The Miracle of the Sunrise

Today I got up early, and sat before my open bedroom window and watched the sun rise up above the hills and trees. Its light was softly glowing, long before it actually could be seen, and then suddenly, it burst forth upon the mountain tops, down into the valleys and into my window to shine across the room in such a radiant way that one could not help but feel the warmth shine right into the deepest parts of the heart.

It reminded me of another kind of sunrise: the sunrise that broke through one of the darkest and deepest of moments of my life. The sunrise that came slowly at first, so much slow that I could hardly dare to hope it would ever really come, and then, as if in time with a great unknown orchestra, it broke forth, sending it's bright and warming rays to the farthest corners of my heart. It did not take all the pain away, no, for pain is not a part of darkness, but the darkness, the deep black that blinded my eyes from seeing beyond the moment, was gone, and as I sat, quietly thinking of the road that I had travelled in the dark, I realized that it is true. Had it not been for the darkness, I could never have rejoiced as I do now in the breaking forth of the sunrise. Had there not been moments when by faith, I held on to what I knew was there but could not see, the sunrise would be but common place and ordinary. It was then that I realized that “We can only appreciate the miracle of a sunrise if we have waited in the darkness” (Unknown)

God has promised that every dark night has an end. There will be a sunrise, a glorious, beautiful sunrise someday. It might seem like the night will never end. Perhaps you'll only see the glorious dawning in the place where He makes all things beautiful, all wrongs right, but the morning will come. The darkest is before the dawn. Just hold on a little longer, because the morning is coming, and the sunrise will be worth it all.

- by Chantel Harding

Happily Ever After

I originally sat down to write about my Love Story, my Once Upon a Time, my Prince in Shining Armor, or you could say my Happily Ever After, but then as many times before I was convicted. Something that I never actually choose to feel: conviction. Isn’t it funny how the things we need in life-like conviction-are hardly ever the things we actually want? But thank the Lord that He is just and gives us the things of life that we sometimes don’t particularly desire.

As I was thinking about my husband (how we met, how our courtship began, his proposal, our engagement, and the big day), the realization hit me that as wonderful as my husband is, this was not his doing. He did not bring us together, but my first Love did. Before you go thinking that this was my crush back in junior high, let me clarify. By first Love, I mean the creator of love, and every other emotion, the creator of you and me, the seasons, the snow outside, the whole entire universe.

I am just like any other girl, and I love happy endings, and hand me a chick flick anytime, but the realization hits me that this is not what true love is about. It is not when the boy meets girl, and their eyes lock and it is love at first sight. It is not the Happily Ever After, and no, it is not roses and chocolate on Valentines.

Love is a bloodstained cross. Love came in the form of a little baby in a manger that grew up to take on everyone’s sin on Calvary. Christ’ pierced hands and side are proof of this. He took on my every lustful thought, my snide remarks, my self-centeredness, my depression, and the list goes on for eternity more (and that is just for little ole me.) It is hard to comprehend that the creator of the universe gave the ultimate sacrifice and that He would give His love so freely to us. The crown of thorns that dug into His flesh does not create the type of love story that we like to think of today.

I am not saying that when God brings you to the right person at the right time that it is not love. It indeed is. Just remember that when that happens, the man He brings into your life is as human as you are. We should not make finding the right man our reason in life, and trust me I am guilty of this myself. I have to stop myself from making an idol of my dear husband, that sounds quite strange, but it is true. It is sin to praise the creation and not the creator.

God will write your love story in His own time and way, just never forget that He is the maker of love, and He loves you more than any man ever could. He has the best in mind for you because you are His daughter. I challenge you to put your faith in Him and not the “Happily Ever After’s,” as I have done before.

- by Christine HalePhoto (c) 2005 Natalie Nyquist

Sanctify Me

Today and yesterday I realized how truly blessed I am. I have so much to thank Him for. I have a job teaching children, which I love. I have a place to live. I have people I love and who love me. God has always taken care of my every need.

I also realized, however, how I wasted much time last year not realizing this. Or if I realized it (understood the blessings), I didn’t really take the time to thank God for them. So many times I was busy thinking about the problem at hand, looking at what I desired but didn’t have, or envying other’s lives. I believe (and this is difficult to say) I may have hindered whatever plans God had for me because of my inability to go through the testing time with joy and not being thankful for what He’s given me. I wasn’t as quick to grasp the lessons God wanted me to learn in order to move on with my life and grow more in Him.

Joshua 3:5 says to “Sanctify yourselves: for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.” There were things I needed to “sanctify” myself in. I needed more joy in my life, I needed more concern for others, and I needed to learn how to better trust Him.

