Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 40

Parachutes and Prayers

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“Lord, teach us to pray.” – Luke 11:1 NIV

 “Do not have your concert first and tune your instruments afterward. Begin the day with God.”

For years, I wrote these words of the late missionary Hudson Taylor on the front of my daily devotional booklet, which I received monthly in the mail. The back of the cover at that time was blank, and I used it to list prayer needs. I kept it with my Bible near my prayer chair.

Nowadays I receive the daily devotional readings via email. I thought it would save them the cost of printing and mailing, but I miss the old way. It was simple. And it was physical – a visual reminder to tune myself up before launching into the day.

When we visited the North Cascades Smokejumper base in Winthrop, Washington, this past summer, we learned about the difference between round and rectangular parachutes. There are advantages and disadvantages to both, but the main thing about a parachute is that, for everyone but smokejumpers and skydivers, a parachute is an emergency piece of equipment. It’s there, but you hope you never have to use it.

My prayer life, without the visual reminders and the discipline to take the time, morphs into a parachute mode: There for emergencies only.

Many are the books and articles written on prayer, but let’s focus on Jesus’s attitude toward prayer, as shown through His answer to the disciples’ request, “Teach us to pray,” and through His own prayer life.

First, prayer is private. “When you pray,” Jesus instructed His disciples, “go away by yourself, shut the door behind you, and pray to your Father in private” (Matthew 6:6). And He set the example: “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed” (Mark 1:35). You’ll find Jesus often going off by Himself to a mountaintop or a remote place to spend time with the Father.

Which brings us to the second point I want to make: Prayer is a relationship, not a religious activity (Henry Blackaby). Note the words “pray to your Father.”

Relationships involve regular communication, involving both speaking and listening: “A man prayed and at first thought that prayer was talking. But he became more and more quiet until in the end he realized prayer is listening.” (Søren Kierkegaard)

Third, prayer is concise. “When you pray,” Jesus said, “don’t babble on and on as the Gentiles do. They think their prayers are answered merely by repeating their words again and again. Don’t be like them, for your Father knows exactly what you need even before you ask Him!” (Matthew 6:7–8)

In the words of C. H. Spurgeon, “True prayer is measured by weight, not by length. A single groan before God may have more fullness of prayer than a fine oration of great length.”

And finally, prayer is constant. You don’t contact those you love only when you need something. You want to spend every minute you can with them. So it is with God.

Prayer is our line of communication, time carved out of a busy schedule to talk and listen, to get to know our Father and His Son better.

Prayer is not a parachute, to be used only in times of emergency.

In the words of George Herbert, “Prayer should be the key of the day and the lock of the night.”

Lord, teach me to pray. Amen.

Read and meditate on Matthew 6:5–13

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Cabin Fever Woes

[image error]View from the front deck of our driveway on March 19, 2017

 

Do everything without kvetching. –Philippians 2:14 CJB

“Quit your kvetching,” my mother often told me.

She used that Yiddish word whenever I complained about something, like when I’d gripe that my nose didn’t look right on my face.

“Imagine what you’d look like without a nose,” she’d say.

No sympathy. At all.

But she knew there were things in life I’d have to deal with – things I couldn’t change and things I could (like my attitude), but I was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Pity parties may be good to air bottled-up emotions, but they don’t remedy the situation.

My friend Rebecca is a lot like my mother in that way. I have to admit, sometimes I don’t appreciate her words. All I want is a little sympathy. I don’t get it. Instead I receive a verbal boot in my feeling-sorry-for-myself attitude.

Take, for example, my grumbling on Facebook this past week about being cooped up during this messy winter with its manic weather and the resulting cabin fever. Every time I plan to make the 12-mile drive down the mountain to town to get my hair cut, precipitation is forecast. I don’t drive on roads that may freeze up in the blink of an eye or if there’s even an inkling of the possibility of freezing rain. I’ve rescheduled my appointment three times. And from the looks of Tuesday’s forecast, it’ll be four.

“I find if I get cabin fever,” Rebecca wrote, “it usually means I have too much time on my hands.”

