Lori Hatcher's Blog: Refresh Blog, page 50

What We Have in Common with Mary Magdalene

Have you ever known someone who knew everything about 
you . . . but loved you anyway? 

That was Jesus. 

I’d heard him preach. Lots of times, from a distance. He talked about the kingdom of heaven, and oh, he made it sound so wonderful – like he’d been there, just the other day . . . “In my father’s house are many mansions. . .” 

But I knew I’d never see it. Too many sins. And too many demons, always at war within me. I followed him, but on the outskirts. He drew me in spite of myself. 

I watched him laugh with the little children. I could tell he loved them. You can’t fake that. He’d gather them up in his arms and hold them close, then he’d whisper something in their ear. And they’d smile. Every time. 

I watched how he walked among the people – sick people, blind people, lepers even, and healed them. Why would he, a rabbi, touch them? They were unclean. Outcasts. The slum dogs of society. 

And then he cast the demon out of that little boy. It was then I began to hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could help me. 

So I waited. Until he went to Simon’s house. 

 And I brought my most precious treasure – ointment for his head. But when I cracked it open, my heart cracked open too. Standing there, Him so pure and holy, and me so unclean. How could I dare to stand in his presence? 

My knees gave way, and I crumpled to the ground, oil sloshing onto his feet. He was looking at me – everyone was looking at me – but I couldn’t raise my eyes. My sin stood hopelessly between us. 

But then I remembered the blind man, and the lame man, and the leper. And my heart cracked open more. I began to weep, my tears mingling with the dust on his feet. 

That dirt – I knew it was a picture of my sin. This God/Man had walked the world and allowed the sin of the world to cling to him, yet it never became part of him. 

The more I sobbed, the more my repentant tears flowed. I knew I was making a scene, but I couldn’t help it. The fragrance of the oil permeated the room as I rubbed it onto his feet. My tears made silver trails on his dark skin. “ 

“Leave her alone. . . . she’s anointing me for my burial.” 

I heard his words, but they sounded far away, otherworldly. 

These feet . . . feet that had walked a hundred miles to search for the lost sheep of Israel. I loved these feet – the the part of him that was most like me – soiled. And calloused. And . . . human. I kissed them over and over again as gratitude filled my heart to bursting. 

 “Simon.” His voice again – tender and tired. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” 

Then Simon’s voice, squirmy and self-righteous. “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.” 

 The tears, and the oil, and the dirt had puddled around those sacred feet. I reached for a towel, only to find I had none. Desperate to clean the mess I’d made, I fumbled with the tie that held my hair back. Grabbing a handful of my hair, I wiped frantically at the fragrant mess, trying to remove the evidence of my bold indiscretion. 

“I came into your house,” I heard him say to Simon. “You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet.” 

I felt his fingers, rough from work, touch my face. Tenderly he raised my chin. I wanted to run, but a force stronger than fear held me in place. I waited for the condemnation I knew would come. 

 “I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” 

I heard his words, but they made no sense. “Your sins are forgiven,” he repeated to my disbelieving ears. 

“Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.” 

As we move ever closer to Easter, it’s good to walk in the footsteps of Jesus. 

As we follow him to the cross, it’s appropriate to ask: Have you ever seen your sin for what it is? Not a mistake or an indiscretion, but the thing that stands between you and a holy God? 

Have you, like Mary Magdalene, come to Christ in humility and repentance, wanting only to be cleansed? 

Have you believed, by faith, that Jesus has the power to forgive your sin and transform your life? '

Have you accepted his gift of forgiveness? 

If you have, then the words Christ spoke to Mary belong to you as well: 

“Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

If you’d like to share what God has done in your life, I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment below and join the conversation. If you’re reading by email, CLICK HERE to visit Hungry for God online and leave a comment.
(You can find this story in Luke 7:36-48.)



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

Beloved Unbelievers -- How to Pray for Them

Think of a person you care about who doesn’t know Christ as their Savior.

If you’re like me, every time you think of this person, your heart aches. You know if they don’t accept Christ, they will die and spend eternity in hell. This frightens me—that someone I love could spend eternity separated from God (and from me). May it never be.

But the reality is that one day we will all stand before the judgment seat of Christ and give an account. The entrance exam to heaven has one question: 

In whom are you trusting?

There’s only one right answer: “I’m trusting in Jesus Christ as my Savior.”