In order to do so, God had specific tests designed to bring me to a level of consecration in these areas. Yet, during those specific tests I failed to view them as such. To me (at the time) they were more hardships I did not want to bear. They were taking me farther from my dreams and hopes. So, I resisted those tests and the lessons they brought. I cried out to God for deliverance, begged for a breakthrough, and even fasted so as to entreat Him to move. He was moving. I just needed to sanctify myself to be ready for it. I did learn these valuable lessons, but 2007 would’ve been so much better if I’d learned them early on.

Yet in His love, did God stop blessing me in 2007? No, he was faithful even if I wasn’t.

Was I just a horrible, unthankful, faithless person in 2007? No, I did thank God for every time he worked out a situation.

I did seek him and love him in spite of it all. But I think He would’ve gotten more glory and I would feel more victorious if during the testing times I would’ve quickly given the battle to Him and rejoiced in knowing that He was in control. I wish I had realized, as my pastor so often said, that this was the “proving ground” or “boot camp” to get me ready for great things to come.

This year I mean to embrace the Scripture found in Ruth 3:18, “Sit still, my daughter, until thou knowest how the matter will fall.”

Sit still in your actions. Don’t try to run and see if something else will work. Don’t resist the tests.

Sit still in your thoughts. Don’t reason it out, figure it out, or try to plan it out. Just rest in God because He is the master of it all.

Look for joy and cheer each day you wake up. Realize each test and trial is bringing you closer to how He wants you to be and is part of His plan (His beautiful plan) for your life. “Truly, truly God is good to Israel” (Psalm 73:1).

- by Lisa Marie Jennings

Job 20-22: Become one with Him

Being at peace with the All-Sufficient One means that I have shalom: peace, wholeness, completeness. Becoming one with Him begins by getting acquainted with Him. How? By listening to and internalizing His laws for living, returning to Him when I get off track, and giving Him my treasures so He can be my Treasure. When I am one with Him, what then? Effective prayers, victory where I once fell down, and joy in His presence.

Doorsteps

I believe in doorsteps.

Some of you might already know what I mean by that, particularly those who were there when it was coined. I'm afraid I can't take credit for the saying and I can't remember who was the first to start saying it, but among a small group of single girls that phrase is significant.

I believe in doorsteps. I believe that God can create miracles in a place that is barren. I believe that God is powerful and if it is His will, the right man could show up on my doorstep.

So many times I have heard people admonishing singles to get out! Get looking! Stop sitting around and waiting! And I agree, to an extent.

We shouldn’t just sit around, twiddling our thumbs. We should do what we can with what we have, where we are, whether it be folding laundry and helping out at home, working in an office, or going to school. Neither should we turn up our noses at opportunities to make friends with guys or avoid social events where young men might be. However, to be quite honest, I have to say that I believe it to be a rare few girls who actually do that.

Some of us are living in places where there are no eligible young men. Maybe all the good ones are taken. Maybe none share the same convictions as we do. Maybe none are old enough or ready for marriage. And maybe some are just not paying attention to all the young women who are waiting to be asked.

It's hard during a dry period, where you feel hemmed in and without hope on the horizon. It's hard to hear people tell you that if you just did A, B, and/or C, you'll meet a guy, because that doesn't always happen and sometimes A, B, and C aren't possible. It's hard to hang onto hope.
And that's where believing in doorsteps comes in.

Believing in doorsteps means opening the door – to hope. God is a God of hope and miracles and He would never have us lose hope. He would never have us doubt His abilities, never believe that anything is too impossible for Him. Even granting a single girl a husband, when she has been waiting so long.

I don’t expect my Dym – as I have begun to call that man who I have yet to meet, but hope to marry someday – to necessarily show up on my doorstep. I don’t expect a husband to fall into my living room while I wait in my own little corner.

I live life. I work. I laugh. I dance. I sing. I live. I don’t pin my hopes on every man that crosses my path because…I believe in doorsteps. I believe that God is in control and He knows which man may be my Dym. I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to wait twiddling my thumbs or go out on an epic mission searching for a man. God has the master plan and that’s enough for me.

And so, I hope. I hope, I live, I work, I pray, I wait…and believe in doorsteps.

- by Krista Skinner
from the IDD Blog

You Were There

I have been reviewing life, the past few years of my life, and tracing God's faithfulness to me at every step of the way. Truly, all that I am, all that I have, all that I hope to be I owe to His faithfulness to me in the past, and in the face of uncertain days, I rest my heart on the promise of His faithfulness in the future.

In my reviewing of these past years, I came across a poem I wrote during one of the most painful times of my life. It isn't good poetry, but it was written after a moment when I caught a glimpse of His goodness in a very special way, and the realization of His faithfulness, the realization that He is always with me, meant much to my heart right then.

It's taking time to go back and view our ebenezers, to count our blessings and to see His faithfulness that gives us strength and courage. I want to share some of these ebenezers, share some of God's faithfulness with you, so that you, too, might take courage.

In the darkness of the night
I saw your hand.
In the midst of the storm
I heard your voice.
When I thought I was all alone,
You were there.

