk, it trembled and shifted on the thin hinge left by the chainsaw. The heavy trunk kicked high as the bulk of the tree slammed into the earth with a whoosh THUNK that vibrated up my legs from the soles of my shoes.

The ancient oak had probably been here on the ridge since the Civil War roared around it 161 years ago. But it was diseased, fatally so, and poised a danger to our home. It wasn't alone. Another oak, smaller and younger but just as fatally sick, was already prostrate across the yard. Also, several thick branches had stretched ominously toward the roof of the house.

The tree surgeons had swarmed over our trees, wielding their chainsaws like lightsabers as they pruned, cut, and cleared. Now, their work done, they packed away the tools of their trade in their somewhat battered white van and disappeared down the driveway and off the ridge.

Their work was done, but ours was just beginning. There was probably a cord of firewood scattered across the yard, but unfortunately, it was still in its original form. For the next several weekends—armed with chainsaws, handsaws, hatchets, axes, sledgehammers, and splitters—we worked to clean up the mess for the next several weekends. And gain firewood for the winter.

I hated seeing holes in the leafy tree canopy that had once covered our home. But I would have hated even more to see holes in our roof from dead limbs crashing to earth. Deadwood must be trimmed, and dead trees must be brought to earth.

In the same way I work to keep the trees in our yard healthy, God likes to prune me. And like most living things, I suppose I produce more fruit when pruned. Disappointment, grief, family troubles, loss, circumstances that seem unfair, jealousy, and worry over health problems are all rubbish the Lord likes to show me. Fortunately, His Word is so sharp it doesn't hurt much when He prunes.

If you have deadwood in your life, use our Father's help and His razor-sharp Word to prune it out. Then have yourself a nice bonfire.

On a warm Florida fall day, my husband and I drove to Chamblin Bookmine to sell a box of books. Whenever I have a fair number of books to release, I start with Chamblin’s. Whatever they don’t take, I donate.

Because there were stacks of books from other customers ahead of us, the clerk asked if we would like to browse the store as we waited. I preferred to go outside to enjoy the sunshine, but I decided to take him up on his offer. I later realized the reason.

As my husband and I browsed the aisles of books, my hand eventually landed on a small book, Object Lessons from Nature, by Sylvia M. Mattson. I paused and leafed through the pages, noticing that the author used lessons about nature to teach lessons about Christ-centered living. 

Finding this little Jesus-filled book in Chamblin’s felt like finding a needle in a haystack. The store clerk later informed me they had just gotten this treasure in, and I knew it was there for me to encounter.

When we delight in seeking God daily with all our hearts, we can find Him in various ways. Sometimes even in small books in large bookstores.

Some ways we encounter God also create additional paths for connecting with Him. I am now journeying devotionally through Object Lessons from Nature, and God continues to give me sweet signs of His presence as I do.

Seconds into reading Lesson 1 on “The Smaller Plants,” a small leaf from a tree in my side yard landed directly over my heart. I don’t typically see the leaves dropping there. On the day I started reading the chapter entitled “Leaves”—because of the gloomy, cool weather—my eyes were suddenly drawn to the many leaves on my fall-themed tablecloth. Even indoors, God connected objects from nature with His presence.

The ways I encounter God are refreshing and fun to my spirit. I enjoy seeing Him in every little detail. If we want to find Him, all we need to do is take the time to seek Him daily.

Think of some ways you can seek God in your daily walk.

A flagger once stopped me in a road construction zone. “Not again,” I muttered under my breath. “Why do I get stopped or detoured when running late?” Then I took a deep breath and detoured my thinking.

At nineteen, I worked as a flagger to put myself through college. Yes, I was one of them. Suddenly, like many things in life, I realized this was all a matter of perspective.

It’s easy to get resentful and wonder why things happen. Waves of frustration used to run through my veins when I was stopped by a flagger—back before I became one.

The truth is that detours and road construction signs symbolize the rebuilding of roads. Removing the worn, cracked pieces of asphalt and replacing them with smooth, uncracked highway surfaces makes our lives lovelier, although the process is often bumpy.

God uses the same process with our hearts. We all have places of despair and crustiness—chipped pieces that need remodeling. Sometimes, when life seems to be chipping away in chunks and cracking into pieces, our loving God is in the process of renewal, repair, and restoration.

Nowadays, I like to wave, smile, and bring flaggers cold drinks. I offer them gifts of gratitude. They are making the roads safe, smooth, and beautiful. We are blessed by new resurfacing.

Remember that sometimes, it’s easy to think of life’s detours and roadblocks as potholes. Instead, they are remarkable journeys to remodel and resurface the potholes of our hearts. 

I shall never forget the day my five-year-old granddaughter, Amara—buckled safely in our booster car seat—looked out the window on her side of my car and exclaimed, “Nana, look at that mountain. I know God lives right behind it.”

I was headed north, and Pikes Peak, America’s mountain, was in full view from Amara’s window, facing west.

Curious about my granddaughter’s thoughts, I asked, “Amara, why did you say that?”

Without hesitation, she replied, “Because the mountain is so pretty.”

This majestic mountain boasts brilliant beauty for locals and visitors alike. I am drawn to its beauty daily. I never tire of gazing at her splendor. Even a five-year-old can be pulled into this mountain’s beauty, so much so that her thoughts voyage to God, her Creator.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? In this one of the Songs of Ascent, the psalmist lifts his eyes to the mountains and simultaneously wonders where his help comes from. He undoubtedly comprehends that the unmovable structures are vast, solid, and robust when he concludes his help comes from the Lord.

The Bible is full of incredible promises of help from God for those who hope and trust in Him. Daily, He forgives our sins and cleanses us from all unrighteousness. He grants eternal life to us through the sacrifice of His son, Jesus. Further, His love is unconditional, and He never leaves or forsakes us.

Whatever hardships, tragedies, or sorrows we face, God will calm our fears and shine His light into our dark holes, comforting us as only He can.

My granddaughter proclaimed God’s beauty in our Pikes Peak Mountain, the mountain that stands out above all the others in the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Even at a young age, she associated her Creator with its splendor.

Some of us may not live close to the mountains, but we can lift our eyes to the Lord for help with all trials we may face. Remember from where your help with daily living comes. 

The beam from my flashlight cut through the inky black midnight darkness. A tree root hidden in shadow grabbed my foot and tried to trip me. For the fourth or fifth time, I wondered what the heck I was doing crawling out of my warm bed in the middle of the night to go outside and look at the sky.

Three days earlier, the sun, going through one of its cyclical tantrums, threw a significant solar flare straight at the earth. This would result, so said serious-looking scientists in their serious-sounding voices, in the Aurora Borealis—the Northern Lights—putting on a spectacular show. It might even be visible, they said, across the northern United States.

Now, Middle Tennessee, where I was currently tripping over tree roots in the dark, can hardly be considered part of the northern United States. All the handy charts and models showing the possible visibility of the Northern Lights left Tennessee out of the party ... way out. But this was a once-in-a-lifetime event, so they said, and I figured it couldn't hurt to take a look. 

It had sounded like a much better idea the night before when I was setting my alarm to wake me up at 0 dark thirty than it did at the moment.

Having had my eyes on my feet in the dark, I hadn't looked at the sky. As I worked my way out from under the hickory, oak, cedar, and black walnut trees that fill our yard, I turned off the flashlight and closed my eyes to reset my night vision. 

Opening my eyes, I turned to the north. My mouth dropped open in sheer astonishment. The night sky before me shimmered in a spectacular array of red and green. Amazingly, against all odds, the Northern Lights had arrived in Middle Tennessee. The sight so struck me that I actually felt like dropping to my knees. I whispered, "Thank You, Father."

The Lord reveals himself to us in many ways. Some are small and still, and some are just downright spectacular. This was definitely one of the spectacular ones. But the constant truth is we have to seek Him. Had I not forced myself out of bed, I might have missed God's amazing handiwork emblazoned across the sky.

Sometimes, seeking the Lord doesn't have to have a profound divine meaning or be a spiritual truth revealed, although those are wonderful when they happen. Occasionally, it is enough to simply gaze upon his amazing handiwork and say, "Thank you, Father."

Take some time to marvel over God's unique creation. 

I’ve been embarrassed at least twice in my life—both times when my parents and I were eating out with friends.

One time, I told a friend I would be glad to eat out with him for his birthday. I asked him if it would be okay if we ate at a fish place. He agreed. When the time came to order our food, he ordered a hamburger. I was embarrassed when he told me he didn’t like fish. I was glad the restaurant had something else he wanted.

The other time, I invited two of my friends out to eat for my birthday. We went to a taco restaurant. One of them told me it was my birthday, and I could eat wherever I wanted. I only chose the taco place because it was his favorite place to eat, but I’d eaten at one of the same restaurants before and found something I liked. This time, however, when we went, what I thought was the right thing was a taco shell with chicken and everything in it. My parents had to take me somewhere else after my friends finished eating.

But there is one place we won’t be embarrassed, and that’s when we see Jesus. We sure don’t want to be embarrassed then, whether at the judgment seat of Christ or the Great White Throne judgment.

Let’s avoid embarrassment. Let’s do as much as possible for the Lord because we love Him. And if you don’t know Christ, ask Him now to forgive you and start doing good works.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and mintchipdesigns.)

Pornography destroys trust and intimacy in a marriage.

I experienced the agony of betrayal in my marriage. Life as I had known it crashed down on me. I discovered my husband’s infidelity with his pornography/sex addiction in our marriage of thirty-one years. The person I loved and trusted the most in the world betrayed me.

I am not sure I have ever felt anything so brutal and painful. I felt an array of feelings: shock, isolation, shame, anger, fear, pain. It was as if I were alone in the wilderness—hopeless, frightened, and unsure of my direction. I was confused.

My mind spiraled all over the place. I felt as if I were going crazy. Being injured this way carries with it devastating consequences that cause profound spiritual, emotional, and physiological wounds that impacted me to the core.

The psalmist says God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. But I never thought I’d be where I am. I never imagined I could recover from this pain, nor did I ever think I could speak with clarity of what God has done in mine and my husband’s life. Yet through this trial, I developed an intimate relationship with Christ. I have seen God work miracles in my husband and in me, and our marriage has turned around.

I still have those trigger moments when I fall back to my old ways of rage, anger, and pain. I allow intrusive thoughts to hijack my mind and the lies to surface: I am not good enough; I am worthless.

The triggers are not as fast and furious and happen less as I realize my identity in Christ—I am loved, accepted, and complete in Jesus Christ. Through a renewed faith in God, the Holy Spirit began a healing journey in our marriage. We started trusting in God.

My husband and I have grown through this pain. We are now open with each other and put God first in our marriage. God has faithfully been with me every step of the way. Through this journey, I have taken to God’s Word daily, journaling any thoughts He gives me. His Word becomes alive and new every morning.

Don’t believe Satan’s lies when you are wounded. Let God heal your broken heart.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Vika_Glitter.)

Maps can be fascinating. They date back centuries and were vital for survival from the earliest times. And they are still necessary for travel and exploration by land, sea, air, and space. Although modern technologies provide maps on our personal devices, which is convenient, I still enjoy pouring over paper maps.

On our family vacation trips, I collected new maps at service stations along our travel route and poured over them for hours, spotting where we had been and plotting where we were going. Years later, I used my mapping skills in one of my first jobs to verify where our drivers transported products so I could pay for them.

Pirates dreamed of great wealth as they followed buried-treasure maps. The path of life can be mysterious, like searching for a pirate’s treasure, but the Bible tells us God will show us the path of life. He has it all plotted out. If we continue to obey Him, He will lead us forward. 

Geographically speaking, I’ve always had a pretty good sense of direction. When I remain in God’s presence and seek the right path for my life, I discover fullness of joy. I see how God works in amazing ways in the ups and downs to bring me to a better place. The map He’s developed for me is personalized, not mass-produced. No one else can follow its course, directions, or intricate roads with twists and turns. 

The joys and pleasures I’ve experienced are a gift from God—not only for the present time but for all time. In His right hand are pleasures forever more. 

Make sure you follow the road that leads to the joys God has for you.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and milivigerova.)

There it was again. A faint chirping-squeak had wormed its way into my consciousness. On a quiet Sunday afternoon, I was on the front porch of our Tennessee ridge-top home, in my favorite chair, reading from my Kindle. 

Did I say it was quiet? It was, exceptionally so. Even without adding any man-made noise, Mother Nature can be pretty distracting with her ambient sounds. Leaves rustling on the breeze, dogs barking, coyotes howling, mama cats calling their little ones to supper, one hundred songbirds all trying to entertain with their different melodies at the same time, red tail hawks calling to each other from high on the rising thermals, distant thunder, a handful of cows in the pasture across the valley below me mooing and lowing, and the pair of horses that shared their three acres of grazing land with the cows, nickering, and neighing in return. It could be quite the symphony.

However, it was as if Mother Nature had decided to take a break from her usual symphony. An unusual quiet and stillness, like the hush of a new snowfall, filled the air.

Except that is, for that increasingly annoying barely heard chirping squeak. I turned the Kindle over in my hands and then held it to my ear. I had never known it to make a noise before, but I suppose there was a first time for everything. However, the Kindle remained silent.

And then, just as my eyes had picked up reading where they had left off, I caught a flickering movement in my peripheral vision. Shimmering in the sun, a tiny hummingbird darted into the hanging feeder for its bounty of sugar water. Sometimes, with the larger hummingbirds, you hear the low thrum of its wings beating furiously against the air. But often, the smaller ones are simply silent. As was this one. It drank and then hovered silently for a second before returning for a second sip.

And then, in the extraordinary still and quiet of that afternoon, I heard it. The little hummingbird chirped. That was the noise I had listened to all along: a tiny hummingbird's equally tiny chirp. It was only in the soundless hush that I could hear it. And it was amazing.

The Word tells me that hearing God's voice is like that. I must quiet all the irreverent and random noise in my head and heart to discern my Lord speaking to me. I don't do it as well as I should, but I'm trying. Maybe that's what the hummingbird wanted to tell me: to keep trying.

Make sure your world is quiet enough to hear God's voice.

When my kids were young, I volunteered at their school, reading books aloud. I’m not a talented storyteller and could not do different voices for different characters. But I did show up faithfully and genuinely loved the kids.

One day I was in a local store when I saw one of the students. She caught my attention because she was fangirling, tugging on her mom to point me out. Her mother, of course, did not recognize me. It took a minute for her to decipher her daughter’s gushing praise and figure out who I was: a celebrity at her school.

This simple encounter underscored the importance of faithfulness. We underestimate its impact. We don’t have to be brilliantly talented to make a difference. The smallest acts, done with consistency and kindness, can make us a big deal to somebody. There’s only room for a limited number of traditional celebrities, but we can all be one by the above definition.

Don’t feel as if your small contributions make no difference. Think about whose life you can impact.  

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and zgl19931111.)

One morning our mailbox contained a costly cream-colored silky envelope addressed in elegant calligraphy.  

I ripped open the large envelope and pulled out a smaller one inscribed with our first names only. Inside was a thin sheet of lacey paper overlaying an embossed information card with golden swirls around the edges. A friend’s daughter was getting married and had invited my husband and me.

My eyes scanned the details. Suggested attire: black tie. I sighed and started calculating what we must buy. Let’s see—tux, tie, shirt, and dress shoes for my husband, and evening gown, fancy shoes, jewelry, and something to hide the tummy for me.

And oh … the gift registry. Our attendance at this large, formal wedding came at a high price. Arriving simply dressed and empty-handed would be an insult to the hosts and out of the question.

But the greatest wedding feast of all time is yet to come, and we must prepare for it too. When Jesus appears and calls believers to Himself, there will be unending celebration and joy for all who have placed their faith in Him. But like any wedding, we need an invitation, something to wear, and a gift.

The good news is this: anyone who believes in the finished work of Jesus on the cross is invited into heaven and to the feast. The verse from Isaiah the prophet answers the question about what we need to wear.

Jesus provides the only acceptable attire—the robe of righteousness. He took our sins upon Himself on the cross and in exchange, gave us His robe of righteousness. That robe, purchased by His blood, is the most expensive garment ever.

And what gift is acceptable at the heavenly wedding? Only our faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection on our behalf.

Have you taken seriously the Lord’s invitation to spend eternity with Him? It’s open to all who receive Jesus as their Savior. Don’t delay. Consider your invitation today.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and StockSnap.)

My husband didn't want his blue-canvas boat shoes to get wet, so while he walked along the dry sand, I sloshed through the foamy beach water in South Daytona Beach, Florida.

Several storms in the Atlantic caused the waves to crash in, one after the other. Along the way, I'd stop, watch their fury, and think back to those days of my youth—growing up near Savannah and body surfing with my friends at Tybee Beach. Sometimes I'd stop to watch the birds running away from the incoming tide, then back again as it ebbed to sea. Other times, I stopped to speak to others who enjoyed the day—the sun and the surf—as much as I did.

But each time I stopped on this day, I glanced over my shoulder to see that my husband had also stopped, stood several yards away, and watched me. Later that day, I mentioned to him that I'd noticed this and that, to my way of seeing it, those stops were his way of saying "I love you" because they showed he would never leave me to stand alone.

"Absolutely," he said. "Very much so."

How like God's Holy Spirit, I mused later. Always there. Always watching. Always protecting. He doesn't hover like a pest, but rather, He remains steadfast and faithful to His nature. Guiding. Safeguarding. Loving. All we must do is stop long enough and look over our shoulder to see.

Too often, we are unaware (or perhaps forget) that God is with us. And yet He is. Always. Don’t ever forget.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and ELG21.)

Moving day. The very thought causes my body to tense and my mind to go into panic mode.

When my husband and I got married, we moved into our first home three days after our honeymoon with only a bed, TV snack tables, a couple of bean-bag chairs, and all our wedding gifts.

Fast-forward twelve years. We sold almost all our furniture (yes, by now the house was full) and moved from Florida to South Carolina with our few belongings and our two kids. We lived in one large upstairs room in my grandparents’ home while building a house, which we have now been in for almost forty years.

That’s the extent of my moving experience, unlike my friend Carol Stratton, who wrote a book called Changing Zip Codes: Finding Community Wherever You’re Transplanted. After moving over twenty-plus times, she became somewhat of an expert. Her book is filled with tips on making the transition easier to manage. How I admire her.

One of these days—hopefully soon—we will move from our location to a much smaller home. I love the idea, but the process of getting rid of all our junk and the actual packing and moving process seems overwhelming.

But there is one moving day I don’t need to dread—the day I transition from this earthly life to my heavenly one. There will be no sorting, packing, or cleaning. No decisions about what to take or leave behind. And no confusion about where to live because Jesus promised to prepare a place just for me. In the blink of an eye, I’ll simply change my zip code to my forever home.

Are you ready for moving day?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Tumisu.)

My stomach roiled. An uncontrollable retch erupted, and the dry heaves had me again.

Had I not already been on my knees, the retching would have driven me there. I was on the floor of our sparkling new, renovated bathroom, surrounded by smeared feces. The smell of the pine cleaner, ammonia, and chlorine weren’t enough to cover the smell. And they did nothing for the sight, the awful sight, of the condition of our new bathroom.

My poor ninety-three-year-old father-in-law was having a bad day. Physically healthy for his age, Father Kirby had Alzheimer’s. And like most semi-advanced Alzheimer’s patients, he had an episode of incontinence every once in a while. Like today. And this one was a doozy.

Evidently, he had realized his uh-oh and gone to the bathroom to try and clean up. But unfortunately, he only succeeded in smearing it virtually everywhere. Eventually, he must have forgotten what he was doing and wandered out of the bathroom. I discovered him a few minutes later, or rather my nostrils did, and I promptly hustled him into a hot bath. But that still left the bathroom to clean.

So here I was, on my knees, scrubbing the bathroom. Between violent retches, I asked God for help. I thought maybe he would close my nostrils or still my stomach to help me get through this, but instead, something else happened. He showed me sin. In a sudden revelation, I realized this was how sin looked to God. All sin, from harmless white lies to mass murder, carries this awful, terrible stench to God.

I had never thought about sin like this. Of course, I knew my past and continuing sins, but they were always sort of an abstract concept. Here was sin as God saw it, up close and personal … and awful. And as I pondered this, I noticed a few minutes later that I had finished cleaning the bathroom without realizing it.

My life has been a series of lessons, some harder than others.

Thank You, Father, for using this opportunity to teach me and for Your revelation. But it would certainly be okay if we didn’t have to repeat this one.

Do you see sin as God does?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay.)

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Not again! I was furious with my rambunctious three-year-old. He bounced a ball in the living room, and this time it hit my new lamp. I grabbed his arm and raised my voice in frustration and anger. He was terrified; I was mortified.

This was not how I’d envisioned myself as a mother. Short-fused, loud, angry. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I control my anger? The still, small voice of God’s Spirit said, Tell him you’re sorry. Ask for his forgiveness. Tell him you love him. To a three-year-old? The Spirit nudged again. That day, I began confessing and seeking forgiveness from my children. A practice I’d not seen while growing up but something I felt was essential to my heavenly Father.

Soon after, my morning time with God focused on a Bible study about anger. Daily, I searched a concordance and copied verses that mentioned anger. The day I read James 1:19 slowed my reading. I was far removed from reacting as he instructs. Quick to listen? Slow to speak? Slow to get angry? Not this mommy.   

Thus began a lifelong journey to listen first, speak later, and release anger. I copied James 1:19 onto a three-by-five card and posted it on my bathroom mirror. I tucked another card into my Bible. I memorized and prayed the verse often.

One day, I noticed it was my first thought when my temper flared. Now I had a choice: listen, speak, or get angry.

It has been decades since I humbled myself before a tender-hearted little boy and sought forgiveness for angry outbursts. But that practice, undergirded with James’ wisdom, has made all the difference as God faithfully transformed my mind and heart.

Think of something you can do to help remember God’s instructions or promises. Why not try a three-by-five card?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and jupilu.)

When I was a young girl, I was fascinated by my favorite book, Seven Wonders of the World. My father and grandmother took me to Sunday school, where I wondered about our faith. My late dad always taught me to battle on—that faith was also a wonder of the world.

The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me? To me, the psalmist’s words mean that whenever I wander from God in my life’s path, I can always choose faith. In some of my experiences, daily life presented challenges. But somehow, I always kept a Bible handy and chose faith to see me through.  

Some days challenge us to follow our star, Jesus Christ. But Jesus never leaves our side. He prayed that He and His followers could battle injustice, as we all can today. We can aim to avoid conflict and keep our lips zipped.

On other occasions, we should speak up in society and contribute to people in need in any way we can. We can share our support for each other in our churches and the world. Life is too short to be negative. We can pray to be positive influences.

As believers we can keep choosing faith. Today, yesterday, and tomorrow, we can choose faith. 

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and thiagosnot23.)

A close loved one has been estranged from my family for over ten years now, with no desire for communication or reconciliation. To this day, it is difficult to understand the reason for his departure. Our family feels his absence daily, and it causes great pain in our hearts. We love him unconditionally and miss him dearly. As the years pass without restoration of the relationship, we find it difficult to maintain sustained hope that reconciliation and healing will ever occur.

But amid such doubts, Paul’s words encourage me. He reminds us that as we trust in God, He will fill us with joy, peace, and hope through the power of the Holy Spirit. Through God, I have sustained hope.

As a reminder of this hope, I keep the last gift my estranged loved one gave me pinned to a wall in my house: a necklace woven with braids of yellow, red, and orange thread with a crystal heart medallion at the end. As I see it daily, it reminds me to pray for my lost loved one.

Over the years, the colors in the necklace have faded and the yarn has frayed, but much like my hope, the necklace remains. Seeing it reminds me of my love for my estranged loved one and the hope that he will one day return.

As I pray for my loved one and those affected by his absence, I thank God that He is working all things for good. I am filled with hope as I trust in Him.

No matter how difficult things are, look to God for sustained hope.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Pexels.)

As of November 2023, there are over 53,000 different identified species of spiders running around this big blue planet we call home. There are, on average, over a million spiders in a single acre of land. In fact, we are almost certainly less than ten feet from a spider right this minute. However, for all their fantastic numbers, 99.9 percent of spiders are absolutely harmless to humans. And even those very few that are dangerous may not necessarily harm us if they bite.

Spiders can control the amount of venom they inject, so we don’t necessarily stand to get a total dose of poison with every spider bite. It takes them a substantial amount of time to produce a whole load of venom, and they don’t deplete it if they don’t utterly need to. When we encounter a spider, they nearly always just want us to go away and forget we have ever seen them. We will never know they are there unless we happen to roll over on one in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, this is precisely what I managed to do recently.

I woke up feeling vaguely flu-like and with a painful, angry-looking, walnut-sized boil on my lower stomach. Prayer and my dear wife’s substantial first-aid skills had the boil essentially gone in forty-eight hours. I slept a lot for a day and then was back on my feet.

What I found most interesting about all this was that I had been reading through the book of Job and about the boils that covered his body from “the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.” Now, I had dealt with acne as a teenager, but this glowering and wrathful boil was light-years beyond simple acne. I could not imagine being engulfed in them as Job was. One was painful enough. It brought to life the unimaginable suffering of Job, not just in his body at this point, but the previous loss of his children, servants, flocks, and property. And it vividly illuminated Job’s patience and love of God.

It was interesting to have the words of the Bible come to life as they did, even if it was painful. I admit that far too often, as I do my daily Bible reading, the words of our Lord slip by my eyes without ever penetrating my heart. Occasionally, my eyes simply surf through the verses and chapters, sometimes even skipping ahead to see how much more I have to read.

Forgive me, Father, I must do better. It is up to me to take the life in your Word and sow it where it will grow.

Ask yourself what you can do to better plant the Word of our Lord in your heart.

Years of rich fellowship in college Bible studies and group gatherings left me unprepared for the different environment of a small local church. Would they follow Jesus’ command to love one another?

Instead of college-age students, I sat among people ranging from a newborn baby to a ninety-two-year-old widow. Rather than listening to a charismatic, enthusiastic speaker, I heard a message that felt barely adequate. Even the music seemed odd and out of date rather than upbeat. I dearly missed the enthusiasm and joy found in my college friends.

My husband and I attempted to reset our expectations for the local church, but it was a slow process. Dutifully, we attended Sunday services out of habit and obedience but were more disillusioned each week.

My husband’s job in the high school eventually led to relationships with teenagers and a Bible study in our home. We were refreshed and encouraged by their openness to explore a relationship with Jesus Christ. Our church opened its doors to the teens when the Bible study outgrew our tiny house.

Every Thursday, a small crew of faithful saints prepared 6:30 a.m. breakfasts for scores of high schoolers. No questions asked. No suggestions given. The church we found lacking loved and supported us as teenagers showed up week after week. Those dear volunteers were thrilled to minister. And we discovered new eyes to appreciate our local church.

God provided people who modeled love like we’d not expected. The love of Jesus in their hearts was freely passed on to a hungry roomful of teens. Many years later, we would continually learn of a long-lasting impact on the lives touched during those years.

Connecting with a local body of believers can be challenging. I get it. In the current culture, it’s far too easy to abandon the practice of going to church. But don’t give up. Find a group of believers who faithfully love one another. You, too, will find yourself soaking up the generous love of saints.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and pexels.)

It was a beautiful morning for a walk. Dew clung to the wildflowers lining the rock path, and pine trees towered into the mist. A fog hung over the lake, keeping me from seeing to the other side. But instead of feeling invigorated by the cool morning before the heat of the July day, my feet felt like lead. My whole body was weighed down like a backpack filled with rocks. I couldn’t see through the fog.

As I walked, I unpacked the rocks I had collected and carried over the past week—worries about a child’s struggles in a friendship, financial concerns, a new business, and my health. One by one, I brought them to the Lord.

“Lord, I have been carrying this burden, and it is weighing me down. Yet I know that I can’t control it. I can’t bring the outcome for which I hope. Help me remember, Jesus, that You are with me. I give You this concern.”

Peter implores us to cast all our anxiety on the Lord because He cares. But why is that sometimes so difficult? The verse preceding it may hold the key. Peter tells us to humble ourselves.

As much as I hated to admit it, my anxiety revealed pride. Believing I could and should be able to fix the problems I saw. Was I depending on the Lord and recognizing that His sovereignty and wisdom far surpassed mine?

No great epiphany came that revealed a clear path out of any of the situations I faced. The way was still as hidden as the path before me lay shrouded in the fog. But I felt lighter. I had released my cares to the Lord, who cares for me and knows best.

What cares have you been shouldering? Give them to the Lord, even when you cannot see the path ahead.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Peggychoucair.)

(For more devotions, visit Christian Devotions.)

Though her family dearly loved Grandmother Smith, they realized she simply would not tolerate any inquiries about her age. In short, it was a forbidden subject at all family gatherings. However, one time, a gathering included some family members who were infrequent attendees and unaware of the taboo subject.

“This is Grandmother. She’s your great-grandmother,” one mother said, introducing four-year-old Kathy. The last time we saw her, you were just a baby.” Kathy’s eyes grew wide as she absorbed the information.

“She’s shy sometimes, but she’s usually very curious,” the mother said to Grandmother.

Kathy continued to regard Grandmother, but finally, curiosity won out, and she asked, “How old are you?"

Recognizing childish curiosity but maintaining her dignity, Grandmother replied, "I'm 39 and holding."

Before Kathy’s mother could intercede, Kathy spoke again. "How old would you be if you let go?"

While this was a question for Grandmother to consider, it's also something I can ask myself—particularly when I need to let go of the worries and anxieties on my spiritual journey so I can cope with adversity. 

This is an ongoing problem—one that is futile for me to worry over. I could easily trust God to handle everything and then rely on Him to provide me with reassurance that would give me confidence. After all, He knows what I’m dealing with and has perfectly planned solutions for me.

Ultimately, we all need to let go of our worries and anxieties and let God sweep in with the encouragement and faith that enables us to deal with the problem. Then we can resume our spiritual journey with a new purpose.

Think of some things you are holding on to that you need to let go of.  

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Pumpernickel, the cat, has been with us for almost a year and a half now. She is nearly sixteen months old and has finally moved out of her kitten stage and into the early stages of the cat she will become.

She knows I keep a container of kitty treats on my desk, and every so often during the day, she will lightly jump up on my desk to ask for a snack. It is amazing how cats seem to defy gravity when they set their sights on a destination above, sometimes way above, their heads.

And so it was one day that Pumpernickel—that sweet, loving, intelligent cat—did one of her floating jumps up to my desktop, landing lightly beside my keyboard. She settled patiently on her haunches and fixed me with that “Papa, may I have a treat, please?” stare.

I was reading off my computer monitor at that moment. So, without taking my eyes off the screen, I absent-mindedly reached over to the kitty-treat container, snapped open the top, and fished out a treat. Sliding the little snack into the palm of my hand, as I always did, and while still reading off the computer, I held out my hand to my precious little Pumpernickel. Whereupon said precious Pumpernickel happily emptied the contents of her stomach into my hand.

Fortunately, it wasn’t much. And equally fortuitous, I have a relatively low gag reflex. Still, it was touch-and-go there with my own stomach for a minute.

Pumpernickel looked at what she had done and then at me with those big green eyes that distinctly said, “Oops, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” With a long-suffering sigh, I cleaned and washed my hand, stroked her for a minute to tell her it was okay, and fished out another treat.

The Word tells us after our Lord freed the Israelites from Egyptian bondage, even as they basked in the glow of their new freedom, they wasted no time diving into ugly, ungrateful disobedience. Ten times we are told, before they even got a good start toward the Promised Land, they revolted. Accounts of ungrateful disobedience to our Lord fill the Bible from beginning to end, from Adam and Eve to Revelation.

Then there are my personal “Oops” moments in my walk with the Lord. Those things that only He and I know about that must smell like vomit to Him. And yet He forgives me.

How incredibly deep and everlasting must our Lord’s love be to still call us His children after all that? Thank you, Father, for your incredible love and forgiveness.

Take some time daily to thank your heavenly Father for every good and perfect gift.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and TeamK.)

We had gotten through nearly thirty years of marriage without running out of gas. Then it happened.

We had our ten-month-old twin grandbabies in the back seat and decided to drive up the canyon to walk in Estes Park. Noticing my tank said, “low fuel,” my husband stopped at the gas station. Unfortunately, all the gas pumps said, out of gas. I tried to remember when the low fuel warning appeared. Did we have enough gas to make it up the mountain? Since I drive a hybrid, maybe that would help.

Halfway up the canyon, we heard a strange sputtering sound from the car. Luckily, we were next to a fly-fishing parking area and quickly pulled over. Two other vehicles were parked there, and a man with two teenagers stood by the river’s edge. He was visiting from out of state. In fact, he was from the very town where Chad and I grew up.

While he drove Chad to get gas, I waited with the twins, thankful they were sleeping. The sky grew darker quickly, and the other car left the parking lot. I wondered how long it would be before Chad returned. I checked the locks on the doors. One of the twins woke up, and I climbed into the backseat to give her a bottle. As I did, the setting sun cast a rose gold shaft of light on the canyon wall, illuminating violet lupines. The creeping anxiety about being stranded was suddenly replaced by wonder at the beauty surrounding me.

How many times during our marriage had we gotten ourselves into one mess or another and seen God graciously provide exactly what we needed?

God provided for the children of Israel as they wandered in the desert—manna, water, and shoes that did not wear out. God provided a ram in the thicket when Abraham prepared to sacrifice his son. Later, God gave His own Son as the provision for our need for a Savior. And Jesus promised that if God cares for the birds and flowers, He will surely care for us.

Can you remember a time when God provided exactly what you needed, regardless of the predicament you were in? Learn to rejoice in the Lord’s provision.

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I wanted to pick up the phone and call Dad, but the reality of his absence slapped me in the face. That was a hard day for me. The day reality set in.

March 6 comes and goes every year. Sometimes it’s a melancholy day, and at other times I have a moment of tears and then move on. But the day never passes without me remembering Dad. Either way, the day is etched deeply in my heart. That was the day the nurse said, “Sometimes the family just has to tell their loved one it’s okay to move on.”

Her words stung, and although I knew the hospital would never allow me to ask for too much medication to ease Dad’s distress, I asked for the maximum dose. The words grabbed at my throat, but his breathing was so labored, and our family realized Dad was hanging on for us. I wasn’t sure we had the strength to let go.

The psalmist lamented his reminder that God was the full source of his strength, an ever-present help. This promise was laid out for the taking and reinforces that our Father never leaves us. He is always right by our side—a whisper away.

Losing Dad in the early hours of March 6 is still raw. Dad was my strength. I wanted to call him the day I bought a new car or when one of his grandsons did something amazing. The cheerleader, the guide for me when trouble hit, had left us. In a breath, he was gone.

As I look back, I can see the tall, lanky man who instilled determination and a good work ethic in me. He’d walked away from God for years, but when he returned to Him, he proved that God was his strength and strong tower, and he continually showed that through the remaining years of his life. Dad truly found God, and though his loss was devastating, his new life was astounding.

I am grateful for a good earthly father who, even in times of trouble, found his way into the arms of the Savior. But I am even more grateful for my Father above. On this Father’s Day, look to the One who is your strength—the One who is your ever-present help—and rejoice in that love.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and skalekar1992.)

“Daddy, cut it off!”

I choked back tears, not just from pain but fear. Although I should have known better at nine years old, I had put a chain bracelet around my ankle and rolled it up so far onto my calf that I couldn’t roll it back down. It wouldn’t budge. Every minute that ticked by increased my agony. My father frowned as he tried to figure out how to cut it off without injuring me. I couldn’t fathom how my father could get the chain off, but I knew he would. My father could do anything.

We can have the same assurance when we approach God in our bondage. He is the chain-breaker and bondage freer. When we cry out to God, our heavenly Father, to cut sinful chains that ensnare us, we hope it won’t be painful.

Although Jesus took our sin in His body on the cross, we often feel the pain of the chains being cut. Maybe it’s unhealthy relationships, addictive habits, or even a job we shouldn’t be working. In cutting the chains, we are freed to a new life, where Jesus walks with us as we grow healthy spiritually. A life that can be a blessing to others around us.

Choosing between the pain of bondage or the fear of stepping out into the light can take courage and more faith than we sometimes feel we have. But if we want freedom in our Christian walk, we must yield to God’s solution to be released from darkness.

My earthly father cut my chain and comforted me in my pain. We can expect the same from our heavenly Father. He will save us; we must only ask.

Ask God to help you with whatever you are struggling with today so you can experience spiritual freedom as you’ve never had before.

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For some time, I traveled to Minnesota over Christmas to see family. I usually rented a car and drove. But in 2022, a snowstorm with blizzard-like conditions was forecasted to hit every part of my route to Minnesota from Belleville, Illinois.

I was so ashamed that I let my emotions get the best of me. I knew about the possibility of the storm a week before my departure. Nonetheless, I did not trust in the Lord. I got a plane ticket for my trip to Minneapolis at the last minute. This, in itself, was difficult because everyone wanted to travel because COVID-19 had canceled travel plans over the previous few years. 

I realized how much the Lord guided me when the airline canceled my flight home. In fact, the airline experienced mass cancellations. However, the Lord came through and made a way for me again. For only thirty-seven dollars, I extended my rental car for one day and drove home to Illinois. 

I also remember when the Lord provided for me another time when I worked from Saturday night to Sunday morning. My church had a Saturday night service, so I could always attend church before I went to work.

We should trust the Lord in all things, small and large. Our understanding may not always be correct, but He will provide.

Think of some things that will help you trust the Lord.

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There had been the usual spring indications of potential severe weather here in Middle Tennessee from the usual places.

The National Weather Service, Accuweather, The Weather Channel, and, of course, the local TV network weather teams, with their clever catchphrases, had all issued alarming weather warnings for a couple of days. But this wasn’t unusual.

Every spring, severe weather aims for the greater Tennessee River Valley. From the Ohio River to the Gulf of Mexico, gigantic thunderstorms called supercells grow towering into the atmosphere, nearly touching the thermosphere at 75,000 feet. Underneath these behemoths, tornadoes occasionally spawn like twirling malignant devils.

And so it was last week when a supercell aimed at us here in Maury County, Tennessee, south of Nashville. It wasn’t our first rodeo. As I mentioned, nearly every spring brings one or two days when the warnings sound, and we batten down the hatches. As the storms crossed the Mississippi River to our southwest, I gave them my usual casual attention on this day.

I switched to our local weather as the storms drew closer because they had better local radar. One supercell to the southwest caught my attention. At one point, they showed the long-term track of this storm. I paused the TV and laid a ruler along the track to see where it was heading. The future track passed right over our house. But I wasn’t really worried. The Word tells us that fear and worry are the opposite of faith. Still, I kicked my boat shoes off, reached for socks, and slipped on my hiking boots. Better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them on.

 As it turned out, this supercell produced an F3 tornado that touched down a few thousand feet just to our west and moved northeast across our front. Almost as soon as it hit, the power went out and stayed out for two days. My grandson, wife, and I watched the howling monster from our ridge-top front porch as it passed a mile to the north.

The tornado damaged or destroyed over two hundred homes, including the home of the mother of our next-door neighbor, who lived on the next ridge to the north. She was fine, but her home was destroyed. Across the street from her, another homeowner was killed when the 175-mile-per-hour winds pulled their house apart. That home simply disappeared.

My son and daughter-in-law live a few miles east, and their home was near the end of the tornado’s track. As the twirling winds died, all manner of debris from the life of the storm dropped onto their three acres of property.

Despite the violence and destruction of the storm and the fury of the fifteen minutes of the tornado’s passing, this is a story of peace. God’s peace. At no time did I feel we were in any danger. Despite the storm’s potential track, both my wife and I felt a sense of calm. Yes, we prayed, but more than prayer, we simply rested in God’s peace. And yes, I did trade my boat shoes for hiking boots, but that was more because I was a Boy Scout than anything else. “Be Prepared” is one of the greatest lessons the Scouts taught me.

The tornado missed us by a whisker. We were fortunate and blessed. But beyond that, we had a chance to experience the absolute wonder of God’s sweet calm and peace in the middle of chaos. We rested in His love, and all was well.

When the world’s storms threaten to sweep over you, find and rest in the quiet oasis of God’s love.

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“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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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. 

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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.

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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?

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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.”

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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.

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I admit to not taking my days seriously. What did I accomplish yesterday that was meaningful?

My efforts felt like wind flowing through my fingertips. All morning, I tried to find important papers, but they were nowhere to be found. I constantly try to juggle needs at work and home without success. On top of that, the tomatoes in my garden were growing out of my ears.

I opened my Bible to Ecclesiastes and found myself in this odd book attributed to King Solomon. It reads like the work of a grumpy old man bemoaning his life. “Meaningless, meaningless. Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless . . . a chasing after the wind.” Some translations use the word vanity instead of meaningless. Vanity insinuates that the chasing was for Solomon’s own gain, but he found it pointless.

Day in and day out, the mundane occurrences in my life sometimes do seem meaningless. Yet God knows how many hairs are on my head. He saw me in the womb before I was born. He bottles my tears. Perhaps everything is meaningful. What if all of life does have purpose and meaning, even the most mundane?

Maybe it is the chasing that is meaningless. The world will not end if I don’t find the papers, keep the house, or use all the tomatoes.

Stop and take a deep breath. Breathe in the Spirit of our Creator, who created us for meaning. Stop chasing and just be present. This is difficult because the craziness of life doesn’t end. Enjoy the beauty of the sunrise. Revel in the laugh of a child. Embrace the ones you love. Meaning is in every moment, but we don’t have to attach meaning to insignificant things.

Look for the meaningfulness in every moment.

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Our one-hour morning flight from Baltimore/Washington International Airport to Atlanta was supposed to be an uneventful one. Until it wasn’t.

En route to Minneapolis for a family wedding, we planned to be at our destination in plenty of time to make the rehearsal that evening. Unbeknownst to us, five tornadoes threatened to hit the area just as the pilot prepared to descend. He cautioned us to remain in our seats and fasten our seatbelts.

We encountered some turbulence. Cries of fear filled the air as the plane lurched from side to side, then up and down like a giant rollercoaster. With joined hands, we prayed out loud, asking God for protection. Thirty minutes felt like hours as the pilot battled with the wind and lost. Diverted to Knoxville, Tennessee, we remained on the tarmac for three hours until the storm passed. Relieved, we arrived safe and sound in Minneapolis in the dead of night.

I’m reminded of another tumultuous storm that occurred. Jesus directed His disciples to get into the boat and proceed to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. They left, but a fierce windstorm blew in unannounced. Raging waves crashed against the boat, filling it with water. Frightened, the disciples woke Jesus, believing they were going to drown. He rebuked the wind, and it stopped.

Sometimes, storms blow into our lives without warning and cause us to fear as the disciples did. We focus on the storm instead of Jesus. We forget who is in the boat with us. Jesus is with us in the storm of a distressing health diagnosis, financial woe, or relational strife. If Jesus allows us to encounter a storm, He will take us through it to the other side. The storm is not our destination.

Jesus knows where we’re headed even when we can’t see it because of the storm. He hears our cries and calms our storms.

What are some ways you can trust Jesus when you are in a storm? Remember, Jesus is bigger than the scary waves.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and confused_me.)

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One Saturday morning, I awakened to birds chirping outside my home.

This was not unusual. My feathered friends seem to enjoy the trees in our backyard, some even building nests in the roof’s eaves. But the chirping continued as I prepared breakfast, so I walked out on the back deck to investigate. To my surprise, two robins hung upside down at the corner of the house. They were hopelessly entangled in some string with which they had tried to build a nest. To make matters worse, they’d been pecking at each other and were streaked with blood.

Frantic, I ran to get my husband. He gently wrapped one large, rough hand around the two birds and cut the string that attached them to the roof. They pecked freely away at his hand as he attempted to free them from each other. He kept going and used tiny surgical scissors to snip the strands that bound them together. Within minutes, it was over. He opened his big, bird-pecked hand and freed the robins.

I couldn’t help but see this as an example of God’s love. As sinners, our own ways hopelessly ensnared us, but God sent His son to be the propitiation (atonement) for our sins.

After stumbling through Leviticus on my way through the Old Testament last year, I’m even more grateful we do not have to prepare our own blood atonement (animal sacrifice) for God. I love animals. I couldn’t even stand to watch two birds in a fix.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if my husband hadn’t untangled the birds from their entrapment. They were helpless, but their attempts to work themselves out of a bad situation failed.

Like them, we are hopelessly entangled in our sin, with no way to free ourselves from the penalty of it. It took someone sinless to pay for our sins. Jesus paid it all. He gave His life to set us free.

How can you thank God for untangling you from your sins?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and HeungSoon.)

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The breeze freshened suddenly, and the leaves I raked exploded into a whirlwind of orange and yellow. I straightened up and glanced to the west. From my Tennessee ridgetop, I saw a dark band of clouds creeping over the western horizon.

Except for an unusually red sunrise, it had been a delightful day. (Yes, I know the old jingle: Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning; Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. And that’s great for sailors, but there isn’t an ocean within four hundred miles of here.) The weather had invited a day of much-needed yard work. A bonfire took care of downed limbs and the leaves I raked.

Another swirling breeze swept over the bonfire. This time, glowing embers flared to life and alarmingly set sail on the sudden gust. I looked back to the west only to find the dark band of clouds had quickly climbed further into the sky. It was time to kill the fire. Tamping down the flame and burying it under a couple of shovelfuls of dirt left it inert and harmless.

Again, I eyed the glowering clouds racing toward me out of the west. I figured I had enough time to hike down our 1700-foot driveway to our mailbox where the mail waited. I reached inside the front door for my umbrella and came up empty. Obviously, I had left it somewhere or misplaced it, and because I hadn’t been diligent about keeping up with it, it wasn’t where it should have been when I needed it.

You can probably anticipate the rest of the story. I got down to the mailbox, retrieved the mail, and got halfway back up the driveway ... before the heavens opened and raindrops as heavy as pebbles soaked me to the skin. It didn’t do the mail much good either.

I’ve had similar sudden storms while navigating my Christian walk. Fortunately, my loving Father provided an umbrella. The Word of God is my shield against the figurative deluges and blizzards that threaten to overwhelm me.

Unlike an umbrella that shields my head, the Word provides a shield for my heart. I must constantly renew my heart and thoughts through His Word for my shield to be there. The Bible does me no good unless I open it and constantly renew my heart and thoughts with the wisdom inside.

But far too often, I’ve neglected that renewing. I’ve let indifference prevail over planting the Word in my heart, so  when the storms come and I reach for my spiritual umbrella, I find I’ve misplaced it.

A storm is coming for all of us. Even now, the western horizon grows dark with ominous clouds. Know where your spiritual umbrella is and be ready to open it.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and 12138562O.)

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“Forget everything you ever learned about writing, mate.” My Aussie friend winked.

As a missionary, I had one assignment that led me and my family to Australia. We enjoyed associating with the nationals and made lifelong friends. But as I began writing for Aussie audiences, I learned their communication differed from American English. I struggled to give up the rules of writing I’d learned back home.

Words that meant one thing to me meant another to the folks who lived Down Under. I even made a few faux pas by accidentally using Aussie profanity.

Over the months, my writing evolved as I adjusted my language to fit in with my surroundings. It was against my nature, but as I assimilated, people accepted me, and my influence grew.

Much like missionary Hudson Taylor, who labored in China in the 1800s, I found it easier to share the gospel with Aussies when I wrote, spoke, and dressed like them.

Paul, the apostle, also said he would be anything if it could point even a few to Christ.

When we finally returned to the States, I required several months to revert to using American spelling and dialect again. But it was inevitable. Surrounded by Americans, I couldn’t help but abandon my Australian mannerisms. Even my young children lost their Aussie accents after a while.

As believers, we struggle to reach others for Christ. Sometimes it means doing things we usually wouldn’t do to befriend the lost—as long as our testimony is not compromised. It’s much easier to stay in our Christian bubble.

Jesus also hung out with people who were quite different from him. Why shouldn’t we do the same? When we leave our comfort zone and learn to be approachable to everyone everywhere, we find ourselves reaching everyone everywhere.

Being counter-cultural is often needed for people to see we are different from the world. Still, we must have a passionate burden for the lost to become whoever Christ needs us to be to win them.

What are some ways you can assimilate with others?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and JRAQUILES.)

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Two out of my five brothers had a horrendous and prolonged quarrel. They did not see eye to eye. Not even my mother could settle this before she died.

Then, weeks after my mother’s burial, my father did something that shocked me. Early one morning, he went to the house of the younger of the two brothers, knelt before him and his wife, and asked them to forgive the elder brother.

Seeing this act shattered my brother and his wife. They broke down in tears and immediately went to the elder one’s home, forgave him, and made peace.

Paul tells us to get along with each other. The reason we can forgive is because God has forgiven us.

Thinking we do not need forgiveness is terrible. Instead, we should remember that God forgave us first. The Bible makes this clear.