Too much time on my hands? I resented that. I have a schedule packed with things to do: prepare services and sermons, write my weekly column, schedule my blog, work on my novel, do laundry, make meals, clean up after the cats.

Oh, did I mention I’m kitty-sitting my grandkids’ two cats? And vacuuming up hair (they’re big, fuzzy cats) and cleaning up you-know-what because one of them won’t use the litter box.

But there I go, kvetching again.

Rebecca was right. Although I have items on the to-do list, I wasn’t doing them. “I don’t feel like it,” I’d tell myself. Or give myself some other lame excuse.

Instead of centering down and focusing on being productive, I’ve been wandering cyberspace, chasing rabbit trails, accomplishing nothing – and making myself more depressed.

Rebecca says I can regain my focus, motivation, and momentum by getting busy. And she suggested some activities:

Cooking/baking for an elderly friend or neighbor;
Putting together little packages for moms at a homeless shelter;
Rearranging or redecorating a room in your home that you have wanted to do for a while;
Start a new Pinterest board or web page;
Make a craft and do a video of making the craft and post it online so others can try it out too.

Her suggestions go right along with what Paul wrote to the Philippian church: “Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too” (Philippians 2:4 NLT).

Cabin fever? Focus on doing one item on your to-do list at a time and find ways to help others. Getting your eyes off yourself will pull you out of the pit of self-pity.

And it’s a sure cure for kvetching.

  Take this winter day, O Lord, and fill it with Your peace. Show me someone I can help and make my grumbling cease. Amen.

 Read and meditate on Philippians 2:1–18

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

The Challenge of Change

 

Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. –Joshua 1:9 NLT

It’s been a rough start to 2018.

[image error]Me and Rascal
July, 2017

On Jan. 2 we arrived home from a weeklong visit with our daughter and her family in South Carolina to discover one of my two kitty cats had crossed the Rainbow Bridge. 

I was devastated. Rascal was my little buddy, keeping me company during DH’s long workdays. When I worked at the computer, she’d curl up at my feet. In the evenings when I crocheted, she’d hop up onto the pillow-like arm of my cozy chair. Many times I’d be watching TV and realize she’d snuck onto my lap.

She slept on top of the covers at my feet, the perfect foot warmer on cold winter night. When I took my Sunday afternoon nap, she often stretched out beside me. She didn’t mind being cuddled, as long as it was a brief cuddle. I loved to rub my cheek over her soft, silky fur.

Then my 33-year-old son informed us he and his girlfriend were no longer together. I really liked her, too. I thought for sure she’d soon be a member of the family.

This past week my three grandchildren moved from the house they’ve called home since they were born – the house my husband grew up in, the farmhouse his ancestor built on land he homesteaded. The house next door.

My heart is breaking. Watching the swing set come down. Realizing I won’t see lights on in their rooms, knowing they’re home safe. No more watching them play ball in the backyard, swing on the swing set, walk in the lane after school. No longer will I pick them up at the bus stop on rainy days or watch the youngest when he’s home sick.

Even more changes lie ahead. Retirement. Our oldest grandson going off to college.

Change is a part of life. No, let me rephrase that: Change is life. Life is change. And the older we get, the harder it is to cope with. How do we deal with change?

Remember the 4 A’s:

ACCEPT: face changes with calmness and grace. Remember God is in control and will work all things for good (Romans 8:28). Remember Abraham. Remember Joseph. Remember how faithful God has been to you throughout your life. Remember Paul and his thorn in the flesh: “Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away.Each time he said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’” (2 Corinthians 12:8–9 NLT)

ADAPT: fit yourself into the change. Ask God for wisdom, strength, and courage. Once again, remember Paul, who wrote: “I have learned the secret of living in every situation. . . . For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:1–13). 

APPRECIATE: cultivate an attitude of gratitude. Be thankful for what you had in the past and what you have now. “In every situation [no matter what the circumstances] be thankful and continually give thanks to God; for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, AMP) 

ANTICIPATE: look forward, not backward. As Paul wrote, “I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead” (Philippians 3:13 NLT).