You knew the answers
To the questions in my heart.
You understood it all
When I had no words to explain.

In face of my pain
I saw your hand
In the middle of my sorrow
I heard your voice

I can trust you with my heart,
You understand every part
When I thought I was alone
You were there.

- by Chantel Harding

Job 17-19: Know Him

I can make a habit of knowing Him, to the extent that others will recognize my home as "the place of him that knows God." In the midst of trouble, I can hold my course, showing Him I want to know Him by keeping clean hands, no matter how hopeless, fruitless, or irksome it seems. Who is it I know? Him who lives, who will stand visibly on this earth, and who is on my side. He is not a stranger, but the One who knows me.

Letting Beauty Fade

Short, fat, tall, thin. I look in the mirror and a thousand voices echo in my head. This is too big, that’s not big enough. My inner critic is relentless and harsh. Images swirl through my mind’s eye. Bone-thin models and beautiful actresses and singers. Every one of them telling me the same thing. You don’t measure up.

Then the if onlys start in.
If only I was thinner.
If only I my hair had more body.
If only I was a little taller.
If only I was shorter.
If only I was more petite.
If only my teeth were whiter.
If only my eyelashes were thicker.
If only…if only…if only…if only…

Don’t you ever wish there was some kind of physical Christmas where we could get “presents” in the form of changes to our bodies? 5 pounds knocked off here…blonde hair or blue eyes thrown in over there. How about an amazing natural tan that never wore off in the winter? Maybe that’s what God will give me from my physical wish list next time around!

How God must sigh to hear his beloved children fret so. I sometimes wonder if He longs to break those mirrors and shred our silly fashion magazines. Trust Me! I can hear Him saying. I designed you in your mother’s womb…every pore of your being crafted according to my flawless blueprint. You are Mine and I love you. You are my child and you are beautiful.

And yet we listen to the carnal voices, and allow empty words to drown out this ageless love. In 1665, an English pamphlet recommended that women “bleed” themselves drastically (from their right arm in the spring and left arm in the autumn) to maintain slimness. So often my friends and I have gasped in shock over these and other weird horror stories. How could women wear corsets so tight they fainted? Or Chinese women up until the 1940’s bind their feet until they turned into tiny little hoofs, in accord with their culture’s definition of beauty? Who would do something so restricting and destructive to themselves?

And yet we are the same way. Are we blind to our own failings? When I think of the number of times I’ve skipped meals or stayed up late to work out, I see that I am no better. The question is –how can we be so afraid of ugliness that we would torture our bodies in order to match the latest societal norm? The mirror tells us one thing, our minds another, and the media gives us no rest.

These confining regulations are held to us by society. God’s Word contains none of this. Rather, He comforts us with the gentle reminder in Psalm 139, “…You knitted me together in my mother’s womb…I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…my frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.” And He lovingly rebukes our wrong focus by stating His true and timeless standard in Proverbs 31:30, “Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.”

Our Father knows our limitations. He understands that culture’s call to physical perfection is impossible. No one is “flawless.” Not the most beautiful model, not the most glamorous starlet. 95% of the pictures you see in those fashion catalogs and magazines have been edited and manipulated by a computer program. We all have insecurities and “defects.” No one is exempt.

But enough of the problems. You already know of them, because they exist inside all of us. What is the solution? What is the answer we so desperately need? I am reminded of the words of an old hymn.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

That, I think, is the answer. It is so simple and yet so powerful. We must get our eyes off of ourselves and onto Jesus Christ. The answer to contentment is not losing weight or finding the perfect make-up products or dressing just right. It is not heightened self-esteem or being around people who make you feel good about yourself.

You will find contentment when you focus on Jesus Christ and on Him alone.

This is a hard task. It is not something you will learn overnight. It is a journey; a long, long journey, and like your Christian walk, some days will be better than others. There will be high mountains on this pilgrimage…times when you are so close to God you can feel His breath on Your face…and then there will be valleys, dark places where you can neither see God nor feel His love. Those are the times when you will feel a loneliness inside of you, and a restlessness, a longing to taste the slop of the world and a derision towards the feast of heaven. Then you must walk by faith and not by sight, because your perspective is clouded. You must keep going and trust that soon you will come to the level places and to a richer understanding of Him. You must keep placing one foot in front of the other, knowing that soon, you will return to your sweet walk with your Savior.

Like Peter, you must keep your eyes on Jesus. When you stop focusing on the Lord, the turbulent waves of this world will threaten to pull you under. But fix your gaze on Him and you will walk above those waves in a way that the unsaved world cannot fathom.

Don’t compare yourself to the faces and bodies held up to you as ideal. Be the beautiful child of God that He has made you to be, by comparing your heart to His. Don’t give credence to those feelings of jealousy. And don’t entertain “if onlys”! Send them out the door without a by-your-leave! God made you exactly as He wanted to, and He loves you. What more can you ask for? The fleeting admiration of fickle man? That is nothing compared to the supremacy of Christ’s love, the constancy of His friendship, and the richness of His affection.

