Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 52

New book released

MURDER, MAYHEM & MONEY  – JUST THE FORMULA FOR ROMANCE  

Reclusive romance novelist Melody Harmon, her career on the skids, flees to her writing retreat in the Pennsylvania mountains rather than team up with Don Bridges, an ex-cop turned suspense writer. When she discovers caches of cash—to the tune of a million dollars—she assumes it’s her late husband’s gambling winnings. Then dead bodies start popping up. Don wants to help her solve the mystery, but she doesn’t know if she should trust him. Can Melody overcome the pain of betrayal and learn to trust before the killer strikes again?

“I was compelled to keep reading long past dinnertime and bedtime. Michele’s vivid descriptive details and fast-moving action scenes kept me in my seat from the first page to the last.” – Karen O’Connor, author and speaker

“In this novel, Michele Huey balances the backdrop of the beautiful western Pennsylvania mountains with mysterious circumstances to produce a Christian novel that will give the reader a cardiac workout. The writing stuns the reader with its poetic turn of phrase, skillful weaving of clues, and loveable characters. This book will keep you guessing.” – Cass Wessel

The first book in the PennWoods Mystery series  NOW AVAILABLE ON AMAZON.  

Click here to download your Kindle edition or order a print copy.

When JOY Jumps Out at You

Come, let us sing with joy to the LORD. – Psalm 95:1 (NIV)

It was the funniest thing.

Not funny in a humorous way. Not really odd or strange, either. But, in hindsight, appropriate.

Through the final month of 2015, one word kept jumping out at me: “joy.”

Now, Christmas is everywhere in December, and joy is a part of the season. So why did it seem as though that one word was trying to tell me something?

At first I didn’t think anything of it. But when this occurred time and time and time again, in different scenarios, I began to take notice.

The year’s challenges had crescendoed into a drumroll, and joy for me was anything but thriving. Normally when someone asks me how I am, I answer, with a hearty smile, “Great!’ or “Good!” (notice the exclamation points).

But in recent months the best answer I could come up with (without lying) was an anemic “okay.” With a pitiful shrug.

What had happened to my joy?

It was getting snuffed out by the stuff of life – and I was letting it happen.

So when “joy” jumped out at me repeatedly during December, I sensed God was trying to tell me something:

“Choose joy.”

While I’d thought I was dealing with the stuff of life, I was really allowing it to bury me. I wasn’t choosing joy. I was choosing distress, anxiety, fear, despair.

Joy is a choice.

A wise king once wrote, “However many years a man may live, let him enjoy them all” (Ecclesiastes 11:8). “Enjoy” is a verb. Active, not passive. A verb is something you do, an action.

The writer of Ecclesiastes is telling us to choose joy in all seasons of life. In the good years and the not-so-good years.

How is joy even possible when life is beating you up? How can you smile when your insides are crying?

I saw a poster just this morning that answers that question. It read, “The reason behind my smile is God.”

Choosing joy means embracing all that life encompasses, knowing that “the God on the mountain is still God in the valley. The God of the good times is still God in the bad times. The God of the day is still God in the night” (from “God on the Mountain” by Tracy Dartt).

Choosing joy means choosing to “let your hope keep you joyful, be patient in trouble, and pray at all times” (Romans 12:12).

Choosing joy means choosing to believe God will work things out: “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).

When it came time to select the one word I’ll focus on in 2016, I didn’t have to choose. It had already chosen me: joy.

Thank you, Lord, for opening my eyes to joy. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Psalm 95

 NOTE TO READERS: IT’S ALMOST HERE!

Keep watching for the release of Getaway Mountain, Book 1 in the PennWoods Mystery series. I’m getting the book ready for print and look for it to be released soon. It will be available on Amazon in Kindle format ($2.99) and in print ($14.99). You may also order personally autographed copies from me. Use the contact form below. Order today and save shipping costs. No shipping costs on paid pre-orders (orders before the book is officially released).

What’s it about?

Reclusive romance novelist Melody Harmon, her career on the skids, flees to her writing retreat in the Pennsylvania mountains rather than team up with Don Bridges, an ex-cop turned suspense writer. When she discovers caches of cash—to the tune of a million dollars—she assumes it’s her late husband’s gambling winnings. Then dead bodies start popping up. Don wants to help her solve the mystery, but she doesn’t know if she should trust him. Can Melody overcome the pain of betrayal and learn to trust before the killer strikes again?

[contact-form]

Pressing On

 

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on. – Philippians 3:13–14 (NIV)

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

As I stand on the threshold of a new year, I recall 2015. It sure brought a heap of the unexpected — and not the pleasant kind. In the midst of the turmoil, I kept seeing the future as a big question mark.