For years I couldn’t give that answer. The best I could do was hope my good works outweighed my bad works on judgment day. Some of my acquaintances, friends, and loved ones can’t give this answer because they haven’t yet come to faith in Jesus Christ. They’re still trusting in their works to get them into heaven. They don’t understand the truth of Ephesians 2:8-9:

“For by grace you have been saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is a gift of God, not of works, lest any man shall boast.”

Because I love them, I witness to them, serve them, and do my best to demonstrate God’s love to them. But the most important thing I can do is to pray for them. 

I ask God to open their hearts to believe. Scripture tells us that no one comes to God unless the Father draws him (John 6:65), so it makes sense to ask God to draw our loved ones to himself and open their hearts to believe.

The book of Acts tells of a woman named Lydia. She was a religious woman who was trying to worship God as best she knew how. But she hadn’t trusted Jesus as her Savior. Paul shared the Gospel with her, like we should with our unbelieving loved ones. And then something miraculous happened. Acts 16:14 describes it this way:

“The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul's message.” 

Apart from God opening a person’s heart to believe, the message of the Gospel falls on deaf ears. The spiritually dead cannot receive the life-giving truths of Scripture unless God opens their hearts. This is what we should pray for.

The take away from Acts 16 is simple: Pray for the people you love who don’t know Christ as their Savior. And when you pray, ask God to open their hearts. Pray and don’t stop.

“For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved” (Rom. 10:10).

If you leave your loved one's first name in the comment box below, I'd be honored to pray for them.



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

I Discovered Billy Graham's Secret

I discovered Billy Graham’s secret. 

At least one of them. 

Estimates of his 70+ years of successful ministry say he shared the gospel with more than two billion people. 

Think about that for a moment. 

Two billion people. 

Billy Graham was a man of integrity. And great faith. And moral strength. And a hundred other virtues. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was a godly man – a man God blessed. 

Did you know Graham once turned down a lucrative Hollywood acting role? 

Yup. Cecile B. DeMille, along with Frank Freeman, president of Paramount Studios, offered him a chance to star in a remake of the movie, The Ten Commandments.

“I looked him straight in the eye,” Graham said, “. . . and told him that God had called me to preach the gospel, and that I would never do anything else as long as I lived.” *

“Presidents Johnson and Nixon offered him high positions in government — which he quickly and politely refused.”** 


These answers reveal Billy Graham’s secret to success – his single-minded focus. He knew God had called him to preach the gospel. In light of his calling, he held every decision – including whether to act in a Hollywood movie or accept a cabinet position in Washington – to the plumb line of that calling. 

He asked the question, “Will this help me fulfill my calling?” 

If the answer was yes, he did it. If the answer was no, he didn’t. 

Pretty simple, huh? 

Step One: Determine your calling. 

Step Two: Make every decision – how to spend your time, energy, and resources – based on whether or not it supports that calling. 

What would our lives look like if we employed Billy Graham’s approach? 

I suspect they would be much more effective. And satisfying. And productive. 

I really want that. 

Don’t you? 

"And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified" (1 Cor. 2:1-2).

Now it's your turn? What is your calling in life? What should you say yes to in order to fulfill it? What should you say no to? I'd love to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment below. And if you're reading via email, click HERE to visit Hungry for God online and comment.


* Billy Graham's autobiography, Just As I Am
** https://billygraham.org/story/billy-graham-pastor-to-presidents-2/



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

Rev. Billy Graham - My Regret

When I heard Billy Graham had died, I was happy and sad at the same time. 


I also felt a profound sense of regret. 

I was happy for Reverend Graham. He’d fought the good fight, finished his race, and received his crown. The Lord Jesus, whom he had proclaimed without compromise for so many years, had declared, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of the Lord.” What a scene that must have been. 

I remember Anne Graham Lotz’ answer to me when, during an interview, I’d asked about her father. “He sleeps a lot. He’s tired. He misses mama.” 

I’m glad, for Rev. Graham’s sake, that, in his own words, he’s now “more alive than he’s ever been.” And he’s reunited with his beloved wife and his precious Savior. 