Look ahead. Look beyond the passing present. Charm is deceitful…beauty is vain. The appearance of the most gorgeous woman will deteriorate. But a heart devoted to God has a lasting legacy.

There is nothing wrong with beauty. God created it, and He created us to appreciate it. But there is everything wrong with dwelling on beauty, idolizing beauty, and valuing external beauty above all else.

Look to Jesus. Allow Him to calm the storms of your heart, and keep your eyes on Him. Everything else will fade in that light.

Keely B. is a 16 year-old California country girl. She loves Jesus, her friends and her big family of nine. Besides writing, Keely enjoys horseback riding, sports, reading, playing the fiddle and listening to country music. She is the editor of Apples of Gold E-Magazine and also runs Sisters Keepers, a brand new blog for Christian girls.

Your mercies are new every morning

It is a new day, and a glorious one at that. The sun is shining brightly from a soft blue sky. Yesterday, with all it's joys and sorrows, has faded away. Today is as an unopened gift, an unwritten page. What will we make of it?

It is easy to look back at Yesterday, see the pain, the heartache, and fears we faced, and pull some of those into our New Day. It is easy to look forward to Tomorrow, and worry for what we don't know. It is so easy to carry from Yesterday it's pain, and borrow from Tomorrow it's unknown trouble. It is easy to destroy the joy of Today, but we don't have to do it.

Yesterday is over. It's sorrows are a thing of the past, and as far as possible, let's leave them there, for we cannot change those things now. We cannot truly know what Tomorrow may bring, whether joy or sorrow. Worry is blind. It has no discernment.

Our life, Our today, is mostly what we choose to make it, and what we choose to see. True, there will be pain and heartache in life, and some of that may be a part of today. We can't avoid these things, but we can make the best of

Today alone is ours. Yesterday is History's. Tomorrow is in Christ's hand.

Today, decide you will be happy, no matter the storm.

Today, find beauty and joy in the song of a bird, the face of a flower, the smile of a child.

Today, share the Love He gave you with someone else. It will come back to you.

Today, make the best out of the worst. You'll find it wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it was, looking back.

Today, lean on Him. He will guide you.

Today, rejoice in His blessings, no matter how very small they seem.

Today, look for beauty and joy, and you will find them both all around you.

Leave Yesterday as Yesterday. Let Tomorrow worry for it's self, but Today-- decide that it will be the most beautiful ever, and strive to make it that way.

- by Chantel Harding

Job 12-16: Wait for Him

Though He slay me, yet I can trustfully wait for Him. Though He slay my pride, my freedom, provison, fruit, hope...yet I can continue walking in His ways. Why? Because Resurrection is on His way. Like a felled tree that revives at the scent of water, we will revive at the arrival of Living Water. And while I wait for that final resurrection day, He performs lesser resurrections daily. His mercies are new every morning!

Abide With Me

Life has not ceased to bring its share of busy times, of worry, uncertainty for the future, nor to be filled with the little blessings, the glimpses of His love and care.

Just the other evening, as I sat at the piano, playing and singing the different songs that came to mind, this song came to my heart, and the words struck a chord within me, and my heart echoed the prayer of this song, "O LORD, abide with me!"

I want to always keep this foremost in my mind- when the day gets busy, when I am working, when my heart is tempted to feel anxious- the prayer and the desire for Him to abide with me, for me to sense His presence in a real and living way. It is hard to worry, hard to doubt when we feel that He is truly with us.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.
I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Ashleigh: The Wife of a Deployed Soldier

Ashleigh wrote a sweet post over at Rocks In My Dryer I wanted to point you all to: What I'd Like for You to Know

Be Still

It had been "one of those" mornings.

It was the middle of December--Christmastime. Things were crazy. Everything from the past two months seemed to have hit me that day--my newborn, my husband's surgery, a trip to Colorado, Christmas preparations, and a deployment date looming in the near future. This particular day was filled with a million little things, and I felt I was hanging by a thread.

In the late afternoon, I finally managed to find a moment to take a shower. I thought if I could just take a quick hot shower, it would wash away the craziness of the day and all would be fine. An hour passed, and between several phone calls and door-bell rings, I still wasn't in the shower.
A harried mess. That's what I was. I sat Troy down in my bedroom with a stack of books and a couple toys, put 6-week-old Merritt in his bouncy seat, and hopped in the shower.

But, unlike my expectations, the stress didn't wash away with the water. I could only feel the tension in my heart building as I ran my long to-do list through my head. I could hear the ringing of the phone--again. The baby was beginning to get fussy and Troy was tired of looking at books. It had been all of two minutes.

I pushed my hair under the stream of water, letting it rinse the shampoo out of my hair. As I wiped the water beads out of my eyes, I heard it.

