… being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.                                                                                                                                                                          Philippians 1:6

With the increased hours at home, I had anticipated more hours writing, but I should know by now that I can anticipate all I want, but the Lord usually has other plans. Or at the very least, He tweaks mine. And I’ve earned that that’s a good thing!

With all the adjustments people have been making regarding “social distancing,” my husband Marty’s lifestyle has changed very little. My beloved architect is immersed in his latest D.Y.I. project – replacing our old eye-sore book shelves with his own handiwork, a beautiful pair of book cases, complete with sliding glass doors.

These shelves are, in fact, far too nice now to hold mere books. Most of our books aren’t all that attractive, – worn out paperbacks, beat up hardbacks, and chewed-up children’s books collected over the past three generations. Hence, the project I no longer had any excuse to put off was to haul several large boxes of books, photos, and “miscellaneous” down to the basement, sort through them, and arrange all the ones we wanted in some kind of orderly fashion on the cubicle shelves. The items we didn’t want were set aside to give to our children and grandchildren or donate to the library or Good Will.

I expected this to be a relatively quick job; I’d just have to decide which ones to keep and which ones I’d give away, and place them on shelves or in boxes accordingly.

Simple, right?

But anything involving the printed word or old photos can get me bogged down for hours, if not days.

Phase One: Curiosity

Do I want to keep this book? Hmm …  I remember buying it, but I don’t think I ever got around to reading it …  It does look good …  I’ve heard good things about this author …  Let’s check out the table of contents … That chapter looks fascinating! I wonder what he says about that … hmmm, I don’t get what he’s talking about. Must be referring to something in an earlier chapter…

[Twenty minutes later] OKAY, ANN, DECIDE! DO I WANT THIS BOOK OR NOT? 

… Naaa …

Old college term papers were even worse. I had forgotten about them, but upon finding them I remembered how hard I had worked on them, all the research I had done, and how passionate I was about some of the subjects, how persuasively I wrote, and dang it I was good writer! Thus began

Phase Two: Nostalgia.

I was knee deep in old schoolwork and pictures, everything from yearbooks to wedding photos to catalogues Marty and I modeled for when we were both worth looking at. Baby books with adorable pictures and memorabilia of the kids, Shutterfly calendars with pictures of their kids, and on and on.

When I finally got all of them on shelves categorized as “College” and “photo albums and yearbooks,” I came across another genre … my old journals.

Uh-oh …

Abandoning all illusions that this would be a quick job, I sank into one of the kids’ TV chairs on the floor and opened one. I would just read a little, then get back to work …

Wow.

I scarcely recognized the person who had written this drivel. I remembered the people mentioned, the circumstances that I had written about, but oh my – !

I was a moody woman then, to say the least. For someone with a relatively easy life, I had written with great passion about my journey into self-discovery … with the emphasis on self. What I discovered reading was that I was utterly self-centered: a self-conscious, self-loathing, self-important, self-pitying drama queen. (In my defense, I did major in drama at the university, but still … !)

I was so thoroughly disgusted with the young lady that had written this self-obsessed garbage that I didn’t see the silver lining for a while. Then it dawned on me –

I’m not that person any more!

Now my days begin with thanking God for one thing after another. Once I’ve given Him my body, mind, and heart (again) I’m seeing the bright side (“divine perspective?”) of everything. If a friend rejects my invitation to do something, I’ll call another friend. If nobody wants or is able to get together with me, instead of sinking into a pit of “what’s wrong with me?” depression, I get excited.  Jesus want me all to Himself today! And I eagerly look forward to seeing what He has in store, whom He might bring across my path, and what He’s going to teach me about the world and the people around me.

Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t think for a moment that I have “arrived.” I sometimes get discouraged with my lack of visible growth and have to remind myself that God’s grace covers my faults – that Jesus died so my sins could be forgiven, and that He’s not going to give up on me now.

I still have a LOT of growing to do. But that day I found the journals the Lord showed me that while daily growth has usually been imperceptible, over time He has brought me a long way. I’m so much happier now than I was 35 years ago.

(And no doubt the people around me are, too.)

Prayer: Lord, thank You for not giving up on me. Because of Your patient working in me, I am not what I was. But I’m not yet what I will be. I gladly yield myself to You (again) and trust You to grow me in the sunshine of your grace. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

 

 

 

   Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written:                                                                                                                                                  ‘He will command his angels concerning you,                                                                           and they will lift you up in their hands,                                                                                       so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.'”       Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'”

                                                                                                              Matthew 4:5-7

The other night, as usual, the majority of the news concerned the Corona virus. Locally, we were informed how many new cases had cropped up in the Louisville area. Most disconcerting was the statement that one of the infected people was refusing to self isolate.

I wondered what type of individual would take such a stand. Someone with no concern for anyone but himself? A conspiracy theorist convinced that the Corona virus is a hoax? Or someone so impressed with his own importance that he thinks the world will fall apart without him?

This morning another possibility occurred to me. Oh Lord, I hope this isn’t some misguided Christian trying to make a point about faith!