Facing change? Remember, you are not facing it alone. God is right there with you, giving you all the strength, wisdom, and courage you need.

Help me, Lord, to forget what’s gone, appreciate what remains, and look forward to what’s up ahead. Amen.

Read and meditate on Ecclesiastes 3:1–11.

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

 

That’s for the Birds!

 

[image error]Ah, my cardinal! I love to watch all the birds, but the cardinal brings a special delight and joy to me. He often is accompanied by Mrs. Cardinal, whose brown body and rust-colored head doesn’t attract predators. They take their turns at the feeders, with one waiting on a branch nearby while the other feeds. Here he’s waiting until the sparrows leave.

 

 Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. –Matthew 10:31 NKJV

Ever since our daughter gave us a birdfeeder for an anniversary present, DH and I have become avid bird watchers. Two feeders and a suet cage hang from the big red maple tree in our front yard, close enough that we can enjoy watching the finches, juncos, chickadees, blue jays, woodpeckers, nuthatches, grosbeaks, wrens, and cardinals take their turns.

It’s amazing how different they all are! Their colors, sizes, shapes, sounds, and behaviors all are unique and distinct to each of the nearly 10,000 species.

[image error]This Baltimore oriole was one of three that stopped in for a visit on May 7, 2014.

Imagine my delight when I spied three orioles one spring day. They must have just been passing through because that was the only time I saw an oriole. Another time a northern mockingbird, also a rare sight, alit on the branches.

During the summer months, a hummingbird feeder hangs on the back deck. How we enjoy their antics, especially when they buzz the deck, chasing each other. Did you ever notice how long the hummingbird’s beak is? It’s longer than that of other birds – long enough to extract the nectar from deep within a flower.

[image error]The rose-breasted grosbeak is an infrequent visitor, so spying one is a delight.

Other birds, I learned, also have beaks suited to their way of feeding: The short, thick beaks of the grosbeaks and finches enable them to crush hard seeds. Foliage gleaners such as warblers and vireos need their long, thin beaks to pluck an insect from a leaf. Birds that feed from the ground have pointed beaks that can pierce the soil.

Then there are their feathers. Ever notice how birds fluff up during the winter? They do it to trap tiny pockets of air that will hold in body heat and keep out the cold.

And did you know birds’ bones are hollow? That’s to make them light so they can fly.

[image error]A Baltimore oriole perches on a branch above an American goldfinch.

Before Jaime got us the feeder, I knew next to nothing about birds. Now I stand in awe of their Creator. He must have had a blast at creation!

Which brings me to another fact about birds: God not only created them, but they belong to Him: “I know every bird on the mountains, and all the animals of the field are mine,” God says. “For all the world is mine and everything in it.” (Psalm 50:11, 12).

He knows them intimately and cares for every detail of their lives:

“Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them.” (Matthew 6:26 NLT)

And again: “What is the price of five sparrows—two copper coins? Yet God does not forget a single one of them.” (Luke 12:6 NLT)

[image error]The red-bellied woodpecker likes to peck beneath the bark for insects.

Why all the hype about birds?

Because if God so cares for these feathered creatures, don’t you think He cares for you?

You’re not a nameless face in the sea of humanity. You are a unique creation of God Himself. He knows you intimately and loves you unconditionally.

Listen, again, to the words of His Son, this time to the entire verses:

“That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing?  Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?” (Matthew 6:25–26 NLT)

And again: “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” (Luke 12:6–7 NIV)

You are worth so much God sent His Son to take the punishment for your sins so you could be in heaven with Him forever. Jesus died for you. That, and the fact that you are “awesomely and wonderfully made” (read Psalm 139) – unique, special, loved, wanted by the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Feeling down on yourself? Worried about stuff? Don’t be.

God knows your name. Indeed, He has engraved it on the palm of His hand (Isaiah 49:16). And that’s NOT for the birds!

Thank you, Lord, for the birds that remind me of how very much You love me. Amen.

Read and meditate on Matthew 6:25–27

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

A Blackened Mess

 

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Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy. –Proverbs 28:13 NIV

When I bought a self-cleaning range, I thought I’d have a nice, clean oven without all the work. All I had to do was push a few buttons and let the range do the job.

