Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 47

Piece of Mind or Peace of Mind?

“Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!” – Luke 2:14 (NKJV)

I almost blew it. I almost made a bad situation worse, a complicated situation more complicated. The temptation was strong. My words and actions would’ve been justified—so I thought at that moment.

While I can’t give the details of what happened, I can say this: I was ready to give someone whose behavior was offensive—and had long been offensive—a piece of my mind. I’d kept my mouth shut far too long, I reasoned. Enough was enough.

Before I picked up the phone, though, I took a prayer timeout. I slipped into my bedroom, shut the door, dropped to my knees, and poured out my anger, frustration, and pain to my heavenly Father. The battle between what I wanted to do and what I knew I should do—what God would want me to do—was intense.

The needle gauge on my faith tank was pointing to Empty. Faith that God would answer my prayers for change, for healing for the persons involved, for a transformation of heart, mind, and spirit—something only God can do.

I left my prayer room still shaken, still trembling with emotion, clinging to something called self-control for all I was worth.

Over the past week, I’ve had time to reflect on what happened, and I’ve realized several things:

I can’t control another person’s words or actions, however hurtful they are, or their impact and consequences. I can only control, with God’s help, my own actions and reactions, which should reflect the growing fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Acting in the heat of the moment, succumbing to pressure, saying words that can’t be unsaid, doing something than can’t be undone, is never the right choice. Taking the situation, in all its ugliness, your emotional turmoil, your jumbled thoughts to God, is. It’s never right to give a person, however offensive they are, a piece of your mind. It is right to set firm boundaries and let them know, in a loving way, where those boundaries are.

Convincing another person they’re wrong is not my job. I need to remind myself often, “It’s the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge, and my job to love.” (Billy Graham) Even when loving is hard. Even when there’s no love left in your heart for that person. Even when you don’t even want to allow God to love that person through you.

I can’t always be the peacemaker, no matter how hard I try. But I can pray for God’s peace to prevail—in the situation and in my own heart, mind, and spirit. I can pray that my negative emotions shrivel and die, crowded out by the love, joy, and peace that come from God.

Sometimes we have to live with the thorn in the flesh, but God’s grace is all we need to endure and triumph over it (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).

And finally, God reminded me of another impossible situation, many years ago, that I thought would never change—another person who was a thorn in my flesh for a long time despite my prayers. In His time and in His way, God worked a miracle, and that person was transformed.

Today is the Second Sunday of Advent, when we light the candle of Peace. While we have little control over external peace—or the lack of it—we do have control over our own inner peace. It’s simply a matter of submitting to the Prince of Peace.

As I light the second Advent candle, Lord, may Your peace prevail in my heart, mind, and spirit—and be a beacon of light in a hurting world that so needs Your peace. Amen.

Read and meditate on the following PEACE verses:

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. – Romans 12:18 (NIV)

“Blessed are the peacemakers.” – Jesus, as quoted in Matthew 5:9 (NIV)

Therefore let us pursue the things which make for peace and the things by which one may edify another. – Romans 14:19 (NKJV)

For God is not a God of disorder but of peace. – 1 Corinthians 14:33 (NIV)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4:6­–7 (NIV)

 Make every effort to live in peace with everyone. – Hebrews 12:14 (NIV)

. . . be at peace with each other. – Mark 9:50 (NIV)

Turn from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. – Psalm 34:14 (NIV)

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. – Isaiah 9:6 (NIV)

You will keep him in perfect peace, Whose mind is stayed on You, Because he trusts in You. – Isaiah 26:3 (NKJV)

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” – Jesus, as quoted in John 14:27 (NIV)

 

Chicken Soup, Nudgings, and Hot Seats

 

 

“Madonna Nativity” (c) 2011 Waiting for the Word, Creative Commons

The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him “Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.” – Matthew 1:23 (NIV)           

I can never remember a time when I doubted the presence of God in my life.

There are, however, occasions I struggle with my feelings. Sometimes the One who promised never to leave or forsake me seems to do just that.

Like the time I was in the hospital after giving birth to my second child by C-section. I’d developed a mild but mysterious fever, so my doctor determined I shouldn’t nurse my baby until the matter was resolved. While I accepted this outwardly, my heart cried, I want my baby!