Then it hit me: The future IS a big question mark. A good thing, too. Because if I’d known about all the troubles I’d confront in 2015, it would have been pretty depressing.

But 2015 is behind me, and it’s time to let it go and reach into 2016. I don’t know what the New Year will bring, but this I do know: My God is already there, and I can count on Him to see me through.

First, I can count on His constant, abiding presence. “My Presence will go with you,” He assures me (Exodus 33:14). And again in Hebrews 13:5, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” And Jesus promised, “I am with you always” (Matthew 28:20).

Second, I can count on His power in the times I need strength beyond myself. “My grace is sufficient for you,” He says in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “for my power is made perfect in weakness.” So I know that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13), for He IS my strength (Psalm 46:1).

Third, I can count on His divine purpose—that it’s good and underlies all that will happen to me. “The LORD will fulfill His purpose for me” (Psalm 138:8). “For I know the plans I have for you—plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11). He’ll turn the negatives in positives: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose”(Romans 8:28).

Fourth, I can count on His protection. He is a shield around me (Psalm 3:3). As my keeper, He watches over me (Psalm 121), and He commands His angels to guard me (Psalm 91:11—in fact read the entire psalm). In stormy times, He is my refuge (Psalm 46, Deuteronomy 33:27). “Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for (He is) with me” (Psalm 23:4).

Fifth, I can count on His provision. “Do not worry about tomorrow,” Jesus said (Matthew 6:34). “Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (Matthew 6:8). Because “the LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1). God will supply all my needs “according to His riches in glory” (Philippians 4:19).

Sixth, I can count on His promises. “Know that the LORD your God . . . is the faithful God” (Deuteronomy 7:9). “Faithful is He that calleth you, who also will do it” (1 Thessalonians 5:24). “Thy steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens, thy faithfulness to the clouds” (Psalm 36:5). “Great is Thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:23).

And finally (not really, but for the sake of brevity), I can count on His unconditional love. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? . . . I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:35, 38–39).

I don’t know what 2016 will bring, but this I do know: God, and His Word, will comfort me in the hurting times, give me peace in the troubled times, guide me in the decision times, be my refuge in the stormy times, and bolster my faith in the uncertain times.

He’ll do the same for you.

Thank you, Lord, that I will not walk through the New Year alone, for You are with me today, tomorrow, and always. Amen.

 

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Psalm 139

An Alexander Kind of Year

 

Be still and know that I am God. – Psalm 46:10 (NIV)

In her children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, author Judith Viorst writes about a boy named Alexander who’s having the worst day of his life. Everything that could go wrong does.

It’s been that kind of year. Although I cringe to describe 2015 as a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad” year, frankly it was. It’s been a challenge to keep a positive attitude and not dwell on all the Alexander-type events that have occurred. I’ve often felt like Elijah under the broom tree (1 Kings 19:3–4), when he whined, “I have had enough, LORD.”

I’m not unlike Alexander, who dreamed of escaping to Australia, where he thinks things will be better. Or Elijah, who told God he was ready to come home. I, too, long for a place of peace and rest, where there are no problems to deal with.

Oh, to be sure, the enemy has tempted me to dwell on all the “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad” things that have occurred and give in to whining, hurtling myself into a pit of self-pity. But God tells me that focusing on the good things will give me the peace I long for (Philippians 4:8, 9).

Psalm 46 is the prescription for the Alexander times in our lives: “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore (I) will not fear . . .” (verses 1, 2).

On a day no too long ago when I was feeling the stress of these Alexander times and not bearing up well, I received a handmade card from a friend. On the front were the words I needed that day: “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm. 46:10).

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how I put on armor each day. What I forgot to mention is that, even with my armor on, my back is still vulnerable. You see, I can only fight a foe in front of me, and the enemy often strikes from behind—attacking at our weakest points.

But I don’t have to worry: “For the LORD will go before (me), the God of Israel will be (my) rear guard” (Isaiah 52:12). And again: “The glory of the LORD will be (my) rear guard” (Isaiah 58:8). God’s got my back!

Yes, it’s been an Alexander kind of year.

But through it I’ve seen the power of prayer, I’ve sensed the presence of a God who knows me well and loves me still (Psalm 139). I’ve perceived there’s a purpose for the pain, even though I don’t see it or understand it. I’ve learned that in spite of everything, prayer brings a peace that transcends understanding (Philippians 4:6–7). And I’m getting better at Philippians 4:8 kind of thinking.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my God will never leave me or forsake me (Hebrews 13:5).