I also felt sadness. A great man – a champion of the cause of Christ – lived no longer among us. Although he hadn’t ministered publicly in years, just knowing he still lived gave me courage. I’ve always been comforted, whenever I’d hear of another pastor who’d fallen into immorality, that Billy Graham was scandal-free. He proved it could be done, that you could live your whole life without bringing shame to the name of Jesus. His godly example gave me hope. 

And then there was the regret. The bitter pill you can never cough up. 

Billy Graham came to South Carolina, where I’ve lived for more than 30 years, twice. The first time was back in 1950, from February 19 to March 12. He preached most of his sermons at the Township Auditorium, but also held one large event at what was then Carolina Stadium, but is now Williams-Brice Stadium. It's estimated he evangelized over 180,000 people during that crusade. 

My father was one of them. He was 14 years old. 

Reverend Graham preached again in Columbia in 1987, from April 25 to May 2. 

I didn’t attend. 

This is my regret. 

I was a young believer then. I’d been saved for less than five years. The church I attended was passionate about sharing the gospel. My husband was the first teenager who came to faith under its witness. 

Fiercely committed to the truth of Scripture, this church struggled with Billy Graham’s willingness to work with all denominations, even those that didn’t preach what Scripture made clear – that the only way to heaven is through faith in Jesus Christ – plus nothing. 

“When a person accepts Christ at one of his crusades,” the church leaders said, “he tells them to go to church. But he doesn’t tell them to go to a Bible-believing church, one that teaches that faith in Christ alone is what’s necessary for salvation. Those people will be led astray.” 

While our pastors didn’t specifically say we shouldn’t attend the crusade, they made it very clear that they disapproved. My husband and I, as new believers, eager to do what was right, chose not to attend. 

I’ve often regretted that decision. 

Now that I’ve walked with Jesus for many years, I’ve learned a few things that would have helped me make a different choice. 

I’ve learned that the Holy Spirit is trustworthy. That if he saves someone, he’s also able to complete the work that began at salvation. I believe if someone is attending a church that doesn’t teach the Bible and gets saved, God will either lead them out or make them a missionary to that church. 

I’ve learned that while there’s only one way to heaven, there are a bazillion ways to share the gospel. Billy Graham’s way was one of them. One very effective way, I might add, one that God blessed tremendously. Who’s to say that our way is the only right way? 

The apostle Paul addressed this in his letter to the Philippians. “It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so in love, knowing that I am put here (in jail) for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice. Yes, and I will continue to rejoice” (Phil. 1:15-18). 

And I’ve learned that we should trust our spiritual leaders, but we shouldn’t follow them blindly. We should weigh their advice against the infallible Word of God, then seek God’s will for our lives through prayer and additional wise counsel. 

While I can’t undo the decision I made 30 years ago, I can learn from it. I’ve learned to trust the Holy Spirit, be gracious toward those who serve God differently than I, and allow God’s Word to be the final authority in every decision I make. 

As I rejoiced at Dr. Billy Graham’s homegoing, mourned the loss of him, and regretted that I missed an opportunity to hear him preach in my hometown, God gave me a sweet gift. Through the wonders of technology and YouTube, I found a video of one of the sermons he preached during his crusade in Columbia. 

Instantly I was transported back to 1987. Big hair, big glasses, and a big God who redeems regrets and calls all mankind to himself. 

Now it’s your turn. Have you ever attended one of Dr. Graham’s crusades? Leave a comment below and share your story. 

If you’re reading by email, click HERE to visit Hungry for God online and leave a comment. I hope you enjoy Dr. Graham’s message as much as I did. 





If you're reading by email and can't see the video, click HERE to watch online.


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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

The Question Jesus Asks Us All: Do You Still not Understand?

From the time my daughter was a newborn, she was an excellent communicator. She could pack more meaning and emotion into one syllable than any child I knew. 

Other babies in the church nursery would work up to the full expression of their need. When their little tummies began to rumble, they’d squirm. Then their eyes would pop open. Then they’d poke their little lips out and whimper pitifully. Eventually, if no one summoned their mother or popped a bottle into their mouth, they’d begin to wail. 

Not my child. She’d go from dead asleep to howling in half a second. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! 
But every time she cried and I fed her, we built trust. Before long she transitioned from a bloodcurdling scream to a lusty cry. Then a softer cry. Eventually I couldn’t remember the last time she’d screamed herself (and me) awake. When I started feeding her on a schedule, sometimes she didn’t cry at all. She just waited for me to feed her. 