Historically, Christians have been known to respond to an epidemic differently from the average person. The Antonine Plague in the Roman Empire during the second century reached a point where 2,000 people were dying every day. The sick were being abandoned by their leaders, physicians, and even their families. Meanwhile, the Christians were staying and caring for the sick, including their pagan neighbors. *

About a hundred years later (250-270 A.D.) another plague hit, believed to be measles or smallpox. This time 5,000 people per day were dying in Rome alone, and again the Christians were the ones staying to help the afflicted. Emperor Decius tired to blame these believers for the plague, but considering they were dying along with everyone else, how many truly believed it? *

Examples of Christian selflessness throughout history are as recent as Mother Teresa’s missionaries, who devote their lives to caring for dying lepers. This is Christian faith at its best.

Back to last night’s news… Deliberately exposing other people to a disease is the opposite of these! It is being willing to risk someone else’s life for the sake of one’s own convenience. The one is heroic, the other despicable. If I could speak to that person refusing to quarantine himself/herself, I would say:

“Sir (or Ma’am), if you have been tested positive for the Corona virus (or any other contagious disease), you are not engaging in an act of great faith – or bravery or greatness – by refusing to be quarantined. You are engaging in an act of total selfishness. Get over yourself. Stay home.”

Besides this act of recklessness, I’ve seen two other counterproductive ways of responding to this pandemic. One is to react in panic. We’ve seen it displayed in grocery stores by people who take every last package of toilet paper, or every last can of soup leaving none for the rest of us. I’ve even seen footage of screaming brawls. These are prime examples of how fear can turn normal people into selfish animals. I sincerely hope that no one who professes to trust Christ has engaged in that kind of behavior.

Another bad response I’ve seen that shows up on the news a lot these days is grabbing hold of the issue and exploiting it for political purposes, widening the division this country already has. Perhaps they think pointing a finger will help. But the Blame Game only stirs up more anger.

Before giving way to any more knee-jerk reactions, please note:

Fear and rage wreak havoc on the immune system.

The best way for a Christian to avoid these two health hazards is to remain calm, follow reasonable guidelines to protect yourself and others, and look to God for protection, strength, and peace. As a fellow blogger pointed out, one of three things will happen: (1) You won’t get the disease, (2) you’ll get it and recover, or (3) you’ll get it and go to be with Jesus. For the Christian it’s “win-win-win.”

If you aren’t a Christian, my advice is, become one, A.S.A.P. No, I’m not joking. See my post from last week, “We’re All Going To Die,” ** because like it or not, we are. Really. Maybe soon, maybe not, but it’s going to happen. Why not be prepared now?

If you are a health care worker and must be around the elderly, including those infected with the virus, God bless you! Our prayers are with you. If you are healthy and like the early Christians you truly believe God is leading you to put your life on the line to help sick, God bless you! Our prayers are with you. If you believe you may have Corona virus, please show your love for others by distancing yourself from them. Our prayers are with you, too.

For those of us in isolation, some things to think about: When was the last time you were able to spend a solid hour in prayer without keeping one eye on the clock? When was the last time you were able to sit quietly listening for God’s Still, Small Voice? When was the last time you sensed His sheer delight in having you in His presence? Don’t let the coming days be wasted. Solitude can be a blessing when used well.

(Besides, a child of God is never truly alone.)

Prayer: Heavenly Father, we are so accustomed to running around from one activity to another that being still seems strange to us. And yet You told Your disciples “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”[Mark 6:31] I believe You are extending that invitation to us, even today in the midst of the Corona outbreak. Help us quiet our hearts and hear Your voice, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

*https://www.christianpost.com/news/running-toward-the-plague-christians-and-ebola.html

** https://wordpress.com/post/seekingdivineperspective.com/986

 

“Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”   Matthew 28: 19

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

So … How much do you really know about St. Patrick?

Try taking this four-question quiz. Whatever your score, you will probably learn something new. And there’s a prize at the end!

(Answers follow each question, so don’t scroll down until you’ve tried to answer each! Then have fun seeing if you can stump your friends.)

1.) What was Patrick’s nationality?

A.) Irish                                                                                                                                                   B.) American                                                                                                                                          C.) British                                                                                                                                              D) French

Answer: C. Patrick was born in Britain and grew up on the coast of Wales.

2.) How did Patrick end up in Ireland? 

A.) He ran away from home.                                                                                                          B.)He was kidnapped by pirates.                                                                                                     C.) His drunken father lost him to Irish gypsies in a card game.

D.) He went to the University of Dublin.

Answer: B At the age of sixteen Patrick was captured by Irish pirates and sold into slavery.

3.) After escaping, why would Patrick want to go back to where he had been a slave?

A.) He wanted to take revenge on his master and free the other slaves.

B.) To kill the snakes infesting Ireland.

C.) He wanted to conquer Ireland for Wales.

D.) He wanted to evangelize the Irish.

Answer: D. Patrick had become a committed Christian. He had had visions and dreams about sharing his faith with the Irish pagans. As a Christian, not only was he given the supernatural ability to forgive years of slavery, but he wanted the Irish to have the same blessings he had. Hence, Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland.

