Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 50

The Deathbed Perspective, Part 3: Keeping the Faith

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.                – 2 Timothy 4:7 (NIV)

Today we look at the final phrase of Paul’s deathbed words to the young pastor Timothy: I HAVE KEPT THE FAITH. 

What does it mean “to keep the faith”?

When I hear the word “keeper,” I think of a zookeeper, someone who’s charged with guarding and caring for the animals. I also think of God Almighty, who is my keeper. He protects me, guards me, helps me, watches over me, and preserves me (Psalm 121).

Another definition of “keeper” is “someone or something you want to hang on to, keep, not throw away or lose” (my definition). I knew my husband was a keeper the night I met him.

No matter the meaning, though, it takes work—time and effort—to be a keeper, to consistently guard, properly care for, hang on to something or someone for a lifetime.

Now let’s look at the word “faith.” According to the Bible, “faith means being sure of the things we hope for and knowing that something is real even if we do not see it” (Hebrews 11:1 NCV). “Faith comprehends as fact what cannot be experienced by the physical senses” (Amplified).

Faith, to a Christian, is not just believing that God exists, but believing God is everything His Word says He is. It’s believing the promises we read in His Word and taking them personally. It’s believing God without a doubt—or in spite of it—when the world around us believes only in tangible things.

Now put those two words together: “keep” plus “faith.” Keep the faith. How, exactly, do we keep the faith?

By clinging to it in the storms, the silence, and the successes of life.

Let’s look at those times:

First, keep the faith through the storm. The Gospels record the times Jesus calmed the storm—and His disciples in the process.

But He doesn’t always calm your storms, does He? What do you do then? Lose your faith? Shake your fist in Heaven’s face? Stop believing He cares for you or that He even exists?

God knows there are times you must go through the storm—to grow, to learn, to become the person He’s molding you into. Like the words of the song, “sometimes He calms the storm, and sometimes He calms me.” Faith is believing, during the deep, dark times when the storms are raging all around, that He’ll never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5), that He’s with you always (Matthew 28:20), even if you don’t sense His presence. Faith is not feelings.

Second, keep the faith in the silence—God’s silence, that is. When your prayers go unanswered, when you feel alone and abandoned. Believe that God will answer in His time, His way, and always for the best. God’s silence doesn’t mean He’s not with you. Keep a journal of your prayers and when and how God answers. You’ll be amazed when you look back and see He was there all the time.

And finally, keep the faith in success—when things are going your way. We tend to forget God then, don’t we? We spit up a quick “thank you” and then enjoy our success as if it were all our doing.

Fight the good fight, finish the race, and keep the faith, Pilgrim, for “a crown of righteousness” (2 Timothy 4:8) with your name awaits you at the finish line.

Dear God, help me to guard, protect, and preserve my faith. Help me to both keep and be a keeper of the faith. Amen.

Remember Zephaniah 3:16–17 –Do not fear . . . let not your hands grow weak. The LORD, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives great victory. He will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing as on the day of a festival.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on 2 Timothy 4:6–8; Psalm 121; Hebrews 11

 May you be the keepers of the faith for your children and grandchildren. 

The Deathbed Perspective, Part 2: Finishing the Race

Image courtesy of Sura Nualpradid at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. – 2 Timothy 4:7 (NIV)

Last week, I began a three-part series called “The Deathbed Perspective.”

If you missed last week’s blog, let me briefly explain: The apostle Paul wrote his second letter to the young pastor Timothy from a deathbed perspective. He was in his last days on earth and penned the words we’re focusing on in this series: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

But those aren’t just words to die by—they’re words to live by.

This week we’re going to look at the second part of that verse: I HAVE FINISHED THE RACE.

I’ve always admired runners for their coordination and grace, which I never possessed, even when I was young and much lighter. Although I don’t run, I do understand what Paul is referring to and why he compares living the life of faith to running a race.

The writer of the letter to the Hebrews best describes how to run this race in chapter 12, verses 1–3.