Be still.

Gently the words came. I pushed them out of my head, trying to focus on the days, weeks ahead of me. There was so much to think about, plan for, keep straight in my head. How desperately I wished time could stop and give me a week to catch up. It was all just so much and I...

Be still.

So softly, that Voice spoke directly to my heart.

Lord, don't be ridiculous. Be still? Now? Not happening.

I heard the baby crying with all his might. Hurry. Rinse out the conditioner. This shower had taken long enough. Next on the list? Get dinner started and then I'd have to hurry...

Be still. Quiet your heart. Know I am God.

I sighed aloud. Okay, Lord. Okay. Quiet my heart. I've made a note of it and I'll be sure to do that. Maybe once the kids are in bed. Or something.

That still, small voice is persistent. Our little back-and-forth continued as I finished up my shower and went about getting ready.

Be still, and know that I am God.

Lord, my heart replied. I already do know you are God. Of course I do.

Be still, and know that I am God. Quiet your heart before me.

~*~
This evening, things were completely chaotic in our house. What was really only about thirty minutes felt like days.

We were on our way to our church's annual mission's dinner. I had made food, was scheduled to work in the nursery for the service after the dinner, and was hoping to catch some of the amazing man, Don Sisk's, preaching through the television screen in the nursery.

But my reality at that moment wasn't so rosy. Both boys were crying. This was not just fussiness or whimpering. Troy was sobbing as if his life was ending. Merritt was screaming with everything in him.

I was beside myself.

I hurried them both along. I tossed brownies on a plate. I ran in my heels to fill diaper bags. I replaced the binky. I consoled. I held. I got impatient and spoke too harshly. I walked into the kitchen, away from the boys and let out a long at-my-wit's-end-again groan. I put the baby in his carseat, directed Troy to the door, slung my purse and the diaper bag over a shoulder and picked up my plate of brownies, nearly forgetting to grab my Bible with that extra hand I don't have.

And then I heard it in my heart, always so soft and gentle.

Be still.

I was frustrated. Lord, this is NOT the time. I don't have a second for stillness right now. This is crazy. I feel like I'm falling apart. I don't even know what I was thinking in imagining I could go to this dinner on my own with the boys.

I locked the front door.

Be still, and know that I am God.

Lord, please, please... what are you trying to tell me? I DO know You are God. You know I can't be still right now. I don't understand.

My Jesus is so loving. You know I'm God? Do you really know I'm God? If you know I'm God, you know I'm capable of handling all of this. You know this moment would be better if you placed it in my hands. You know I will fill you with My perfect strength in this moment of weakness. Quiet your heart before Me. Be still, and know that I am God.

I was stopped at a red light. I closed my eyes. This wasn't a mere suggestion. It was a command.

Be still. Know I am God.

The boys were still crying. I told myself to never again try to pack so much in one long day.

I don't feel it, Lord. I don't feel quiet or still. But I do want to truly know you are God. Please let me see You in this moment, Jesus.

Are you weary tonight? I am. Are you frazzled or is your heart troubled? To say that there is ever time for real stillness in the life of a woman is nearly laughable.

And yet, He whispers...

Be still.

Know that I am God.

Until we're still... until our hearts are quieted before Him... until we stop waiting for things to slow down before really looking into His face... until we obey His command to be still, even when there is no stillness in sight, we can never expect to fully know He is God.

Be still.

- by Ashleigh Baker

Summer Days and Living Wisely

Clouds float by like mountains of cotton in a deep blue sky. Summer days stretch out, long and inviting and yet to be lived. An easy schedule of part time work means plenty of free time. Time to sip coffee or cold drinks and lounge on the garden swing. Long walks, days at the beach. Lying in the sun with a stack of old magazines and easy reads. Leisure, ease, relaxation. Ah, the life…

But wait. Should this really be a complete picture of my summer? Do I want to look back once it’s over and think about all of the things I might have accomplished of more eternal significance?

Not to say that any of the activities I described are somehow wrong, but too much of them can be, especially if they take the place of more important things.

In thinking about how I want to make good use of this summer, Ephesians chapter five verses fifteen and sixteen gives wise counsel: Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil.

Moses prays, in Psalm 90:12, “So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom”.

Living more purposefully, while realizing the brevity of life, is a worthy goal.

The details of what this includes could be different for each of us, of course, as our lives and callings are unique.

Most importantly, we are all called to pursue a closer relationship with God and mine the treasures of His word. It’s often through these practices that our hearts are opened to the individual things that God would have us do. That’s number one on my priority list this summer – to get to know the Lord better. To be a student of His word. To make time for prayer and Bible study.

Other goals on my list center on relationships – making time to nurture friendships, old and new. Spending time with family. Looking for ways to deny self and serve others.