Quarrels, malice, pain, frustrations, and troublesome thoughts can keep us from forgiving family members, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and church members who have grievously wronged or hurt us. We must let go and get along, remembering that our heavenly Father has forgiven us of our shortcomings.

Who has wronged you that you need to forgive?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Alexas_Fotos.)

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“I smell a stunk.”

We laughed at our four-year-old granddaughter Brynn’s wrinkled nose as our vehicle filled with a strong odor. She coined the word as an appropriate name for the black-and-white critter and, subsequently, we called it that. I suppose the skunk won’t mind. It is a name, after all, that gives him a certain distinkshun among the animal kingdom. (Yes, I know that’s misspelled.)

I have always longed for a new name. Mine is the name of the housekeeper or old maiden aunt in fiction, not a glamorous heroine. Imagine my delight when I read how God gives us a new name in heaven. I have wondered what mine might be. Will it reflect the calling of God on my life in its different seasons? Daughter, wife, mother. Biblical people often had name changes when God appointed them to a specific service. That’s a scary thought.

Jesus’ disciples rejoiced after returning from their appointed mission, exclaiming how even the demons were subject to them. Jesus, however, directed them to the most crucial cause for rejoicing. Not just their authority over sickness, disease, and evil spirits but their eternal privilege to sit with Him in heaven.

I think back to when I chose to follow Jesus as my Lord. Since that day many years ago, I have probably deserved to be called a stunk at times. How wonderful to know that, unlike that little critter, I will not be known by that name for the rest of eternity.

I can rejoice instead because Jesus knows my name, which God has written in heaven. How about yours?

What does your name say to others?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and LeniG.)

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There were six of the tiny leafy green things, looking more like someone had dropped green paint on the potted soil than actual living plants. They were wrapped in thick plastic, in a container the size of a size thirteen shoebox and delivered by UPS. The brown-dressed delivery man gave me a conspiratorial wink as I electronically “signed” for the plants. I have no idea why he thought I would actually be signing my name for something worthy of a conspiratorial wink, but I smiled back at him, giving him something to tell his wife about over supper that night. 

What I had, in fact, were six very small Edelweiss plants shipped by air from Germany. They were a birthday present for my Bavarian-born wife, Charlotte. I knew she would be delighted with them. Whether she could get the Alpine Mountain plants to grow in Tennessee soil—and survive a Southern summer—was another story altogether. 

Charlotte, with her typical Teutonic efficiency—once she wiped away the birthday tears of delight and surprise—set about to read everything available online about the care and feeding of the fragile plants. She decided to try three different locations, two tiny Edelweiss seedlings to a site. And so for the next two years, summer and winter, we watched the delicate plants. One after the other, four of the seedlings gave up the ghost and died.

But the last two, in a site with more shade than sun, had a protective wooden border that Charlotte used to cover the plants with leaves to get them through winter. Much like they survived their native Alpine Mountain winters under a protective bed of snow. Of the two remaining  plants, one grew slowly, holding its own in a strange soil but seemingly uncertain of its surroundings. 

But the sixth plant embraced its home and flourished. It has grown steadily over the past two years, climbing to almost a foot tall.  And a few days ago, to Charlotte’s teary-eyed delight, her Edelweiss finally bloomed. The delicate white blossom in a strange soil—and in a stranger climate—had opened against all odds.  And just to show that our Father always has perfect timing, Charlotte’s Edelweiss bloomed on the very day that she herself—51 years ago—had first come to the Uni … ted States.

As Jesus taught us, our Father’s Word works in exactly the same way. We plant it in our heart, nurture it, water it, and pray over itand the Word grows and blooms in us. As the song goes: “Blossoms of snow, may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever.” 

Nurture your seeds of the Word so they will bloom and grow … forever.

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Forgiveness is a tall order.

Years ago, my mother gave my family a generous financial gift. As a low-vision sufferer, she wanted to thank us for caring for her for ten years. My adopted sister, who had miraculously sobered up some years before and became a successful speaker, ambushed us with a public smear campaign and false accusations of stealing money.

As a child, I had been afraid of my adopted sister, but as adults, we had been close for two decades. She was smart, funny, and talented. So, we were blindsided when she turned on us.

During this tornado, I had too much anxiety to eat adequately. My mother was hurt by this too and lost weight she could not afford to lose. Our three daughters were puzzled that their doting aunt could trash our entire family this way.

One day, with my mind whirling and twirling in the grocery store, I spotted a forgiveness book in the Hallmark aisle. God is so creative. He always astounds me. That book changed my life.

If I claim to be a Christian, I must figure out how to forgive fully, no matter what. Jesus calls us to forgive as He forgives us—seventy times seven times daily if needed.

But how on earth can I do that? I know this is impossible, but I’ve learned I can draw on God’s unlimited power anytime. I humbly remember I need the Lord’s forgiveness too. I’m puzzled that He is patient with me and loves me unconditionally anyway.

Could I love my adopted sister from afar? Could I let go of the hurt and pray for her every day, even with clenched teeth? Yes, but only with divine assistance.

I think of Jesus, beaten, bloodied, and hanging on the cross, saying, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He exemplified radical love for the ages. We can dip into this power every day. We can step into another’s shoes and borrow Jesus’ compassion for that person. He is our forgiving Friend and helps us find a way to forgive others.

Make it your goal to learn to forgive like Jesus. 

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and fancycrave1.)

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I sat stunned, trying to grasp the meaning of his gentle answer with powerful impact.

Early in our marriage, my husband stopped an argument in its tracks. “We can discuss this, but only if you stop yelling.”

Angry people yelled, didn’t they? How else could I express it? At least I had grown up thinking so. In my house, we yelled to resolve conflict. No one ever said our unwritten rule aloud, but we lived by it: “Loudest person wins.” My husband’s boundary startled me into a completely different paradigm.

After a few deep breaths, we continued our conversation. My husband gently explained that yelling hurt our relationship. As a divorced person, you’d think I would have already figured that out. But it took him explaining it to me in the most basic terms to help me understand.

I loved my husband deeply. We had both committed to making our second marriage work. We didn’t want to become another divorce statistic. And so far, so good after a couple of decades. Gradually, I learned to speak respectfully so he could hear my feelings without feeling attacked.

Did my husband have to remind me occasionally? Absolutely, especially during my daughters’ teen years. Did I always appreciate those reminders? Goodness, no. My flesh demanded the ability to yell.

My husband’s gentle answer set a life-changing boundary that changed the course of generations of harsh words. I didn’t always like it, but I realize what a marvelous mercy God showed me through it.

God slowly, sometimes painfully, teaches us freedom comes with self-control. His Spirit brings some sweet relationships, especially with those closest to us. When we allow God to work in us, we’re more likely to clamp our lips shut and wait until we season our words with grace. God can use our kind, compassionate words to influence others and enrich our relationships, possibly even for generations.

Is there a person in your life prone to harsh words? What gentle answers can you give that would point them to Jesus?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Ashish_Choudhary.)

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“I can’t do this,” June said, holding her head.

June had told God she could not be the caregiver for her husband. For two years, he’d shown signs of dementia, and their lives changed. They had successfully pastored churches together for decades. Now June felt her whole life become uncertain, fragile. Her husband depended on her. She remembered their doctors’ appointments. She reminded him to take his medicines. She made the major decisions in their home. It was too much, and she felt overwhelmed and alone.

Paul, too, found himself in a desperate situation more than once. While a prisoner on a ship headed to Italy, a Northeastern hurricane swept over the waters as the ship sailed along the shore of Crete. The storm continued for fourteen days, and the 276 passengers and crew lost all hope of landing safely.

Paul discovered the sailors’ plan to escape by lifeboat. After a night's visit by an angel, Paul informed the soldiers that everyone would be saved, but only if they remained with the ship. They obeyed and stayed with the ship. Sure enough, everyone made it to shore, although the ship broke apart.

Life can sometimes overwhelm us. We may feel inadequate or incapable of doing what is required of us. It is all just too much. We recognize our limitations and want to withdraw. Self-preservation has a strong pull when we are afraid.

Sometimes, our first response to a life storm is to jump ship. We want to get away from the immediate problem. But Christ is our ship of safety. In Him, we are secure, no matter what problem or storm comes our way. We find security if we stay put in Christ and hold to His promises.

What do you need to do to stay with the ship?

(photo courtesy of pixabay and Lumania)

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Somewhere along the line today—between football, Ryan Seacrest, and preparing to party—it will dawn on most of us that another year is lurching to an end. And that a brand-new year is waiting to spring over the horizon like a brilliant sunrise after a particularly dark and stormy night.

Some of you are probably like me. I have far fewer years ahead than I've left behind in the rearview mirror. And this time of year, a question occasionally whispers in the back of my mind. Is this my last year?

When I was younger, such questions never surfaced. I was bulletproof and immortal. I couldn't even conceive of a year beginning with a 2. Back before a driver's license broadened my horizons, I spent some New Year's Eve celebrations shooting hoops all night in our home driveway with my best friend. The radio we had propped up close by the basketball goal had Casey Kasem and his American Top Forty counting down the year's top 100 songs . . . loudly. Yeah, we were party animals.

Even each holiday season as a young adult was pretty much an occasion for self-indulgence. I think probably enough said about that, the better. But as maturity began to worm its inevitable way into my body and brain, the thought that this merry-go-round would eventually glide to a stop crept into the back of my mind, especially as we once again swapped out calendars, an old year for a new year.

Fortunately, I have an answer to those internal questions about my eventual mortality. It ain't a problem. All those questions are simply the Devil whispering his nonsense and trying to get me to question my faith. What the apostle James said about this, I have engraved on my heart: "Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you." Actually, my shorter version is simply, "Shut up, Satan!" And it works.

Jesus took my punishment on the cross. All the discipline and damnation I so willingly brought on myself, Jesus paid for. The eternity in hell I so richly deserve, my Savior took for me. The judgment that awaits me, that awaits all of us … well, I get to hide behind Jesus on that day. The King of kings and Lord of lords died for me, so I don't have to die.

So, today, as I change the calendar over to a new one for 2024, the question comes creeping, unbidden: Is this my last year? I just laugh and repeat my mantra: "Shut up, Satan!" Because of Jesus, I get to live forever.

Are you ready to resist the Devil in this brand-new year?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Tumisu.)

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I love Christmas and everything about it. The lights. The music. The decorations. The goodies. Time with friends and family. But this was a different kind of Christmas—the worst one ever.

I’m a pretty organized person who makes lists and plans. Well . . . not this particular year. My shopping—generally finished before Thanksgiving—was done two days before Christmas. Mostly gift cards instead of my normal, well-thought-out gifts. I dealt with several health issues, and my husband got sick right before the big day. We had no gifts under the tree for each other, and what lay under the tree was minimal. My daughter and her family—who live over three hours away—could not join us. This would be the first Christmas without our daughter in all her forty-three years. Our son had plans with his wife’s family. Even my Christmas orchid didn’t bloom.

So there I sat on Christmas Eve, staring at my tree and feeling quite sorry for myself. So sorry, in fact, that I had a complete meltdown.

I poured out my complaints to my very patient husband. He listened and tried to talk me down off the proverbial ledge. I cried. I prayed. I fretted. I woke up in the middle of the night and fretted some more.

On Christmas morning, I once again sat by my tree. No tears, just prayer. Prayer to the One whose birthday I was supposed to be celebrating. I gave my burden to Him, then read an article about how the holiday can be hard for some people who must put on a brave face while grieving inside. My problems seemed petty compared to what others might be facing.

The best part was the reminder that when Jesus lives inside us, we are never alone—even in our darkest and saddest moments. He laid down His life so we could have an abundance of love, joy, and peace—no matter the time of year or what season of life we find ourselves in. All we must do is keep our focus on Him.

I’m learning to be more flexible, knowing that things will not always turn out how I want them to. But that’s okay. I can rest in Him, knowing He is with me and will supply everything I need. And He will do the same for you.

How can you guard against a Christmas meltdown? 

(photo courtesy of pixabay and Quangpraha)

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It’s okay, baby girl. Yeah, you’re hungry, aren’t you? I’m warming up the milk right now. If I give you the bottle right away, it’ll be cold, and you don’t like cold milk. Sometimes in life, you’ve got to be patient and wait for what you need. It’s hard waiting for the right time, isn’t it? But know the thing you’re crying for is already on its way. Your dada sees you, and your dada loves you.

It’s okay, baby girl. Yeah, tummy time is rough, isn’t it? You’re stuck in a place you can’t get out of. And you’re wondering why I’m letting you flail about instead of helping you. But I put you there purposefully because I know how strong it’ll make you. Soon, you’ll be crawling all over the place, exploring wherever you want to go. But to get there, you must practice, which means you must struggle a bit. Your dada sees you, and your dada loves you.

It’s okay, baby girl. Yeah, it’s cold walking from the house to the car, isn’t it? I don’t like the cold either. But sometimes, when you want to go somewhere and do something big, you must go through something uncomfortable to get there. It’ll be over sooner than you think, and I’ll carry you through it every step of the way. Your dada sees you, and your dada loves you.

It’s true. I love you more than you can possibly imagine. But you have another Dada, a Dada in heaven, and He loves you even more than I do. I know this because he’s my Dada too, and I’ve seen how much He loves me. Whenever you see me being good to you, my heavenly Dada showed me how to do it. I hope the way I raise you shows you enough of Him that you want to get to know Him too.

How can you be more aware of your heavenly Father’s love? 

(photo courtesy of author)

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In my village, a boy who had gone fishing was out on the sea for forty-eight hours.

When his parents raised the alarm on the third day, the village searched for him with our fishing boats. We found him a few hours after the search began, clinging to a rock. All he had was a rope and a bottle of water. His boat had capsized, and the rock had stopped the sea from carrying him away.

The storms of life can overwhelm our boats at times. At those moments, we don’t need a life jacket (it can be pierced) or another boat (it can still capsize.) What we need is a rock that is stable, reliable, and immovable. Our spiritual rock is none other than Jesus—a Rock that follows, guides, and shelters.

David prayed for the future: “When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.” Jesus is deeper than the seas and higher than the heavens. He covets our prayers. Prayer doesn’t have to be long or stressful. We just pour out our hearts to Him in all simplicity. He will answer.

How can you go to the Rock when you are tired, listless, hopeless, depressed, and overwhelmed? 

(photo courtesy of pixabay.com.)

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My vehicle broke down in the middle of a busy intersection.

As I waited for the tow truck to rescue me, I stood beside my vehicle’s trunk and motioned cars into the adjacent lane. My car had broken down because of an electrical failure, so I couldn’t turn on my emergency flashers.

Despite my efforts to alert other drivers to my status, I heard several drivers honk, yell profanities, and make harsh hand gestures as they passed. I was shocked. I was not only doing the best I could in an embarrassing situation, but I was also en route to a military science class and dressed in my army combat uniform.

While I was tempted to lash out and repay other drivers’ rude remarks with rudeness, the American flag displayed on my shoulder prevented me from acting dishonorably. I represented my country and wanted to do so well.

I no longer represent the armed forces but still represent someone far greater than myself: Christ. Just as my actions while in uniform—good or bad—were associated with the organization I served, my behavior as a Christian is as well, as Paul reminds us in this verse: And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. 

We must strive daily to commit all we say and do to Jesus. By doing so, we will represent Christ well and draw others to Him through our kindness and love.

What steps will help you represent Christ well? 

(photo courtesy of pixabay.com.)

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Twenty years ago, our grandson Caleb came to live with us. Two years old at the time, he is now a college freshman. At two, his vocabulary was still pretty limited. But one phrase he had down pat was “thank you.” He pronounced it, thank-um!”

When we first brought Caleb into our family, his gratitude for even the most minor things was almost infectious. Especially chicken. Caleb loved chicken. He still does. Even at two, he knew what the Kentucky Fried Chicken sign meant. When we pulled into the local KFC and Caleb spotted the sign, a joyous “thank-um” erupted from his booster car seat. It was so effervescent that “thank-um” has come down through the years to be a part of our family vocabulary. 

This holiday weekend will be brimming with things for most of us to be exuberant about. Most of us will bow our heads on Thanksgiving Day with heartfelt prayers over the good food before us. We’ll be grateful for the company of family and friends. Some will settle in for serious football games, others for serious shopping.

At some point, I’ll slip into the kitchen for one of my favorite post-Thanksgiving guilty pleasures: piles of sliced smoked turkey on thick slices of Charlotte’s homemade sourdough bread, along with mayo, Swiss cheese, cranberry sauce, lettuce, tomato, and ground pepper. And I will surely be thankful.

However, at some point between Thanksgiving and Christmas, my enthusiasm will inevitably lag. The constant war between the Christmas gift list and my credit card balances, the ever-decreasing sunlight, and the onset of winter’s freezing everything in sight will conspire to chip away at my Thanksgiving joy. And then there is the fragile condition of our inflated economy and the terrible encroaching dangers from the world at large. Some days, I feel like peeking out the window just to see what chapter of Revelation we’re doing today.

But in this, I’m wrong. It doesn’t matter what chapter of Revelation we’re doing. I should remember how the story ends. It doesn’t matter what I feel or what particular emotion claws at me. It doesn’t even matter what season it is. The only thing that should matter is that if I wake up and draw breath in the morning, there is only one suitable reaction on my part: a heartfelt “thank-um” to my  Father in heaven for His unending, undying love for me. And maybe for turkey sandwiches too.

What has God done that you need to be genuinely thankful for today?

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and Rasterlocke.)

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Walking the second mile of forgiveness wasn’t easy.

Gene’s pleasures were few when he was a child. His father was an alcoholic, and his parents divorced when he was five. Later, his mother remarried, but this man, like Gene’s father, was also an alcoholic. His life centered around drinking. The family lived far out in the country, isolated from others, in a home without electricity. Their only source of water came from a small stream.

The stepfather was a logger, and Gene often helped with cutting and hauling trees instead of attending school. After working all day, Gene sat in their old truck while his stepfather spent hours in a tavern. Life consisted of much work, physical and emotional abuse, and little pleasure for Gene.

Finally, in his teens, when he could take the abuse no longer, Gene ran away. He served in the navy and later became the supervisor of a small company. He enjoyed the work and earned a good living.

Then one day, Gene received a letter from his mother, telling him his stepfather was in failing health and that she was having problems taking care of him. Although she didn’t ask for help, Gene realized his mother needed him. He quit his job and returned to help care for the man who had abused him for many years.

Gene forgave his stepfather even though he never asked for forgiveness. He walked the second mile.

Steven also forgave. As he lay dying from being stoned, he prayed, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them!” God’s love so permeated Steven that, even as death neared, he was more concerned about others than himself.

Many of us have known people who mistreated us. We may think it is impossible to forgive them, but with God, all things are possible.

Sowing our life’s field with seeds of unforgiveness will only bring a harvest of resentment, bitterness, and frustration. But yielding to the leading of God’s Spirit to forgive will produce a bountiful crop of peace and inner joy.

Is there someone you need to forgive? How can you walk the second mile and do it?

(photo courtesy of pixabay.com.)

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I felt a sense of dread as I leaned on my husband and hobbled toward my son’s front door. It happens every time we visit him and his family. A familiar scuffling behind that door made me brace myself. When the door opened, Ruby rushed at me excitedly, nearly knocking me over.

“Ruby, go lie down!” I yelled.

With her head down, she retreated to the loveseat in front of the window and sighed as she laid her head on her big paws, looking at me sadly.

Ruby is a seventy-pound Ridgeback Shepherd mix and the sweetest dog I’ve ever known. But despite my reprimands, she follows me around my son’s house, seeking my affection and approval.

Dogs love without condition. They don’t care whether you like them or not. They love devoid of control and wear their emotions like little children.

Like dogs, small children don’t care what we look like. They don’t mind if we’re disabled. But we must teach them to be wary of strangers, or they will embrace anyone who gives them attention.

Jesus probably means we should love people as children do. He wants us to look past skin color, size, shape, ethnicity, ability, disability, or prickly personality and peer into their hearts as God does. After all, how can we spread the good news and invite others into God’s kingdom if we don’t greet others with enthusiasm and genuine unrestrained love?

We must not wave off people who offend us but consider how much God loves them and wants us to draw them toward Him. We dare not send them off in sorrow.

What are some things that remind you of God’s love for everyone? 

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One day while searching online, I looked up my high school classmates and any famous people who had graduated from there.

I found Frank. He had become a politician. I also discovered that he passed away a few years ago when only in his fifties. My dad suggested I look for my first friend, Steve. He, too, had died more than ten years ago at the age of forty-five. Both men died of cancer. They were too young to die.

The average person lives longer than Frank and Steve. Although many people believe they will live a long life, God does not promise us a long life, nor do we know when our life will end.

Since we don’t know when death will come, it is important to know Jesus personally as our Lord and Savior and to be ready. If we reject Jesus, we will choose to spend eternity separated from God. This is not a choice anyone should want to make.

I don’t know if Frank or Steve knew Jesus, but hopefully, they both came to Jesus. Although none of us know the day or hour Jesus will come or we will die, it’s never too late to turn to Jesus.

How can you prepare for death? 

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As we crossed the high peaks of Northwest Georgia's lower Appalachians, the sun caressed the yellow, orange, and scarlet red of this year's autumn foliage.

The leaves were beautiful. Along the side of the road and in the fields beyond, suddenly bright orange pumpkins were everywhere. It was early in the last week of October, and my wife, Charlotte, and I were returning from our annual week in Alpine Helen, Georgia. Every year we attend the Oktoberfest there, one of the best and longest in the nation. Charlotte is Bavarian-born, and our annual visit is a way to embrace the heritage she left behind in Germany.

Almost every year, the same phenomenon occurs. We leave our home in middle Tennessee with the trees still clothed in late summer olive-green and return a week later with those same trees ablaze with the fiery colors of fall.

Although man's calendar says autumn started on September 22nd, nature's symbols of fall don’t begin to appear here until the last week of October. We have yet to see the first frost or freeze, and it's barely gotten cool enough at night to smell the familiar smell of woodsmoke wafting from the scattered chimneys on our Tennessee ridge top.

Man's constant, desperate attempt to control his God-given natural world exhibits itself in many forms. Once, we managed to build civilizations simply on the sun's rising and setting, but soon we subdivided those daylight hours with sundials and hourglasses. Mechanical timepieces followed, and Benjamin Franklin first suggested daylight-saving time.

Man took the natural seasons and assigned artificial start and stop dates. We start celebrating fall at the beginning of September, but it’s nearly November before the first pumpkin appears hereabouts. God moves on His schedule, not by any measurement of man.

In our personal lives, too, God has plans for us. He had a plan laid out while we were still being knit together in our mother's womb. But we must seek out that plan through His Word and His Spirit. More importantly, we must let go of the steering wheel as we discover that plan and let God drive the car.

As a little boy, I wanted to be a preacher. Okay, it was because I thought they just worked one day a week on Sunday, but still, the passion was there. As I grew older, I rebelled, choosing the carnal over the spiritual, and then spent years paying for that rebellion.

Have I fulfilled God's plan for my life? Sadly, I don't think so. I have God-given gifts I don't use enough for His glory. Thank goodness I can hold Jesus' hand and hide behind His forgiveness when I have to stand before God on Judgement Day.

Are you seeking God’s plan for your life in His wonderful written Word? Are you listening to His Spirit? Are you fulfilling His goal for you? Jesus said to seek His kingdom and righteousness first, and then He would add everything else.

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Growing up, my family was not a grace-saying family. Now, however, we say grace.

When I was young, dinner was a sacred time. We waited until Dad filled his plate and passed the serving dishes around. Then we talked, laughed, and ate. There was also serious business discussed. Sometimes, scoldings happened at that table. But we experienced love and discipline at the same time. We learned social graces such as take your elbows off the table, use a fork, not your fingers, and don’t talk with food in your mouth. We connected with our parents and each other.

Now, in our busy lives, we often grab meals whenever and wherever we can. We may eat in the car on the way to the next thing or sit in front of the television looking to be entertained. I’ve even caught myself eating while standing in the kitchen, preparing our next meal. Talk about multitasking.

I’ve been trying to get my family back to the table. The table isn’t always the actual dining table. It may be the picnic table outside or when everyone uses TV trays in the same room. Anyplace we can talk. We share about our days, goals, and dreams. Someone always tells a joke. One of us is always the loud eater and one a picky eater. It doesn’t matter because we are doing it together. It’s where we make memories. Like the time there was a fight over the last wonton. Or the time milk spurted out of someone’s mouth when they laughed.

We are reconnecting—learning about Grandpa’s job or what happened at school that day. It may seem insignificant, but the twenty to thirty minutes we spend at the table are the day’s best moments.

The most important part is saying grace, as Jesus did. The kids learn to offer thanks and bless their food at the table. We acknowledge that God provides and that He is in our midst.

Plan for your family to have meals together. It may seem chaotic initially, but in time your family will also be saying grace together. 

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I’d made plans, and this was not in them.

I suppose the adage, “The best-laid plans often go awry,” holds true. Our son and his fiancé were coming home for the holidays. I’d planned meals, bought groceries, and cleaned the house. After spending the afternoon cooking a meal fit for a king, I was excited and ready for them to walk through the door. All the food was spread, the dishes were ready, and then my son called. “We’ll be home in a few minutes. I took Jaelle to Pals” (a local favorite hot dog place).

What? I’d made supper. It was served. There was a sudden flare of anger, and then that quickly subsided as I bit my tongue and said, “Well, enjoy. We’ll see you in a bit.” My momma’s heart was a little hurt, but the greater picture was that my son and his gal were home for a visit. We ate without them.

It was Jeremiah’s job to take the messages of God to the people of Israel. They were in bondage in Babylon. At this point, a false prophet, Hananiah, had told them God would free them from Babylon within two years, and many of the people grasped hold of this – but it was a lie. As a result, God removed Hananiah from the earth, and Jeremiah was sent to tell them that God had a plan. They would remain in Babylon for seventy years before being freed. It would be hard, but God’s plan was not immediate. It was long-term.

We often have plans only to have them shot down. The things we plan for right now may come later. God has a plan for our lives. Rarely are His ways immediate for us. Instead, He lays out a life-long plan for our lives. God knows exactly what He has in store for us, and His plans come to fruition in His timing. The hard part for us is learning to trust and wait. When we wait, we discover that God’s plans for us are far greater than we had hoped for in the heat of the moment.

Good things come to those who wait. Besides, God’s ways and plans are well-prepared. Trust in the Lord. His plans are to prosper you, not harm you.

How can you trust God’s best-laid plans?

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When my sister and I were quite young, my grandma gathered us and our cousins around her pipe organ. There, we gazed at Grandma’s loving hands, teaching us hymns to worship Jesus. “Yes, Jesus is for me,” I thought as I marched home in my Sunday best to be a little Christian soldier.

Now, in my later years, I reflect on Jesus with me. I read His words in John’s gospel. In my heart, this teaching gives perfect advice for me or anyone experiencing tough times. Jesus is with me and for me.

The world does not revolve around any individual or our striving. Anyone can face uncertainty. But God will show each of us a path, sometimes unexpectedly, just as He did for Jesus two thousand years ago.

We are all born to be healed by Jesus’ loving hands as we heed His lessons. In our daily prayers, we can hope to follow His light and share in His grace.

I intend to pray for the inner peace of everyone. I hope you will do the same. As my grandma taught her young Christian soldiers, Jesus is for us.  

What are some ways you can show others that Jesus is for them?

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The volume was up a bit more than usual as I sang along with a contemporary Christian song one day while driving. When the song ended, I reached to turn the radio down, then heard the announcer say, “There’s life in the red letters.”

Funny how the smallest statement can grab your heart. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about what he said. How true. And sadly, how taken for granted. I pulled my car over and scribbled the words on a notepad.

The Word of God is described as alive. Powerful. Sharper than even the sharpest two-edged sword. It exposes our deepest thoughts and the secret motives and desires of our heart. This is especially true when it comes to the letters written in red. The words of Jesus Himself—the Word who became flesh. The One who loves us so much that He suffered, bled, and died a cruel death so we could have eternal life and so much more.

Jesus referred to Himself as the following:

• The Way – When we lose our way, He will help us find it and keep us on the right path. He is also the one and only way to the Father.
• The Truth – When too many voices clamor for our attention and we don’t know who or what to believe, He will lead us to the truth. He is the truth.
• The Life – When we struggle to make sense of our very existence, He fills us with love, strength, and purpose. He promises us abundant life on earth and eternal life in heaven.

Whenever you’re downcast and need some comfort and guidance, open your Bible and turn to the red letters. There, you will find everything you need.

(photo courtesy of Martin Wiles.)

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I've never been a narrow-waisted guy, especially as I got past the first quarter of my life and started toward middle age.

In fact, my nickname for the last few decades has been "Bear." Because, I suppose, I sort of resemble a bear in my upper body. My being a few inches over six feet and a lot of heavyset roundness has much to do with it, as opposed to an Olympic swimmer's chiseled inverted triangle body.

As I grew older, a situation began to arise with my pants. They no longer stayed where they were intended—around my waist. They began to develop a troubling tendency to visit my knees at the most inopportune moments. No matter what belt I wore or how tightly I cinched it, sooner or later I felt my pants slip off my hips and head south.

I can't begin to tell you how many years (decades) back I started wearing suspenders instead of a belt, but it's been a minute. Suspenders were and are wonderful. For my particularly peculiar body shape, they provide the support I need—not to mention being amazingly more comfortable. And my pants stay where I leave them.

It didn't take long for my suspenders to become a personal trademark. I have at least twenty different colors and types. I wear them year-round with long pants and shorts, whether they are in style or not. Fashion and I parted ways a long time ago, anyway.

Unfortunately, life's ups and downs and twists and turns more often resemble my rather rotund bear-type body than that of a chiseled athlete. And as we navigate our roller coaster lives, our faith can often be subjected to more stress than our proverbial belts can handle. It is inevitable that our faith will, at some point, wind up around our knees like a pair of my old pants.

Fortunately, God has given us suspenders for our faith. Not only has He given us His magnificent Word to lift and support us in times of trouble, but our Father has promised to strengthen us, help us, and uphold us with His righteous right hand. Wow!

Is your belief down around your knees? Has your faith fallen? Open your Bible and find some suspenders. I promise they are in there. And if you need to, simply reach up. You'll discover God already reaching down.

Does your faith need suspenders?

(photo courtesy of pixabay and the author)

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Spring had sprung in our yard, and I found myself living with weeds.

From a distance, the front lawn appeared immaculate, but up close was another story. Crabgrass, Dallisgrass, and other uninvited plants took hold and basked in the sun, alongside our struggling Bermuda grass.

My master gardener husband reminded me that weeds are not bad in and of themselves. Unwelcome vegetation to one horticulturist may be preferred blossoms to another. Many of the stunning, flowering plants in butterfly gardens grow wild on prairies, uncultivated—unwanted by some but coveted by others.

I like to yank suckers off our yard’s wax myrtles, Ligustrum, crape myrtles, and flowering peach trees. These tiny spurts of greenery on the elegant wooden stalks pilfer the plants. They are not weeds but still steal sun, water, and nutrients from the beautiful, leafy upper growth. 

Life is crowded with weeds and our own life-sprouts that can pull us away from our heavenly Father. They appear as people, entertainment, tasks, and infinite lists. But God calls us to thrive among the weeds, not attach to them, because He will take them away one day.

I plan to pluck out the weeds that grow in my mind and heart and hand them over to the Master Gardener to be burned so I can worship and serve daily in His garden without limit. I hope you will too.

What weeds do you need to eliminate? 

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God, why won’t You answer me? Are You even listening? Are You there?

If you’re anything like me, you’ve asked these questions. Perhaps you’ve repeatedly prayed and cried out to God about a particular matter. Maybe for healing. Maybe for provision when you’re having a hard time making ends meet. Maybe for guidance during a difficult decision. And perhaps it felt like God didn’t answer . . . like God didn’t hear. Maybe you’ve even gone through periods where prayer seems like a colossal waste of time.

Enslaved by the Egyptians for four hundred years, the Israelites had a rough time. They likely cried out to God daily, begging Him to free them from servitude and fulfill His promise to Abraham. But in slavery, they remained—suffering, crying out to God, and feeling abandoned and ignored.

And guess what? God heard and remembered His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He looked down on His people, was concerned, and intervened. Enter Moses.

Sometimes, prayer feels pointless. Nothing happens. Nothing changes. But God does hear our prayers. And He does care. Even Jesus spent many days and nights in prayer, and if Jesus recognized the power of prayer, we should too.

While God’s timing may not be our timing nor our understanding His understanding, we can be confident He does hear our prayers. Our job is to remain faithful and trust that He will provide and answer our every cry in His perfect timing. Our prayers are not in vain.

How can you be more confident that God will answer your prayers? 

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Love is patient, but teaching patience . . . well, you need patience to do that.

I was in children’s ministry for over twenty years. Whenever someone decided to do a lesson on patience, it always ended in disaster. It was a test for everyone’s patience . . . every time.

My children were present with every teaching. I think they showed the worst example of everyone there. It kept me on my toes and knees. Patience sounds like a foreign word for anyone with a toddler or a teenager. As a mother of two boys and one girl, I sometimes felt as if they were looking for new ways to test mine daily.

If we struggle with patience, how do we teach it to our kids? We begin with ourselves and daily time with God. Kids do what we do, so we must model the virtue first. If we spend time with God, He will work through His Holy Spirit and grow our patience. Only then can we teach our kids its importance.

A toddler kicking and screaming because they want something immediately does not demonstrate patience. Instead of tolerating tantrums, we can use them to teach our children. God does not give us everything we want on every occasion we ask. He knows better. We must listen to His guidance so that we can teach patience to others.

What are some steps you can take to develop more patience? 

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Out here in the boondocks of Middle Tennessee, about an hour south of Nashville, options for Internet access are minimal.

In the twenty years we’ve been here, we have tried all the options available, with varying degrees of success. By far, our most recent provider has been the best, who offered what they called “wireless direct internet.” This service was presented based on a line-of-sight capability with one of their cell towers. This we had. In fact, the tower stood in plain view just a half mile away, one ridge over. Most of our neighbors quickly signed up for this service as well.

The trouble began one morning just about a month ago. As was my daily routine, I poured myself a cup of coffee, sat at my desk, turned my computer on, and pulled my Bible down for my daily reading while it booted up. When I finished reading and turned to the computer, those ominous words greeted me on the screen: “No Internet Connection.”

In addition to no email or social media, I have two reasonably popular web pages requiring daily administration and maintenance. Our household was lost and in Internet withdrawal. Several calls for service yielded absolutely zero results. And then, five days later, the cell tower simply disappeared. One minute it was there; the next minute it wasn’t. Today, a month later, it has not returned. Neither has our Internet service from that provider. (Although we did get a bill for the month of supposed service they neglected to provide.)

We have now made other Internet arrangements and discovered a new option that is even better and cheaper than what we had. God is good!

However, for these past few weeks, we have learned exactly how much the Internet has invaded and ingrained itself in our daily lives. To suddenly be without it was a shock to the system.

It made me wonder what it would be like to suddenly not have access to another essential support system: the love and truth of the Word of God. While we know of the Bible’s ban around the world in Muslim and Communist countries, did you know it has also been banned here in the United States? Yep, a Utah school district has banned the Bible from its libraries.

What worries me even more than the outright banning of the Bible, is the subtle altering of the Word by clever artificial intelligence programs. These AI programs have already begun to produce Bibles that change the message of pure loving truth to one that supports particular false agendas.

It has become imperative for me to get the Word of God indelibly in my heart. Bible study, which I admit has not always been one of my highest priorities, has taken on a new urgency. The day is coming when what’s ingrained in my heart and mind may be the only place I can find the true Word of God. 

Is the Word of God safely ingrained in your heart?

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I never dreamed how God would answer my prayer.

When my baby girl left for college, I prayed a special prayer for her, asking Jesus to let me know when I needed to pray for her and to protect and keep her close to Him.

Through the years, I received sudden thoughts to pray for her—when I washed dishes or stood in a line at the grocery store. I just knew my daughter needed prayer at that minute. Sometimes I was awakened in the middle of the night and could hear her calling my name as if she were trying to awaken me. So, I would get on my knees and pray for her, and within a day or two, I found out she had needed my prayer.

Sometimes her needs were simple, such as when taking a college test. At other times, she was in danger. One afternoon, I felt an impulse to pray for her. She lived in another state with a time difference of two hours, but I prayed, and two hours later, the accident happened. She had lost her footing and fallen down a slope in her backyard. Had she hit the huge boulder in front of her, she would have died. But her fiancé yelled, and my daughter turned her body away from the boulder. Although she broke her shoulder and received a few cuts, she lived.  

My daughter also has an uncanny connection with me. When she senses something is wrong with me, she phones and discovers she is right. This kind of connection can only come from Jesus. We talk about Jesus often. She has stayed close to Him and reminds me to keep the faith.

Jesus always answers our prayers, typically in ways beyond what we imagine or hope for. If we teach our children Christian principles, we will give them values that will govern their decisions as they move into adulthood.

Make it a habit to pray for your children regularly. And ask Jesus to let you know when they need a special prayer. 

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My wife has a wonderful tradition of making New Year calendars for us to use during the upcoming year.

She includes outstanding pictures of the family that took place monthly during the closing year so we can flash back and relive them. Looking at her calendars is a blessing. Memories need prompting.

My wife has made these memory calendars for years, and we can recapture family memories almost as if we have stepped into a time machine anytime we bring out the calendars. We relive our life. Our children’s sweet little faces and happy occasions come to life again. Our dogs and cats, whom we loved so much, come back to life and frolic with joyous abandon before our eyes.         

Recently, I came across a verse in the Bible that reveals a picture of Jesus. So I now carry His picture with me everywhere I go.

The Lord Jesus Christ is the radiance of God the Father. The Father sent Him to earth to reveal who and what God is. Now, we can understand.

Jesus came as a radiant baby. Then, growing through the childhood stages, Jesus grew into manhood. Precise word pictures present the memories of His life, death, burial, and resurrection. The Spirit captured the radiance of Jesus in the Bible.

Jesus is also pictured as the exact representation of the nature of God Almighty. Wanting to understand the attributes of God, we need to study our Bible. By understanding Jesus, we know God.

Jesus is the Creator who upholds all of creation. He is the creator and sustainer of molecular adhesion, which holds matter together. He holds together the molecules of the chair in which I presently sit. If they lost their adhesion, I would suddenly hit the floor.

These snapshots compose the picture of my Lord, which I carry with me everywhere I go.

How can you daily carry your picture of Jesus close to your heart? Time passes quickly. 

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Someone will always have something bigger or better than us.

Daily, our children are confronted with all the world has to offer. Social media, friends from school, and their surroundings provide many temptations for envy and jealousy. So how do we guide them?

We begin by acknowledging how dangerous envy and jealousy are. We see the results all over the world and sometimes in our homes. If one sibling has something the other wants, disorder and fights can erupt, and they always end in tears. 

Teaching our children the opposite of envy and jealousy entails teaching them to be content with what they have. To be happy about someone else’s success and admire someone else’s talents involves wisdom from above. Our children can only learn that from our example.   

We must pray for God to teach us how to use His wisdom. Further, we should ask God to help us be content with what He has given us so we can teach our children the same. God is our provider and will always give us what we need and as much as we need.

What are some ways you can keep jealousy away? 

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“Uh oh,” I thought. “Houston, we have a problem.”

I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The same action I had done at least a thousand times over the past eight years. But this time was different. Instead of the expected, comforting sound of the engine starting, the dashboard lit up with seldom seen or noticed icons. Various alarms buzzed and beeped.

I did what we always do: turned the key again while silently pleading for a different result. The icons and alarms resumed their sound and light show. The engine did nothing.

This was more than just an inconvenience. My lovely wife Charlotte and I were 3,500 feet up a mountain having just ended our annual Oktoberfest vacation. We were in the northern Georgia mountains at the Alpine village of Helen, Georgia, where the strong expatriate German community who lives there puts on one of the best and closest-to-authentic Oktoberfests in the country. It is an annual way for the town to touch base with her heritage. 

But now we were at our rental cabin—our Ford Escape packed from the front seats to the back glass, half a mile up on top of a mountain, six hours from home, and with a dead car. Worry and panic nibbled around the edges of my mind. But then I glanced at the dashboard where I had placed my Bible. Peace flooded back in.

Taking Charlotte’s hand, we prayed. Suddenly, Charlotte remembered we had a roadside assistance program through Verizon. We had never used it, but we had it. Charlotte dug out the phone number we needed, and thirty minutes later a truck pulled up at the cabin. All we had was a dead battery—a product of the frigid temperature the night before and an hour of open doors loading the car.

Within five minutes, we were on our way, with a quick stop at the first auto store we passed for a new battery and with another pause for a quick prayer of thanks and gratefulness. By sunset, we were home.

In times of trial and worry, it is easy for me to let Satan’s lying voice creep into prominence. Fortunately, if I will only remember, I have my Father’s word and loving promises to keep me focused. 

Don’t let the trials of life send you into a panic. 

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“Daddy’s coming, Daddy’s coming!”

We once had the privilege of spending the day with our granddaughter. Repeatedly throughout the day, she shared heartfelt affirmation: “Now, I already told you Daddy’s coming.” Then, as we feasted on a tasty homemade lunch, she reminded us again.

Before leaving, our son had lovingly held, kissed, and reassured her that he would return soon. His promise had captured her thoughts and convinced her heart. She could not help but believe and anticipate his return.

During the day, she enjoyed napping, swinging, birdwatching, rock collecting, singing, handprint painting, eating farm fresh peaches and ripe, sweet red cherries, and dancing. But although delightful, she still focused on her dad’s return.  

We can believe that our heavenly Daddy’s word is true, just as our granddaughter believed her dad’s word. He is faithful and will do what He says. All the promises of the Lord are yes and amen.

My granddaughter’s message spoke to my heart. I need promptings about my eternal focus that my heavenly Father will return. Amid pleasures, pain, work, leisure, disappointments, daily duties, difficulties, serving, trials, or travels, I must remember Daddy’s coming. And when He returns, He will take us to be with Him forever. My granddaughter carried the truth from the Lord to her G’ma.  

What are some ways you can better focus on Christ’s return? 

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I experienced a peppermint mocha revelation as I waited in the drive-thru.

The custody battle caught me off guard. Anxiety assaulted me. Truth was on my side, and I believed God would honor that. But when the gavel fell, truth lost. My ex-husband received temporary custody. I was devastated.

By five weeks into the nightmare, hope had slipped away. Days on the calendar ticked off like beating drums of defeat. Someone had stolen the things that made life beautiful—a bear hug, morning coffee, or a well-timed pun. I tried to take life moment by moment, but weariness exacted its toll. God seemed silent.

I decided a treat might lift my spirits while driving to work one morning, so I pulled into a drive-thru and ordered a peppermint mocha. Unfortunately, anticipation gave way to disappointment as my mouth filled with a watery substance that tasted awful. Of all the difficult things happening in my life, was a simple drink too much to ask for? Frustrated, I drove to work, grumbling the entire way.

After work, I decided to give the coffee shop and peppermint mocha another chance. As I waited in the drive-thru, I realized I had misplaced trust issues. The coffee shop had let me down hours earlier, yet I trusted them again to get it right. But when life served up circumstances I didn’t expect, I let doubt dictate my interaction with God. I approached Him through the pain of those circumstances rather than through what I knew about His character. I doubted His goodness.

Unlike the barista, God didn’t ask for my order. Instead, He asked, “Do you trust Me?” In my pain, I had placed my trust in a fallible human institution while hesitating to trust an all-loving, faithful Father. God’s Word confirms His extravagant love through countless promises and stories. The psalmist’s words came to mind, and I immediately repented of my misplaced trust.

Sweet and satisfying or diluted and disappointing, we never know what a day may hand us, but each one offers the same question from our loving Father: “Do you trust Me?”

How can you do a better job of trusting God? 

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I needed light as I traveled West Africa’s interior.

My colleague and I drove an old Volkswagen whose headlights projected only candlelight power. That evening, we left the marketplace too late to arrive home while still daylight. The last hour of the trip took us through a sea of darkness where streetlights did not exist.

We craned our necks and pressed our foreheads against the windshield. We needed to be sure we stayed on the dirt road. The alternative was driving into high bush vegetation and meeting every living creature, including poisonous snakes. For that hour, we were glued to the road. But we crept ahead one step at a time and were thankful when we arrived home safely.

We associate candles with birthdays—blowing them out and making wishes. A candle’s light in the daytime is barely distinguishable, but when we light it at night during a power outage, it will brighten our surroundings.

The psalmist speaks of a lamp. The projection of a lamp is like a candle. Neither are headlights. They light the immediate area, not what’s around the corner.

Jesus taught His disciples the Lord’s Prayer, which entailed praying for daily bread and protection. He knew the world’s darkness would always haunt us, even in daylight hours. Therefore, we need God’s light daily, not just in personal darkness.

In our Christian journey, God reminds us that He knows what’s around the corner. Modern technology cannot duplicate our Creator’s wisdom. Reading and studying God’s Word provides the light to see His way, and His glow safely lights our way.

How do you experience God’s candlelight guidance? 

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I handed him the key with a fake smile on my face.

My friend’s husband had asked to borrow my car to run a quick errand while my friend and I were on our regular coffee date. We were a one-income family at the time, and money was tight. I barely had enough gas to make it home before payday. So I chewed my nails and prayed, turning my attention to the small children at our feet as my friend and I continued our visit.

Our children are grown now. My friend and I now get together for meals because we can afford to eat in restaurants. We share grandmother stories and have even traveled together. We talk about old times and new experiences. It is easy to look faithful when things are going well. When your tank is full and you have money in the bank, lending feels super spiritual.

As we talked one day, my friend shared a touching story. One night, as she and her husband left Walmart, a man approached, asking if he could have a few dollars for a tube for his bicycle tire. My husband told him to wait right there. She assumed her husband was going to buy a tube. But instead, he bought him a brand-new bike. When the stranger saw it, he cried and kept thanking them. Additionally, this was during COVID when bikes were in limited supply.

My friend and her husband have seen the guy around town on the bike they bought him. And how did I make it home years ago when my friend’s husband borrowed my car and I had no gas money? He filled the tank.

Has God blessed you? If so, whose tank can you fill? Perhaps, you can buy a bike for someone.  

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In the last half of the previous century, when I was a little boy growing up in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, my parents kept a burlap sack of magic beans in the pantry. Okay, maybe they weren't really "magic" beans, but they were absolutely enchanting to me.

What that burlap sack held was coffee beans. Like most adults back then, my parents ground their coffee beans themselves. Once ground, the pulverized beans would go into a basket in an electric percolator. Once plugged in, the percolator would push boiling water up a tube and then over the coffee grounds. After continuing this process long enough for you to wash your face and brush your teeth, upon returning to the kitchen, the percolator would be ready, filled with that delicious black elixir of life, coffee.

As a boy, I would slip some of those raw coffee beans out of that burlap bag in the pantry and into my pockets. I loved the taste of the coffee beans and would munch them as snacks throughout the day. I loved the smell of brewing coffee.

However, I despised whatever that stuff was that wound up in my parents’ coffee cups. It didn't taste exactly awful, but it was a close race. It took a while, but I eventually figured out I would never be a cream-and-sugar guy. I would drink my coffee strong and black all my life. My parents, bless their hearts, would have a little coffee with their cream-and-sugar-filled cups.

Refining the raw coffee beans into the hot, drinkable, delightful morning start to our day has undergone many changes since I was a little boy. The different processes all produce the same result, from electric percolators to drip coffee makers and K-cups. I'm old school, fixing my coffee every morning in a battered forty-year-old camping percolator on the stove.

In the same way, as a Christian, I am constantly refined. There are over fifty references in the Bible to our being refined, smelted, strained, sifted, clarified, and otherwise purified as believers. I'm no different from those coffee beans in my pocket from long ago. With every new sunrise (accompanied by a cup of coffee) in this fallen, sinful world, I'm being refined for the glorious new world to come. I hope to have percolated to a proper pureness when that time comes.

In the meantime, I try to remember to praise and thank Him for loving me enough to prepare me for life in His presence. And for coffee.

Are you being refined for His glory?

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He teared up. My husband leaned over the group of children to see our four-year-old grandson wave his hand.

“Do you have a question we can help you understand?” The VBS leader asked.

Our grandson nodded and then stood. “Why did the tiger have to die?”

Our VBS team had performed “The Story of God” for our kids, and when Adam and Eve sinned, the stuffed tiger Adam carried around after he lovingly named it – was suddenly taken away. In the next scene, Adam and Eve wore tiger skin vests. The meaning was clear to adults, but our grand was four. We didn’t expect him to catch the gest of it.

One VBS team member knelt next to our grandson. “That’s a great question! Now we can talk about the huge love of the Father.” He drew a large circle in the air and preceded to explain why the tiger died and how that showed how great the love of God is.

My husband dabbed his eyes and then smiled. The love of a granddad seeped out. He was so proud our wee one “got” the message.