The hospital was miles from family and friends, and winter had arrived, so I had few visitors. Feeling miserable and abandoned, I remembered my mother’s homemade chicken soup, which she made when I was sick, and which never failed to make me feel better. Suffering with Alzheimer’s disease, though, she wouldn’t be making it for me now. Lord, I prayed, when I get home, I want some homemade chicken soup. 

Chicken soup

Eventually the cause of the fever revealed itself, and I was discharged to spend another week in bed. A day after I got home, my friend Sharon arrived, bringing supper. Yep, homemade chicken soup.

Coincidence? I never believed it was. For me, it was God-incidence.

In the 37 years since, God’s presence in my life has been evident over and over. Not every time I think I need a tangible sign, but enough to bolster my faith and hope in the silent, where-are-you-God times.

Like the time one November I sensed a definite nudging towards the end of my quiet time to go to town and get groceries. Go now, the inner voice urged. My prayer chair became a hot seat. I glanced out the window. Overcast, but no precipitation.

We all know how fickle the weather could be in these parts. Especially in late November. I checked the forecast online and knew that if I didn’t go then, our Thanksgiving would be minus homemade pumpkin pie with extra creamy Cool Whip, my special candied yams, and the aroma of turkey wafting through the house, unless I wanted to fight Old Man Winter on the 12-mile drive to town and back. I left within the hour—and got home just as the snow, ice, and wind arrived.

Then there are the Bible verses that leap off the page and burn themselves into my mind and heart, the gentle proddings, the encouragement from others just when I need it. I could go on, but like the apostle John wrote as he closed his gospel, “If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written” (John 21:15 NIV).

Today is the first Sunday of Advent, a time for preparing our hearts for the celebration of Immanuel’s birth. As the first Advent candle is lit, remember the times God showed up in your life, the occasions He clearly whispered and sometimes shouted, “I’m here!”

During this Advent season, be like Brother Lawrence, the monk who saw God even in the hectic kitchen where he worked, and “practice the presence of God.”

Because He’s here, you know. For He has said, “Never will I leave you. Never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5), “I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

As I light the first Advent candle and begin preparing for the celebration of the birth of Your Son, dear God, give me an increasing awareness of Your abiding presence in my life. Amen.

Read and meditate on Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:18–25

Expectations

 

View from our campsite along the Maple River in Michigan, October 2016

 

“We can’t see the road ahead, so we must take it as it comes, not as we wish it would be” (Our Daily Bread, 10/20/16).

  “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.” – Jesus, as quoted in Matthew 6:34 (The Message)

Every year my husband and I spend weeks getting ready for our annual weeklong fall camping trip. Dean works on the camper and the truck, and packs the man things (tools and that kind of stuff), while I plan our destination, route, activities, and meals, as well as clean the camper and pack all the food and clothes.

This year, I spent the three days prior to our departure preparing meals for 10 days on the road so that all we’d have to do was “heat and eat.”

My plan was to read, relax, and recharge, so I crammed a large tote bag with the stack of magazines and books I’d saved to read, and downloaded several novels on my Kindle. I envisioned myself reading while Dean drove, and spending hours plopped in a chair by the campfire, lost in a world of words.

And since we both love to hike, I researched the trails in the areas where we’d be camping.

The plan was to spend a weekend at a campground in Fancy Gap, Va., with our daughter, Jaime, and her family, then drive to Michigan to visit our son, who’d moved there at the end of last year.

So, did everything go according to plan?

Of course not.

First, there was the drenching rain for the first two days, thanks to Hurricane Matthew. But not to worry. I’d packed plenty of games, and our campsite had cable TV.

But when sun finally came out on Sunday, I couldn’t go hiking with Dean, Jaime, and Adam because I had to keep my leg elevated for 24 hours. I’d stumbled into the metal step to the camper Saturday evening, which warranted a trip to the ER 20 miles away and seven stitches.

Then, there was road fatigue.

Whatever was I thinking when I planned the trip? By the end of the two-day drive from Virginia to Michigan—on roads we were totally unfamiliar with—I was road weary, cranky, and sore. Since the route we took was new, I couldn’t enjoy the sights or read. I had to be the navigator. It’s a wonder we’re still married.

We did have a lovely campsite along the lazy Maple River in Michigan—and, because our stay was through the week during the fall, we had the campground to ourselves. But there weren’t any trails to hike. And even if there had been, we couldn’t have gone because Dean’s knee, which he wrenched at the end of August, was too painful.

