“And we know that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose.”                                                                                                                                                                                    (Romans 8:28)

Maggots are blessings from God.

(When I was a speech teacher, I had a list of nine ways to begin a speech that would grab the audience’s attention. You just read an example of “the startler.”)

Years ago I came across an article in the newspaper that I found so fascinating that I clipped it and stuck it in my Bible, where it stayed for years (along with about 90 other miscellaneous pieces of paper – Does anyone else do that?). I’m not sure what my original purpose was for putting it there, possibly because it made the whole notion of Darwinian evolution look pretty ridiculous. – reason in itself for me to like an article.

This article was about a man whose injured leg became so severely infected that after doctors had unsuccessfully tried the most advanced antibiotics, he was finally scheduled to have the leg amputated. A relative heard about the revival of an ancient treatment involving the use of maggots. As a last-ditch effort the family agreed to give the little critters a try. The man’s leg was cleaned, a layer of hungry maggots applied, and gauze loosely wrapped around the area. Two days later the gauze and the maggots were removed, revealing a pink, healthy leg, and the surgery was canceled.

The amazing thing about maggots is that these little creatures can tell the difference between live tissue and dead tissue, and they only eat the dead stuff.  They also secrete a chemical substance that promotes healing, so in the case of the man with the dying leg, the maggots ate the dead tissue, left the live tissue, and bathed it in medicine. (“Survival of the fittest”? I think not.)

So, why am I telling this story, other than the fact that I now have the attention of every middle school boy? (Yeah, I’ve taught middle school. Gross is cool.) As we go through life, we get wounded – don’t we? Everything seems hideous, horrifying, chaotic, and just plain wrong. Sometimes prayer yields only more appalling circumstances. (Maggots eating my flesh? Hey, I’m not dead yet!) But Scripture teaches us that “God works all things together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose,” (Romans 8:28) and there’s a reason it says that. Because, if we truly are trusting God, with the passing of time what seemed so disgusting and appalling actually turns out to be right, until one morning you wake up and realize … you’re healed.

Next week I’ll share with you such a time in my life.

Prayer: Lord, Your ways are so much higher than ours, and our vision is so blurred by our own inadequacies and insecurities. We trust that You are working all things together for our good, even those things that seem appalling to us at the time. Thank You for not quitting on us when we complain about our circumstances, even when we beg You to “make it stop!” You alone know everything it’s going to take for us to be truly healed.  We yield our lives to You, in Jesus’ name.  Amen

“Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field the LORD God had made.”      Genesis 3:1a  (KJ21)

You have probably heard of the frog in the pot – the poor, unsuspecting creature relaxing in a pot of cool water, thinking all is well. If the water suddenly turned hot, it would jump out and save itself. But since the water is heated very gradually over the stove, the cold-blooded critter just keeps adapting. Finally, the water begins to boil, and it can no longer adapt, because it is now dead.

I have heard this analogy related to America and some of the obvious evils of our time. But I haven’t seen much attention paid to a more subtle onslaught of things that would not necessarily be called “evil,” but can take a more prominent place than they should in our lives. When certain things – even good things – take precedence over the things of God, it’s time to take a serious look at our priorities.

When I was growing up, most Americans went to church on Sundays, and the ones who didn’t usually had Sundays set aside for family. The people running the schools wouldn’t have dreamed of scheduling anything on a Sunday.

If Congress were to pass a law making it illegal to attend church in America, with serious penalties attached, I’m guessing there would be a massive outcry from the Christian community. (This is why this hasn’t happened.)

But today something more subtle is taking place in certain regions, in stages that go something like this:

1. “Yes, we’ll have occasional practices on Sundays, but they’ll always be at 1:00 P.M., so it won’t interfere with church.” (No one objects.)

2. “So, practices at 1:00 on Sundays seem to be working well with everyone, so we’re going to do that every week during the season.” (Again, no objections.)

3. “There will be a few games this season on Sundays, but don’t worry, they’ll be in the afternoons.” (Still, no objections.)