So that’s my goal this summer – the purposeful pursuit of living my days in a God honouring fashion. Of course, perfect plan plus absolute sinner is sure to equal failure some of the time, but that’s okay. By God’s grace, I can get up after a fall and keep going!

- by Stephanie Andrews
Artwork by William Bouguereau

Lessons from the Israelites

Paul, in 1 Corinthians chapter 10, instructs believers to avoid Israel’s mistakes. Here’s one of the mistakes:

“Nor grumble, as some of them did, and were destroyed by the destroyer. Now these things happened to them as an example, and they were written for our instruction…”

Amazing, isn’t it, how words written thousands of years ago can come alive and speak to our hearts as if they were penned personally for our present day circumstances. They were, according to the above verse - “Written for our instruction…” That’s the power of God’s word!

“For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (Hebrews 4:12)

Continuing in the book of Numbers this evening, I read one account of the Israelite’s grumbling. They wanted meat. “…Oh that someone would give us meat to eat! For we were well-off in Egypt…” (11:18) Well off? They were in slavery! Sounds like they were looking at things from slightly the wrong perspective. God decided to give them what they asked for though…

“You shall eat, not one day, nor two days, nor five days, nor ten days, nor twenty days, but a whole month, until it comes out of your nostrils and becomes loathsome to you; because you have rejected the Lord who is among you and have wept before Him, saying, “Why did we ever leave Egypt?”

Wow. I guess they got their meat. Did it satisfy them? Is meat really the key issue here? Was lack of prime cuisine really the problem? Obviously not. The above verse shows us that it was a heart issue. They were really rejecting the Lord. He had freed them from slavery. He was leading them to Canaan, the Promised Land. Could they not endure a little bit of hardship? In bitterly complaining, they weren’t only rejecting the circumstances they were in, they were rejecting the Lord Himself who in His sovereignty was allowing these circumstances.

The Lord has freed me from slavery as well. Jesus Christ has taken the punishment I deserve in His dying on the cross. He has freed me from the power of sin. And He’s leading me also to a Promised Land – Heaven. I don’t deserve this amazing gift!

And so…can I also not endure a few hardships in this life? When put in this light, I’m ashamed at my grumblings before the Lord. I can get so caught up in what I don’t have, rather then what I do. I can be so resistant to certain circumstances that the Lord has allowed into my life right now, unwilling to joyfully accept them, to be content. Someday, everything will be clear. We’ll understand…and I look forward to that! Until then, I want to trust Him. Not reject Him.

- by Stephanie Andrews

Embrace the Cross

Our five year old son, Ezra is into making crosses this year. Paper and glue, sticks and twine, scraps of boards and nails; he uses whatever materials are at hand at the moment. I admire his creativity, and sometimes I am even called upon to help him get a nail started in just the right place. The other day, he was wanting Ben to help him pound a couple of nails into my bedroom wall in order to hang one of his crosses there for me.

I knew the question was coming.

"Do you like it, Mama?"

Of course I assured him that I like it very much. Truly, nothing delights my mother-heart more than seeing the little seedlings of faith take root and flourish in my children. Ezra knows that the crosses in our home are here to remind us about Jesus.

I haven’t yet tried to explain to Ezra the call to "Take up your cross and follow." Not in so many words. Little boys can get some mighty quirky, albeit amusing, ideas when you try to explain theology to them. But in small ways, we have begun to pave the way for him to understand. We have impressed on our boys the all importance of obedience; both to us, their parents, and to God’s Word. Little things—"Don’t fuss about being uncomfortable;" "Don’t cry if you get shampoo in your eyes;" "Eat the food on your plate without complaint;" "Drop whatever you are doing and come when I call"—are laying the foundation for obedience to that higher call of their King: "If any man would come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me." Someday, they will understand.

I can’t tell you how many times, when commanding my little boys to do a thing without complaint, I have been uncomfortably convicted that my attitude was not any better than theirs. I can tell you that, on occasion, when I was fuming about something, one or the other of them has asked me, "Mama, what you’re fussing ‘bout?" And I knew I was guilty as charged. Children don’t let you get away with anything!

When Ezra was wanting to hang his cross on our bedroom wall, I was lying in bed. Although I had sense enough not to say so, my initial reaction to his gift was, "Do I have to have that here, now?" In all honesty, it is not a pretty cross. It is less than rustic. It is rough with splinters and grimy with dirt. But I knew better than to hurt Ezra’s feelings. At the same time, I had to acknowledge to myself that this grudging, "Must I?" was exactly my reaction to the circumstances keeping me abed.

You see, I am one who loves to be working, to always be doing. If I happen to not feel real great, I usually just keep on anyway. I see no sense in taking a nap when I have things to do; no sense in being wimpy if I can keep going. Every few years, to remind me that I am finite, God lets me get sick: really sick. Sick enough that I spend days, weeks, months, in bed, not doing much of anything. This was one of those times.