On Sunday morning, we headed for Pennsylvania in a downpour, arriving home nine hours later—after 10 days, five states, and 1,880 miles.

Was I disappointed in the trip?

Not at all. I’ve learned the difference, you see, between plans and expectations. A plan is a detailed scheme about what you want (or plan) to do. An expectation, on the other hand, is a belief  you’ll achieve something.

See the difference? We planned our trip and prepared for it, but I didn’t set any expectations. I let the trip unfold before us, moment by moment—and the unexpected became an adventure of discovery instead of a disappointment.

On the journey of life, I’ve learned, if you want to be happy, don’t expect anything, except to expect God to work His sovereign will in your life. Plan, prepare, pray—then leave the rest in His hands.

Thank You, Father, that You travel with us on this journey called life. Amen.

 

 

Unfinished Projects

 

“Be strong, all you people of the land,” declares the LORD, “and work. For I am with you.” –Haggai 2:4 (NIV)

Have you ever started a project with gusto, then quit when it became too hard to complete? Or perhaps you ran into unexpected roadblocks and got tired of fighting. Or maybe the task was too tedious. Or became more expensive than you’d originally thought it would be.

But for whatever reason, the project was abandoned. Our attics, garages, and spare rooms are filled with unfinished projects.

Take my study, for instance. It’s amazing how quickly it becomes disorganized, overrun with paper, books, documents, and other stuff I plan to look at “sometime.” It’s not a hard job—sorting through the papers and documents—just tedious.

At the beginning of August I couldn’t take it any longer and delved into the stacks, boxes, and drawers. I spent an entire Saturday going through a large box of files, some dated as far back as 1993—most of which were pitched. By the end of the day, a stack of garbage waited by the door to be hauled away.

Sad to say, but it’s mid-November and I’ve only gotten back to it. Maybe by the end of the year I can cross this project off my to-do list.

I don’t know about you, but an unfinished project bothers me. It may be out of sight, but it’s definitely not out of my mind. I can avoid it so long then I have to get back to it.

Some of my projects are ones God has called me to. Like writing. I began the second book in a mystery series earlier this year, ran into roadblock after roadblock, lost my enthusiasm for the story, and quit. I’ve started two other stories I haven’t finished. Lately I sense God nudging me to get back to them.

Unfinished projects—even the ones God gives us—aren’t anything new.

The Jews returning to Jerusalem after the exile in 538 B.C. also had an unfinished project they were forced to deal with. They were supposed to rebuild the temple but worked on it only two years, setting the foundation, before they ran into opposition, became discouraged, and quit. After giving them 14 years to get back to it, God finally sent the prophet Haggai to stir them up again. They heeded God’s message, got back to work, and finally finished the temple five years later.

As I read this short Old Testament book, I saw three things we can expect when God gives us a project.

First, expect sacrifice and hard work. Sometimes what God calls us to do isn’t easy or convenient. But obedience isn’t an option for the believer.

Second, expect opposition. When you’re obeying God, His infernal enemy will do all he can to thwart you, discourage you, frustrate you, make you inefficient and your efforts ineffective. Just remember: The battle is not yours, but God’s (2 Chronicles 20:15). So don’t be discouraged or afraid. Do what you were called to do. You work. Let God fight.

And finally, expect a blessing. Especially the blessings of His presence and His Spirit, who will give you the strength and courage to complete the task.

Forgive me, Father, for abandoning the work You’ve called me to do. Give me the strength and courage to get back into it so You can fulfill Your purpose through me (Psalm 138: 8). Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on the book of Haggai

 

Even When You Don’t Understand

 

But the LORD is in His holy temple. Let all the earth keep silence before Him. – Habakkuk 2:20 (NKJV)

Have you ever prayed, “How long, O Lord?” Or wondered if God really does hear and answer?

Looking at world conditions today, do you question God’s sovereignty, asking, “Is He really in control? And if He is, why does He allow such evil to exist?”

Perhaps you’ve even wondered if God even exists.

If so, join the prophet Habakkuk—and the rest of us.

Who’s Habakkuk, you may ask. An Old Testament prophet who questioned what was going on in the world around him and how God was and wasn’t dealing with it.

