Storing Bread for Future Famine

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ” – Matthew 4:4

[To those who have encouraged me to share on this subject, I apologize for taking so long.]

When I was a theater major, I may have lacked certain talents, but I had one thing going for me – the ability to memorize fairly easily. Not that it got me any major roles, but it did help when I had to perform scenes in acting classes.

It also helped when I first started being serious about studying the Bible. I had a stack of Bible memory cards with a verse of Scripture on one side and the reference (chapter and verse) on the other. I would study them as I did with flash cards, and I learned quite a few. But something frustrated me: I was spending more time memorizing numbers (chapters and verses) than the meaning of the words.

Meanwhile, I had been getting into conversations with groups whose interpretations of Scripture were vastly different from mine (Some would call them cults.), and I was tired of hearing isolated verses quoted out of context to “prove” something I considered unbiblical! So, after realizing that with my ability to memorize, memorize larger passages of the Bible was doable, I set out to do just that, so that when I heard those verses quoted out of context, I could be prepared to give an answer.

I started with memorizing some of the Psalms and chapters such as Isaiah 53 (My favorite chapter of the Old Testament) and Romans 8 (my favorite chapter of the New Testament). After that, I committed the Sermon on the Mount to memory.

One day I heard someone say something that was almost exactly like a line from one of the plays I had been involved in. Apparently, while working backstage, I had memorized much of that play, and I found myself running the whole scene in my head. It occurred to me that if I had become an actress, I’d be memorizing whole plays. – Why not whole books of Scripture?

I had been in a Bible study that was studying the book of James, a fairly short book (five chapters), and the introduction suggested that since it was so short one could read through it in one sitting, one could conceivably read through it every day and have it memorized by the time the study was over. I hadn’t done it at that time, but now as I set out to memorize books, I decided to start with James.

The first day I read through the whole five chapters to get an overview, then repeated the first couple of verses until I knew them by heart. The next day, I reviewed those two verses until I could recite them without hesitation. I went on to learn the next two or three verses. The third day I went over those, got them solidified, and added another two or three verses. By the end of the week, I had memorized Chapter 1. The next week I recited the chapter every day, and the following week I started learning Chapter 2. In this way, I spent about ten weeks committing to memory the book of James. I would recite verses silently as I waited in line at the grocery store and in bed at night until I fell asleep.

For several years, this was how I spent my Bible reading time. I went from James to the book of Philippians, then the book of I John, then figured I may as well add II John and II John, since those two books were so short they fit onto one page in my Bible. (I’m thinking it was probably ego that motivated me to get two more “books” under my belt, but the Lord is working on my motives and attitudes…)

I wanted to know Scriptures written by (through) different people with their unique perspectives, so after I had learned words by James, Paul, and John, I went on to I Peter.

During this season, as I focused on the words of Scripture, I pondered their meaning. If one verse seemed to change the subject from the verse before it, I would stop and ponder what their connection might be, why the writer would have gone from one statement or admonition to another. Often, I sensed the Spirit of the Lord giving me some insight, not only in what the words meant, but what they had to do with me and how I should apply them to my life.

At times my imagination would take off. When reading articles about a country where owning Bibles was illegal, I would often fanaticize about going there, taking only what was in my mind/heart. The authorities at the border could search me all they wanted but wouldn’t find any Bibles. But then I could go to gatherings of believers and share Scripture; all I’d need would be a translator. 😉

I spent several years on Scripture memory before setting it aside and beginning a new schedule of Bible reading. For the next few years, I read straight through the Bible, a little each day. When I came to a portion I had committed to memory and tried to recite them, I found I’d become a little rusty and would spend some extra days there, learning them over again. I have done this several times now with each passage or book, and each time I do, it takes a little less time to relearn them. Lately I’ve been making a point of seeing to it that I know these chapters and books like the back of my hand. I’d like to be able to say them in my sleep. If I ever get to that point, I may try to memorize more – as my aging brain will enable me!

But more important than being able to recite God’s Word, I want to make sure I’m living it! After all, there are atheists who can quote whole sections of the Bible, which they’ve memorized in order to mock them.

