Michele Huey's Blog: God, Me, and a Cup of Tea, page 59

X-travagant God

The ABC’s of knowing God better: the letter “X”
                                                                                                   
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. –Lamentations 3:21–23 RSV
      
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. – James 1:17 NIV
      

“How much are you spending on me for Christmas this year?” my husband asked me last week.
      
I didn’t want to tell him I’d already ordered everything on his list. His list, by the way, is comprised of dog-eared pages in several Cabela’s catalogs with which we get inundated this time of the year.
      
So while DH was out vainly looking for a first day buck, I was online not so vainly spending bucks. I was supposed to spend only a third of what I did—that’s what he says he’s spending on me. But trying to pick and choose is too agonizing. It’s a lot easier just to get everything.
      
This seems to be our Christmas history—well, mine, anyway, because I’m the one who’s done the Christmas shopping all these years.
Jaime & Todd, Christmas, 1980
When the kids were little, I tried to get everything on their lists, too. The money was short, but seeing the look on their faces when they opened their presents on Christmas morning was a gift of its own. I wanted to be as extravagant as our budget allowed.
      
We have a heavenly Father who wants to be extravagant with His children, too. Only He can afford to lavish every good gift upon us—and He does. Oh, we don’t get everything on our wish list, but He gives us exactly what we need when we need it and in His way.
      
Some of His gifts we don’t even think about. Or maybe we don’t even realize we’ve been given them.       

Take, for example, His LOVE. It reaches to the heavens (Ps. 36:5), surrounds us (Ps. 32:10), never ceases (Lamentations 3:22), and is the reason He sent His Son to provide the way to heaven for us (John 3:16).
      
His FAITHFULNESS shields us (Ps. 91:4), “extends to the clouds” (Ps. 36:5) and continues through all generations (Ps. 119:90). 
      
His unlimited MERCIES—we receive them daily, fresh as the morning dew (Lamentations 3:22–23).
      
He supplies all our NEEDS, and He doesn’t skimp, either. He provides them “according to His glorious riches” (Philippians 4:19). Wow! All we have to do is ask (Matthew 7:7).
      
His GRACE, which is His daily care, strength, guidance, and favor. His grace is all we really need, for what we lack, He provides (2 Corinthians 12:9).
      
His WISDOM—Once again, all we have to do is ask: “If any of you lacks wisdom he should ask God, who gives generously to all, without finding fault, and it will be given to you” (James 1:5).
      
Did you get that? He gives generously to all.

So go ahead. Make up that wish list—then watch your heavenly Father do what He loves to do—be extravagant with His child.
      
      
Forgive me, Father, when I whine and complain that I don’t have enough or I don’t have what I want. Open my eyes to the gifts You shower me with every day. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Matthew 7:7–11
 
NOTE: For more examples of God’s extravagance, read about the miracles of the loaves and the fishes and see how many baskets of leftovers were gathered up (Matthew 14:13–21 and 15:32–38). Or the miraculous catches of fish in Luke 5:4–7 and John 21:4–6.

December Goodreads Giveaway

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Giveaway ends December 15, 2014.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to win

The most wonderful time of the year

      
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. –Isaiah 9:2 NIV
      
      
For the past month, folks have been complaining that Halloween decorations aren’t even settled in their storage boxes when the Christmas lights are strung up, and Santa, Frosty and Rudolph, as well as Nativity scenes, appear on lawns and porches. Christmas merchandise fills the store shelves by November 1, the date the Hallmark Movie Channel begins its “Countdown to Christmas” movies. I’ve read rants on Facebook telling people to “Wake up! It’s only the beginning of November!”
      
I used to complain, too—mostly about the commercialization of a day that should be remembered and celebrated for the hope it brings humanity. I especially criticized the movies. This year, though, I’ve had a change of heart. Not about the commercialization—and I still say by the time Christmas comes I’ll be sick of the “save Santa, save Christmas” movies.
      
I’ve changed my perspective on putting out decorations early—whatever you want to call early, because, really, isn’t “early” relative? Early is whenever you think it’s too early.
      
Me, I don’t think putting out Christmas decorations in November is early. I would have had mine out, too, but DH has been busy preparing our place for winter. But now that Thanksgiving is past, I’m ready to deck the halls. The boxes and bins will come down from the attic, and by next weekend, my home will be adorned for Christmas.
      
Why the change of heart?
      
The Christmas season, like life, passes by much too quickly. It is, as the classic song goes, “the most wonderful time of the year.” Why not stretch it out? Savor each day of the season as it unfolds. The best part of the journey is the anticipation of arriving at our destination. The fun is in the preparation.
      
And do look at preparing for Christmas as fun, not a tedious chore or something you’re obligated to do. Have fun baking those cookies, signing those cards, wrapping those gifts. Inhale the joy. Let it expand into your being—into every fiber of your body, mind, heart, and soul.
      