4) Why is the shamrock the symbol of St. Patrick?   

A.) It was an object lesson                                                                                                                 B) Irish children welcomed Patrick with shamrocks

C) Shamrocks in Ireland were infested with snakes.

D) According to legend, shamrocks sprang up overnight to cover Patrick’s first church in green, symbolizing life.

Answer: A. In explaining the Trinity, Patrick used the shamrock to illustrate one God in three Persons:

1. God the Father, creator of all things,
2. Jesus, His Son, who died to save Mankind from sin and death, and
3. the Holy Spirit, sent from God to live inside believers

(P.S. Snakes are not and have never been indigenous to Ireland.)

If Saint Patrick were standing  here today holding a shamrock, he would tell you that

1. God the Father loves you and wants to be your Father. You can be adopted into His family by believing in
2. Jesus, His Son, who died on the Cross to save us all from our sin. Sin can’t just be swept under the carpet – somebody must pay the price, and Jesus paid your debt in full! Just think – He loves you so much, He was willing to go to the cross so that you wouldn’t have to spend eternity away from Him! By repenting of your sins and believing in Him, you can not only “born again” into the family of God, you escape eternal death and be can be filled with …
3. the Holy Spirit, the third Person of the Trinity. He will help you discern right and wrong and give you the strength to do the right things – even things you couldn’t do before.
   

   You can live the life you were created to live.   That’s the prize!                                                                                                                                          And here’s another prize:

                                                                                                                                                 Those who believe in Christ are promised ETERNAL LIFE. So, we don’t even need to fear death! Jesus rose from the dead, and because He did, those who believe in Him will, too.

   (That’s way better than green beer, which has absolutely nothing to do with Saint Patrick.) If all this is new to you, and if it’s what you want for your life, you can pray a simple prayer to receive salvation through Jesus:

   Father, I confess that I am a sinner in need of forgiveness. Jesus, thank You for paying the price for my sins on the Cross. I believe in Your life, death, and resurrection, and Your promise of eternal life. Holy Spirit, thank You for filling me. Help me to live as I was created to live. I Jesus’ name, amen.

   Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

   Happy FOREVER!

Prayer: Father, thank You for showing us the signs of Your hand at work throughout history, as You did a miraculous, forgiving work in St. Patrick. May the story of my life give You glory, too. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

 

 

“When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”                                                                                                                                                Luke 18:8b.

I hope the title of this week’s post didn’t cause alarm. I’m guessing readers will have one of two reactions:

Some will roll their eyes and conclude, “She’s hysterical.”

Others will respond, “Duh.”

If I maybe Captain Obvious for a moment:

Life is finite.

While some people are panicking over toilet paper, hand sanitizers, and food supplies, the debate rages over whether the Corona virus is a major threat or political hype.

People like my husband Marty, a research engineer, are using reason and math, comparing statistics from past epidemics and graphs of countries where the virus has hit its peak and is starting to decline. For the record, he isn’t panicking. We are keeping our hands clean as much as possible. But then, we always have.

People like me are looking at the cancellations and making plans to spend more time at home, catching up on reading, writing, and relaxing with Marty and Netflix. Sunday morning church will be live streamed, and my friends and I will keep in touch via technology. So far I have no complaints.

The other day someone was saying, “One good outcome of this Corona virus is that people are becoming more aware …”

In the split second before he finished the sentence these thoughts went careening through my mind at the speed of light:

… becoming more aware of their mortality. Like it or not, each of us is going to die. As much as we avoid thinking about it, life will end for every one of us. Then what? We do so much planning for this split-second life on earth, we need to plan for eternity.

This is what I was hoping he was going to say. But to my disappointment, the rest of the sentence was “… aware of hand washing and other ways of preventing the spread of disease.”

Well, that, too, I thought with a sigh.

But let’s get back to my point. Please.

When I was teaching a Sunday school class based on my book, BARRIERS (So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?), I was teaching on priorities – the fact that we often pray for things that are relatively unimportant while neglecting the things that are crucial from an eternal perspective.

I set a jar of sand on the podium. Taking one grain on the tip of my finger, I pointed out that it was pretty small compared with the whole jar of sand, very small compared to the beach where I had scooped it up that morning. Then I asked the class to consider how small it was compared with all the sand that exists on this planet – beaches, sand dunes, Sahara Desert, bottom of the ocean … ! The thought was mind-boggling.

“But,” I continued, “that grain of sand compared with all the sand in the world is still bigger than this life compared with eternity.”

I paused to let that fact sink in.

“So … where are we focusing most of our attention?”

I’m not suggesting we be “so heavenly minded we’re no earthly good.” Looking forward to getting this life over with and getting our rewards is the wrong way to think about eternity. So is the selfish hoarding of resources so we can survive longer than everybody else. It’s not setting dates, shutting down life, and waiting on some mountain for the Lord’s return.

Jesus made it very clear, when He returns He wants to find faith in us, exhibited in our diligently serving Him.  We serve Him by being like Him, by letting His spirit work through us by loving others. This is not neglecting the present life, but living it to the full.