For one who likes to always be "doing," this is tough. Tasks so simple that I don’t normally consider the amount of energy that I expend in the dong of them: sweeping the floor, brushing my teeth, milking the cow, getting out of bed, reading stories to my children, thinking, keeping meals on the table, keeping food in my stomach, going for a walk, taking a shower: suddenly seem monstrously impossible. All of the things I would like to do—the books I want to write, the horses I want to break, the sewing projects I planned to complete—lie undone, completely out of reach of my non-existent energy. I am tempted to complain about my cross: "Not here, Lord, not now..."

This time, my illness carries enough dread over the outcome to halt an elephant in his tracks. It carries enough potential for sorrow and suffering that it is nearly as difficult for me to contemplate as it is for me to get my body out of bed. It is a daily battle to survive; it is a daily battle to trust.

In the fight for survival, I tell myself each day: "Only one thing." I try to avoid multi-tasking if at all possible. One load of laundry. One batch of cookies. One kettle of soup. I can usually stretch my small bit of strength far enough to get one thing done, but if I let myself start a lot of things, I will probably end up leaving a lot of things unfinished.

In the battle to trust, I have also set myself a single, simple goal. To every day acknowledge to my Father, "O Lord, Thou knowest." It is not so much the fear of pain that weakens me, but the unknown interval of waiting lying between the present; when I do not know what will come; and the future; when what He knows will come to pass; that drags me down. This one small statement is for me an act of placing all my fears, all my rebelliousness, all my impatience, all my weakness, all my hopes, all my plans, all my future, in His hands. In this I find the peace I need to face the unknown. It may not stop my stomach’s churning, but it stills my restlessness and quiets my heart. And, for now, that is enough. This, too, shall pass.

If He gives me the piercing cup of pain, He will also give me grace to drink it to the bitter depths. If He gives instead a cup of joy, I want no aftertaste of useless fretting to spoil the sweetness of His mercy. So I lie in bed, and sometimes I look up at Ezra’s cross. No, it is not what I would have chosen, neither the decor nor being bedridden. But it is where God has put me right now, the circumstances He has placed upon me. Just as it was my duty as a mother to gladly accept my son’s gift, so it is my duty to embrace this cross. Wholeheartedly.

Hold us in stillness through the age-long minute
While Thou art silent, and the winds are shrill.
Can the boat sink, while Thou, dear Lord, art in it?
Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?
Amy Carmichael

- by Ruth Weichmann

Into My Heart

I help teach in the AWANA club at my little country church. [For those of you who aren’t familiar with the program, it’s a club to help children memorize Bible verses.] Each Wednesday evening I have the privilege of listening to kids from the ages of six to twelve recite the verses they have learned in the previous week. The different personalities and abilities are fascinating (and sometimes challenging!), and it’s such a joy to see these precious kids hiding God’s Word in their hearts.

Some of the children are from Christian homes, and their parents help them learn verses. These kids generally have at least some understanding of the meaning of what they are learning. But many of the children are not so blessed. Probably half (if not more) of these kids are not exposed to Christianity anywhere besides AWANAs. Many are from broken homes – most have never heard the plan of salvation explained. It’s hard for me to comprehend the utter lack of a foundation of truth in their hearts. And it’s hard to explain the meaning of the verses they are learning when there’s no context for them to put it in.

One girl defined sin for me: “It’s doing things like hanging up the phone on people.” A boy told me his dad was a great example of a sinner since “he bought a new 4-wheeler when my mom didn’t want him to.” Imagine, then, trying to explain concepts like justification and atonement!

Several of us leaders were becoming frustrated, and we decided to show the children’s version of The Jesus Film (highly recommended!). We wanted them to have a clear understanding of Jesus’ life and death, and especially to understand the meaning of Easter. Again, to my amazement, some of these children had never heard the story of Jesus’ death on the cross!

We showed the film in two parts. The first night all the kids were completely absorbed in the film. The sanctuary was perfectly silent. The children watched in wonder as Jesus fed the five thousand, raised Jarius’ daughter, and calmed the sea.

They came back this week ready to see more of the story about this wonderful Man. But soon it became apparent that this part would be quite different. The children cringed as Jesus was whipped, mocked, and forced to carry His cross. Some hid their eyes as nails were driven into His hands and the cross was raised. And when Jesus gasped, “Into thy hands I commit my spirit,” six year old Ryan cried and asked, “Did He die?”

At the end of the film, two of the child-actors made an appeal for viewers to trust Jesus as their Savior. As they prayed the sinner’s prayer, Ryan prayed along. He came to me a few minutes later, eyes sparkling – “I have Jesus in my heart now!”

Ryan has a tough road ahead of him. His parents are divorced – his mom is in jail – and he lives with his grandparents, who aren’t Christians as far as I know. He doesn’t go to church or Sunday school. He’s only six years old, so he can’t read the Bible on his own. But there’s AWANAs. And every Wednesday we’ll be there, trying to help and encourage him. Knowing Ryan’s story makes it worth every hectic minute.