4. “Since Sunday’s game is out of town, please be at the school at 10:45 A.M. The bus is leaving at 11:00.” (Parents think, Oh well, it’s just this once.) (Care to take a guess as to whether this will be just a one-time thing?)

And the frog sits in the pot, while church pews and Sunday school seats are collecting dust. We can’t blame the world – it’s just doing what the world does. If Christians aren’t speaking up, why would anyone else turn off the stove?

When I see kids who have been absent from church and tell them we missed them, there’s a tendency to shrug and say, “I had a game,” as if the choice had been a no-brainer. They haven’t consciously chosen sports over God; if you were to ask them what is more important, they would say “God” without hesitation. But when it comes to time commitment, other activities seem to be the nonnegotiable every time.

What frustrates me when there are five leaders and two kids at Sunday school or youth group, is not the kids that are missing. It’s the complicity of the parents, who drive them to their meetings, practices, and games, but can’t manage to bring them to a church function. And when one child has an activity that is using the family transportation, that often means none of his/her siblings will be at church, either, even if they want to be. What kind of message are we sending the next generation, when God is relegated to the back burner week after week?

What is the frog’s (child’s) perspective over time?

1. “My family always goes to church on Sunday, unless we’re sick or there’s an emergency.”

2. “My family usually goes to church on Sunday, unless something else comes up.”

3. “Sometimes my family goes to church Sunday, if there’s nothing else going on.”

4. “My family sometimes goes to church on Christmas Eve and Easter.”

I can hear cries of “Legalism!” coming from some corners. And I have read on other blogs, “Do we have to go to church to worship God?” And the answer is, no, of course not. But a huge part of worship is obedience. God’s Word repeatedly stresses how important we are to one another. Understand, He needs nothing from us, but we need to be together, to experience the joy of corporate worship, to pray for and with one another, and to study the Bible together. (Studying it alone makes it too easy to go off onto some personal tangent and away from the Author.) Besides, how many of us will really worship, pray, and study Scripture consistently, independent of others?

If you are imprisoned in solitary confinement for believing in Jesus (a very real scenario in many places), then God will honor whatever fellowship you have with Him. He will certainly meet you where you are. But if there’s ample opportunity to get together with other believers as He has told us to do, to be encouraged and strengthened by them – not to mention the encouragement they need from you – and you blatantly choose not to participate, don’t be surprised if somewhere down the road you may be thinking, I just don’t feel as close to God as I used to. And the enemy of your soul will use that as an excuse not to believe at all.

And the frog dies.

While Christians in other countries risk their freedom, their livelihood, and their very lives to gather with the faithful, why are American Christians so blase about practicing their faith? Believers in other parts of the world would give their right arm to be able to fellowship, study the Bible, worship, and pray freely with fellow believers. What would they say about our preoccupation with extracurricular activities while “forsaking the assembling of ourselves together”? (Hebrews 10:25)

The schools have our children six days a week. Why do they need access to them on Sundays, too? I wonder (in my fantasy world) what would happen if at the beginning of the semester every church-going Christian parent in America were to say (politely), “My child would very much like to participate in __________, but we go to church on Sunday morning, and the rest of the day we are together as a family, so (s)he won’t be able to participate on Sundays.”?

I’m guessing we’ll never know.

Okay, parents, prove me wrong.

Prayer: Lord, You are my life – the first, the last, and everything in between. Let my actions and choices show it. Please reveal to me anything that I am knowingly or unknowingly putting ahead of you, and deliver me from subtle idolatry. In Jesus’ name, amen.

“Jesus replied, ‘No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.’ ”                                                      Luke 9:62

More often than not, I don’t remember my dreams. I wake up with a vague sense that I have dreamed something, but I usually can’t recall it, and that’s OK. Later in the morning, as I am giving my mind to God for the day, I will ask Him to help me forget what ought to be forgotten, and remember what I need to remember, including dreams. Sometimes as I pray that prayer, a dream will come back to me, and I immediately know what it was saying to me.

A couple of months ago I had a dream that I remembered  the moment I woke up, and to this day it has had an effect on  the way I view my faith and my calling.