Meanwhile, people are scared, especially people who until now have given eternity little or no thought. Coming face-to-face with our own mortality isn’t fun, but it’s necessary. The Corona virus can serve as a wake-up call to get us to realize our time here is limited! We don’t do ourselves any favors by ignoring that inconvenient fact. The worst thing that can happen to us isn’t dying of the Corona virus, it’s dying without being prepared.

So, how do we prepare for the eventual, inevitable encounter with eternity?

The first thing to do is acknowledge that God is God and we aren’t. Our sin has separated us from Him, keeping us from heaven. (Imperfect people would corrupt a perfect heaven.) The solution to our sins isn’t doing enough good works to make up for them – that’s impossible. We need to be forgiven and cleansed. Jesus Christ, God’s Son, paid the price for our forgiveness by dying on the cross.

Stop trying to hide from Him. Come to Him, admitting that you are a sinner and can’t make it on your own.

Acknowledge Jesus as your Savior. Ask Him to come into your life, changing you and conforming you to His image.

Then believe it, thank Him for saving you, and ask His Spirit to fill you and guide you in living the Christian life.

You are going to die. I am going to die. I can’t tell you whether it will be two weeks from now from the Corona virus, twenty years from now of cancer, or this afternoon in a car crash. I can tell you there’s nothing to be gained from avoiding the issue, distracting yourself by making survival preparations, or hunkering down in your home. You can’t hide from God.

The good news is, you don’t need to! He loves you enough to die for you. He is risen and is waiting to give you new life. Come to Him today.

Prayer: Dear Lord, thank You for your incredible love. You didn’t shrink from death but gave Yourself up for our salvation. Whatever happens, we look to You to save us. We are Yours, and we are in good hands. In Jesus’ name, amen.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.                                                                                                                                                                            Romans 8:28

“When I was diagnosed with arthritis in my hands, I was devastated. Still in my forties, I was in no way prepared for what I considered an “old person’s disease.” I played both piano and guitar, and music was a huge part of my life. Losing the use of my fingers was unthinkable. Whatever else I was focused on, for months after that first diagnosis there was a steady undercurrent of fear, as the thought of my deteriorating hands never fully left my mind.

“Lying awake one night, I was “checking” my hands as I often did in those days – opening and closing them to see which fingers were stiff and whether I could still make a tight fist. I began to pray, reminding the Lord (as if He needed reminding!) how I needed those hands – how my music ministered to the cancer patients, nursing home residents, and children at V.B.S. I reminded Him of the occasional “special music” or offertory I would do at church and how I used songs as a springboard to tell people about Him.

Suddenly in the middle of my whiny spiritual resume, God’s sovereignty crashed my pity party, settling in my mind in the form of two statements:

1. If God wants to use my hands, He’ll keep them usable.
2. If He doesn’t want or need to use them, then IT DOESN’T MATTER.*

At those freeing word, “It doesn’t matter,” I remember feeling the stress drain away as I drifted off to sleep. For years after that I continued to play my guitar and piano, trusting that I would be able to do so for as long as God wished.

Fast forward a decade or so …

One summer my hands took a sudden turn for the worse. Knuckles were achy and swollen, and playing the guitar was just too painful to attempt. It was a glorious Michigan summer, too glorious to be inside playing the piano, especially when I could step outside my door and sit under a tree, gazing out over Lake Huron. It was my favorite place to worship God, and though I usually did that vocally with my guitar, I also spent time in prayer and reading my Bible, caressed by the warm breezes.

A few years earlier my dear husband Marty had given me a Celtic harp for our anniversary. It was an easy instrument for me to pick up, as the strings corresponded to the white keys on a piano. But since it wasn’t as versatile as a guitar, (It’s hard to rock out or sing country on a harp.) I usually ended up playing the guitar.

But this summer, unable to play my guitar, I dusted off my harp instead. It had clearly been neglected. The strings should have been replaced long ago, and some of the levers for changing keys were loose from frequent use. I bought new strings and took off the old ones. Marty helped me remove the levers, in spite of my misgivings about not being able to get them back on. We moved the loose levers to correspond with the strings I never adjusted anyway and put the tight ones where I would often use them to change keys. (If that makes no sense to non Celtic harp players, no matter. The point is, I could now tune individual strings without their going flat in the middle of a song.)

Once we put the new strings on the harp, they needed to be re-tuned for several days until they were sufficiently stretched out. After that I was able to play and sing to my heart’s content. Songs that go well with a harp, especially outside in the sunshine by a lake, are “Fairest Lord Jesus,” and “This Is My Father’s World,” as well as “The Wedding Song,” which brought back fond memories of our own lakeside wedding years ago. I taught myself some newer songs that I loved but had never tried before, along with my old “harp favorites” – “You Raise Me Up” and “Wind beneath My Wings.”

As the summer went on, my harp repertoire grew, and I scarcely missed playing the guitar. Neighbors would tell me how much they enjoyed the worship music wafting through their yards, (I didn’t know harp music carried that far!) including my Muslim next-door neighbor and her friends, as well as the Jewish family two doors down.