Recently David, a fellow blogger suggested the possibility that we might not always have the right to read, carry, or even own a Bible in America. That seems unlikely, but lately our freedoms have been eroded, and we should never take our blessings for granted. David suggested that we should be reading and studying our Bibles as though they were going to be burned next week. (Talk about a different perspective!)

P.S. Although I have gone over these passages dozens, maybe hundreds of times, I’m still finding I’m discovering something new each time I revisit them. Imagine that! It’s almost as though the Word of God is a living thing. 😉

“O. C. D.”? You Say That Like It’s a Bad Thing

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness … Galatians 5:22

Today marks (approximately) the twentieth anniversary of a “calling” I sensed, which resulted in a commitment I have kept meticulously every night, as though lives depended on it. Maybe they do …

On July 7, 2005, London was under attack by terrorists. Three bombs went off in the subway, and a fourth exploded on a double-decker bus. Dozens of people were killed and others injured. This attack was still on my mind, “for some reason,” as I sat on the beach July 20, watching my children playing in the waves of Lake Michigan.

As I prayed for the injured and the families who had lost loved ones, I felt frustrated and angry. Why were we always praying about these things after the fact? Wasn’t there some way we could pray to prevent them from happening in the first place?

My pastor had preached a message I have never forgotten, about making prayer specific. To pray some vague, general prayer such as “God bless America!” he said, was like randomly firing a shotgun and hoping to hit something. (How can you hit your target, when you don’t have one?) On the other hand, a specific prayer is more like a well-aimed rifle. It will hit its target more often – and we can then respond with specific thanks and praise! (And, knowing me, I would write a blog piece about it. 😉 ) An extremely specific, fervent prayer, the pastor said, is like a laser beam that can cut through steel!

That day I wanted to pray that kind of prayer, but how could I? No one knew specifically who the terrorists were, where they were, or what they had planned next.

So, how do I narrow down my prayer? I asked the Lord. Immediately the Still, Small Voice spoke to my heart (not audibly),

Pray against what they have planned for today.

So, for the next few minutes I prayed for those responsible that day for protecting people and tracking down the perpetrators, for those who were the targets of terrorism and even for the terrorists themselves. I prayed that the terrorists’ communications would fail, that their weapons would malfunction, and that their bombs would be “duds.” I prayed the terrorists would be caught, even that they would repent and be saved. It turned out I could pray a lot of specific things if I narrowed them down to just that day.

The following day, July 21, 2005 the news came that there had again been a series of bombing attacks on London, all of which failed. I was stunned, realizing that when we know next to nothing about our enemies, prayer is the most powerful weapon we have. I also realized that “that was yesterday,” and that I should pray again for “today.” And I have been meticulously (obsessively) praying that way ever since. The prayer has evolved to include children being indoctrinated in terrorist training camps and women who are would-be suicide bombers, who don’t know God loves them just as much as He does the men and doesn’t want them killing themselves, their children, or anyone else.

Have these prayers been answered over the past twenty years? I have a file folder full of articles – just the ones I’ve seen and saved – about thwarted terrorist attacks, some foiled by the authorities and some stopped by ordinary citizens who saw/heard people acting “suspicious.” Some failed because the explosives didn’t detonate, and some failed because the perpetrator had a change of heart. Those are my favorite stories – where a former would-be terrorist is now a child of God – an evangelist, a church planter, an igniter of revival!

Do I think I personally have stopped terrorists? No, or course not! … well, not exactly. I do believe in the power of prayer, otherwise I would not have prayed the same prayer over 7,000 times and would not be planning to continue. I do believe there’s power in consistent prayer and prayer by many people, and if an act of terror occurred because only 99 people prayed against it and 100 prayer warriors could have stopped it, I don’t want to be the weak link. Of course, GOD is the One who answers those prayers, but for whatever reason, I believe He honors consistency and unity.

I usually pray [these prayers] at night, because if/when I resolved to pray in the morning, there was always something to distract me or make me forget, so I just have a rule that I don’t lie down until I’ve covered our nation, leaders, military, intelligence, security, law enforcement, targets, and the terrorists themselves in prayer. If I am especially tired, it’s hard and might take an hour to pray what I should have been able to pray in eight minutes.