We had experienced some storms over the summer that had knocked out the power and had toppled some trees. Limbs in the road were starting to be a familiar sight. So, the dream that I had that one night was so vivid that it seemed even more real than the average dream.

In my dream, my friend Bre and I had walked to the end of the pier near our house. The waves of Lake Michigan were splashing against the base of the lighthouse, and we could see dark clouds approaching from the North. As the wind picked up and started whipping our hair and clothes around, I started to wonder how much longer we should stay on the pier. At that moment Bre and I said simultaneously, “We’d better get back.”

When we looked behind us, the waves were washing over the pier in depths between 4 and 12 inches at any given moment. The pier looked slippery and treacherous, and there were no railings to hold onto.

As the waves got bigger and the wind stronger, we realized it was highly unlikely that we could walk back to the shore.

And then I saw the shore.

Dozens of large trees had fallen, their tangled limbs forming an impenetrable hedge all along the shoreline.

I was thinking we’d need to call a friend with a boat, or even the Coast Guard, but Bre and I realized that neither of us had a cell phone, and that the only chance of survival was to hang onto the lighthouse. At that point getting home before the storm was over had about 0% chance of success.

The gravity of our situation was just beginning to sink in, and I woke up before it turned into a full-blown panic attack. As I lay in the dark, realizing this dream wasn’t dissolving into the night like most of my dreams, I pondered its meaning.

Bre and I were at the end of the pier. What else is at the end of a pier?

A lighthouse.

What does a lighthouse do?

It shines a light in the darkness. It prevents shipwrecks by warning of impending danger, and it guides ships from the storms of life into a safe harbor. 

Bre and I have some things in common, but the most important thing we share is our faith in Christ. As Christ-followers, it’s our duty to shine His light into the darkness, to warn people of the disaster that awaits if they keep going their own way and do not heed His Word, and to guide others to the safe harbor of His love. (I know, Cliche City here. Sorry.)

But I saw something else in my dream about being “between a rock and a hard place.” As difficult as it was to stay out there in the storm, just hanging onto (being?) the lighthouse, it would be much harder, even fatal, trying to go back where we came from. Clearly there was no going back.

I was sharing this dream with my friend Kelly, and she said, “But I know people who have gone back. They have renounced Jesus and no longer follow Him.” (How tragic!)

I replied, “Well, then this dream was saying that for me, there’s no going back.”

A few days later I received a text message from another friend, one I had seen on a trip back to my old home town. The text said how good it was to spend time with me again, and it closed with the statement, “You are a lighthouse.”

I had never been called that before, but I thought with a wry smile, Yeah, I know…

Has God called you to do something important for His kingdom? (If you profess to believe in Him, your answer had better be “Yes!”) Is it getting harder and harder? Are there storms? Have you thought that life was easier before you made a commitment to Christ? Are you tempted to go back?

Don’t even think about it.

Prayer: Lord, You set Your face toward the Cross, and You didn’t turn back, because the Cross was necessary to save us from our sins. In view of Your mercy, and knowing that You will never abandon us, help us to follow You wholeheartedly, “no turning back, no turning back.” In Your name, Amen.

This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.                                                                                                                                                                  Psalm 118:24

It was a beautiful October day, and I was heading to my friend Kelly’s house for a prayer walk. Brightly colored trees were everywhere, and my mind was filled with lovely visions and happy thoughts of Jesus. But that soon changed.

Although my stereo was playing one worshipful song after another, as I got into the town my eyes were assaulted with dark images from virtually every yard I passed. Lawns had been seemingly transformed into cemeteries, with tombstones displaying clever sayings, as though graves were things to be laughed at. Replicas of partially decomposed corpses swung from trees or reached bony hands upward from the ground. Yards and houses were decked with sculls and garlands of cobwebs, as though death and decay were things to be celebrated.

By the time I reached Kelly’s house, my mood had changed considerably. When she answered the door with a cheery “Good morning!” instead of greeting her back, I blurted out the thought that had been building:

“If Christians celebrated Life half as much as the world celebrates death, we could really make a statement!”