I was asked a couple of times to do “special music” at church, and by the end of the summer I had been asked to play and sing for a wedding. Later I was asked by a guest at that wedding to sing at HER daughter’s wedding. It seems people liked the idea of harp music at a wedding, possibly more than guitar.

I don’t remember how many “gigs” I had with my harp that summer, but it was clear to me that this was what the Lord wanted me to do for that season. Later my hands improved to where I was able to play guitar again, but I made sure I kept up my harp playing, too.

As I pointed out in my last blog, sometimes limitations can, in fact, be freeing. They can also open up new doors, or doors that we just wouldn’t see otherwise, as we’re too busy doing the things we do, “because we can.” (Or because we’re in a rut?)

Sometimes when we think God is saying “No,” He’s really saying, “Let’s do something new!”

Prayer: Lord, You know what’s best for us much better than we do! When Your guidance involves blocking the paths You don’t want us to take, help us not to react in self-pity, but rather to look for Your plan to unfold in ways we haven’t seen before. Amen.

*from an earlier piece, “Two Perspectives on Hands,” posted January 24, 2018

Today is my 67th birthday. Looking back I realize how much life has changed. When I was younger, I did a lot of things I no longer do.

Life is so much better now.

 

I run in the path of your commands,

                  for you have set my heart free!          –  Psalm 119:32

 

There was time when it was believed among some education elites that children would learn better without boundaries, rules, or structure. The “open classroom” was an idea that despised the notion of an authority figure telling children what to do.

During this time the school board in one town decided that fences around the elementary school playground were too confining, and that the children needed to feel the freedom of an open area for their recesses.

When the fences were removed, the “experts” were surprised to find that the children tended to huddle in a space that was smaller than their original playground. Being unsure of the boundaries wasn’t making the children feel free, it was making them feel insecure. Not being sure just how far they were allowed to go to play, they stayed in the middle of the yard.

When the fence was returned, the children were back to playing right up to it, some of them leaning against the chain links, apparently feeling secure again.*

For all the world’s talk of freedom and the idea that everyone should be permitted to do what he or she pleases, there is something ingrained within us that knows that left on our own, we don’t always make the best choices. And in a world where no two people agree on everything, total “freedom” would result in utter chaos. Hence, we look for guidelines, boundaries, someone who is more experienced than we are who can advise us.

(Oh my. Did I just say we’re looking for an authority figure to tell us what to do??)

When you think of it, there are people who get paid money to do just that: fitness coaches, consultants, psychiatrists, dietitians, and teachers.

An adolescent may shout “Don’t tell me what to do!” one moment, and next moment, in a panic, whimper, “Mom, what should I do?” (Not that I would know this from personal experience…)

Psalm 119, the longest chapter in the Bible, is a poem praising the virtues of the Law of the LORD. To some it might seem strange for someone to use words to describe the Law that are usually reserved for praising a lover or hero, or God Himself. But the writer of this Psalm was overcome with love for God’s law. (“I rejoice in following your statutes, as one who rejoices in great riches. … I delight in your decrees.”) Why such ardent devotion to and delight in old scrolls full of rules and regulations? Does anyone really love being told what to do that much?

It might help to imagine the opposite of structure and rules: a world where anything goes, and choices are infinite. I, for one, would be in a constant state of indecision. I would also be perpetually stressed out, second guessing myself at every turn. It would be the emotional equivalent to standing in quicksand or drifting in weightlessness with nothing to hold onto.

I’ve found that even living a “good” life there is such a thing as too many choices. How many things do I do simply “because I can”? How many times have I mentally clicked on “all of the above” when faced with a long list of possibilities?  How often have I looked back on a myriad of activities and not been able to remember truly enjoying any of them? And how often have I become burned out from trying to cram too many things into too little time?

As I have grown older – and, I hope, wiser – I have experienced some of the typical limitations, mainly the aches, pains, and stiffness from arthritis. For about twenty years of my life I ran about 4 miles every day, not really enjoying it but thinking it was good for me. Ironically, so much running in cheap shoes on hard surfaces depleted the cartilage in my knees. Bad knees began to limit my activities. I quit playing tennis, with its sudden stopping, starting, and turning, before I quit running. But eventually it became obvious that running was counterproductive, as well. I now have more hours in the day to do things that I enjoy more and, frankly, things I am better at.

Recently I was on my way to pick up my granddaughters from school, and as I drove through the park, I saw people playing tennis. I smiled and found myself thinking smugly, I don’t have to do that any more. I used to play tennis mainly because other people liked it and thought I should, too. (“It’s a beautiful day, you should be out there.”) I didn’t mind tennis for an hour or two a week, but to be honest, it wasn’t my “thing.” Hitting a tennis ball was something I did while thinking about things that were more important to me.

(Before I get too many comments regarding the benefits of exercise – three times a week I listen to audio books at the gym while I work out on the weight resistance and ellyptical machines. My husband and I walk, bike, and/or kayak together most days.  And  I’m enjoying exercise more more – the scenery is better, too.)