Does this sound a bit obsessive to you? I agree. In certain areas I have a tendency to be “consistent” to a fault. – Other times it seems I’m so scatterbrained I couldn’t be consistent if my life depended on it. (Go figure.) But there are a few selected things I have committed to that I believe I am called to do, and I keep my promise to an extent that at times can be almost embarrassing.

But lately I have wondered if the Lord might deliberately pick the obsessive among us to entrust with the assignments that He wants done. After all, He created some of us, and I have to believe He had His reasons, other than for humorous characters in TV shows.

Do you have any quirks that you sometimes wish you didn’t have? Personality traits that puzzle or even irritate other people? Are you irritated by others’ unusual characteristics? Do you ever wish God would change those people – or change you?

Well, here’s another question: Does God make mistakes?

Prayer: Lord God, who created me, help me to cooperate with You in changing the things about me that You want to change. Help me to accept the things about me that I don’t particularly like, but that You put in me for a reason. And give me the discernment to know the difference.

P. S. For the weirdest “coincidence” related to this assignment, see (reread) the story I posted a few years ago:

https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2020/01/03/worth-repeating/

Self-Made?

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing.” – Jesus (John 15:5)

Are you one of those Christians trying to “do the Lord’s work” yourself? How quickly we forget Who has given us everything we have and enabled us to do everything we do! It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that every believer has, at one time or another, gone down the rabbit trail of “good works” to earn God’s favor, instead of serving Him out of sheer gratitude for the unmerited favor (grace) we already have.

Then there’s the “self-made man,” who doesn’t even believe in God, much less give Him credit. But God is the One who gave him his abilities, his mind that could benefit from the education (provided him by his parents – also gifts from God), job opportunities, health and safety so he can continue to work, and the gift of living in a country where what he “earns” isn’t immediately taken away from him by tyrants. Every day of his life – life itself – all came from the God he doesn’t believe exists. :/ 

Uncle Phil, a character in my book Sparrows, is such a man. The reality of his life comes crashing in on him when his workplace – the World Trade Center – crumbled in moments, and he and his friend Ben barely escape with their lives. The men are brought to shelter in a nearby church by an unlikely stranger.

Later that evening, after Ben has fallen asleep, Phil finds himself reflecting on his life and how he has gone from the top of the world to barely dodging death, now sitting covered with ash and not knowing what to do next.

His mind was still reeling at the thought of his own helplessness, a thought still so foreign to him. He had never been helpless before in his life.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. Of course he had been completely dependent as a baby, before he could even make his needs known clearly. But he didn’t remember those days. His first memories were of being a child in preschool … of course he had been dependent there, too. He had felt like a big boy because he could walk, but he had unknowingly depended on his parents to see that he didn’t walk into the street or the swimming pool. He had felt independent, but of course, he wasn’t really. Then he had become a cocky, popular teenager … Well, he had been dependent then, too, although he never would have admitted it to anyone. But obviously someone had fed him, clothed him, and provided a roof over his head, a car, and driving lessons …

As he looked back over his life, Phil was gradually becoming aware that every act of “independence” and “achievement” on his part – getting a degree, landing a great job, flying all over the world – had actually been made possible by others, from those who paid his tuition to those who believed in him enough to take the risk of giving him his first job, to those with the training and experience to safely fly a jumbo jet across oceans.

Sure, he had had a small part in it all, but as he sat in the pew, still grey with ashes and utterly clueless as to what was going to happen next, he was realizing for the first time Mankind’s dirty little secret: that every living, breathing individual was helplessly dependent; some were just allowed for a brief time to believe that they weren’t. They were all like children, running around the mall play area, doing their thing and oblivious to the watchful eyes of the adults who kept them safe.

At first to someone like Phil this was an extremely unsettling realization, but as he gradually began to let go of his pride and accept the notion, if was as if a rosy glow on the horizon was announcing a new day, and he wondered if the revelation he was experiencing was actually the beginning of a new stage of his life, one of enlightenment rather than despair.