Mother’s Day often overshadows Father’s Day. There’s a little attention given, but not much, which makes me sad. Dad’s love is just as great as the love of a mother. After all, look at the love of our Father in heaven.

Love is easiest shown by action. Explaining the immensity of God’s love is tough too. It’s so vast, yet John probably penned the best definition ever. “For God SO loved the world that He gave His only son.” Is there any greater love? John gave us so many revelations of God in the simplest of words to help us wrap our heads around its vastness. Then to think he passed this to us.

My husband was filled with so much love and pride for our grandson that tears seeped. A grandfather’s love pours down his cheek. I couldn’t help but think that this was just a sample of the love God feels for us. It’s so much more.

On this Father’s Day, honor the Father of all mankind. Honor your earthly father, even if he may not be ideal – because God so loved the world, He gave His only son for us all.

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This blizzard was not like our usual Idaho mountain storms.

Giant snowflakes muffled everything as their delicate crystalline structure collapsed and settled on the mounting ground cover. The cumulative sound of disruption generated a subtle, high-frequency squeak as we finished our evening chores. Night was coming with a heavy snow blanket. Mom hurried us to finish supper and get ready for the trek into town. We laughed with anticipation while dressing for the coming event.

It was Christmas, and we had arranged for a live manger scene at our little clapboard church—the oldest standing Presbyterian church west of the Mississippi. Builders had assembled the open shed from scrap lumber. We planned for real animals and even a live baby. The whole town of 250 citizens must have been excited, but snowfall would quickly make driving impossible. Finally, reaching the church lot, we saw a flock of chattering kids waiting around the shed.

The director had allotted two hours for the display and assigned the major roles. There were cries of disappointment from friends who hadn’t bothered to help us, wondering why they couldn’t participate in the drama since there was plenty of time.

Cars drove by as we assumed our places—the wise men, the shepherds, the angels, Joseph, Mary, and the baby Jesus in the manger. I heard comments coming through the rolled-down car windows like, “Look, Dad, there’s Jerry dressed up like a shepherd.”

Halfway through the presentation, I decided to give up my place as a shepherd, hoping better to appreciate the scene from the darkness near the road. As I looked, Mary took Jesus from the manger and held Him.

Overwhelmed by the incredible beauty and drama of the scene, I felt compelled to kneel in the snow for worship. God had really condescended to visit earth in the person of Jesus. I had to find, know, and worship this wondrous God. Eternity touched our little town that night as it did in Bethlehem so long ago. Jesus was revealing the Father, even to me. Eternity was calling.

God shows Himself in critical moments with life-changing consequences. Do you recognize and respond to His calls?

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“You’ll have to wait and ask your father!”

I remember wishing I didn’t have to check in with my dad before doing anything with my friends.

Because I imagined life would surely pass me by every time my mother said, “You’ll have to wait and ask your father,” I whined, moped, complained, and tried to get her to trust me and let me go. But her policy was non-negotiable and probably kept me from getting into much trouble.

Just like a human father, God wants His children to seek His wisdom before heading in a new direction. Had king David done that, Bathsheba would’ve never lost a child. And had Abraham done that, Hagar might have been able to stay on as Sarah’s maid. Even Adam would’ve been better off had he told the serpent that he and Eve needed to ask their Dad for permission before they could start hanging out.

Asking the Father for wisdom helps us stay safe and not fall headlong into mischief.

Before participating in anything, search the Scriptures for God’s wisdom and direction.

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The effervescent blonde dental hygienist tugged on the dentist chair’s overhead light. The same dentist chair where I currently and tensely reclined. My present interment was for a semi-annual cleaning and inspection of my teeth.

Now, dentist chairs have always made me uncomfortable. They remind me of the torture devices in Star Wars. And my personal history has taught me they can dispense pain equal to any past (or future) torment device. Unfortunately, my experiences with dentists have not always been champagne and roses.

Once she had the light focused right square in my eyes, the smiling hygienist ratcheted up the bubbly on her personality and, with a huge smile, said, “Open wide!” She held what looked to be a gleaming needle-pointed dental probe that appeared to be the size of a gaff hook.

I resigned myself to my fate and, for the next thirty minutes, had every tooth in my mouth poked, prodded, scrubbed, brushed, and flossed. Ultimately, I never felt that horrible piercing pain that only a tooth can bestow. My teeth were in good shape.

That wasn’t always the case. When I was younger, I let the maintenance on my teeth lapse. Oh, I would brush every day, but I let trips to the dentist fall entirely off my to-do list for about a decade. The result was inevitable. Decay attacked the enamel of my teeth, and cavities began to torment me. When, out of painful necessity, I returned to a dentist’s care, I lost some teeth they couldn’t repair. I learned my lesson the hard way.

Sin can and does attack me in exactly the same way. The moment I let the maintenance of my relationship with Jesus lapse, evil creeps in to decay and destroy. And yes, I’ve had to suffer that admonishment and learn that lesson too. The simple education for me is that prayer, fellowship with our Lord, and studying His Word are as essential to my relationship with God as proper dental hygiene is to my teeth.

Are there cavities in your relationship with God? Could your soul use a good flossing? Then cling to God and His Word ... with all your heart and all that you are.

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The first Sunday after moving to a new house, I misjudged the distance to church.

On the way, I realized I would be late. I knew Satan would love for me to turn around and go home, so I decided to go anyway. As I walked up the front steps, a gentleman, who was also late, opened the door for me.

“Perfect timing,” he remarked.

Oh, good. Everyone is standing and singing. Now it won’t be obvious that I’m late, and people won’t stare at me, I thought.

I slid into a row and began singing, then felt a hand on my shoulder. A lady leaned in and whispered, “Your skirt is up in the back.”

Humiliated, I pulled it down and said, “Thank you.”

Thoughts filled my head. Why didn’t the man who opened the door for me say something? I glanced back to see how many people sat behind me. I couldn’t help but grin. Although embarrassing, I laughed at myself.

Sometimes, to face the day, we need a good chuckle. So God gave us the gift of laughter. He knows how important laughter is and how it benefits us physically, mentally, and spiritually. God doesn’t want us just to live; He wants us to enjoy life.

When life is tough, laugh and have joy. People will notice the gladness in your heart and wonder where it came from. Your happiness will witness for Christ.

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“You’ll have to wait and ask your father.”

I remember wishing I didn’t have to check in with my dad before doing anything with my friends. I imagined life would surely pass me by whenever my mother said the above words. So I whined, moped, complained, and tried desperately to get her to trust me and let me go. But her policy was non-negotiable and probably kept me from getting caught in a great deal of trouble.

Just like parents, God wants His children to seek His wisdom before heading in a new direction. Had king David done that, Bathsheba would’ve never lost a child. And had Abraham done that, Hagar might have been able to remain as Sarah’s maid. Even Adam would’ve been better off had he told the serpent that he and Eve needed to ask their Dad for permission before hanging out.

Psalm 34:10 says those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing. Asking the Father for wisdom helps us stay safe and not fall headlong into mischief.

Before participating in anything, search the Scriptures for God’s wisdom and direction.

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From somewhere deep in slumber, at a time on the clock when it was as much the middle of the night as it could get, something tickled my cheek.

I ignored it. It tickled me again, and this time something also padded gently on my beard. Climbing partially and most unwillingly out of the depths of a sound sleep, I managed to lift a hand at the annoyance to brush it away. Instead of whatever I thought I would brush away, my hand encountered the soft, warm fur of our new ten-week-old kitten, Pumpernickel.

I opened my eyes to find her tiny nose almost touching mine and her whiskers dancing against my cheek. My hand automatically stroked her, and her eyes lit up with excitement. She erupted in a loud purr that sounded like a lawnmower outside my window.

Pumpernickel is still learning the ways of the house. It has been almost a decade since we last trained a new cat to be an inside kitty. I had forgotten how much patience it takes. Everything in the house that could be swatted, poked, batted, chased, pulled, chewed, and otherwise investigated . . . was. Of course, she had a dozen new toys to play with, and she did. But to her bright-green eyes, everything was a toy, especially if it moved.

She is a brilliantly intelligent kitten and voraciously curious about her world. The litter box was no problem for her to learn, and she has been good at understanding the no-go places. She has figured out that the dining room table, kitchen counters, and stove are not places she wants to explore. Of course, getting squirted with a water bottle and suddenly hearing her human erupt in a loud “No!” gets her attention. And she is a quick learner.

It is just all the other things she can get into that can’t be used as a learning moment until the infraction occurs. One day she discovered the swinging pendulum of the clock on the wall—another squirt with the water bottle and another patient learning moment.

Patience. How very grateful I am that my heavenly Father has patience with me. I haven’t managed to break all the Ten Commandments, but I’m definitely going to be hiding behind Jesus when my judgment time comes around. My Lord’s infinite forbearance at my continued stumbling stubbornness is just another in a long list of reasons for me to be forever thankful to Him.

Has the Lord’s patience been a part of your life? Have you thanked Him for it lately?

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I can’t see Him, but I feel the nearness of God.

I love to be around my family—especially my children and grandchildren. We plan events, birthdays, and special occasions. I enjoy going to their homes and them coming to mine. I enjoy doing things with them or doing nothing at all.

When I enjoy the wonders of God’s creation—the spectacular cloud-filled skies, vast mountains, dense forests, glassy lakes, stunning sunsets, exquisite flowers, and delicate hummingbirds—I sense His nearness.

If I experience trouble or danger, God’s protection reminds me of His presence with me. Everywhere I go, He goes before, behind, and beside me. So I have no reason to fear.

God’s presence is, at times, felt and revealed. It brings a deep peace that gives us calm assurance. God is a present help. He is not distant or at a faraway place out of our reach. Instead, He is at arm’s length. And if He is near, we know we are dear to Him and precious in His sight.

We want to be close to those we love and cherish. It is the same with God. He longs for a close relationship with us. The psalmist says if we draw near to God, He will draw near to us.

In times of uncertainty or doubt, God provides encouragement and hope. And in times of sickness, He gives strength and healing. Whenever we’re afraid or confused, His presence fills us with a calm sense of power, love, and a sound mind. His nearness brings comfort, peace, and security.

What are some ways you can feel God’s nearness?

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Pits happen. Every day. To everyone. Even to God’s children. Our landscapes are often pock-marked with pits of varying shapes, sizes, and depths.

I have experienced a myriad of pits: emotional abuse, flunking out of college, a miscarriage, a rebellious child, and being disinherited. When I first found myself in a pit, my initial instinct was to climb and claw my way out, which only resulted in bringing down dirt and debris upon myself, making the journey out that much messier.

In these pits, I can relate to Joseph, who found himself in several literal and figurative pits.

Literal and figurative pits—struggles and trials of various kinds—share similar characteristics. Both are deep, dark, confining, lonely, and downright scary places.

Through Joseph’s experience, though, I’ve learned to cease struggling and instead cry out to God from deep within the pit. I’ve also learned to wait patiently for God’s deliverance in this quiet captivity. No amount of clawing or climbing will bring my deliverance any quicker. Deliverance will come but only in His time.

Also, I enjoy intimate, unadulterated fellowship with God while in a pit. Because of the quiet confinement, I am more apt to hear His whispered words of comfort and peace.

Crying out to God for strength while you wait patiently for Him to deliver you is a principle you, too, can practice. And once practiced, you will see for yourself that you can not only survive but actually thrive while in the pit.

What are some ways you can respond differently while in your pits?

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Just like that, he was gone.

My heart skipped more than one beat. More like it didn’t beat. My five-year-old was walking beside me in the store, holding the cart with one hand. I bent down to tie my shoe, and when I looked up, he was gone. Vanished.

Panic was an understatement. I grabbed my purse, yanked my older son onto my hip, and left my cart behind to rush up and down aisles franticly.

“Cameron! Baby, where are you?”

People stared at me, and yet, not one offered to help. I couldn’t breathe. How could he vanish from my side while I tied my shoe? It wasn’t like I ignored him. That’s when I heard a voice over the intercom. “Can Cameron’s mom come to the service desk?”

I ran as fast as I could to the desk. There sat Cameron on the desk with a sucker. He extended his arms, and I scooped him onto the other hip.

“Baby, I just bent down to tie my shoe. Where did you go? Why would you leave me?”

He smiled and pressed his chubby fingers on my cheek. “I knew you’d come.”

Jesus told His disciples multiple times He would leave. But He also promised He would return. When the women arrived at the tomb and found it empty, they must have been crushed. Desperately, they sought out the Savior until confiding in a gardener that someone had taken their Lord. Then, suddenly, Jesus became clear to them. He was dead, but now He had risen. His promise kept. Jesus kept every promise perfectly.

Cameron wasn’t afraid when he was lost from me. He knew I’d come for him. Likewise, I’m not afraid as I wander this world, waiting. Jesus will return for me. Christ came to earth in the humblest of forms. He lived. He served. He was tortured and murdered. But then, He arose, and He will come for us, just as He promised. Be ready. Be prepared.

Wait with anticipation, for we do not know the day or hour, but we do know Christ will come.   

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Only one person knows how to carry out perfect parenting.

A Christian friend with breast cancer once asked me, “Why is God making me suffer so much?”

We had several conversations, and then I asked her, “Have you asked Him?”

“Yes, but He doesn’t answer me.”

“Do you read the Bible every day and pray? Are you honest with your heavenly Father?”

“Not really,” she said sadly.

Over the years, many friends and acquaintances who battled serious illnesses have sought me out because of my experience with a rare autoimmune disease which nearly took my life. During those five long years of fighting my body—my T-cells were devouring my muscles—I had good and bad days.

On one dark day, my diatribe went something like this: “Lord, You say You love me, and You’re my Father. I’m a parent too, and I would never allow my children to be hurt, injured, disappointed, or fail at anything they do. I would pave a smooth road without bumps, potholes, or detours. After all, doesn’t true love protect the beloved?”

But the Lord tells us His thoughts and ways are not ours. He’s the perfect parent and knows precisely what we need. He never makes mistakes. Over time, the path of my suffering produced a level of fellowship with the Lord I had not known. And I am convinced of His constant love and care through the presence and power of the Holy Spirit, despite my failings

As my friend reads and meditates on the Scriptures, she doesn’t receive clear answers to her whys. Why another surgery? Why chemo and radiation? Why did I get cancer in the first place?

But in seeking her heavenly Father’s thoughts and ways in His Word, she’s moving from despair to hope and from uncertainty to trust—even as she walks a rough road.

Are you facing a difficult problem? First, take it to your perfect Parent in prayer and wait for Him. Then, become acquainted with His thoughts and ways by reading the Bible, and your whys may shrink in size.

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Living here a bit south of the musical mecca of Nashville, we hear two songs most associated with the beautiful State of Tennessee: “Tennessee Waltz” and “Rocky Top.”

The “Rocky Top” source is evident to anyone who has tried to dig in a Tennessee ridge top. The soft limestone bedrock that lurks beneath the topsoil constantly chips off as the seasonal cycles of freezing and thawing attack the rock. The result is a constant slow-motion eruption of dinner-plate-size limestone out of the topsoil just waiting to eat your lawnmower blades and garden tillers. In fact, some say “Tennessee Waltz” refers to the annual spring dance Tennessee farmers suffer through to prepare their fields for planting.

In the twenty years we have lived here in our humble little ridge-top home in Middle Tennessee, we have certainly picked up our share of rocks. We have built walls, walkways, patios, a huge firepit, and garden borders with them. Not to mention replacing numerous lawnmower blades because of the ones we didn’t see in time.

Our Lord Jesus,while being a carpenter instead of a farmer, also had to deal with a massive rock. The fact that Jesus had been dead for three days probably didn’t help His situation. When He died on the cross and was laid in a tomb, the forces of darkness that had killed Him sealed Jesus’ tomb with guards and a large stone.

For all of Jesus’ life, angels supported Him during his trials. Now, as He took the sin of humanity upon Himself and its penalty of death, the angels (as well as God) withdrew. However, as the third day since His death on the cross dawns, Jesus—as prophesied—lives again!

Undoubtedly, Jesus could easily have removed the rock that blocked His former tomb. But He didn’t have to—an angel returned to roll the stone aside. And then sat on it. What better testimony to mankind that God has placed His glorious seal of approval on Jesus’ sacrifice?

God dealt with the rock that stood between Jesus and His glory. He can deal with the rocks in our lives just as effortlessly.

This Easter, will you let God roll away the stones in your life that stand between you and His glory?

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A friend once told me about a Thanksgiving Day when she was in her teens. A fire had destroyed her family’s home, forcing them to live in a chicken house. Her father worked in another town and could not be home for the holiday. The meal consisted of sauerkraut and wieners. At the time, it seemed a dismal day.

The following Thanksgiving found the family again living in a home. The friend’s father was present, and the table was laden with food. Now they could enjoy the material things they had missed the previous year.

However, that year they missed a family member. A tragic accident had killed her brother. My friend speaks of the sauerkraut and wieners Thanksgiving and realizes how truly happy she and her family were.

Knowing I am a child of the King causes my heart to rejoice and to release words of thanksgiving that bubble within me. How can I not be thankful? Jesus’ death and resurrection give me a source of abundant living.

Because Jesus did not remain in a cold, darkened tomb but arose, I can also rise daily to beautiful possibilities. Each morning, I am blessed to open my eyes and ears to the sights and sounds of life. I breathe in the life-sustaining air and remember it is a gift from God.

We often complain about things we do not have. We fail to thank God for the blessings He gives us daily. Turkey and all of the trimmings may not be on our Thanksgiving table, but sauerkraut and wieners can taste like a feast when shared with loved ones and touched by God’s love.

What are some things you can thank God for?

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Sometimes it’s hard to see. Hard to look past the things the world throws at us. Easier to comply than to fight.

Our Christian hearts grow weary as we struggle to fight against the world and its desire to force us to agree on its sinful nature. Now more than ever, finding a way to focus on Christ is important.

We can’t close our eyes to the things of this world, and, if the truth be known, we can’t battle every issue either. We are, after all, only human. Just because we cannot clearly focus on every issue does not mean we are poor Christians. It simply means we set personal boundaries and stick to them. Spend time in the Word, pray, and remember the battle is not ours to fight. God does that for us, but what is ours. . .is the command to be obedient, pray without ceasing, and be the example Christ asks.

We assume Paul is the author of Hebrews, and when he penned this letter, persecution continued. His desire to help believers stand firm and keep their eyes fixed on the Lord led to some heartfelt words: “For the joy set before him he endured the cross.” What prolific words. What joy could have possibly been reason enough for Jesus to endure the cross?

No one alive can grasp the kind of love entailed in the cross. That one man (and we call Christ a man at this point because He was flesh) would shoulder the sins of the world. Not just current sin, but sins of the past and sins of what was still to come. And He did it with “joy.” 

Imagine how difficult it was for Jesus to see. The sin of every person flashed through His mind with lightning speed. Try to take in the pain, the hurt, and the disappointment He must have felt as He took hold of this burden. Then imagine His doing so with joy. Outwardly, He was slaughtered, but inwardly He rejoiced in the success of His sacrifice. His love strengthened Him.

When you find it hard to see and hard to focus, remember that through the horrors of the cross joy emerged. Strengthen your heart. Set your example as Jesus did. Rejoice. For in the despicable shame of the cross came life.

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An experienced camper will have a plan, but the young campers didn’t expect torrential rains to dampen their region-wide camp fest.

As the sun began to set, arriving troops set up their campsites for the weekend. A few hundred tents dotted the acreage across the university campus. The girls looked forward to testing their new skills for primitive-style camping and cooking over the open fire. Each had packed their list of necessities.

We carefully planned activities to earn badges during this experience. I’ve always been a planner by nature, but having been a Girl Scout may have helped me learn to think and plan.

During the night, the rains came—and they kept coming. Rain dripped through the tent roofs, and puddles collected in the tents. Thankfully, our sleeping bags were on plastic tarps, and we had dug trenches around the outsides of the tents to help channel water away from us. 

We can follow the example that Jesus set when confronted by Satan in the desert. Jesus was ready to act and speak. He knew the Scripture and stood firm against the devil’s three temptations. Each time Satan tempted Him to put His desires first, Christ rebuked Satan with clear responses that aligned with God’s Word.

If we plan by studying the Scriptures and applying them to our lives, we can be ready to give the correct answers, stand firm, make decisions according to God’s will, and avoid going down the wrong path.

What Bible verses can you memorize to remember when temptation comes?

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A wave of sneezing washed over me.

As the violent sinus convulsions repeatedly shook me, part of my mind counted how many times my poor nose exploded. When the sneezing stopped at seven, I dismissed them. A measly seven was nowhere near my personal best of thirteen in a row.

I’m allergic to cedar and ragweed. Violently allergic. Unfortunately, I live in an area of Tennessee where cedars are prolific and predominant. On the earliest maps of this area, the land hereabouts is marked as “Cedar Forest.” In the years since, it hasn’t changed much.

Ragweed is an allergy of fall, usually tormenting us between August and mid-September. Cedars, however, are unique. They pollinate in the winter, usually on the coattails of a cold front. And they pollinate together, all the cedars in a particular area simultaneously sharing love. So if you’re allergic to them, it can make for a miserable couple of weeks.

Over the decades, I’ve often prayed for relief from my allergies, especially when they are at their worst. And for years, no answer came that I was spiritually aware of. Being spiritually aware was not necessarily something in which I excelled. God has often resorted to the proverbial two-by-four upside my head to drive home a particular point.

And then I read this verse—a verse I had read a hundred times before. Except that somewhere in my mind, my editor’s eyes discarded the “most excellent Felix,” and I read, “Everywhere and in every way, we acknowledge this with profound gratitude.” And that’s when God’s two-by-four whacked me again.

God has blessed me with good genes. I have been in good health almost all my life. From the time I had my tonsils removed at five years of age, I would live another sixty years before I entered a hospital for any procedure. That was for my cataract surgery last month. Except for run-ins with the usual childhood diseases, and the very occasional cold or bout with the flu, I have never been seriously ill.

And that’s why the allergy seasons tormented me. I felt so good the rest of the year. The two weeks every winter and fall were just the valleys I had to get through to appreciate the mountain tops of my otherwise good health.

Instead of complaining to God about my sneezing, I should have been on my knees, thanking God for the excellent health I otherwise enjoyed.

What do you need to thank God for today?

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Jesus’ gnarled family tree reminds me that mine is too.

My family tree is gnarled because of deep dysfunction. Within the last two generations, my lineage includes an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a prisoner. I was once embarrassed by this and kept mum about my ancestry until I studied Jesus’ genealogy. I discovered all sorts of sordid and sorry characters filled His family tree.

Abraham lied about his wife being his sister to save his own skin. Judah collaborated with his half-brothers to leave another brother, Joseph, to die in a cistern. Thankfully, they reconsidered and sold him to some traders. Rahab was a practicing prostitute. David killed Uriah after sleeping with Uriah’s wife and impregnating her. And Manasseh sacrificed his son on an altar he built for Baal. And that’s not all.

Biblical scholar Raymond Brown said, “The God who wrote the beginnings with crooked lines also writes the sequence with crooked lines, and some of those lines are our own lives and witness. A God who did not hesitate to use the scheming as well as the noble, the impure as well as the pure, men to whom the world harkened and women upon whom the world frowned—this God continues to work through the same mélange.”

And that’s the point. Despite the despicable and dishonorable behavior of some of Jesus’ kin, God remained faithful to His promise to bring the Messiah through them. God was devoted to these sinners and His Davidic agreement until the birth of Jesus consummated it. Our God is the perfect promise keeper.

Our families’ pasts do not define us. We don’t have to be ashamed of our lineage and those rascals therein. Yes, our family trees have broken and twisted branches (some more than others), but our sovereign God can graciously and gloriously straighten them through forgiveness, redemption, and restoration. This is the wonderful story He’s written in your past and writes in your present—and going forward.

How can you use your family’s gnarled tree to tell others of God’s love and forgiveness? 

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I love joyful endings.

My sons and I read an excerpt from a yearlong children’s Bible every night before bed.

Often, the story splits one account over several days. So I tell the kids to wait until tomorrow to find out what happens. I worry they think Naomi will be bitter forever, that Joseph will languish in prison for the rest of his days, and that Job will die abandoned and scraping his sores. But on the other hand, I can’t wait to show them that, despite Samson’s pitiful and weakened state, God will give him the strength to push down a building tomorrow.

I question my children—“Do you think God has a plan? Do you think He will look after this person?” I wonder how well I apply these teachings to my own life. Of course, knowing the end of the story, I can always answer yes. Victory will come. But when it is us in real life, things differ. In the middle of the struggle, after days or months of frustration with seemingly no change, victory is not so easy to declare.  

As I tell my young ones, we must return to the stories. Consider the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea. Consider the healings. Think about past successes and daily blessings in our own lives. Think about who God is and what He has promised to do. Stirring up our memories through Bible-based meditation, songs, reading, and conversation helps us hope in what we cannot yet see.

The Bible heroes of old were no more special or loved than we are. God’s grace hasn’t changed. He can still take weak, hopeless sinners and save them with His power and mercy.

Ask God to help you retain a childlike faith as you stack up life experiences that will help you mature in the Lord’s service.

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We enjoyed a free grace feast.

“Well, folks,” she said, “I have something to tell you.”

My husband and I celebrated our forty-sixth wedding anniversary at a nice restaurant. Moments before, we had placed our meal order with this pleasant woman. Figuring her news had something to do with an unavailable item, we waited expectantly.

She continued, “You’re really going to enjoy your food this evening. The couple sitting in the booth across the aisle paid for your meal. They didn’t want us to tell you until after they’d left.”

We had no interaction with the two younger diners who chose to bless us. I’ve seen posts on social media about pay-it-forward moments, but we had never experienced one. My mouth dropped open, and I saw my husband’s do the same. I’m sure we’ll remember this for a long time. Of course, I posted our surprise on social media and paid it forward to our lovely food server.

We didn’t do anything to deserve our blessing, nor did we expect it. God’s blessings to us sometimes come when we least expect them and without us deserving them, but His plans to do so are set well in advance.

God’s greatest blessing is salvation and a life lived to please Him. It’s as though He says, “Well, folks, I have something to tell you. I’m showing you My grace through Christ Jesus. He paid the bill so you can enjoy an everlasting feast with Me in heaven.”

I’m sure anyone would accept a free meal readily and gratefully. But even more important is to accept God’s gift of salvation with gratefulness.

Have you accepted God’s gift of grace?

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I had no idea how dark my world had become due to cataracts affecting my vision.

As I lay on the operating table, I could hear the surgeon conversing with the nurse assistants as they proceeded with the surgery on my right eye. I could smell the light perfume of one of the nurses and the mouthwash used by the surgeon. Mesmerizing swirls of color filled my vision in that eye. In a way, it was like a fluid version of the kaleidoscope I had as a child.

A Kaleidoscope was a tube between six inches and a foot long. It had mirrors and bits of colored glass on one end and a viewfinder on the other. By rotating the end that held the mirrors and colored glass, you could see an endless array of colorful geometric patterns. What I saw was like that, but it was a variety of shifting colorful swirls instead of the kaleidoscope’s angular shapes.

I was having cataract and glaucoma surgery. The surgeon placed a stint in my eye to relieve the increasing pressure from glaucoma and removed a cataract. They had performed the same surgery on my left eye two weeks earlier.

As I write this, both eyes are still recovering from the surgery. However, the difference in my vision is amazing. The world I see is bright and clean, and colors shine brilliantly. My neighbor’s truck is an entirely different shade of blue than I thought. I can’t wait for my full recovery so I can revel in the beautiful gift of my new eyes.  

In the same way that my eyes had grown increasingly dark, so too can sin darken my life. As the years go by, sin closes in around me, blocking out the light of the Son. My walk with Him grows wayward because I can no longer discern the path. Thank goodness He has forgiven me and paid for my sins on the cross—past, present, and future. Accepting God’s forgiveness and payment is like the surgery that reopened my eyes. Suddenly the world is again filled with His light—bright and clean—and the way to Him is clear.

Have you accepted His forgiving sacrifice for you? Are you walking in His light?

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My two-year-old granddaughter was guilty of giving in to temptation.

She stood on the step in the pool’s shallow end but inched her way to the deep end by clinging to the edge. We knew she would go underwater if she lost her grip on the deck. Her mother and I were there to save her if this happened. Because we loved her, we closely watched this little explorer. 

We are often like this with sin. We have the power through Jesus to overcome, but we still give in to our cravings, which entice us to dabble just a bit. Little by little, we inch deeply into the trap of sin and dangerous situations.

We never expect with our first action that sin will be so destructive. Instead, we suddenly become aware of our circumstances and wonder how we got to this place. We grip for dear life onto our marriage, children, health, self-respect, testimony, and anything that once gave us joy.

Thankfully, we are blessed with a heavenly Father who never takes His eyes off us but guards us with His love. Christ is our anchor, and He tethers us to His heart. Even if we let go of Him, He will never let go of us.

Instead, He supplies a way out so that we can endure our temptations. When we sink into the deep end of sin and call out to our Savior, He lifts us and places us back where we belong. But what began as exploration may take tears, sweat, and years to heal and restore fully. 

Sin will take us down a path we don’t want to travel and keep us longer than we want to stay. When we find ourselves inching that direction, we can call out to the One who knows us better than anyone. We can immerse ourselves in His love and hide His Word in our hearts. He will open our eyes and ears, helping us to remember all that is ours through Him. There is no sinful craving as splendid as His treasure.

What are some steps you can take to help you overcome temptation?

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My husband and I once learned how committing plans to God looked.

Our new house had Bible verses inscribed on its wooden frame. God’s words above doorways and windows and hidden under sheetrock and paint reminded us who owned the property.

Our new home took three years, three sets of drawings, and three builders to complete. We had our plans and our timetable, but God had something better in mind.

I grew up near the water. Relocating to Birmingham in 1992 forced us to leave behind our beloved Catalina 22 sailboat. We invested in a pontoon boat five years later to enjoy Alabama lakes. A weekend place on Lake Martin and twin jet skis soon followed. Unpacking boxes in Georgia in 2009, I declared, “No more vacation homes!”

We lost the internal battle five years later. I created a spreadsheet of more than one hundred properties to check out on Lake Sinclair, an hour away. Then a place closer to our Morgan County home popped up on the internet. On that same street appeared a For Sale sign on a property not listed on the internet. When I inquired about this unadvertised waterfront lot on Lake Oconee’s north end, our realtor explained, “That place is not for sale.”

She was wrong. It was for sale. God prepared it for us. We moved into the cabin on the lot, sold our house in Madison, and built an attached minimal main house. God puts His desires in our hearts and then fulfills them in His way and time.

I learned to commit my plans to my heavenly Father and trust Him to provide and bless beyond my wildest imaginations.

What are some ways you can commit your plans to the Lord?

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I discovered I could turn the corner to God’s will.

Twenty. Twenty-three. The first number refers to how many times I’ve moved in almost seven decades—back and forth from one state to another a few times, as well as several moves within one state or the other. The second number is the variety of jobs I’ve toiled in—not all gainfully to my chagrin (picking berries as a youngster, I may have eaten more than I put in the bucket), but thankfully all legally.

Having taken paths that seemingly led nowhere, I wondered where God’s will was in all of that? Did I follow His will? Did He direct me to turn one specific corner rather than another one?

Being married, most of the decisions weren’t mine alone. My husband and I prayed as we made the choices and felt we had God’s blessings as we went forward with each one. But nowhere did we see any clear handwriting-on-the-wall instructions, although I’ve heard some people do—and what a blessing that must be.

So, where does that leave a Bible-believing, God-trusting, Christ-belonging woman? I found something in God’s Word that reassured me: Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. Reading what Paul wrote to his friends in Thessalonica, I determined I could know God’s will.

God can show us exactly when and where to move—down to what avenues of employment we should pursue. But if that’s not how He works in our case, we can still know how to be fully in His will. We can turn the corner to joy, prayer, and thankfulness.

When you are in a quandary about whether something is God’s will, turn to the things you know are.

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“There’s no happy to it,” the woman snapped at the clerk, who had wished her a Happy New Year. The clerk meant well. Who’d have thought she’d get such a negative remark from saying Happy New Year?

I turned to the young girl behind the counter. “Sweetie, it’s been a hard year for everyone.” I handed her my store card. “You keep that pretty smile. It offers hope.”

The year 2020 was challenging, but it’s behind us. Now, there is hope in a New Year.

I remember the movie Ghostbusters II when negative thoughts and frustrations were so high that they overcame a city. Bad things began to happen. It took hope—the promise of all that was good—to restore the desire of a city to pull together and be happy again.

COVID pushed us to the brink of complete negativity. People couldn’t see anything positive in their future.

Christ told His disciples of His impending death. He reminded them that shortly they would not see Him. They would grieve and hurt, but later, He would return.

Jesus likened their grief to the pain of a laboring mother. At the moment, the pain is excruciating. But once the child was born, the mother rejoiced, and the pain was forgotten. Jesus later reminded them they would always experience trouble, but not to worry. He had overcome. In other words, hope. Things might get hard, but there is hope because Christ overcame the world.

We cannot hide from the world’s difficulties, but we can seek hope. There will always be hope because Jesus gave us that gift. I realize the significant loss felt during the pandemic of 2020, and many still endure the consequences. Some have suffered job loss, illness, and even deaths, but we cannot allow ourselves to remain stuck in hardship. Instead, we rally together, seek joy, and grasp the hope promised through Christ Jesus. He didn’t die in vain. He died so that we might have the hope of salvation, grace, and eternal life.

We feel the sting of hardship, but remember, Christ overcame. We will overcome as well. Stand tall, pull your shoulders back and step into a New Year with hope. Our God loved us so much that He gave His only Son.

Christ is our hope then, now, and forever. Do you have hope for the New Year?

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May the peace of Christ be with you, Love. That’s how she ended every email.

I lost my dear friend, Betty, this year. She was ninety-eight years old, but her heart was young. I looked forward to weekly emails from Betty. She was spry and funny, and she read ChristianDevotions.us daily. She would tell me if she disagreed doctrinally with a devotion, for Betty was well-versed in her Scripture study. Her diversity in denominations . . . not so much. Still, that line she wrote at the end of each email was one of the most powerful sentences I’ve ever read.

I watched as my Christmas tree slowly turned. Its lights cast a soft glow over our dimly lit living room. As the tree turned, a tiny ornament came into view. It was a handmade Christ child, wrapped in swaddling clothes, with the words The Peace of Christ hand-penned on a ribbon. I took the ornament in my hand, gently turned it over, and saw, With love, Betty.

If we have anything of joy during this time of year, it is a promise fulfilled. God promised the world a Messiah, and though He was not the Messiah people thought He should be, the love He brought changed everything. He was the light, the Word, the hope—the peace humanity needed. Christ was “Emmanuel”—God with us. God was with us!

Isaiah described Christ in his prophecy, and although the description was harsh and somewhat sad, it foretold the joy and forgiveness the Messiah would bring. It was hard to imagine that this prophecy could come to light, but Isaiah finished his description of the Messiah by saying, “the punishment that brought us peace was on Him.” The peace of Christ.

Christmas took on a new meaning for me. I’ve always appreciated the joy of Christmas, the gift of the Christ child, and the fulfillment of God’s promise. Still, this year I saw something different as I studied an ornament—the reality of the harsh burden and punishment Christ took so that I could have peace.

As the love and joy of Christmas surround you this year, remember that the little baby in the manger grew up to be your peace. What love. What sacrifice. What hope. Take hold of all that lies in Christ, and may the peace of Christ be with you.

(Merry Christmas in heaven, Miss Betty.)

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John was worried.

He was familiar with the many bright and creative students in the mission school where he taught. He also knew how their poor families struggled to keep their children in school. He was particularly worried about one of them: a dedicated student named Ahmad, a new believer. The gospel message was a part of the curriculum, and John had encouraged Ahmad to trust Christ. 

So, why the worry? The local culture stressed gratitude and respect for teachers. Because Christmas was soon, John feared Ahmad might overreach.

As John’s students lined up to present their gifts on the day before the holiday break, Ahmad approached him with a translucent seashell. John knew these unique shells were found only on a distant beach and were expensive, so he reasoned that Ahmad had probably walked far to find it. 

“Thank you, Ahmad,” John said. “It’s beautiful. You must have traveled a long way to get it.” 

Ahmad said softly, “The long walk is a part of the gift.”

Giving gifts is undoubtedly a personal idea. As Ahmad demonstrated, it’s not always about the object itself, which is precisely what occurred when God gave the world His ultimate Gift: Jesus Christ. As Ahmad’s special gift included personal sacrifice, Jesus’ sacrifice and death were also personal.

We’ll never fully understand the Lord’s physical and spiritual ordeal in dying for our salvation. Yet we know that His death was not the end but the beginning—a very personal sacrifice, to be sure, but one for our benefit and His glory.

How can you thank God for His gift during this Christmas season?

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When my beautiful firstborn daughter Sara was a baby, she had the sweetest disposition.

I worked the night shift at a local factory and regret to say I hated every moment of it. I was young and not looking for blessings in my situation then. I did not like leaving her at night and felt like a fish out of water in this environment.

One of the things that helped me get through those long eight-hour evening shifts (that felt like an eternity) was knowing I would arrive home to see my daughter’s precious face. When my shift ended at seven in the morning, I would typically find her waking up. Regardless of my frustrations from the night before, when I peeked over the side of her crib, she greeted me with the sweetest smile, and my worries faded away.

Sara is now all grown up but still has the sweetest smile. While I no longer work the night shift in a factory, frustrations and worries sometimes still attempt to steal my peace. Yet through the years, I have found much comfort in the pages of Scripture. No one can speak words of comfort like our Creator. He is the only one who knows just what we need to hear and when. God’s Word is a lamp for our feet and a light for our path.

After the death of my youngest daughter, Kristen, I spent many mornings with my Bible open, pouring my heart out to the Lord. In searching for answers, I realized that God is the answer. He preserved my life when I didn’t know if I could carry on. He is my Lifeline, and the comfort and courage I need is found in the Scriptures.

Like the sweet smile of a beloved child, God’s Word soothes the soul. It leads to salvation, brings light to our eyes, convicts us of sin, and teaches us how we should go. It even gives us comfort and hope in the darkest of days.

If your heart is heavy or you need direction, grab your Bible and get alone with your heavenly Father.

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I left the front blinds open so my dog Charlie could look out the window.

Charlie always patiently awaits my return from work or running errands. Whether I’m gone minutes or hours, I have not returned once and not seen her face in the window. Even though she doesn’t know how long I’ll be gone or exactly when I’ll return, she remains confident that I will return and focuses on reuniting with her master.

Witnessing Charlie’s patience and unwavering focus makes me question my preparedness for my own Master’s return. Jesus says He will come at an unexpected time, catching many unprepared. He advises us to be ready, remain faithful, and focus on achieving His will on earth.

But I’m often not ready. Consumed by the busyness of life and flooded with distractions and self-absorptions, we often lose focus and perspective. We forget or neglect our overarching mission: to love God and others and to share the love of Christ. When this happens, we can recenter ourselves through prayer, Bible reading, and worship. Prioritizing God through time spent with Him, we reorient our focus to His kingdom and righteousness and ready ourselves for His return.

Just as I experience great joy in seeing Charlie waiting patiently for me, Jesus, too, will be delighted to see us remaining faithful and watchful as we eagerly wait for Him.

What steps can you take to be ready to meet Jesus?

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The trail of multi-colored plastic storage totes, large cardboard boxes, and industrial storage bags stretched from the storage shed where they lived most of the year to the front door of our house. This was the first step of the annual transformation of our humble abode from its typical January through Thanksgiving appearance into the Christmas Holiday Winter Wonderland it becomes for December.

Coming out of storage were dozens of feet of pine garland for windows and doors (inside and out, of course), holiday wreaths, electric candles for every window in the house, Christmas knick-knacks of every shape and form handed down over three generations and two continents, and amazingly natural looking artificial Christmas trees in their six-foot long boxes. Shiny colorful glass ornaments in balls, teardrops, icicles, and other round shapes that looked as if they would be more at home on top of the Kremlin than hanging from a tree filled totes. And lights—strings and strings and more strings of Christmas lights. Miniature lights, LED lights, twinkling larger C7 and C9 bulbs. Lights for inside and outside. There were boxes of angels and reindeer, holiday bears and gnomes, plastic snowflakes, Moravian Stars, and at least five different nativity scenes. I’m sure your house has something similar for the Christmas season.

We decorate to celebrate Christmas, obviously. But beyond that, we prepare for the coming of the King. As we arrange and decorate our homes for the birth of Jesus, we also symbolically prepare our hearts and lives for the second coming of the King of Kings.

Two thousand years ago, give or take, God prepared humanity and, more specifically, the Israelites, for the wonderful birth of Jesus, the Messiah. We remember that preparation in transforming our homes each holiday season as we prepare them for Christmas Day. So too, we must prepare our lives, minds, and hearts for the Second Coming, that glorious moment when Jesus comes back to us.

As you decorate your home for this upcoming Christmas, look inside yourself. Is your heart ready, your mind renewed, and your life prepared for the return of the King?

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While watching home videos, I saw footage from the early 1990s when I was learning to walk.

As my cheery blonde pigtailed self excitedly attempted to walk alone, my loving and watchful dad remained close by my side. When my legs trembled out of control, he held my hands until I regained my balance. When I lost my footing and tumbled over, he lifted me up, assured me I was okay, and encouraged me to walk again. Never once did he leave me alone.

Just as my dad watched over me as I learned to walk, our heavenly Father watches over us as we learn to walk with Him and work to fulfill His purpose for our lives. Not only does He steady us when we lose our balance, He also helps us up when we stumble and fall, readying us to continue down the path He has called us to travel.

No matter how many times we trip or tumble, God is there to pick us up, recenter our hearts and minds, and encourage us to continue down our path. The psalmist reminds us that God does not sleep but continually watches over us. Our God is always present, watchful, loving, and available.     

When we feel unsteady or have fallen and feel unable to get up, all we need to do is reach for and cling to our heavenly Father. He will ready, steady, and accompany us on all of life’s journeys. No matter how many times we stumble, He will help us back up. Like the good, loving Father He is, He will never leave us on our own.

How can you depend on God to help you when you stumble?   

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I was four years old when it happened.

Friends and I took turns on the various swings and chattered away when I forgot my mom’s constant warning: “Never walk in front of the swings; always walk behind them as far as you can get.”

I walked in front of a swing and POW. I got kicked in the mouth. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, my face hurting with a pain worse than anything I could remember.

The house with the swing set belonged to a plastic surgeon and his wife. The doctor stayed calm as he whispered to me to hold the ice against my mouth. He placed me in the passenger seat of his car and drove the short distance to his office. Then he carried me in, all the while speaking softly and calmly to me.

“Have you watched your mom sew? That’s just what I’m going to do—sew up where you hurt, so it gets all better. Hold as still as you can, and this won’t hurt a bit.”

He was right. It didn’t hurt then. But when the sutures touched a part of my face that wasn’t numb, it tickled. My mouth hurt later—enough to help me listen carefully to my parents and obey them. I also learned to listen carefully to God.

Our parents’ instructions show us how to avoid being hurt and the correct way to live. God also wants to keep us from error and lead us in the right way. He wants us to read His Word and get to know His Son, Jesus.

When have you ignored warnings or instructions from your parents and God and been hurt? What decisions are before you? Seek wise guidance from God’s Word.

How can you avoid getting kicked in the mouth?

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North, South, East, and West. No matter where I turned, I enjoyed the beautiful views of Dublin and Wicklow.

The countryside, sea, and mountains surrounded me. I had a eureka moment and asked my daughter the all-important question: “Do you think there’s a way to get to this flat path with the views, other than by the route we took?”

“This is the reward, Mum!” she replied.

These beautiful, breathtaking views were my reward for the uphill trudge. As my daughter knows, I love to walk, but I would avoid hills if I could.

The writer of Proverbs says our diligence reaps rewards. Yet often we would rather avoid things like an uphill climb. Walking an uphill path takes more effort than walking a flat one. We may have to push beyond our comfort zones. But when we reach the top, our sense of satisfaction—along with the view—makes the effort worthwhile.

Who wouldn’t like to shed a couple of extra pounds without cutting back on tasty treats? Wouldn’t it be great if we could bypass the exercise regime? On my visits to Spain, I wish I could speak better Spanish, but have yet to study the language.

To improve or learn a skill requires effort and determination. We admire photos of the graduate in cap and gown, but the picture doesn’t show the hours spent preparing. Healthy marriages require cultivation, and friendships require investment. Time invested in our children reaps rich harvests.

Diligence reaps rewards in any area. God can empower us to take the steps we are trying to avoid that will lead us to our goals.

Whatever your hands find to do, do it with all your might, keeping your focus on the panoramic views awaiting at the top of your uphill climb.

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The power was out again.

The monitor went dark, and the fans that kept the computer’s processors, hard drive, and memory modules cool slowly spun down. The television on the corner of the desk, which had just been showing an episode of the old Andy Griffith Show (muted, of course, since I knew the dialogue to every episode by heart), also went dark. All the convenient electric contrivances that filled our home—ceiling fans, refrigerators, freezers, and the washing machine—drifted to a whispered hush. Throughout the house, silence suddenly settled in every room.

This wasn’t the first time we had lost power. Here in Middle Tennessee, we live an hour south of the bright lights and twangy slide guitars of country cosmopolitan Nashville. And out here on the ragged edge of the local power grid, we never take electricity for granted. We live in a beautiful spot, high on a ridge that gradually slopes down to the meandering Duck River, but it is rural with a capital R. Or as my cousin, Nancy, once said upon her first visit: “Good grief, you live out in the boondocks!”

She was right. Our television and internet come in via satellite dish, and the electric power is off more than it is on, but not by much. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but sometimes it disappears for minutes or hours, and twice, it left us for several days. So we have learned to keep candles, oil lamps, and matches close at hand.

Contrast that with our wonderful, almighty God’s awesome, unfailing, and limitless power. Consider the holy power that split the Red Sea for Moses, stopped the sun in the sky for Joshua, let Peter walk on water, and raised eight people from the dead—among them various saints and even Jesus Himself. Not to mention the small feat of assembling all creation in just six days.

And yet, for all that, God’s power is mightiest in the smallest things: an answered prayer, faith when I was faithless, hope when I was hopeless, provision in my desperation, and direction when I was lost. In fact, God manifests His power the most when I am at my weakest. God’s power is always dependable and always on.

How can God’s loving power fill your life with change today?

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There was a time when I had no permanent address other than a post office box.

I moved from one housesitting job to another, occasionally “sofa-surfing” at friends’ homes to fill in the gaps. Then one morning I hit rock bottom. I was housesitting out of town. A bag of barley and a bag of millet were the only food available. I had a bookkeeping job due in two days, which I was counting on to buy food and gas. I had just enough gas in the car to deliver the job, not enough to get home.

That morning, my laptop crashed and died. To say I was desperate would be an understatement. I cried until I had no tears left, and I fell into an exhausted sleep. When I awoke, I realized where the solution to my difficulties lay. I opened my Bible and found this verse, which assured me God would guide my steps: Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. I prayed for God to help me see the next step.

Two hours later, the letter carrier delivered two envelopes addressed to me. I prayed before I opened them. Each of the envelopes contained a check. Neither of the senders had money to spare. Both said the Lord told them to send the specific amount to me.

A third good friend helped me to select a reasonably priced laptop. The two checks added together were just enough. He rescued my data from the dead unit and also fed me.

I delivered the job on time, my client paid in cash, and I filled my tank with gas to return to where I was housesitting. I had just enough funds to carry me until the next job came along and the one after that.

There are times in life when we cannot see the horizon. We only have enough light to take the next step.

If you have hit rock bottom, lift your eyes of faith and take one more step of trust in God.

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“Who came up with this idea?”

I grunted as I smacked yet another mosquito lunching on my forearm. My daughter’s attempts at smashing the already bent portion of one tent rod into the other went on perpetually. Then comically, the other side popped out the second she got the current one in. Finally, at my wit’s end, I called for a truce with the tent. My grumbly group of four mosquito-bitten children stood at the ready for their fearless leader’s next command.

“I am about to do something drastic, guys. I will read the tent’s instructions.”

Why did we fail so miserably? We always had what we needed—the right number of hands and the right amount of desire to see the task through. We even had the folded, unopened instruction sheet. However, we were not communicating and moving as a unit. Instead, we all did our best in the way we thought was best, never consulting the tent manufacturer’s directions.

Churches sometimes do this. All the members do what they think is best instead of what God instructs. This also happens when we forget the Lord desires to teach us because He is our loving and kind God. Instead, we try with all our might to solve our problems. He doesn’t want to see us struggle without Him. We have the instruction manual on how to do life. We just need to open it. 

When we open God’s Word, we will be delighted to read that we have a loving Father who is for us, not against us. His instructions bring us life, not heartaches.

Is it time to call a truce on the battles in your life and ask the Creator for His plan? Then lift your soul to the Lord and rest because you can trust Him to instruct you in all areas of your life.