Christmas isn’t about presents or decorations or food or get-togethers. Those things are all part of the celebration of the arrival of the most wonderful gift God gave mankind—His own Son, and with Him, the gift of hope.
      
The world may seem hopeless at times. Events—international, national, local, personal—may bring despair.
      
But during the Christmas season, we allow the Christmas lights, which symbolize the Light of the World, to cast out the darkness of despair, to replace it with the light of hope. When we stretch out the Christmas season, we’re extending a time of joy and hope and light and love.
      
So go ahead, put up those decorations as soon as you want to. Stretch out the most wonderful time of the year.
      
      
Thank you, Father, for the hope Christmas brings. Forgive us for our Grinch moments. Fill us with the spirit of the season. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read John 1:1–14
             

New devotional book released

God, Me and a Cup of Tea is now available as a paperback book, with 50 of my favorite inspirational readings from this post and from my weekly column in the Indiana Gazette. 

Order your personally autographed copy for $15, tax and shipping included, by emailing me at michelehueybooks@yahoo.com.

Or order your copy on Amazon.




All five volumes are now available for download to your Kindle for $.99 each. Click here for more information.






Endorsements:



“Michele has the ability to look at life reflectively and to write personally and powerfully about the God who loves us and wants to be a part of all of our lives.” – Rev. Greg Tibbs, Michele’s former pastor

“Michele’s meditations serve as an important reminder that God is always holding me tight.” – Cathy Wehrle, reader

“Michele Huey reaches into the heart of every man and woman with her down-to-earth approach to spirituality.” – Judith Ferencz, reader

“Michele has the gift of creating an immediate bond with her readers. Her openness, honesty, and transparency will make you laugh and cry.” – Marlene Bagnull, author, publisher, and conference director, Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference and Colorado Christian Writers Conference

“Michele Huey’s devotional thoughts reveal marvelous sensitivity, amazing spiritual insights, and pragmatic advice and help for her readers.” – Dr. Dennis E. Hensley, author, educator, speaker

“Thought-provoking and practical. Those are the two words that come to mind in describing the devotional writings of Michele Huey. She is gifted in taking seemingly ordinary, routine life events and turning them into practical spiritual applications. If you want to learn something from the everyday happenings we all face, be sure to read Michele’s meditations.”– Dan Kennard, former General Manager, WDBA, DuBois, Pa.

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

“Pull up your chair and enjoy as Michele Huey skillfully weaves the written Word and everyday stories into inspiration for us all! Michele’s compelling, accessible voice makes this a book for every season!”  – Melanie Rigney, author, speaker, and former editor of Writer’s Digest

“Michele Huey’s gift is to take God’s word and translate it into deep-in-the-trenches, real-life solutions for our everyday problems. In her devotions, she takes us by the hand and shows us how to turn our stresses into joyful nuggets of wisdom that keep us going day after day. Michele helps us grow a rich tapestry of faith spring, summer, fall, and winter.” – Patricia Lorenz, inspirational, art-of-living writer and speaker, author of 11 books and top contributing writer to the Chicken Soup for the Soul books

A heart of wisdom

The ABC’s of knowing God better: the letter “W”
                                                                                                 
     
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. – Psalm 90:12 NIV
      
If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. – James 1:5 NIV
        
Henrietta Benson was the wisest person I’ve ever known.
      
When I met her, I was a young mother with three children, the third a surprise - a big surprise. I was quite upset about it. I was, truth be told, mad at God.
      
Back then I was still under the illusion that life should go according to what I’d planned, what I’d worked for, what I’d prayed for. But God had things to teach me, and I was at times a reluctant, if not rebellious, learner. Impatience was one of my defining traits—and perfectionism. I was always worried about what others would think or say about me or my family. If my kids did something wrong, somehow it was my fault.
      
Enter Henrietta Benson: mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother; former teacher in a one-room schoolhouse; farm wife; godly woman. Once Henrietta and her family began attending our little church on Canoe Ridge, I was never the same.
      
Henrietta’s philosophy was that once she met you, you were family. Not only were there church functions, such as carry-in dinners for Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Thanksgiving, and other holidays, there were also picnics and campouts on the hill, part of the farmland she and her husband owned.
      
So there were plenty of opportunities for me to pour my heart out to her. She’d listen patiently, keeping her eyes and attention on me, never interrupting, with not even a sliver of judgment on her face or in her eyes. There are few folks you can really talk to—to whom you can reveal the pain, the worry, the mistakes, your true feelings, the “stuff” that makes up the real you—the things you hide from the world because you don’t want anyone to think less of you.
      
Henrietta never preached. She’d wait until I finished my tirade then, like soothing balm on a seeping wound, dispensed her words of wisdom. They were few, but they were effective.
      