And he wondered why, at that moment, the Cross that stood steadily before him seemed like the one remaining sign of stability in the world. Sure, he was helpless, and as he now knew, always had been. But somewhere, Someone wasn’t, and the fact that he was still alive made him dare to hope that that Someone just might care about him, might actually have been looking out for him all along …

From Sparrows, copyright 2011, Ann Aschauer

If you know someone like Phil, say a prayer for him or her today. I know I’m going to.

Prayer: Lord, forgive us for the times we’ve been inclined to take the credit for the good things in our lives. We owe You everything – our thanks, our allegiance, our love, our worship, our very lives. Be glorified in us today, in Jesus’ name. Amen

Out of My Comfort Zone

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect. – I Peter 3:15

In my last post I told about how my daughter Kelly and I came to be in attendance at the pride parade some years ago.

https://seekingdivineperspective.com/?p=7919

I had written a pamphlet to give to the other attendees and participants to make clear why we had come. The following is my Open Letter to the LBGT Community:

First of all, I want to apologize for the deplorable treatment you have received from the Church – or that small but vocal element claiming to represent the Church, those folks that seems to think there’s only one kind of sin and you’re it. When Jesus confronted people like that, He said “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone,” (John 8:7) and at least that group was honest enough with themselves to drop their rocks and walk away. I’m not sure certain people would be willing to do that today. I am so sorry.     

Secondly, I want to make it very clear that I have no illusions about being better than you. When the Bible says “ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” (Romans 3:23) that most certainly includes me. So when I talk about sin, know that I am one sinner relating to another. There’s so much more to sin than sexuality, so let’s just set that whole issue aside. Have you ever told a lie? (I have.) Have you ever wanted something that didn’t belong to you? (So have I.) Have you ever had bad feelings toward someone else? (I have, too.) Have you ever lost your temper? (Me too.) Have you ever held a grudge? (Don’t get me started…!) You see, there are so many things that count as sin, and I think it’s fair to say that all of us are guilty of most of them. You don’t have to be an axe murderer to fall short of God’s glory. Any sin makes a person unfit for heaven and subject to God’s judgment. The really scary thing is how sin comes so naturally! None of us had to be taught to be selfish. Each of us has something in us that is contrary to God. It’s called “sin nature,” and we’re all born with it. I happen to have an inability to let stuff go, or to put it bluntly, unforgiveness. When I’ve been hurt – even if the hurt was accidental – my natural tendency is to retreat, lick my wounds, pout, sulk, and plan a pity party for myself. There are two problems with pity parties: For one thing, usually nobody else wants to come, and most importantly, the Bible says that kind of attitude is DEAD WRONG. Jesus had some choice words for people like me: “If you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matthew 6:15) That terrifies me, because guess what – I need forgiveness! You see, unforgiveness is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die. But what can I do? I have thin skin – I was born this way! It would seem the only solution for me is to be born AGAIN, with a new nature. So how do I do that? Through the only One who was born without a sin nature, God’s perfect Son, Jesus.

Jesus loved people like no one else could. He taught them, He healed them, He fed them, He even raised them from the dead. But the main reason He came was to rescue them – rescue us – from the consequences of our sin. The Bible says “The wages of sin is death” – that is, spiritual death, eternal separation from God – and Jesus loved us too much to let that happen. He wanted to save us so much that He paid the price for us by allowing Himself to be beaten, mocked, spit on, and nailed to a cross to die a slow, agonizing death, while His enemies gloated. Jesus was the only One who should never have had to pay any penalty. But He did, because He loved us so much He couldn’t bear the thought of spending eternity without us. All we need to do is to accept that substitution, knowing there is no way we can save ourselves.

The moment I placed my faith in Jesus and asked Him to forgive me, the slate was wiped clean, and I could start over. Only now I have Him to help me get over stuff, to have a better attitude and more patience and forgiveness for other people. Because when I gave up my “right” to hold grudges, it turned out not to be a sacrifice at all! When I let go of the hurts and allow Jesus to mend relationships, I experience a joy that I can only describe as indescribable – a kind of joy the “old me” never could have imagined. (It’s way better than a pity party!) Now I usually don’t have time to pout; I’m too busy enjoying life and loving people.