I’ve learned to take sickness more in stride, as well. The last few times I’ve been too sick to go out, too contagious to babysit the grandkids, and too hoarse even to “get things done” on the phone, I have been forced to stay home alone with God, and after connecting with Him, I ended up getting more writing done than I ever could on a “normal” day. Since writing is my passion, these limitations turned out to be a blessing.

I’m hoping that as I continue to grow wiser I’ll have the confidence and self-discipline to make good choices based on right priorities, and God won’t have to help me out by eliminating the wrong options Himself!

Prayer: Lord, we can be foolish, blind, and indecisive. We are like sheep needing boundaries in our lives, boundaries established by Someone who loves us. Thank You for being our Good Shepherd, and thank You that though we are prone to wander, we are never lost from You. Amen

* https://amotherfarfromhome.com/what-makes-kids-insecure/

 

 

“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they’ll be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”                                 Matthew 6:7&8

 

I was uncomfortable seeing Kelly leave to go back to school after Easter break. It wasn’t just that it was starting to snow. Snow wasn’t unusual for early spring in Michigan. Kelly was upset about something, and I was concerned the stress would cause her to be distracted. But she was eighteen, and it was not my call to make.

“Drive carefully,” we said, hugging her.

“I will,” she promised.

Kelly’s little car, “Phoebe” was in the shop, so she was borrowing our minivan. Along with her suitcase, she had a very large, old television. Her brother had tried to sell the monstrosity, but since most of the population had discovered flat screen TVs, he hadn’t found anyone willing to haul it away, much less buy it. So we had decided it belonged in the family summer home on the other side of the state.

Meanwhile, Marty’s sister had heard that her niece was heading in that direction, so she asked if Kelly could take her new patio furniture cushions as far as school. Marty and I planned to pick up Phoebe later, drive to the college, trade vehicles with Kelly, and drive the rest of the way to the lake house in the minivan.  So over, under, and around the other cargo were stuffed about a dozen large cushions.

“Drive carefully,” I repeated, hugging Kelly one more time.

“I will,” she promised again.

So, as my daughter headed out with the loaded minivan, I whispered a prayer and quickly set about my work before I could start missing her.

Less than an hour later, we got the kind of call parents dread; there had been an accident.

On the way to the scene of the wreck, we passed an ambulance going the other way. After confirming that Kelly was in the ambulance, we turned around and made a beeline for the hospital.

Here’s what had happened, as Kelly later told us:

The snow was flying, but visibility was decent, as Kelly followed a slow-moving semi. After a few minutes of what felt like crawling, she pulled out to pass. Hitting an unexpected slick patch, the minivan was suddenly airborne. Kelly cried out one short prayer:

“Jesus, help me!“

The car landed on its side, rolled into the median and came to a stop, upside down. When the dust cleared, Kelly tried to reach for her phone, but it was out of reach, and she was unable to take off the seatbelt. 

She continued to cry out to God – or anyone within earshot – unsure how long she would be dangling there and already starting to feel cold. 

Less than two minutes later, Kelly heard what seemed like the voice of an angel, saying, “Hi there. I’m a paramedic. This is supposed to be my day off, but I guess I’m on duty today after all.” He told her to cover her head, and when she did he kicked in the already shattered window and helped her out. The next thing she knew, she was being taken to an ambulance, even though she insisted she wasn’t hurt.

When Marty and I got to the hospital, we were told that Kelly was being examined, and we were to wait. When we spotted her small form walking toward us in the hallway, she looked sheepish and upset – was she worried we’d be mad about the minivan?! We hurried to enfold her in a “group hug,” and she started to cry. We asked if she was hurt. She said no … well, except for a headache. Since Kelly had had migraines most of her life, we sighed and thought, What else is new? But this time there was another reason. The TV had been thrown toward the front seat, and from the bump on the back of her head, it had apparently made some kind of contact. But the fact that Kelly was still alive told us that her aunt’s cushions had achieved their purpose and put a thick, insulating layer between her and the projectile that could have killed her.

As we filled out the needed paperwork, Kelly was given some pain reliever for the headache and sent home. I didn’t want to act too glad that I got another day with my “BabyBear,” but I did laugh when she apologized for totaling my minivan. I assured her I really didn’t like the thing anyway and was looking forward to finding something a little cooler, now that my youngest was in college.

All our Facebook friends were treated to pictures of what was left of my car, and no one could believe that Kelly had come out with nothing more than a bump on the head. I was amazed myself, and grateful she had not been driving little Phoebe, which might not have shielded her quite as well. I’ve been quick to tell people about Kelly’s mid-air, 3-word prayer and the “angel” that appeared moments after the crash. Not to mention the extra cargo literally cushioning the blow. I see a strong connection between the prayer and the “lucky” details, and no one will ever convince me otherwise.

When I say a prayer I can sometimes get caught up in composing lengthy, eloquent masterpieces. Am I trying to impress God? If I could fathom just how much He loves me, I would remember that the main reason I pray is to join my heart with His; as I yield to Him, He aligns me with His will. Sometimes short, spontaneous prayers are enough.

Prayers like Please take care of her, Lord.

And “Jesus! Help me!”