I can’t remember specifically the words she said—after all, my youngest will turn 30 in another month. But I can remember how she made me feel—understood, loved and accepted as I was, that I wasn’t hopeless, that God was using these things to change me and make me into the person He planned for me to be.
      
She taught me more about God and what He is like than any Bible study or sermon ever did.
      
Looking back on it all now, I realize that oftentimes it wasn’t I who sought her—it was she who drew me out with a “You look stressed today, Michele.”
      
Henrietta has long left this world for her heavenly home, but her godly influence and wisdom live on. You see, now it’s my turn to be a listening ear, give a timely word of wisdom, dispense love unconditionally.
      
It’s my time to pass it forward.
      
      
Thank you, Father, for Henrietta and her godly wisdom. Grant me the grace, love, and wisdom to be to others what she was to me. Amen.

Special-Tea: Read Proverbs 2
      

Footlogs and phobias

"What's a footlog?" I asked Dean. I was soon to find out.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains—Where does my help come from? – Psalm 121:1 NIV
      
      
One of the trails my husband and I hiked on our recent camping trip to the Great Smoky Mountains was the Kephart Prong Trail. Littered with golden leaves, it wound through the forest two miles up a mountain along a gurgling creek and several waterfalls to a hiking shelter near the summit.
      
The trail crossed the creek at several places—four to be exact. Bridge number one was a nice one-lane footbridge constructed of wooden planks with a log railing on one side. I crossed it no problem.
The first foot bridge. I didn't know what was ahead.      
Then we got to the second bridge, but it wasn’t called a bridge—it was called a “footlog”—a split log about 25 feet long spanning the creek 10 feet below. It, also, had a log railing on one side only, which in places arched away from the bridge.
      
I’ve always had a fear of heights. When I was nine, my father had to peel me off the second landing of a fire tower because I was screaming and clinging to the steel grate step in terror. I never overcame my acrophobia.
      
On the first bridge I was fine. I felt secure on the wooden planks. But stepping on a narrow log with moss growing on it was another story.
      
While my sweet hubby was too busy taking pictures of this historic event to be of any help should I fall into the rushing stream below and knock myself out on a rock, I focused on a point on the log about three feet in front of me, put one hiking boot in front of the other, used my walking stick for balance, and counted my steps aloud. And, of course, ignored Shutterbug behind me.

Baby steps

"Don't look down!" Dean told me. I didn't. He took this picture.

Then we came to the second footlog—green with moss, gray with age and missing chunks of wood—scarier than the first one. Using my focus and counting technique and ignoring the fear, I made it across, even though the couple behind us turned back when the woman refused to cross it.


The second footlog. Notice the wood missing and how the railing arches away from the walkway.    
      
Halfway across! Notice how well I am concentrating.
      
The third (and nice) footlogThe third footlog looked newer, like it had just been built. It should have been a piece of cake by then, but I was still scared. 
      
I wasn’t any less afraid crossing the footlogs on the return trip as I had been going up.
      
But I learned something. No, I didn’t overcome my fear—I walked through it.
      
We all set out on a trail called life. It goes up and down, winds over rocky and smooth terrain. Along the way we encounter our fears.
      
But we don’t have to turn back. We don’t have to overcome our fear, either—indeed, sometimes you can’t.

 
Made it!


But by taking one step at a time, focusing on what’s just ahead, using God’s Word for balance, and having faith in what’s at the end of your journey, you can walk through it.
         
      
I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? From You, Father God, the maker of the mountains and my guide through this hike called life. Amen.
     Special-Tea: Read Psalm 121

Thanksgiving giveaway

During this Thanksgiving season, in appreciation for all my wonderful readers and all the encouragement you've given me, I'm giving away one copy of each of the three volumes of God, Me & a Cup of Tea. (Volume 3 was released last week. Click on the picture for more information.)

To enter, send your email address to michelehuey@hughes.net, along with your name and address and which volume you would like to have should your name be chosen. You can enter your name for all three volumes!

The winners will be chosen and announced on December 1.

God bless you and Happy Thanksgiving!

Michele

Staying connected

The ABC’s of knowing God better: the letter “V”
                                                                                                 
And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being. – Genesis 2:7 NKJV
      
“I am the vine, you are the branches. . . Without Me you can do nothing.” – John 15:5 NKJV
      
I learned to type on a big, black, heavy, manual typewriter. I composed many a poem on that old
Image courtesy of thaikrit/FreeDigitalPhotos.netmachine, using half-sheets of erasable-bond typing paper and saving them in a handkerchief box.
      