Notice I said “usually”. There are still times when I get hurt, and the old nature rears its ugly, unforgiving head. But if I recognize it and ask the Lord to help me let it go, He does!   Please don’t get me wrong. I’ve got a long way to go. I still struggle and probably always will. But I’m not struggling alone, and that has made all the difference. As you know, there are plenty of people all too willing to take it upon themselves to tell you how you need to change. Ignore them. God is the One who created you. He knows your struggles and needs, and He’s the One who loves you. He won’t demand anything from you that He won’t empower you to do, and He won’t take anything away from you without replacing it with something much better. So, trust Him. Believe Him. Love Him. He loves you more than you can imagine. Enough to die for you. If something I’ve said today has struck a chord with you, I would love to meet you, talk with you, and pray with you. And I promise I won’t judge you – we’re all in this together.  God bless you.

Annie

Prayer: Lord, You have given me the words, and I have passed them on. Please continue to use them, not to condemn people, but to draw them to salvation – to You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Outreach out of My Comfort Zone

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. – John 3:17

Years ago, when we lived in Michigan, the story was on the news about the “church” group that went to funerals carrying signs saying things like, “God Hates Gay People” and “Gays Are Going to Hell.” I hope it goes without saying, the vast majority of the Christian community was appalled.

During a discussion addressing this church’s stand, a radio talk show host posed the question: “If you were standing next to one of these people with your own sign, what would your sign say?” I knew immediately what I would want my sign to say: “Ask me about the REAL Jesus – the One who LOVES you.” It wouldn’t say everything I wanted to say, but it was the kind of conversation starter I believed was needed in such a situation.

Although I didn’t call the talk show, I did end up using my idea for a sign/outreach. That same evening, I got an email from my friend Kim, telling me her church was going to attend the Pride Parade in Detroit that weekend, and would I like to join them? I threw the idea out to my daughter Kelly, and she immediately said “YES!”

The next day I was making my sign, although I didn’t plan the spacing well enough ahead of time. When I ran out of room at the end, Kelly stifled a smirk and suggested that rather than start over, I write, ” ❤ s U” instead of “loves you.” (*eye roll*) She assured me it looked fine.

Even so, I knew that the sign wouldn’t convey the total message I wanted to get across. Contrary to some people’s opinion, “God hates you” and “God approves of what you’re doing” are not the only two options, but to explain the redeeming love of Jesus would take much more than a bumper-sticker length message. Besides, I didn’t want anyone to misconstrue why I was there. I decided to write out what I wanted to say to the people, in case I got tongue-tied or just didn’t have time to say it all to as many people as I wanted to. I began working on an “open letter to the LGBTQ Community.” By the end of the week, I had finished it, printed out a few dozen copies, and folded and stacked them. Other than calming my insecurities about going into unfamiliar territory, I was all set.

But around midnight the night before the parade, Kelly still didn’t have her sign made.

“I don’t know what to write!” she lamented, on the verge of panic. Again, I had an idea, thinking about the damage that some so-called “Christians” had caused with their hateful speech and actions and attitudes.

“How about, ‘Can we start over?’?” I suggested. She loved the idea and quickly wrote it in bold black marker on an even bolder hot pink poster board.

The next morning, we said a prayer, got our signs and flyers, and headed for Detroit. When we had arrived downtown and were driving around looking for our meeting place, it seemed the streets were practically deserted. I was getting that uneasy feeling again, while the insecure part of me wanted to say, “Oh well I guess they’re not here maybe we got the wrong day let’s go home…” But then we spotted our group. Kim beckoned us to pull up, and when we did, she instructed us where to park.

When we rejoined the group, they gave us t-shirts that had the words “I’m sorry” on them. I confess I was a little reluctant to put one on, not sure what I was apologizing for … maybe for waiting so long to reach out.

Despite my having braced myself for an outpouring of hate, we found we were welcomed gladly, even tearfully, by the people in attendance. They thanked us for coming, took our pictures, and had their pictures taken with us. One even stepped out of the parade to come hug us, then hurried back to catch up. It was heartwarming, to say the least, but I still wanted to tell them more, even if knowing why we were there would make them feel less positively about us. Following Jesus is not a popularity contest.

