Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 41

More Than Just a Decoration (Advent 1: HOPE)

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Those who HOPE in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. —Isaiah 40:31 NIV

Even though DH brought down the Christmas decorations from the attic two weeks earlier than usual, putting them up is taking longer this year.

It might be because DH and I are slowing down. It might be because our family will no longer gather at our house on Christmas Eve to enjoy a meal together and exchange presents. That tradition, sad to say, has disappeared into the land of Christmas Past.

Life changes. It’s dynamic, not static. Which really is a good thing because the only things that don’t change are dead. So I accept the life changes. Even if I don’t like them. Even though I miss the wonderful chaos that was Christmas Eve at our house.

So, why decorate when there’s just the two of us?

Because there are two of us. And we will celebrate the birth of our Savior because He came to give us something we all need: hope.

Which brings me to the pine cone.

This year, it’s more than a decoration to me.

Why?

Because it symbolizes hope.

I learned something about the pine cone this past summer on our road trip to the Pacific Northwest.

We were blessed with an amazing guide when we took the bus tour of the Road to the Sun in Glacier National Park. Most tour guides spout off what they have in their minds because they’ve memorized the script.

Not Jeremiah. He spoke from what was in his heart. His love for the area and for sharing tidbits of information was obvious. There wasn’t a question he couldn’t answer.

After driving through an area that had been devastated by forest fires, he held up a pine cone.

“The intense heat from a forest fire causes the pine cone to open up. Inside are the seeds of new trees,” he explained. “The forest you see around you grew from those seeds that were once inside the pine cones.”

If you’ve ever seen the devastation left by a fire, you’d think all was lost.

But God planned for life to continue. Our Creator placed the seeds of new life within the pine cone and made it so that an all-consuming fire wouldn’t destroy that new life, but initiate it.

Wow.

The forest would never be the same as it was before the fire, but new life emerged from the ashes of the old.

Only God.

There are times in our lives when we are left in the ruins of our hopes and dreams. We stumble through the valley of desolation, darkness without, discouragement and disillusionment within. Our hope is gone.

So we think.

But take a lesson from the pine cone: Hope is never gone. Not when you’ve made the sovereign God your God (see Romans 8:28).

A new life will grow from the ashes of your hopes and dreams. A new dream. New hope that will carry you through when your faith is weak.

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As we light the first Advent candle, the candle of Hope, let us remember the pine cone.

It’s more than a decoration. It’s a reminder of hope.

How I need hope, O Lord! Rekindle the fire of hope in my heart, mind, and spirit. Amen.

Read and meditate on Isaiah 40:21–31

More tea:

Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my HOPE is in him.” – Psalm 62:5 (NLT)

Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your HOPE in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. – Psalm 42:11 (NIV)

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved. Images in public domain.

On Fear and Faith

 

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So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. –Isaiah 41:10 NIV

For the past couple of months, I’ve been working through Priscilla Shirer’s Bible study Breathe.

And I’ve been forced to confront myself.

That may sound strange, but there are things about ourselves we don’t see, things we don’t want to see, things we see but aren’t ready to deal with.

Take fear, for instance.

Now I believe I’m a person of strong faith and thus have not addressed or acknowledged fear. Before this Bible study, I would have said I have no fears. Except bathophobia (fear of deep water), acrophobia (fear of heights), and claustrophobia (fear of being trapped in a small space).

[image error]This footlog was wider than some of the others we crossed. (October 2015, Smoky Mountains National Park)

Over the past few years, I’ve conquered some of those fears. I’ve learned to swim in deep water, stepped across narrow footlogs, ridden a ski lift up a mountain, and enjoyed the view 175 feet above Elliott Bay in Seattle on the tallest Ferris wheel on the West Coast. Granted I rode in an enclosed gondola, but there was a time I wouldn’t have even considered an enclosed car, which would have spiked not only my acrophobia but also my claustrophobia.

While I’ve dealt with lots of fears over my lifetime, there’s one I never realized existed until recently. Well, maybe I knew it was there, but I shoved it down deep and refused to acknowledge it existed.

What is that fear?

The fear my dreams will never come true.

The dream of my husband retiring. The dream of traveling with him in our fifth wheel camper without having to worry about time or money.

The dream of a speaking ministry in which my husband and I work together. I have a glimpse of what this can be like, as he’s travelled with me to several speaking engagements.

The dream of becoming a well-selling author of fiction. Best-selling would be nice, but I’ll settle for well-selling. Right now, I’m lucky to break even on the books I write and publish as an independent author-publisher.