First, “throw off everything that hinders,” or, as the New Living Translation phrases it, “strip off everything that slows us down.” Ever try to run with a pack on your back? Or with clunky boots instead of running shoes? Sin hinders. Sin trips us up midstride. Unforgiveness, holding grudges, anger, jealousy, envy, resentment, pride, being judgmental . . . the list goes on. Each unconfessed sin is like a rock in a pack on your back. So confess it to God, ask forgiveness, ask Him to pluck from your heart and mind, and fling it off!

Second, “run with perseverance.” Remember, the race we run is not a sprint—it’s a marathon. To persevere, we need fortitude—strength, courage, resilience, stamina, grit, determination, and endurance. At the start of a race, these qualities are in abundant supply, but as we run, they dwindle. When the race of life is getting too much for me, I’ve learned I can slow my pace or stop and rest a while. Sometimes we need that time to lie down in green pastures, beside quiet waters, to restore our souls (Psalm 23:2, 3). Replenishing that which was spent in the run is a good idea, too. Runners feed their bodies carbohydrates to give them energy. Spiritually, we feed ourselves on God’s Word—His promises—and reminders of how He’s come through for us in the past.

The third way we persist in the race is to keep our eyes on the finish line: “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” While I’ve never run a race, I have hiked a mile up a mountain and another mile down (neither was easy, believe me). Toward the end, every muscle in my body screamed with fatigue. Every pore oozed sweat. I just wanted my husband to pick me up and carry me the rest of the way. I finished the hike by putting one aching foot in front of the other and imagining my reward when I got back to the camper—a long, hot shower, clean clothes, and a soft seat by the campfire (with a good book).

For the joy at His finish line—the salvation of our souls—Jesus endured the cross and was given a throne of honor in heaven. I haven’t endured such shame and pain as He did. Few in this life of faith will. But the joy we have waiting for us at the finish line, is “exceedingly abundantly above all we can ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

Image courtesy of cindysarcady at Photobucket.com

So keep your eyes on the prize, pilgrim, put one foot in front of the other. Someday you’ll reach the finish line and rejoice.

Dear God, give me the strength, courage, and for titude I need to run the race of life. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on 2 Timothy 4:6–8; Hebrews 12:1–3

NOTE: Next week, we’ll look at the third part of that verse: “I have kept the faith.”

The Deathbed Perspective, Part 1: Fighting the Good Fight

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. – 2 Timothy 4:7 (NIV)

Call me crazy, but I tend to make important life decisions from what I call “the deathbed perspective.” I imagine myself on my deathbed, looking back on my life. At the end of my earthly sojourn, would I regret this decision or rejoice I chose to go that route?

Of course, we know when faced with a decision, we can always ask God for wisdom, and He’ll oblige (James 1:5). Perhaps this is God’s way of giving me that wisdom, because from the deathbed perspective, my priorities are clear, and I know the way I should take. So far, I’ve never regretted a decision made from the deathbed perspective.

In his second letter to the young pastor Timothy, the apostle Paul also had a deathbed perspective—and it truly was his deathbed. He was in his last days on earth—imprisoned in a cold dungeon, chained like a common criminal, alone, as he awaited his martyrdom.

Here he penned the words I told my husband I wanted on my tombstone: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

But those aren’t just words to die by—they’re words to live by.

This week we’re going to look at the first part of that verse: I have fought the good fight.

This tells me the Christian life is a battleground not a playground.* (See “For Further Study” below) The life of faith is a fight because faith doesn’t come easy and it doesn’t grow easily.

As believers we are in a war with God’s infernal enemy** (See “For Further Study” below), and we do battle daily in three arenas of warfare: the world, the flesh, and the devil (yes, he does exist).

The world is the spirit of the age, the anti-Christ attitude, the realm of the God’s enemy. Paul accurately described the spirit of the age in his letter to Timothy—read 2 Timothy 3:1–5.

The second arena is the flesh—our human, or carnal, nature, prone to sin, which is constantly at war with our spiritual nature (John 3:3; Romans 7 & 8; 1 Corinthians 2:6–14). Just look at the temptations to sin you face daily. This war will rage until our spirits are freed from our earthly bodies.