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Well versed in acceptable and unacceptable behavior, my sister’s grandson committed a definite no-no.

Quickly looking around, he realized Nanny witnessed the dreadful deed. Never at a loss for words, he said, “Now, Nanny, don’t you talk to me about Jesus!”

Isn’t that the way we adults often respond as well? We know what we should and shouldn’t do. We’ve heard it often enough. We’ve experienced the consequences of past poor choices. Yet we find ourselves repeatedly drawn to the forbidden.

We know when we mess up. However, we don’t like to face the reality of our misdeeds, particularly from those who witness them. Without a doubt, we’re guilty, but we don’t want to hear about it.

Nevertheless, we must face our sins and repent of them to experience God’s plan for our lives. The bad news: We can never live as we should on our own. The good news: If we know Jesus as our personal Savior and Lord, we have God’s Holy Spirit to guide us and live through us. Then, and only then, can we make the right choices. Then, and only then, will we no longer have to worry about who witnesses our actions.

As the apostle Paul acknowledged, our struggle against temptation will continue as long as we live on this earth. However, we can join him as he declared in Romans 7:25, “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

Thank God for forgiving your sins, including your self-defeating desire to hide those sins from Him.

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At one time, gray was reserved for utility sheds, janitor closets, and garage floors.

Once regarded as the palette of maintenance and utility, gray has been elevated to a chic, cool, color that neither offends nor defines. With shades like dove, mist, or cloud, gray has become the new face of neutrality.

Neutrality is defined as the absence of decided views, strong feelings, or expressions. It is not aligned with anything. Neutrals have become the backdrop of choice for homes, walls, and spaces waiting to be defined by prospective residents as they begin a new chapter with fresh hopes and dreams.

By contrast, God’s Word is colorful and alive with decided views, strong feelings, and expressions. It reveals the truth that saves, heals, and transforms—but also offends and divides. We are exposed as God’s truth becomes a mirror that reflects and reveals the innermost thoughts and intentions of our hearts which are laid bare before God.

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, He asked His disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist. Others say Elijah, and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” When Jesus asked them who they thought He was, Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

As Jesus spoke to His disciples, the questioning narrowed. It became personal. Jesus’ question invites and confronts each of us to answer and explore the heart of the gospel: His deity, sovereignty, and authority. Do we acknowledge Jesus as Lord of our lives? Do we reject the truth? Maybe we sidestep the question and leave it for another day.

Acknowledging and sharing that we are sinners in need of a Savior is a message that can offend a culture that cancels what it finds uncomfortable. But our faith reminds us that Jesus tells us who He is when He says He is the way, truth, and life. No one can get to the Father except through Him.

Jesus came for us. The eternal question lingers for each of us to answer: “Who do you say I am?” There’s no gray area. How will you respond?

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“The sky is falling! The sky is falling!” screamed Chicken Little.

The occasion of this frantic pronouncement involved an acorn falling on the bare head of the aforementioned hen. And if we watch any of the mainstream media, we might certainly think the sky is indeed falling.

Asteroids are my personal favorite. Hardly a day goes by in my news feed without a screaming headline proclaiming that some chunk of space rock is hurtling toward earth. “Toward” is the operative word in the vast majority of these cases. Asteroids fly past us all the time. Only on the rarest of occasions does one of the random space rocks actually interact with our planet.

Yellowstone is another favorite. The supervolcano that lurks underneath the national park perpetually seems on the verge of erupting and destroying us all. If it’s not Yellowstone, then on any given slow news day, we might read “The Poles Are Thawing!” or “The Glaciers Are Shrinking,” or even “The Sea Levels Are Climbing!”

Lately, some headline-worthy events have reached out and touched us. Solar storms have pummeled earth, but, except for the odd lost satellite or two and some spectacular northern lights, they have been much ado about nothing . . . so far. And then, practically everyone on the planet knew someone whom the COVID pandemic stole from them.

The frequency of earthquakes in the New Madrid Seismic Zone rose three hundred percent above average during the summer of 2022. Since the New Madrid Earthquakes of 1811–1812 are the biggest in American history, and, since we happen to live in the New Madrid Seismic Zone here in Middle Tennessee, that got my attention. The New Madrid Missouri Earthquake of 1811 was so mighty it caused the Mississippi River to run backward.

And yet, in the face of all these “the sky is falling” exhortations, Jesus tells us simply, “Do not be afraid.” In fact, the Bible repeats that simple thought over and over in thirty verses! Do not fear, do not be discouraged, do not worry, and simply trust in the Lord are repeated themes.

We can be sure we will continue to hear the sky is falling with increasing frequency, but we have the umbrella of our Lord’s promise repeatedly, stating that we should be at peace and not fear. Stand under His protection when the Chicken Little’s in your life start to squawk.

What fear do you harbor that you need to give to God?

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One sunny afternoon when our girls were young, our family spent some time at our friend’s house, enjoying their beautiful swimming pool.

As I stood in the shallow water chatting, my daughter Amanda inched her way out of the shallow end and headed to the deeper end of the pool. When I looked down, I saw my sweet girl’s big, brown eyes looking up at me from under the water. I will never forget that moment. I immediately reached down and pulled her to safety. Thinking about this makes my heart skip a beat. A loving parent will do anything to rescue their child from danger.

Chapter 22 of 2 Samuel is a song of praise David sang to the Lord who had delivered him from the hand of his enemies and of Saul. He felt as if waves of death swirled around him and the torrents of destruction overwhelmed him. Yet he called to the Lord. He was confident God would rescue Him.

I do not remember a time when I ran or sought refuge from a flesh-and-blood enemy who wanted to take my life. I do, however, remember times when I felt as though I would drown in pain, sorrow, and difficult circumstances. In those dark and tumultuous seasons, I shifted my focus back to God and remembered His faithfulness to me in the past. Trusting His promises, I believed He would restore my joy and put a song of praise on my lips.

When we feel as though we are sinking in the circumstances of life or the deep waters of fear, sorrow, and regret, we can have hope. As my sweet daughter did, we can look up and give our circumstances to Jesus. God will reach down and draw us out of those deep waters.

How can you let God restore you? Will you trust Him to do it?  

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I tried to tell them, but they doubted it even though it was true.

I remember trying to explain to my family how to pronounce a certain title. I tried hard to show them where they were wrong, but to this day, we would still probably disagree if I brought up the topic. I laugh when I think about it. A silly and trifling thing, but it’s a good memory.

Jude’s instruction to present and future readers about how ungodliness will become more widespread in the latter days is a source of instruction we can still apply to our walk with Christ. We are called to mediate between God and others—to use God’s Word to preach, instruct, correct, and rebuke. Although Christ has warned us not to give the sacred to dogs or pearls to pigs, we are also told to show mercy to those who doubt the truth.

Fear has a way of making us prefer a comfortable lie rather than a challenging truth. We should mercifully and lovingly help those who doubt the truth of God’s Word and inspire those who are weak in their faith.

Keep working on interacting with others and being both patient and merciful with them. Seek the word of the Lord and delight yourself in Him.

What relationships do you need to work on?

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Precious jewelry can be created in a laboratory.

Emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds give special meaning to some. They may symbolize wealth, success, friendship, or marriage. The color alone has a special meaning. We buy birthstones to match our birth month.

After going through a controlled process, involving pressure and heat, a lab-created stone can look identical to a natural gem. I am told a jeweler has to look closely to tell the difference. We wear these precious jewels on our fingers, toes, and ears. We also like to buy them as gifts for those precious ones in our lives.

As I thought about the process a lab-created stone goes through before becoming a beautiful jewel, I thought of Christians as we endure fiery trials and temptations while God creates us in the image of Christ.

We are in God’s laboratory, being created into a distinguished jewel of His making. While there may be a little heat and pressure during the creating process brought on by trials, this only makes us shine brighter. Let’s not forget the price Jesus paid so we could be one of His own.

Because we keep God’s commandments and serve Him, He calls us His peculiar treasure above all others. Won’t you trust Him today to form you?

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On July 8, 1944, twenty-two-year-old Corporal Jack Brown of Company G, 2nd Battalion, 24th Regiment, 4th Marine Division, was on the island of Saipan as a part of the ongoing invasion and battle to wrest that island from the Japanese army. World War II raged, and Saipan, one of the Northern Mariana Islands in the central Pacific, was the latest battlefield in the United States’ war with Japan.

The Battle on Saipan was in its closing stages, the Japanese having been pushed back to a series of caves on the flanks of Mount Marpi. Corporal Brown was leading his machine-gun squad in clearing one of these Japanese-held caves when an enemy sniper took his life.

In the ongoing confusion of battle for the cave, Brown’s dog tags and all his remaining identification were lost. When the search and recovery teams cleared the battlefield in the aftermath, Brown became an “unknown,” officially “missing in action.” His unidentified remains were labeled as “X-30”—another anonymous United States Marine who gave his life for his country.

Corporal Brown’s unidentified body traveled first to a shallow grave in Saipan, then was reinterned in 1948 at the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial in the Philippians. He was not, however, lost to his family.

The Virginia Beach native was remembered by succeeding generations of the Brown family. Family members handed down stories at reunions that kept the memory of “Uncle Jack” and his sacrifice alive. They hoped and prayed that someday he would come home. They even donated maternal and paternal DNA.

And then, on March 29, 2022, a miracle occurred. The anonymous remains—lost for over seventy-five years and labeled simply as X-30—were discovered to have testable DNA. And that DNA belonged to Corporal Jack Shelton Brown, USMC. For the Brown family, Uncle Jack was finally coming home. On Saturday, August 13, they laid him to rest in Virginia Beach with full military honors. Generations of Browns attended.

It has taken me decades to see how the Lord’s hand has worked in my life to bring me where I am today. And yet His plans cross centuries and millennia. All generations, the psalmist tells us.

While the Lord has graciously given us an outline of how His plans for humanity will end in glory, He has yet to reveal His ways of doing so. All I can do is live my daily life by serving Him. In truth, I fail at this as much as I succeed, but I know His love for me endures forever. And so, I keep striving to make the effort.

Is your daily walk with the Lord worthy of His enduring love and the wonderful plans He has woven for you?

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The downtown river surged inches from the car.

Traffic cones blocked our way. Beyond the barrier, murky water lapped at the sidewalks in front of the businesses. I sighed and searched my mind for an alternative route. We’d only lived in the small town for a few months, and I didn’t have a GPS or smartphone at the time. How was I going to get my son to preschool?

A small voice piped from the backseat, “That looks dangerous! I want to see more dangerous stuff!”

I wanted to run from the danger and saw only problems: cars washed away, carpets soaked, businesses lost, schools canceled. I was filled with anxiety. My son was filled with excitement. He was safe in his car seat. His mother was at the wheel, and he was ready for a new adventure. In the fast-moving water, he saw a place to sail boats, puddles to jump in, and sticks to play with.

Now my preschooler and his older brother are in high school. Every day is another opportunity to let go as I release them into adulthood. The danger of the flood seems small compared to the dangers that surround my boys and me now. I want to strap them into their car seats and take them back home, but I must let go.

I need the mindset of a preschooler. Instead of focusing on the dangers before me, I need to focus on the opportunities. Instead of anxiety, I should be filled with excitement. God is in control. He’s ready to lead all of us into a new adventure. He has a plan for me and a plan for each of my sons as the prophet Jeremiah reminds us.

Are you focused on the dangers in front of you? Do you feel as if you’re drowning in anxiety? God wants to take your worry and fear and give you His excitement for all the opportunities in front of you. He has a plan for you.

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Thinking I was well into my twenty-three-minute exercise workout, I pushed the pause button on the TV remote to see how many more minutes remained until I could fling myself on the couch.

My strength had run out, weariness had set in, and quitting seemed like an excellent option. Backing out of my commitment to get in shape was looking like an attractive option as well. My temptation to quit became an embarrassment when I realized I was only eight minutes into the routine.     

We can become impatient while en route to our goals, overly anxious to reach the end. If we’re too focused on our destination, we may not realize that through the process of waiting, we’re building strength, perseverance, and character. I suspect God is more interested in what we learn along the way than the result itself.          

Waiting on God for answers is more challenging than waiting for an exercise program to end, especially if it’s a long wait. Imagine what Abraham and Sarah experienced while waiting for Isaac, the son God promised them. They took matters into their own hands after waiting twenty-five years for God’s plan A to come to pass and instead activated Plan B, which brought forth Ishmael.         

After a long wait, it can be tempting to press the pause button, throw in the towel, or take matters into our own hands. But Plan A is well worth waiting for if we’ll only be patient. The word wait is the Hebrew word qawah and means to expect, to patiently wait, to hope.         

God keeps His promises, and His plan is perfect. While you're waiting on God, be on the lookout for the answer and patiently expect the fulfillment of the promise that’s on the way.           

As you wait, be strong and take heart. God is a God of suddenness and surprises. It might seem as if He's waiting for the last minute, but He's never late.

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“But, Mom, do I have to?”

Whining never did me any good. When Mom said, “Get up,” I knew to get up. When she said “Go,” I knew to go. With time, I learned she had good reason for those firm commands. I needed to get to school on time. I had a doctor’s appointment. Sunday school began in an hour.

Whatever the circumstance, she was helping me develop a disciplined life. Mom would probably have enjoyed more sleep herself. However, she knew the importance of my childhood obligations and personal growth. Therefore, I got up and went. Usually, I knew where I was going and why, but not always.

After Saul encountered Jesus on the Damascus Road, Jesus told him to get up and go. Because of Saul’s temporary blindness, he required help. Nevertheless, he went. Jesus told Saul where he was going, but Saul had to wait on why.

In the meantime, God told Ananias to go minister to Saul. Ananias knew Saul’s reputation all too well and, quite frankly, wanted nothing to do with the man. Who could blame him? Many believers who encountered Saul never lived to talk about it. Nevertheless, God commanded Ananias to go, so Ananias went.

God continues to call His people to get up and go. Sometimes we know where; sometimes we don’t. Sometimes we know why; sometimes we don’t. Whether we understand or not, our all-knowing God remains in control and acts in love to lead us in the right direction. We can trust God to show us His will in His way and in His time.

Will you claim the power of God’s Holy Spirit and faithfully follow? When God says, “Go,” will you go?

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My wife is going to kill me, I thought to myself.

The grass in our yard, a sickly-looking yellowish olive under the brutal July sun, crunched under my feet as I lugged the water hose to where Charlotte’s garden struggled against the unrelenting heat.

For the last three weeks, my wife Charlotte has been in Germany, the land of her birth. It has been her first trip back since she first came to the United States at age twelve. It has been a magnificent trip for her and her dear friend Irmi as they’ve toured Charlotte’s hometown of Augsburg and other sites in Bavaria and greater Germany. As I write this, Charlotte and Irmi are in Munich, ready to board their flight back to the United States. In twenty-four hours, she’ll be back in Middle Tennessee.

And therein lies the problem. The last three weeks have been scorchingly hot here in Maury County, Tennessee. We’re about forty miles south of Nashville. And despite my grandson Caleb’s and my best nightly efforts at keeping the plants hydrated, Charlotte’s vegetable garden and beautiful flowers show definite signs of heat distress. It has just been too dadgum hot.

Charlotte had been particularly apprehensive about her precious plants while she was gone. And while I know she trusted Caleb and me to water them, she also had a plan B. On at least three occasions over the last three weeks, I’ve had well-meaning family and friends call or drop me a text on “welfare checks.” These were just to ensure Caleb and I weren’t starving and the house was still standing. And, of course, they would ask, “And oh yeah, how’s the garden?”

My spiritual garden needs watering as well. The affairs of day-to-day life can easily keep me from being in the Word daily. Even though I have a routine of reading a Bible chapter daily every morning to start my day, outside influences and pressures attack that time.

One morning, I opened my Bible and realized three days had passed since I last opened it. Three days! The words of our Lord are the seeds of my spiritual life. They are life itself. I must plant and nurture them and, most of all, guard against Satan’s persistent efforts to steal them from me. I wish I could say I won every battle, but I can’t. But I keep trying even when I fail, nurturing that precious garden in my heart.

How is your spiritual garden growing?

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After searching for years for an affordable home, Nick and I finally found one.

Although small, it was perfect for us. Nothing excited us more than the prospect of moving into our new home, unpacking, hanging pictures, and making it our own.

Before we could move in, several items required attention. The chipped bedroom walls needed a fresh coat of paint. The carpet needed cleaning, dusty cabinet shelves needed a hefty scrubbing, dim lightbulbs needed replacing, and left-behind possessions of the previous owners needed discarding. Although the lengthy to-do list overwhelmed us, we enjoyed the reward of finally being able to settle in.

“I want to stay here forever,” I exclaimed to Nick. But I had to remind myself that this wonderful home God had provided was only a temporary dwelling. My forever home was elsewhere.

When I contemplate being reunited with my Creator, dwelling in His house, gazing on His beauty, and worshipping Him for all eternity, I’m left speechless. Heaven is the home I will never want to leave.

As I reflect on the day I will enter my eternal dwelling place, I’m reminded of the many home improvements my heart needs in the meantime. Such reparations are far more crucial than any I could perform on my physical home since they have implications not only in this life but also in the life to come.

Scrubbing out the bitterness from my heart, I must forgive those who have wronged me. Replacing the windowpanes of my eyes, I strive to see those around me with Christ’s eyes and to love them as He does. Swapping out the dim lightbulbs in my soul with those of much higher wattage, I desire to act as a bright light for Jesus in our world.

As I trust the Holy Spirit’s good work in me and continue to seek and emulate Him, I know the renovations of my heart will not be in vain.

Does your heart, like mine, need home improvements? Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the areas needing some servicing and trust His good work in you, which will not cease until you’re called home.

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One time I pushed my kids down a mountain—in a stroller of course.

The rest of my party had gone off to hike trails I knew even my amazing double BOB couldn’t handle, so I was on my own. I had to get my toddler down to the creek bed and give him the chance to throw some rocks, so my toddler, my three-month-old, and I set out. 

The path wasn’t bad for a while. We enjoyed the greenery and cool, mild weather. Then came some rocks and bumps. Then it got steep. Next came some fallen trees. Finally, it became steep and rocky and had more fallen trees.

I could see the water. I’d come this far. I knew I could make it the rest of the way. With much heaving and heavy breathing, I did. But my toddler decided he didn’t want to throw rocks and immediately got back into the stroller. Now I had to get back to the top. 

When my group found me, they laughed at my craziness, hoisted my stroller above their heads, and carried it back up the cliff to even ground. I followed, insisting I could have done it myself—while feeling relieved and rather foolish at the same time. It’s always been difficult for me to accept help. I feel as if it’s an inconvenience.

I think God knew people struggled with helping and being helped, and that’s why He guided Paul to tell us to bear each other’s burdens. But He didn’t tell us not to let others bear ours. I get to help others, but I should also let them help me. We all need help. That’s why Jesus came.

God wants us to give and receive help with grace, for it’s a gift to help others and to let them help us.

Think of some ways you might bear someone’s burdens. Then, think of some ways you could let others help you. 

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Nancy’s mother died when Nancy was only six months old.

Nancy has no memories of her mother. Her dad remarried, and eventually, he and Nelly, his second wife, had a daughter. As the girls grew and became young teens, the stepmother negatively compared Nancy to Karen, her stepsister.

Nelly talked about how beautiful and special Karen was while she told Nancy such things as she needed a nose job. Nancy’s father never took her side but remained silent when the taunting occurred.

Years later, when Nancy was an adult and had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, she remembered the mental abuse she suffered when her stepmother compared her with her younger sister. One day, she was feeling like a second-class citizen, but the Lord gave her loving encouragement.

In God’s silent words, He told Nancy to take her finger and write her name down her right side, one letter under the other. Next, she was to draw a heart beneath the letters. She did as the Spirit instructed. God lovingly assured her this was His heart for her and that He loved her with unconditional love.

At times, we may all feel like second-class citizens. Perhaps our skin is a different color from those living around us. Maybe, the work we do is considered a lowly trade and not as important as the career of others. Or perhaps our education ended with grade school or high school.

If we have asked Jesus Christ into our lives, we are children of the King. In His family, no second-class citizens exist.

Today is a perfect day to become a member of God’s family in which all citizens are first-class.

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The wrongs done to us by others can sometimes agitate us beyond the norm.

These wrongs pester and harass us, making us lose control and then look like a fool in the process. I remember a time when I had to deal with people like this. They pestered and poked and prodded me continuously, and it came to the point where I thought I couldn’t take it anymore. I finally exploded.

There are times when prudence must set in. If we lose control and act in the flesh, not only do we cause ourselves and others harm, making them look bad, but we also don’t exalt the Lord.

As servants of Christ and soldiers of the cross, we must walk by the Spirit so we won’t be tempted to satisfy the desires of the flesh. In such times, we should remember that just as Christ showed mercy at the moments before He was crucified, we should be patient and merciful with others so that they will be convicted of sin and accept Christ as Lord and Savior.

Sometimes, the Lord will send difficult people for us to love, and He wants us to love them as He has loved us in our transgressions and rebellion. Mercy, patience, kindness, and forgiveness are fruits we should continue to cultivate. If we allow bitterness to take root, we may not receive God’s grace.

Jesus said those who are merciful will be shown mercy. What are some steps you can take to show mercy and patience toward others?

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The new Interstate 65 overpass bridge near our home has been under construction seemingly since the Spanish-American War.

About forty-five minutes south of Nashville, Tennessee, this Interstate exit that connects with Bear Creek Pike was never one of Tennessee Department of Transportation’s finer moments.

Engineers had to sandwich the exit ramps and overpass bridge in the original interstate construction into a very awkward space, shoehorning them between a cemetery, a pipeline right of way, a substantial creek, and a gas station/convenience store. The results weren’t pretty. Bear Creek Pike actually curved under the interstate bridge. Because of that bend, you couldn’t see what was coming from under the bridge when you came off the Interstate exit ramps and stopped to turn on Bear Creek Pike. Major accidents were common. Then a few years ago, a truck stop was built at the exit, adding a constant flow of eighteen-wheelers to an already dangerous situation.

Finally, the county, state, and DOT decided the infamous I-65 Exit 46 would get a makeover. As I said, that feels like it was a few centuries ago since we’ve been dodging orange barrels and negotiating wild lane changes for decades.

One day was worse than usual. I pulled onto Bear Creek Pike and headed toward the interstate, only to be greeted by a blocking row of the ubiquitous orange barrels and a sign that read, “Road Closed. Find Alternate Route.” No helpful detours or even an arrow suggesting which way to go. Just “Road Closed.”

I can’t tell you how often I’ve run into a similar proverbial road sign in my often-wayward life. A sign that would flash in my brain like a neon sign: “Road Closed. Find Alternate Route.” And I’m embarrassed to tell you how many times I ignored that warning and breezed merrily on to near disaster and ruin.

It didn’t have to be that way. I knew there was an “Alternate Route”—one found in the Word of our Lord. But I had to read, study, and live God’s Word to find the detour. The Bible did me no good sitting as a leather paperweight on my desk.

The Word of God is a seed. The more I plant it inside me, the more it grows and fills me. Most importantly, when I encounter one of those life-changing “Road Closed” situations, God’s “Alternate Route” lights up in my heart like a neon sign.

Are you planting the seeds of God’s Word where they can grow and guide you when you need your next alternate route?

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I miss my dad.

Twenty-seven years ago, we bade him goodbye as he took flight on angel wings. It was a strange moment for our family. Once Dad was gone, we just stood there quietly.

“What do we do now?” I whispered to my niece, an RN.

“Call the nurse’s desk. They’ll know what to do.”

We didn’t call. Instead, my niece took my hand, and together we walked down the long hospital corridor to the nurse’s desk.

“He’s gone.” My voice quivered. The nurse on duty walked around the desk and hugged me.

“I know. I saw his stats on my desk. You and your family take the time you need to say goodbye, and when you’re ready, you can leave. I’ve already called the doctor to come and make the declaration.”

Dad’s cancer road was short, and we are fortunate that God saw fit to take him before he began to suffer. His compassion for Dad and us was immeasurable when we think about what could have been.

The psalmist grasped the great compassion of our Father in heaven. He reminded us God’s mercy is available to us in so many ways—even though sometimes we don’t recognize it immediately. God’s passion is girded in His compassion, and He longs to share that with His children. 

Dad knew the Lord intimately, but not until his elder years. He was baptized as a young man but chose to walk away from God’s love and compassion during his mid-life years. But one day, God moved in Dad’s heart. We still don’t know how or why, except that from that day forward, Dad walked hand in hand with the Master. He learned of the mighty compassion of the Lord for those who fear Him, and when his time came to take flight, Dad took hold of God’s hand and was gracefully lifted into His arms.

Some feel they never had a father, and others, like me, only knew immense love from their dad. Still, we all have a Father who longs for a relationship with us and whose compassion will carry us through every joy and hardship.

Reach up. Take hold of the Master’s hand. He is your one true Father.

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I was raised in a Christian home, so I knew about Jesus.

However, it wasn’t until I was in my forties that I experienced a change in my thinking. I was studying the book of Romans. I had gone through a few difficult years. My husband had left me with two children to raise. A year later my father died. I had lost the two most important men in my life.

When I read Romans 5:8, I realized I didn’t need earthly men for support. The Man I needed to rely on was Jesus. I have never remarried because Jesus’ support continues to grow stronger. I needed to break down to open my heart to what Jesus did for me and to believe deep down how much He loves me.

I had read this verse many times throughout my life, but this time something happened. I realized Jesus suffered and died on that cross for me. At that moment, my relationship with Him became real and personal. I cried like a baby.

As we read our Bibles, we can read a certain passage multiple times with no reaction. Then suddenly, a new meaning hits us. God opens our minds to things in Scripture when we need them.  

God knows what’s going on in our lives, and His timing to intervene is perfect. Moses had to experience God away from the Egyptian influences before God could use him to save the Israelites. He spent years in Midian until he was ready to accept God’s interaction. God also knows when we are ready to accept His interaction.

Now, when reading my Bible, I think, What is God trying to teach me in these verses? Sometimes, reading a passage gives me comfort but nothing more. At other times, a verse pops out. When it does, I spend more time on it because I know God is trying to teach me something.

As you are reading your Bible, a verse might touch you for no apparent reason. Be open to what God has in store for you. What you find might surprise you.

When you read your Bible, do it with a clear mind.

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I often say the adoption of our daughter from Russia in 1989 was a different kind of “labor.”

Still, the adoption was fraught with the same emotions of a biological birth: excitement, fear, joy, anxiety, hope. Because of that process, I gained a new perspective for my own adoption as a child of God. I see with fresh eyes the emotional and physical cost Jesus paid in laboring for my inclusion into His family.

Jesus’ joy was not in what would happen to Him, but in what it would accomplish—salvation for sinners—and in what His reward would be—sitting at God’s right hand.

In His most human of moments, Jesus sweated drops of blood as He thought about what lay ahead for Him. He knew it would not be easy or pain-free. It would be brutal and cost Him everything.

It wasn’t enough that Jesus suffered emotionally; He also suffered beatings and torture. Death. The ultimate cost.

When I saw Jesus’ laboring for my adoption in this light, it overwhelmed and humbled me. I can’t begin to imagine the cost He paid. While our daughter’s adoption cost us considerable time and money, my eternal and priceless adoption cost Someone His life.

Have you thought about what it took to adopt you into God’s family? If not, take a few minutes and meditate on it. Give thanks to Jesus for the cost He paid on your behalf.

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With one hand holding the jar of peanut butter and the other holding my magnifying glass, I struggled to read the tiny numbers on the sixteen-ounce plastic container.

The manufacturer had printed the numbers below a barcode on the bottom of the jar. I moved the magnifier up and down until the numbers swam into focus. Finally, I could make sense of them. I compared them to the long list on my computer screen. About halfway down that list, I stopped short. I read the ten-digit sequence of numbers listed there again. And then, I compared them to the ten-digit series on the jar of peanut butter. They matched. The container I held in my hand was on the recall list—part of a batch strongly suspected of being contaminated with salmonella. And our family had already eaten three-quarters of the peanut butter in the jar.

No one in our family had become sick with diarrhea, fever, chills, or stomach cramps that salmonella loves to bestow on the people it infects. Even so, I tossed the plastic jar in the trash can. I can happily do without abdominal pain.

In this age of Covid, this psalm has become a watchword around our house. We thank the Lord for that wonderful promise in family prayers, blessings over food, and just plain conversations with our Lord. But the assurance doesn’t just apply to Covid or any other dangerous virus. It also applies to the unseen dangers lurking around the corner and over the horizons of our lives.

I have no idea how many dangers and sicknesses I’ve NOT encountered because of God’s love and grace—such as the possibly contaminated jars of peanut butter. And I can’t even count all the bad situations from which He rescued me before I planted His word like a seed in my heart.

I know I walk in the darkness of a fallen world. God’s love and His Word are the only lights I have to find my way.

Are you walking in God’s divine light?

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In my early teens, I babysat for the family across the street.

Their children included a six-month-old girl and incorrigible twin four-year-old boys. The baby girl’s needs were simple. However, every time I tended to her needs, the boys used their unfiltered creativity to entertain themselves.

When I gave her a bottle, they took their bunny out of its cage, placed it on the record turntable, and watched it barf. While I changed her diaper, they decided it would be even more fun to put the bunny in the dryer and see it barf in there.

While I was rescuing the bunny, and cleaning up after it, they went into the garage, brought the lawnmower inside, and sucked up a throw rug into the mechanism.

As I rectified the lawnmower-rug encounter, I smelled smoke. I rushed upstairs to the kitchen to discover they had set the kitchen curtains on fire with their chemistry set.

I called the fire department and my mother—who ran across the street with an extinguisher as I corralled the three siblings on the sidewalk. The volunteer firemen arrived just as my mother declared victory over the flames.

My mother trained me as a babysitter before I was hired, so I knew whom to call when I needed help with a flaming chemistry experiment. My parents taught me about God and how to pray to Him, so, like the psalmist, I knew whom to call when I needed help with life issues.

When our relationships, finances, or health issues spin out of control, we can call on God. He waits eagerly for us to do so. And we don’t have to wait until things become an emergency.

Why not get to know God now by calling upon Him? 

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“Where were you last night?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

One son had escaped the house by going out the window of our guest bedroom to meet his friend so they could have fun.

Like many parents, we faced a lot of challenges during our children’s teenage years. Being adopted did not make it any easier for us or them. They thought when we weren’t watching them, they could get away with anything. Our hearts were torn between loving them and wanting them to grow up disciplined.

How refreshing it was to see the transformation that came about in their lives about the time they turned twenty. They realized first-hand the need for repentance, a change of mind and direction based on submitting to God.

When we come to God, confessing our sins and acknowledging our guilt, He wipes the slate clean. Suddenly, all the old sins in our life get covered with Jesus’ blood. We no longer want to do the sinful things we once did. And God is there to help us live holy lives, not just dread the consequences and guilt of our disobedience.

Wanting someone else to repent is easier than seeing our need to repent. We think we are doing great when all the while we are committing the same sins repeatedly. We believe we are good enough in God’s eyes but don’t see how much we need God’s mercy and grace.

God waits for us to come to Him. When we do, He opens His arms wide to forgive us. Our sons discovered that they, too, could experience God’s pleasure as they stopped their rebellion.

Are you willing to change your mind and repent of your sins? If so, you can enjoy God’s forgiveness and fellowship.

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She'll be ninety-six this year.

My mother has good genes, and I believe her longevity is a part of that. Though she lives in an assisted living facility, Mom's health is perfect, and her creativity in quilting still wows everyone (she turns out a queen-sized quilt every other month). My brother and I are fortunate that Mom does so well. We call her “near perfect,” short of a little selective hearing. At ninety-five, she's earned that.

Recently we were chatting about children. Mom sat quietly listening as I rambled about our boys and grands. After a bit, she looked up from her quilting and smiled.

“You know, I'm very proud of you and your brother. You've raised your children to be fine, independent adults. They can stand on their own, and they're successful and happy. That makes me so proud. Guess I did something right, heh?”

The writer of Proverbs took the time to mention the importance of parents. He wanted the people to know the value of a good mother and father. Throughout Proverbs, he reminds us not to shame our mothers, but that children should bring their mothers joy. It was a nod to the time and love mothers invested in their children.

My mother has always been a wonderful mom. She invested not only in my brother and me but also in our friends. Our home was always open to the “strays,” as Dad jokingly called them, who spent countless hours hanging out with our family. Mom was a mother to many who needed the support they didn't receive in their own homes.

To say that my brother and I are proud of her is one thing, but to have Mom say she is proud of us brings a new meaning to the word. She glanced at her wall of family photos and smiled. “I'm pleased.”

This Mother’s Day, allow time for your mom to breathe you into her heart. Let her enjoy the person you've become. Show her your smile, your happiness, and your faith. Allow her to see the reward of her efforts. She will be pleased. She can rejoice.

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My granddaughter dumped the puzzle out of the box and onto a table.

One thousand pieces in various shades of green, blue, red, yellow, and white. A field of flowers under a blue sky and bright sun. At least, that’s what the picture on the box portrayed. Beautiful. I could hardly wait to get to work.

I picked up a green piece that looked almost identical to a hundred others. Only the shape differed … and only slightly. I groaned. This was going to be difficult.

And it was. We put the edge pieces together, then began filling in the rest. The process became slow and frustrating. We would walk away, take a break, and then come back. No matter how many times we looked at the picture, we simply could not make the pieces fit.

Our life is much like that puzzle. Hundreds, even thousands, of pieces we can’t fit together, no matter how hard we try. We get so caught up on one single piece that we forget about working on the others. We want to see the completed picture with all the pieces in perfect order. Yet all we see are gaps and holes that need filling. Too many times, we throw up our hands in defeat and walk away.

The good news is while we see something incomplete and imperfect, God sees the big picture. And He is continuously working on it, making sure that every detail of our lives is continually woven together for good, even when we can’t see His hand moving each piece into position.

Our beautiful puzzle took a long time to finish, but it was worth the time and effort.

Don’t beat yourself up when the puzzle looks too hard. Maybe even impossible. That’s when God does His best work. He assures us in His Word that every detail of our lives is continually woven together for good —and ultimately for His glory. After all, He doesn’t just see the big picture. He is the Master artist who designed it, and He will bring it to completion.

Ask God to help you trust Him for the big picture.

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“Your mother won’t be coming home for a while.”

Those were words no ten-year-old can prepare to hear. Mom was going to be hospitalized indefinitely. My Dad was going to care for David, my four-year-old younger brother. But, being older, I could more easily adapt to a new environment, and so I was sent to Grandmother and Grandfather Lane’s for the summer. It was my first journey into the wilderness, emotionally speaking.

Granddaddy Lane was a salesman for Johns Manville and away traveling. And since it was summer, my grandmother decided we needed an adventure—just the two of us—so she suggested we go to the beach.

Granddaddy Lane had built my grandmother an oceanfront cottage on Long Beach (now Oak Island) thirteen years earlier. Hurricane Hazel had christened it, but it was still there, and it was just about my grandmother’s favorite place on earth. Mine too. The cottage’s name was “Sea Lane.” Just hearing her say the name brought joy to my heart.

I was a reticent child. Watching and listening was pretty much my specialty. I didn’t ask too many questions of adults, but I worried plenty, especially about Mom. And I talked to God. I spoke with Him in the one place I felt He always listened: on the sea-side deck at that beach cottage. I would sit, watching the ocean send its rhythmic breakers against the shore, and I could talk to Him in a way I never could kneeling by my bed or in church. My words and questions came naturally there. It was one of the reasons the beach cottage was one of my favorite places. Usually, the entire family occupied the cozy beach cottage. But for once, I had Sea Lane, and my grandmother, all to myself.

Making a trip to Jones Seafood, a now-legendary restaurant on Oak Island, was always a tradition when we went to the beach. However, in all the times I had been there, I had never had dessert. Restaurant desserts were just not something my parents did. But this time, it was just the two of us. When the waitress came around at the end of the meal, two pieces of delicious pie arrived with her. It was a tangy lemon custard with a saltine cracker crust and had sweet, whipped cream piled and swirled high. It tickled my young taste buds like nothing I had ever tasted. This was a taste of heaven. Manna, maybe, tasted like this.

It had been a topsy-turvy summer. I missed my dad and my little brother. Mom being hospitalized had turned my world upside down. Especially since no one was talking about Mom, except in whispers just out of my hearing. Naturally, my young imagination ran wild with the possibilities. But here, in this moment, God answered me . . . with a piece of pie. With my grandmother’s undivided attention and that taste of heaven on my tongue, I knew I was loved and cared for. Everything would be okay.

Mom came home before school started back at the end of summer. The family was whole again. But to this day, remembering the taste of that pie brings a sense of peace to my soul that can only be explained by the faithfulness and love of God. He gave me, a ten-year-old boy, manna in my wilderness.

God uses all our senses to speak to us, even taste. On that occasion, He used a piece of pie to comfort a troubled little boy—a wonderful taste of heaven.

In your wilderness, keep all your senses open for God’s answer and direction. It may come to your taste buds. 

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I found it ironic yet somewhat prophetic.

As I skimmed through Scripture, I found both Jesus's sacrifice given in great love and God's sacrifice of His son listed in the books of John. Although the chapters and verses were not added until the fifteenth century, I'd like to think it's a nod from God to John for the words he penned. What interested me was that both are found not only in a book John wrote but also in 3:16. More so, both show the immense love for us by Christ and the Father.

I'm sure multiple Scriptures follow suit. Still, I am always amazed at how God proves Himself repeatedly. Subtle things like this come to light when we are shown that Christ loved us so much He laid down His life for us and that God loved us so much that He gave His one and only Son for us.

There's a greater love at play here than we can imagine. We have difficulty getting our heads around a sacrifice that is so great. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son” (John 3:16 NIV).

Each Easter, we focus on the death and resurrection of Christ. The picture that looms over us is the agony Jesus suffered. I sometimes wonder if that overshadows His resurrection. Though both are highly recognized and acknowledged, why do we only focus on this act of immense love at Easter? What about the remaining 364 days after this passion picture fades from sight. Christ becomes “ordinary” to us, and the sacrificial lamb's reality becomes a sweet lamb photo in our children's Sunday school papers.

Every morning, we should remember the love of Christ, and each night, we should remember that the love of God is so great that He gave His only Son for us.

The death and resurrection are vitally important. I would never lessen this. Instead, I hope to bring to light the importance of these two verses in our daily lives, not just at Easter. Christ chose to bear the burden of our sin. He agonized in the garden, pleading with the Father—yet accepting the will of God. The weight of sin didn't begin on the cross. It took Him to His knees in the garden, and with each step closer to the cross, it pushed harder against His shoulders—pure, perfect love. No greater love was ever shown.

Take time and ponder the great and enduring love of Christ and the Father. Celebrate this love every day of your life and celebrate it to the fullest. We are so loved that Jesus gave His life, and the Father gave His only Son—for us.

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During my and my husband’s first year of dating, everything was blissful.

Nick and I met small acts of kindness with great appreciation. Time together was sacred. Everything was new and exciting. As our relationship progressed over the next six years, however, our appreciation and awe of one another faded. Although our love for each other remained strong, we took each other for granted.

My relationship with the Bible was similar. During my teenage years, I hungered for the Word of God. After completing my homework each evening, I spent hours poring through the Bible and reading it through cover to cover multiple times over. I thumbed through stacks of memorization notecards. I was in awe of the living truth at my fingertips and grew to savor even the smell of my Bible’s pages.

In time, however, my appreciation and excitement for the Word of God faded. Verses that initially rocked my world became ordinary. Spending time in the Word was no longer a priority. Instead of utilizing it as the powerful tool it is, my Bible functioned as nothing more than a dust collector on my bookshelf.

Recognizing my need to fall in love with the Bible again, I asked God to increase my hunger for His Word. I began waking up fifteen minutes earlier to spend time in the Bible and to complete daily devotions. As I continued to read and study, God answered my prayers. The more time I spent in the Bible, the more I hungered for more. The Holy Spirit pointed out new golden nuggets in verses I had read fifty times before.

The Word of God will never change and never fade. As we ask God to help fill us with a hunger for His Word and to fall in love with His commands, He will honor that request, and our lives will be all the richer for doing so.

Have you fallen in love with God’s Word?

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When my brother asked me to take him to the store for tobacco, I grew irritated.

Immediately, the noise started in my head. Why would I want to take you to get something that’s killing you? Why don’t you just go to the eye doctor and get new glasses so you can pass the vision test and get your driver’s license again? Don’t you realize it’s an imposition to ask others to take you places?

And then I heard that unmistakable quiet, gentle voice of the Holy Spirit say, “Whatsoever you do for the least of these, that you do unto me.” In other words, “You represent me, Anne.”

My brother is not a believer, and how I treat him reflects on my faith or lack thereof. He is seventy-five and has no friends. His only exposure to God’s love is from my husband and me.

Representing Christ well is important. So is demonstrating the love of Jesus, no matter how we feel. I must ask myself if I am shining a light on the right path or pouring gasoline on a forest fire blocking the way?

What if I cried out in need and God ignored me? What if He told me He was too busy to deal with my foolishness? That wouldn’t be a God I’d want to worship and trust.

When Saul was blinded by the light and love of Jesus, he asked, “What shall I do, Lord?” Like many of us today, he might have responded, “What the…” or “Surely, I’m losing my mind!” Instead, he recognized the voice of God and willed himself to do whatever God asked, no matter the consequences. He was willing to be God’s representative, whatever that looked like.

I want to be light and love to everyone I encounter, friend or foe. I never want to misrepresent the goodness of my Lord.

Ask Jesus every day what He wants you to do.

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I stared in horror at what I had done.

An anguished wail of despair exploded from the depths of my heart. On the floor at my feet, a crimson halo of blood spread from the head of the week-old kitten. I had just crushed it under one of my size fourteen hiking shoes.

It was an accident . . . a horrible accident. The kitten's mother had decided to move her new litter of three from the box where they were born to a new location. For some reason, she had dropped this kitten under the archway that leads from our living room to our kitchen. And there I had encountered it, late in the evening, as I moved to turn the house lights off for the night. With most of the lights already off, I simply didn't see it.

The tiny kitten cried and struggled feebly as the blood continued to spread. It absolutely tore my heart out. I sank to my knees, and the grief again erupted in a harrowing wail from somewhere deep inside me. Such a tiny, beautiful, helpless creature, and I had crushed the life out of it. As my eyes tried to fill with tears, I begged God to forgive me for killing one of His innocent creatures. 

And then, in my spirit, I heard clearly: “This is how I feel whenever one of my children goes to Hell.”

Later that night, as I lay sleepless in bed, God's earlier words returned to me: “This is how I feel whenever one of my children goes to Hell.” And it began to sink into my thick skull and hard heart just how incredible His love must be to inspire such pain over each of us who is lost.

Now the thing is, that shouldn't be such a revelation. I've read the words and absorbed the stories in the Bible that describe His magnificent LOVE repeatedly. But sometimes, the mere words don't translate into my heart as they should.

However, this night, as I rolled my earlier anguish around in my head, as I thought about God's words in my spirit, these words bloomed to life in my heart: “And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is” (Ephesians 3:18). And suddenly I knew . . . I KNEW. God IS love, and HE loves me beyond all measure. Awesome. Absolutely awesome.  

Have you experienced God’s love?

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It didn’t take me long to determine Margeaux was in charge.

When my friend goes out of town, I often watch her rescued Russian sheepdog, and she has no problem telling me she is in charge.

A sheepdog's instinct is to herd animals. In the absence of animals, they will herd people. So, whenever Margeaux comes to visit, she follows me from room to room, nudging me along with her nose to follow her. When I don't follow her lead, she either taps me with her paw or barks at me until I stop whatever I'm doing and follow her.

When it comes to Jesus, He is like that insistent dog. He fervently encouraged His disciples to follow Him. He does the same for us.

Once Jesus is in our life, He convicts us and doesn't give up on us until we follow Him. Some may be too busy with other things to follow the Lord. Others may be stubborn or somehow resistant. Most like their lives just as they are, and change is hard. But God will change us when we choose to follow Him.

God pursues you because He loves you. Follow Him.

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My heart ached as I watched a video of a Christian, solid in the faith, asking college-aged students to define love, happiness, and God.

Their answers were staggering. Many seemed to have no idea about the love of God. Their idea of happiness was doing what the cosmos led. Cosmos? When asked what they would say if a forty-year-old man told them he wanted to be a student in a first-grade class, many responded, “If that is where he feels he needs to be.” These students were clueless about Christ, and they had no idea how to question something they knew to be innately wrong.

I laid my head on the table and sobbed. What happened to the absolutes we once knew?

The writer of Hebrews felt that same frustration when he reminded the people they'd been believers long enough to have moved ahead in their study of the Word. Instead, their hearing was dulled. They'd made no progression in their knowledge of the Word. They still fed on milk and were not ready to feed on the meat of the Word, much less teach it.

The problem has changed little throughout the ages. With such extraordinary technological abilities at our fingertips and our extended abilities to learn and teach, we give little focus to knowing God's Word proficiently. Many in our churches still feed on the milk. Our zeal for knowing Him better has diminished.

Christ brought us so much with His entrance into the world. He raised the bar from strictly obeying the law to knowing the Father's human, tender, and fruitful side. Yet as time passed, we have folded under the world's demands and allowed the absolutes of who God is, why He came, and why He left to slip from us.

If ever there was a time for God's people to know Him fully, it's now. Study to show yourself approved in the Word. Not only will you grow, but you will also be able to share Him in the fullest and most accurate way. He waits for you to respond. Answer.

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In the middle of a pandemic, over six months, our family experienced losses in ways we never had before.

Unexpected relationship issues arose outside the family that hurt us deeply and caused division. A business deal went wrong, so we had to employ an attorney. Issues came up in our church, and we made the tough decision to leave this church family we had grown to love. My husband also lost his job.

As time unraveled and our hearts healed from the pain, we saw these situations as opportunities. God was giving us a clean slate, and hard lessons learned helped us attain this. We looked forward to the good God had in store for us that He would bring out of the next hardships we would endure.

Sometimes, God has to change situations so He can transform us, even if it means working against our expectations. When we experience regression in an area of our lives that once thrived, or distress where there was vibrant life, we can trust God to take a dry tree and make it flourish. When we feel knocked down, we can remember God is the lifter of the lowly. We are valuable to Him. He wants an ideal future for us, so He will do whatever is necessary to get us there. He wants to advance us because we are His. God is in the business of recovering, rebuilding, refurbishing, rehabilitating, and reviving our souls.

In your season of unexpected loss, my prayer for you is that God will help you expect there is something good waiting down the road, you will realize these trials will eventually come to an end, you will gain God’s perspective of what happened so you can understand better how to perceive, react, and respond to each situation, He will fill you to the brim with His joy and perfect peace, and the power of His Spirit will surround you so you can receive the strength to heal and move forward.

Let God teach you how to overcome trials His way.

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In April of 2017, I heard a preacher praise Thomas for doubting the rumor that Jesus had risen from the tomb.

“Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were and put my hand into His side, I will not believe it.” The preacher then asked, “But who of us does not have doubts?” He continued by saying that questioning God’s Word to verify its authenticity was normal, even healthy. My spirit recoiled.

In Luke chapter nine, Jesus sent out the twelve disciples with these instructions: “Preach the kingdom of God but take nothing for the journey. No staff. No bag. No bread. No money. No extra tunic.” He advised them to find a welcoming home in which to rest and to remain in that home until they left.

When the Twelve returned, Jesus gathered them in a remote place, but late in the afternoon, the Twelve came to Him and asked that He send the crowds away. They still had not grasped that He alone was their provision.

Days earlier, the Twelve had gone out to draw crowds to Jesus. Now, they were sending crowds away from Jesus. This is us. This is the modern church. Tapped out, tired, and living by sight not faith, we send crowds away from Jesus.

“You give them something to eat,” Jesus replies.

“But we only have a few fish and loaves. How far will that go among so many?”

Although Jesus stood with them, Phillip and Andrew only saw five small rolls and two small fish. Jesus saw “in His mind what He was going to do.”

Jesus looked to heaven, the source of all provision, and gave thanks. He blessed what He held. He divided the food into smaller bites and distributed it to the Twelve.

This is the multiplication power of our Father. What we have is always enough when we have the power of Jesus within us. The five loaves, distributed to people seated in groups of fifty, fed five thousand plus. The Twelve gathered twelve baskets.

In chapter ten, Jesus sent again. It’s as if Jesus was saying, “Okay, team. You’ve seen how this works. Let’s try once more.” Jesus concluded His instructions with this: “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.”

Believe Jesus is enough. He is all the provision you need.

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The sheets were wet, but that was nothing new.

Each morning, I stripped his bed and did the laundry as I cared for my father at home. Now, he was in hospice, and his life was coming to an end. I didn’t ask for this duty, nor was I ready for it.