Fear that writing fiction isn’t God’s will for me. I’ve asked God to take the desire to write fiction out of my heart if that isn’t what He wants for me. Yet when I think about not writing fiction, instead of peace, I experience sadness and grief.

I keep praying, “God, take the desire to write fiction out of my heart if that isn’t Your will for me,” waiting for God to do it. Yet He has not removed it from my heart. I still love writing fiction.

It isn’t that He hasn’t answered my prayer, but that He has and I didn’t see it.

Have you ever done that?—Prayed a prayer and didn’t see the answer because you were expecting something else? You were looking for a “no” and God was shouting His “yes!”

Can what I want so badly be exactly what God wants for me? I’m still wrapping my mind and heart around this.

The key is wanting what God wants more than what I want. Asking God to give me the desires of my heart—to place His desires in my heart and remove my desires so that I’m on the same page God is.

It’s as simple as A,B, C—Accepting His answer, Believing the dreams He has placed in my heart will come true, and Confidently stepping into the plans He has just for me.

When I wrestle with fear and doubt, O God, give me the strength to overcome and to pursue the plans You have for me with confident assurance and joy. Amen.

Scripture to meditate on:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” –Jeremiah 29:11

The Lord will work out his plans for my life. –Psalm 138:8

So do not throw away this confident trust in the Lord. Remember the great reward it brings you! Patient endurance is what you need now, so that you will continue to do God’s will. Then you will receive all that he has promised. –Hebrews 10:35–36

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. –Romans 15:13

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Lessons from the Lepers

 

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Give thanks to the LORD for he is good; his love endures forever. –1 Chronicles 16:34 NIV

Tucked away in the Gospel of Luke is the account of Jesus healing ten lepers—nine verses that we may read, think we got the main idea, and move on.

Much is said about the one who, when he realized he’d been healed, returned to Jesus, threw himself down at His feet, and thanked Him.

But let’s not dismiss the other nine as totally ungrateful. Instead let’s take a closer look at this miracle—and what we can learn from it.

First, all ten lepers were in a difficult, impossible situation.

Today leprosy can be treated, but in biblical times it was a death sentence. It changed your life—you no longer had a life, except as an outcast to be shunned. You were forbidden to be in contact with family and friends. If you sneezed or coughed on someone, you’d transmit the incurable disease to them. So you were avoided at all costs.

Leprosy disfigured you. Its stench was nauseating, disgusting, and repulsive—and so were you. You lived your life as a pariah, shouting “Unclean! Unclean!” to warn others not to get near you.

So you wouldn’t be alone, you joined other lepers and wandered about the countryside, a mere beggar because you could no longer earn your livelihood and support your family. You were dependent on the mercy of others, who would slip you money or food to help you survive. You had no pride left.

Your only hope was a miracle, and the only One who performed miracles was an itinerant rabbi, the controversial Jesus of Nazareth. But, hey, He was your only chance. What could you lose if you tracked Him down and asked?

Do you find yourself in difficult circumstances? Remember, God specializes in the impossible. He wants to help you in your circumstances. They aren’t too difficult for Him. All you have to do is ask—and you don’t even have to track Him down because He’s with you all the time (Hebrews 13:5, Matthew 28:20).

Second, when they asked for mercy (translate: miracle), Jesus told them to do something.

No words of healing were spoken. No curing touch given. Just a command to “go, show yourselves to the priests”—the normal procedure the Jew was to follow when his leprosy was gone.

They didn’t question. They didn’t argue. They probably didn’t understand the command—but they obeyed.

“And as they went,” Luke tells us, “they were miraculously healed and made clean” (Luke 17:14 AMP).

Remember, although only one returned to say thank you, all ten obeyed. Sometimes God asks you to do something that doesn’t make sense and that you don’t understand. Obedience is prerequisite to the miracle.

Third, all ten had faith enough to ask and faith enough to obey, even though at the start of their walk to show themselves to the priests, there was no change in their condition. Their faith wasn’t in what they could see, in their appearance, or in anything tangible.

“Faith comprehends as fact what cannot be experienced by the physical senses” (Hebrews 11:1 AMP).

Where are you putting your faith? In what you can see, hear, and experience with your physical senses?

Or in the promises of a God

who walks with you through the difficult (Psalm 23:4),
who is bigger than the impossible (Genesis 18:14),
works all things for your good (Romans 8:28),
gives you strength to obey when you don’t understand (and even when you think you do) (Philippians 4:13),
whose grace is sufficient for all your needs (2 Corinthians 12:9),
who provides for all your needs (Philippians 4:19), and
who will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5)?