But after 20 years, the self-cleaning feature stopped working. Which meant if I wanted the burned-on remains of spilled lasagna sauce and an upended pizza gone, I’d have to carve out the time and apply the elbow grease myself.

Who has the time for that?

So I let it go, and my once shiny oven became blacker with each use.

Before Thanksgiving I caved in and called the service department where I bought the range. Unfortunately, there was no simple fix. In fact there was no fix at all for a range that old. But an over-the-counter oven cleaner would work just fine, the storeowner told me.

But he hadn’t seen the burned-on, blackened messes.

So I let it go. I just had too much to do to take the time to clean the oven the old-fashioned way. After the holidays I’d tackle the messy job.

Thankfully all the holiday baking and roasting was done when something happened that put the oven out of commission.

Since my youngest son, David, was coming for Christmas Eve with his girlfriend and her parents, and David’s birthday was the day after Christmas, DH baked David a birthday cake. We wanted it to be a surprise, so before we left for church, he hid the cake in the oven. Two number-3 candles rested atop the plastic cover.

After the church service, David and company arrived home before we did. He didn’t know about the hidden cake when he preheated the oven to make something for our meal.

So while he beat out the flames with a metal spatula, Dean and I opened the windows and patio door, and got the fans going to disperse the smoke.

The cake was fine. The cover was a little melted, but still usable. But the candles! Suffice to say we wouldn’t be using the oven until the mother of all oven messes was cleaned up.

[image error]Which DH did last Saturday.

I’m like that oven. With use, I, too, become dirty. My “inner person” that is. Even though I received Jesus as my Savior, even though my sins are forgiven and my guilt washed away. Even though the Holy Spirit resides within me, I still fight my human nature. It doesn’t rule me, understand—but I still have the choice to obey or not to obey God.

And sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I let my emotions take over and say things I shouldn’t. Or allow my resentment to simmer until it boils over into anger. Or I avoid doing something I know I should.

Although we don’t come with a self-cleaning feature, we do have a simple way to remove the sin that blackens our souls—before it becomes a burned-on, hardened mess. It’s called confession.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9 NKJV).

Forgiveness and cleansing—I need these daily. And to get them, all I have to do is ask.

Thank You, Lord, for providing the way for my sins to be forgiven. All I have to do is ask. Amen.

Read and meditate on Psalm 32

Other Scripture to think about:

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet,  they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” – Isaiah 1:18

As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us.. – Ps. 103:12

He will again have compassion on us, And will subdue our iniquities. You will cast all our sins Into the depths of the sea. – Micah 7:19

© 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

 

A Tangled Mess

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Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. – Proverbs 3:5–6 NIV

It was the mother of all yarn tangles.

In 40 years of crocheting, I never experienced the tangled mess that confronted me last week.

We were on our way home from South Carolina after a week-long visit with our daughter and her family, and I planned to work on the poncho I’m making for her as a late birthday present. I’d wanted to finish it while I was there, but other activities—more fun—called me away from my project.

The pattern was rather monotonous—75 rows of one stitch, a single crochet that tended to make progress slow because the rows got longer with each round. It didn’t help that I had to tear out 10 rows because of a wrong stitch that affected the rows following it. Two and a half hours of work unraveled in less than a minute.

But I was determined to finish her gift and finish it right. While it wouldn’t be perfect—I’ve learned to cover most of my mistakes—it would be warm, cozy, and something she asked me to make.

We were two hours into the trip and I was making good progress when the yarn tangled. Now, I’ve had yarn tangles before, but this one was the mother of all yarn tangles. Don’t ask me how it got so hopelessly snarled, but the more I tried to unravel it, the more twisted it became. And it wasn’t just the end of the skein—I’d used only half of the 370-yard skein.

So I snipped the yarn, put the poncho-in-progress in the back seat, and began untangling 185 yards of what resembled a big bowl of cooked spaghetti.

I worked the rest of the 10-hour trip and still hadn’t finished when we arrived home. DH, my usual yarn untangler, unraveled the rest of it in an hour after we’d unpacked.