The book he wrote (three chapters tucked away in the latter part of the Old Testament), rather than a direct message from God to the people of Judah, is a dialogue between Habakkuk and God. It’s a record of Habakkuk’s wrestling with the same issues we wrestle with today, God’s answers, and Habakkuk’s response to those answers.

Written in about 607 B.C., the book describes the social corruption and spiritual apostasy of God’s chosen people, the Israelites. Habakkuk asks God two questions: “Why does evil in Judah go unpunished?” And, when God answered that judgment was coming by way of the Babylonians, “How can a just God use wicked Babylonia to punish a people more righteous than themselves?”

Does that sound familiar? I don’t have to go into detail about social corruption and spiritual apostasy in today’s world, do I?

But I’d like to share with you five truths I gleaned from the book of Habakkuk—truths I believe Habakkuk also learned.

First, God is sovereign. No matter how chaotic and out-of-control the world seems to be, God’s plan and purpose will prevail. He is in control.

Second, God’s timetable is not our timetable. “For a thousand years in Your sight is like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night” (Psalm 90:4).

Third, God always keeps His promises. What He says He’ll do, He’ll do. The Old Testament is filled with God’s promises and how He kept them, prophecies that history has shown to be fulfilled. How can we doubt that the prophecies that haven’t been fulfilled to date will not be? As He told Habakkuk, “For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and not delay” (Habakkuk 2:3).

Fourth, trust God—wait patiently (hard to do sometimes, I know) and live by faith (not fear). “The righteous will live by his faith” (Habakkuk 2:4b) was God’s answer to Habakkuk—and to us. Be faithful. Keep doing what is right regardless of what’s going on around you. Remember the words of Paul to the Galatian church: “Let us not get tired of doing what is right, for after a while we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t get discouraged and give up” (Galatians 6:9 TLB).

And finally, it’s okay to question God—as long as you’re truly seeking to understand Him, His ways, and His Word and not questioning Him out of defiance and rebellion.

Habakkuk’s book ends with a prayer of praise to God even though he didn’t understand God’s ways.

What about you? Will you still praise Him when you don’t understand?

May I cling to You, Father, even when—especially when—I don’t understand. Amen.

NOTE: Too often we avoid the Old Testament with the mistaken assumption very little is relevant to our modern world. The more I read and study God’s Word, the more I’m convinced that all of it—I repeat, all of it—applies to us today.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on the book of Habakkuk

 

 

ALL of It, Lord?

 

“For everything in heaven and earth is yours . . . Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand.” – 1 Chronicles 29:11, 14 (NIV)

It isn’t often separate readings during my quiet time combine to tell me the same thing, but that’s what happened one Friday morning a few weeks ago.

First, Psalm 24:1 jumped out at me: “The earth is the LORD’s and everything in it.”

Then the daily devotional reading by A. W. Tozer challenged me in an area I’d rather avoid. “There is no limit to what God can do in this world if we would dare to surrender before Him with a commitment like this,” he wrote. And then he included a prayer in which those who prayed gave all they had back to God: self, family, business, possessions.

“Take it all, Lord.”

Uh . . . all? Like in everything? Didn’t I just give my ministries and service back to Him not too long ago? And my family years ago. And myself—decades ago. Didn’t God and I have that settled?

“Take it all, Lord.”

Everything, Lord? Like my beautiful house, which we finally finished after 35 years? My shiny, ruby red F-150, which pulls our camper? My clothes . . . Okay, You can have my clothes. I need a new wardrobe anyway.

Well, I don’t need one, but I sure would like some new duds for church on Sunday. And some nice, soft, cotton, long-sleeve tops and comfy pants to wear while I work at my computer at home. And a new winter coat. You know how long I’ve put off getting a new winter coat. The one I have has a broken front zipper and the buttons don’t stay buttoned.

But I put all that on my Christmas list. I just marked the pages in the L.L. Bean catalog and wrote down the colors and size, as my husband told me to do. It’ll make Christmas shopping a lot easier for him.

Everything.

I didn’t even pray for God to make me willing to be made willing. I gulped (really, I did) and, with not a little trepidation and hesitation, prayed the prayer, surrendering all to Him.

Funny thing. I’d barely breathed the “Amen” when it hit me: I wasn’t giving God anything that wasn’t His to begin with. Everything I have He has given to me—not to own, because it’s all still His—but to use. For myself and for others.