Take a lesson from the lepers:

Ask. Obey. Believe. Receive. And then rejoice.

How awesome, Father God, that there is more to thank You for than to ask You for! Amen.

Read and meditate on Luke 17:11–19

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

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Semper Paratus

[image error]This display is comprised of gloves used by the smokejumpers.

Always be ready! —Matthew 25:13 CEV

One of the highlights of our month-long trip to the Pacific Northwest this past summer was touring the North Cascades Smokejumper Base in Winthrop, Washington.

These amazing firefighters, who parachute into remote areas to combat wildfires, must be ready at all times to respond quickly and efficiently. When the air horn sounds, they have two minutes to suit up in their gear, which includes pants, jacket, harness, reserve parachute, main parachute, helmet, gloves, and personal fire pack. Their goal is to be in the air, en route to the fire, within 15 minutes of being dispatched.

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The key is to always be ready.

Their suits hang in the parachute loft in such a way that all they have to do is back into them. Parachutes, paracargo (supplies dropped from the aircraft via parachute), personal gear bags, and 100-pound backpacks are all ready to go.

The smokejumpers are semper paratus—always ready.

Semper paratus, the motto of the US Coast Guard, would be a good motto for each of us. Because we need to be always ready for anything, planned or unplanned, that drops itself in our laps.

While I love serendipity and spontaneity—they add excitement and fun to life—they are the exception, rather than the rule. I need order and organization. They are my keys to survival. Without them, chaos reigns. And with chaos come stress, anxiety, worry, waste of time and resources, and, often, disaster.

This coming Saturday our house will be filled with family gathering together to celebrate Thanksgiving. Eleven people, ranging in age from seven to 68, and two dogs (including Tucker, the hyperactive pup who chews everything in sight), will spend the weekend under our roof and share a Thanksgiving meal.

This takes planning—from meals to snacks to who sleeps where to games to bathroom time to keeping Tucker out of trouble.

When the first car drives up, I have to be ready.

This involves lots of planning, preparing, and praying.

I’ve made lists of things to do, groceries to buy, who will prepare and bring what dishes. I’ve scheduled which rooms to clean on which days next week.

Once my plans are in place, it’s time to begin preparing.

Sometimes the unexpected upends the whole apple cart. “The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry” (Robert Burns). Then what? I go to Plan B. If that doesn’t work, Plan C.

If all else fails, I pray.

But prayer isn’t last-minute grasping at straws when things go wrong. It’s a part of every phase of semper paratus. Pray when you plan. Pray as you prepare. But most important, pray ahead. You don’t know what the day will bring.

I pray ahead every morning when I wake up. Before I even throw back the covers, I ask God for wisdom and discernment, for guidance in the problems I’ll face and the decisions I’ll make. I don’t know what those problems and decisions will be. But God does.

I need God beside me, every moment of the day, for the big things and the little things. Without Him, all my plans and preparations come to naught.

What about you—are you always ready for what’s on your agenda? For the unpredictable?

Are you semper paratus?

Help me, Omniscient Father, to be always ready for anything that will come my way. Help me to plan and to prepare for the expected and the unexpected. Only with Your help can I navigate the unpredictable waters of life. Amen.

Read and meditate on Matthew 25:1–13

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Never the Same

[image error]Attu: Graves of fallen soldiers from the Battle of Attu 

 

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. – John 15:13 (NIV)

 My father was wounded on the pitiful island of Attu in World War II. Shrapnel imbedded in his spine left him paralyzed, recuperating in a VA hospital for a year. He was never the same.

The spinal injuries he suffered defending a little spit of volcanic rock hanging on the tail end of the Aleutian Islands off the coast of Alaska left him with recurrent back pain for the rest of his life. When the first symptoms of stomach cancer appeared 30 years later, he thought it was his troublesome back. By the time the cancer was discovered, it was too late. He died a month after surgery.

My mother was never the same. I was never the same.

War does that. It changes lives, steals dreams, shatters hopes. But the men and women who returned from World War II were stalwart characters. They got on with life, building families and communities. They were the first in line at the polls on election day, first in line at a Red Cross blood drive. They understood duty, loyalty, courage. They didn’t preach it, they lived it. Their priorities were—in order—God, family, country.

Dad refused to talk about the war. So when I discovered his Bronze Star hidden in a dresser drawer, I was surprised. I didn’t think Attu was significant enough to warrant a medal for bravery. One World War II writer described it as “the lonesomest spot this side of hell.”