Once she learned simple words, she could ask for what she needed. And ask she did. 

“Mommy, may I have a pancake?” 

“Mommy, may I have a glass of juice? 

“Mommy, may I have that sparkly pair of shoes?” 

“Mommy, may I have another blanket?” 

Coming to me when she needed something became her default setting. I had proven myself dependable. Although it would be many years before she fully understood the commitment her father and I made when we brought her into the world, she knew one thing well – she could trust her parents to supply her needs. 

Apparently Jesus’ disciples struggled in the same way my daughter did. Mark 7 describes them looking out over a sea of 5,000 men and twice as many women and children and wondering, How in the world will we feed them all? 

"How many loaves do you have?" Jesus asked them, then multiplied the loaves and fish into so much food they gathered 12 baskets of leftovers (Mark 6:38-44). 

The next week, 4,000 men, many of whom had traveled great distances to hear Jesus, sat hungry at their feet. Jesus again told the disciples to feed them. 

 “But where in this remote place can anyone get enough bread to feed them?" they replied. 

"How many loaves do you have?" Jesus again asked (Mark 8:5). Then he multiplied their loaves and fish and fed them all. 

You’d think watching Jesus provide food in abundance on such a grand scale would have taught the disciples that he was a capable and consistent provider, but later that day, they were still struggling. 


I’m not sure whose responsibility it was to pack food for the trip, but halfway across the lake they realized they had only one loaf among them. A comment Jesus made warning them of the “leaven of the Pharisees” caused them to mutter among themselves. 

“Do you think he said that because we forgot the bread?” one man asked another. 

“Probably,” he said. “How could you forget it? That’s the second time this week.” 

“Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked them: ‘Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? 

 “'Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don't you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ 

“'Twelve,’ they replied. 

"'And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ 

“They answered, ‘Seven.’ 

“He said to them, ‘Do you still not understand?’” (Mark 8:17-21).

Jesus asks us the same thing. 

Do you not still understand? 

How much money do you have? Not enough. 

How much time do you have? Not enough of that either. 

How much health do you have? Energy? Wisdom? Perseverance? Faith? 

Not enough – and that’s the point. Within ourselves, with our limited and minuscule resources, we cannot do the tasks God has called us to do. But with Jesus as our dependable and faithful provider, we can. 

So the next time we take stock of our resources and find them lacking, we have a choice: Wail in fear or wait in trust. To help us make that choice, we can ask ourselves two questions: “Has God provided for me in the past?” 

If yes, “Has his ability to meet my needs changed?” 

Do we have any reason to think he can’t provide for us in the future? 

Do you still not understand?



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

Do You Still not Understand?

From the time my daughter was a newborn, she was an excellent communicator. She could pack more meaning and emotion into one syllable than any child I knew. 

Other babies in the church nursery would work up to the full expression of their need. When their little tummies began to rumble, they’d squirm. Then their eyes would pop open. Then they’d poke their little lips out and whimper pitifully. Eventually, if no one summoned their mother or popped a bottle into their mouth, they’d begin to wail. 

Not my child. She’d go from dead asleep to howling in half a second. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! 
But every time she cried and I fed her, we built trust. Before long she transitioned from a bloodcurdling scream to a lusty cry. Then a softer cry. Eventually I couldn’t remember the last time she’d screamed herself (and me) awake. When I started feeding her on a schedule, sometimes she didn’t cry at all. She just waited for me to feed her. 

Once she learned simple words, she could ask for what she needed. And ask she did. 

“Mommy, may I have a pancake?” 

“Mommy, may I have a glass of juice? 

“Mommy, may I have that sparkly pair of shoes?” 

“Mommy, may I have another blanket?” 

Coming to me when she needed something became her default setting. I had proven myself dependable. Although it would be many years before she fully understood the commitment her father and I made when we brought her into the world, she knew one thing well – she could trust her parents to supply her needs. 

Apparently Jesus’ disciples struggled in the same way my daughter did. Mark 7 describes them looking out over a sea of 5,000 men and twice as many women and children and wondering, How in the world will we feed them all? 

"How many loaves do you have?" Jesus asked them, then multiplied the loaves and fish into so much food they gathered 12 baskets of leftovers (Mark 6:38-44). 

The next week, 4,000 men, many of whom had traveled great distances to hear Jesus, sat hungry at their feet. Jesus again told the disciples to feed them. 