After a fall in the kitchen, my father had dragged his frail body to the stairs and plummeted down the six steps before him. He proceeded to drag his bloodied body into the nearby bathroom. Why? I would ask him later, but without getting a reply. He topped the event off by pulling a metal décor piece full of blue marbles and candles on his head. He was found fifteen hours later, bloodied and bruised, but, by the grace of God, still alive.

Love is patient and kind because it is the cornerstone of Christ. God gave patience and kindness to my dad when He allowed him to live. God gave me patience and kindness when He placed my dad in my care.

When we want to be the light of Christ, we act in patient and kind ways. To be more Christ-like is to be full of love towards everyone we encounter. I want to be more Christlike, and God gave me this opportunity. I plan to obey in all things He places in my path.

This life is fleeting in the bigger scheme of things. My dad needs Jesus, and I may be that instrument God uses to bring Dad to God. If I could bring the good news of salvation to just a limited number of people, I would want to include all my family first.

Today, after me praying for years, my father said, “I love you.” This happened because I was patient and kind. I became the love that Paul speaks of.

What have you become because of love? Pray to have a firm focus on Jesus as you carry God’s love to others. Be obedient, even when you are spent.

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“I’ll never get this part. The casting director hates me.” My daughter Sam stressed over her audition for Mary Poppins.

“I’m sure the director doesn’t hate you,” I said.

“He only gives roles to kids he likes. So I’m not even going to try out.” Her voice got quiet. “He thinks I stirred up drama earlier this year, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”

No amount of encouragement from anyone changed her mind about auditioning. She stood firm that she was in the right, and she would not apologize or even smooth things over with the casting director.

I dropped her off at theater camp on audition day, fully prepared for Sam to be cast in the chorus ensemble.

Imagine my surprise when I heard she auditioned anyway. She started her audition with, “I want to start this audition with an apology. I regret any drama I may have caused earlier this season, and I promise to work on my lines and my singing instead of gossiping with my friends.” Then she sang in her best British accent.

“The director actually smiled a real smile at me,” she said. “Oh, yeah, and I got the part!”

Imagine how differently her audition would have gone if she had not humbled herself first, even when she still felt she was right. Imagine how differently it would have turned out if she had not auditioned at all, arms crossed in the corner, fuming silently over being in the chorus ensemble again.

For some of us, it’s hard to imagine letting go of that outer pride shell. For those of us who hold our pride in high regard above all else, so many things stand in our way – mostly ourselves and the high horses we ride in on.

When God calls us home, He calls only our souls. We leave all of our other shells behind. If the deadly sin of pride is one of your afflictions, here is your not-so-gentle reminder that humility in character and strong relationships with others are more important.

What is one thing you can do to shed your pride shell?

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We weren’t far into our adoption when we took our sons to eat at their first Chinese restaurant.

Inside was a huge Buddha. One of my sons looked at me and asked, “Is that an idol?” I replied that it was, and he then asked, “Do you want me to bash the idol?”

His childlike faith was demonstrated at that moment. We had talked about ours being the one true and living God, and he believed this. Motivated by the stories in the Old Testament about how the kings had gone about destroying idolatry in the land of Judah and killing those who practiced it, our son simply wanted to imitate their faith.

Paul reminded his readers many times in his letters to imitate him. These days we would consider that “humblebrag.” We fear people seeing us as how we are. We depend on the Holy Spirit to work out faith in us. However, we are called to be examples to those around us.

One problem is that we fail to see the idols that exist in our lives. I grew up hearing Bible stories and thinking of an idol only as a statue. But I struggle with all kinds of idols in my heart—pride, reputation, and writing, to name a few.

Jesus confronted these idols and more in Matthew 6, pointing out that outward adherence to the Law was not the same as having the right attitudes.

If others saw how I eliminated idols in my life (ruthlessly bashing them if necessary), they would want to imitate my faith. This is the same kind of faith the author of Hebrews was talking about in the above verse. Faith shines amid opposition.

Which idol are you willing to rid yourself of today by faith?

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Once upon a time, I spent seven years of my life on the same three acres of land.

Doing so wasn't by choice. I was a guest of the State of Florida. The name of the place was Marion Correctional Institution, and it was a maximum-security prison in central Florida.

Never in my life had I been as alone or as much a stranger in a strange land as I was those first couple of years in prison. In prison, there are two sets of rules. One is the rules of the institution, written by the institution and printed up helpfully in a nice handbook that officials give to every inmate. Mostly, it is a list of all the myriad ways an inmate can run afoul of said institution. The other set of rules appears in no handbook. They aren't written anywhere. But knowing these rules are the difference between life and death. The strong survive. The weak die, if not in body, then in spirit, as they succumb to the hell that is life inside prison.

Some find protection in gangs—strength in numbers. Although I was recruited, I resisted. I tried to avoid all the games and distractions that most inmates desperately cling to. I walked my own path, as quietly as I could, while I clung to my Father's promise that I would go home. I wasn't a walking talking Bible-thumping evangelist. That wasn't me. There were guys who were, that acted the part, and it's not upon me to judge their hearts. As Forrest Gump would say: "That's all I have to say about that."

But to say the entire experience was terrible would be a lie. Through God, I found an inner strength I never knew I had. And perhaps strangest of all, in that most unlikely of places, and again through God, I found someone who would become a life-long friend, closer than a brother. Russ's quiet dignity in the face of the overwhelming odds against him was what first caught my eye.

Russ was looking at spending the rest of his life incarcerated. He was a tattooed biker, hard as nails, whose worship of his older brothers had led him to an infamous journey of mayhem across the country. And although we did actually look alike, you couldn't have found two more different people.

Thrown together in a working environment, I realized in time that Russ was different. He had a deep and questing intellect riding on top of those tattoos. And despite all he had been through, Russ was a man of good heart. Over the years, through the trials of living in prison, we formed a lasting friendship. Russ came to know the Lord through our conversations, and I came to know that I could trust Russ completely. And together, watching each other's back, we made it out of that hell.

Through God's grace, we were both given second chances. My original forty-six-year sentence became just seven years, and Russ was proved innocent on appeal. We were released about the same time. Russ made a new life for himself as a long-distance trucker and found a charming and beautiful wife, Connie. This year they will celebrate their twenty-seventh wedding anniversary, and they enjoy their grandchildren in a beautiful home they own. I'd like to think I had a small part in changing Russ's life, but in reality, it was all our loving, forgiving, wonderful Lord.

Today Russ and I remain close friends, trying to visit each other once or twice a year. And I still trust Russ to watch my back, in any situation.

You never know how God may use you, even in the most unlikely of places. Are you living a life that He can use?

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A few years ago, I waddled into our local friendly farmstead with my daughter and two-year-old son, knowing it might be a recipe for disaster.

Armed with sunscreen, a heap of ambition, and an expanding pregnant belly, we walked through its gates in the hope we could call the day lovely. And it was … until it happened. 

I watched my son stroll into the barn, equipped with a giant tube slide. I planted myself at the bottom and waited for his smiling face to appear. I waited and waited. Suddenly panic set in. Where was he? Did someone take him? Did he run away with a rogue cow? I wondered.

I looked everywhere. I even looked inside the bunny exhibit by the barn. But I will never know why I didn’t look at the construction site to the barn's left. It was a two-year-old boy's dream, complete with yellow warning tape, a mud lake, and drying cement. It was not until I saw a crowd gathering in front of the yellow tape that I saw my son—smack dab in the middle of the mud lake, yelling loudly with tears streaming down his face. A MESS!

Once we were safely inside our minivan and had pulled away from our adventure, something hit me. How many times has my heavenly Father pulled me out of the mud? 

When I saw my boy, I was overjoyed. I didn't think about the mud all over me. I didn't care what others thought. I didn't even mind that the cleaning-up process got messier before it improved. I just knew I had to rescue him because he was mine.

How much more precious to know I am God’s? He doesn't care if I am covered in dirt. He doesn't care what others think. He is willing to rescue me, even through the muck, the mire, and the messy clean-up. I am His and He is mine—mud and all.

While we often lose our way in the messiness of suffering, we can take heart, knowing God will always come to our rescue. 

When has God rescued you from the muck and the mire of life? 

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Although I grew up in a rural county—where on a windy day one could smell the natural made all-purpose fertilizer of cows—I am very much a city girl with not even a tiny green thumb or any farming experience.

As the rain and the snow come down from heaven…so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. I was a bit surprised when reading this passage about tilling the soil. God’s Word is like seeds that sprout and grow if planted and cared for under the right conditions. We must allow God’s Word to take root so the fruit can flourish. The condition of the heart (or the soil) the seed falls on can delay production, but God is patient enough to see that His seeds produce fruit.

God consistently tills the soil of our hearts, so the seeds will grow and flourish. Tilling means turning the ground over and breaking it up so organic matter can mix into it. That live matter controls the weeds, breaks up crusted soil, and loosens up small areas for planting.

Just as the rain and snow serve a purpose, so does God’s Word. God sends reminders of His Word so its purpose will be accomplished. God reminds us of the condition of our hearts (soil) and evokes us to make the necessary changes so we can receive it and prosper.

When you receive the organic matter in the form of God’s Word, revelations, encouragements, and prophecies, till the soil of your heart so you can reap your harvest.

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December 10, 2009 was a challenging day.

Although we don’t know the exact sequence of the events, my husband fell, got a deep cut on his head, and received a severe brain injury. He also suffered a heart attack and probable stroke, in addition to significant oxygen deprivation when his heart and lungs stopped functioning.

That experience, and the days that followed, magnified my gratitude for the miracle of life and those who promote, sustain, and enhance it.

I’m thankful for:

• The 911 dispatcher who calmly walked me through those first minutes and remained on the phone until the ambulance arrived.
• EMS personnel who professionally met my husband’s physical needs while obtaining necessary information and providing guidance during my emotional distress.
• Doctors, nurses, and other hospital medical and support staff, who honestly yet compassionately explained the dire circumstances. They provided emergency care yet respected privacy and personal dignity. They also arranged as comfortable a setting as feasible—preparing us for what they thought inevitable.
• Family, friends around the world, and a church that surrounded us with prayer, love, and innumerable acts of kindness.
• The neighbor who blanches at the sight of blood yet cleaned the floor where my husband fell, so I would not have to face it when I returned home.

I’m thankful beyond words that twenty-four hours after our crisis, with his respirator removed, my husband breathed on his own, tracked motion and sounds with his eyes, and squeezed our hands in response to questions. I’m thankful that within forty-eight hours, he sat up and talked. I’m thankful that staff in three hospitals continued to provide tests, treatment, and therapy but also openly acknowledged the miracle of his survival.

I’m most thankful for the ultimate Provider of all healing and the Giver of life—not only physical but also eternal for those who accept the gift available through Jesus’ sacrificial death. Because of all He did, does now, and will do in the future, when we take that inevitable step from this life to the next, we need not fear. The same God who walks with us every step of this present life will welcome us into the next with open arms of love.

Will you also accept God’s gift?

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New. That’s what jumps out at me on New Year’s Eve. Do over. Start fresh. Second chance. Brand new.

I’ve never been a party bug. For me, staying up on New Year’s Eve is torture. All that hoopla just to watch a ball fall. I know, call me boring, but I find no celebration in a once-a-year New Year’s Eve event when I receive the gift of a do-over daily.

What does that mean? Well, I suppose you must dig into my heart for that one, but it seems to me when I open my eyes each morning, I’m blessed with a new day . . . a new beginning . . . a do-over. I get the celebration in New York City, and around the world for that fact, but aren’t we given something special every day?

There was a time when I looked forward to the new year, citing things would be better in the days to come, but the truth is, life is still happening. Nothing has changed. Covid still covers the world like a dark cloud. Thousands still die, men still fight wars, politics is still dishonest. The world hasn’t changed.

The psalmist made an important point when he said of God in Psalm 98: “For he has done marvelous things.” God doesn’t just do “new” at the beginning of the year. He does new and marvelous things every day.

We classify January first as the start of something new, and maybe for some, it does draw a line in the sand that constitutes change. As for me, I am blessed daily by the loving forgiveness of a Father who knows me well. One who knows my imperfections yet chooses to let me start each day anew.

This God, our Abba Father, stands with His arms extended, offering us renewal in Him all the time. All we must do is say yes. I am happy to share in the joy of a new year, but not because it’s a new year. Rather, it’s another day of opportunity to meet face-to-face with Abba Father and know I’ll find peace in the breath of His ways.

I wish you a happy new year—not with capital letters, but with this blessing of a new day given to you by a Father who loves you.

“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

May you be blessed in 2022.

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While nearly all Christmas Nativity scenes picture the “We Three Kings of Orient are…” hanging out with Mary and Joseph and the infant Jesus in Bethlehem, this isn’t true.

Not to say there weren’t kings or Magi at the birth of Jesus. There could have been. I wasn’t there, so I wouldn’t know. But the three kings of history didn’t show up until later in the story—not in Bethlehem, but at Joseph and Mary’s house in Nazareth.

Jesus was nearly two years old when the Magi finally found him by following the star. The Star went before them, leading them. And it led them to Nazareth. This wasn’t a natural comet, star, or planetary alignment. They don’t move like that. It was not a natural phenomenon; it was spiritual.

Now the Magi did bring gifts. Oh yes, they brought gifts. Perhaps a better word would be “treasure.” A whole storehouse of treasure. And what did they bring? Gold, a lot of gold. The Greek word for gold that Matthew uses is “chrusos,” plural, meaning many gifts of gold, profound wealth. In fact, millions of dollars’ worth of gold, which was the custom of the day to honor a new king. And they were seeking the King of Kings, so we can be pretty sure what they brought was a magnificent sum.

They also brought frankincense, which just so happened to be the chief fragrance used in worship in the Temple in Jerusalem. It was very expensive—the Frankincense tree didn’t even grow in Israel. It had to be imported from Sheba and Arabia. It was the fragrance of kings.

And the Magi also brought myrrh, a very costly perfume. And like frankincense, myrrh is obtained from a tree that doesn’t grow in Israel. Interestingly, and prophetically enough, it was also used as an antiseptic and for embalming.

Gold for a King, frankincense for a Priest, and myrrh, prophesying Jesus’ death. The frankincense and myrrh were, in fact, more valuable than the gold.

The Magi spent their whole lives studying the prophecies concerning the coming of the King of Kings…the Messiah…the Christ…just to be ready when He appeared. And then they spent years seeking Him after they knew He had arrived. And my word, how they honored Him when they found Him.

Yesterday we celebrated the first coming of Christ. His Second Coming looms before us like the predawn light in the East before the rising of the sun.

Are you seeking Christ today with the heart of the Magi who sought Him two thousand years ago?

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God made meticulous preparations for the arrival of His Son.

Jesus came when the Roman Empire ruled most of the world. This provided a political climate of relative peace among nations for the spreading of the gospel. The Greek language was used as a language of commerce, providing a linguistic bridge among the many ethnic groups that made up the empire. A system of roads was built to provide for that commerce. “All roads lead to Rome,” someone said, and so it was for the travels of the first gospel missionary, the apostle Paul, who carried the gospel down those Roman roads.

God also prepared a forerunner, someone who would go before the Messiah to help people understand what God was doing in their world. His arrival was prophesied by Isaiah: “a voice of one crying in the wilderness” (Isaiah 40:3). He was known for baptizing people in the waters of the Jordan River. His name was John. People called him “the Baptist” (Matthew 3:1). He introduced his followers to Jesus by saying, “Look, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29).

We’ve probably heard someone talk about Jesus and their faith in Him, maybe a grandparent, parent, or friend. Through their witness about Christ, God prepared our hearts to receive the Messiah. We should want to pause a moment and thank God for that person who delivered the Good News to us.

The Advent season is a time of preparation for the coming of the Messiah. We have a role in this preparation. Someone near us, a family member or friend, needs to hear our testimony just as the world needed to hear the testimony of John the Baptist. As we share with others our faith in Jesus as Messiah, we prepare their hearts for His coming to them.

Make this Christmas complete by letting others know you believe Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

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Thousands of blooms combined to deliver the sweetest fragrance my nose had ever encountered. I repeatedly inhaled. Ahhh!

I identified various scents as I progressed on my tour of the huge Tournament of Roses Parade float barn in Pasadena, California. Roses, orchids, chrysanthemums, and various other blooms each emitted their special smell. The flowers’ vivid colors provided no competition for the pleasing aroma wafting from the eighteen million blossoms covering the numerous floats that occupied the venue.

The delight evoked by this once-in-a-lifetime olfactory experience caused me to struggle with the characterization of Jesus as a fragrant offering to God. His life was sacrificed in a hideous death on a wooden cross to which His hands and feet were nailed. How could the smell of His blood and the stench of death be fragrant? Flowers smell sweet, but the mere thought of the odors associated with crucifixion turns my stomach.

The key is understanding that the offering God desires is obedience. At His direction, Jesus voluntarily acted to make Himself a pleasing, fragrant offering. The Son’s complete obedience to His Father’s will allowed a path to open for our reconciliation to God. What could be sweeter?

While the flowers God created are fragrant, the best fragrance to Him is our obedience. Let’s follow Jesus’ example and show our love for our heavenly Father by obeying Him. Our obedience will be a sweet smell.

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Mother was a giver, but she never blew a trumpet.

As a child, my mother chose me to deliver goods to the needy. After coming from the market, Mom parceled out essentials like flour, sugar, cornmeal, soap, and sometimes even a bit of meat for the needy. She then sent me to give these items to two young women who had children. On Sundays, my mom sent me with dinner to my grandfather. Only our household knew of this.

This is how God wants us to give to the poor. We do not need to tell others what we have done or what we are doing.

Three times in Matthew chapter six, Jesus told His disciples that God sees what we do in secret, and He will reward us. Jesus spoke about giving alms, praying, and fasting. Giving alms involves reaching out to others. The other two activities are about our spiritual life—getting in touch with God.

In our spiritual growth, there are times when we do a communal prayer or fast. But on most occasions, we pray in secret to God who sees in secret. What a wonderful opportunity. In this time of prayer, we can be vulnerable. No need to hold back, for God sees us in secret and rewards us.

This is also true of personal fasting. No need to blow a trumpet. This act is between us and God.

In today’s world, people post a lot of things, especially things that give them a halo. We do not have to let anyone know we are helping others. And this does not just apply to money. It can be any action we do to help another. It could be praying for someone, staying with a sick person, giving someone a meal, or offering encouraging words. No need for a trumpet sound.

Keep on doing for others. Pray and fast. Do these from sincere, penitent hearts, and the God who sees in secret will reward you.

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Joseph, husband of Mary and father of the infant Jesus, stood in the warm illuminating glow of flickering candles...and itched.

Itched mightily, in fact, because the robe he wore was an old burlap potato sack that had been given a second career as a robe in the annual church Christmas pageant.

Worse than the itching, though, was a baby Jesus that kept winking at him. Jesus was a plastic baby doll with eyes that were supposed to open and close, but one eye was stuck open. That meant that as Joseph and Mary gazed down adoringly, baby Jesus' one working eye kept winking up at them. This caused Mary Ellen to giggle, and Mary Ellen's giggles were highly distracting. Mary Ellen was one of the prettiest girls Joseph knew, and that was distracting enough without the giggles.

I was Joseph, chosen to play the part because I was tall for an eight-year-old and could (more or less) sing. We were taking part in our church's Christmas pageant. I struggled to remember my lines, trying not to scratch where the itchy burlap was rubbing my skin, trying not to look at the winking Jesus, and trying not to think about that odd tingly feeling I was getting every time Mary Ellen giggled. It was a long night.

It was an even longer night for the real Joseph that glorious night two thousand years ago in Bethlehem. What with caring for Mary and the newborn Jesus, cleaning out the manger, dealing with a steady stream of shepherds coming out of the darkness to see the infant, and seeing the miraculous sight of a night sky full of singing angels, Joseph had his hands full. Not to mention that brilliant new star that glimmered above the manger. But Joseph kept the faith, kept doing God's work, and kept fulfilling the purpose the Lord had entrusted to him.

I think about Joseph often. Like him, I've been blessed with a child I didn't father, but whom I love dearly, nonetheless. I don't know what God has planned for my grandson Caleb, but, like Joseph, I know my job is to get him ready for God to use.

I got through that pageant so many years ago, remembered my lines, and sang my song. This Christmas, as you deal with your own versions of itchy burlap, plastic baby stand-ins for Jesus, and cute giggling Mary Ellen's, try to let God’s peace guide you through the bright baubles and shiny distractions. May you stay focused on the one crucial thing: the incredible love of our Lord, who gave us Jesus, the greatest gift of all.

Wishing a wonderful Christmas season to you all, and may God's love be with you, always.

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Teenagers! The word alone often strikes fear in the bravest hearts, but for my husband, a high school Algebra 2 teacher and youth pastor, they were no big deal.

Fear struck, however, when our church asked him to be the children’s pastor. Yes, children are small in stature, and many have only begun their spiritual journey, but these little wonders posed a giant threat to the man who’d shepherded and taught only our children.

After seeing giants in Canaan, ten of the spies returned with a bad report. Quickly, their apprehension spread fear. “We can’t attack those people; they are stronger than we are.” The bad news spread like wildfire. Had they forgotten what God had already done? The Israelites wanted to return to Egypt. They trusted in the words of men who had seen the people living in their promised land.

When fear overcomes us, we often want to return to the familiar, even if it’s not good for us. We choose to trust in what we can see and what we believe we know. It takes faith to believe the promises of our unseen God—the One Hagar called, “The God who sees.”

At first, my husband wanted to return to youth ministry. His experience leading teenagers made him comfortable, but God wanted to do a new thing in our lives. We settled into the saddle of the challenges of children and reaped giant-sized fruit for several years.

Giants are big and problems are big, but our God is bigger. It takes faith to step into the unknown. Recounting the things God has done in our lives shatters fear and builds faith. Our challenge is to move past our fear and forward into our future, trusting God knows and sees what’s ahead of us.

Tell your fear to flee and go where God leads. Don’t miss your promised land.

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The phone rang as I walked through the door.

My sister called to tell me Dad was extremely sick. As I ran to the car, I asked the Lord to be with me and my family. I drove the eight miles to my parents’ house, praying.

The ambulance and rescue squad had already arrived when I pulled into the driveway. Before getting out of the car, I bowed my head and asked the Lord to provide the strength I would need to face whatever was ahead. As I opened the car door and got out, I felt a calming presence and inner strength and peace I had never felt before.

My dad died that night. Without the comforting presence of the Holy Spirit, I could not have helped my mom and sister through that night and the days ahead. Since then, I have continued to call upon the Lord, not only in times of hardship but also every day and in every situation.

If you are going through a difficult time, lean on the God of all comfort and invite the Holy Spirit to fill you with peace. As promised in God’s Word, the Holy Spirit is there to help you through challenging times.

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My experience with chocolate can best be described as a love/hate relationship.

My children and grandchildren know I’ll receive with joy boxes of my favorite chocolates for Christmas or other holidays. Occasionally, I’ll share some pieces of candy, but more often than not I keep the box for myself. I love to enjoy two pieces of chocolate as my dessert when I sit in my recliner and watch the evening news on TV. Later, however, I regret having done so.

I’m not talking about putting on extra pounds. My rail-thin frame could use a few of them. What I do regret comes in a more subtle form. After sending my clothes through the washer, they usually look spotless. But then minute chocolate flakes explode in the dryer, creating horrifying brown patterns that are difficult at best, or even impossible, to remove.

Could this be like sin in my life?

During the pandemic shutdown—when my church wasn’t meeting—I watched a televangelist one Sunday afternoon discussing the sin of pride. Mentally, I hoped my open-book life revealed no trace of that. However, before the program finished, I said to myself, “Well, this evangelist makes as many grammatical errors on air as he did in his book.” Then it hit me—I was exhibiting pride in my knowledge of correct English usage and failing to rejoice that someone was teaching the Bible to thousands of watchers.

That sin was highly recognizable, but others in my life are not. Having grown up in the church, many probably think my life is saintly, but how wrong they are. My thoughts, words, and actions could be much better.

If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. This Scripture has the remedy for all sin: confess and ask for forgiveness. Unlike scrubbing hard-to-get-out spots, these sin blemishes can be completely removed at once.

Like the joy I experience when I receive a box of chocolates, I feel exuberant knowing I’m not bound by my mistakes. I’ll certainly make more because of my humanness, but they will not become burdensome. For now, I’m free.

Have you let Christ remove your hidden spots?

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I was on a twenty-four-hour fast while visiting my hometown.

I ventured to the bridge where my mom committed suicide and prayed. The horrific site was now a park reserve. 

Years earlier, on the Saturday of Labor Day weekend, my mom left home and never returned. The next day, I saw her suicide note on the kitchen table. My mom had said she was mad. I was fourteen and did not realize that was a warning sign.

I rode my bike to the bridge and found her car. Then I went back home and told my dad. We called the police as we raced back to the site. While waiting, I remember my dad yelling, “Liz, I loved you.” A week later they found her body in the river.

Having a mom—a recovering alcoholic—commit suicide was one of the worst times of my life. On the surface, her suicide was awful. A lot of people would have gotten mad at God and rejected Him, but this never shook my faith. Because of my mom's suicide, I can relate more to others who have experienced a loved one’s suicide.

We live in a sinful world. My mom chose to end her life. But it wasn’t God’s fault. She made the wrong choice. The good that came out of my horrible situation is that Jesus loves me. He can make good out of a suicide that doesn’t make any sense.

Hope in Jesus always exists, no matter what you’re going through. Trust Him.

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Autumn slips into southern California with less fanfare than most parts of the country.

But when it arrives, it brings chilly mornings and evenings—and the time for long pants and sweatshirts. During autumn, I bask in childhood memories of the Colorado Mountains—deciduous trees aflame with color, displaying their spectacular autumn dress. Days can be warm and deceptively summer-like, followed by a sudden dusting of snow overnight. The abrupt temperature changes can set off a tidal wave of color among the aspen trees, creating the most colorful displays of the season.

When I was a child, our family lived on a five-acre farm on the outskirts of town. As the days grew cooler and shorter, everyone was expected to gather the crops we had tended all summer. The tedious hours of weeding, watering, and hoeing brought an abundant crop. Our garden was lush with tomatoes, corn, beets, green beans, and many more vegetable varieties—enough to feed our large family in the winter. We all knew when the crops were ready, we had to harvest.

When Jesus looked at the crowds of people around Him, He saw into their hearts. He felt compassion for them because they were distressed and dispirited, like sheep without a shepherd. He referred to those hopeless, hurting people as a field ripe for harvesting and urged His disciples to pray for workers to send into His harvest.

We can be those workers, bringing comfort to the hurting. We may think someone we know is not ready to believe. While we can't see into people's hearts to know who will respond to the gospel, God knows. We should be a harvester—a witness for Christ.

The crops are ready. Head to the fields. It’s harvest time.

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When I was either four or five years old, my dad decided to teach me how to crank up the car.

Although I’m legally blind, my parents still treated me as normally as possible. One Sunday night after the church service, my mother had taken me to the car, but left her keys on the dashboard. Big mistake!

The car key wasn’t as easy to notice as they are now—they were the same size as the rest of the keys—but somehow I found it. I thought I could turn it on and off like a regular switch, but for some reason, it didn’t turn off that easily. It cranked up and started rolling backward away from the building.

Fortunately, a lady rescued me. When mamma got me home that night—need I say more—I got what I deserved and was never allowed to crank the car again.

Did the Devil make me do that? No, but he sure helped me out a lot. I’m not joking about sin although I have been funny.

God gave Adam and Eve that choice. Although Eve was deceived in the sin, she was too busy talking to the Devil. She listened with interest to what he said. Adam was also spiritually lazy. He didn’t do his part. God had told him to “keep” the garden, which I believe meant keep the Devil out.

The Devil tempts us to do things, but he can’t make us do anything. The Lord defeated our sins on the cross so we can overcome him. We have a choice to do right or wrong.

We who have the Lord in our lives should be sensitive to the Holy Spirit every day to keep us from sinning.

Ask God to help you do your part to overcome sin daily so others can see God in your life.

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A woodpile starts with only one stick.

My parents’ first house wasn't a house at all, but a converted garage. It was one room without plumbing. That's what you call "roughing it." They didn't have two nickels to rub together.

But something must've taken for them. When Dad passed away after he and Mom had been married for almost forty-five years, they had four grown kids and five grandkids. They owned their two-story home—a long way from the little place they started in. Dad had even owned his own business. Those things were worth more than money.

Often, we're prone to make the same mistakes as adults that we made in our early years. We think we must have everything at once. By doing so, we can put ourselves in dire financial straits, which can leave us bankrupt with worry.

Several people were "poor as dirt" until God blessed them with more than riches. A widow saw her meal and oil sustained because she obeyed and made Elijah a cake. Another widow—who was about to have her sons taken as bondservants to pay her debts—saw God let her little pot of oil flow abundantly so she could sell it, pay off her debts, and provide a living for them. Many were poor in health but were healed and became rich in Christ. It takes more than being penniless to be poor and more than wealth to be rich.

If it seems like we’re gathering sticks and don't have two nickels to rub together, we can take heart rather than giving up. Those are the perfect times to watch God work. Today's sticks may become tomorrow's woodpile. God created this earth from nothing by just speaking a word. He can still make something from our nothing.

When you're gathering sticks, don't lose hope. Just wait for a word from the Lord.

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I live on a battlefield.

Every autumn and spring, howling arctic cold fronts barreling down out of the Canadian Rockies meet up with moisture-laden tropical lows coming up from the Gulf of Mexico, and they have it out right over our heads here in Middle Tennessee. This meteorological battle usually results in severe tornado-producing thunderstorms.

Once, the local television stations preempted their regular programming to cover the latest round of supercell thunderstorms to march overhead. I really didn't need them to tell me that. The sight of my BBQ grill and cheap lawn chairs doing cartwheels across the lawn told me all I needed to know about the weather conditions outside.

Weather forecasters insisted I needed to be in my "safe place" immediately and that the dangerous storm was bearing down right where I lived. The problem with their advice was that our humble little wood-frame house had no safe place. There is no basement and only one completely interior space—a small, cramped linen closet. We live in a rural wooded area. No close neighbors. Outside, marble-size hail battered the windows and roof. I began to worry.

Then, my eyes fell to my grandson's illustrated Teen Bible. We had been reading the Easter story earlier, and the open book was still on my desk. This particular page had an illustration of Jesus' empty tomb on Easter morning. And there, I realized, was my safe place.

My safe place was in that empty tomb, right there, in the heart of Christ. And what it represented was Christ's victory over death. That should have been imprinted on my heart. God should not have had to remind me. Somewhere between the howling wind and the pounding hail, I took my eyes off Him. But He never let me out of His sight, nor out of His heart.

The story doesn't have a happy ending. Oh, the storm passed over our home without incident, and my family was safe. But it touched down as an F4 tornado just a few miles east, snuffing out lives and injuring scores of people. I prayed for those people, even as I thanked God for keeping us and our home safe. And I hope that the next time the sky darkens, He won't have to gently remind me that I am nestled deeply in His heart. Something I should already know.

Do you know Him? Does He have to remind you? 

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I can still taste the homemade strawberry jam, frozen in an empty Cool Whip container.

Using spoons as our make-shift chisels, my brother and I hunkered in a corner of the barn to enjoy our bounty. We knew we shouldn’t have stolen the jam from Mom’s freezer, but nothing makes thieves of little boys as quickly as sweets.

Sadly, unlike strawberry fields, strawberry jam doesn’t last forever. So, we planned our end game. After hiding the container in some hay and washing the jam off our faces, we reasoned with each other: “Who could possibly find out?” Answer: Dad. Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to us that at least one of our parents also used the barn. We paid dearly for that jam.

Sin always has consequences. It can take various forms, but ultimately it boils down to unbelief. Throughout the Old Testament, the Israelites doubted what God had told them. God warned the tribes of Reuben and Gad what would happen if they did not keep their oath to defend their fellow Israelites. Their sin would not go unnoticed. A just and righteous God cannot allow sin to go unpunished.

Despite our best efforts, we cannot keep anything from God. He not only sees our sinful actions but also knows the hidden motivations of our hearts. This knowledge should lead us to two conclusions. First, it should deter us from disobeying God. Our illusions of secrecy dissolve before an all-knowing God. Second, we should confess our sins and seek God’s forgiveness. We can’t hide our sin, so we shouldn’t try.

Are you hiding something? Jesus has already paid for it. Confess it to Him and receive His forgiveness.

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My first memory includes a dog—two, in fact.

Before I could walk on sturdy legs or talk in lengthy sentences, when all things—colors, sounds, scents—were still new and fresh from heaven, Momma would push me in a stroller. We ventured down a gravel alley that ran behind the houses on our street, dividing the homes which lined King Avenue with those that sat behind. A right turn out the garage door and ten paces forward took us to a small patch of worn grass, enclosed with a chain-link fence. This was the dwelling place of two dogs—their gender, breed, and color no longer etched in my mind. What I do remember is their scent and the happy feelings a little two-year-old girl experienced each time we happened by.

“Doggie,” I’d exclaim, pointing. “D-ood dog.”

And Momma would bend low to kiss my brow before affirming the truth we both believed. “Yes, those are good dogs,” she’d say as she pushed my stroller close enough so I could take in their dog smell—a mixture of moisture and earth and, well, dog. To me, it was the fragrance of joy.

I don’t remember if Mom ever allowed me to pet those mongrel pups or if they ever licked my outstretched fingers through the fence. I don’t know the number of times we passed by or if, one day, we discovered them gone. Like many memories from one’s distant past these, too, although beautiful moments, are like shards of stained glass—pretty to look at but no longer a part of a bigger picture.

To me, these visits of long ago were gifts. My recollections—simplistic though they are—remain treasures. If young children have a unique sense that somehow links them to heaven, then perhaps these dogs were a reflection of their Creator.

In some sort of way, perhaps our “Good dog” exclamations are much like a prayer that God Himself can decipher and know the full meaning.

The Giver of all good gifts, our heavenly Father, hears. He knows. What we’re saying is, “Good God,” because that is what He is.

What good gifts might you thank God for today? He bends low to listen.

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"Can I keep him, Mom? I'll take real good care of him. I promise!"

“I'd love to have a dollar for every time I've heard that question," Mikey's mom replied. "Yes, but he's your responsibility."

"You'll see, Mom. You'll never know he's here," Mikey said with excitement as he rushed into the backyard with his new best friend.

Something about strays and misfits appealed to Mikey. He had a heart of gold. He always wanted to help those whom others seemed not to notice. People, dogs, or pretty much any other creature. It didn't matter to Mikey; he loved them all. He once bottle-fed a baby raccoon whose mom had gotten hit by a car. That momma raccoon didn't know it, but her baby couldn't have fallen into better hands.

Mikey probably developed a compassionate heart because of his time in an orphanage. He could relate to his new dog, Bubba. He, too, had once felt unloved and unwanted. That was before Paul and Gina Jackson came to the orphanage to adopt a child. Mikey was five at the time, but when their eyes met his, he knew he'd finally found a place he belonged. Now, he was an eight-year-old with eyes full of wonder and a heart full of love. Mikey remembered those early days as he scrubbed and brushed Bubba's coat.

We can all relate to Mikey and Bubba. There was a time in our lives when we were unwanted and unfit to be loved. We were alone and unnoticed by most but loved by one. Even in the condition we were in, Jesus still loved us.

The world may have passed us by and written us off, but Jesus came to where we were. He's never met a stray or misfit He didn't love. He took us in, saving us from a miserable future of eternal separation from God. He cleaned us up and made us fit to be loved. He wasn't concerned with others' opinions; He loved us anyway. He saw something in us others couldn't see.

Your needs will be forever met, and you'll always be loved because Jesus gave His life for strays and misfits like you. 

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On one Thanksgiving, I enjoyed a round of golf with my two adult sons.

I learned the game in my mid-thirties, then taught them to play as youngsters. We spent many summer evenings walking as many holes as we could play before dark.

By their late teens, my sons could outdrive me. By the time they reached their thirties, they beat me whenever we played. I didn’t mind. I valued the time I spent with them on the golf course, and I took satisfaction in knowing I had taught them to play.

My sons once needed my help to brush their teeth before bed, to put on a sweater as they dressed for church, and to tie their shoes multiple times throughout the day. I carried them on my shoulders when they were tired, and we had a long walk ahead. I remember when they climbed on the sofa as I watched a football game, just so I could hold them in my arms where they felt safe and secure.

Whether they were happy or sad, obedient or disobedient, pungent and sweaty from playing outside or smelling like baby shampoo after a bath, they did not hesitate to draw close and feel my embrace.

James tells us we can do the same with God. Regardless of what we have done or what we are going through, God invites us to draw near.

We draw near through confession, prayer, worship, and meditation on God’s Word. When we draw near to God, He does not turn us away. He draws near to us, wrapping His arms around us when we need His comfort and assurance that He loves us.

If you need to feel God’s love and acceptance, draw near to Him, and He will draw near to you.

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We are under attack. Sin, all around us, is contagious. The world’s ways are not God’s ways. Evil forces push and pull at us, wanting us to accompany them on their deadly, destructive path. 

Many years ago, an audit manager asked me to pirate a software package—to make illegal copies. She told me it was permitted “because everyone else does it.” I refused, obeyed the truth, and left the company.

Once, after leading a Bible study at church, I was drained and beaten down. My daughter was with me and refused to sit still—a distraction. What a test. Then, someone complimented me on my presentation. I thought I had failed, but everyone signed up for the class. God rewarded my obedience.

But on one Thanksgiving, I disobeyed. As our family sat around the big table, my husband leaned over and asked if I wanted to give thanks. Stressed from the preparations and confusion, I announced, “Let’s individually thank God in our hearts.” That was disobedience. I’m sorry I didn’t allow my family to openly express their thanks to God for His amazing goodness.

People near Jesus refused to touch a leper, afraid of contracting his disease. Jesus boldly pushed past their reluctance. Allowing Himself to come in contact with the man’s leprosy, Jesus pressed His healing love into the beggar’s darkness. He obeyed his Father’s command to bring life from death.

We are created to be obedient, contagious, and spreaders of the light of God’s love in every situation. In this way, we can enjoy a deeper relationship with God as we connect to Him and each other.

Seek to glorify God as you travel toward eternal life with God. Chose to be obedient and filled with His love.  

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Frenzied with the back-to-school rush, I perched in the middle of a mountainous mass of clothing that threatened to overwhelm me.

I desperately threw the articles of clothing into three stacks. One load to donate, a second for immediate use, and a third for storage.

Buried alive is buried alive, whether in dishes, laundry, information, or to-do lists. Any one of those can leave us feeling exhausted and hopeless. Often, we find ourselves overwhelmed with these issues at the same time.

God can help us sort information just like clothing so that we do not become entrapped under a pile that steals our joy. Life bombards us moment to moment with what we should, could, and might do. Advice from various sources pour in from news articles, social media, well-meaning friends, and family. We should sort these messages according to God’s Word, seeking His wisdom on how to prioritize our lives.

Most worldly thoughts should go straight into the rejection pile. Rather, we need to review and consider the second batch of advice we receive from godly individuals.

The third message from the Word of God has relevance for both immediate and future use. The sincere and peaceful wisdom from above allows us to navigate our world under the submission of Christ. God’s will is the safest place we can be. His pure wisdom gives us rest.

Reject the cluttering thoughts of the world. Allow room in your life for the processing and use of God’s wisdom. Take out the trash. You don’t need to say yes to harmful messages or yes to every item on your to-do list. Listen to and prioritize God’s wisdom for your life.

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She was often referred to as the dragon lady.

Most people feared her. No one dared to cross her. Her tongue was full of fire. Whenever the dragon lady spoke, you could almost feel the flames. The angrier she became, the more intense the heat. Everyone learned to steer clear.

James describes the tongue as “a world of iniquity that can defile the entire body.” The Passion translation calls it “a hellish flame” and “the most dangerous part of our human body.” In other words, small but deadly. James goes on to say, “But the tongue is not able to be tamed. It’s a fickle, unrestrained evil that spews out words full of toxic poison! We use our tongue to praise God our Father and then turn around and curse a person who was made in his very image! Out of the same mouth we pour out words of praise one minute and curses the next. My brothers and sister, this should never be! (vs 8-9 TPT).

My grandparents used to say, “hold your tongue.” They believed in the adage, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all. It’s a thought-full, purpose-full, self-control issue. But we all know self-control does not come easily. It requires help from above. And God promises His help whenever we call on Him.

Here’s another time-tested adage: Today, let your words be sweet, for tomorrow you may have to eat them.

Let’s not ever be like the fire-breathing dragon lady. Instead, let’s pray, Holy Spirit, take control of my tongue. Guard my mind, my heart, and especially my words. Use my tongue to bring hope, encouragement, and peace to every situation.

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I once had a lot of trouble with my computer.

I had owned it for six months when one day I received an error message when I tried to open a Word document—the program I use to write my devotions. I couldn’t get rid of the message, nor could I type anything into the document.

My dad enlisted a man from another country to help him fix it. As they worked, my dad and the man talked to each other about the Lord. Hearing my dad talk to someone about the Lord made having computer problems worth it.  

Paul must have prayed for patience because he said we should glory in tribulation. I do not think he meant he enjoyed being beaten with rods or that he wanted to experience it a second time. He just knew God was going to get glory from his experience if Paul had the right attitude despite his circumstances.

We need to mimic Paul. Although we don’t need to thank God for everything, we need to remember that He controls every situation in our lives if we belong to Him and allow Him to have full control. My dad did this with the man who fixed my computer and with others on the phone as he tried to enlist help.  

Although we don’t have to ask God to give us patience, we should ask God to remind us to have the right attitude in all our trials, which means to have His joy in all circumstances.

Ask God to give you opportunities to witness about His love and to be patient as you do.

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I dread the day I will lose my brother.

My brother is four years older. Growing up, he was always there for me. We made up games together. Our imaginations had no limit. We collected baseball cards. We played army with friends in the neighborhood and romped in the woods nearby. He taught me everything I know about baseball, football, and basketball. As young adults, we played softball and basketball. Now, being older, we play golf together.

As an ordained minister, I had the honor to marry him and his wife. We have always had a good relationship, and I always try to let him know how much I love him. I cannot imagine my brother not being near when we need each other.

Cain and Abel had a different relationship as brothers. Animosity existed between them. So much so that Cain killed Abel over petty jealousy. I can’t comprehend this.

My brother and I were raised to love and respect each other. I am my brother’s keeper. I should have his welfare close to my heart. But I should have the welfare of others close to my heart also.

Jesus says we should love our neighbors as we love ourselves. We can love everyone through the love that God has shown us. After all, we are not perfect, yet God loves us unconditionally. Sometimes, loving others is hard, but doing so is what God tells us to do.

Ask God to help you love others as He does you.

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I sorted through family photos–the ones Mom kept in an old album in a drawer that showed a snaggle-toothed little girl swinging on a homemade swing when the world seemed carefree.

As I looked through the yellowed pages of the albums, what caught my attention was the pictures of Dad. He never seemed to smile. If anything, it was a half-hearted smirk. What I remembered was a dad that seemed happy on the outside but sad on the inside.

Then I found the source. An album of Dad’s days in the Army. He lied about his age to get into the Army, entering a year sooner than he should have. Within weeks, he was shipped out to do hand-to-hand battle in the Pacific Theatre during World War II. At seventeen, he was a gunnery sergeant, making decisions no seventeen-year-old should have to make and many times determining the lives of others. Dad suffered from PTSD and, sadly enough back in those days, the men who survived the battles suffered in silence when they returned home.

One year, my brother framed Dad’s medals as a gift. Dad smiled, thanked him, and then said, “You could buy these on the streets in the Philippines. There’s no pride in the freedom.” He was referring to the fact that locals would steal personal items off the bodies of dead soldiers and sell them on the streets. Anyone could buy a medal and claim to be a hero. It broke Dad’s heart.

Freedom had no meaning.

Paul wanted the people to know that through Christ the veil of the old law was lifted, and this new covenant of life was available to everyone. He reminded them the Spirit of Christ was with them and with that…so is freedom. What a message of hope. What a promise.

Dad came home from the war broken in many ways. His hurt stemmed not from his physical wounds but from the wounds of his heart. Was it worth the lives of his friends to know freedom was unappreciated–had no meaning?

Christ fought the earthly battle. Some might say He failed–Christ died. But we know it wasn’t a failure, for through that death we gained freedom. The promise stands strong.

This Fourth of July, remember the sacrifices, earthly and spiritually, that have been fought so you might have freedom.

Note to our American Veterans and currently serving men and women. Thank you for your service. Though the world seems to take for granted your sacrifice, never believe the lie. Your service, your time, and your sacrifice have great meaning. Thank you.

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God picks up Brenda Jean White.

He picks her up and places her on a small, carpeted landing in a stairwell just outside her office.

It is May 25th, 2011, in Sedalia, Missouri, at 12:59 p.m. Tornado sirens are sounding off and on all morning. Still, the weather remains an uneventful, dreary gray at Don's Truck Towing in Sedalia. This is where Brenda works as an office clerk. She and her fellow assistants work in a double-wide trailer that serves as the office for Don's—an office connected to Don's main building by an enclosed stairwell.

As the tornado siren howls again, Brenda glances outside. The weather has changed. Darkness seems to engulf the trees whipping back and forth. Brenda and her fellow workers decide to go down to the main building where it is safer. As they rush down the enclosed stairwell, they try to close the door behind them. It won't close. Something unseen and terrible holds it open. The tornado.

Brenda records the next seconds as a series of mental snapshots. The ceiling is obliterated. Wood paneling peels up the walls leaving trembling bare studs. Geodetic shapes swirl around and around in the dark. Through the window, she sees her car—here one minute, then gone. And then she sees IT. A twirling roaring monstrosity … Satan's carrousel. And it is right outside the window. Brenda prays, "Jesus, save us."

Brenda doesn't pray out of panic. Instead, she prays as a daughter of God. She is a Christian who has a tremendous heart for God and who lives and works her faith. And God is there. He picks Brenda up and lays her gently down on the carpeted landing. His warm peace covers her, and from the safety of His hand, she watches her world disintegrate around her. It was, she says, "The hand of God" holding her on that landing. The stairs tear away above her. She feels a tug at her elbow and realizes her pocketbook is being sucked away. She grasps it harder and fights against the winds that clutch at her and threaten to strip away her clothing.

And then it is over.

Brenda's ears are filled with dirt, and she has a souvenir from the paint shop next door. Green paint has sandblasted through her clothes onto her body. But she and her coworkers are safe.

Brenda Jean White knew where her shelter lay in a time of trouble. Without thinking, she prayed, and God answered. A lifetime of worship, of studying the Word, and of walking and talking with Christ prepared her for this single moment of terror.

When terror strikes you, will you be prepared? Lean on God, always.

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Death took two friends in one month. Two! Both were lost to those nasty C words. Cancer and Covid.

They died within days of one another. The first loss was a dear writer friend and mentor. When I first met her, I longed just to be her friend, and when God blessed me with that friendship and the fact that she welcomed me into her home and called me Sugar, I was beside myself. I was gifted with her wisdom and love. Something I will never forget. The second loss was a childhood friend who’d been my friend since we were in diapers. Both losses cut deeply.

Death is never a welcomed friend even when we know it is the kindest of solutions. We loath the pain and loss of that person, but we understand the compassion within. There never seems to be good words or right deeds when we face the family members of those who have passed. Sometimes, silence is not a bad thing. A simple hug says more than words ever could.

Paul wrote to the Christians in Rome to encourage them in a time when standing firm as a Christian was hard and when joy and happiness tended to be fleeting. Paul understood their pain and loss. Still, he encouraged them to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. In other words, be considerate of the feelings of others rather than spending our time waiting on them to feel our loss and pain. Together, we will help one another. Paul knew if the people learned this compassion, they would find peace.

My childhood friend’s daughter asked me to do her momma’s eulogy. Both honored and terrified, I wondered if I could manage it. So, as I prepared the memorial, I took heart in Paul’s words. I sought out those memories that were filled with laughter and fun, and we rejoiced together in a life well-lived. And we wept together at the loss of a soul who meant so much to us all.

Live a life filled with joy and love. Rejoice always and weep when necessary. Whether life ends sooner rather than later, God has our days planned. He will guide us through each moment, and when our time is complete—when we have finished the race—He will welcome us home where tears no longer exist.

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“But, Mom, I want that toy.”

I missed getting that toy because of the tantrum I pitched. Had I just accepted things as they were without the tantrum, Mom may have gotten it for me eventually.

Attitudes do matter. Sometimes they are good; sometimes they are bad. Bad attitudes get us nowhere with our parents. This is also true with our jobs, marriages, friendships, or any other area of our lives. Our attitudes can take us far in life or they can cause us grief and disappointment.

The Scripture about Cain and Abel is a good example of this. They each presented an offering to God. God accepted Abel’s offering but did not accept Cain’s. Abel gave his offering with genuineness while Cain gave his with insincerity and carelessness.

God knows our heart and purpose for doing things. He could see Abel was sincere in his offering, but He knew Cain was not. Later, we can tell Cain’s heart was not right because he killed his brother out of jealousy.