Crocheting—especially yarn tangles—teaches me a lot about life. Here are 10 principles I’ve learned:

You don’t toss something away because it looks hopelessly messed up. Don’t waste something that, with time and patience, can be made into something good, useful, and beautiful.
Sometimes things just doesn’t go as planned. Indeed, as John Lennon once said, “Life is what happens while you’re making other plans.” So, you recalculate.
It can take only a second to undo years of work. Pick yourself up and begin again.
To get through the rough spots, cultivate determination and perseverance.
Correcting mistakes is important if you want a satisfactory result. Even if it means undoing much of what you’ve done. Even if it means starting all over.
Mistakes CAN be corrected. You just have to want to make them right.
Just because you think your life is monotonous doesn’t mean it isn’t adding up to something worthwhile. Yes, the rows get longer and take more time to complete, but keep the end result in sight to give you the fortitude to push on through the monotony—and maybe even find joy and fulfillment in it.
Slow progress and setbacks teach patience, and patience helps you to persevere to the end.
You’re not alone. I didn’t unravel the mother of all yarn tangles by myself. By the time I got home, I was sick of it. But DH picked it up and finished it. So it is in life. Folks—I call them angels in disguise—come alongside us and help us to the finish line.
You have to learn to accept help. And, even more important, know when to ask for it.

The mother of all yarn tangles now rests as a ball of yarn in my crochet project basket, waiting for its time to be made into something useful.

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Thank You, God, that You can take this tangled mess I’ve made and make it into something beautiful. Amen.

Read and meditate on Romans 5:1–5.

 © 2018 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Puppies and Promises

 

[image error]A girl and her dog

If I take the wings of the morning, And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, Even there Your hand shall lead me, And Your right hand shall hold me. ­–Psalm 139:9–10 NKJV

My 37-year-old daughter Jaime loves dogs. Her heart especially goes out to shelter dogs—the ones who have had a rough start to life. That’s where she got Tess, her 14-year-old German Shepherd-Golden Lab mix, when Tess was two.

Due to her age, Tess has many health issues, and Jaime does her best to keep her as comfortable and healthy as possible under the circumstances. When the time comes for Tess to cross Rainbow Bridge, the void in the family’s hearts and home will send Jaime back to the shelter to adopt another puppy.

“Puppies,” Jaime said, “are my way of knowing that, no matter how bad things get, everything is going to be okay.”

A good quote to remember as we face a new year.

While we don’t know the specifics, we do know the New Year will bring both grief and joy, disappointment and hope, trials and triumphs.

Puppies, in Jaime’s eyes, are the promise of joy, hope, and triumph.

We, too, have promises we can count on to see us through the grief, disappointment, and trials the New Year holds—the promises in God’s Word. And since the Author is faithful, we know His Word can be trusted (2 Timothy 2:13).

We have the promise of His LOVE—unconditional, undeserved, unlimited. A love we can count on no matter how awful we’ve behaved or think we are, a love that reaches to the skies (Psalm 36:5). His arms are always open to receive us. All we have to do is come home to Him (Luke 15:11–32).

We have the promise of His GRACE—a grace that will see us through the tough times, unanswered prayers, and heavy burdens. We are never alone as we trudge through the deep, dark, endless valleys that are sure to come. “My grace is sufficient,” God tells us in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” So when we are weak, He is strong. The weaker we become, the stronger He becomes.

We have the promise of His MERCY—forgiveness for the asking, and even when we don’t ask. A new start every day. Renewed hope. “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:  The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:21–23 RSV).

And those aren’t all. We have the promises of His protection (Psalm 3:3), His presence (Exodus 33:14, Hebrews 13:5), and His provision (Philippians 4:19).

That He hears and answers our prayers, whether or not we see the answers we want, no matter how long we have to wait (Psalm 50:15).

Puppies and promises. No matter how bad things may get, I know that things will be okay because my God holds me, my family, and my future—every day, every moment—in the palm of His hand. Indeed—we are engraved there! (Isaiah 49:15-16)

Thank You, Father, that whatever the New Year brings, I can face all things through the One who gives me strength—Your Son, Jesus. Amen.