I got out my “open letter,” which I had printed and stacked in a rainbow of vibrant colors. I gave them to the people we encountered, most of whom took them eagerly and hurried away to the rest of the festivities. I prayed they would read them thoughtfully when the time was right.

When it was time to go home, I found I was, in fact, reluctant to leave. There was so much more to be said, but I was hopeful that what I had written to these dear people would be enough …

(to be continued …)

Prayer: Lord, You told us to preach the Good News to all creation, but there are people we are uncomfortable with – and who are uncomfortable with us. Help us to get over ourselves and obey You, rather than our feelings. Thank You for giving us such a magnificent message to declare to the world – how could we not declare it? Move in us, overcome our anxieties, and help us to stand firm in the gospel of peace, even as we are resting in the peace of the gospel. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Hello, Strangers.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven. – Ecclesiastes 3:1

Dear readers,

I know I’ve been a bit AWOL lately. After my “sabbatical” turned out to be spending a year posting about every other week instead of every week, this year I have finally stepped back to focus on a couple of projects that have been on the back burner for too long – since before the C***d lock downs. I will post updates as progress is made (soon, I hope).

Meanwhile, I want to share with you a peek of where we spend summers, where I’ve been going for as long as I can remember, since before the north lighthouse had the American flag. I remember the night three teenagers snuck out to the end of the pier and painted that bit of “grafitti” that remains to this day. (Two of those teenagers ended up getting married, and this July we’ll celebrate our 52nd anniversary. 😏)

Enjoy. And if you happen to be in northern Michigan this summer, I hope you’ll let me know. I’d love to show you around.

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1HgdAND3Fi/

Prayer: Our Father and Creator, we are grateful that this world we have marred with our sin still has so much in it that reflects Your glory. Thank You for the beauty of the changing seasons and for the joy of human friendships. Thanks for friends we haven’t even met yet but have connected with through our love of writing and passion for You. Thank You that we can look forward to forever together in Your perfect kingdom, in Jesus’ name and by the power of His blood. Amen.

The Importance of Waiters

Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. – I Corinthians 12:27

The Church was in its infancy but growing fast. After the initial outpouring of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2), where “about 3,000 were added to their number that day” (vs 41), followers of Jesus began to gather on a regular basis. The description of the blossoming Church is heartwarming:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together in one place and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they gathered in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” (Acts 2:42-47)

During this honeymoon phase, the early Church had taken on the ministry of feeding widows, but the Grecian Jews complained about racial bias, claiming that their widows were being overlooked.

So the Twelve gathered all the disciples together and said, “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God in order to wait on tables.” – Acts 6:2

At first glance, this statement as translated might sound as though the apostles saw the feeding of the widows as a responsibility of lesser importance, but they merely wanted to focus on what they were called to do – preach the gospel – and knew that trying to do another ministry at the same time would mean being less effective at their primary duty. (Anyone who has had a hard time saying “no” has experienced the kind of burnout that comes with trying to do other people’s ministry along with one’s own. – Please don’t ask me how I know this.)

Those familiar with the ancient culture of the First Century and unfamiliar with the book of Acts might expect the apostles to give the job of serving to women, but surprisingly, the apostles considered feeding widows neither “women’s work” nor of minor importance. James, the half-brother of Jesus would later define “religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless” in this way: “to look after orphans and widows …” – James 1:27 God has a special place in His heart for widows, the women whose husbands had died, leaving them in a hostile culture without protectors and providers. The apostles also took this feeding program very seriously, not as an interruption of their ministry, but another part of it, important enough to require qualified workers.

“Brothers, choose seven men from among you who are known to be full of the Spirit and wisdom. We will turn this responsibility over to them and will give our attention to prayer and the ministry of the word.” – Acts 6:4

Notice, this ministry required being both wise and Spirit-filled. And, as many of you know, one of the seven was Stephen, “a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 6:4) With powerful leaders in each area, not only did the word of God spread even more, but the number of disciples grew rapidly. (6:7) “Stephen, a man full of God’s grace and power, did great wonders and miraculous signs among the people.” (Acts 6:8) He was later arrested and brought before the Sanhedrin, the religious authorities of Israel, where he preached a lengthy and eloquent message that was so convicting they promptly stoned Stephen to death.