God told Cain he would be accepted if he did what was right, but if he did not, sin would crouch at the door, eager to control him. Cain failed to heed the warning and was “cursed and banished from the ground, which has swallowed your brother’s blood.”

We must examine our lives and ask God to forgive us for any wrongdoing. Our attitudes do matter. Just as with Cain, God knows our heart and expects us to have an offering (attitude) pleasing to Him. He expects us to freely give our lives to Him for His glory alone.

Do not let a bad attitude cause you to miss the blessings God has for you.

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Some friends and I enjoyed our coffee on the outdoor patio of a local café when a car alarm went off in the parking lot.

We ignored the alarm initially, but when it sounded again a few minutes later, one friend said, "Why don't they do something about that?" Then we realized that someone might be breaking into a vehicle.

When car alarms were introduced, everyone was aware of them and thought of them as a deterrent to crime. Now we either ignore them or consider them annoying.

Complacency is common. We can be lulled into ignoring the moral issues of our day just as we do other common occurrences such as car alarms.  It's easy to become thick-skinned and tolerant of evil, believing we are growing older and wiser. But is this thinking only of our comfort? Will it take too much effort to get involved?

Ignoring the major debates in society on moral issues will not make them go away. As I watch television and read the newspaper, I'm aware that much is out of my control. Sometimes, it seems as though everything affecting my life is decided by others. I think, What's the use? I can't change it, anyway.

Complacency is a valuable tool for Satan. He knows he will eventually wear down our resistance, and that we will abandon all matters of faith in action—which gives him access to our minds and hearts.

But we can do something when we hear the alarm. Someone said, "It is not what one does but what one tries to do that makes the soul strong and fit for a noble career.”

Look for opportunities to break out of your comfort zone of complacency, move into awareness, and put your faith into action.

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Each year, on one particular day in early spring, I look out the window to the opposite ridge to the north, and I see for the first time, color.

The black and white and gray of winter are transposed into the pastels of spring, seemingly overnight. Life renews. The sleeping world, hibernating through the bleak cold of winter, awakens and seeks the sun.

Today was that day. A brilliant sun in a clear blue sky shone down on buds bursting open in the warming temperatures. The opposite ridge across our little valley here in Middle Tennessee looks as if a child has colored it with pastel crayons. Closer to home, here on our ridge top, yellow daffodils reach up. Bradford Pears explode in snow-white petals. Emerging new leaves glow spring green. Other colors, magenta and Carolina blue, appear around the edge of the yard. The roses push out new maroon shoots. Seeds that have survived the winter reach up to the warmth.

We, too, have survived the winter—although it has been, and continues to be a hard one. Winter storms, seen and unseen, sent icy tendrils into our souls and buffeted us this way and that. The cold this winter was exceptional, and accumulating snow seemingly managed to blanket every state in the lower forty-eight, except for Florida and Middle Tennessee. But still, the warmth returned.

When I see the new rainbow of spring colors, I'm reminded of God's promise to Noah under a different rainbow. A commitment that the seeds would grow, the harvest would come in, the seasons would continue, and the earth would endure.

Life endures. Sprouts seek the sun. We endure, and we seek the Son. Remember God's promises. Immerse yourself in them as you glory in the warmth and beauty of a new spring. A spring He promises will always renew as long as the earth endures.

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She called and yelled at me.

I hung up on her—my half-sister, Alice. She called back and spoke in a quieter tone. As usual, it was hard to talk to her, and doing so caused me a lot of stress. I tried to speak, but she refused to give me a chance. In previous conversations, when she allowed me to talk, my words seemed to go in one of her ears and out the other. She never listened. She just didn’t get it.

Alice has passed away now. The sad part is, no one wanted to be around her, including her sons, her dad, her other brother, and me. In some of her angry rants, she chewed us out for not staying in touch. We tried, but it was always the same. If she had listened for once when I tried to confront her lovingly, she might have been able to have close relationships with her family. Unfortunately, she was blind to how she pushed people away. We could see it, but she would not hear us. 

That makes me think. Do I listen to the correction other people or the Lord brings to me? Taking correction can be difficult, but that correction could be from the Lord, and it could improve our life. I believe our life should prepare us for heaven. The Lord wants to help us, not hurt us, and He often uses others to speak to us.

Are you listening to the Lord?

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Illness touched our family, and we were never the same.

When I was sixteen, my father died from his fourth heart attack. As a family, we struggled during this time with his sickness. I remember the day well, as it was not a particularly good time in my family’s life. I struggled with God over my father’s death, questioning Him numerous times. I questioned God’s reasoning and asked, “Why didn’t you heal my dad?”

Some families experience mild illnesses while others experience devastating illnesses. Regardless, no illness is easy to deal with. Knowing my father was a Christian was the only way I could cope. 

In 2020 and into 2021, the world dealt with Covid-19. Many were sick, and many died from this horrible virus. We may ask why people get sick. Or why no cure for cancer exists after so many years of research. Many of our questions go unanswered.

The woman was convinced. She saw that the tree was beautiful, and its fruit looked delicious, and she wanted the wisdom it would give her. So, she took some of the fruit and ate it. Then she gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it too.This verse explains how sin entered the world. Sin—not necessarily personal sin—is the source behind all sickness, and, just as we need a cure for sicknesses, we need a cure for sin. Sin is an illness of the heart, permeating our soul and separating us from God. Sin spreads like a virus.

The good news is a cure exists in Jesus Christ—forgiveness. Those who have experienced the cure can testify to this. I can. Jesus came to earth and experienced the temptations we experience, and He overcame each one.

Since Jesus conquered sin on the cross, we can be cured (forgiven) for our sins. Although we will still suffer from physical illnesses on this earth, God has given us the ultimate and eternal cure for the cause of these illnesses.

Because Christ defeated death and sin, you too can experience the forgiveness of sin He freely gives. Have you asked Him to cure you of your sins?

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On this Mother’s Day, Mom will be 95. Her eyes still sparkle, and her smile still shines. Her health is amazing. Mom is nothing short of stupendous.

Because of my mother, I am not afraid to try new things. As the matriarch of the family, she was number three from the bottom of seven children. She’s outlived her siblings, her parents, all of her aunts and uncles, and my dad. This year, she reminded me her mother was 95 when she died.

 “I hope you aren’t putting a time frame on your life,” I joked.

“No, but I am the last one,” she said, her voice quivering just a bit.

I can’t imagine how she feels to have outlived all her immediate family. Oh, there’s my brother and myself, our spouses, her grands and great grands, but I get what she means.

Because of Mother, I’ve learned to be a jack-of-all-trades, to be innovative, to use my creativity, to never hesitate, and to try. She taught me kindness, generosity, and compassion. My mother was, and still is, a mother to many of my friends who love her as their own. She always opened her home to them but also demanded the same things from them that she demanded of me, and they loved her for that. My mom is a true mother.

Wanting to be a good person was never hard because Mom motivated me to be the best me I could. Knowing she is proud of me means a lot. She may not always agree with me, but she is always proud of me.

Proverbs instructs us to make our mothers glad, to let the one who gave birth to us rejoice. Be upstanding and good. When our mothers rejoice in us, God is pleased. But not just that. Moms being glad and proud of us offers us great encouragement, and it shows their love to others.

I know every child has not had the privilege of having a mother like mine. I wish they could have. My brother and I have tried to share her as much as we can. We realize, even with Mom’s excellent health, that her years are growing noticeably short. We are grateful for the woman she is and for the individuals she has groomed us to be.

For all, she has been to me and my children, I can say I am fortunate to pray on her behalf: Lord, may her crown be filled with the gems of heaven, and when she is in Your presence, may she feel a hundredfold, the love she has given. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. You’re a gem of a mom.

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Upon hearing my voice, a smile broke across his face.

My grandson ran to me with outstretched arms and reached up for Papaw to get him. After giving him a big squeeze, I talked to him. Within a few minutes, he leaned over toward me with his little mouth open, trying to give me a kiss the best way a one-year-old knows how.

I know that scene plays out countless times in most people's lives. But when I experienced it, I thought about how our heavenly Father feels about us. I was anxious about just getting to see Sam. I was even more thrilled when he came to me as he did.

I wonder how happy and excited the Lord gets when we come to Him with our arms up to be lifted into His arms. I imagine one of His greatest joys is for His children to want His embrace. When we greet Him with a kiss, a smile, and a hug, I am sure it melts His heart as Sam’s did mine.

Sam wasn't expecting to receive anything, nor did he want anything. He reached up for me to receive him. As a parent, there's no greater joy than for our child or grandchild to run to us, wanting nothing but our love and embrace. At that moment, our world stops, and that child has our undivided attention and love.

I'm thankful we are made in our Father's image and likeness. He anxiously waits for His children to run to Him to be picked up, embraced, and loved on. I wonder how blessed we would be if we went to Him, not for things or even answers, but just to experience joy and love.

Are you reaching up to the heavenly Father?

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My sixteen-year-old grandson, Caleb, slumped behind the wheel of the car in abject dejection.

The vehicle in question was a 1998 Ford Crown Victoria. It would be his first car, if he could get it running. Unfortunately, the twenty-three-year-old engine defied his every attempt to make it turn over and fire. It didn't help that the car had sat in the corner of the yard for almost two years.

The Ford had belonged to his great-grandfather. When my wife, Charlotte, acquired it, the plan had been to save it for Caleb. And Caleb was eager to have it. He had washed and polished it inside and out. He had drained the gas tank and replaced it with a gallon or two of good gas. He had checked fluids, cleaned filters, tightened belts, replaced wires and clamps—and still, the car refused to run. Caleb had practically memorized the owner's manual and watched countless YouTube videos. Yet, with every new test turn of the ignition, the engine remained frustratingly dead.

Seeing Caleb's frustration, I said a quick silent prayer: "Father, if there is any way this car is going to run, please guide Caleb to the answer."

Caleb slid from behind the wheel, planning to remove the jumper cables that supplied power from our Escape to the Crown Vic. But he stopped suddenly. "Opa," he called, "these cables are hot to the touch." I checked them. They were indeed hot. And with that, I knew the answer. "Thank you, Father," I silently prayed. I waited for Caleb to work it out for himself. Which to his credit, he quickly did.

"Opa, these cables aren't strong enough. That's why they're hot. We're not getting enough power to start the car!"

Have to love that boy. He was right, of course. We quickly swapped out the cheap jumper cables for a battery charger with industrial-strength connector cables. After letting it charge the battery for thirty minutes, we gathered around the car again. Caleb put the key in the ignition and turned. The crankshaft turned once and then twice, and suddenly the car roared to life. Caleb let out a whoop I'm sure they probably heard in heaven. To be honest, so did I.

Abraham, Moses, Jonah, Sampson, and Paul all failed but didn't give up. And of them all, the Apostle Peter is probably the poster boy.

God doesn't expect us to get everything right the first time. He does expect us to keep trying and not give up. Just as Caleb persevered for his “Crown” Victoria, we persevere for our “Crowns” in Heaven.

Don’t give up. Keep going. 

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In room 503, He whispered to me, and my eyes popped open. “It’s time to awaken my child. I am not done with you yet. Your story is just beginning.”

Lying in the hospital bed, motionless. No coloring in the face or frigid hands. Tubes and wires going in all directions. Still, the clamoring of all alarms and carts ceased. Doctors and nurses overflowed into the hallway—solemnly standing with tears pouring down, reflecting on the end gone wrong and the flat white line across the screen.

Mark tells of a little girl's family who mourned with angst and grief over her sickness. In desperation, they went to find Jesus. As Jesus walked with them to their house, a messenger arrived and said she had died.

As the crowd mocked Jesus, doubting His power and word, Jesus, along with a select few disciples and the little girl’s father and mother, went to the girl’s bedside. Jesus held her hand and told her to get up…and she did.

The little girl had no pulse. No evidence of life. Yet by the power of Jesus, her rib cage rose. God spoke a better word, not only to her but also to us. Because of Him, hope resurrects.

Most of us have been in this place. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually. I can relate to this little girl in more ways than one. Dead. Gone. No evidence of return. Still, as we see Jesus’ response, He didn’t even waver.

No marriage is too far gone. No body too broken. No dream is dead. No diagnosis is a death sentence. No finances are beyond reviving. No life is a waste.

Jesus longs to bring to life and awaken even the deepest and darkest of people and places. If not here on earth, for eternity in heaven.

Quiet the chaos and distractions of this world. Take Jesus at His Word and surrender all to Him.

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I asked them to live as if they were dying.

I remember the middle school years. Occasionally, I thought about dying, but most of the time I focused on living. 

During the last nine weeks of the school year, I assigned my middle-school students weekly one-page essays. One topic was “If I Only Had One Day to Live.”

Most of the papers told of selfish pursuits. Going to places they wanted to visit. Buying things they wanted to have. Spending time with friends and family.

Although a few of the papers mentioned confessing sins to God before they died, most made little mention of spiritual things. Only one student captured what I had hoped most of the students would have. She told of how she would tell everyone she met of God’s love and encourage them to trust Christ as their Savior.

As I near retirement age, I know I have more years behind me than in front of me. Death, while an unpleasant subject, is something we must all think about. All of us will die, except for those alive when Jesus returns.

We begin dying the moment we come into this world. Our bodies deteriorate rather than rejuvenate. Regardless of what techniques we use to keep them healthy—exercise, vitamins, medications, rest—our bodies will break down.

The way to live as if we’re dying requires walking by faith. Faith in Christ as our Savior and then faith in Him to guide our lives. We can put off asking Christ to forgive our sins and live with reckless abandonment—as many of my students said they planned to do on their last day—but we may not have a last-minute chance to ask forgiveness before death. Procrastination is risky business.

Jesus offers a much better lifestyle. One He calls abundant life. One where His priorities become our priorities, where His love for others becomes our love for others. One where we let Him guide us as a shepherd guides and cares for His sheep.

When loving God with all our being and others as ourselves becomes our main goal in life, we’ll successfully master living as if we’re dying.

How would you live if you only had one day? Who knows? You just might.

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The weeds were almost as tall as my mower.

It had only been three weeks since I mowed the path. Although I knew a trail existed, it seemed as if I were starting over. I raised the deck on the mower, engaged the blades, and got to work. Often, I had to slow down to make sure I was mowing in the right place. The weeds were so thick, and the way was often questionable. Thankfully, I remembered the way.

The weeds of life often grow quickly like that, covering well-worn paths and familiar roads. Many times during the chaos of this year, I felt lost. Even though I knew my way, I couldn’t see the path. I remember the meme on social media that said, “What you don’t change, you choose.” I chose to allow the weeds to grow for three weeks before I mowed the grass. In the same way, I choose the weeds in front of me when I choose to trust myself instead of God.

When we don’t change our routine to include exercise, we choose to remain unhealthy. When we don’t change our eating habits, we choose to gain weight. When we don’t read the instructions, we choose to make a mistake. When we don’t stop a habit, we choose an addiction. And when we make excuses for where we are in life, we choose to remain stuck.

The weeds may cover the path, but God can help us remember the way. Why not change whom you trust, stop leaning on your own understanding, and let God lead you through.

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Easter at church was scary for my disabled son.

As a child, he saw the flannel graph pictures of Jesus being dragged to Calvary and hung on a cross. He saw the pictures of Mary mourning at the foot of a bloody wooden crucifix. The pictures frightened him.

We dreaded Easter when our son was young. The weeks before Resurrection Sunday were filled with nightmares and frightening thoughts. No amount of chocolate Easter bunnies or colored eggs helped soothe his fear. Our son has a form of mental retardation, and with that comes a certain lack of understanding. It sometimes makes something truthful, like the sacrifice of Christ, very difficult for him to grasp.

I worried about his eternal life, doubting he would understand baptism or sin enough to repent or accept Jesus into his life. Until a wonderful man spoke at a church we attended when our son was eleven. He talked about the mercy in the sacrifice of Jesus and how God understands all those who do not.

After the service, I pulled the man to the side and asked if that mercy carried over to a child who didn’t understand? He reminded me my job was to continually expose my son to God. To instill the love of Christ into him. “God understands and knows how He made every individual. His mercy is greater than anything we can imagine.”

When Chase turned thirty, we attended a different church. He came to me one day and asked what he had to do to be a member of that church. I took him to our minister who loving drew him a picture and described sin, repentance, Jesus’ death, and the resurrection in a way I had never heard. When he was done, he asked, “Well, does this make sense?”

Chase nodded and replied, “I guess I need to be baptized.” And that night, at age thirty, he was baptized. That day he came to peace with Easter, and now when he watches the resurrection story, he wipes a tear away.

When you think others could not possibly understand, remember in his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. You too will be at peace with Easter.

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The whirling, fluttering kaleidoscope of colors around our birdfeeder was impressive.

Scarlet Cardinals, Blue jays, Goldfinches, Red-headed Woodpeckers, and a menagerie of other songbirds all flocked to the bird feeder in our front yard. Business at the feeder was busier than usual because we had been nearly a week below freezing. The four-inch cover of snow and ice didn’t help the birds either. Natural food was scarce.

Watching them interact fascinated me. In normal times, some of the larger birds, especially the male Cardinals, are territorial. They camp out on the feeder, claiming it as their own. Only their mates—roly-poly brown female cardinals, fat with eggs—can get near the food. They gorge themselves on the seeds of sunflower, safflower, thistle, flax, and corn. Eventually, they get their fill and grudgingly allow other birds at the feast.

However, on this day, with freezing temperatures and snow cover, all the birds had adopted a live-and-let-live attitude to the free food. They hovered and fluttered and waited their turn, diving for an open space at the feeder as soon as one became available. The bare trees in our front yard seemed alive with colorful birds, inching closer to the feeder by hopping from limb to limb.

Also watching the show were our cats Fritz and Chipmunk. They, too, seemed to have adopted a casual attitude toward the birds. They contented themselves with watching the activity. They lay curled on the wicker chairs by the firepit where a couple of logs burned slowly, keeping them warm. Only when a bird flew too close to the porch did they chitter a cat’s frustration warning: “Don’t make me get up from here. You won’t like it if I have to get up.”

For Christians, too, a spiritual winter is fast approaching. Even now, the temperature is dropping, and the clouds, heavy with snow, drop lower and lower. The signs are everywhere. The abundant nourishment we have used to feed our spiritual selves vanishes at an alarming rate, and we find ourselves in an increasingly hostile world. We are strangers in a strange land.

Even so, we still have the delightful nourishment, the “feeder” our Father in heaven has provided. We have His wonderful Word, the Bible, our roadmap to Him that He so graciously has given us.

Eat up! Gorge yourselves on His words of love and grace. Eat, now, while the manna is here...because the winter of our Christianity is coming.

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“You’re a goonus.”

“Oh, yeah? Well you’re a nincompoop!”

“No. You are!”

These are the backbiting words of my four-and-six-year-old boys, arguing over who gets to be the main character in their favorite cartoon. It’s a big deal. Obviously.

As I head over to break up the brawl, I can’t help but stifle a laugh as I listen to these boys dig deeply into their bag of insults to throw at one another. If the worst thing I get called is a goonus, I’ll count that as a good day. Unfortunately, as we grow older, the arsenal of insults is transformed from seemingly innocent words into daggers that cut and scar our intended target.

Whoever coined the phrase, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” must have been the tin man in search of his heart, because those of us who do have hearts know that words can lift our spirits or tear us down. Our words do not just drop off into thin air once they leave our mouths. They penetrate the mind and spirit of the receiver.

Gun instructors say, “Never point a gun at something you do not intend to shoot.” What would happen if we looked at our words like a loaded gun? Would we be more hesitant to fire that insult, knowing that, much like a loaded gun, our words can deeply wound or possibly kill?

Fortunately, our words do not physically harm like a gun, but they do affect others spiritually—and that goes deeper than we know.

Will there be times when we fail to speak love? Yes. Should we fester in guilt for failing? No. God did not create us to be perfect. We are not meant to be almighty. But take heart. We have a God who helps us. This life is about recognizing our dependency on God in all things, including the small muscle that packs a big punch.

When you feel as if you are about to lose control, run to the One who is in control.

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She strolled into my room, plopped into my teacher’s chair, and said, “Hey.”

Carol was a three-year student of mine—a talkative young lady who feared moving on to high school the following year. The security of middle school seemed to comfort her. As the end of her last year in middle school neared, she visited my room almost every morning before the bell rang just to talk. In her mind, she was my favorite student, and her gracing my room made my day. I must admit, we did have some interesting conversations.

One morning, a classmate of Carol’s burst through the doorway as we conversed. “I have some news that’s going to make your day.”

“I’m in here. I’ve already made his day.” But her quip didn’t quell her classmate.

Carol’s classmate divulged the good news. Her aunt lived in Texas and had been reading devotions in a magazine and noticed one tagged with my name. She phoned her sister. “Do you know Martin Wiles?” She told her I taught her daughter. “Well, I’ve been reading his devotions, and we are using them at our church. I’ve also bought one of his books.”

Pride welled within me. And surprise. Someone had discovered my devotions…and read them. The young lady beamed a smile. “See, Dr. Wiles. You are famous.”

I knew better than that, but I did take pleasure in knowing my devotions impacted people. I quickly squelched those prideful thoughts and mentally passed on the praise to God. Isaiah did the same.

Satan loves nothing better than to convince us we’re responsible for our successes. God desires that we have a humble heart. An attitude that recognizes we’re nothing without Him. Apart from His inspiration, my devotions—or anything else I write or do—holds little value. But with God’s guidance, my writing can race across the world, touching the exact people God wants it to encounter.

God authors our gifts and talents. He creates our unique personalities. He brings the two together and then presents us with opportunities to use them for His glory, making the world a better place. He initiates, guides, and finishes the process. Our job entails obeying and trusting.

When good things happen in your life, don’t forget to pass along the praise to God. After all, He engineers the results of all you do.

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Mom and Dad struggled to stay afloat.

Dad stopped working at sixty-two. Too many years of crawling on his knees in damp coal mines left him with black lung. Paying the bills with Social Security as the only source of income was almost impossible. Mom had to work part-time at various minimum-paying jobs.

Dad applied for a miner’s pension and for black lung benefits. He filled out papers, answered countless questions, and submitted to numerous physical examinations. Mom and I spent much time praying they would grant the benefits. But Dad wasn’t a Christian, and felt we were wasting our time.

After several months of prayer, we received the good news that the benefits had been granted. Now, Mom and Dad were able to enjoy simple luxuries they couldn’t afford prior to receiving the pensions. Things like a bathroom, hot water, and a better car.

Then my husband left me. A homemaker, like my mother, I also was forced to find employment. Although I had no experience working outside my home, through a series of “mini-miracles,” I began work as a secretary one month after my husband left. I didn’t have a car, and the job was fifty miles from my home. My parents gave me a used car, complete with insurance and a license plate.

Mom and Dad are now frail, and their health is declining. Through the years, they helped me, and now it is my turn to ease their load.

God is omniscient and knows the path He has planned for us. His provision is always perfect. He answered my prayer that Mom and Dad would receive financial help, and He used that answer to meet my needs many years later as well.

God has a plan for your life and wants to fulfill it. You may not receive all “yes” answers to your prayers, but you will receive what God knows is best.

Open your life to the Lord so you can experience His plan.

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In the rising sun of an early spring day, I noticed a thousand silvery strands covering my yard.

Although my grass was still more winter brown than spring green, the spiders were out forming their webs. Sticky strands that would be death traps for the thousands of insects soon to emerge as the weather warmed.

Satan has laid his sticky webs, his death traps, across my life as well. I’m sorry to say, I’ve managed to get entangled in them with a repetition that might be funny if it weren’t so life-threateningly sad.

First example. Halfway through college, on an end-of-year beach trip, a friend handed me a Rum and Coke—my first taste of liquor. The next few days in Myrtle Beach were fantastic. My natural shyness was washed away by the Rum. I discovered I was pretty smooth when I was not being shy. I got the prettiest girl (her name was Toni) on the beach and fell head over heels over her. Of course, I wanted that feeling to continue.

But in three months, I was an alcoholic, living to drink. In another month, as I read the inevitable “Dear John” letter from Toni, I heard Satan laughing. I was trapped in a hell that didn’t stop until I was on my knees before God in a jail cell.

Another example. I dated the same girl throughout my junior and senior years of high school. Her name was Cathy. She was the first girl I had seriously kissed. I took her to both the Junior and Senior Proms. We were a good match, comfortable with each other. She was a sweet, innocent soul.

But then Satan sent another girl across my path. This girl was not so innocent. And I, being the fine, upstanding guy I was, dropped Cathy without so much as a goodbye so I could chase after the lusty new girl. I will forever hear Cathy’s last words to me, speaking through tears over the phone: “What did I do?” And I heard Satan’s hideous laughter.

Lately, Satan has tried a different tack. He whispers in my ear: “Look at how good a writer you are! Look at how people love your writing. You’re the greatest!”

No, I’m not. The truth is, I only try to write what my Lord tells me. These are His words, graciously given to me to put down on paper. If my devotions move people, and I hope they do, then I want them to praise Him and give Him the glory.

The Lord gave us an instruction manual: His Word. We should use it. For a long time, I didn’t do that, and I paid the price.

Please put His words in your heart today. Arm yourself against Satan’s laughter.

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“What’s that?” my three-year-old grandson asked as he pointed at a cicada shell attached to the bricks.

I stooped. “Oh, that’s a cicada coming out of his shell. See the split on the top? He’ll push through that hole and leave the shell behind. He starts out living underground, but when the time is right, he will come up and shed his old shell. Then he’ll fly up into the trees and sing.”

“Why’s he singing? What’s he saying?”

I laughed and ruffled his hair. “Listen. Do you hear that?”

The air hummed with the sound of the cicadas in the warm sunshine. My grandson’s face lit up as he heard the song. “He’s singing because he’s happy to be on the outside instead of in the dark and out of that old shell. He’s probably thanking God for making him new and giving him wings to soar.”

I thought about my own emergence. God took me out of the darkness and exposed me to the Son. He brought me out of my shell and birthed a new me. One with a new heart, future, and perspective. One in which I can sing.

What about you? Have you been released from the old shell holding you captive? Are you a new creature in Christ, soaring up high and singing?

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I don’t remember last Valentine’s Day.

My husband and I were running on autopilot. The trouble began in August 2019 and dragged on until February 2020—surgery day. The love of my life faced multi-procedural cancer surgery and bladder removal. The last words the doctor said still ring in my ears: “We’ll do our best to bring him through this.”

My knees weakened as the elevator doors closed. I leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor. “Oh, Lord, Your will be done. Just help me understand. Just love him.”

I managed my way back to the waiting room where my sons and three couples of friends waited. It was an amazing thing, the sacrifice they made. Driving hours and flying in from other states to stand by us. What love.

Love is a hard word to define. It’s best defined by actions. When we see the action of love, it touches our hearts, digs into the soul. It sticks and defines into the meaning it needs to have.

As I waited for my husband’s life-saving surgery to complete, I looked around the room and saw the act of love in my friends. They’d come to make sure my boys and I were … loved. They selflessly stepped to the forefront, and their hearts burst forth. The love they felt solidified, and I felt it. They never left our side until they knew Tim was fine.

Paul did his best to make the Corinthians understand that love is more than a word. He emphasized that we can have amazing things to boast about, but if we do not ACT love, they mean nothing. The act of selfless love moves mountains. It does change lives. It’s the most effective love.

It’s not about the Valentine’s Day hoopla. It’s about the act of love. Examine those in your life who love without hesitation. Those who love using action to change things. The Father loves you without hesitation. He loves you fully. He loves you with the act of love.

Emulate God’s love ... and love.

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Would I still have a job?

The director of a local university called two weeks before I was scheduled to teach a class. “Unfortunately, you don’t have the qualifications for the upcoming class you agreed to teach,” he said. “You need a master’s degree in computer science instead of your MBA degree. But we might be able to skip that requirement with a letter from your alma mater’s department head stating he would hire you as an instructor if given the opportunity.”

I gave him permission to call the dean of the accounting department. I hung up the phone, dropped to my knees, and gave it to God. I knew He was in this. I thought about the conversation later in the day, but I obediently gave it back to God and tried not to worry.

Later that same day, the director called to say he’d spoken to the department head. Not only was my former dean willing to write a letter of recommendation for me, he also had an opening for an instructor and would consider hiring me.

The local director went on to say, “When we have an MBA program, I hope you will be available to teach those classes.” 

God gave the apostles an opportunity to keep telling others about Jesus Christ—and they took it.

I will thank God for every door He opens today. I hope you will too.

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About ten years ago, Father Kirby adjusted his cap on his head and called out to me as he headed out the back door.

"Breakfast was excellent,” he said, "Thank You!" He continued, "I left your money on the table. See you in the morning!"  

I called to my grandson Caleb to put his shoes on and make sure his "Paw-Paw" didn't get lost. Out of curiosity, I went to see what Father Kirby had left by his breakfast dishes. Sure enough, he had left money. A quarter, a dime, and a penny. Thirty-six cents. A tip, I suppose, for his breakfast. Or perhaps he thought he was paying the bill.

Father Kirby was ninety-one years old at the time, and, physically, was as healthy as could be. A career in the Army saw to that. His issues were mental, a touch of Alzheimer's. More than a touch, really. He was living with us that summer—a challenge for all of us.

The constant questions were enough to drive us insane. If they had been different questions, maybe it would have made a difference. But Father Kirby locked in on a particular issue and asked the same question over and over. He would have forgotten the answer, and even that he asked the question, within seconds of us finishing the answer. And so it started over.

Finally, I hit upon the idea of writing a brief history of where he was, who we were, and why he was living here. When the questions started, I simply let him read the history and find the answers for himself. Of course, sometimes when he started in, I felt like shouting, "JUST READ THE PAPER, FATHER!" I didn’t, of course.

In a sense, we have a paper full of answers to our questions, too. A book, actually. Our Bible, the living Word of God. I wonder how many times, listening to my prayers, that my Father in heaven has wanted to shout, "JUST READ THE BOOK, CHILD!" He doesn't, of course.

I read my Bible every day. It isn't enough. I know I should be immersing myself in the Word and that there are times when I let the television or the computer or the latest bestseller distract me from where I should be. I'm continually falling short. But my Father, my God, is patient. Thank goodness He doesn't shout.

Later that night, I slipped the thirty-six cents back into Father Kirby's pants. I knew I'd find it on the table, again, somewhere down the road. And I did. But that's okay. It reminded me, again, of how patient my Lord is with me. Thank You, Father.

Make a regular practice of thanking God for His patience.

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For a brief time, my husband David required home-health services.

During most visits, I remained close to be available for questions or instructions. While visits were cordial, I was anxious to resume my busy schedule.

One day, another lady replaced his usual nurse. David never missed an opportunity to learn whether or not our first-time visitors had a relationship with Jesus. The substitute’s drawn face, leathery skin, and sallow appearance—plus her somewhat awkward demeanor—exhibited signs of a difficult life. When David asked his usual question about Jesus, she shared a moving testimony about God’s faithfulness in her life.

The following visit, David’s regular nurse informed us that her substitute had been killed in an automobile accident. The news impacted me more than I would have ever expected. Although doubtful we would have seen her again on this earth, something about the finality of her life struck me. Her affirmation of God’s deliverance through the storms she had weathered was more important than whatever work responsibilities captivated my attention.

Opportunities to share or hear others talk about Jesus’ love are often fleeting, and I quickly move on with the many tasks I think are important.

Jesus talked about misplaced priorities when He visited with His friends, Mary and Martha. Martha, occupied with many important chores to her, complained about Mary’s lack of help. Martha failed to understand that those activities didn’t compare with spending time with Jesus. He reminded her, “There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”

God used the untimely death of a stranger to remind me how numerous people cross my path almost daily—many of whom I’ll never see again on earth. God instilled in me the importance of listening to and sharing about the sacrifice for our sins at every opportunity. My lifetime is uncertain, but as Jesus shared with Martha, my priority must be to put Him first in my words and in my actions.

Where are your priorities?

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Walking is my daily exercise.

Walking about my neighborhood—praying, observing, breathing fresh air, soaking up the warmth of the sun, hearing the rain fall on my umbrella—gives me great pleasure. I love exploring laneways and sharing my faith when opportunity beckons.

One day was no different than any other. Without warning, I noticed two vicious-looking dogs leap into my right peripheral vision. They barked furiously and bounded with the speed of light toward me.

A short chain suddenly stopped one, but the other kept coming. I had no time to fear or run. I spontaneously reacted by shouting, “Stop in Jesus’ name!” and held up my hand. The dog immediately stopped and stared in disbelief—almost frothing at the mouth in rage.

As I continued my walk unscathed, I made a mental note of the long chain attached to the dog’s collar. This is how God delivers His people. We will face evil, danger, and threats in life, but trusting God to be true to His Word will bring a deep sense of safety and peace.

Jesus taught His disciples to pray, “Deliver us from evil,” for He knew the Father is pleased to answer this prayer.

Know that God will deliver you from evil as you follow His instructions.

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After the shock wore off, I thought, how will I support myself?

My husband had pastored a rural church for only ten months when he and a young mother from the congregation drove away together one Sunday night around midnight. He returned the next morning to gather his belongings and then was gone from my life forever.

I soon realized I needed a way to support myself. I had no experience working outside my home. For twenty-seven years I had been a wife, mother, and homemaker. I felt I had no qualifications for anything, but God was bringing His plans to fruition.

A woman from our former church told me about a temporary job where her daughter worked as a secretary. The job paid only minimum pay, but I felt the Lord’s leading. One major problem stood in my way. My husband had taken our only car, and I was living in the church parsonage, thirty-five miles from the job. I had no money to purchase a car. I felt stranded.

A few days before the job began, someone gave me a used car, complete with license plate and insurance. I had worked at the job only one week when the secretary got upset, quit, and recommended me to replace her. I was hired as the district secretary for a non-profit organization that assisted cancer victims.

You might say, “That could never happen to me.” But God works in many ways, and it could happen to you. He has a plan for the lives of His followers, and when we willingly give Him control, wonderful things happen.

God’s timing may not correspond with ours, but He loves His children. Like a loving father, He will open doors we thought were closed forever.

Allow the God of new beginnings to work out His plan in your life.

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When I fished years ago, my target was to know which fish to aim for and to use the correct bait to lure the catch. I joined in the fun of fishing for freshwater trout by baiting the hook with salt-water mussels. “Delicious,” said the trout, as I reeled them in. I had used the right bait.

When calling two of His disciples, Simon Peter and Andrew, to follow Him, Jesus said He would make them fishers of souls. They immediately left their nets and followed Jesus.

As I aim to live the Christian life, God commands me to set an example. This spreads my faith in Jesus Christ. I pray to become a better Christian while caring for a geriatric.

I also need to understand the qualities and nature of the people for whom I fish. I must show them the light of the gospel. God knows which fish are His and which fish I should target. If I pray and seek His wisdom and guidance, He will send me on deep soul-fishing jaunts. When I lead by example, with tolerance and patience, I use the right bait.

I get such guidance in the quiet stillness before dawn as I meditate on Jesus’ healing hands and try to see the world through spiritual eyes. All my gifts should magnify Him. I turn to my Bible, remain still, and know He is God.

Our Christian message contains the love and life of Jesus. Trust your heart to Him, and seek His wishes as you fish for souls.  

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On the last day of this past October, about an hour and a half before it turned into November, my father had a few bites of ice cream, took a last look around, and said goodbye to this world. I got the call a few minutes later. He was gone.

Robert Eudean Spencer, "Bobby," and later "Bob" to his friends (my mother affectionately called him "Bobert") had been here awhile. Ninety years altogether, plus six months. He had seen a lot in all those years and been through a lot more.

At seventeen months, polio found him—the only person in Guilford County to contract the disease in 1931. The illness left his young body twisted and wracked, muscles atrophied, and little Bobby crippled for life. If that weren't enough, at seven years of age, he contracted pneumonia, which came within a whisper of taking his life.

My Dad was, to put it simply, the kindest, gentlest soul I've ever encountered. He was universally loved by all who knew him, and he had a heart for others that knew no bounds.

In all my years, I only heard my father raise his voice once. And no, amazingly, it wasn't at me, although goodness knows I gave him enough reasons to do so. With me, when I had yet again put "Be Stupid" first on my list of things to do on a particular day, Dad would simply look at me, shake his head, and say sadly, “What were you thinking?” Every time, his question cut me to my soul.

Dad loved Christmas. He loved giving. Some of my earliest memories are of him with his camera on Christmas morning, snapping pictures as my brother and I delighted at what Santa had left for us under the tree. And Dad lavished Christmas on my mother, often reducing her to tears with his knack for finding the perfect gift.

Dad will be with Mom in heaven this Christmas, and that's okay. I'll miss him, but to see all the Christmas spirit the season brings is to see him. I'm sure if I turn my head fast enough, I'll see him in the corner by the Christmas tree with his camera, waiting with that quiet smile of his to take another holiday picture.

In the same way, the Christmas we celebrate is just a picture of the incredible love God has for us. He gave us a gift in our Lord Jesus that is the most wonderful Christmas present we could imagine. A child, in swaddling clothes, in a manger, given to bring us back to Him.

Merry Christmas, Dad. I know you're having the best one yet.

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A few days before Thanksgiving, I snuggled in a warm quilt and wool blanket, waiting for sleep to come.

Work pressed in. As I tried to clear my mind, I realized the holiday season was upon me. The pressures of deadlines left me without the time I wanted to think about Christmas and the gifts I hoped to make for friends and family.

My life—influenced in part by the world outside (work)—dictated “no room for them in the inn.” I imagine Bethlehem was crowded and, with that, noisy. Perhaps not quite like Black Friday, but still throngs of people who did not have the essence of Christmas in mind.

In our efforts to capture how it might have been for Joseph and Mary that night in the stable, we're reminded a stable isn't quiet either. Even so, it seems the sounds of animals and nature would be more soothing than the sounds of the city.

Some people are able to withdraw into a place of silence within themselves, even when surrounded by people or noise. I wrote this piece as I sat in the entrance hallway of a busy downtown restaurant waiting for my husband to arrive.

We don't know how much waiting time Mary had before Jesus was born. Later in the story, Luke wrote that after the shepherds had come and gone, "Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19). That tells me she had the ability to find a place of silence within herself, because by that time she also had a newborn to tend to.

We need to nurture an ability to find silence before God amid our busy lives. My goal for this Christmas season is to make room in my heart and in my life for Him and to take time to ponder and enjoy the essence of Christmas.

Think of one specific way you can make room for Jesus in your life this year.

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I sat beside my husband, anxiously waiting to see how his body would tolerate the medicine infusion at the cancer center.

Sadness looms in a cancer center. Life and death hang in the balance, and hope can be hard to find. As the nerves and tears got the best of me, an older gentleman decked in a bright, red three-piece suit, complete with hat and feather, bounded in. He knew all the nurses by name and lit up the room with joy as he moved from station to station giving happy greetings, hugs, and handshakes. Suddenly, the air lightened up, and smiles spread across every face. Things didn’t seem so heavy or dark anymore.

The sad parts of life get heavy sometimes. We encounter hard days and tough moments—times like that first cancer treatment—when it’s hard to find joy. Some days, we simply struggle to put one foot in front of the other.

I am grateful for a God who loves us enough to know when to send those light bringers our way. Just like He sent me and others that man in the red suit who waltzed in and left a trail of joy. Light bringers come in the form of friends, family, strangers, children, and pets. They always show up on time, dancing a sparkling little jig and bringing Jesus’ joy right into the door of our souls. 

We live in a dark world filled with pain and heartache, and we need the joy of light bringers. I’m so grateful for the ones who have come my way recently. We don’t always have to wait on the light. Sometimes, we need to be the light taker. One text. One call. One prayer. One encouraging word. They all can make a difference.

So, put on that bright red suit and waltz right into someone’s life with joy and light this week. Be the light of Jesus the world so desperately needs.

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While touring Cambodia in 2007, I was in an auto accident.

My husband and I were on a remote narrow-lane dirt road when the driver—driving too fast—lost control of the SUV. We rolled over twice and landed in a dry rice field. My husband and I suffered vertebrae injuries, our son walked away, the fourth passenger suffered cuts and bruises, and the driver fled the scene. The people who were in the car behind us pulled us out through the sunroof.

Two men who attended us were doctors. I believe they were God’s provision. One of them had almost cancelled the trip, but his wife had urged him to go without her. He was formerly a Peace Corps volunteer who practiced emergency aid in primitive conditions.

The nearest hospital was a two-hour ride, which I made in the back seat of a car, wearing a ripped T-shirt and lying on a makeshift back brace made of sticks. While spending eleven painful days in the Thailand hospital, I could have moaned, “Why did this happen to me?” or “Praise the Lord, I got into an accident!” I did neither.

Instead, I said, “I can’t wait to see how You are going to get me out of this pickle.” I stood on my faith, knowing God would pull me through. I was in the best hospital in Southeast Asia.

For the first time, I had purchased travel insurance because I wanted the cancellation option. That insurance paid all the medical costs, including the airlift to Thailand and business class air back to the United States.

The Thai doctor advised, “Lie on your back as much as possible for the next one hundred days, and then you will be fine.” I did, and he was right.

In times of sudden events, when we don’t know what is going to happen, we can stand on our faith, knowing God goes before us, beside us, and behind us.

Praise God without worry. Stand on your faith. You can expect miracles when you obey God.

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I stood in a long shuffling line of inmates that slowly approached the prison “Mail Room.”

The Mail Room was actually a separate building. We were lined up in front of a small window where the Florida Department of Correction's officer assigned to handle our mail read, censored, and dispensed our contacts with the outside world.

I was in prison, a victim of my own stupidity. It was Fall, which throughout my life had been my favorite time of year. Now, my spirits were at rock bottom. I had been here a little over a year, and despite my Lord's promise to me that I would go home, I could see no end to my incarceration. I was stuck here. I missed home. I missed the change of the seasons.

It was bad enough seeing the outside world through a double chain-link fence topped with razored serpentine wire, but to watch the distant Ocala National Forest just slowly turn from green to olive to brown was even more depressing.

My heart was empty. I didn't think God was listening to me anymore, but as I stood in the line, I silently prayed again, “Please, Father, I just want to go home. Please.”

Finally, I got to the mail window. I was fortunate in that my dad wrote to me almost every day. Sometimes just a couple of lines. Usually, some clippings from the local paper about life at home in Raleigh, and later Lincolnton, North Carolina. Dad was great at writing. And the result was that I was in the mail line every day, and the mail officer knew me perhaps better than she knew some of the other inmates.

She looked up as I approached, and I saw something in her face as she saw me. She motioned me to step to the side door. This had never happened before, but I did as I was told. 

She opened the side door and said, “I can't let you have this, but I'm going to let you see it.” She handed me a large manila envelope. It was from my dad. I opened it and out slid a handful of red, yellow, and orange leaves that Dad had evidently picked up in the yard, and knowing how much I missed the seasons, had sent to me. My eyes welled up as I fingered them for a second and smiled at the thought of Dad walking through the yard, picking up leaves like a little boy. 

“I'm sorry I can't let you have them,” she said. I struggled to keep the tears back and mumbled something about it being okay. And fingering the leaves one last time, I handed them back. 

“Thank you,” I said. 

“You're welcome,” she replied.

And then, as she shut the door, she said, “Watch your feet.”  

Glancing down automatically as the door clicked shut, I saw at my feet a bright scarlet sugar maple leaf. She had dropped it there for me. A small kindness. I scooped it up, stashed it in my Bible, and carried it with me until I eventually went home.

God answered my prayer, not in my way but in His. I didn't get to go home, not yet, but He brought a small piece of home to me. And He told me He was listening to my prayers, always.

Thank You, Father, again.

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When I was young, my grandmother lived with us.

In our small house, my sister and I shared a bedroom with her. She was a wonderful woman with godly influence in our lives. One of my fondest memories was hearing her pray every night. The sound of her talking to the Lord comforted me, and I never forgot those moments. 

Paul reminds Timothy about the godly influence of his grandmother and mother. They had impacted his life. What a wonderful heritage for us to live out our faith before our children and grandchildren, just as my grandmother did for me and my sister.

Sometimes, the small things make an impression on those around us, like thanking God for our meal, reading our Bible, or praying for others. These are simple things we can do daily that honor and glorify God. Our actions can be more meaningful than our words.

Even though Grandmother was a wonderful witness to me, I still had to respond to God's call in my life and accept the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. I finally understood Jesus had already done everything for me. All I had to do was pray, “Lord Jesus, thank You for dying on the cross for me. Forgive me of my sins, and come into my heart as my Lord and Savior.”

The gospel is simple, but the Holy Spirit must prepare our hearts to receive Jesus and to surrender to His wooing. Once we have received the gift of salvation, God wants us to share our newfound faith with others.

Thank God for the opportunities He gives you to share your faith.

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If only life’s problems could be solved with wood putty.

My husband once built me a small table. I asked him to make it quickly since others would rarely see it. He ran screws through the top rather than in some fancier way. “I’ll cover it with wood putty,” he said, which turned out to be sawdust and glue.

When we are hurt, we often want to carefully examine the offense and magnify the problem—not cover it with sawdust and glue. We skip over love, even though the Bible tells us it covers a multitude of offenses. We go straight to being mad and hurt and nursing a grudge. But we can avoid those angry feelings and reactions using three ways.

Examine ourselves emotionally. Are we in a vulnerable, already hurt, state of mind? Are we going through something unrelated to this situation that primes us for being upset? Reflecting on these questions could put the offense in perspective. We may conclude the offense normally wouldn’t have bothered us.

Look at ourselves physically. Are we tired or hungry? We laugh at those Snickers commercials about hunger making us a different person because there’s some truth to it. Consider how Elijah was able to press on after he despaired to God. God provided him with sleep and food. We shouldn’t decide to be angry or scared if we’re not feeling the best.

Review ourselves spiritually. Are we acting out of our flesh, or thinking about how God would have us respond? We can extend the same grace to others that we would want extended to us.

Sure, some big offenses can’t be worked out so simply. But many small, everyday problems—where people meant no offense and probably didn’t even realize they offended us—can. At the very least, these strategies can help us not speak so quickly and help us avoid saying words we will later regret. And most of all, they will show our love and Christ’s love to others.

Which of these ways should you try so you won’t be so easily offended?

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Thanksgiving 2009. I sat in church, holding my first grandson, Aidan, on my lap. Tears streamed down my face as we sang, “How Great Is Our God.” Yes, God is a faithful, generational God.

When I was twenty-nine, I had a face-off with cancer. I won the battle, but the experience left me unable to bear more children. Although we already had a son, we wanted to adopt more children to complete a family of three.  

My husband and I were a mixed marriage between Chinese and Austrian. When the Vietnam War ended and many refugees came to the United States, a person involved in placing Vietnamese children knew a couple who preferred to have their child adopted into an Asian family. We were the only Asian family he knew. Of course, we would take the child. At two days old, James became ours in September 1975.

A few years later, we searched for a daughter. Asian countries stopped allowing their children to be adopted out of their native land. To find another Asian child would be difficult and take perhaps five years.

After submitting our application, we settled in for the wait. Within thirty days, we got a call to adopt a two-and-a-half-year-old Korean girl. She had been brought to the States before Korea closed its doors to foreign adoptions. The adopting mother had fallen ill and could not care for her, so she was placed up for adoption again. Since the former family had two young boys like ours, the agency thought our family would be the perfect fit. Within a week, we had a new daughter. This young girl grew up, married, and is now the mother of Aidan, the grandson who sat on my lap.

When I was twenty-nine, the joy of being a grandmother was in the distance, but I knew it could happen. The Enemy tried to steal that “grandmother’s joy” from me, but God had other plans.

Things may not work out the way we envision them, but God knows our heart’s desire and can make a way through the impossible.

Trust God through what seems like your impossible times.

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I was hooked up to a machine for apheresis (platelets donation) at the local Red Cross center. 

Not long before, I didn’t know what a platelet was, much less that someone would want mine. Platelets are small disk-shaped bodies found in the blood of vertebraes and are also associated with clotting.

Time crept at a snail’s pace. To scratch my nose or move my arms was prohibited. I squeezed a bright-red rubber ball every five seconds so the blood could flow steadily from my left arm into the tubes of a machine before returning to my right arm.

Tensed muscles left me completely exhausted. My body tingled and shivered from the cold room and depleted calcium. After one grueling hour, the nurse asked if I could remain on the machine another hour and donate a double dose. “Your platelets are plentiful and healthy,” she added. I reluctantly complied. 

Afterward, in the recovery room, I reflected on the process of giving life and hope to a medical patient whose blood could no longer produce platelets. Hopefully, mine would flow into someone else’s veins soon after I left the center.

The spiritual analogy is richer. Christ did the same for us. His Spirit cleanses and strengthens us in discomfort, blessing others through our temporary suffering. But we must allow Him to sift out the greed, selfishness, and pity-platelets in our bodies. Sometimes, we need to hook up to the machine for a longer period so we can give a double dose. 