But, unknown to the American public, for 15 months—from early June 1942 to the mid-August 1943—US forces fought off a Japanese invasion in what one writer described as “arduous operations hampered by shortages afloat, ashore, and in the air…not to mention the almost insuperable obstacles of weather and terrain.” When it was all over, American casualties added up to 3,829 (25 percent of the invading force—second only in proportion to Iwo Jima): 549 dead, 1,148 injured, 1,200 with severe cold injuries, 614 with disease, and 318 to miscellaneous causes. The Japanese lost 2,351 men; only 28 were taken prisoner. (Source: http://www.hlswilliwaw.com/aleutians/Aleutians/html/aleutians-wwii.htm)

Attu didn’t get much press. It was only as I looked up information for this column that I discovered the real significance of this historic battle.

We still were reeling from Pearl Harbor, as the Aleutian Island invasion took place a mere six months later. Perhaps it was to protect the public, to prevent a panic that news about the battle raging in the Bering Sea was blacked out. How many outside the military and the government knew at the time that the enemy was that close? Our military was tied up in Europe and the South Pacific. Little Attu paled in comparison.

Yet history would have been different had we lost Attu and the rest of the Aleutian Islands.

Never once in all his pain did my father ever complain or protest war. He knew the price that must be paid for freedom. Whether in Vietnam, Bosnia, or the Middle East, liberty’s price is the blood of our sons and daughters—no less than what God paid for our freedom from sin and its consequences.

Our eternal history would have been different had the battle for our souls not been waged and won 2,000 years ago on a God-forsaken spit of land called Calvary. But this war, unlike human wars, changes lives for the better, restores dreams and renews hope. Once we decide whose side we’re on, we are never the same.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16 NLT). Thank you, thank you, thank you, God! Amen.

© 2006 by Michele T. Huey. All rights reserved.

Attu, 1943 (from my Dad’s files)

On May 25, 1943, my father, Sgt. Peter Maddock of Co. B 205th ENGR COMB BN U.S. ARMY, was wounded in the Battle of Attu. His injuries included dislocated spine, severe frostbite of both hands and feet, injuries to the groin, and shrapnel in his back, for which he received the Purple Heart Medal (see picture below). For his actions in the line of duty, he also received the Bronze Star.

Below are some pictures I recently discovered. I’ve tried to identify as much as I could. Captions include what Dad had written on the back of that particular photograph.

[image error]Dad outside his barracks hut on Attu Island
[image error]I can’t tell if this is Dad or not. It very well may be, as he was in charge of a construction company in the engineers battalion, which built warehouses, post buildings, roads, and bridges of wood and steel.

 

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[image error]I believe Dad is the third from the left, the one with the glasses.
[image error]Dad is the second from the right, outside the barracks.

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[image error]“Alexae Point, Attu P. 38 Airstrip Hope you can read the sign.”  Sign reads: “Home of the Army’s Northwestern-most airfield”
[image error]“Self explanatory. We were trapped on Fishhook Ridge at the time.”
[image error]“A warrior’s grave Ensign Henderson on Attu 1943. This ridge named for him. Note machine gun used as headstone.”
[image error]Japanese soldiers WW2
[image error]“Grave of 34 Japs all in one hole. These aren’t buried very deep and the rain always uncovers them. Our hut is about 50 yds from here.”
[image error]Purple Heart Award Ceremony, July 27, 1945   “Joe’s wife snapped this just as Colonel (?) was (shaking) my hand.” The rest is unreadable as the ink faded or got wet. Dad later added: “Award of Purple Heart at Deshon Hospital, Bulter, Pa.”

Saluting My Veterans

[image error]Dean at the entrance of the Parris Island, SC Marine Corps Base, where he took basic training in 1968. (February 9, 2016)
[image error]Dean stands in front of the wall mural depicting the F-4 Phantom, which he worked on as an aircraft electrician when he was in the U.S. Marine Corps (picture taken at Parris Island, 2/9/2016).
[image error]Dean reflects on his experience as a U. S. Marine on our visit to Parris Island (2/9/2016)

 

[image error]My husband, Wilbur Dean Huey, sergeant, USMC, 1968–1972
[image error]My father, Sgt. Peter Maddock, US Army, World War II

 

[image error]My father with his brothers, all in uniform, with their mother, taken in 1945. From left: Joe Maddock (Navy Bosun’s Mate), Mary Hrabchak Maddock, Peter Maddock (Army Combat Engineer), Mary Maddock, Nick Maddock (Merchant Marines, oil tanker), William (Bill) Maddock (Navy seaman), Michael Maddock (“Myers”) (Army Air Corps, Aerial Engineer/gunner on medium bombers – B25). “Maddock” was the Americanized name of the Slovak name, “Maydak.”

