Spirit & Soul

Once, my hair was golden. It shone like the sun. Honey-colored locks that told me life was far from done.

Now, the mirror says otherwise, and mirrors do not lie. My snow-white locks murmur, “Before long, you shall lie among dear friends and family who have passed on long before. So, get ready now. Soon, you too shall pass through that door.”

At some point, we all find ourselves in a gloomy mood, especially as fall comes and we watch the summer flowers wither. When this happens, I tell myself two things: I have no idea when the Lord will call me home. I only know that, in Christ, I will be with Him and filled with joy. I also tell myself to read on to verse 17 of the psalm: “But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, and His righteousness to children’s children.”

That’s the part I must remember when those gloomy moments threaten to swallow me. God’s love is always with me. It always has been and always will be. We need verses to go to when the reality that we aren’t on this earth forever comes to mind.

Meanwhile, I think I’ll take a walk and pick up the prettiest fall leaf I can find. I know just where I will press it into my Bible.

Let the truths of God’s Word assure you of a better future. 

Wow! This organist played with two feet and two hands on three keyboards.

I was impressed as I watched and listened to musician Peter Joseph Holder play the pipe organ at All Saints Chapel in Sewanee, Tennessee. Having played for Queen Elizabeth II’s memorial service and King Charles III’s coronation, Holder was a master of his craft. From flourishes and overtures to songs fit for royalty, Holder’s music was filled with crescendo and decrescendo, peaceful and soothing sounds, and trumpeting reverberations worthy of the cathedral in which he played it.

As I focused on the sound more than the sight, the music’s ebb and flow reminded me of life’s ups and downs. At one point in my day, I am often excited to hear good news, such as the healthy birth of a friend’s baby or all As on my nephew’s report card. I am overjoyed to receive an unexpected letter from a high school friend.

But later that same day, I might hear a loud noise from my HVAC unit and need to call the repairman. Phone calls make me late for an appointment. A wreck on the interstate forces me to take an alternative route. I must prepare for the ebb and flow of life.

The third chapter of Ecclesiastes reminds us that life is full of delights and disappointments—a time for weeping and laughing.

The organist at All Saints Chapel spoke to me through his music. At times, I wanted to cry, and at times, I wanted to laugh. I experienced several goose-bump moments. However, his rendition of “Eventide” most impacted me. This tune was familiar to me as the hymn, “Abide with Me,” written by Henry Francis Lyte, a poet who asked God to stay with him through the joys and sorrows of his life.

What a great reminder that there is a time for all seasons.

Ask God to abide with you as you experience your ebbs and flows. 

“I think you’re addicted to worrying,” my husband Nick stated plainly one evening after I unleashed a verbal torrent of all the worst-case scenarios running on repeat in my head.

As I reflected on his words, I came to a disturbing conclusion: he was right. From health and finances to relationships and work performance, I tended to worry about anything and everything. Desperate to change, I eagerly sought Scripture that focused on worrying.

In Philippians, Paul encourages us not to worry about anything but to present our requests to God through prayer. Reading these words, I recognized that prayer could effectively solve my addiction to worrying. Instead of worrying about anything and everything, I thought, I could initiate the habit of praying about anything and everything.

Every time a worry or fear clouded my mind, I lifted it to God in prayer. When anxiety surrounding my mom’s upcoming surgery flooded my conscience, I transformed the worry into prayer: “Thank You, God, for taking care of my mom during her procedure and for directing the surgeon’s hands.”

When anxiety about covering the cost of an unexpected veterinary bill surfaced, I traded the anxiety for prayer: “Thank You, God, that You are my provider and will meet all my needs as I trust in You.”

As I increasingly exchanged my worrying for praying, I enjoyed peace in my heart. I also remembered to harbor a heart of gratitude toward God in my prayers. Deliberately choosing thankfulness helped me remember all the times God had been faithful before, strengthening and reinforcing my faith.

Do I still battle anxious thoughts? Absolutely. But I know that as I work daily to exchange my worries for prayers and practice thankfulness in all things, I entrust my anxieties and concerns to God. In exchange, He gifts me a peace that transcends all understanding. Hopefully, in time, Nick will notice that what was once an addiction to worrying has transformed into an addiction to prayer.

Think of ways you can exchange worrying for praying. 

It was a cold, sunny day in November. My son and I stood in the doorway, looking at our front yard. The grass was brown and dead from the recent frost we had received, but the sky was blue with only a few clouds, and the sun shone brightly. Although the ground looked dull and lifeless, the sky looked bright and hopeful.

Our glass door separated us from the cold, but we could still feel the warmth of the sun. My son commented that the sun’s warmth through the window was his favorite thing about winter. Even though it was cold outside, we could still feel the warmth of the sun through the glass. 

As Christians, we are to be the warmth and light of the world. When we accept salvation from Jesus Christ, He puts His light inside us. We then become a light to those around us. We shine brightly for Jesus by speaking with love and being kind and encouraging to others. 

In our world, we encounter cruelty, hate, and cold-hearted people. Many deal with darkness. Life has taken more from them than it has given. As a result, they are hurt and bitter and project what they feel onto others.

Others need love and light. They need to see the light of Jesus in us. Just as darkness can be seen in the world, so can light. It’s always a pleasant experience to encounter a person with a smile on their face and a kind word on their lips.

Let’s be the light Jesus wants us to be. When you encounter people, smile and speak a kind word. If you can help them, do so. Make a point to leave some of Christ’s joy with them. You may be the only glimpse of Jesus they see. 

My yearbook photo bears the caption, It’s my life!

I must have said that often because everyone’s photo had some tagline describing each of us. Looking back, I shudder at the arrogant, headstrong young woman I was. I did not know the depth of my ignorance then. No, I held high my diploma, which said I was ready to take on the world. I gazed out the window from my sixth-floor dormitory and admired the city below—its lights sparkling in the night.

We meet Eve in Genesis 3:6. In her mind, she was like me, queen of all she surveyed. A tree full of good food and more wisdom. With more knowledge, what could she not accomplish? Arrogant, headstrong, and prideful—like someone I know all too well. 

When I read the Bible, I sometimes wonder how people could have been so stupid. Yet in the next moment, I realize I’m no different. My foolishness just wears another garb, but pride, with its self-will, lies behind the same sin Eve committed.

I may think I’m doing God’s work, but is it His will or my idea I dressed up as His? Am I puffed up, seeking to outperform myself or to do the task He set before me as best as possible?

That fruit from the Tree of Life comes in several varieties, but lurking in each is the sin of pride. I must learn to stop before I act and pray that I am doing God’s will, not mine disguised as His.

Ask God to shine His Spirit on you so you can discern His will above yours. Make sure your thoughts, words, and deeds proceed from your character alone.

(Photo courtesy of pixabay and fotografierende.)