The third arena is the devil. When you receive Jesus as your Savior, you immediately switch sides in a war that goes back to Lucifer’s rebellion in heaven (Isaiah 14:12–15; Ezekiel 28:11–19; Luke 10:18). The enemy has been prowling around ever since, seeking the destruction of believers (1 Peter 5:8).

But we are not left without weapons.

First, put on your armor (Ephesians 6:10–18). After all, why would the Word advise us to put on our armor if we weren’t to do battle?

Second, pray. A praying Christian terrifies the enemy.

Third, know God’s Word. It is your sword (Ephesians 6:17). Learn to use it and use it often and well.

Fourth, resist. The Word tells us to “resist the devil and he will flee from you” (James 4:7; 1 Peter 5:9).

Fifth, remember that “greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world”(1 John 4:4).

Finally, remind yourself that the war is already won. It was won when the Son of God died in your place on a Roman cross then burst out of a sealed tomb three days later. Don’t believe me? Read Revelation.

I know, there are times you feel anything but a victor. You feel beaten, weak, small, forgotten, and alone.

But you’re not. Remember these verses:

When you feel beaten: You are more than a conqueror (Romans 8:37).
When you feel weak: His grace is all you need (2 Corinthians 12:9). Christ living in you gives you strength (Philippians 4:13).
When you feel small: You are loved by the God who created the universe (Psalm 36:5; Zephaniah 3:17). Nothing can separate you from His love (Romans 8:31-39). You are the apple of His eye (Psalm 17:8). You are engraved on the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49:16). You are precious to Him (Isaiah 43:4).
When you feel forgotten and alone: He will never forget you (Isaiah 49:15). He will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5). His Spirit lives in you (1 Corinthians 3:16).

Onward and upward, soldier. Keep fighting the good fight.

Remind me, Father God, I’m in this world not to frolic but to fight the good fight of faith. Help me to use my weapons often and well. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on 2 Timothy 4:6–8

NOTE: Next week, we’ll look at the second part of that verse: “I have finished the race.”

FOR FURTHER STUDY: 

*”In the early days (of the founding of America), when Christianity exercised a dominant influence over American thinking, men conceived the world to be a battleground. Our fathers believed in sin and the devil and hell as constituting one force; and they believed in God and righteousness and heaven as the other. These were opposed to each other in the nature of them forever in deep, grave, irreconcilable hostility. Man, so our fathers held, had to choose sides: he could not be neutral. For him it must be life or death, heaven or hell, and if he chose to come out on God’s side, he could expect open war with God’s enemies. The fight would be real and deadly and would last as long as life continued here below. . . .

“How different today: the fact remains the same but the interpretation has changed completely. Men think of the world, not as a battleground but as a playground. We are here not to fight, we are here to frolic. We are not in a foreign land, we are at home. We are not getting ready to live, we are already living, and the best we can do is to rid ourselves of our inhibitions and our frustrations and live this life to the full. This, we believe, is a fair summary of the religious philosophy of modern man.”

– A. W. Tozer, “The World: Playground or Battleground?” from The Best of A. W. Tozer, pp. 84–86.

** “You have also established a new relationship with the powers of darkness. Whatever you were before you became a Christian . . . you are now a sworn foe of the legions of hell.

“Have no delusions about their reality or their hostility. But do not fear them. The God inside you terrifies them. They cannot touch you, let alone hurt you. But they can seduce and they will try. They will oppose you as you obey Christ. If you play it cool and decide not to be a fanatic about Christianity, you will have no trouble from them. But if you are serious about Christ being your Lord and God, you can expect opposition. . . .

“You may have periods of darkness or of doubt. You may encounter painful struggles and discouragement. But there will also be moments of exultation and glory. And most important of all, you will become free.”