Kelly didn’t flinch, and she had no idea what I was suggesting, but she was immediately on board.

“Let’s do it!” she declared. “We can use our yard!”

Thus began one of the biggest adventures of our lives, an outreach that was to fill every October, and a great deal of the weeks leading up to October, for the next fifteen years. It started that year with humble beginnings:

Year One, Halloween Night: Kelly’s family’s yard has been transformed into a cemetery of sorts, but with two twists: Every plywood tombstone has on it, not a clever saying of man, but a verse of Scripture making reference to the Resurrection of Jesus. The swing set is covered with sheets spray painted various shades of grey, and the round picnic table has been turned sideways and covered with the same grey sheets to look like the stone that has been rolled away from the tomb of Jesus. Kelly and I have dressed our adorable daughters as angels, and they are running to and fro, handing out bags filled with candy and Bible tracts to the people who have stopped to read the messages on the tombstones. A boom box is playing worship music nonstop all evening.

Fast Forward, Ten Years: Dozens of people are gathered outside the yard,  filling their bags with tracts, candy, and small New Testaments. Kelly’s girlfriends are handing out free popcorn, hot dogs, coffee, and hot cider under the strings of star-like Christmas lights strung from the trees to the porch. Some trick-or-treaters are warming themselves at the portable fire pit on the sidewalk, and a pastor is giving “sidewalk counseling” to one of them. Most of the visitors are lined along the fence, watching the production of “Satan’s Worst Nightmare,” a multimedia production depicting the death, burial, Resurrection, and final victory of Jesus over the powers of darkness – from Satan’s point of view. A live band is on the porch, and a big screen is behind the production, displaying the lyrics to the songs being played. The mood is festive, everyone seems to be having a great time, except perhaps the kids in long black robes who have been trying unsuccessfully to burn one of the New Testaments in the fire. The set is impressive, thanks to the artistic gifts of friends the Lord has sent to us over the years. The costumes look professional, unlike the white sheets we had used for angel robes that first year. God has sent us talented designers, actors, musicians, singers, dancers, choreographers, lighting technicians (Kelly’s husband just happens to be an electrical engineer.), and enthusiastic, servant-hearted people of all ages who have just shown up and asked, “How can I help?” And it seems I have finally made use of my college degree in directing and play-writing. (Don’t let my scurrying around with an overloaded clipboard fool you – I’ve got everything under control!) By the end of the evening hundreds of people will have witnessed the reenactment of Satan’s worst nightmare – the Resurrection of Jesus and His final victory.

“Satan’s Worst Nightmare” is the reason I may start spending less time writing blogs and more time working on the manuscript of my next book. When I start telling people about this outreach, I find myself wanting to talk for hours. There isn’t room here to elaborate on all the “adventures” Kelly and I have had over the years, along with anyone else who wished to be involved in this project. Suffice it to say, we’ve felt ourselves to be “on the front lines” more than once, and if we’ve learned one thing, it’s that we need to bathe everything in prayer and to keep our spiritual armor on (Ephesians 6:10-18) at all times.

After all, even in a small town, if you set out to make a public mockery of the devil on Halloween, you’re in for a wild ride.

Prayer: Lord, we know that every day belongs to You, and October 31 is no exception. Make us a reminder to others that, no matter what the season, “Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world.” (I John 4:4) and that “the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5) In the name of Jesus, the Light of the world, Amen.

At a time when I was beginning to wonder how many people were actually reading my blog, and whether it made any difference to anyone, I have received a pleasant surprise – nominations for the Versatile Blogger Award from two different sources.

1.) Thank the person(s) who nominated you.                                                                    Thank you, K. Alice Compeau and Globe&Life. It was so kind of you to think of me and nominate me

2.) Include a link to their blog in your post.   

kalicecompeau.com   globalchange145

3.) Share 7 facts about yourself.