“See,” He says, “I have engraved you on the palms of My hands” (Isaiah 49:16).

Thank you, Father, for being with me in those “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad” times of my life, for helping me to see there’s a purpose for them, and for giving me Your peace in the midst of them. Amen.

 

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Psalm 46 and Isaiah 49:13–16

Angels from the Realms of Glory

My angel shelf – each angel was given to me as a gift

Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation? – Hebrews 1:14 (NIV)

For He will command His angels in regard to you,  To protect and defend and guard you in all your ways. – Psalm 91:11 (AMP)

I don’t collect angels. They come to me.

My Satterlee angel

One of the first angels I received was a gift from my husband’s employer at a company Christmas party over 25 years ago. The “Satterlee angel,” as I came to call her, is a clear, lighted angel about 8 inches high, holding a golden banner reading “Merry Christmas.” A golden halo once perched above her head. I placed her where she could light up a dark section of the house.

Winter days are often sunless and dreary. Nights are long and darker than any other time of the year. But my Satterlee angel reminds me that even in the longest, darkest, and coldest times of our lives, God sends us hope in the rays of His Son, which wrap themselves around us, warming the cold places in our hearts and spirits, lighting the darkest paths that stretch before us.

My Satterlee angel represents HOPE.

My Donora angel

Then there’s my “Donora” angel. This angel is one of a pair that my late sister, Judi, had (Judi was the one who gave her the name “Donora angel.”) We grew up in that steel mill town in the heart of the Mon Valley. My niece sent her to me the Christmas following my sister’s sudden death in August 2003.

My Donora angel is a little over 12 inches high, dressed warmly in a burgundy winter gown with a Christmas-colored plaid apron, red cord belt, and a dark blue shawl. Her beige linen wings fan out behind her tranquil face. Over one arm is draped a Christmas wreath. In her hand she holds an empty birdcage, with a bird perched on top.

My Donora angel reminds me of a past rich with family and traditions and people who helped to mold me into what I am today. People who knew me raw and still believed in me.

My Donora angel represents LOVE.

 My Birthday angel

Another of my 11 angels perched on a shelf on the stairway landing is my “Birthday” angel. She was a gift from my little flock at St. Peter’s United Church of Christ after my first tenure of filling the pulpit of that little church in Punxsutawney. A delicate ceramic angel, she wears a necklace with my birthstone, topaz, on a chain around her neck. “November”—my birth month—borders the hem of her gown in raised letters across the bottom. And her halo—oh, my, one little bump and it’s askew.

She reminds me of the happiness I get from serving my little flock and serving God in whatever way I can.

My Birthday angel represents JOY.

The most recent angel came to me as a birthday gift from my closest friend, Sharon. Butterflies and flower petals cover her dress. Her wings are framed in gold. The letters across the front of her gown read, “It is such a blessing to have a friend like you.”

My friendship angel

She is my “Friendship” angel, reminding me that friends are gifts from God. They remind us that we are never alone. Our Abba Father sends them to minster to us in times of need, to lend an ear and a helping hand, to give us hugs. Friends stand in the gap for us. A true friend brings a sense of stability and security to our hearts and lives.

My Friendship angel represents PEACE.

Look around. I’ll bet you have a few angels watching over you, too.

Thank you, Father, for sending Your angels to minister to and watch over me and those I love. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Matthew 1:18–2:23; Luke 1:5–2:20

Putting On My Armor

Therefore put on the full armor of God so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. – Ephesians 6:13 (NIV)

Have you ever felt beaten up?

I sure have. It’s been a pretty rough year, with challenge after challenge slipping in, slamming us, shaking our lives and spirits.

Lately I’ve found myself sitting on the side of the bed in the morning when I awake, putting on my armor. Using my arms, I visualize myself donning each piece of the armor of God.

First I slip on my helmet. I need this to guard my mind because my thoughts can create either havoc or harmony. It’s my choice. So I choose to chase away the bad thoughts and focus on whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8). I want to be transformed by the renewing of my mind (Romans 12:2).

Next I put in place my breastplate of righteousness. I need this to protect my heart – the home of my emotions – against the feelings that can cause damage to my spirit, to my relationships, to others, especially to those I love. I can’t let anger or envy sneak in, or self-pity or hate. These emotions only destroy. Instead I choose love and joy.

The belt of truth is next. I pray the words of the psalmist: “Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD; keep watch over the door of my lips (Psalm 141:3). Keep my tongue from evil and my lips from speaking lies (Psalm 34:13).” I pray that I will always speak the truth in love. And, since I tend to be gullible, I also pray for wisdom to discern truth from falsehood.