Prayer: Lord, You know what I need, but You still want me to ask. Help me not to get caught up in words, but to keep my eyes on You.  … Okay, I’m done now, amen.

Originally published as “The Dream that Broke My Heart” when my blog was brand new (It had 2 “likes’ and one comment.), this piece seems fitting for Valentine’s Day. With all the thoughts of romance and “true love,” let us not forget our First Love – our Creator, Savior, Shepherd, King, Counselor, and Bridegroom – and keep Him first in our hearts, today and always.

“You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name and have not grown weary. Yet I hold this against you: you have forsaken your first love.”  – Revelation 2: 3-4

I dream a lot, although most of my dreams are forgotten before I get out of bed. But occasionally a dream is so vivid and hits so close to home that I know the Lord is telling me something, and I need to pay attention.

Dreams are not meant to reveal new theological truths; we have all the theology we need in the Bible. But when I have one of those significant dreams, it is a revelation that applies Scripture to me personally at that particular time in my life. God has used such dreams to encourage me, instruct me, rebuke me, or warn me. Jesus has appeared in my dreams in different roles, such as the Surgeon who was about to give me a heart transplant, or my Commanding Officer, reminding me to put on all of my armor before the coming battle. One dream stands out in my mind as one that I will never forget – nor should I. It cut me to the heart.

In my dream I was with my youngest child, our daughter Kelly, who was about seven at the time. My husband, for some reason, was in hiding, and Kelly and I were about to have a secret meeting with him. I had a basket with some beautiful purple fruit, which I was bringing him as a special treat, a token of my love and devotion. We were excited to see him and give him the gift, but on our way we kept running into people.

“What beautiful fruit!” a lady exclaimed, her eyes huge with amazement. “It looks delicious!”

“Have some!” I replied without hesitation, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Kelly give me a look as if to say, “Mom, what are you doing?!” But I had always had a reputation for being generous, and hey, I was just being nice to this acquaintance. As I held out the basket to her, she took the biggest piece of fruit, leaving just two remaining. With a quick, “Thanks!” she took a big bite and was gone in an instant.

I arranged the two remaining pieces, but there aren’t many ways to arrange two pieces of fruit. We had barely started out again when someone else commented on how gorgeous the fruit was. I immediately offered this person a piece, too, which he took without a “Thank you,” and he was gone. This time Kelly looked horrified, and I felt a little guilty. But this person had looked so hungry, I would have felt guilty saying “No.” With one piece of fruit left, we started again to make our way to my husband’s hiding place.

This time several people saw us, and it was so obvious that they wanted my fruit that I started to break the remaining piece into fragments, which I doled out to these strangers, who disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

With one mangled fragment of fruit left, I tried unsuccessfully to set it at an angle that made it look appealing, and said with exaggerated enthusiasm, “Come on, Kelly, let’s go give this to Daddy!” But my voice was so shaky that I wasn’t even convincing myself. Kelly, looking thoroughly disgusted, turned and walked away without a word, wanting nothing to do with my pathetic “gift.”

The phone interrupted the dream, and I answered it before I was completely awake. I recognized the voice at the other end as that of the secretary at my children’s school, and she sounded desperate. A teacher had called in sick, and she asked if I could possibly come in and sub. Still groggy, I mentally checked my calendar and guessed that I had no appointments that day.

“I don’t think I had any plans … sure,” I responded.

The secretary sounded relieved as she gushed her thanks, and for a brief moment I basked in her gratitude before she hung up to get back to other school business.

It was only then that I remembered the dream, and at the same time I remembered that I had made plans for that day! When I had realized that the day was wide open, I had decided that I would spend that day in prayer, Bible reading, singing, worshiping, journaling –  in other words, just spending unhurried time with Jesus. I think He had been looking forward to it as much as I had. But I had just impulsively committed the whole day elsewhere, and now I had to hit the floor running. I felt as though I had given away the biggest, best piece of fruit to someone for whom it has not been intended, and I felt ashamed.

The sting of shame intensified when I remembered the kind of fruit I had been so casually giving away in my dream…

It was passion fruit.

I broke down and sobbed.

Prayer: Jesus, my beloved Bridegroom, forgive me for the times I have put everything and everyone else ahead of You. I have valued the opinions of others more than my relationship with You. I have pleased others at the expense of serving You. I acknowledge my idolatry and confess it as sin. Your Word says that if I confess my sins, You are faithful and just to forgive my sins and purify me from all unrighteousness. Thank You for Your patience and forgiveness. Help me return to You, my First Love, and to give You all of my devotion, all of my passion, all of my life. In Your name, amen.

This piece was one of my first posts when I began blogging in January of 2018. At the time I had about a dozen followers. So in the interest of sharing it with the 300+ followers that have joined me since then, I’d like to share with you some Valentine’s Day thoughts from a couple of years ago …

 

Then the angel said to me, “Write, ‘Blessed are those who are invited

to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’”   Revelation 19:9

 

Well, it’s official: White Castle is taking reservations for Valentine’s Day.

I did a double-take as I passed the billboard, trying to imagine who would consider a meal at that establishment a romantic thing to do on Valentine’s Day. With all due respect to those who love and crave “sliders,” frankly the two thoughts “White Castle” and “romance” had never crossed my mind at the same time.