–John White, The Fight

Morning by Morning

Flat Tops Wilderness Area, Colorado, at dawn (Picture taken by Wilbur D. Huey)

In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation. — Psalm 5:3 (NIV)

My Bible study assignment was unique. I was to get up before dawn, take my Bible (and my cup of tea, of course), and sit in a chair outside facing the east. There I was to “lift up the day’s needs as the light begins to dawn and the sun rises,” then read assigned Scriptures (noted below in “Extra Tea”).

Because I live in the North (and the Bible study writer lives in Texas), spending time outside at that time of the day during this time of the year would not be good for these old bones.

So just before the sun came up over the wooded hillside behind my house, I parked myself in a rocking chair—inside—beside the dining room window facing west. While I didn’t see the sun actually rise, I watched its light, a sliver on the horizon at first, creep closer and closer to my house, blanketing field and forest, brightening up the dull pre-dawn landscape.

I read the assigned Scriptures. Nothing else. None of the four devotional readings that appear in my inbox every day. Not even the daily Bible study reading. Just the assigned Scriptures and Psalm 19 (a good psalm for this time of the morning).

As I lifted up the day’s needs—there were plenty, including a situation heavy on my heart—I pulled out an index card on which I’d written Philippians 4:6–7: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

And then, between verses six and seven, a still, small voice interrupted: “What is your request?”

How many times had I read those verses and never stopped to voice my requests? How many times had I been hesitant to speak what was really on my heart? To lay it all out, warts and all. Too many times I prayed what I thought would be “the right prayer”—the Christian prayer, withholding what I was really feeling, what I really wanted.

“Stop trying to be so spiritual,” I heard the gentle voice chide. “Tell Me what you really want.”

Did I even know what I wanted anymore?

I’m still sorting through the fallout, seeking what it is that I truly want and the courage to voice it. To put into words the feelings and desires I’ve been stuffing into a corner of my heart and soul. A corner now so full, what it contains is beginning to leak out.

Why had I stuffed it? Because I was afraid my true feelings and desires were sin. So instead of confessing, talking it over with God, who knows me better than I know myself, I hid it away. (See Psalm 32)

What’s the result of honestly presenting our requests to God?

“The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).

I’d like to challenge each of you, dear readers, to do this: Get up before dawn, take your Bible and cup of tea or coffee to a place where you can see the sun rise, read His Word, then lift up the day’s needs to your Father in heaven.

He’s waiting. He’s listening.

Help me, Father, to always be honest with You. Only then can we work together to weed out what’s hurting me and replace it with Your peace. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Genesis 8:22; Lamentations 3:22–23; Psalm 30

The Lost Kitty

Providence on one of her favorite perches – the top pf the entertainment center (April 2016)

“Rejoice with me,” said the shepherd, “I have found my lost sheep.” “Rejoice with me,” said the woman, “I have found my lost coin.” “We had to celebrate and be glad,” said the father, “because this brother of yours was . . . lost and is found.” – Luke 15:6,10, 32 (NIV)

I was getting ready for bed Wednesday evening when it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen Providence, my black cat, all evening. Usually she competes with Rascal, my other cat, for lap space when I plop down on the love seat, or she curls up on the chair by the woodstove.

I couldn’t remember seeing her that afternoon when I lugged in the groceries. Normally I’d be tripping over her—she loves to snoop in the shopping bags. Neither did I remember her getting underfoot before I left for town.

I checked her usual hiding places. I shook her bowl, rattling the cat food—which usually brings her racing to the kitchen. I opened and shut the patio door several times, thinking she’d hear it and come running if she was outside. I called her—inside and out, but she didn’t come.

I went to bed worried. A couple of times through the night I woke up and went to the kitchen to see if she was outside the patio door, peeking in.

It was still dark when I got up Thursday morning. No Providence. Now I was really concerned. Where could she be?

About an hour later, she came prancing into the kitchen. She’d been in the house all along! Apparently she found another hiding place.

Relief flooded me. I scooped her up and cuddled her close. She, of course, was oblivious to my pampering. She had no idea how worried I’d been. I’d thought I’d lost my kitty.

It reminded me of the three “lost” parables Jesus told: the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son. When something is lost, it’s not where it belongs.

Being lost spiritually means being apart from Christ, in danger of eternal separation from God.