Just in time for the holidays!

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GOD, ME & A CUP OF TEA: 101 devotional readings to savor during your time with God

Looking for hope and encouragement in the everyday trenches of life? In this collection of my devotional readings, you’ll find what readers of my weekly award-winning newspaper column have found for more than 20 years: a cup of inspiration, a spoonful of encouragement, and a generous outpouring of the milk of God’s love . . . Savor and SELAH!

Now available for your Kindle. Print edition coming soon. Click here to download your copy. Makes a great gift, too!

WHAT OTHERS ARE SAYING:

“We have no skeletons in our closet because Michele writes about them all!” –Wilbur Dean Huey, Michele’s husband

“Pull up your chair and enjoy as Michele skillfully weaves the written Word and everyday stories into inspiration for us all!” –Melanie Rigney, author, speaker, former editor of Writer’s Digest

“I need a voice like Michele’s to speak to the seasons in my soul. She’s honest, practical, and inspired. I love her style.” –Virelle Kidder, author and conference speaker

 

 

 

Boundaries and Balance, Part 4: What Are You Walling In or Walling Out?

 

[image error]The Great Wall of China
Image in public domain

You are a shield around me, O LORD. —Psalm 3:3 NIV

In Old Testament times, walls surrounded cities, walls so thick houses were built into them. Today, instead of walls, we trust our security to the armed forces, police, and other groups created for our protection.

But walls still exist. The Great Wall of China, for instance, was constructed in ancient times to protect the country from invasions and raids from nomadic groups to the north. Today the sadly neglected wall is little more than a tourist attraction.

When it was built, however, China was not a communist nation, and the wall was not meant to keep citizens in, like the Berlin Wall.

Which brings me back to Frost’s poem, “Mending Wall,” and the line, “Before I built a wall I’d ask to know/What I was walling in or walling out.”

We all build walls around us, don’t we? Invisible walls to wall out the unwanted and to wall in that which we want to protect.

First, let’s look at what we wall out.

I, for one, wall out toxic people—people whose behavior has a noxious effect on me, on my emotions, on my thinking, and consequently on my behavior. They spew their poison, and, like yeast, it permeates every aspect of my life if I let it.

I can’t change these individuals, even if I tried. But I can pray for them. I can’t love them on my own, but I can ask God to love them through me.

But that doesn’t mean I have to spend time with them. After all, I’m only human. That’s why I have to wall them out. So their poison doesn’t affect me and those I love.

What other influences must I wall out? The godless and corrupt. Negative thinking. Negative speech. Anything that tears down and doesn’t build up. That which discourages me, robs me of hope, siphons love, and undermines my faith. That which would distract and derail me from God’s purpose for me.

What are we walling in?

That which we want to protect—our minds, our hearts, our spirits.

There’s so much out there bent only to destroy. Remember what Jesus, the Good Shepherd who encloses His fold in a sheep pen, said? “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10).

Walling in doesn’t mean you have a closed mind but that you’re protecting it from corrupting influences (Philippians 4:8–9, Romans 12:2).

It doesn’t mean that you become afraid to love, thinking that will protect your heart, but that you ask God to love others through you. Not your love, then, but His.

Walling in your spirit doesn’t mean you have a blind faith, but with single-minded devotion and commitment to God and His Word, you’re protecting the garden of your faith so it can grow to full maturity and produce an abundant harvest.

Take a close look at your life.

What are you walling in and walling out?

Lord God, be the wall around me. Whatever You allow in, I know You have a purpose for it. Help me to live my life in Your sheep pen and trust my Shepherd. Amen.

Read and meditate on Matthew 13:33 and John 10:1–10

A good article to read about toxic people and their dangerous influence is “What’s a Toxic Person & How Do you deal with One?” by Margarita Tartakovsky, MS, associate editor of

World of Psychology blog sponsored by Psych Central.

 

Boundaries and Balance, Part 3: Just Say “No”

 

“Just say a simple, ‘Yes, I will,’ or ‘No, I won’t.’” –Jesus, as quoted in Matthew 5:37 NLT

I should have just said “no.”

But how does a mother say “no” to a grown son who asks her to doggie-sit his year-old Australian shepherd for a week?