Our sacrifices can give hope to the hurting as Christ’s Spirit cleanses our hearts and purifies our lives.

Make a point to submit to God’s purification process.

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My wife, Charlotte, and I sat at the dining room table and opened our Official Ballots from the Maury County Election Commission.

We decided to do our ballots at the same time so as not to make a mistake. We had heard absentee or mail-in ballots could be rife with hidden traps that would disqualify a voter’s ballot and cause it to be trashed and not counted. So, we carefully opened the envelopes and, together, went down the list of instructions line by line.

She and I opened each envelope, marked our ballots, signed where we were supposed to, resealed our return envelopes, and found a couple of stamps. Then, I handed our ballots to our trusted longtime mailman, and we were done.

We don't have many responsibilities as citizens of the greatest republic the world has ever known. Mostly, we just enjoy the advantages our way of government has given us. Yes, we pay taxes and occasionally have to take off work for jury duty. And if we argue vehemently over the direction our country should take every four years, that is a right our government has given us as well.

A national election is coming Tuesday, November 3, the likes of which our country has not seen since 1860. Now, I know every election cycle we hear the same hyperbole about how dire and vital that year's particular election might be. This year might live up to the billing.

During the last national election in 2016, nearly 25 million Christians did not vote. About 1 in 5 self-professed eligible Christians do not even bother to register to vote. In a world where most Christians are persecuted and oppressed by governments they cannot change, our voting habits in the United States are a travesty and a disgrace.

Jesus said in Matthew 22:21, “Therefore render to Ceasar the things that are Ceasar's, and to God the things that are God's.” We owe it to our fellow Christians around the world who live under governments that hate them for their faith, but who are powerless to change it, to exercise the most fundamental right we have as Americans.

Get out and VOTE.

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If there is anything that approaches my dread of going to the dentist, a trip to the Division of Motor Vehicles would. 

But my daughter needed to renew her license, so off we went. As we waited, I noticed one of the clerks was very friendly, funny, and engaging with his patrons. I hoped my daughter would get him when they called her number, and she did. The clerk asked her questions that helped him know her and that showed genuine interest in her. It made me think about a few things.  

Whether we are CEO of a Fortune 500 company or an employee at the DMV, we can work heartily as for the Lord. Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.

The DMV employee exemplified this biblical principle by taking time to know individuals he would probably never see again. After my daughter’s license was renewed, he said, “I’ll see you in six years”—a nice way to end their business and make her smile. And it’s not often you leave the DMV smiling.

If taking time to build a relationship in a five-minute business transaction can have that kind of result, how much greater effect will we have if we take time to build relationships with people we see every day. What influence could we have on our neighbors, co-workers, friends, and family if we were willing to invest in our relationships with them?  

Finally, I saw a man who was content with his work. No matter what God has given us to do, it is a gift from Him, and we ought to do His work with joy and enthusiasm.  We can view our work interactions as opportunities to be salt and light in a dark world. We never know who is watching us work or what the effect might be that we have on someone else because of our attitude toward our work.  

What are some ways you can improve your attitude about work?

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The ocean mesmerized us.

I once traveled with my young daughters to St. Simon’s Island, Georgia. My brother, Ron, lived there, so my other brother, Darryl, and his family ventured with us down South. We spent hours at the beach. The kids played in the waves on child-sized rafts, buried each other in the sand, and built castles.

As much as I enjoyed the water, the climb to the top of St. Simon’s lighthouse topped my favorite’s list. We watched dolphins play in the water and got a feel for the work of the lighthouse keeper. If he didn’t light the lamp, the risk of shipwrecks increased. The pilots of the vessels depended on the light keeper to do his job. Whether he lit a wick or flipped a switch, he needed to make the top of the tower glow.

I’ve been fascinated with lighthouses for years. They grace our home in paintings, photos, and 3-D images. Their purpose reminds me of the hope I have in Jesus. Just as a lighthouse guides vessels to safe harbor, Jesus moves me through the rough waters of life and buoys me in His calm. I have to keep my eyes on Him and trust Him to guide. A ship’s captain may not know what’s ahead, but he follows the light. As a believer, I place my trust in Jesus and follow His radiance to everlasting life.

When God created light and dark, He knew we'd need someone to illuminate the way through the turmoil and pain of life. Jesus is the lighthouse who can guide us through the difficult and sorrowful times. He shines a path of hope in the darkness.

Jesus provides a safe refuge in the storms of life. Seek His light and rest in His peace.

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Wow! What a deal, we thought.

Joni and I planned our next concert. We needed to transport ten eight-foot choral risers, music stands, sound equipment, and stage décor. But we always ran short of transport resources.

“Let’s pray for a big 27 x 8 foot truck with a hydraulic lift!” Joni cried in desperation.

So, we agreed in prayer, “Lord, we need a 27 x 8 foot truck with a hydraulic lift. Please meet our need. Thank you. Amen.”

At the next rehearsal, we announced our search for a truck with a hydraulic lift to transport our production equipment. 

“I don’t have a truck, but I have a Class C license. I can drive anytime,” Craig offered.

“I have a truck in our company’s boneyard. After we bought new ones, we didn’t know what to do with the old ones. With a little tune-up and a new battery, it will run. We’ll donate it,” Mark offered.

“My son is a mechanic who is also looking for the same type of truck for his Boy Scout troop to use on weekends. (We only needed the truck four times a year.) We could park it at his gas station,” volunteered Pat.

Just as we thought we had to say, “Thanks, but no thanks,” because of the high cost of insurance, the Boy Scout leader proposed that if the Boy Scouts of America accepted the truck as a donation, they could give the company a 501(c3) tax deduction. Then, as owners, the Boy Scouts would carry the insurance and allow us to use the truck as needed.

The company unloaded a truck useless to them in exchange for a tax donation. We got the free use of a truck and a driver four weekends a year, and the Boy Scouts got their truck for weekly projects.

We shortchange ourselves when we are not specific in our prayers. We can see the answer more clearly when we know what we are looking for. God can answer many prayers at once, so everyone wins.

Never forget that God is your Provider.

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The fiddler crab scooted past me, its big dominant claw high in the air. A sign to other fiddlers that it was just passing through—no harm intended or trouble wanted.

The crab joined hundreds of its fellow fiddler crabs in an exodus off the beach and toward the relative safety of the swamps that lay several hundred yards behind the barrier dunes. The crab knew, without any connection to the internet or satellite television, that a hurricane was coming. Perhaps it was the beginning of a subtle drop in barometric pressure that would continue until the hurricane eye was overhead. Maybe it was the change in the rhythm of the breakers coming ashore … the heartbeat of the beach. Or it could have been the sudden disappearance of the soaring seagulls with their harsh cry, along with the accompanying absence of the sandpipers dashing in and out of the surf.

It was time for me to leave as well. My small brown Pinto station wagon was loaded with the keepsakes from our family oceanfront cottage. The knickknacks Mom didn't want to leave to the vagaries of wind and storm surge. I said goodbye to the cottage and Mr. Crab and headed inland.

Whatever sign that propelled the small crab and his kin inland, the rest of life along the beach followed suit. Even as the ominous dark clouds appeared on the southeastern horizon to embrace the setting sun, the beach emptied of the wildlife that called it home. They knew.

God's Word is full of hints, suggestions, warnings, and scenarios that point to what we call collectively the “end times.” Jesus Himself told us, “So also, when you see all these things, you know that He is near, right at the door” (Matt. 24:33 NKJ).

I don't need the Weather Channel's Jim Cantore to tell me a hurricane is coming. The beach speaks to those who listen, and so does God's Word and Spirit. And yes, I think they speak of a gathering storm.

But Jesus also said not to be afraid. To be prepared. To rest in His peace. No matter the signs or how much the next few months may rock our little boat, the peace of Jesus rides with us. The same Jesus who commanded the storm to “Peace! Be still!”

Rest in God’s peace. “Yes, I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus (Rev. 22:20 ESV).

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The cows were not in their allotted field.

When I investigated, I discovered several parts of the fencing ripped out or torn down by the livestock. I had erected the barrier to keep them from getting into neighboring fields or wandering onto the highway. Of course, the cows wanted greener pastures.

The next day, I located the problem and fixed it. Then I walked the entire perimeter of the field, fixing and replacing portions of the fence. I’m sure the cows enjoyed their short-lived escapade outside their boundaries.

After I finished, I sat on the back porch and admired my work as I watched the cattle test the fence. When I saw a steer touch the wire with his nose and then jump back, I knew the black hairy beasts would have a new respect for my boundaries.

This incident caused me to think about my own boundaries. How often do I maintain my fences to keep me safe from the wickedness of this world?

God’s armor is not a hot wire fence, but it does provide spiritual protection to keep us safe. When there is a breach in the armor, our hearts become susceptible to Satan’s lies and the traps he lays.

Personally, I daily need to gird my waist with truth, put on the breastplate of righteousness, shod my feet with the gospel of peace, take up the shield of faith, and put on the helmet of salvation. And I need the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. I am thankful Mom made me memorize verses. With God’s Word, I can counter Satan because it is sharper than any double-edged sword. And we should never underestimate the power of prayer.

Keep your fences mended by daily putting on the armor of God. Don’t go into battle against Satan unprotected.

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“The virus hit the church family. My husband had it and is completely recovered. I am nearing two weeks of quarantine.”

The text came from a friend in late March of 2020 and was my first encounter with COVID-19. Yes, I’d been keeping an eye on news reports and governmental briefings, but my friend’s message made the pervasive effect of the pandemic clear.

At the beginning of 2020, if someone had told me in just a few months I’d be using the phrase “social distancing” almost daily, I would have asked “social what?” COVID-19 dramatically impacted our speech, our routines, and our lives.

A lot of commentators on Christian television characterized the pandemic as having the potential to bring a “divine reset”—a time to draw closer to God, to our families, and to our own hearts. And they were correct. Enduring the pandemic was all that and more for me. But that didn’t negate the unimaginable loss of life, fear, and economic trauma the virus caused. People who suffered needed empathy and acknowledgement of their pain … not clichés.

Psalm 91 is a song of protection many cling to. It does not offer clichés, but deep assurance and strength. It does not sugarcoat the fact that we face trials: attackers, pestilence, terror, trouble. Yet during those things, it directs our attention to God, who supersedes those forces with His love, protection, and supernatural power.

One of the lessons I gained from the Psalm during the COVID-19 season was that it is okay to be transparent about how we’re feeling—with ourselves, with our families and friends, and especially with God. God invites us to be hopeful and to have a confident expectation of good even amid crises.

If you’re grieving or struggling, let God know how you feel. Then, rise in confidence.  

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I watched blood surging into my seventeen-year-old son’s body.

This was Jared’s sixth transfusion due to gastrointestinal bleeding. His bleeding was related to Crohn’s disease—an autoimmune disorder that attacks the gastrointestinal track, has no cure, and hopefully responds to medicines which keep it in remission. While I watched, I thought of the blood’s purpose to supply essential nutrients and remove waste as it circulates through our body.

Jesus speaks symbolically when He says we need to eat His flesh and drink His blood. Because each of us is exclusively created by God with a purpose, our walk of faith is also unique. We work out our walk with the Lord day by day and, at times, moment by moment. We spiritually eat Christ’s flesh when we accept Him as our Savior and allow His cleansing power to flow through our spiritual veins. We drink His blood by studying His Word, fellowshipping with other believers, and praying.

If we don’t do these things, sin creeps in and clogs our spiritual veins. When this happens, we need a spiritual transfusion, much like my son needed a physical transfusion. This spiritual blood transfusion not only replaces the blood lost through our sin but also heals the broken and open sores that come in the form of consequences for our sin. Further, it restores our broken fellowship with the Lord.

Jared’s transfusion was due to Crohn’s. His body needed to replenish the blood loss caused by his disease just as we need help replenishing our spiritual blood bank when it runs low. Only when our bank is full can we function and complete the work God gives us.

COVID-19 brought difficult times, including stay-at-home orders, but one person we never have to isolate from is Christ. Hold tight to Him and, when needed, let Him give you a spiritual transfusion.

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Charlotte screamed.

My wife, Charlotte, and I were in fast-moving, heavy traffic in Knoxville, Tennessee, heading to the mountains on the first day of vacation. Traffic hemmed us in on all sides, moving well over the speed limit of 55 mph. Directly in front of us was an eighteen-wheeler hauling scrap lumber, covered mostly by a tarp. The back-left corner loosened and flapped in the wind. I noticed this abstractly, not even remembering I had seen it until later.

In a way, it was beautiful how the board lifted off the back of the trailer in front of us. The slipstream flowing over the truck created a vacuum, and it suctioned the board out through the flapping gap in the loosened tarp. The board—three to four feet wide, five feet long, and at least an inch thick—floated and hung in the air before diving for our windshield.

Charlotte screamed. I could do nothing—and there was no time to do anything anyway. The hurtling board grew huge and filled the windshield.

Jesus told His disciples they must always be ready for His return. The same is true of our going to Him. Unless we happen to be on death row and our appeals have run out, none of us know when God will call us home. Most of us don't even want to think about it. Me included. But that day will come.

I don't particularly worry about that day. Like a toddler on the beach, holding his father's hand, I hold my Father's hand. I get knocked down by waves, trip over my feet, and get distracted by shiny shells, but my Father's grip never wavers. And when that day comes, He'll still be holding my hand.

And that board flying toward us at sixty mph? It wasn't our day to go home. At the last fraction of a second, an angel lifted it on its side, and it went down the side of the car. Neatly sliced off my driver's mirror and scraped here and there down the side, but that was all the damage done. Thank you, Father, thank you.

Someday, though, the final day will come for all of us—probably in the blink of an eye. Are you holding God’s saving hand and walking in His love? Be ready.

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All twenty-two five-year-olds gathered in the classroom.

In cap and gown, the graduates’ cuteness was undeniable. We were so elated. We cheered and gave a standing ovation. You would have thought they had won the Superbowl, but this was only a kindergarten promotion ceremony. The teacher calmed us and called the children to find their places. One by one, they filed in and found their seats—smiles, waves, and applause didn’t distract them.

Amid the chaos, I noticed a few children who stood still. Frozen and unsure of what step to take, they missed out on the fun. Did the overwhelming sounds drown out the instructions? Did they not want to sit in their seats? For reasons unknown, some children stood there—unable to participate…missing out on the most exciting moment of their little lives.

Just like the children, we too have a choice. When our Teacher calls to us, we can choose to take our seat and participate. The position provides forgiveness, grace, mercy, and an eternal promotion into heaven. Or we can stand still, forever leaving us separated from the love and safekeeping afforded through our faith in Christ.

Have you taken the seat your heavenly Father has offered? If not, accept the gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ.

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It appeared to be in perfect condition.

Behind my son’s school is an empty play area where broken equipment lives. At the very back is a slide, which appeared to be in perfect condition. I wondered why the school didn’t use it on another piece of equipment.

Seeing the slide made me think about people who are in spiritually broken zones. Many believers—who have perfectly good talents, abilities, and gifts—have stopped using them. For whatever reason, they park themselves in the broken equipment zone.

Maybe they were offended or mistreated. Or told they had nothing to offer. Maybe they got tired or overloaded. Perhaps other responsibilities got in the way. Or they convinced themselves they were no good and stopped offering themselves to God.

Imagine the joy that slide once brought when it was used on the playground. I can see the faces of smiling children as the slide fulfilled its designated purpose. Imagine what these believers were like when they served by using their gifts. They shared with those around them and smiled as they fulfilled their designed purpose.

Just because we are in the broken zone doesn’t mean we are useless. Our gifts, talents, and abilities might be a little rusty, but someone somewhere can benefit from their use. Even if we are more limited now than we once were, we can offer something. Volunteer. Pick up that instrument. Build that ramp. Cook that meal. Write that card. Save that life.

Whatever you choose to do, move away from the broken zone. Connect yourself with a body of believers and offer your gifts and talents back to God. Don’t be a lonely slide in the broken zone anymore.

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“Rhetoric! That’s all I hear. It’s like a constant bashing inside my head. Over and over. There’s no escaping it. I just want the noise to cease.”

A young girl sat outside the grocery store pressing her hands over her ears. I can remember when I was a child, my grandmother’s favorite phrase was, “These is troubled times, and troubles never cease.”

I could relate to the young girl. She swiped tears. “Honey, are you all right?” I asked.

“All I hear in my head is the news about this stupid virus. It’s relentless. Everywhere I turn. I’m scared to death.”

Easing next to her on the bench, I patted her knee. “The world is never quiet. Today it’s a virus. Yesterday it was how terrible our president is. There is always something. That’s the way the world likes it.”

“I just want quiet.”

“Me too, sweetie. The only place I find that quiet is when I pray.”

It must have been frightening for the disciples, being on a boat in the middle of a horrendous storm. And to think, Jesus slept through it. In fact, He seemed a bit annoyed when the disciples woke Him. Whether it was because they accused Him of not caring or if it was the fear that didn’t seem to matter, Jesus’ question stumped them: “Don’t you have faith?” With that, He calmed the storm.

We live in chaotic times. An uneasiness settles over the world, and the virus isn’t the cause. Faith wanes, and when that happens, the voices of rhetoric grow louder. Fear seeps in, and people grow weak under the pressure. This is what Satan wants—for us to be enthralled in chaos.

With three simple words, Christ calmed a storm. An easy task for Him. What makes us think those same three words can’t still calm? When we trust that God is on the throne and that nothing gets past Him, we really have little to fear. Yet we do.

Close your mind to rhetoric. Take hold of the promise of Jesus and listen to His words. “Quiet. Be still.” Allow Him to fill your heart and mind, and then quiet will set in.

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The speaker was not holding my attention. Yawn.

No matter how hard I tried, my mind would not stay focused. The man kept taking rabbit trails, never finding his way back to the main point. I left the meeting, wondering if he even had a point. Time for a nap … or a jolt of caffeine.

We all have a tendency at times to veer off the subject at hand, but the Lord showed me one day how anxious thoughts are much like rabbit trails. Those thoughts branch off in all directions, taking us off course and away from our foundation of trust in the Lord. They steal our peace. The more anxious we become, the further away we travel. We might even find ourselves all the way down the rabbit hole.

We’re told throughout Scripture to be anxious for nothing, to cast all our care on God, and not to fret or faint. We’re also told over and over not to fear. Anxiety causes worry, and worry leads to fear. Fear contains torment. It clouds our thinking and keeps us wandering around on those annoying trails, lost in the woods of doubt and unbelief.

How do we find our way back to that place of peace and rest? By calling on the Lord. A simple “Forgive me, Lord, I trust You” will get us back on the right path.

Don’t allow anxious thoughts to remain in your heart and mind. When they come against you, say what my former pastor used to say: “That’s NOT my thought.” Then capture, like prisoners of war, every thought and insist that it bow in obedience to the Anointed One.

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As little as a decade ago, I remember our little blue Ford Escape rocking with the sounds of Jimmy Buffett and Radio Margaritaville as Charlotte, Caleb, and I motored down the road.

We sang along to one of Buffett's older, more infamous songs: “Why Don't We…Eat Lunch in School.” Caleb was only six at the time, so the song had to acquire a new title and more innocent lyrics for his young ears. Caleb loved the song, although he was somewhat confused about what the pitchers of beer and the waterbed in the song had to do with “eating lunch at school,” but he sang along anyway. Charlotte and I sang loudly (if not on key) our improvised lyrics whenever Radio Margaritaville played one of the song's many versions.

When I was younger, Jimmy Buffett provided the soundtrack to my life. Before Buffett, it was The Beatles, both collectively and separately. But my second year at Montreat College, I discovered Margaritaville and was hooked. I spent the next twenty years chasing the “false echoes” of pirates, beaches, boats, bars, frozen concoctions, blonde strangers, and those funny cigarettes with the funky smells and spontaneously quick glows. I followed them almost to my ruin.

False echoes are what your local TV weather forecaster will professionally call "virga," while pointing at some colored blob on their $40 million radar. That colored blob is supposed to mean precipitation, but since it isn't actually raining, anywhere, the smiling blonde forecaster explains this by calling it virga. That means the $40 million radar has had what my grandson Caleb would enthusiastically call a “brain fart.” 

I still feel those occasional false echoes from my earlier life. We all do. Memories of past sins whisper seductively. Even Paul (the apostle, not the Beatle) felt them. He said, “I don't understand myself at all, for I really want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do the thing I hate.” Corrie Ten Boom called them “echoes of the past.”

Paul also has an answer. He tells us, “Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ, our Lord.” Jesus is the true echo of our loving Father. Jesus freed us from our past.

Keep your heart and mind on Jesus, and let those false echoes sweep over you and back into the dust from which they came.

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Parents spend so much energy running their homes.

The chores, activities, and schedules are relentless—our time spent more like an administrative assistant than being engaged in life. The thrill-less endeavors of keeping a tidy house, shuttling to events, and providing meal services can leave us lifeless and searching for a source of happiness and enjoyment.

Lost in the daily grind of life, we find ourselves on a path of monotony and escapism. Our efforts turn from happily serving our Lord, family, and friends to finding ways to fill that eternal hole of emptiness.

Inapproprate thoughts, attitudes, and actions temporarily fill the void. Left on our own, work, drinking, drugs, sports, social media, church, clubs, and people become the center of our universe.

Thankfully, God reminds us there is a time for everything. Parenthood may be grueling at times, but God has designed it to be fruitful and lifegiving. It is God’s gift to us to find joy in even the most repetitive tasks. Picking up the same toy five times in one day may not be enjoyable, but the opportunity to teach our children is rewarding.

Parenting can be equally grueling and rewarding. Either way, we must take the opportunity to look for the blessing that comes along with the season. We just might find the moment God ordained for us to experince blessings such as we’ve never imagined.

Ask the Lord to help you see the blessing in the season of life you are currently in.

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My temperature plummeted, and my blood pressure soared—then crashed.

Frantic, muffled voices surrounded me. I could not make out their meaning, but I knew I was in trouble. At the birth of our twins, my husband, John, ran between the bedside of his semiconscious wife and his children in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. The doctors asked him to leave as one boy crashed and they attempted resuscitation. My son later required intubation. No one should have to see their child with a tube down their throat.

At this point, John found a location devoid of people, fell on the floor, and begged for the life of his wife and children. Desperately, he pleaded to Jesus as his Savior and Protector. That day, John needed a place of safety—somewhere to turn.

Jesus stands available to us in times of tragedy and in our everyday lives. We can rely on Him not only for salvation but also for strength. He is our Lord and our Protector.

I don’t know what would have happened to my husband’s heart if he had not fallen into the arms of his Strong Tower. God rescued four people that day. The road ahead held many challenges, but this dramatic testimony of God’s provision bolstered our strength.

Sometimes, we hold on to other things that prevent us from running to God. Or we run but drag our feet along the way.

Release whatever you need so you can rest in God and receive His protection. Allow Him to be the sovereign God He is.

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I smelled rubber as the sedan screeched to a halt.

With legs sprawled, and palms stretched wide, my three-year-old son stood in front of the car with an expression of delight. How had he slipped his hand out of mine? I scooped him into my arm, tightened my grip on my daughter’s hand, and apologized to the driver.

Once inside the store, I asked, “Son, what were you thinking?”

“I’m Superman! I stop car!” My son flexed his muscles to demonstrate his power.

“That was neat,” my daughter said.

“Not exactly,” I said, knowing we would discuss street safety later. I’ll shelve the super hero videos for now, I thought, but I knew that would be futile.

To my three-and-four-year-old children, super heroes were as real as Charlotte the spider who lived on the porch—and I was not permitted to sweep her web away in case she wanted to write a message. The Easter Bunny lived in the neighborhood—my children had seen him. Pretty soon, Gilligan would teach my children boating skills—as soon as he got off the island. And Mr. Rogers would bring Lady Elaine and Daniel for a visit soon.

Super heroes empower children. With their imagination activated, they envision the world as a safe place to grow, learn, and play. Once we become adults, we lose that safety-net of knowing there is a super-power greater than ourselves … or do we?

With faith activated, we can know the One who is more majestic than any imaginary Super Hero and whose name is mightier than any name that is named. Jesus Christ is our Super Hero—the One who carries our fears so we don’t have to. He is the One who activates dreams—those we gave up on achieving. He is the One who provides bread on our table when the mortgage is due and the dollars are few.

Although Paul sinned, he knew Christ’s transforming power. Christ was his Super Hero.

We can thank our Super Hero Jesus Christ as eloquently as Paul did. God has placed within us the indelible gift of imagination. As we pray, we can envision with childlike faith just how majestic our real-life Super Hero truly is.

Ask God to help you envision Jesus Christ in His majesty.

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Fifty feet up, from where a fork in the old oak tree expanded into two wide limbs, Fritz the cat wailed mournfully.

Fritz is a four-year-old orange and cream tabby that loves to go up trees. Coming down, however, is entirely another story. Hence the wailing. This has been one of Fritz's peccadillos from the moment he marched in as a kitten and pronounced himself our new house cat. After a visit to the vet—where he received his shots—Fritz promptly set about stealing our hearts. He quickly learned he was adept at climbing, especially in escaping Leon's attention—the patriarch feline that rules our outdoor clowder.

Leon isn't a house cat, or even a people cat, and doesn't like much of anything about us except our free food. But he does what he does exceptionally well: rule our ridge. Leon keeps his females in line, shoos the youngsters off when it is time for them to go, and, most of all, keeps the yard and ridge free of every critter, rodent, and snake that doesn't belong. One thing Leon doesn't do is climb, so Fritz can easily scamper up out of harm's way.

Fritz loves to climb just for the fun of it. He enjoys the view from on high and chasing squirrels and birds who venture too far into his domain. He is excellent at going up. Coming back down … not so much. He sits and cries pitifully to get back on the ground.

I have often done the same thing in my life. Chasing something bright and shiny, I have steered off God's chosen path for my life and gone figuratively straight up a tree and out on a limb seventy-five feet in the air. And what do I do then? Exactly like Fritz. I sit and wail pitifully to my Father for help.

Learning my lesson is hard. Walk in God's Word, and the path is straight and true. Get off course chasing bright baubles, and suddenly I’m seventy-five feet in the air, crying out for God to save me. Again.

Thank goodness, God is faithful to both humans and cats. He has never failed to pluck me from my predicaments—or guide Fritz back down from the tree.

Have you ever been out on a limb? God is faithful to rescue you.

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I had a wonderful dad.

I was fortunate to have a very loving father, though when I was a child, he wasn’t always Mr. Jolly. I never questioned that he loved me. He tucked me in at night, sometimes lying beside me telling me silly stories, and he was always interested in my imaginary adventures.

He worked hard at the papermill repairing trucks and machinery. If something went down, Dad was on a timeframe to fix it. After all, time was money to the paper mill. Mom was the one who took me places, did things with me, and helped me experience the world, and Dad wasn’t present.

When my brother was a child, Dad was very active in the church, but then one day, without explanation, he walked away, never darkening the doors except to walk me down the aisle. Despite our family efforts to bring him back, it was an adamant no. Despite Dad’s long absence, we never browbeat his attendance. We prayed and loved him deeply.

In 1984, Dad’s only brother passed away. My parents drove to Orlando for the funeral. I don’t know what happened in that seventy-two hours they were gone, but when Dad walked in the door, he was a different man. A few Sundays later, he surprised us when he walked into the church service and sat down. He never left the church again.

Paul reminded the people of the importance of family and the value in respect. Honor your parents. Love your children. Cherish your spouse. He wanted the people to know the strength in the hierarchy of family and just how important it would be as their families grew.

Dad was a good man and a loving husband and father. Was he perfect? Nope, but whatever reason drove him from the church, something of equal importance brought him home. We never questioned that. We only rejoiced in his return.

Hundreds of people came to his funeral. Person after person told us sweet details about things Dad did for them that none of us were aware of. He prayed for folks, took them doughnuts, and visited them at their work weekly. The local McDonalds Dad frequented, CLOSED for his funeral. All this to say, he was honored. The lost child God loved so patiently many years prior, found his way home.

Honor your father. Love him, even if it is hard, and your Father in heaven will reward your efforts.

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When I was a teenager, my mom homeschooled me.

I once made a bad grade and failed an English test. Mom grounded me and said I would stay grounded until I finished retaking the PACE. PACE was the name of the book used for the curriculum. If a student scored below 80, they were supposed to redo all the PACE work, but often Mamma only made me retake the test—unless my grade was unusually bad. This one was. 

Although I knew I could finish a PACE in a week, I got mad, sat there, and did nothing—at least on the English PACE. One day, my dad came into my school room—the room we used for me to do my school work—and told me I was rebelling. I hadn't ever thought of it that way. He also reminded me that most of the time one of the things teens are known for is rebelling against their parents.

When Dad said that, I knew I needed to repent—not only because my punishment would get worse if I didn't soon change but also because I saw how God felt about my attitude and actions. I asked God and my parents to forgive me. Then I straightened up, started progressing through the PACE, finished it, and passed the test.

When we’re living in known disobedience, God wants us to stop rebelling and make things right with Him—and anyone else if necessary. God always blesses repentance.

Repent of anything you are rebelling against.   

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The reflection of blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror. Embarrassed, I pulled over.

“Ma’am, can you explain why you were speeding?”

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

When I got home, I looked up potential consequences: one-year revocation of license, lawyer and court costs, license points. I felt nauseous. Rather than worrying further, I prayed, “Father God, this license is Yours to take or give as You desire.” I called my husband, and he called our attorney.

“I might get the charges reduced by ten miles per hour,” the lawyer said, “or it could be reduced to improper equipment.” He explained his rates. “Do you have questions? And try not to worry. I’ll do my best to get this matter resolved.”

“Will you be with me in court?” I asked.

 “You stay home. I will speak to the judge on your behalf, and I will represent you.”

A few days later, my lawyer called. “Your case has been dismissed.”

“Dismissed? As in, forgiven?”

“It’s better.”

“Better?”

“Dismissed means we’re acting as if this never happened. It won’t appear on your record, and you’ll owe no court costs. Your slate is wiped clean. Oh, and my services are gratis.”

God is good, and even if my license had been revoked, I would still have reason to believe this is true. God loves us so much He sent Jesus to take the punishment for our transgressions—even those more serious than traffic violations. With our belief, Jesus erases our record of sins. Through His shed blood, Jesus blots our sins away. The work He accomplished is beyond forgiveness, and the charges against us have been dismissed.

When we get to heaven, no one will say, “Remember when you were speeding?” Not only are we forgiven, we are also made new. Our good God knew we’d need a Savior, so He sent the best Lawyer we could ever dream about.

Take a moment to thank God for sending Jesus to wipe your record clean.

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I barely had time to register the strange movement of the clouds swirling above.

Suddenly, the top third of an old oak tree twisted off and plummeted to the ground. In the next instant, the wind howled through the open windows in the back of the house, bringing blinds, curtains, and even pictures off the walls as it roared through the house.

The whole world seemed to tilt from the wind’s force. Above my head, the front porch roof creaked ominously as the winds pounded the front of the house. All around me, I heard trees cracking apart like the sound of a thousand bedsheets tearing at once.

Thirty seconds later, the storm passed. Branches and leaves continued to fall for the next minute or two, but the worst was over. In the aftermath, our yard was littered with the remnants of oak, cedar, hickory, and black walnut trees. Some of the limbs and tops were as thick as twenty inches in diameter.

The weather forecast had called for severe thunderstorms. But to be honest, at this time of the year—and in the fall—we get so many severe thunderstorm warnings they tend to fade into the background. So had this one … until it fell on us with all Mother Nature's fury.

The important thing, however, was that we were safe. Our house was intact, despite some interior rearranging by the wind. Our cars and camper were undamaged, and our pets were all okay. Even our garden was unharmed. And none of that was really a surprise.

You see, God's promises of protection are everywhere in our house. Some are verses in fancy-framed prints, and some are scrawled in magic marker on a simple sheet of typing paper. But as a family, we incorporate them into our prayers. God's magnificent blessings and promises don't do us a bit of good locked away in a pretty leather-bound book. I have to pull them out of the Bible and carve them word by word on my heart.

Sometimes, I can see trouble coming, but more often than not, it's the trouble I don't see coming that reaches out for me. Often, when I least expect it, I only have time for an earnest, "Abba, Father," before I clutch at those promises I've engraved inside me.

Are God's promises written on your heart?

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Trusting God has been difficult for me.

I had a father who was in the home, but who never wanted to spend time with me. This led to me being molested and to other things. I sought my dad’s love, but it was not there.  

When I came to Christ, I had trust issues. Often, I mirrored God through the relationship I had with my dad—and then believed God didn’t care for me. Many times, I have cried out to God, asking Him to help me see Him not only as my creator but also as my Father. I am learning to trust God more and more as I keep my mind focused on His Word and what He has to say about Himself and His relationship to me as my Father.

The more I keep my mind on God’s grace and mercy, the more I understand that He thinks of me in a different realm than my earthly dad did. God, as My Father, shows me love in many ways—ways I never would have imagined.

Once, I needed money and had no clue where it would come from. I had writings out for review with publishers, but hadn’t heard from them. God showed His provision through a friend who sent money to cover some of my expenses.

As I go through life, I find God’s ways aren’t the ways of people. Although my earthly dad taught me none of the graces and mercies of God, my heavenly Father has shown me I can trust Him as a loving and generous Father.

Ask God to help you trust Him in every life situation.

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“We need to learn how to play soccer, not just run around!”

As I watched eleven-year-old boys play soccer, I heard the coach make the statement. My grandson was one of the eager players with inexhaustible energy. Since my own son played as a youngster, the excitement of watching returned. I observed carefully. The referees called the plays, and the game stopped each time an infraction occurred. When the ball went out of bounds, the game stopped. If somebody from our team was at fault, the opposing team gained possession of the ball. They threw the ball in from the boundary line, and play began again with them having the advantage. When the opposing team pushed the ball out of bounds, our team resumed play with the advantage. The team with better playing skills—dribbling, kicking, and blocking—advanced more quickly, and the opportunities for shooting goals increased.

I thought about the coach’s words. Life is learning to play the game, not just runnng around. God gives us a playing field with boundaries, rules, and regulations. He instructs us in wisdom and leads us along straight paths. We can know where our goal is and keep moving toward it. When we go out of bounds or break a rule, the opposition gains advantage over us. We then need to repent. When the opposition goes out of bounds or breaks a rule, we take the advantage by forgiving and getting back in the game.  

Opportunities to reach your goal increase with your level of life skills, education, and talents. These equip you to play life on the field God gave you. Don’t just run around.

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The job of a mother never ends.

Until our children grow up and have their own children, they never fully grasp that concept. Mothers have a unique bond with their offspring. Nature makes it clear the nurturing instinct never really leaves.

I watched a nature show recently about a mother bear and her three cubs. It was amazing to see her caring instincts when her babies strayed too far or ventured into potentially harmful situations. The mother bear exhibited heightened senses even when she slept. If one cub shifted, her eyes opened, and she scooped them closer to her body—before snuggling back into a semi-rest. As the cubs grew more independent, this momma slowly loosened her grip until she finally allowed them to go their own way. As they did, she stood watch until they were gone. When she could no longer see her cubs, she reared and wailed toward the sky. She wept.

This emotional moment took me back to when I said a final farewell to my youngest son. He’d packed his car, took a last look, and then kissed me goodbye. As his car disappeared, a wail of loss rang through me. Although he wasn’t leaving me to marry, he was grown. The thought of his dependence on me ending sobered me. I could suddenly relate to that momma bear. Proud of this graduation, yet mourning the end of a season.

I’ve entrusted a second son into the hands of a beautiful woman who loves him deeply. I must admit, the moment of giving up that care was no different. A mother’s job is never done. We are instructed to let our sons and daughters mature, leave home, and even marry. To allow the growth of a new relationship and a new family to happen. It’s a new season. I have done my job as a mother. But that doesn’t mean my relationship ends with my child. It simply soars to a new level.

Mother’s Day allows a mom time to reflect on when she once nestled her babies in that special place. It’s the crowning moment when we can step back and bask in the pride of the men and women they’ve become. They will always be our babies, so we continue to pray for them and offer guidance and direction when needed.

As a mother, you’ve successfully completed the task entrusted to you. Never stop praying, never stop loving, and never stop being grateful for the moments you share with them. God has blessed you with children—the jewel in your crown.   

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Stepping into the house for lunch, I went to the fridge and grasped the bowl I wanted to heat.

Opening the door to the microwave, I observed a plate with squiggly black-looking loops. Knowing my five sons, I thought, They have microwaved worms. Yuck!

Seconds later, my oldest son stepped into the room. “Oh, I forgot that.”

I stared at him. “What is it?”

“Oh, that’s my macaroni and cheese. Maybe a little overdone, huh?”

As I gazed at the blackened macaroni, I sighed. “How long did you set it for?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, I always put extra time, then come back and check on it. I forgot to come back and check.”

I have found that things are not always what I think they are. Samuel discovered this when God sent him to anoint a new king for Israel. He looked at the outward appearance of Jessie’s sons, but God looked at David’s heart.

All of us have looked at someone and wondered why they act or talk as they do. Or why they dress as they do. Sometimes people I meet seem super annoying while others appear overly quiet. Maybe they’ve had hard times or don’t have enough money to dress better. Perhaps they are afraid to speak, as I used to be. Occasionally, I’ve had to step back from people because of the evil surrounding them.

I’ve learned to ask God to help me look below the surface and find the real person inside. Not always easy. God’s Word tells me to look deeply and watch people’s actions. In this way, I can truly and carefully observe them. God allows me to see the spirit and actions of those I meet.

Listening, watching, and talking to people allows me to express God’s love for them. If I listen and observe closely, I find God opens my eyes to truly see others.

Ask God to help you see people as He sees them.

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The three of us—Charlotte, Caleb, and I—stood covered in Tennessee mud and stretched wearily.

We discovered later we were also covered in Tennessee seed ticks. At best, they itch furiously and must be tweezered off some pretty sensitive (and embarrassing) places. At worst, they can carry Lyme Disease or Powhassen virus. But currently, those sicknesses would have to stand in line to have a shot at killing us, so I'm not particularly worried.

Our newly created garden—hacked out of our stubborn Tennessee ridgetop soil (they don't call it Rocky Top for nothing)—stood before us. Seedlings lined up in rows like good little soldiers: tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, bell peppers, banana peppers, and sweet potatoes snuggled in the ground. In other rows where seeds had been planted, little flags marked what they would be: pumpkin, watermelon, carrots, lettuce, and Italian sage.

Fist-sized white Tennessee limestone rocks—hundreds of them, maybe thousands—piled up as borders for the plant beds, courtesy of the limestone bedrock that underlies the soil in these parts. And each one had to be hoed, raked, or plucked from the planting beds. I think they replicate at night like aliens from a cheap science fiction novel.

My heart, like Paul’s, compares to the soil of our garden. Big things don’t impede my spiritual growth ...well, not usually. However, I have had my moments. Mostly, it is those dadgum fist-sized rocks that constantly trip me up.

And those are the rocks I'm continually digging out of my heart’s spiritual garden. Little things, like my mind wandering while I'm in my morning reading of the Word. Little things, like a lack of patience and quickness of temper. Little things, like an unclean word that slips past my tongue in a moment of exasperation. Little things, like more than a passing appreciation of a woman's beauty and figure. Little things, like a small “harmless” white lie told in a social situation.

Little things. Those small rocks of sin in my spiritual garden. Every day, I try to pry them out of my heart. And even though each day brings more, thank Jesus, I can give the ones I dig out to my Lord. I suspect I'll be raking rocks out of my heart until the day I get called home.

Take a moment each day to give your rocks to the Lord.

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My brother was once a sneaky pest.

When my sister and I were not home, our brother would ransack our room and steal our money, which gave us ample reason to hate him. The day he loosened the wheels on my sister’s bike, knowing she would wreck, was one of his worst pranks. My sister retaliated. She dragged her bike and wheel home, searched until she found him, and beat him until he screamed for mercy.

God does not beat us up every time we mess up. Most of the time, we do that part ourselves. At times, we just want to scream for mercy, but don’t. We carry the mess-ups in our heart, heavy baggage we can’t get past. We decide God could never love or forgive us when we do such bad stuff. But He does and can. However, some things we do have consequences.

Retaliation for what we consider slights against us can be costly. Sometimes, we need to make things right, apologize, clean up the mess, give back the money. Whatever the cost, we might have to pay.

Mercy, however begins with God. We know we messed up. We know our hatred or deep longings for some way to make someone else miserable. We know we need to change.

The change starts with Jesus. He offered mercy to those who crucified Him. They, however, had to accept His offer. Many did; many didn’t. His offer of forgiveness, love, and mercy still stands. But we have to accept. We have to want Jesus living in our hearts, filling us with gracious forgiveness and love. Then, we can offer it to others.

Rather than retaliating, think of some ways you can offer mercy to others.

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I sat in my recliner and listened.

The wind howled outside, the rain beat on the roof, lightning flashed, and thunder pounded. Then suddenly, it stopped. The eerie silence almost made me sick. I strained and listened for the deep, prolonged roar I knew would follow. Through the silence, I heard a high-pitched whine.

My mind went back to the hallway in our little framed house when I was only six years old. My parents grabbed my brother and me and carried us to the windowless hallway. The sound was intense. I could see my parents’ mouths moving, but the roar drowned out their voices. Our house shook and rattled and sounded as if a freight train was about to plow through our home. A fear I had never experienced swept over me.

The whine grew louder, and I snapped back into real time. I heard breaking noises in the distance, and the whining sound intensified. I tried to form a plan and think of the best place to hide my children, hoping these weren’t the last moments of my life. That same overwhelming fear I felt years before swept over me once again. I had no control and no way to manipulate the storm. All I could do was pray for safety. Soon, the strange whine disappeared, and the rain fell again. The pressure in the air changed, and my insides relaxed as I let the melody of the rain lull me back to sleep.

Like the psalmist, all of us have had those intense experiences that cause fear to rise up and hold us hostage. For some, it’s a storm. For others, it is an accident or illness. Events happen and certain triggers cause our emotions to edge. Worrying doesn’t help, panic won’t work, and fear just paralyzes. We have no control over the situation, and our only hope is God. He is the only One we can lean on and trust to see us through.

When the winds start to howl and fear sets in, stop and pray. Trust that God is in control, and rest on His Word and truth. He is the only way you will make it through the storm.

Ask God to help you trust Him when you are afraid.

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When my beloved aunt passed away, Corona was still a beer, and Wu Han was a Chinese historian/intellectual whose 'purge' was one of the opening shots of China's infamous Cultural Revolution.

For various family reasons, my Aunt Marjean's memorial service was delayed for a few weeks—a few weeks in which the world turned upside down. The family asked to speak at the memorial and, I had agreed. Doing so meant a 500-mile trip from Middle Tennessee to Charlotte, NC, and back. But Marjean had been very special and influential in my life. I wanted to honor her memory. A few years had also passed since my North Carolina family had seen Caleb, the 15-year-old precious grandson my wife Charlotte and I have raised since he was two.

By the time the weekend of the service approached in mid-March of 2020, Covid-19 had escaped Central China. The world whispered the word 'pandemic.' What should we do? What we did do was pray and place the trip before our Father. And what appeared before us almost everywhere we looked in the days before we left was Psalm 91, specifically verses 3, 5, 6, and 7.

We loaded the car, and, standing on those verses almost continually in prayer, traveled to North Carolina—taking precautions along the way. We took extra care in public not to touch anything we didn't swipe with a disinfecting wipe. We kept the hugs at the service to a minimum. But most of all, we simply stood on God's promise through the Spirit to David: "Don't fear the plague; it won't touch you."

We stepped out on God's promise—in faith and with a measure of common sense—and had a wonderful visit. Oh, I managed to blubber my way through my tribute to my aunt, but I got through it. And we got back home—safe, sound, and Corona-free.

Fear and confusion abound at the present. Death stalks us in a minuscule virus, but then, as Christians, death and the world always stalk us. Thank goodness, Jesus overcame the world and holds the keys to life and death.

Don't be afraid of a little virus whispering death. You're bigger than it is. And anyway, our Lord has already kicked its butt.

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The sound was like a breaking tree limb echoing through the forest.

I heard the sound in the middle of a hike when my feet hit the ground after jumping off of a log. My three teenage children rushed back to the rest of our group when I screamed. My youngest daughter later told me she thought a bear had grabbed me.

We left early from our summer vacation with friends and drove home. A call to the doctor led to an appointment that same day. I planned to wear a medical boot as I healed so I could still get around. I reviewed my full day timer and revised the rest of my summer. The doctor and his staff saw my shock during the exam when the doctor told me he needed to operate the next morning. I had shattered my ankle bones.

My husband and I returned home, and I walked upstairs in a fog, entered my prayer room, and talked with the Lord. This verse entered my thoughts: Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths. I could trust the Lord to show me the path, even in the midst of this painful situation. My schedule wasn’t really mine. When I released my schedule and my situation to Him, I felt the peace of knowing He loved me with His perfect love. He would carry me through this as He continued to mold me.

My surgery was successful. Friends and family members prayed for me, took care of me, and supported me. I’m usually the caretaker, but I humbled myself and received their help. I worked with a physical therapist and his team and became stronger than before.

We often think we control our schedule, but we don't. However, we can trust our schedule to the heavenly Father who directs our paths. When we acknowledge our Shepherd who loves us, He will guide us.

Humble yourself and receive God's direction, which is bigger and better than your comfort or your summer schedule.

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While teaching a Comparative Religions class during my college educator phase, I explained the difference between Bible-based Christianity and world religions. One of the easiest ways to contrast religions was to ask the students where they believed they were going when they died. Only the Christians had a solid confidence they were going to heaven without having to work to get there.

I have been asking God to teach me what Christianity is. Is it only information about Christ and the Bible, or is it a personal relationship with Christ? By studying passages in the Bible on this subject, I have been taught what I already knew, but needed more understanding about.

A few of the passages that revealed the essence of being a Christian were “Abide in Me and you will bear much fruit, for without Me you can do nothing” (John15:5), “I call you friends” (John15:15), and “Abide in my love” (John 15:10). These inspired passages make it clear that being a disciple of Jesus Christ is not primarily learning information about Him. Christianity is a personal, ongoing relationship with Jesus, and our relationship with Him is a love relationship that is illustrated by John’s feelings about His Lord.

One of the most beautiful pictures of love found in the Bible is when John needed the touch of Jesus and leaned against His bosom. Jesus’ touch healed and comforted then, and it still does today.

A believer’s studies in God’s Word should never be far away from having feelings of love for Jesus. Without the touch of Jesus, we feel lonely and parched, thirsty for living waters. The bottom line in the tally sheet for our lives will be how much time we spent in touch with Jesus, our fruitful Vine.

Desire to be touched by Jesus’ presence and kindness, and you will always have a good day.

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My husband Tim and I walked our dogs by Grant Lake on the night of the blue moon.

As I followed our dog Olive along the bank, Tim asked me something, but I couldn’t hear him. He pointed at the lake. When I turned toward the inlet, I saw a great blue heron resting on the water, occasionally dipping his head into the water for a drink or to catch minnows. This ominous bird fascinated me.

As darkness covered day, the bird blended in with the shadows. Tim motioned me to where he stood. The moonlight cut in just enough for the bird to remain in view. As we watched, the great bird spread his wings, lifted off, and flew across the lake. The wingspan looked enormous as he drifted over the lake with power and grace.

Like a great blue heron, the Holy Spirit hovered over the water as God created earth. He accompanied God, just as Jesus did from the beginning.

What a blessing to know God remains close to His people. He moves over the earth in Spirit and dwells in us. The Spirit lives in me every day. He nudges me to serve, gives me direction, comforts me when I am down, and rejoices with me when I am blessed. No matter what the day may bring, the Holy Spirit guides believers.  

Spend time reading the Bible to better understand the Spirit in your life. Then, pray and ask God to help you recognize the Spirit's voice and nudges.

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“Can you hear it?”
 
My husband was restoring an old well on the few acres God had given him. Most people would have given up, as each step faced another hurdle. The cost of purchasing what was needed was not an option.

So with prayer, ingenuity, and substitutionary parts, the day came when he put the last piece of equipment into the well: a sensor to tell when the water level was low. With the help of a friend, they wired the sensor and lowered it into the bore hole. Nothing happened. They prayed some more and talked about what the problem might be.

They finally discovered the tiny apparatus was upside down. When they set the sensor the right way and put it down the bore hole again, my husband rang me and asked, “Can you hear it?” I heard the water flowing out of the well as it gurgled across the airways to me.

God told His people of old not to fear. He was with them. He still is. Sometimes, a simple adjustment to our lives will make the difference between success and failure. Listening to the Holy Spirit through prayer and counsel from those with knowledge concerning the issue is wise.

If you have something you don’t understand in your life, persevere in prayer. God is always available to help.

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I had a problem.

A Boy Scout weekend camping trip coincided with my Sunday to be acolyte in our church. As a Patrol Leader, I was expected to lead my patrol on the camping trip, as well as be in church that Sunday.