That’s right. The first Christian martyr was a humble waiter who served the lowly widows.

Whatever your calling is as a follower of Jesus Christ, know that you are important! The Body of Christ is made up of millions of individuals uniquely qualified for every imaginable ministry, and then some. Don’t make assumptions about who is more or less important. “On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.” (I Corinthians 12:22)

I expect that on the day we meet the Lord face to face, He’s not going to ask us how many people we preached to, how many people read our books, how much money we brought into the Church, how many divinity degrees we had, how many mission trips we took, or whether we rose in the ranks to a position of power in the Church. I’m thinking we will be asked one thing: “Were you faithful in what I called you to do?” Are you ready to give Him an answer?

(Happy Waiter’s Day 🙂 )

Prayer: Lord, I know that the success of the Church involves each member’s doing his or her own part. Please keep me from running around trying to do someone else’s ministry. At the same time, keep me from sitting around waiting for someone else to do mine. Let the Body of Christ be complete, so that the job is complete. May the Great Commission be finished and every soul on earth hear the Gospel and respond, in Jesus’ name. Amen

Visiting My Mothers in Heaven

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

“Yes, Lord,” she told him, “I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world.” John 11: 25-27

The dream came shortly after my mother’s death, and about eight years after my mother-in-law’s. It was one of those dreams that caused me to wake up smiling.

I’m not sure how I got there, but in my dream I was with my mother and my mother-in-law in a place that seemed neither inside nor outside. If it was inside, the place was huge. If it was outside, it was inexplicably cozy.

The floor or ground was covered with flowers – flowers we were making together. Although my school never had a homecoming parade, I imagined it was a little like gathering in the gym with classmates to make paper flowers for a float. But these flowers weren’t paper. They were real, soft, colorful, fragrant flowers!

As we made one beautiful blossom after another, we indulged in “girl talk,” reminiscing about the highlights of our lives, joking, telling stories, laughing, even singing. As the piles of flowers grew higher, the fellowship grew sweeter and sweeter.

At one point I realized somehow that my visit with them was coming to an end. I reluctantly told them it was time for me to go, and they seemed to understand.

“This has been so wonderful!” I exclaimed, unable to fully express what our time together had meant to me. “And such a delightful surprise,” I added, still not quite realizing this was a dream. In my confusion, I stammered, “I-I thought you two were dead!”

Those dear women looked at each other for a moment, and simultaneously burst out laughing. They giggled as though this were the funniest joke they had ever heard.

When finally they began to catch their breath, my mother shook her head and said to me in that sweet, reassuring voice I had grown up depending on, “Oh honey, of course we’re not dead!” I can still picture their affectionate smiles as they said good-bye – or rather, “We’ll see you soon.”

For some people Mother’s Day is a sad reminder of someone dear who has departed this life. But if that mother knew Jesus as her Lord and Savior, it doesn’t have to be a sad day. After all, Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for the sin that separates us from our Creator.

And since Jesus didn’t stay dead but rose from the grave – conquering death once and for all – we know that death is not the end! Those who accept Jesus’s atoning sacrifice as a free gift are washed clean of their sin, and those who believe in His resurrection will be raised as He was raised! We will be together again – not sitting around on clouds playing harps (unless playing a harp is something you enjoy doing – I do.) – but in some way being an active part in His kingdom. Maybe we’ll be making flowers, or sculpting mountains, or composing worship music that surpasses anything we have yet heard on earth. I can envision my creative husband helping build the most beautiful mansions in preparation for souls yet to arrive.

On Mother’s Day, when memories of my mother come to mind, there is a certain bitter-sweetness to them. But it’s more sweet than bitter. I know she’s safely with her Savior, as well as all the other loved ones who have gone to be with Him – what a glorious fellowship we have to look forward to!

Meanwhile, I can still talk to Jesus every day, right where I am, and I can pray,

“Lord, tell Mom I love her, and I’ll see her soon.”