We all know someone who is lost—a son or daughter, a spouse, a sibling, a parent, a friend, a co-worker, a neighbor. We’ve done all we can to “save” them.

But, remember, we don’t save them. That’s not our job. It’s not our job to convict or convince—that’s the Holy Spirit’s job (John 16:8). God has already done what’s needed to save them, through His Son (John 3:16; Acts 4:12; 1 John 1:7).

Our job is to live a godly life so they can see Christ in us. Our job is to pray for them: pray for the blinders to be removed (2 Corinthians 4:3–4), for their hearts to soften (Ezekiel 36:26), and for God to draw them to Him (John 6:44). Our job is to be ready to share the Good News when we have the opportunity–and when the Spirit so leads (1 Peter 3:15).

I may not see the answers to my prayers for my unsaved loved ones in my lifetime, but I will keep praying and with God’s help live the Gospel. And someday, I’ll have reason to say, “Rejoice with me . . .”

Father, help me to so live my life that the lost will want to be found. Amen.

“It is the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge and my job to love.” – Billy Graham

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Luke 15

Muddling Through

Photo courtesy of Pixabay

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 42:5 (NIV)

When my husband and I visited the Coastal Discovery Museum on Hilton Head Island, I became fascinated with sea turtles.

I learned that Mama Sea Turtle lays her eggs—as many as 120 at a time—in a nest she digs on a sandy beach, far enough away from the shoreline that the tides won’t reach it, yet close enough for the baby turtles to make their way to their ocean home once they’ve hatched and climbed out of the nest.

Sixty days after they’re laid, the eggs hatch, and the hatchlings make their way to the shoreline. Thirty to 35 years later, females will return to the beaches where they hatched to lay their own eggs.

The baby turtles’ lives are fraught with danger—mostly from predators on land and in the sea—but the period they’re most vulnerable is when they make their trek from the nest to the shoreline.

Once they’ve hatched, the little turtles head for the brightest horizon. Hence during hatching season the lights on beachfront buildings are turned off and residents are to close their window blinds at night so the hatchlings don’t head for the wrong light.

Not only are they exposed to predators on their dash to the sea, but also they’re in danger of dehydration from the sun. Many don’t make it. Yet helping them get from nest to surf is not in the best interest of the turtles. Although it’s a time fraught with danger, it’s necessary for the young turtles to make the trek themselves.

The crawl to the ocean allows them to “wake up”—remember they are only hours old. Alertness, mobility, and strength increase as they move. The trek is also an important part of a complicated “imprinting” process whereby their surroundings are imprinted on the brains of the baby turtles, so the females will return to the very beaches where they hatched to lay their own eggs.

I liken the hatchlings’ crawl to the ocean to the times in our lives when we, too, have to “muddle through.”

Let’s take a lesson from the sea turtle.

First, head for the right light. Many false lights clamor for our attention, but only one Light is the right one that will lead us to our eternal home. “I am the light of the world,” Jesus said. “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

Second, know the trek is necessary. The trial will make you stronger. It will refine you: “For you, O God, have tested us; you refined us like silver” (Psalm 66:10). It will develop perseverance and maturity: “The testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:3–4).

Also, trials purify your faith: “These (trials) have come so that your faith—of even greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine” (1 Peter 1:7).

And finally, the trials impress upon us that our lives are not random wanderings. We were made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26–27)—thus we bear His imprint. “He has set eternity in the hearts of men” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). After our sojourning, which will include many times of trial, we’ll find our way to home—and our Creator—again.

Thank you, Jesus, for being the Light that guides me through the muddling times and to home. Amen.

 Extra tea: Read and meditate on Psalm 42

ETC.

Another fascinating fact about sea turtles: The temperature of the sand where the eggs are laid determines the gender of the hatchlings. Cooler sand (85 degrees F) results in more males; warmer sand (85 degrees F) produces more females.

For more information about sea turtles hatching, visit the National Park Service webpage, “How to See a Sea Turtle Hatchling Release.” There are also many other informative websites on sea turtles. Just type “Sea Turtles” in your browser.