Tucker, the aforementioned Aussie, is the most hyperactive dog on the planet. Although he’s calmed down some and our son has worked with him, he’s still a pup with more energy than he knows to do with. Except race around the house every evening and chew everything in sight.

[image error]Okay, that’s an exaggeration. Not everything. Just a fake apple from a basket for decoration, my National Geographic bird book, one of my SmartWool merino hiking socks (my favorite pair), the charging cord for my phone, the cap for my stainless steel water bottle, and whatever paper, plastic, and pens he can get his teeth on. And I think he ate a bar of Dove soap this morning.

My son can’t come get him soon enough.

So why do I feel guilty saying that?

[image error]Who, me? Do I look like I’d chew up your bird book? Look at this innocent face.

Tucker does have his halo moments. And if I take him outside to let him burn off some of that energy, he won’t feel compelled to chew everything in sight. Okay – not everything.

He loves to chase a tennis ball but refuses to give it back to me. I don’t have time for this “try to get the ball from me” game.

Then the other day I came up with a brilliant ploy: I used two tennis balls. When he came back with one (and refused to drop it), I showed him the other then tossed it. That went on until – glory, hallelujah! – he wore out and went up by the woods line and plopped down in the leaves.

But then we lost one of the tennis balls, so we’re down to just one. And it’s too cold and wet outside to stand there waiting for him to drop the ball so I can toss it again.

So he’s stuck inside. With me. Who can’t say “no.”

In her book Conquering the Time Factor, author Julie-Allyson Ieron examines twelve myths that steal time from us, one of which I’ll address here: “If I turn you down, you’ll think I don’t value you, or worse, you’ll be disappointed in me.”

How many times do I say “yes” because I’m a people pleaser and don’t like to disappoint others, even when it’s an inconvenience (and even when it’s a dog)? And more than an inconvenience – it prevents me from doing what I’m called to do.

Priorities come in play here. It’s important to establish and maintain what’s most important in your life and use this as a plumb line for what to say “yes” to and what to say “no” to.

My priories, in order of importance, are my relationship with God, my family, self-care, and my service to God.

I’m not sure where to put “self-care” because if I don’t take care of myself, I can’t take care of my family or serve God the best I can. It’s like when the oxygen masks are deployed on a flight – you’re to put yours on first then help someone else with theirs.

The same is true with nurturing my relationship with God by spending time with Him in prayer and His Word. I must feed my own spirit and grow my own faith first if I’m to help others with theirs and fulfill my calling.

It’s okay to say “no” to things that don’t clearly fit in any of these priorities. It’s even okay to say “no” to family at times. Because sometimes I have deadlines. Because sometimes I just need “me time.” Because sometimes there’s something more important to tend to. Remember the saying about not letting the urgent crowd out the important?

And, as Julie-Allyson points out, I don’t have to give a complete, satisfactory explanation when I say “no.” Like Jesus said, “Let your ‘no’ be ‘no.’” That’s it. No explanations necessary.

What about those times the lines are blurred, the times when what you’re being asked to do doesn’t clearly fit in your established priorities?

Pray for wisdom, and God will give it to you (James 1:5).

I’m not saying I have it all put together. I don’t. I still struggle with saying “no.” I continue to wrestle with establishing and maintaining boundaries in my life.

But with God’s help, my vision is becoming clearer and my focus sharper.

What about you? When do you need to just say “no”?

Father, grant me the wisdom to know when to say “no” and the discipline to decline. May the only one I strive to please be You. Amen.

Read and meditate on Matthew 22:36–40

NOTE: Next week, we’ll finish the series “Boundaries and Balance” by examining the walls we construct in our lives.

© 2017 Michele Huey. All rights reserved.

Up Close and Personal

My husband says we have no skeletons in our closets because I write about them all! True, life is just fodder for writers. And I’ve had plenty of fodder!

A few months ago a writing colleague, award-winning author Linda B. Davis, asked me if I’d be willing to be featured on her “Let’s Chat!” blog, where she strives to help readers get to know authors up close and personal. So I sent her plenty of fodder!

I’m so thankful she did this, because seeing my own life story on her blog gave me a different perspective. After all, I’m always on the inside looking out. This time, with Linda’s skill as an interviewer and story presenter, I saw myself from the outside in.

Thank you, Linda, for featuring me on your blog and taking the time and care to put all the information I gave you together in a way that reveals who I am and a little bit of why I am this way. God bless you as you have been a blessing to others!

Click here to read today’s “Let’s Chat!” blog.