Unable to find a replacement for either duty, I decided to do both jobs. I would take my Scouts on the camping trip, and my dad would get me early that Sunday morning and take me back to do my acolyte thing in church. I had it covered.

But teenage boys aren’t prone to sleep when on a camping weekend away from home. By flashlight, we told ghost stories, talked sports, and discussed the marvelous mysteries of female anatomy until way past midnight.

Before I knew it, the sun was up, and Dad had arrived to pick me up. Once at church, I donned my white acolyte robe. Out I went, walking with pace and reverence to the altar where I lit the candles and then returned to my reserved front pew.

During the first half of the service, we did a lot of standing and singing, so I was reasonably active. But as Rev. Hutchinson launched into the sermon, my eyes slowly shut. My head drifted back to rest on that lonely front pew, and in front of the entire congregation—with my mouth gapped open—I fell sound asleep.

At the end of the sermon, the kind lady sitting behind me gently nudged me awake, and, blinking away the sleep, I quickly woke up enough to extinguish the candles as the service concluded. Later, I learned Rev. Hutchinson had explained to the congregation my double-duty weekend and told them just to let me rest. But at that moment … I was mortified.

I wish I could tell you I learned my lesson that Sunday morning—that never again would I let the bright baubles of the world distract me from learning about God’s Word—but I’ve had to learn it over and over. Wasted hours slip away on television and internet foolishness.

One of these days, I’m going to feel that gentle nudge on my shoulder again, and I’m going to turn and see my Lord. I hope I’m not mortified, again.

Are you ready for the Lord to tap on your shoulder?

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He slammed the door in my face.

I tried to do everything I could to encourage my dad. I tried to change his focus, pointing out that his present rehab facility was better than the last one he had been in a few years ago. I gave him this Scripture, thinking surely God’s Word would encourage him: I will never leave you: I will never abandon you. It didn’t go over well. He told me to quit preaching.

My eighty-seven-year-old father had undergone hip replacement surgery and was in a nursing home, trying to learn to walk again. He desperately wanted to go back home, but he had to get his strength back first. I think at times, my dad felt as if the Lord had abandoned him. It can feel that way in life when we go through times of darkness.

Sometimes, we don’t understand why we go through difficult times. Trusting God is difficult when things go wrong and all hope seems lost. I felt abandoned when my mom committed suicide and at other times when my faith was tested.

My dad refused to listen and be encouraged that day, but our heavenly Father will always listen to us. He will never leave us because He said he wouldn’t. In this life, we will have difficult times because life this side of heaven will never be easy. But God is always there to guide and comfort us through our horrific circumstances. That is something I look forward to with joy.

Trust that God will never leave you.

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Our backyard is every little boy’s paradise: a giant pile of dirt.

The bank where we dug the dirt out for our new project was extremely steep. Carter, my oldest, figured out a way to climb up on his own. Everything that big brother does, little brother wants to do too. Daniel, my youngest, desperately tried to climb the steep bank. He fussed and hollered. He pawed and jumped, but he couldn’t climb the bank.

Finally, Carter came from behind and pushed Daniel up. Even though he wasn’t strong enough, Carter kept trying. Slowly, Daniel climbed a little higher. Carter finally wrapped his arms around his little brother and said, “I got you, buddy.” Then he hollered up to me, “Mama, help pull him to the top.” By that point, he was high enough for me to grab his arms and pull him to the top.

Carter trying to lift his younger brother up pictures what Christians should do. There are people all around us who are stuck in deep holes or messy dirt. We need to do everything within our power to come alongside them—or even push them from behind—and say, “Hey, I got you, buddy.” We may not be able to lift them all the way up, but a little boost may be enough to get them off the bottom and into the reach of Jesus who waits at the top. Although we aren’t the saviors, we can be the lifeline God uses to get others to the Savior.

Look around for opportunities to come alongside others, wrap your arms around them, and say, “I got you, buddy.”

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A flash of lighting in the dark often terrifies children.

I expected Sam, my oldest grandson, to be scared too. On one of his overnight stays, I laid out a foam mattress, along with blankets, on the living room floor for him. Then I put a sleeping bag and blanket beside it for me. We had an indoor campout.

As we lay in the dark, I thought of a time twenty years before when I lay awake listening for my son Tyler to breathe. As I lay beside my grandson, I saw lightning flash periodically, casting quick shadows in the dark room. I thought of how Sam wasn't concerned in the least with the weather outside. I also thought of how he hadn't given a thought to whether he would be warm and comfortable or even fed or safe. When he finally closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, I was sure none of these thoughts entered his little mind.

I also thought about how our heavenly Father desires for us to depend on Him. He wants us to trust Him completely, as Sam did me. To trust to the point where our care and provision never cross our mind. He also wants us to be so sure of His care that the storm around us doesn’t faze us, no matter how dark and scary the shadows might be. He wants us to lie next to Him and close our eyes in total peace, knowing we are safe from all harm.

Doing so is a great testimony of God’s care for us. For Him to have our total trust and dependence brings the same satisfaction to His heart as Sam's complete and unquestioning faith did to mine. 

Take the necessary steps so you can have complete faith in your heavenly Father's care.

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My alarm rang me awake at 4:45 in the morning.

Had there been a snooze, I would have slapped it, but this was 1970, and my clock was a wind-up Big Ben with no snooze button. So I turned the alarm off and urged my thirteen-year-old body out of my warm bed and into my clothes.

Waiting for me seven blocks away near Winston-Salem’s Baptist Hospital were fifty editions of the Winston-Salem Journal newspaper. I was a paperboy, and my job was to deliver those papers to the front stoops and porches of the houses on my route. So I dressed and padded my way quietly down through the house to the garage. Gathering up my trusty ten-speed, I eased the garage door open … and stopped in wonder. The world was white with snow.

This was a first. I had never delivered papers in the snow before, but I rolled my bike out and lowered the garage door. Snow fell hard, but only an inch or so had accumulated. I had no trouble traversing the seven blocks to my papers. By the time I had them rolled and in my shoulder bag, another couple of inches had fallen.

An hour later, I was in trouble. Slogging through ever-deepening snow, I was soaked. My canvas sneakers were wet and my toboggan cap sodden. I had opened my coat to cover the papers, and now I felt ice-coated and was shivering uncontrollably.

Suddenly, headlights flashed over me, and a car horn sounded. I turned and saw the most welcome sight in the world: our car with Dad at the wheel. Observing the weather when he arose, he had wrestled the snow chains onto the car and come to my rescue. Together, we finished the paper route. With the heat on high and my bicycle in the trunk, I was sound asleep by the time we got home.

My Father in heaven lovingly watches over me, just as my earthly dad did. When the going gets beyond my ability to handle, He has proven over and over He will be there. He holds me in His hand, and I have rested there in peaceful gratitude more than once.

If you are slogging on a hopelessly torturous path with no end in sight, give it to God. Rest in Him. His love will never let you down.

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On a fall day in 1979, my mom got into the car and pulled out of the driveway.

The next day, I found her car at a bridge. Rescuers found her remains in the Minnesota River about a week later. She was a recovering alcoholic at the time. In her suicide note, she said she felt as if she had not been a good mother. My dad re-married for the third time the following year.

Later, my dad divorced my step-mom. He did what he has done every time trouble has erupted in a relationship: got in the car and left town. Somehow, I discovered where he lived and wrote to him several times, but he never wrote back. All I had was a post office box number with no street address. 

I find it ironic that both of my parents got into a car and left. I felt abandoned, as if they had left me alone on the street to fend for myself. The good news is that my step-mother re-married my dad. We were re-united, and I stayed in touch with him the last four years of his life.

God assured Joshua, the new leader of Israel, that He would never leave or forsake him.

I am so grateful that I, too, don‘t have to worry about my heavenly Father pulling out of the driveway. He has promised never to leave or forsake me, even though it might not always feel as if He is near. The Lord knew I was hurting, and He allowed my dad to come back into my life. But even if that had never happened, I knew my heavenly Father was there. I just needed to trust Him.

Regardless of who else might leave you, Jesus never will.

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Every new school year was an overwhelming experience in our house.

Raising five active and needy children—in addition to two exhausting careers—often caused my wife and me to remember the picture of a donkey with a too-heavy load. The donkey was lifted off the ground and stuck in the air. Under him were the words, “I can handle it. Just give me a minute.”

We found when we stopped trying to handle being overwhelmed by ourselves and instead put our loads in the Lord’s hands, we discovered peace and relief.

Life has been filled with labor that is often heavy and overwhelming since Adam and Eve experienced unpleasant results from their disobedience in the Garden of Eden. The woman received increased pain and suffering with childbearing. The man had to sweat away his life struggling with “thorns and thistles.” Now that both men and women work to provide for the family, women often deal with thorny jobs also.

Each day pray, “Lord help me.” Today’s verse is often misunderstood. We think it only applies when a person can’t figure out any more answers. But we aren’t to come to God only when we are at the end of our strength and have nowhere else to go.

Another verse is often forgotten in this competitive, fast-paced world: Without Me, you can do nothing. Jesus meant what He said. All good gifts come from God, and that includes our health and strength. We must continually come to Jesus for companionship and help.

Even as small choices determine quality and outcome, choices also determine life and death.

Each day pray, “Lord help me.”

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I sometimes had a disrespectful attitude when I was in the seventh grade.

My homeroom teacher often gave unannounced locker checks. On one of these surprise occasions, the teacher told us to file into the hallway and stand by our lockers. I felt confident my locker would pass inspection, so I had no worries. When Mr. Pack reached my locker, I proudly opened the door and quickly caught a few flying papers being held hostage inside. My teacher looked at the disorganized mess and declared, “That’ll be five demerits, young lady.”

Without thinking, I stomped my foot and cried, “No way!”

“Make that ten demerits because of your attitude,” he replied.

“But, Mr. Pack!” I whined.

“Five more!”

I was stubborn, but a building didn’t have to fall on me for me to realize my attitude was bad. After losing fifteen points off my deportment (my conduct grade), I closed my mouth and proceeded to clean out my locker.

When Paul wrote to the church at Philippi, he instructed them to have an attitude like Christ’s. He also encouraged them to let others see God working in them.

As Christians, we need to show the world our lives are full of the joy of Christ, not the disgruntlement of ourselves. We need to “provide people with a glimpse of . . . the living God” within us.

I am grateful I outgrew my seventh-grade insolence. As an adult, I can still have an occasional bad attitude. However, I have learned that approaching life with joy, respect, and humility makes me a better person. It also helps me set a better example for others.

Think twice before stomping your foot, grumbling, and complaining about life. Instead, be of good cheer. Be the fresh air that society needs, and let others see God living in you.

Think of one way you can adjust your attitude.

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"It's cancer," she said. Her voice broke. "It's bad." And then the tears came. "It's not fair,” she cried.    

My heart wept with her. She was right—it certainly wasn't fair. If anyone could claim unfairness, it was my friend. Over the last twelve months, she had lost her mother and then her father. Just a few weeks prior to our conversation, she had buried her only surviving sibling—her beloved brother—who had succumbed to an incredibly aggressive and fast-moving cancer.  

Now, cancer had her…again. Cancer had already took one bite at her years earlier and had left her body scarred and mutilated as the doctors chopped away at the relentless disease. Now just a few days after her first chemo session, we spoke again on the phone. I could hear in her tremulous voice how far she had fallen. As we talked, a coughing fit seized her, which led to a nose bleed—a relentless consequence of the chemo. Only able to get out a few words between dabs at her bleeding nose, her tears poured out in frustration.

I waited patiently until she wrestled her sobs under control. The crying wasn't really her; I knew. She was a strong woman, but her past year would have brought the strongest person to tears. Of course, the tears brought on more bleeding from her nose. After a few heroic breaths, she finally brought everything under control, and we continued our conversation.

She asked what I was doing. I told her I was writing this devotion.

"Will you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied.

"Will you tell them to be grateful for what they have today? Will you tell them to look around at the family they still have with them…at the health they enjoy…and be grateful for what they have? Because it can all be gone in the blink of an eye."

“You just did, my dear friend. You just did.” And she did what Paul enjoined all of us to do.

What are you thankful for as this year slips to a close and slides into 2020? What can you thank God for as the New Year dawns?

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My “Merry Christmas” brought a strange look.

My accent is so thick that I don't have to go beyond our local supermarket or Wal-Mart for people to listen and grin when I talk.

When I visited Minnesota in the summer of 2016, I spoke to random people just because I knew my southern accent would get looks and begin conversations. After I had gotten the look, I asked, "Would you believe I'm a local?" Of course, everyone says, "No," and the conversation turns to where I am from. While in Minnesota, I had the opportunity to tell them about the new Baptist churches we were working on. When I said the number one word that Northerners want to know if Southerners really say, "Y'all," everyone gave a good belly laugh.

I bet you have already smiled at least once. Maybe even laughed at the thoughts of a Southerner ordering at McDonald's in Minnesota or Illinois. 

We can be friendly and wish everyone we see a “Merry Christmas,” along with giving them a big smile. Not only will it help them, but it will also make us feel pretty good too. When we wish people Merry Christmas, they might pay more attention to the calendar. And it will brighten someone's day, if only for a moment.

We all need those escapes from reality that come from an unexpected greeting or someone using good manners and being polite. Good laughs and trips down memory lane are also helpful. We might be surprised at how many witnessing opportunities a greeting to a stranger might bring.

God wants us to be full of joy so the world can see Christ's love in our lives. We might even get to tell someone what Christmas is really about.

Try saying Merry Christmas to someone today.

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Shoppers hurried into the mall to escape the winter winds.

One man ambled towards the entrance, methodically tapping his cane. He pulled a flute from his tattered jacket and played Christmas melodies. Passersby scarcely noticed him. A mother dropped a coin in the overturned hat. A teenager handed him a water bottle. It was my chance to talk to him.

“Excuse me, sir, but why do you play?”

“Fer Jesus.”

 “Does anybody ever take your money? You wouldn’t know seeing as ...”

“I sees them with me ears. They can have me coins. I play ’cause I want ’em to have a song in they’s heart like I’s got in mine.”

As the flutist played “Mary’s Song,” I felt a warmth erase the wind that whipped onto the sidewalk from the nearby alley.

I learned something that day. Although the gentleman was blind and poor, the song of the Lord residing within gave him a joy no one could take. Rather than worrying about his circumstances, he focused on expressing the song within his heart.

Like the flutist, Mary had a song in her heart no one could steal. Her song, “The Magnificat,” declared her faith. She sang about her surprise to learn God had chosen her to birth the Savior. She glimpsed the impact of Christ’s birth—that it would bless generations. Expectantly, she sang about God’s sovereignty.

Mary reminds me of the flutist. She knew she’d have a difficult journey, but she kept a song in her heart when challenges came. As gossip mongers publicized her premarital pregnancy, she kept singing. When she and Joseph fled from wicked King Herod, I imagine Mary whispered lullabies into her child’s ears. As her Son lay upon the cross, beaten and dying a horrible death with His blood pooling at her bended knees, I am certain Mary had at least one chord from her Spirit-song residing within her wounded soul. But when Jesus arose, the whole world sang, as did Mary.

Christmas is a time to resurrect the song of the Lord that He’s placed within you. Listen closely. The Great Flutist has written a melody on the recesses of your heart.

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Stepping over the threshold of the restaurant, I spied a shiny penny.

After reaching down to pick it up, I noticed not just one, but thousands of real pennies. The builder of the establishment had used pennies, some shiny and some not so shiny, to tile the entire floor of the entryway. I thought, What a waste.

When I was a child, I bought penny candy at the country store near my grandfather’s house. I wore penny loafers in the fourth grade. I kept a piggy bank in my room, and I took great pride in making frequent deposits. My parents always advised, “Save your pennies!” They also often asked, “A penny for your thoughts?”

I believe in the value of the penny, literally and metaphorically. People who donate their pennies to organizations such as Fellowship of the Least Coin and Pennies for Peace help provide meaningful services to impoverished people throughout the world. These small but heartfelt donations are pennies from heaven to people in need.

The widow who gave an offering of two small copper coins made a big faith sacrifice. Those two coins were all she had to live on. In contrast, the scribes and Pharisees gave what they did not need. When Christ said she had given more than all the other contributors, He used her kind of sacrifice as an example of the type we should all be willing to make for Him.

Focusing on cost rather than value is tempting. Living in a throw-away society, we often place more value on possessions than we do on relationships. However, if we focus on the value of things that money cannot buy, God will richly reward us. Like the widow, if we give beyond our ability, Christ will supply our needs.

Reconsider the value of the penny as well as the value of your talents, your time, and your treasures. Then give accordingly.

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It was noon, and the playroom was already a mess.

As I finished washing the dishes, I realized I needed to prepare lunch. I looked around, and my heart sank. Toys and books littered the floor. The children, though having a great time, ran chaotically around the room and into the halls. Their singing, screaming, and laughter seemed deafening. I took a deep breath and whispered, “God, please help me.”

In the midst of the commotion came a still small voice, “Give thanks.” I instantly knew it was my heavenly Father, but “Give thanks?”

I took a deep breath and accepted the assignment. I looked around the room once more, now with a fresh perspective, and thanked the Father for my eyes.   

I was in a home where love prevailed. My children and I were safe. “Thank You for my home and my children,” I whispered. My children ran, screamed, and sang. I whispered again, “Thank You, Lord, for healthy children with healthy voices.” I was also at home at 11 a.m. instead of work, and I thanked God for that privilege too.

For the next thirty seconds, I reveled in gratefulness. My heart was full. As I smiled and left to bring order to my blessed situation, I gave my final thank you. “Thank You, dear Father, for helping me to see Your blessings in the midst of it all.” 

Sometimes it is easy to forget that each moment of life is a gift that warrants gratitude. We tend to remember only when things are going our way. But God uses all times to help us remember how precious we are to Him and also the gifts He gives us every day. His will is for us to thank Him in every circumstance.

Unfortunately, we tend to hear Him best when life becomes turbulent. When that happens, stop, breathe, and say, “Thank You.” Use the opportunity to see God’s blessings and love.

Give thanks. It will bless your day.

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Just about the time the predawn light creeps over the eastern horizon on Thanksgiving morning, I’ll bundle up against the cold and slip out the door.

Waiting for me in our outdoor fire circle are meticulously stacked piles of hickory wood, prepared the day before. Carefully cradling my precious mug of coffee, I’ll light the fire that will lead, in a few hours, to a delicious smoked turkey.

Once I start the hickory burning, I’ll settle in with my coffee and feel the warmth of the growing fire wash over me. Once it is light enough to read, I’ll open my Bible, but for now, it’s just my Father and me. This is one of my favorite times of the whole year … this time by the fire early on Thanksgiving morning. A time to be thankful for what I have by God’s amazing grace.

By the time I’ve refilled my mug a couple or three times, the sun will stream through the bare trees nestled to the east. The coals at the heart of the fire will glow and shimmer with heat. This is the signal to load the firebox on the smoker with hot hickory coals and then retrieve the turkey, prepared the night before. Settling the bird on the top rack and a large bowl of apple cider on the bottom shelf, the cider will steam up into the turkey as the heat increases—keeping it moist and adding another layer of flavor.

And with that, for the most part, my contribution is done. Oh, I’ll keep adding hickory logs to the fire and hot hickory coals to the firebox, but the turkey is on its own now, cooking slowly in the hickory smoke. In eight hours or so, it will be ready.

Thanksgiving will spin on. Charlotte will prepare the side dishes and desserts she does so well. Parades and football will be on television. Family and friends will filter in. But for me, the best part of Thanksgiving will be the quiet communion I have with my Father before the sun comes up. The rest of the day is just whipped cream on the pumpkin pie.

Don’t forget to give God thanks this Thanksgiving.

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I didn’t expect all the challenges I would face when my daughters entered high school.

I knew things would be okay because God was with me. He would take care of the challenges, give me the correct answers, and make everything right. After all, I was a woman of faith.

Well, my faith evaporated like ice cubes left in the hot sun. I had to decide about parties, friends, curfews, makeup, skirt length, phone privileges, and discipline. I knew I had to bring them up to love the Lord above all else, but wondered if I was giving them mixed messages when they saw me lose my temper and yell at them. Did that show God’s love?

Raising kids in the eighties and nineties was different than today. It was even more different when Solomon penned the proverb, Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. I didn’t have to deal with cell phones, the internet, foul language on the airways, music laden with obscenities, sex education beginning in kindergarten, schools that follow a curriculum opposed to Christian values, a constant flow of bad news, and inappropriate behavior on television shows and movies.

Although the time was different, my mother’s love and concern were the same. There was a time when I was so desperate for answers that I poured out my heart to Jesus. If You are really there, why aren’t You answering my prayers?  Don’t You see what’s happening? Don’t You care?

When I did, Jesus spoke the verse from Proverbs to my heart. Circumstances may have changed, but Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever. When discouragement comes, we can trust in God’s goodness.

No matter your circumstances, remember God loves you. His Word is true, and you can count on it. He is working behind the scenes to accomplish more than you could ever imagine.

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“Who lives here?”

“We do,” I said.

“How long have you lived here?”

“We live here together. Remember, I’m your wife.”

He stared until recognition crossed his face. “When can we go home?”

“We are home. This is where we live now.” Over and over, I gently prodded his memory.

Following a heart attack, a stroke, a fall that resulted in severe brain injury, and a lack of oxygen when his heart and lungs stopped functioning, my husband seemed a goner by medical staff. Miraculously, he survived, but he would need long-term care.

After four weeks, he walked into our home—a home he didn’t recognize. After several days, he began recalling the move to our house, and his questions changed.

“When did we leave the old house?”

“About nine years ago,” I responded.

“Where do we keep the soap?” Or shampoo, bowls, or countless other items used daily. We found them together.

One part of our routine he never questioned was our evening time of Bible reading and prayer. After I finished reading a Bible passage each night—and before we prayed and turned out the lights—he clasped my hand in his.

My husband’s need for outpatient therapy lasted only a few weeks. He quickly progressed from walker to cane to nothing but supervision. Gradually, he regained almost full independence. Bit by bit, most of his memory also returned. He moved from little long-term and almost no short-term memory to primarily short-term memory loss.

The summer following my husband’s hospitalizations, we took a short vacation. Although a refreshing change, it also proved exhausting. The closer we came to Kentucky on our return home, the more excited we grew. Finally, we crossed the state line. With joy in my heart, I echoed his spoken sentiment: “I’ll certainly be glad when we get home.”

Our experience pales in comparison to the rejoicing we’ll experience when we cross the threshold of our eternal home.

Jesus waits with open arms for you to come home. Are you ready?

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I once watched a YouTube video about underwater caves. Explorers entered caves, which had stalagmites and stalagmites, as well as other interesting things from long ago. This is one reason explorers love diving into them.

Several men talked about how scientists had said climate change could destroy the blue holes and the underwater caves within a lifetime. One man said he didn't know how he could go on if he didn't have his “church underwater”—as if to say he thought he'd have no reason for living without underwater caves.

I thought of this verse: Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of person ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness. I love watching videos about scuba diving, and if I wasn't legally blind and had the chance, I think I would scuba dive—although I may not explore underwater caves.

God says there will come a time when He will burn up the earth. In the book of Revelation, John said he saw no more sea. Although this can be disappointing to sea lovers, what God has in eternity for those who love Him is far better than anything our minds can comprehend or earth can offer.

Peter says we should live our lives to please God so that we'll be ready to see Jesus face-to-face, which will be the most wonderful thing we will ever experience.  

Live your life as though you want to see Jesus face-to-face.

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The date was October 17, 1954, and Guy and Bryte Lane were hiking across Oak Island, North Carolina.

Their stroll was not a Sunday stroll. Because the bridge was out, they had to take a makeshift ferry just to get to the island. The roads they had traveled in the past were impassable or obliterated. The majestic oaks that gave the island its name lay in mangled ruin.

Guy and Bryte made their way to Long Beach, where they hoped to find their two-year-old oceanfront beach cottage, Sea Lane, still standing. Two days earlier, Hurricane Hazel had howled ashore just south of Oak Island.

When the couple finally broke out of the trees, they paused in shock. The beach had been wiped clean. Out of the 357 structures that had stood forty-eight hours earlier, only five remained on their foundation. Most cottages were in a jumbled mess, 500 feet from where they had once stood. The hurricane had created a brand new inlet, splitting the island in half.

And so it was with Sea Lane. As Guy and Bryte reached what had once been East Beach Drive, they realized their beloved cottage, like so many others, was gone.

The story could have ended here. Guy could have sold the oceanfront lots he owned and washed his hands of the whole affair. But he didn’t. Half buried in the swamp behind the beach, Guy found a surprisingly intact cottage. He contacted the owner, purchased it for $500, hauled it back to the beach, and put it up on deep-driven wooden pilings. There, his wife and their four children painstakingly cleaned out the mud and swamp water.

This new “Sea Lane” provided generations of Guy and Bryte’s children, grandchildren (including your humble author), and great-grandchildren with years of memories. All because Guy Lane refused to let a hurricane stand in the way of providing for his wife the beach cottage she longed to enjoy.

Paul encountered constant obstacles as he struggled to fulfill God’s will: hunger, thirst, robbery, shipwrecks, snakebite, beatings, stoning, and even a hurricane of his own. Yet he, too, persevered and completed the journey God set before him.

What is God calling you to finish today? Don’t let obstacles keep you from it.

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The tree loppers worked hard.

Our yard backs up to a school playground. We rose one morning to the sound of chain saws. The workers were removing a mistletoe-infested tree from the school yard.

Tall and majestic and a leafy haven for local birdlife, the tree was there one day, gone the next. The sounds of the birds disappeared. All was quiet. No longer did we experience the music of baby birds learning to feed and fly.

Change also occurred for us. Our view changed. Our yard now laid bare and open to all passersby.  

Sometimes, God does this to us. When we become comfortable—settled in our ways and content with our rate of growth—He rips something from under us and propels us into another level of awakedness.

At first, we only see what we have lost. But as God gently opens new doors and possibilities, we see our lives afresh as new hope arises.

Ruth, a Moabite who married a Jewish son of Naomi, faced a similar situation. When these two women both lost their men to death, Ruth followed Naomi back to her homeland, an arduous journey with an unknown future. But God had great plans for Ruth. She resettled and eventually became King David’s great-grandmother and an ancestor to the Messiah, Jesus Christ.

As we sat in front of the fire during the winter months, we reflected on the change the tree loppers brought to our comfort zone. We gained enough wood to heat our home the whole winter. Birds, too, are slowly returning to our backyard.

Adjusting to sudden change can be traumatic. Sometimes life throws us unto unfamiliar territory. Change gives us opportunity to remember God always accompanies us wherever we go, whatever we do, and whatever happens. Then, peace invades our hearts as we explore those new horizons He opens, which help us mature into the image of Jesus Christ.

Allow God to make the changes needed for you to grow. He is trustworthy.

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Some of my fondest memories have been around our four-legged beast.

Dinner time has always been an event at our house. Our family comes together around our table to eat, but conversations emerge and then laughter—lots of laughter. Sometimes, we toss food around, feed the dogs under the table what the kids don’t want, read the Bible, and make prayers—all the time. 

We have signed college scholarship papers for two of our kids on that table, celebrated many birthdays, and completed numerous homework assignments. It's a hallmark of our kitchen. It bids us come, eat, fellowship, be in the vicinity of each other, watch the outdoors when in disagreement, and hold hands to pray in good and bad times.

We've changed diapers on that table when necessary as well as popped champagne and wiped tears. But one thing stands firm: we were never alone around the table. Even when we couldn’t find placemats and had to use paper plates, the table reminded us of love and an invitation to join. Loneliness has never surrounded our table. 

God also sets a table before us. He wants us to come, take a seat, and enjoy His company. But more than that, He invites us to commune, talk, reason, and argue. He also invites us to express disappointments and misunderstandings, shed tears, and talk about all kinds of mysteries. He wants us to jump up excitedly about victories won and mourn the losses that break our hearts.

But we have to join God. By doing so, we also let our heavenly siblings love on us and do life with us. Jesus ate with Pharisees, had expensive perfume poured on Him, served friends, prepared a table within eyesight of His enemies, and blessed food—all around a table. 

Jesus wants us to spend some time at the table and let Him serve us from the rich bounty of His Word. He can heal us of any brokenness we have.

Feast on God’s goodness. Let Him handfeed you His rich truths. 

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Fall leaves crunch underfoot and brisk air invigorates every movement.

My girls squeal on the giant inflatable pillow at the pumpkin patch. Jumps and twirls delight them. The sister’s hold each other tightly as they race from one end to the other. The erratic bounces of the other gleeful children force a higher bounce and a tumble onto the lively pillow. Louder squeals ensue. Their joy is not hindered by a fall, but rather they look forward to the other sister pulling them back up. Complete trust in each other’s love. What an amazing gift from God.

As the writer of Ecclesiastes knew, we can’t do this thing called life alone. We need other people around us whom we can trust to pick us back up.

In my life, I’ve experienced no shortage of falls. However, there has been a lack of people I can count on to pick me back up.

As Christ followers, we know where our real help comes from—the Lord. If we lack in loving and trusting relationships, we can go to Him with our requests. He is a God of abundance, and His love for us is immeasurable. He will grant us friends to sit with us during hard times. He will bring divine connections of people who can speak light into our lives. He will let us feel His hand, lifting us up through the hands of His chosen people.

God will also give us the strength to pick others up. We will refuse to ignore their hurting. He will enable us to sit with someone in their pain without judgment.

Ask God for friends who have His character; patience, gentleness, and faithfulness.

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As I write this, the Autumnal Equinox has arrived.

The first day of fall is a day of transformation at our house. Framing our front door are the black, red, and gold stripes of the flag of Germany and the blue and white diamonds of the flag of Bavaria. Lights decorate our windows, and large colorful leaves hang from our ceiling as if falling. Vibrant autumn-hued garlands of leaves and pumpkins outline our windows. Everywhere, symbols of Oktoberfest abound.

The reason for all this? My wife is a daughter of Germany—from Augsburg in Bavaria—where this time of year all eyes are on the bright lights, rides, and tents of the Oktoberfest in Munich. It has been fifty-five years since my dear Charlotte was last in her native Bavaria. But we decorate to celebrate the opening of the Oktoberfest in Munich and to bring a little of the Oktoberfest to Charlotte.

This time next month, Charlotte and I, along with family and friends, will gather in the northeast Georgia mountains for one of the best Oktoberfests this side of Munich. It is an annual event for us—part vacation and part family reunion. I'll hope my Lederhosen fits for another year, and Charlotte will joyfully get out her colorful Dirndls. We'll dance polkas and waltzes to accordion-heavy oompah bands, and feast on bratwursts and pretzels. (We're not talking bags of Snyders here. We're talking the dinner-plate size soft, hot, and incredibly delicious authentic Bavarian pretzels shipped from Munich.) It is all to let Charlotte touch her heritage … to hold on to that part of her she once called home.

I also have another celebration of another faraway heritage. My body … my life … is an ongoing celebration of my future with my Father in heaven.

Through Moses, God gave the Israelites annual celebrations and events that pictured the coming Christ. I have been given the Bible, the Word of God. It is a picture of my heritage. Its words are my celebration. Its Psalms are my songs. In it are my proper attire, my armor, my wisdom. Inside it are the seeds of my future, waiting to be planted, so that I can be a true ambassador of my proper, genuine, and authentic home. Now that's worth celebrating.

Find a way to celebrate your heavenly heritage.

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Here I was, right in the thick of it.

Day three of Vacation Bible School rolled around. This, I had argued with the children’s director who had asked me to volunteer, was not my spiritual gift. I felt called to teach women.

She countered with “You are a Bible teacher, and we need you. I can count on you to teach the truth.”

The day before, I had taught the children about the plagues of the Exodus. They really enjoyed hearing about the boils. By day three, they were overly excited and practically bouncing off the walls. I could barely contain them. I remarked to my co-teacher, “The first graders are here with their mob mentality. Be prepared.”

And much to my surprise, a deep connection happened. The first graders gave me their rapt attention. The Red Sea parted, and we tromped through the wilderness. Little Moses made bitter water sweet, and the breakfast cereal manna fascinated them. The paper quails kept their attention, and they recited in order everything they had learned the day before.

As I said goodbye, one of the little girls jumped into my arms for a hug. Her friends joined her and told me they would miss me. My heart was full (and convicted).

Children are a reward from God. We are a part of God’s family and should help bring children up so they know what it is to belong to the family. They just may surprise us and show us what the joy of our heritage is.

Don’t get stuck in a comfortable rut of serving God. God may have a surprise for you if you follow His leading.

Even when it is uncomfortable, enjoy God’s rewards.  

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My friend and I tried for several weeks to coordinate our calendars for a game of golf. Finally, we found an afternoon when we were both available. We talked about our jobs, families, and church responsibilities. Each of us commented on how busy we are.

“I’m not as proud of my busyness as I used to be,” he said.

I nodded.  

“I realized not long ago that when I take time away from work I get a headache. I talked to my doctor about it. It seems I’ve never learned to rest. When I try to take time off, I feel nervous about what’s going on back at the office, about getting behind on things. It makes me physically ill.” 

Life throws various stresses at us—jobs, school, family drama—making what God told the Israelites to do difficult, to observe the Sabbath. When we find a moment to relax, we can’t turn our minds off, sit still, or take a deep breath. Our inability to rest damages us physically and spiritually. Hurry jeopardizes our souls, leaving us weary and vulnerable to temptation and distracting us from the Father.

Meister Eckhart, a German philosopher from the thirteenth century, observed, “God is not found in the soul by adding anything but by subtracting.”

When we subtract hurry, distraction, and anxiousness, the fog of busyness dissipates and we see, maybe for the first time in a long time, the beauty and glory of our Lord.

In order to honor the Sabbath, we must break from work and rest, pushing the mess of life from our minds, hearts, and bodies. We focus on God—remembering and worshipping. In these moments, God is the Lord who makes us holy and molds us in the quiet.

So sit on the back deck with a glass of sweet tea. Or beside the creek with a fishing pole. Or in a quiet chapel with a Bible. Put the phone away, close the Outlook calendar, and exhale. Mediate. Reflect. Gaze upon God’s glory, and let Him cleanse your soul and fill your heart with His holiness.

Breathe in, breathe out, and be filled with God’s presence.

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In times of national emergencies, a buffer zone is usually a safe haven for vulnerable people facing stormy blasts.

During such times, people value the importance of peace and safety. National governments have to put in place adequate measures to arrest this ugly trend as soon as possible.

Sometimes in our nation, there are instances of national emergencies or conflict, but God has kept His people far away from these unforeseen situations. Whenever there is tension in our nation, we call on God before we do the government.

National disaster had taken place in Egypt. Hail, mingled with fire, affected the lives of people, plants, and animals. Tension reigned, but God secured His own people who were in the land of Goshen. The ravaging disaster did not touch them.

God knows how to secure His people in times of crisis. He is our shield and buckler, a present help in trouble. He wants us in His camp so His defence will continuously rest on those who put their trust in Him.

To enjoy divine safety in times of emergencies, we must be a friend of God. He is a Father who values the safety of His people. He is our rock and fortress always.

Trust God to keep you and your family safe in His hand and far away from any spiritual and physical disaster.

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The three-year-old sat in the middle of the floor and covered his eyes with his chubby fingers.

“You tant fin’ me now,” he said. All of the adults laughed. The child truly thought that because he couldn’t see anyone in the room, they couldn’t see him.

But the age-old game of hide-and-seek ceases to be funny when we try it out on God. “If I can’t see you, Lord—if I’m not praying, reading your Word, holding my tongue, controlling my anger, being obedient, and worshiping You as Lord of my life—then You can’t see all my mistakes and the mess I’ve made of my life. I’ll come out of hiding when I clean up my act.”

In reality, hiding from our Creator is impossible. He knows where we are every moment. He knows our thoughts and the intent of our heart. He hears every word spoken and sees every deed—good or bad. He even keeps track of the number of hairs on our head. The psalmist tells us there is no escaping His presence. And why would we want to?

Someone once said that trying to clean up our messes before we come to God is like waiting for the bleeding to stop before we go to the hospital. Our Father sees every need and patiently waits with open arms for us to run into them. He doesn’t want us to try to hide from Him, and He certainly doesn’t hide from us. God’s game is only to seek. He pursues us with His relentless love and expects us to seek Him with our whole heart.

If you’re living in the shadows, thinking you’re not visible on God’s radar, take His hand and walk into the glorious light of His presence. He will make all things new. No more hiding.

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My grandson Caleb loves to ride in the car.

Caleb embraces the journey, describing every horse, monster truck, race car, fast food place, playground, and even the bugs on the windshield as we motor along. He keeps up a running commentary as we ride, as if he could pull the wondrous outside world into the car with him. With Caleb, it is never, “Are we there yet?” Rather, it’s always, “Can’t we go somewhere else?”

I wish I could face my daily journey as a Christian as enthusiastically as Caleb’s journeys in the car. Yes, I know I’m going to heaven, but there’s much more to my daily Christian life than just waiting for that wondrous final reward.

I remember singing in church of “the sweet by and by,” but all too often I wake up grumpy to a new day faced with the hard now and now. Yet that too is part of my journey, part of my growing process. Christ is alive in my heart, longing to fill every minute of my life if I would just let Him.

Paul speaks of our Christian life as a marathon, a long-distance run. As a former long-distance runner, I should appreciate this more, but I often find myself forgetting that the endurance of each step is its own reward. I find myself merely looking ahead to my promised finish line, rather than embracing the journey that gets me there. All too often, I start the day with, “Are we there yet?”

But God is patient with me, pulling me up and helping me start again on our daily walk together. He helps me sleepily put one foot in front of the other and take that first step of the new day. He reminds me He will be there when the race ends to sweep me into His arms—but also that He is in my heart right now, helping me every step of the way. And always I hear the whisper of His voice urging me to be more like Caleb ... to embrace His journey for me with boundless enthusiasm.

Don’t let preoccupation with your destination spoil your journey.

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Wringing my hands, I tried to calm my fluttering stomach while my mother and I waited in the hard-cushioned chairs.

Sounds of squeaking shoes and a crying child echoed from the hall into our small room. Opening the door, the neurologist greeted us and washed his hands. He asked a few questions and examined my mom. His next sentence took our breath away: “You have Lou Gehrig’s Disease.” 

Mom and I ducked into a private room and hugged as tears streamed down our faces. Thoughts swirled in my mind, and worry seized my heart. ALS is terminal. Why God? Why my mom? How can this be Your will?

On the night of His betrayal, Jesus gave thanks. He knew Judas would betray him, but Jesus requested a Passover meal with him and the other disciples anyway. Jesus knew His suffering was imminent, yet He expressed gratitude to God—two times.

By focusing on His heavenly Father and the promise of the future reward, Jesus chose joy and endured the cross (Hebrews 12:2). He realized suffering was temporary, but God’s promises were eternal.

My mom passed away one year later. Even though the pain still hurts and I miss her, I’m thankful for the promise of eternal life with our heavenly Father.

When trials come or when you receive earth-shattering news, follow Jesus’s example. Give thanks and focus on your heavenly Father. Ask God to center your eyes on Him, not your circumstances.

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Walking with my wife and our grandson at a zoo near our house in Surprise, Arizona, I was overpowered by beauty.

Looking at the birds in the aviary, I was reminded of God. I saw birds with brilliant and diverse designs and stopped in silent awe. The Chinese pheasants were masterpieces of color, as was each species of bird surrounding them.

Standing there, I thought of a Bible verse: “All flesh is not the same flesh, but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, and another of birds” (1 Corinthians 15:39). And also, “God said, ‘Let the earth bring forth the living creatures according to its kind … each according to its kind and it was so’” (Genesis 1:24).

Later, we went to the aquarium and saw amazing fish, such as the “Discus fish,” which was so striking in all its pastel colors that our grandson stood still for several minutes.

We left the zoo thinking about the birds, the fish, and the giraffe—who stood fifteen-feet off the ground on a platform and ate out of our son’s hand. Our time together left us laughing, sharing, and blessed. The animals demonstrated Jesus’ creative love, for all things are made by Him.

The best outcome of the zoo trip was that our grandson asked Jesus to come into his heart after my wife testified to him and stressed how each person has to ask Jesus to do this. He now gives such beautiful prayers at our meals.

Talk about Jesus when you are with your children. Tell them about His love and what He has done. You will miss them someday if you are in heaven without them.

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Sometimes, unusual things appear in rural mailboxes.

My husband, who was a minister, left me for a woman in our congregation. I had never worked outside the home, but God opened doors only He could have opened. Within three weeks, I was employed at a nonprofit organization.

When my husband left, we were living in the church’s parsonage. The officers of the church graciously gave permission for me to continue living there until a new minister was called. All they asked was that I keep the lawn mowed. Several people from the church were kind to me and gave needed support and encouragement. I will always remember their loving acts.

One hot summery day, I came home from a stressful day at work and stopped at the large rural mailbox to pick up my mail. Inside the box, I found a fresh crisp salad, accompanied by a container of salad dressing and crackers. Marjorie, an older member, had placed the salad in the mailbox just moments before she knew I’d be home. I enjoyed the tasty food twice as much, thinking of Marjorie and her thoughtfulness.

I lived in the parsonage for eight months until the church hired their new pastor. During that period, my special friends encouraged me in various ways. Verna was my listener and let me talk out my frustrations. Johnny and Velda, a sweet older couple, supplied me with meat and fresh eggs. Johnny also kept my push lawnmower working.

We don’t have to do extravagant things for people in order to give them a blessing. Small acts of kindness, like a salad in the mailbox, bring unexpected joy to those in need of encouragement.

When God’s Spirit nudges you to be a helper, an encourager, or a blessing, obey.

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My grandson once pinched his finger. Nothing serious. Just a small skin squeeze, but the sudden pain startled him. He waddled over to my chair and showed me his finger. I looked at it and asked if he wanted me to kiss it to make it better. He nodded and held up his finger.

I kissed it. "There, it's all better now."

He looked at his finger, looked at me, looked back at his finger, and then said, "Opa, your kisser doesn't work."

How many times have we heard the words, "The cancer has spread,” “There's been an accident,” or “We have to make some cuts in staff?" How many times have we fallen to our knees, begging God to remove the hurt, only to feel the pain gripping our heart?

Healing takes time. My grandson was young. He would learn that with time. God's healing takes time too, but we are young. We will learn this each time a new pain interrupts our day. We will also learn God's love is long-suffering … that He longs to hug us until the pain stops. And in the end, we forget the pain but never the touch of His embrace.

I lifted my grandson and placed him in my lap. I tucked his head against my chest and looked at his finger. In a few minutes, the sniffles stopped, and he hopped down and ran off—no longer focused on the pain.

We are never closer to God than when we hurt. Cry out to Him and say, "Kiss it, Opa, and make it better."

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I stood there with a silent hope that the tiny box on the counter would hold what I needed to regain my vision—or at least, enough to get me by.

A rummage under the sink had produced an old, rogue, still-packaged contact. There I stood with the thankful find—a left-eye prescription, which, I discovered, not only brought refreshment to me but completely adequate vision.

We each stand in a spiritual fog at times. We pray for solutions to problems. We wonder what we should do. We ask God to confirm callings. It’s hard to see the right path. The situation feels stagnant or even desperate.

But as God’s own, we don’t have to remain there. Paul writes the method of gaining greater revelation: “Let God change you.”

To let God change us, we must be in His presence daily. In addition to communicating with Him through prayer, a relationship that consists of reading His living Word, offering Him our sacrifice of praise, and being still to listen for Him helps us receive needed alterations and obtain the clarity we seek.

God knows your exact prescription. By keeping in contact with Him, you will experience refreshment and see your vision improve.

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I looked at the list of prayer concerns written on the 3 x 5 card and released a sigh of frustration.

I’d been praying about some of the situations for months. Years. Decades. Why don’t I see any progress, Lord? I wondered.

Across the top of the card, I’d written Zechariah 8:6. This is what the LORD Almighty says: "All this may seem impossible to you now, a small and discouraged remnant of God’s people. But do you think this is impossible for me, the LORD Almighty?" I knew the answer to God’s question. Of course nothing is impossible for Him. He is the LORD Almighty, Jehovah Sabaoth, the Commander of Heaven’s Angel Armies. His power is unlimited. I didn’t doubt God’s ability to answer my prayers, but His delay chaffed me. The fabric of my faith had worn thin—too fragile to protect my spiritual skin from the irritation of His apparent inactivity.

So I whined a bit in my prayer that morning and admitted my discouragement: “I’m tired of praying about these things, Lord.” But even as I whispered those words, guilt pricked me. You don’t doubt His power. Why do you doubt His timing? That’s when the Holy Spirit seemed to ask, “What do you think faith is, Denise?”

I read Zechariah 8:6 again. One phrase stood out—“this may seem impossible.” What seems to be true and what is true are often opposites. The people to whom Zechariah spoke thought God had forsaken them. But He hadn’t. God asked them to trust His goodness, His wisdom, and His power by focusing on what they knew was true about Him.

He asks me to do the same thing. For some reason it’s easier for me to say, “I know He is able to fix this someday” than to say, “I know He is doing just what needs to be done today.” The first response is a wistful “maybe” faith; the second response is a confident “absolutely” faith.

God’s not indifferent to our requests. Every day He is doing just what needs to be done according to His eternal plan. Therefore, I’ve changed the way I present my prayer concerns to God. Instead of saying, “Do something about this, Lord,” I now say, “I know You love this person, Lord, and are working in his life,” or “I know You are working on the solution to this problem, Lord. Help me wait patiently, confident You have everything under control.”

Believe in God’s power, and you can wait for His timing.

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I gathered the pieces and hid them in the bottom of the trashcan.

When I was a young girl, I broke my mother’s casserole dish. I still remember the feeling of its smooth surface, slick with water, as it slipped through my hands. For a moment, my heart stopped. Then, there was a loud crash and the dish shattered. When my mother came home, she asked, “Do you know what happened to my casserole dish?”

I am ashamed to say I lied. I told her I had no idea what had happened to it. My mother looked at me sadly and said, “I found the pieces in the bottom of the trashcan. I am very disappointed in you for lying.”

Many years later, I stumbled across the same dish at an antique store. The memory of my mother’s disappointed face rushed back to me. I purchased the dish immediately, lovingly wrapped it, and gave it to her as a gift.

When my mother opened the present, she was confused. “Thank you,” she said, “but I really don’t need another casserole dish.”

“Don’t you remember?” I asked. “This is a dish like the one I broke when I was young!”

She thought for a long time, then said with a smile, “Oh, I forgot all about that. I forgave you years ago.”

Although Mom had completely forgotten about the incident, it took me years to forgive myself. The forgiveness my mother showed me mirrors the forgiveness that God, our heavenly parent, shows toward us.

The psalmist tells us we are blessed when our sins are forgiven. We have no need to carry our guilt and sin with us for years—the way I carried the guilt I felt over breaking my mother’s casserole dish.

Sometimes, forgiving ourselves for mistakes we have made in the past is difficult, but God waits to offer us forgiveness. All we need to do is ask.

If there is something you have carried on your heart for years, ask God’s forgiveness—and then forgive yourself.

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The brilliant blue-white flash and the accompanying ripping crash of thunder brought me out of my nap in my office chair.

The wind hit the house as if God himself was knocking and wanted in badly. The warnings about this weather system had blared all day. The television weather-heads were beside themselves in their earnest misgivings. The computer monitor flashed continuous threats as Accuweather—the National Weather Service—and Weather Underground all chimed in with their concerns. Finally, my phone also joined the fun—beeping, dinging, and buzzing for my attention. Severe Thunderstorm Warning! Seek Shelter Now!

I ignored them and took a nap instead. The constant onslaught of dire weather warnings in this age of constant communication has all but caused me to tune them out. This past winter we endured snow warnings. Three inches, five inches, and eight inches were all forecast breathlessly. In the end, we didn't get the first snowflake.

But that was then; this was now. This time they had gotten it right. The house shook from the wind, and thunder roiled the atmosphere. I went to the front door just in time to see my heavy grill cover lifting from the grill. Stepping onto the porch, I was immediately blasted by the wind. Grabbing the grill cover, I wrestled it back into place and secured it with a block of firewood.

Incredibly, the wind got stronger. Small limbs blew past me. As I watched, the lawn chairs around the firepit lifted and flew toward the woods. Moving to get back inside, I cracked opened the storm door and felt it rip out of my hand. I grabbed it with both hands and stepped back inside. It took all my strength to pull the door shut. We survived with only a downed tree, fallen limbs, and a ripped camper canopy.

However, there is another storm coming. Indeed, it is already here. And God's Word is full of strident warnings about it's coming. The Bible's great summation—its "take away"—to the entire story is the Book of Revelation. And Revelation's beautiful message is simply this: Jesus IS coming back, and tribulation and persecution will precede His coming.

We have been warned. The alerts are sounding. The time is close ... so very close.

Think of something you can do to get ready for Jesus’ coming.

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