Next I slip on the shoes “of the gospel of peace.” I pray that I’ll always be ready to explain to another the hope I have in Christ (1 Peter 3:15). I pray that my eyes will be open to the opportunities I have each day to share God’s love with another.

Next is the shield of faith. Now, for some reason, I imagine my shield as heavy, hard to lift, dented, and very used. It has extinguished many flaming arrows shot directly at me by the enemy of my soul. But I must remember to use the shield. It’s really not as heavy as I imagine it. But it sure is beat up.

And finally, I take up the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. I must read, meditate on, and memorize Scripture daily, because it sends the enemy fleeing. I do admit, though, that I need to spend more time in the Word. All good soldiers should fortify their defense and strengthen their offense.

What about you – have you donned your armor today?

Dear God, remind me that even though the battle is fierce, victory is already mine, for greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. (1 John 4:4). Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Ephesians 6:10–17

I love the way The Message phrases Ephesians 6:10-17: 

A Fight to the Finish

10-12  And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.

13-18 Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You’ll need them throughout your life. God’s Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.

Christmas Joy

Dear Lord, I’m feeling down today – the bills are stacked up high.

With Christmas just two weeks away, our bank account’s run dry.

The kids have all presented lists of things they want to see;

I hope and pray there’s nothing missed beneath our Christmas tree.

But I don’t have the money for expensive clothes and toys;

Our credit card can’t take much more – Lord, where’s my Christmas joy?

Perhaps it’s wrapped up in that hug my daughter gave this morn;

Or stacked with wood my son did lug to keep us nice and warm.

Perhaps it’s in my oldest’s eyes when he comes home on break

And sees I’ve baked those pumpkin pies he wanted me to make.

Perhaps it’s in the tired lines around my husband’s eyes;

Perhaps in love that’s grown with time I’ve found the greater prize.

A friend who gives a hearty smile and cupboards that aren’t bare;

And, even if they aren’t in style, I’ve got some clothes to wear;

A family who believes in me in all things great and small –

Dear God, I think I finally see – I am not poor at all!

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. – Matthew 6:21

I write this poem in the mid 1990s, when my kids were all still at home. I still need to remind myself to open my eyes to the treasures that surround me every day. May Christmas joy fill your heart, mind, spirit, and home.

Michele

Beauty in Brokenness

Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter;  we are all the work of your hand. – Isaiah 64:8 (NIV)

If your place is like ours, you have a collection of broken things that have been mended—a favorite teapot or cup, a figurine, a ceramic trivet made by a grandchild.

Sometimes things can be mended so well you can barely see the cracks. Other times, slivers or shards are missing, so you display the piece with the mend toward the wall, or in a position where the scar cannot be seen.

But the Japanese art of kintsukuroi, instead of hiding the imperfections, actually highlights the brokenness.

Ceramic pieces are put together not with transparent adhesive but with a lacquer laced with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.

The effect is stunning. Your eyes are drawn to the golden cracks, and the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

We all have been broken, haven’t we?

It’s called “life,” and our brokenness comes from different sources. Relationships, divorce, death, illness, accident, injury, and finances constitute some causes outside of ourselves.

But sometimes our brokenness comes from within: a hurt held onto for far too long, a physical imperfection—remember the man who overcame a disabling stutter? We see physical, emotional, and mental disabilities as flaws, as ugliness we must deal with or hide.

I’ve endured a hearing loss in both ears since I was an infant. I spent most of my life trying to hide it. I refused to wear a hearing aid until I had to if I wanted to get a college education. Even then I hid it with long hair. I learned to be a talker because if I was the one always talking, I didn’t have to struggle to hear what someone else was saying—and usually getting it wrong.

We also hide emotional and mental flaws. How long will someone suffer with a learning disability, such as dyslexia, before admitting they need help? Or bipolar disorder?

We do our best to conceal our imperfections, don’t we? If we can’t lick ’em, we hide ’em.

It doesn’t help that our society overstresses perfection. You can’t believe a photo anymore because it may have been photoshopped, air brushed, or otherwise tweaked so the subject appears flawless.

That’s what intrigues me about kintsukuroi—the artist doesn’t treat the brokenness as a flaw, but rather something to be made beautiful. The breakage isn’t concealed but brought out by the gold in the adhesive that bonds it back together. Brokenness is not something to be hidden, disguised, shoved under a rug and forgotten about, but rather something to be celebrated—a part of the object’s history.

You are what you are because you have been broken. You’re more beautiful because of your flaws. Your imperfections don’t damage you in such a way that you’re no longer useful.