Read and meditate on Psalm 139

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

When Junk Brought Joy

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God delights in the one whose heart is in his gift. –2 Corinthians 9:7 AMP

It was late fall, 1978. My husband worked at the local scrapyard—his hours dependent on the weather—I was a stay-at-home mom, and we were poor.

We wanted to put some nice presents under the tree for our two-year-old son, but, with Dean bringing home around $100 a week, how could we afford even one? Putting food on the table and paying the bills on time were higher priorities.

Then someone dumped a load of junk at the scrapyard—a load that included a couple of well-used, rusty, but still sturdy, Tonka toys. Dean brought them home to our second-story apartment and set up Santa’s workshop in our unheated attic.

When Christmas morning dawned, a refurbished dump truck and front-end loader sat under our tree.

Over the next few years, my husband repurposed other toys that had been discarded at the junkyard, including a motorhome and a three-wheeled pedal tractor.

When our second child, a daughter, came along, we were still poor. I put my sewing machine to use and made her a Raggedy Ann doll. Another year I crocheted her a stuffed panda from Dazzleaire yarn. That panda grew up with her, and I presented it to her—minus the stuffing because she’d plucked it all out—on her wedding day.

After nearly 40 years, those Christmases are the ones that warm my heart the most.

Back then Christmas wasn’t about the money because we had none. But somehow we found a way to give. And it was more than a Tonka toy or homemade stuffed doll under the tree. It was something intangible—the gift of time, talent, and love—a piece of our hearts.

We may have been poor in money, poor in worldly possessions, but we were rich in love.

Our hearts overflowed with it. It infused our handmade gifts, gave energy to every swipe of sandpaper, every stroke of the paintbrush, every stitch of thread and yarn—and multiplied back to us on Christmas morning when our children exclaimed in delight as they opened their gifts.

[image error]One of the afghans I made for a Christmas gift

This year I organized my crochet supplies, bought a cartful of yarn, and got to work. Since mid-October, I’ve made eight granny-square Christmas stockings, two afghans, two messy bun hats with matching headbands and infinity scarves, and one pair of boot cuffs. When I couldn’t find a pattern to match what I envisioned for a reticule (a small purse), I crafted one of my own.

And a long-lost, deep-rooted, almost forgotten joy fills my heart and overflows onto everything around me.

You see, the joy of giving explodes when the heart is in the gift. Joy, like love, doesn’t divide. It multiplies.

Thank You, Lord God, for helping me to rediscover true joy. Amen.

Read and meditate on Luke 2:1–20 and Matthew 2:1–12 

© 2017, Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

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TO MY READERS: May God’s peace, joy, and love fill your hearts and homes this Christmas and throughout the New Year.

Savoring the Season

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“My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.” –Jesus, as quoted in Luke 10:41–42 NLT

“Are you ready for Christmas?” someone asked me this past week.

“Yes!” I answered.

She looked surprised and began to commend me, but I stopped her.

“I don’t have a single Christmas card written,” I confessed. “Most of the presents are waiting to be wrapped, and I’m still crocheting an afghan for my son. I should have it done by Christmas Eve. And I don’t have a single thing baked. But I’m ready for Christmas.”

She looked puzzled, so I explained.

“I’m not stressed this year because I’m savoring the unfolding of the season.”

This is, truly, “the most wonderful time of the year.” Anticipation fills the air. Kindness and compassion abound. Joy bubbles. Love spills over. Peace pervades the atmosphere. And I don’t want to miss it by letting the Martha in me overrule the Mary in me.

Over the years of exhausting myself so much that I couldn’t truly enjoy Christmas, I’ve learned a few things.

First, I’ve learned that I don’t have to do it all myself. I’ve learned to let others help.

My son, his girlfriend, and her parents will be with us Christmas Eve. I planned an easy menu that doesn’t require hours upon hours in the kitchen preparing food. Soup, sandwiches, veggies, and dessert. Simple. I’ll provide the soup and sandwiches, and David and Kristin will bring the veggie tray and dessert.