 “But where in this remote place can anyone get enough bread to feed them?" they replied. 

"How many loaves do you have?" Jesus again asked (Mark 8:5). Then he multiplied their loaves and fish and fed them all. 

You’d think watching Jesus provide food in abundance on such a grand scale would have taught the disciples that he was a capable and consistent provider, but later that day, they were still struggling. 


I’m not sure whose responsibility it was to pack food for the trip, but halfway across the lake they realized they had only one loaf among them. A comment Jesus made warning them of the “leaven of the Pharisees” caused them to mutter among themselves. 

“Do you think he said that because we forgot the bread?” one man asked another. 

“Probably,” he said. “How could you forget it? That’s the second time this week.” 

“Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked them: ‘Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? 

 “'Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don't you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ 

“'Twelve,’ they replied. 

"'And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ 

“They answered, ‘Seven.’ 

“He said to them, ‘Do you still not understand?’” (Mark 8:17-21).

Jesus asks us the same thing. 

Do you not still understand? 

How much money do you have? Not enough. 

How much time do you have? Not enough of that either. 

How much health do you have? Energy? Wisdom? Perseverance? Faith? 

Not enough – and that’s the point. Within ourselves, with our limited and minuscule resources, we cannot do the tasks God has called us to do. But with Jesus as our dependable and faithful provider, we can. 

So the next time we take stock of our resources and find them lacking, we have a choice: Wail in fear or wait in trust. To help us make that choice, we can ask ourselves two questions: “Has God provided for me in the past?” 

If yes, “Has his ability to meet my needs changed?” 

Do we have any reason to think he can’t provide for us in the future? 

Do you still not understand?



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

How to Pray for God's Will -- A Guest Post by Sue Schlesman

Today it's my privilege to share some thoughts from my friend and fellow writer, Sue Schlesman. Sue and I shared a room recently at the Asheville Christian Writers Conference. We immediately connected on a subject that is near and dear to our hearts--prayer. I know you'll be challenged and inspired by her words.

"Dear God, if it's Your will, please . . ." 

That's the spiritual way to pray, right? For God's will. And then we proceed to tell him what his will should be.

In Hebrews 12, we read about a whole list of people who spoke with God and heard His response. They heard God's will about moving to a new land, shaking off slavery, conquering kingdoms, enduring persecution. They prayed for God's will (a plan), they submitted to God's will (their obedience), and then God led them in His will (their destiny). God's will can mean all three things. So what and how should we pray for God's will?

Accept an unknown outcome.

Here are two curious aspects of God's will. He often doesn't tell us the details first, and he doesn't even promise we'll know why something happened. He just expects blind obedience to his written Word. Hebrew 11:39 says, "These were all commended for their faith yet none of them received what had been promised." 

None of them received what was promised! The faith walk is not about understanding what God is doing. It's about joining what he is doing. You may see the fruit of your obedience, but you may not. The outcome shouldn't matter.

Expect hardship in doing God's will. 

Since following God's will is an act of faith, it makes sense that part of the faith-building exercise is to follow God without knowing exactly where he's leading or what following him will entail. He has already given us some clues about this in Scripture:

John 16:33: "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Matthew 5:10: "Blessed are those who are persecuted because of their righteousness, for theirs in the kingdom of heaven."

1 Thessalonians 5:18: "Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Why are we surprised when following God is hard? He told us it would be hard. It's the enduring of hardship that points people to Christ. Jesus is the answer for all of life's difficulties.

Embrace suffering for doing God's will. It is God's will for you to experience suffering.

In Philippians 1:29, Paul says "For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also suffer for him." In Greek, the word grant carries the concept of giving a gift or a privilege. God gives us suffering because he knows it will improve our character and our relationship with him. Although it may seem like an oxymoron, we should embrace suffering, knowing that God is perfecting us and making us more like Jesus.

Be faithful in following God's will.

Let's not pray for God's will to remove something difficult from our lives. Let's pray for strength and courage to be faithful to our calling. Maybe we should pray through suffering more than we pray against suffering. Galatians 6:9 reminds us, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

Lord, not my will, but Yours be done. 






Sue Schlesman is a Christian writer, teacher, and speaker. Her blogs, fiction, and non-fiction reach a wide audience. You can find her eating dark chocolate and philosophizing about life and Jesus at www.susanwalleyschlesman.com and www.7prayersthatwork.com.