He blesses me that I may bless others.

When King David prayed the prayer in today’s Scripture reading, he was blown away by the people’s generous donations for the construction of the temple. David himself had given much from his personal coffers. And, being king and all, he wasn’t poor.

But in his prayer, he acknowledged that “everything in heaven and earth is yours”—note everything—and that they had given only what God had given to them.

A far cry from our attitude today. Our stuff is our stuff. Not God’s. Maybe He gave it to us, but it’s all ours now. Right?

Wrong.

Jesus told us where we would find true riches—riches that moth and rust cannot destroy, stored where thieves cannot break in. Our true riches are in heaven. Our real treasure is heaven.

Everything else is just stuff.

Thank you, Father, for reminding me that there is only one thing I need—You. And if I have You, I have everything. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on 1 Chronicles 29:10­–20; Matthew 6:19­–24

 

Anemic Christian

 

My tears pour down like a river, because people do not obey your law. – Psalm 119:136 (TEV)

I was in high school when I first discovered I’d been anemic as a child. I wanted to give blood in a blood drive, but my father told me I couldn’t.

“What’s anemic?” I asked him.

“It’s when you don’t have enough iron in your blood,” he told me.

I never discovered why I was diagnosed with anemia, but over the years, I found if I took supplements, I felt more energetic and better all around.

Anemia can be caused by a lack of iron, vitamin B-12 or folic acid, all of which help in producing and transporting healthy, oxygen-rich red blood cells throughout the body. Oxygen nourishes and enables each part to function at full capacity. Without it, you can become tired, weak, and forgetful.

I’ve come to use the term anemic to refer to anything weak and ineffective. An egg, for example, is anemic if the yolk is a pale yellow instead of a rich, golden color. When I taught, a student’s barely audible response was anemic.

Even Christians can be anemic. God brought this to my attention as I read Ezekiel 9. Through the prophet, He warned the Israelites that judgment for their idolatry would be certain and swift.

“Go throughout the city of Jerusalem,” God commanded the judgment angel in Ezekiel’s vision, “and put a mark on the foreheads of those who grieve and lament over all the detestable things that are done in it.”

I sensed God asking me, “Would you receive a mark on your forehead?”

No. I wouldn’t. My attitude toward the sin in the world around me and those living without God had become callous. “I’ve made my choice and I’m going to heaven,” I reasoned. “They’ve made their choice, too.”

This isn’t the attitude God wants in His followers. I was an anemic Christian. A lack of faith had rendered me weak, tired, and forgetful of my responsibility as one of God’s own. My heart had become a heart of stone, not a heart of flesh, one God could use (Ezekiel 36:26).

Yes, I write an inspirational column and publish books of devotionals and Christian fiction. I serve as a lay pastor for a small congregation. I’ve produced a daily inspirational radio program and taught in a Christian school. But, I realized, it’s easy to evangelize behind a newspaper column, a book, a microphone, or a teaching podium. It was the one-on-one, day-by-day, personal reaching out to others I’d been avoiding.

Why? Because I fear rejection. It hurts. It’s embarrassing, even though I know it’s not me they’re rejecting, but the God who loves them and wants them with Him in heaven forever. I forget the Holy Spirit is the One who does the convicting and convincing (John 16:8). That Jesus’ blood, not mine or any words of mine, is what will remove their sin and make them acceptable for Heaven. That God alone draws the lost to Himself (John 6:44).

All I am is the voice, the channel, the instrument God uses to reach them. But I must be willing, and I must have a heart that breaks for the sin I see around me.

To cure my anemic Christianity, I need supplements: genuine, heartfelt prayer; introspective, digging-deep Bible reading; meditating on what I’ve read and applying it to my life; and spending time with those whose fire for God is blazing.

Only then will I find the strength to proclaim the cure for the sin that ails the world: the cleansing, love-rich Blood of the One who died so we may live.

Lord, give me a love for the lost, a heart for the hurting, a sorrow for the sin in the world, and a holy boldness to proclaim Your message of love and hope. Amen.