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Minute Meditations: Meeting God in Everyday Experiences

Whether you use these readings as part of your quiet time at the start of your day, when you need a quick pick-me-up throughout the day, or during a time of reflection at the end of your day, they will, in the words of a reader, “serve as an important reminder that God is always holding me tight.”

Silent Saturday

Sunrise over the Flat Tops Wilderness Area in the Colorado Rockies (Picture taken by Wilbur D. Huey)

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. –Psalm 30:5 (KJV)

I call the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday “Silent Saturday.”

As a child I faithfully attended Holy Thursday and Good Friday services. One of the things I remember about this time right before Easter is that no music was played in church. The organ was silent, as were the bells and other instruments. Songs were sung a cappella.

This period of silence impressed upon me the solemnness of the time when God’s Son was betrayed, condemned, crucified, and buried, paying the price for the sins of all mankind from the dawn of creation to the end of time.

I knew, of course, what would follow—Easter! The day Jesus burst out of that Mid-Eastern tomb in all His glory—alive forever! The return of music! The return of hope and joy.

Little, if anything, is said in the Gospels about “Silent Saturday.” For the Jews of that time, it was the Sabbath, a day of rest. A day no work was to be done.

We read nothing of what Jesus’ followers did that day.

We can only imagine what they felt: Grief. Hopelessness. Despair. Terror. If the Jewish authorities could do this to Jesus, who performed all those miracles and claimed to be God’s Son, what would they do to His disciples? So they hid, their dreams for the Kingdom and their places in it shattered, their future uncertain. The plan, they thought, went horribly, horribly wrong.

Or did it?

They had no idea that actually everything was going wonderfully, impossibly, exactly according to plan—God’s plan. They didn’t know they were in the waiting room—not the hiding place—between deep despair and unbridled joy. Between apparent defeat and glorious triumph. Between paralyzing terror and a holy boldness that would set the world on fire and launch the Jesus Movement.

But, oh! That first Easter morning—who could even begin to describe the wonder they experienced at the empty tomb, the joy at seeing Jesus alive? It was exceedingly, abundantly, above all they could have imagined.

But they didn’t know all that on Silent Saturday.

What about you?

Are you in a “Silent Saturday” time of your life? Are you dealing with grief, loss, bitter disappointment, discouragement, night-long weeping? Are you scraping at the bottom of the empty barrel of hope? Fighting despair and feel like you’re losing the battle? Thinking that your dreams, your future, are sealed up in a tomb of decay?

Hang on, dear one loved by God. Saturday will pass. The night of weeping will end.

The Son will burst over the horizon, His rays chasing away despair and flooding your soul with hope and joy.

It’s Silent Saturday, but get ready, Pilgrim. Sunday’s coming.

Thank You, God, for Easter, when hope springs eternal. Amen.

Read and meditate on John 16:16–33

Just released!

NOW AVAILABLE IN KINDLE VERSION.

Where it all began . . . with a devotional column I practically had to beg the newspaper publisher to let me write . . . to three devotional books and 19 years of a writing a column that won second place in the 2009 Pennsylvania Newspaper Association’s Keystone Press Awards. In 2000, 50 of my favorite columns, along with 8 poems, were published in book form (paperback). To mark the milestone of going into the column’s 20th year, the first book of meditations is now available for your Kindle for only $.99. Click here for more information.

Read my Spring 2016 newsletter for the latest news in my personal and professional life. If you’d like to subscribe to the quarterly “Memo from Michele,” click here. Each quarter, one subscriber, whose name will be announced in the newsletter, will receive a $15 Amazon gift card.

Happy Easter, dear readers!

Blessings,

Michele

Jesus’ Cross

Even in the darkest night,

When I just turn and toss,

When all seems hopeless, nothing’s right,

I remember Jesus’ cross.

That beam of lumber cut to size,

Too heavy to be borne

By One who stepped to Calvary’s call

Beaten, mocked, and scorned.

In the shadow of that cross,

How can I complain?