What do you picture when you think of a romantic dinner – white  linen tablecloth? Candlelight? Crystal, silver, and fine china? Soft music? I had to laugh, thinking of a couple sitting in hard plastic chairs, eating fries, and the girl trying hard to pretend she thought this was remotely elegant. (Am I just showing my age here?)

But then I thought of God’s perspective. (I was on my way to church, after all.) Jesus told us that our eyes haven’t seen, our ears haven’t heard, nor could we even imagine what He had prepared for those who love Him. (I Corinthians 2:9) That means, compared with the feast that awaits us in heaven, that candlelight dinner with all the luxuries attached is more like digging in a dumpster. And yet that “high-class” type of lifestyle is what so many people run after all their lives.

I’ve been there. I was raised in a country club culture from the time I was much too young to understand or appreciate what I was being given on a daily basis. And yet my first taste of what it was like to be a child of God – forgiven, saved, filled with His Spirit – awakened in me such a craving for more that I knew no private club, no amount of possessions or membership in a worldly “inner circle” could satisfy.

So, while I smirk and roll my eyes at the thought of a Valentine’s Day dinner at White Castle, I should be equally amused – or grieved – that so much of the world is “settling,” having no idea that “Better is one day in your [God’s] courts than a thousand elsewhere.” (Psalm 84:10)

 

Prayer: Jesus, our Beloved, our heavenly Bridegroom, help us to have our eyes and hearts fixed on You. Help us not to be distracted by the glitter of worldly things that will fade and decay, when You have promised so much more to those who love You. Let us live in eager anticipation of that day we are are joined with You forever, and the Wedding Feast has begun. In Your precious Name, Amen.

 

“It is appointed unto men once to die, and after this the judgment.”    Hebrews 9:27

As I mentioned in another post, I recently saw “Edge of Tomorrow,” the futuristic Tom Cruise film about an alien invasion threatening humanity, where a man is forced to relive the last day of his life over and over, until he figures out how to save his company – and the world.

Decades before “Edge of Tomorrow” a “same but different” film was released, which I can pretty much guarantee will be shown on at least one TV network this Sunday.

“Groundhog Day” is a movie about a journalist named Phil, who, for reasons that remain unexplained, must relive Groundhog Day until he “gets it right.” Both movies have scenes where a few moments of dialogue or action are shown repeatedly with variations of failures as the hapless men learn what not to do through a long process of elimination. While in “Edge of Tomorrow” the future of all of Mankind is threatened, in “Groundhog Day” what is at risk is merely one man’s self-esteem and winning his love interest.

(“Edge of Tomorrow” is “Groundhog Day” on steroids.)

What is it about the concept of time travel that fascinates us? Why do we fantasize about being able to go back in time, especially the opportunity to relive or reenact the past, to be able to “fix” mistakes? I’m guessing this desire is at the root of the concept of karma, the idea of living countless lives on one’s way to enlightenment and the ultimate goal, “nirvana.”

But each day passes only once, and regret over the past is one of the most excruciating emotions known to man. The sheer hopelessness of knowing that something done in the past can never be undone has driven many to despair. How many of us have said, “If only I could go back to that day, and change that one thing, everything would be so different now!”

But time is one thing Man has no control over, and as much as we may want to fix the past, there are no “do-overs” in life. While we may not be able to go back and correct the past, we can make the right choices now. And we don’t have to flounder about finding out what the “right” choices are by endless trial and error. The Bible – the Word of God – gives us clear directions about what to do with our messed-up lives.

First, we must acknowledge our sin and need for a savior. (I John 1:9) We must repent, (or as my GPS says, “Turn around when possible“), and place our faith in Jesus as the One who paid the price for our sins when He died on the cross. (I Peter 2:24) If we do this, He will forgive us, save us, and help us live better lives from this moment on.

The Bible is filled with stories of people who have made horrendous mistakes, seemingly fatal blunders, and outright deliberate evil, who nevertheless after repenting had their lives transformed by the grace of God. Apparently, if you’re still breathing, it’s not too late. Ask the thief that was crucified next to Jesus. (Luke 21:41-43)

The Bible says we have one life, one chance to get it right, and it would be wise to listen to our Creator, especially when He has made His truth available to us. We can’t go back and undo our mistakes, but we don’t have to be stuck in the mistakes of the past, either. We can get unstuck and do what’s right, starting today.

One last note:  This doesn’t mean we will be perfect, but if we keep short accounts with God – confess and repent as soon as we realize we’ve messed up  – we can enjoy a relationship with Him that will last all our lives here – and into eternity! (John 3:16)

“Now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.” (II Corinthians 6:2)

Prayer: Lord God of the past, present, and future, thank You for giving us Your Word to guide us through life. Thank You for forgiving us when we blow it and for helping us up when we stumble. Thank You that we don’t have to wallow in regrets over the past, but rather rejoice in Your grace and move on to a brighter future with You, in the name of Jesus, who died to pay for our sins and set us free. Amen