On the contrary, because you’ve been broken, you can be even more useful.

How? By given your brokenness to the Master of Kintsukuroi and let Him transform what you consider ugly into the beauty He sees in you even now.

I’ve always thought of brokenness as something ugly, something to be shunned. But You don’t see it that way, do you, Father? As the Master Potter, You see beauty in my brokenness. Help me to see it that way, too—and embrace it. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Jeremiah 18:1–4

New book to be released

 Book 1 of the PENNWOODS MYSTERY series
 Getaway Mountain

 

Reclusive romance novelist Melody Harmon, her career on the skids, flees to her writing retreat in the Pennsylvania mountains rather than team up with Don Bridges, an ex-cop turned suspense writer. When she discovers caches of cash—to the tune of a million dollars—she assumes it’s her late husband’s gambling winnings. Then dead bodies start popping up. Don wants to help her solve the mystery, but she doesn’t know if she should trust him. Can Melody overcome the pain of betrayal and learn to trust before the killer strikes again?

To be released mid-January both in Kindle and print editions.

Kindle edition $2.99

Paperback edition $14.99

You can order both on Amazon when the book is released.

PRE-ORDER your PERSONALLY AUTOGRAPHED print copy and save on shipping and handling. All paid pre-orders will be sent  by Priority Mail at no extra cost.  Email me at michelehueybooks@gmail.com to order your copy. 

The Thanksgiving Day Cemetery Run

Dean, Todd, and me on our Thanksgiving Day Cemetery Run – Nov. 26, 2015

 

Remember the days of old; consider generations long past. – Deuteronomy 32:7 (NIV)

I don’t know if you picked up on it, but last week my heart just wasn’t in composing my traditional Thanksgiving column. The key word in that last sentence is “traditional.”

Our Thanksgiving traditions were, once again, changing, and not of our own doing or choice.

Growing up, my husband and I had different Thanksgiving traditions. While he spent the day with a whole clan of relatives, enjoying Grandma’s pies — and she baked plenty and a variety — I spent the day quietly reading while my mother, who shooed everyone out of the kitchen, prepared a turkey dinner for just the five of us. If any relative stopped in, it was for only a few minutes. We certainly never went anywhere on Thanksgiving Day.

Fast forward 20 years. Now married with my own family, I wanted to begin a new tradition: We hosted Thanksgiving dinner and invited Dean’s parents, and his sister and her family.

By then my own family was scattered. My brother and sister, both out-of-state, had established their own Thanksgiving traditions. My father had passed away, and my mother was grappling with Alzheimer’s Disease.

This tradition ran its cycle until our three children grew up. I never wanted them to feel obligated to come home for the holidays but rather to establish their own traditions. After all, isn’t that what we raise them for? To live their own lives, to make their own mark in their corner of the world.

But we still celebrated the day with some of our ever-growing family. I didn’t have to cook the entire meal any longer — just bring a dish or two — and that was just fine by me.

Then life changed. Again. This year we faced spending the day by ourselves. I realize there are those for whom Thanksgiving (and any other holiday) is “just another day.” But we didn’t want it to be that way for us. We have too many good memories of Thanksgiving past.

So my husband suggested something unusual: take the day and visit the cemeteries where our parents and grandparents are buried — to thank them for what they contributed to our lives.

And with our oldest son accompanying us, that’s what we did. On Thanksgiving Day, we drove 246 miles, stopped at six cemeteries, and visited our forebears — his parents and grandparents, buried in Jefferson County, and my parents and godparents in the Mon Valley (near Donora). We reminisced — even our son had memories of these precious folks, even though I’d thought he was too young to remember.

We drove through two cemeteries where my grandparents are buried. I didn’t know exactly where their graves were, but just driving through was like a trip down memory lane, my mind and heart making connections I’d avoided making for far too long.

No, it wasn’t morbid. It was enlightening. And freeing.

Connecting with our past, touching base with our heritage, we realized how truly blessed we are. We are what we are because of what they were and what they did.

Seeing those gravestones gave us not a sense of loss or finality, but of continuity and hope. We are, we realized, the connection between the past and the future.

“We should note the days of old. They are what mold us.” (Curt Lovelace, “Memorializing the Past, A Practice in Remembering God’s Goodness”)

Who knows? Maybe we started a new tradition: The Thanksgiving Day Cemetery Run.

Thank you, Father God, for reminding us of the rich heritage we have. Help us to pass along that legacy to our children and grandchildren. May they, too, comprehend the continuity of life. Amen.

Extra tea: Read and meditate on Joshua 4:1–7