I have not sweat great drops of blood,

I’ve not endured such pain.

I’ve had no nails pierce tender flesh,

And no one’s spit on me.

No soldier’s opened up my back,

Nor stabbed my side with glee.

No jeering crowd shouts, “Crucify!”

Such loneliness I can’t feel.

Yet love for me was the reason why

He bled, and I was healed.

And by His stripes we are healed. – Isaiah 53:5 (NKJV)

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son,

that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.

–John 3:16 (NKJV)

(c) 1997 by Michele T. Huey. All rights reserved.

Where It All Began

God is real! He has promised never to leave us or forsake us. He speaks to us of His love, His power, and His presence through our everyday experiences, if only we will stop to listen.

Minute Meditations: Meeting God in Everyday Experiences is NOW AVAILABLE IN KINDLE VERSION.

Where it all began . . . with a devotional column I practically had to beg the newspaper publisher to let me write . . . to three devotional books and 19 years of a writing a column that won second place in the 2009 Pennsylvania Newspaper Association’s Keystone Press Awards. In 2000, I published 50 of my favorite columns, along with 8 poems in book form (paperback). To mark the milestone of going into the column’s 20th year, the first book of meditations is now available for your Kindle for only $.99.

God’s abiding presence in our lives is the theme of this collection of 58 devotional thoughts and poems. Previously published in my weekly newspaper column in the early days (1997-1999), each devotional reading contains a key Scripture verse, a short devotional, and a suggested Bible reading to read and meditate on. Whether you use these readings as part of your quiet time at the start of your day, when you need a quick pick-me-up throughout the day, or during a time of reflection at the end of your day, they will, in the words of a reader, “serve as an important reminder that God is always holding me tight.”

Download your copy today. Or gift someone with a copy. Simply click on “GIVE AS A GIFT” on the right side of the Amazon page.

On What Does Your Faith Rest?

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. —Isaiah 40:28 (ESV)

“The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” —Exodus 34: 6 (ESV)

I went steady with Mike for three months during the spring of my sophomore year in high school. Then, on the bus after our class picnic in June, he gave me a note.

“Don’t read this now,” he whispered. “But when you do, remember I’ll always love you no matter what.”

Dummy me believed him. Even after I read the “Dear Michele” letter. Even when I heard through the grapevine he was chasing a cheerleader. I put my faith in his promise and clung to those words all summer long. It wasn’t until school started in the fall that I learned of his deceit.

Broken promises. Broken hearts. Peter, too, made a promise he didn’t keep. He told Jesus he’d never desert Him, even if he had to die with Him. A few hours later, Peter denied three times he even knew Jesus, cursing and swearing to emphasize his point. All it took was one look from Jesus, and remorse flooded his soul. Weeping bitterly, he rushed out of the courtyard a broken man. The next time we read of Peter, though, he’s racing to the empty tomb. Peter never deserted his Lord again.

“God often uses our deepest pain as a launching pad for our greatest calling” (Daily Inspirational Quote). He did for Peter, and He’ll do it for us, too. But we have to muddle through pain, confusion, despair, guilt, self-recrimination—and often endure the silence of God while we struggle to find the light of hope.

Remember Job? A man whom God Himself described as “the finest man in all the earth . . . blameless—a man of complete integrity” (Job 1:8 NLT). In Job’s time of deepest need, God was silent, seemingly absent. God might have been silent, but He wasn’t absent—it only seemed that way.

When our pain and grief are overwhelming, when we can’t figure out what we did to deserve this, when we wonder where God is, our faith can falter. We wonder what good it does to believe the promises we find in God’s Word.

But is our faith in the promises? Or in the Person who made them?

“Faith,” wrote A. W. Tozer, “must rest on the character of God.” You see, a promise is only as good as the character of the person making it.

Because I have faith in God—in who and what He is, in His character—I have faith that He will keep His promises. Every single one of them.

In the dark times—in the dark night of the soul—remind me that You will never leave me or forsake me, not just because You promised, but because of Who You are. Amen.

Read and meditate on Matthew 26:31–35, 69–75