Read and meditate on Ezekiel 9:1–8

The Money Pit

 

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. – Matthew 13:44 (NIV)

 One summer day in 1795, young Daniel McGinnis found what appeared to be a depression in the ground. The teenager, who lived on a small island off the coast of Nova Scotia called Oak Island, knew the area was reputed to have been frequented by pirates—Oak Island was one of 300 small isles in the Mahone Bay, perfect for hiding pilfered treasures. So Daniel returned the next day with two of his friends and started digging.

He never found anything. What he did do, though, was spark a treasure hunt that spanned 200 years, cost millions of dollars, and claimed half a dozen lives, including a daredevil motorcyclist and his 18-year-old son in 1959.

Excavators, digging and drilling to nearly 200 feet, discovered charcoal, putty, spruce platforms, oak chests, layers of wood and iron, coconut fibers, parchment, loose pieces of metal, a cement vault, a human hand, a mysterious inscription on a stone, a flood tunnel, booby traps—but no treasure.

What really lies at the bottom of “The Money Pit”? Treasure buried by Captain Kidd, who used the area for R & R and to repair his ships? The original works of Shakespeare or Sir Francis Bacon? The crown jewels of France, which vanished four years before McGinnis stumbled onto the site? The long-lost Holy Grail? Or is the Money Pit nothing more than an old ammo dump?

No one knows. But who can resist the lure of buried treasure? Note the popularity of such films as National Treasure, Fool’s Gold, and Pirates of the Caribbean. Why do such stories appeal to us? Perhaps because we all harbor a secret dream that we will find a treasure that will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams. What wouldn’t we give for a chance at it?

That’s why Jesus used this analogy in describing the kingdom of heaven.

“The kingdom of heaven,” He said, “is like treasure hidden in a field.” Since there were no banks in the first century, it wasn’t uncommon to hide treasure in the ground. If the person who buried it died without disclosing the whereabouts of his cache, it was finders keepers.

“When a man found it,” Jesus continued, “he hid it again, and then went and sold all he had and bought that field.”

That’s how valuable the kingdom of heaven is. The late missionary Jim Elliot understood this.

“He is no fool who gives that which he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose,” he once said. Elliott was one of five missionaries murdered by the Auca Indians.

Mother Teresa also understood this, as did Hudson Taylor. And William Tyndale. And many others like them who gave all they had in order to serve the King. They knew that what they relinquished was minuscule compared to what they received—the kingdom of heaven. They gave that which they could not keep to gain that which they could not lose.

Now, that doesn’t mean we have to run off and become missionaries when we submit to the rule of King Jesus. But it does mean that our priorities change. Our perspective changes. What we once thought was so important no longer is. It means that, like Paul, we say, “Everything else is worthless when compared with the priceless gain of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I may have Christ” (Philippians 3:8 NLT).

What about you—where is your treasure?

Dear God, I still cling to things that moth and rust can destroy, and thieves can steal. Remind me daily of where my real treasure lies. Amen.

Extra-Tea: Read and meditate on Philippians 3:7–8

Magnifying Glass or Prism?

 

You’re to be light, bringing out the God-colors in this world. – Matthew 5:14 (The Message)

 When I ran into an old friend in the supermarket—seems like the grocery store has become the social center of today—we spent several minutes chatting and getting caught up. We’d been in a young mothers’ Bible study together years, actually decades, ago, and such shared experiences kind of cement the bond we women have, even though time and life have a way of leading us on separate paths.

“What have you been up to?”

“How are the kids?”

“You look great!”

Somewhere in the conversation, I said, without thinking, “If we’re not in the center of God’s will, we’re going to be restless and miserable.”

Immediately I sensed I’d crossed a line. I thought about my statement the whole way home, hoping I hadn’t offended her.

While I believe the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19–20) is given to every believer, and thus is my duty, too, I’m not bold—some would call it being “pushy”—when it comes to what we Christians call “witnessing.” While there are those who just seem to have a gift for telling a perfect stranger about Jesus, I’m not one of them—unless I sense God’s nudging. Words on paper, OK. Face-to-face, huh-uh. I’m too much a chicken. “Preach the gospel at all times and, if necessary, use words” is more my style of evangelism.

But, even in that capacity, I wonder if I’m doing the job right. After all, I’m only human, and I fail every day. And such failures are the reasons why non-believers accuse us believers of being hypocrites. “I’m not a saint—I’m a sinner saved by grace,” “I’m not perfect, just forgiven” aren’t excuses or reasons to allow myself to blatantly disregard what God has told me in His Word.