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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

Are We Tearing Apart Our Homes with Our Own Hands?

“And if you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” the woman muttered to her husband. “I told you we should have taken care of this a month ago. I don’t know why I let you handle things. I should just do it myself.” The disgust and contempt dripped from her lips like arsenic.


Looking their way, I glanced up at the man standing with her. His shoulders slumped, and a flush crept across his face. The light in his eyes dimmed. 

I turned away, feigning interest in the cans of Chef Boyardee on the shelf in front of me, but her words lingered in my mind long after she’d shoved her cart down another aisle.

I encountered another disrespectful wife recently, this one on the pages of Scripture.

Second Samuel 6 describes a grand and glorious day for Israel. After 20 years, the ark of God, the symbol of God’s favor and blessing, was finally returning to Jerusalem. David’s first attempt to bring back the holy symbol ended in disaster, but this time the priests carefully followed God’s instructions. When they’d taken six steps and no lightning bolts fell from the sky, they knew God’s blessing rested upon them.

David’s heart swelled with joy. Casting kingly dignity and his royal robes aside, he danced before the Lord with all his might. “He and the entire house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouts and the sound of trumpets,” (2 Sam. 6:14-15). The Israelites celebrated with songs of praise and a time of feasting. Happy and content, David returned to the royal palace basking in the joy of the celebration.

Until Michal, his wife, met him at the door. Sarcasm oozed from her words like slime from a slug. "How the king of Israel has distinguished himself today,” she spat, “disrobing in the sight of the slave girls of his servants as any vulgar fellow would!” (2 Sam. 6:20).

Talk about sucking the joy out of the atmosphere. Way to end one of the happiest days of David’s life. Instead of rejoicing with her husband and entering into his celebratory abandon, she demeaned and shamed him. Michal not only got an A for spoiling the party, she earned extra credit for wifely disrespect.

Like I did for the poor man in the grocery store, I cringed for David. But my heart hurt even more for Michal. Like the foolish woman in Proverbs 14:1, she was tearing down her house with her own hands – or mouth – in this case.

Second Samuel 6:2 records God’s judgment on her: “And Michal daughter of Saul had no children to the day of her death.”

It’s easy to look down our self-righteous noses at Michal, but one long look in the mirror reminds us we have little to brag about. How often have we talked down to our husbands, belittled or disregarded their ideas, or treated them like children? If someone were to record some of our conversations, would they always hear the same respectful tone we use with our bosses, patients, and friends or something less? 

Do we honor them as the leaders in our homes or undermine their leadership by manipulating them or going behind their back? Do we ever trash talk them to our friends, family, or children?

Since the dawn of time, women have struggled to respect their husbands. Sadly, many men don’t act in ways that deserve respect. But God doesn’t put conditions on his command for us to respect our husbands. He just tells us to do it.

“However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband” (Eph. 5:33).

As we respect our men out of reverence and obedience to the Lord, God will honor this. Ephesians 6:8 promises: “You know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do.”
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If you, like most of us, don't always respect your husband, may I suggest a resource? Dr. Emerson and Sarah Eggerichs’ book, Love and Respect offers a hopeful challenge and practical help toward building a marriage that honors God and each other. I highly recommend it.






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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

Is God Ignoring Me?

Standing at the kitchen counter, I feel a tug at my pants leg. Fully aware that my tiny granddaughter stands at my feet, I continue spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread. The tug becomes more insistent. 

“Just a minute, Caroline. Gigi can’t pick you up right now.” 


Caroline (lightly dusted with flour from Mommy's baking)A frown creases her little brow. Whimpering, she grabs both pants legs, arching her back as if to will herself higher. 

“I know you’re hungry. Hang on. I’m making you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” 

My words only fuel her distress. With a final swipe of the knife, I add jelly to the sandwich, then smoosh the two pieces of bread together, completing the PB&J marriage. A wail at my feet signals the end of Caroline’s patience. 

I understand her frustration. 

From her limited perspective, nothing is happening. My back is turned, and I am clearly occupied with something other than her. To make matters worse, she has a need I'm not responding to.

Or so she thinks. 


If Caroline was a little taller, she could see the truth—that I'm not ignoring her. Not only am I not ignoring her, but I'm actively working on her behalf. 