     1.) My name is Ann Aschauer.                                                                                                             2.) I started writing “books” in the first grade and loved to write all through my childhood in St. Louis, MO. In college I majored in theater -directing and playwriting.             3.) I have three grown children and five grandchildren.                                                               4.) I have taught kids of all ages (kindergarten through high school) French, music, English, speech, and drama; at public, private, Christian, charter, and home school. My favorite thing to teach is middle school drama (pardon the redundancy).                                     5.)  I dream a lot. My first novel, Counselor, started as a dream, which turned into a journal entry, which turned into a short story, which became a novel, which became a trilogy of fiction for teens and young adults.                                                                                         6.) I sing and play piano, guitar, and harp (not simultaneously). Among other venues, I have sung to the troops. (Long story)                                                                                                     7.) Most importantly: I am loved by God, saved by Jesus Christ, and filled with the Holy Spirit, the Source of any and every good thing in my life.

4.) Nominate 15 bloggers of your choice to keep spreading the love. 

1.)   Mitch Teemley  @mitchteemley                                                                                              2.)   dettinger47      @dettinger47                                                                                                      3.)  Chaplapreneur  @chaplapreneur                                                                                                4.) Cindy Dawson  @cynthiacdawson                                                                                              5.) Fractured Faith Blog  @fracturedfaithblog                                                                                6.)  Russellings of the Spirit  @revruss1220                                                                                    7.)  The Lost Coin Blog @thelostcoinblog                                                                                       8.) thatredheadgirl   @thatredheadgirl                                                                                             9.)  Carole Duff   @caroleduff                                                                                                        10.) Leila Grandemange  @leilagrandemange                                                                                11.) My Journey So Far @myjourneysf                                                                                              12.) oneta hayes @onetarhayes                                                                                                            13.) 140 Character Christian @140characterchristian                                                                    14.) vicklea    @vicklea                                                                                                                          15.)   John Eli  @johneligaray

Again, thanks so much to K. Alice Compeau and Globe&Life (Sorry, I don’t know your name. :/)  for the honor. I have enjoyed getting to know this blogging community, reading your insights, lessons, and humor.   God bless you all!

 

“Go and make disciples of all nations …”

                                                                                      Matthew 28:19

What’s wrong with this picture?

It’s lunch time at Average American High School, USA. A group of foreign exchange students are assembled around one table – a young man from Sweden, another young man from Spain, a young lady from Japan and her girlfriend from France. A German student joins them without a word; this is their normal routine. Every day they sit together, learning about one another’s countries and comparing their experiences in America. They laugh at themselves as they practice their English, and they promise to visit each other when the school year is over.

Right next to this table is a table full of Christian students. After saying a prayer over their lunch, they chat excitedly about how great the youth group was the night before, and they brainstorm ideas for fundraising. After all, they have to raise enough money by the end of the month to go on a mission trip to Mexico so they can share the gospel and the love of Jesus with people in another country.

HELLOOOOOOOO?! News flash! There’s a mission field less than 10 yards from you! Going there is free! You don’t have to fund-raise! You don’t have to have a passport! You don’t have to get any shots! You don’t have to learn another language! The mission field has already done all that! Yes, THEY’ve done the hard work, they’re here, and now all you have to do is obey Jesus and “preach the gospel” – with or without words.

Maybe my description is an exaggeration. I hope so. But I remember having a French student living with us years ago. Her best friends at the local high school were the German student, the Japanese student, and an American atheist. These girls were always welcome at our house, but whenever they came over, I had to wonder – Where are the Christian kids? Are they clustered somewhere in their little prayer groups and Bible studies, or – worse – trying to remain incognito, with their faith visible only on Sunday mornings?

We have the message the world is literally dying to hear – that God loved all of us so much that He was willing to give His only begotten Son to die in our place, to pay for our sins, so that we could be forgiven, be adopted into God’s family, and live forever! Do we really believe that? Do we really believe what Jesus said about being the only way to eternal life – that without Him we are utterly and eternally lost? (John 14:6)  If we do, then our hearts should be breaking for anyone who doesn’t know the Good News. If our hearts aren’t breaking over a lost and dying world, maybe it’s time to reevaluate our own faith.