- by Jeannie Castleberry
March 7, 2008

Love

Love is suffers long. Love is Kind. Love doesn't envy, Love doesn't seek to advance itself, it is not proud. It does not react in a wrong way to any situation, Love doesn't seek it's own good. Love is not provoked easily, and does not assume evil of another. Love doesn't rejoice when another falls into sin, but Love rejoices in what is true. Love bears all things- even when it's not fair. Love believes the best. Love hopes- always hopes. Love endures all things. Love, true love, does not fail, in spite of all of this.

Love is a gift of God. True love is not something we find in ourselves, and without Him, we are completely void of love that will endure the most severe trials.

It is not hard to love someone who loves us, but when we face total rejection, when we have been wounded, to love the one who broke us is a task that we cannot handle, but God give us the strength, the grace and the gift of True Love in our hearts.

True love. It's a perfect picture of who God is, and what He desires us to be. It's one of the hardest things we will ever meet- to have and to live this true love, because it's deeply painful. It asks us to die- and that is hard.. so very hard. But to have this Love, is to have something that's worth the pain... any pain, that it might cost us.

Lord... let me die, so you can live. Let me suffer any pain, only let my life be a reflection... of your love.

- by Chantel Harding

Lonely Voices

It was another lonely voice. Another heart aching for some one to listen, someone to laugh with them, someone who seemed to care.

She started by asking some questions about what to do about price adjustments, and then from there told me of her family, and her hopes for this year's refund and what she was going to give to her daughters for a gift. Then, after nearly 20 minutes, she thanked me for listening, and was gone. I wanted to cry. I wished I could have reached through the phone and given her a hug. Spent some real, quality time with her, help her to know that there are still people who care.

She was alone. Her past filled with some of the most deep and searing heartaches, her joy marred by people who seemed to delight in destroying any little bit of joy she found in life. I was only checking the availability of a product in a store close to her, and as one little thing led to another, she began to unburden her heart, and pour out a testimony of brokenness-- and of the ties of love to the One who had never failed her. When she found that I too, believed in a God who is mighty to save, she told of her past life of pain, and how God brought beauty from the ashes, joy... small as it might have seemed to some, from the pain of the past. When at last the call came to a close, she thanked me for blessing her, and wondered if I might be an Angel. No... not an angel, just another pilgrim on the journey, I assured her, and truly... I feel as if i was the one who was blessed the most by that opportunity. Who would have thought that working for Toys R Us as a Customer Service Agent would bring moments such as these, to share a little of God's love with those who's hearts are weary?

This world is so rushed, so very impersonal sometimes. We brush by people, hurry on by, so busy with living that we forget about life. We forget about others, and that there are people who spend each day waiting for someone who will never come, waiting for words that will give them courage to face another day, dying inside for want of something as small as a smile, a kind word, a squeeze of the hand, or someone to listen, so that they know they're not alone in this world and that their life is worth something...that people still do care.

Lonely voices. I hear them so often through out the day. Lonely faces. Everywhere I go, looking so empty, so alone and it breaks my heart. Lonely voices, lonely, broken people... I see them all around me, and they cry out to me. I often wish I could do something...something to cheer those lonely, longing, wistful voices and faces for just a moment. I wish I could somehow make a difference in their lives, and share the joy of living with them. Yet, my moments are so brief. My opportunities to make a difference so very short, and so many of these lonely people go on by, and I never have the chance to make that difference that I long to make, and it hurts inside, while the words to a song that often made me cry as a child echo through my mind, and I pray that He who longs to heal our sorrow will be a friend to them.

Though in the few moments I may have on the phone with a guest, or the few seconds of eye contact I may have with a sad faced stranger in the store, I wonder if I have made any difference at all in the long run, I cannot give up praying for those opportunities, nor doing what I can. I may never be able to make a difference in the lives of very many people, I am determined, by His grace, to make a difference in the lives of the few that God does place in my path- whether it be a lonely and hurting woman who calls Toys R Us for some random reason and ends up talking for 20 minutes, or a young child who can't figure out what is wrong with their beloved toy and believes with all their heart that the people on the phone will help them fix it, or the many people who walk by me on the few times every few months that I get in to town- people who may just need a smile. I am determined to do what I can. It may not be much, it may not go far, but what if it does?

God is looking for people who are willing to not look at what they can't do, not look at how little and insignificant their sphere of influence may be, but those who are willing to simply live for Him- to share the love He gives with all who we do meet. There is no limit to what God can do with the lives of those who do this. Let's purpose to live each day, focusing on what is important in His eyes.

- by Chantel Harding

Behold...

"'Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!'"
-John 1:20, NAS

"...knowing that you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold from your futile way of life inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ."

-1 Peter 1:18-19, NAS

photo by Jessica Glaser