I’m a lot like Caroline. 

I’ve learned where to go when I have a need, and that’s a good thing. I approach my heavenly Father with a gentle tug and a whispered prayer or plea. If he doesn’t respond immediately, I become more insistent. 

Some days his silence makes me feel as though he’s turned his back on me and is deliberately ignoring my urgent demands. Other times, I must confess, I launch a full-blown tantrum, complete with thrashing and wails. 

Like Caroline, I have a limited perspective. 


Tethered to earth by my mortality, I cannot see into the spiritual realm, where God is always at work. I forget he is my advocate, my provider, and my deliverer. Spiritual amnesia robs my memory of all the times he’s come to my rescue, and I panic, forgetting that his timetable is different from my own. 

This is when I must rest in what I know, not in what I see. God’s Word tells me the truth—that he knows me, loves me, and promises to care for me all the days of my life. 

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isa. 46:4). 

What are you struggling with today? Trust God with it.

May this be our prayer: 

Father, help me trust you when I cannot see you. Help me remember all you’ve done for me in the past and wait patiently when your answer is long in coming. Grow my faith as I learn to depend on you. In the strong name of Jesus I pray, Amen.



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher

Crying in the Restroom -- Comfort for the Disappointed

Like the good writers they teach us to be, writing conference directors love to build anticipation and suspense. This is why they save “what you’ve all been waiting for” for the final moments of the final meeting on the final day of the conference.


What we’ve all been waiting for, at least for many attendees, is the announcement that reveals who won the writing contests. I served on faculty at a conference recently where this was the case. The Miss America pageant had nothing on them as they slowly read the names of the winners.

“And the second runner up is . . . “

“And the first runner up is . . . “

“Now let’s give the history of this particular contest . . .”

“And talk about a few of the past winners . . . “

“And take a few photographs . . . “

“And finally, . . . the winner of the 2018 Best Novel Contest iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis . . . Katie Smithson.”

Clapping along with the rest of the audience, I stood to excuse myself. I needed to go to the bathroom. I'd been waiting for at least 30 minutes because I didn't want to miss the announcement. As the winner, shiny trophy and cash prize in hand, posed for pictures, I made my way to the nearest restroom.

A quick glance told me it was empty except for one stall. And in that stall stood a crying woman.

Her back was pressed against the closed stall door, and all I could see was her feet. But I heard her sniffling.

I knew immediately what was wrong.

She was one of the contest entrants – one of the ones who didn’t win.

I turned, eased the bathroom door open, and slipped out, respecting her desire to cry alone.

On the long walk to find another restroom, I prayed for her.


Lord, remind her that her writing is valuable. Strengthen her resolve to learn the craft and apply the knowledge she’s learned this weekend. Give her courage to open her computer again. Someday her writing may be good enough to win an award, but even if it isn't, remind her that the true prize doesn't belong to the most gifted or accomplished, but to the one who perseveres. Most of all, Lord, help her not to quit.

When was the last time you were disappointed? When you knew your hard work was about to pay off, only to discover it wasn’t good enough? When your coworker got the promotion, raise, or bonus you hoped to secure? When someone else’s child got the full tuition scholarship? When God answered your best friend’s prayer but seemed to ignore yours?

We’ve all had times when our hearts have broken in disappointment. When we’ve smiled through our tears at someone else’s success or good fortune or hidden in the bathroom to cry.

If today is one of those days for you, I want to pray for you. 

Father, wrap your big strong arms around my dear sister. Hold her close and let her sob into your chest. Then, when the tears slow to a trickle and the sobs subside to an occasional hiccup, speak truth into her heart. Remind her that your timing is perfect, and you will withhold no good thing from those who walk uprightly. Renew her hope. 

Give her courage to try again, and again, and again, if that’s what’s needed. If she needs another approach, give her James 1:5 wisdom to know what it is. If you have a different plan for her, help her recognize it and obey you. Give her faith to trust your timing, your wisdom, and, most of all, your heart. In the mighty name of Jesus I pray, Amen. 


“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning,” (Psalm 30:5). 
Now it’s your turn. When was the last time disappointment made you cry? How did God comfort you in your pain? Leave a comment below and share your story. And if you’re reading by email, CLICK HERE to visit Hungry for God online and leave a comment.



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Copyright 2012 by Lori Hatcher