Reaching out to the foreign students is a great idea, not only because it is far easier and more economical than mission trips, but also because it’s a great strategy. Think about it: most people in the world are fortunate if they have a roof over their heads, clothes on their backs, and food on their tables. The families that can afford to send their children to the US are usually wealthier, more influential citizens in their countries. Often these students are the sons and daughters of political leaders, even heads of state!

Imagine if you shared the gospel with the son of a prime minister, and he made a commitment to Christ. When summer arrives, that student goes home and is asked by family and friends (and the press) about his experience in America. And he tells about his experience in America – in other words, he gives his testimony! He doesn’t need to learn the language, he speaks it fluently! He doesn’t need to work at making connections and building relationships – he already has them! And his country is watching.

When I was in high school, our class had one exchange student. This year just one of our local high schools has 29 of them.

What a mission field! What are we waiting for?

Prayer: Father, You have told us to take the gospel into the whole world, and today there are so many ways in which it is easier than ever to do just that. Make us aware of every opportunity to reach out to others, offering them our friendship, so that through us You can offer them Life, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

“The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”                                                                                                                                                                             I Samuel 16:7b

As I mentioned in a piece I posted earlier this year (around my 65th birthday), I have recently become more aware of attitudes toward older people. No doubt this is partly because I have entered the season of the empty nest and retirement. But I’m pretty sure another factor is having moved from a town where I was a very active member of my church and community to a town where I am virtually unknown.

I have since noticed that unless a person has already distinguished himself in some way, an older person tends to be relegated to the pews. It seems we are generally not looked upon as people who have much to offer in terms of experience, teaching, or counseling. I’m not sure if it’s because people assume that we’re too tired, sick, or weak to teach, or that our short-term memory doesn’t allow us to focus enough to counsel, or that we’re just plain dumb because we have to ask our grandchildren for help with technology.

Look, I may not know how to switch gears on a search engine, but I’ve known the Lord longer than most of you have been alive, and I’ve been studying the Bible for about five decades now. Are you sure there’s nothing you could learn from me?

One day my daughter asked what I was doing Saturday night. She said a newlywed couple in the church were having some marital problems and needed some counseling. I was excited, thinking, At last! Someone wants to avail themselves of the wisdom I’ve gained over a 45-year marriage!

“So, Mom, can you watch the kids while Sean and I go talk to them?”

>sigh<

I was so preoccupied with my own wanting to be more involved that I didn’t realize until about six weeks ago that I myself had succumbed to this very mindset!

I was in my old home town for an authors’ dinner where I was one of ten authors scheduled to speak and sign books. When the woman planning the event told me that each of us was going to be given about 12 minutes to speak, I immediately did the math and realized that this added up to a total of two hours of speaking! I thought surely we would wear out our audience long before the close of the event.

I didn’t have to worry. For one thing, two of the authors didn’t make it, so that left “only” eight of us.

Secondly, the woman planning the evening had scheduled four of us to speak before dinner and four of us after, so the speaking time was split up.

Thirdly, the sheer diversity of authors was anything but boring! We were young, old, and in between; men and women; black and white; writers of fiction, non-fiction, analysis of controversial issues, inspiring testimonies, devotionals, and poetry.

One of the last authors to speak was an elderly lady with snow-white hair, a long blue lace dress, and a sweet smile on her face. I immediately assumed that she must be a poet – the kind of poet that writes for greeting card companies. I settled myself in for what I expected to be a big yawn.

Shame on me.

This woman spoke of her younger years, the years of the Cold War and the Iron Curtain. There was no internet in those days, and Christians in closed countries had no access to the Bible unless believers from free nations smuggled them in. Well, this is what this lady and her husband did. The very fact that they were such unlikely looking smugglers made it easy. Most countries were more than happy to have these “rich American tourists” as their guests and rarely, if ever, searched their luggage. The couple had brought Bibles into so many places that the title of her book had to be changed from Adventures in Europe to Global Travels of God’s Servants. Her testimony was riveting, and as she neared the end of her speech, she casually added that yes, it was risky, yes, they eventually got caught, and yes, they spent time in prison. She then closed with a hilarious poem about resisting God’s call until He gives up and just drops you on your butt. It was called “Butt Prints in the Sand,” which was, of course, a parody of “Footprints in the Sand.” She definitely practiced the old rule of “Leave ‘em laughing.”