The focus, I’ve come to realize, is not on the food but on family. Time with them is precious and more important than a feast that leaves me wiped out after preparing.

I’ve learned to say “yes” when someone asks if they could do something. Set the table, put out the food trays, light the candles, fill the ice bucket. I know how good it makes me feel when I can help. Allowing my guests—even children—to lend a hand gives them a feeling of being accepted, valued, and needed. More than welcome. Not so much a guest as a cherished friend or a beloved family member. You can’t put a ribbon or a price tag on a gift like that.

Second, I’ve learned that I don’t have to do everything. I’ve learned to let some things on the to-do list go.

I’ve learned that everything doesn’t have to be perfect. I used to strive for a spotless, sparkling, picture-perfect house. I was worried how it would reflect on me if my home didn’t look like a scene from House Beautiful or Good Housekeeping. But I’ve learned that no one looks at the baseboards.

What’s more important than a perfect house or a feast fit for a king is the Spirit of the Babe born in Bethlehem that cold night so long ago filling my home with love, joy, and peace like the fragrance from a scented candle.

I don’t need things done to be ready for Christmas. My heart, mind, and spirit are already celebrating.

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What about you—are you ready for Christmas?

As I light the third Advent candle, remind me, Father, that it isn’t so important that my home is ready but that my heart is. Amen.

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

There’s an Oil for That!

 

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. . . to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. –Isaiah 61:3 NIV

I was making butternut squash soup this past week and had taken a pan of the buttered, cubed squash out of the oven. The pan meaning my largest stainless steel saucepan—with a handle.

Now, I don’t make butternut squash soup too often for several reasons: DH doesn’t like it, it’s a lot of work, and it leaves my kitchen a mess. But it’s perfect for a quick, delicious lunch.

In the process of making this batch, I grabbed the handle—the very hot handle—of the saucepan not once—but twice. Without a hot pad.

Talk about a “stupid of me” moment! Especially since blisters were already forming from the first time.

Since kitchen injuries such as burns and sliced fingers are par for the course for me (I never said I was Betty Crocker), I keep a small bottle of lavender essential oil in a kitchen cupboard. Within minutes of slathering on the oil, the pain eased. By the next morning, no trace of the burn remained. No blisters, no redness.

Because I’d rather use natural remedies than manmade chemicals, I have a medicine cabinet shelf full of various essential oils. My skeptical offspring tease me whenever someone complains about an ailment: “There’s an oil for that, right, Mom?”

They aren’t the only skeptics. I’ve given up trying to convince folks that these oils, which are better for the body than manmade chemicals, really work. So I just use them and hope the results are obvious. And try to keep my mouth shut. But that’s hard when I know of something that will improve their lives.

It’s the same with telling others about the benefits of being a Christian. To receive these blessings is as simple as believing and saying, “Yes” to God.

Simple. But not easy. Because letting go of self-control and accepting God-control is hard, unless we’ve made such a mess of things, divine intervention is our only recourse. (It’s our only recourse anyway.) Or because we’d rather trust in something that we can see, hear, touch, smell, and feel than an invisible God who’s as real as the oxygen we breathe.

That’s probably why there are more skeptics than believers.

But, oh, the benefits of being a believer! 

What are they? 

For starters, the omnipotent, omniscient God’s presence, protection, and provision. His steadfast love. His mercy. His grace. His faithfuln

I’m never alone. When I’m puzzled or hurt, weary or overwhelmed, I have a trusted Person to go to who will give me rest. All my needs are provided, so worry isn’t something I waste my time and emotions on. When I need answers, He provides them. It may take time, but He has never failed me yet.

I could go on and on and on. The Bible is filled with the blessings that belong to believers. Like my kids say, “There’s an oil for everything.”

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Do you know someone who can use God’s oils?

As we light the second candle on the Advent wreath, let it be a reminder that Jesus came to give us the oil of joy.

Help me, Lord, not to be silent about the oils of Your blessings. Amen.

Read and meditate on Isaiah 61:1–3 and Luke 4:16–21

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.