But like the apostle Paul, “when I want to do good, I don’t; and when I try to not to do wrong, I do it anyway” (Romans 7:19 LB). Hence I have no right to judge others.

Yet I have this wonderful life God has given me (John 10:10), a guidebook to life on earth (2 Timothy 3:16–17), a beautiful-beyond-description home in heaven awaiting me (John 14:2), and the key to it (1 John 5:11–12). Shouldn’t I share this knock-your-socks-off story with others?

Yes. In the words of the late Pirate announcer, Bob Prince, there is nooooooo doubt about it. After all, James says, a faith without works is a dead faith (James 2:18). “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says” (James 1:22).

And doing what it says is to live my life so that all that I do is pleasing to God, letting His light shine in and through me. “I’m putting you on a light stand,” Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:15–16 (The Message). “Now that I’ve put you there . . . shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.”

A magnifying glass makes things look bigger than they really are, like other folks’ faults. A prism, on the other hand, bends the light passing through it, breaking it up into a rainbow of colors that showers those nearby.

Dear God, let me not be a magnifying glass, but a prism. Amen.

Extra Tea: Read and meditate on Matthew 5:13–16

Under the Broom Tree

“What are you doing here?” – 1 Kings 19:9 (NIV)

“I have had enough, LORD,” Elijah whined as he dropped under the broom tree, “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors” (1 Kings 19:4).

What was it that reduced a powerful man of God to a sniveling wimp cowering in the caves of the Mid-Eastern wilderness? He’d just come off an astounding victory against 850 false prophets in a day-long mountaintop duel, then ran 16 miles, on supernatural strength, preceding the thundercloud that would end a 3 1/2-year drought.

Why, after such a dazzling display of God’s power, was he ready to throw in the mantle?

An evil queen threatened to kill him.

So why didn’t he trust God to take care of this situation, as he had all the other times?

Because Elijah was human. Because he was discouraged and depressed. The Mount Carmel victory wasn’t a shutout. Queen Jezebel, although she lost all her prophet puppets, still spewed evil from the throne. The source of the nation’s corruption was still alive and threatening.

Discouragement and depression can weaken the strongest – even those who count on God to provide victory against a world of sin. Elijah was in the midst of an effective, powerful ministry when he fled.

Perhaps he thought the Mount Carmel episode would put an end to the depravity that blighted Israel. Perhaps he thought he’d finally “arrived” – and was, by his own words, “better than my ancestors.” Perhaps he forgot that the miracles wrought and the triumphs won were not achieved through his own power. He was but a conduit of El Shaddai.

What he didn’t see was that his ministry wasn’t an end in itself – it was a link in a chain.

God, in His mercy and compassion, was gentle with his overwrought servant. First He sent an angel to nourish Elijah’s worn-out body. Then, after Elijah plodded hundreds of wilderness miles on foot, after 40 days and 40 nights with no food, as he huddled in a dark, damp cave on Mount Horeb, God asked him a simple question: “What are you doing here?”

The omniscient God didn’t ask because He needed an answer. When God asks a question, it’s because He wants to point something out to us.

Elijah had abandoned the ministry field and was in full retreat. Rather than chastise the discouraged prophet, God reminded him that, contrary to what he thought, he was not alone: 7,000 Israelites remained faithful.

“Go back,” God commanded Elijah. Then He gave him a vision for the future: two others would provide political leadership in the next generation, and Elijah would be given an assistant, a prophet-in-training to take over when the time came to pass on the mantle of ministry.

I, too, get so discouraged at times I want to quit – quit teaching Bible study, quit writing, quit the ministries God has called me to. I don’t see the results I expect for all my efforts, and it seems I’m expending precious time and energy for nothing.

Ministry is a heavy mantle, and God has called us all to be His ministers in one way or another (Matthew 25:35–40; 28:18–20). Times of deep discouragement and despair will come, and our wilderness caves invite us to retreat in self-imposed solitary confinement.

But the One who called us will not leave us there alone. He will nourish us, comfort us, encourage us, and, when we are ready, send us back to the ministry He has called us to.

Thank You, Lord, for the wilderness experiences that remind me that You and You alone are the source of the power I need to serve You. Amen.

Extra-tea: Read and meditate on 1 Kings 19