I was thoroughly rebuked.

So, I guess I can’t complain too much about people’s preconceived notions about this sixty-something sister, when I myself misjudged an older saint with so much to share.

I’ll have to be more open-minded and more patient with the closed-minded. But I am still on the lookout for opportunities to speak, teach, disciple, counsel, or testify.

Just don’t ask me to speak on the finer points of configuring a format.

Prayer: Lord, give me an open mind and open heart toward others. Help me to see each individual as a treasure, someone You created in Your image, and someone with a unique gift to share. And make me willing to share what You’ve given me, as Your Spirit leads, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Paul and his companions traveled throughout the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia. When they came to the border of Mysia, they tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to. So they passed by Mysia and went down to Troas. During the night Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” After Paul had seen the vision, we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the gospel to them.                                                                                                                                                                                                        Acts 16:6-10

One of the most frustrating sounds to me is that little voice in my GPS saying “Turn around when possible.” It means I’ve messed up and have to get myself back on track.

There’s also a voice in the spiritual dimension that tells me “Turn around when possible,” and I’m not in my car. That’s when I find out God has another plan.

The other day I read a blog in which the writer declared confidently (as only an American twenty-something can) that her dream is pretty much set in stone, that there is no Plan B. I saw a bit of myself in her, as I look back on my early dreams and the paths and detours my life has taken since. As I reflect on the many times I set out, determined, in one direction only to have God stop me in my tracks, often turning me around 180 degrees, I can declare now, as only a seasoned Christian can, “Thank God I didn’t get my Plan A.”

There were times when Plan A proved impossible. Plan B seemed like a compromise, and I was ashamed to admit that I had changed course, especially when other dreamers would look at me as though I had betrayed them. Sometimes it even got down to a Plan C, and I seriously wondered whether I would ever find my true calling.

Whatever the plan is, prayer has to be the starting point. Spending hours in prayer  in a solitary place is not exactly every young person’s dream. It’s not nearly as dramatic or glamorous as speaking or singing in front of thousands of people (giving God all the glory, of course) or riding in on my white horse to save the day. But since then the Lord has taught me that these times spent with Him is where the true power lies, and as HIS will unfolds, I have seen more times than I can count that His plan was far better than mine.

Write this down: Your “Plan B” just might be God’s Plan A.

Think of the examples in Scripture where God’s plan was so much higher than man’s:

Joseph’s desire was probably to stay home with Daddy as the pampered, favorite son. Later his Plan B was to make the best of being a slave, then Plan C: getting out of that prison! But God’s was orchestrating His Plan A all along: making Joseph the prime minister of the most powerful nation on earth and using him to save humanity from starvation!

The early Christians had a good thing going, and I would guess their dream was to keep building the Church in Jerusalem. But when persecution broke out, Plan B was to scatter and survive. Of course, this was God’s Plan A from the beginning; Jesus had already told them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news.” (I guess they forgot.)

And of course, the greatest plan of all: our salvation. Jesus’ disciples were focused on their Plan A: following the Messiah in overthrowing Rome and making Israel a free nation – a plan that was seriously thwarted when Jesus was executed by said Roman government! But God’s plan all along was to save ALL Mankind from sin, so that we could enjoy life with Him in the most glorious kingdom of all – forever.

So, what is my goal now? The longer I live, the more I desire one thing: to please my Creator and Savior. And what pleases Him? The Bible says that without faith it is impossible to please God. Faith is to trust in His leading, even when He causes me to change my plans (emphasis on “my“). I want to be in the very center of His will, but in order to do that I need to trust that He knows best and not let disappointments crush my spirit. I have learned that when I am disappointed by circumstances beyond my control, the right response is to be confident that however good that dream might have seemed, God has a better idea.