Prayer: Heavenly Father, we thank You for mothers. For some of us they have been channels of Your love, for others, examples of the fallenness of the human race. Some of us struggle to forgive our mothers, while some of us miss our mothers terribly. Some of us feel conflicting emotions of love and resentment, because our mothers are doing their best but are as flawed and imperfect as we are. Lord, the qualities we look for and appreciate in good mothers – tender love, nurturing, comfort, loving discipline, patience, humor, loyalty, forgiveness, encouragement, help, self-sacrifice – all are found in You, the Author and Finisher of our faith. For those of us who have mothers in our lives, for those of us who are mothers ourselves, give us these attributes, and help us to be the people You created us to be, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

To the Young among Us

What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. – James 4:14

Yesterday my grandson Jackson and I hit the theater for the matinee of “Peter Pan.” I was eager to share with him the show that I had loved so much as a child. I was very familiar with the songs, which my sister and I had played on a vinyl record day in and day out, and I sang them to Jack in the car on the way there. He was somewhat less enthusiastic than I was when he left the house, reluctant to leave his videogames behind and spend all afternoon at a show he wasn’t sure he’d enjoy.

But God answers all kinds of prayers, including those of a grandmother wanting to make some good memories. By the time the window magically opened, and Peter was flying into the bedroom, a dark silhouette against a deep blue sky full of stars, complete with fairy dust and music hitting an ominous crescendo, my grandson was whooping and clapping as excitedly as any child there.

He recognized the songs I’d been teaching him in the car, and I caught him mouthing some of the words, especially “I Won’t Grow Up!” which was so easy, since much of it involved just repeating what Peter sang. We sang along. We tapped our toes to the dancing. We laughed together at Captain Hook and Smee.

And I cried.

It took me by surprise, since the first time it happened was during an especially silly song, and I didn’t know why it would elicit tears. But then I realized that my mind was replaying hours of play with my big sister Susie, where we would sing and dance and pretend to be the characters. Usually, I was Wendy, since I was more of the girly-girl, while Susie was the one determined not to ever, ever grow up!

Fast Forward – She did grow up … kinda. Susie’s living in the Arizona sunshine with her pool, her hiking trails, her mountain bikes, and motor home to satisfy her wanderlust. Of course, now she spends too much of her time going to health specialists and has less time and energy to “play,” but her spirit hasn’t changed.

Meanwhile, “Wendy” grew up, too. I was the one who became a mother of three, grandmother of five, and teacher, not of lost boys (exactly) but of middle school students, which was not that different.

But yesterday afternoon, suddenly all those years melted away, and there we were again in my mind’s eye, and the tears were spilling over during the silliest parts of the play.

What happened?! How did we get to be in our seventies? Where did the last 65 years go?

This thought is especially sobering, since I know that the next decade will fly by faster than the one before, and for all I know, I may not even reach tomorrow. (That possibility becomes more likely with each passing day.)

This might even be a depressing thought, if I didn’t know that the best is yet to come. I don’t know how unbelievers deal with the certainty of death, but those of us who follow Jesus Christ also have the certainty of resurrection and eternal life! And the next life will not only be better, but it will also be far more real than this life. “Now we see but a poor reflection, as in a mirror; then we shall see face-to-face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (I Corinthians 13:12)

A couple of dreams I had recently drove this point home. https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2025/03/01/behind-the-veil/

So, while I may weep at unexpected times as the brevity of life hits me especially hard, I am comforted and excited to know what lies ahead – not know exactly, since Jesus said we couldn’t even imagine it – but to know that He’s preparing it for us, and so it’s going to be incredible!

No, there is no Neverland, but there’s something better. I hope I see you there.

Prayer: Dear Lord, thank You for the past 72 years of life. Thanks for blessing me with the “good times,” for carrying me through the hard times, for giving me the strength when I did what was right, and for forgiving me when I didn’t. Every moment of this life that has flown by has been in Your hands, and I know that every moment of the future will continue to be. I am Yours, today, tomorrow, and forever. And I pray that every person who reads this post today will draw a bit closer to You because of having read it. And if any of them have not given their lives to You yet, especially those whose lives have just begun and who are completely oblivious to the brevity of their years, may they seek the Truth, find You, give their lives to You, and during these fleeting years be everything You created them to be, in Jesus’ Name. Amen