Faith is not clinging stubbornly to my plan and defying everything around me that might suggest that another plan might be better. It is not refusing to admit that I just might be wrong, just might need my goals adjusted. It is believing that the God who sees all and knows all and wants the best for me may be seeing something I’m not seeing. It is being flexible – not in a wishy-washy way, but praying for discernment, knowing that what might appear to be the devil’s barriers could be the Lord’s boundaries. What I see as the enemy’s roadblocks just might be God’s guardrails. What I see as Satan’s obstacles just might be God’s speed bumps. After all, if we are to go down the path that’s perfect for us, it might be necessary for all the wrong or inferior paths to be closed off.

And faith is trusting that even if I make a mistake, like a GPS God can help me “Turn around when possible.”

It’s committing every plan to Him, and responding to every opportunity, disappointment, advance, or setback in the same way: with prayer. And then watching expectantly  for His plan to unfold.  – Try it.

You might be amazed at how much you end up loving His plan A.

Prayer: Lord, our vision is so limited. We don’t always see what we need, only what we think we want. Give us the faith to give our plans to You, the vision to see Your will for us, and the strength to reject the world’s view of where we should be going. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

[Mary] sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. …  “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”                                                                                                                                                                  Luke 10:39-42

Have you ever noticed that some people wear busyness as a badge of honor? I have heard conversations where it seems people are trying to one-up each other on who has the most irons in the fire, whose schedule is the most maxed out, and who has the most commitments and is most needed (important).

I have heard conversations like that where I was a participant.

In my younger, more energetic days I gauged my devotion to the Lord by how many activities “for Him” I could cram into a given week. I was going over my litany of commitments with a friend, explaining my stress and exhaustion in terms of extensive ministry, when he suddenly said, as if coming up with a great new idea, “You know, if you were to spread yourself just a little thinner…”

“Yes?” I asked eagerly.

“… you might reach a point of total ineffectiveness!”

As his sarcasm registered, my pride was deflated like a punctured balloon.  Is that what I was doing? I should have stopped then and there and committed to praying about my priorities. Unfortunately, I was too busy to do that. I didn’t put on the brakes until I was forced to, when I became so run down and sick I had to stop, pull out of everything, rest, and recover.

For years that was the pattern for me: get involved in too many things, go beyond the call of duty in each thing (Whom was I trying to impress?), get tired, cranky, frazzled, and anything but the picture of faith, and finally have to cancel out of numerous activities because I was too sick to go on. (This did not help my reputation for being reliable!)

After four consecutive holiday seasons of being too sick by December 25 to enjoy Christmas Day, I committed to doing nothing extracurricular for a season. Saying “no” was a new experience to me, but seeing the shocked looks on people’s faces when I said it was a sight almost worth the sacrifice in itself.

Starting in January, each day after taking the kids to school, I would come home and do the following: Read my Bible for an hour or so, pray for an hour or so, journal for an hour or so, and worship (sing and play my guitar or harp) for another hour, or two, or three… The old me (the Martha) felt like I was “wasting time!” But the newly committed me (the Mary) knew that for now this was right. I had never felt closer to the Lord, and though I didn’t know how long this season would last, I knew that I wasn’t wasting time, and that He was up to something good.

A few months later I found myself on the board of a newly forming Christian school and into one of the busiest seasons of my life. But in that busyness – guided by the Spirit that had held me during my time of retreat – I found reserves of energy and strength that came from knowing I was where I should be.

That ministry was not a permanent one, and it’s been years since I served on that board – years since all three of my children graduated from that school. The Lord has led me into other ministries, and somehow the Christian school has survived and thrived without me. (Imagine that!) But I still need to be wary of volunteering for anything and everything and spreading myself so thin as to reach a point of total ineffectiveness.

Sitting at Jesus’ feet is still the first order of business.

Prayer: Lord, forgive us for ever thinking we could do anything without You. Keep us on a short leash. Bring us back frequently to the point of waiting on You and resting in You, so that we can truly be what You want us to be, in Jesus’ name, Amen.