When I got to college, my roommate let me use her portable electric typewriter—and I fell in love! With just a slight touch of the keys, sentences zoomed across the page. (Although I did have to learn not to press so hard.) I begged for one for Christmas, and Santa obliged. I used that machine for over 25 years, typing tests, quizzes, and worksheets on mimeograph masters in my teaching days.
      
About the time I began writing seriously and submitting my articles to magazines, I learned of something called a word processor. It was like an electric typewriter with a screen (monitor), and I didn’t have to use erasable bond typing paper or whiteout or scratch my mistakes off the page with a razor blade. All I had to do was use the “delete” key. My work was saved to a floppy disk (remember those?), as the word processor had no internal memory to store documents.
      
I was happy with my Brother word processor, even when I began using a computer at the newsroom where I worked as a feature writer. Although I saw the advantages, I resisted the idea of getting a personal computer. After all, my word processor never crashed.
      
Eventually, though, I caved in. Why had I waited so long? My word processor was relegated to the attic beside the electric typewriter.
      
I resisted, however, connecting to the Internet—too much risk, I thought, after hearing stories about viruses and hackers and other such boogeymen of the information superhighway.
      
It took me a while to cave in on that one. But cave in I did, going from a dialup connection through my phone line to a satellite dish on the side of my house.
      
Progress.
      
From an ugly old manual typewriter to a sleek laptop. From limited telephone communication to being able to connect with anyone on the planet at any time. From boxes and file cabinet drawers stuffed with file folders and floppy disks to practically unlimited online storage space in what’s called a “cloud.”
      
But just let the electricity go out, and we’re stymied. We can use our laptops, portable devices and cell phones until the batteries die, then we’re helpless until the power comes back on. To get anything accomplished these days, it seems, it’s vital to remain connected to an electric power source.
      
“I am the vine, you are the branches,” Jesus said. “He who abides in Me, and I in Him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).
      
Just as I wouldn’t want to go back to the days I used a cumbersome manual typewriter, I don’t want to go back to the time I lived my life without Jesus, my personal power source that never goes out.
      
      
Remind me, Lord, to stay plugged in—that in You “I live and move and have my being” (Acts 17:28). Amen.

 Special-Tea: Read John 15:1–15       

Camping by the creek

          
He leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul. – Psalm 23:2–3 NIV
      
      
Both my husband and I love to hike mountain trails, and there were plenty in the Great Smoky Mountains, where we spent our vacation this year. I estimate I walked about 17 miles. Dean more because after the 5½-mile hike on Tuesday, which included one mile up a mountain and one mile down, I needed a day of rest. So Wednesday I stayed at the campground while Dean went on a solo hike. (Which I suspect he enjoyed immensely because I wasn’t dragging along, slowing him down—but he’s too much of a gentleman to admit it.)
      
We had a wonderful vacation, with plenty of mountain streams rippling over rocks and gushing down waterfalls—and flowing behind our campsite. Moving water, remember, creates negative ions that help to energize you and counteract the effect of fatigue-causing positive ions created by modern life. I wish I would have taken a day just to sit by the creek and read. But instead I hiked more than I was in condition to hike and on my one day “off” did laundry and cleaned the camper.
      
“He leads me beside streams of water,” the psalmist wrote. “He restores my soul” (Psalm 23:2–3).
      
He can lead us to a place of rest and restoration, but it’s our decision whether or not to stop for a while. Sometimes all we do is pause, take in the scene, and move on.
      
Why do we think we need to accomplish so much? I don’t know about you, but I put more on my to-do list than I can actually accomplish in one day—or one week. “Why do I expect so much of myself?” I muttered as I put one hiking boot in front of the other. If I’m not careful, my Shepherd will make me lie down in that green pasture beside the gurgling brook (verse 2).
      
Pacing myself is the answer, and the best way to do that is to follow Jesus’ example. He had but one item on His to do-list: serve His heavenly Father. He was busy, yes, but He took time out to hike up a mountain or slip off to a quiet garden to spend time with God before the crowds showed up.
      
In my rush to get everything done on a to-do list I alone compile, I find myself skipping time beside that quiet stream. I need to put pack into my schedule time to pray deeply and to give the Scriptures I read time to soak into my spirit. I didn’t even slow down when we were on vacation.

What about you? Do you let Him lead you beside quiet waters so He can restore your soul? No? Well, maybe it’s time to camp by the creek for a while.

            
Thank you, Lord, for reminding me once again of how much I need to rest beside the quiet waters and let You restore my soul. Amen.

 Special-Tea: Read Psalm 23       

A God who understands

The ABC’s of knowing God better: the letter “U”
                                                                                                 
      
Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  – Isaiah 40:28 NIV
      
Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. – Luke 2:47 NIV
      
      
One of the deepest longings we have as human beings is to be understood. If someone truly understands us—who we are deep inside, why we act and react the way we do—and remains in our lives, we know that person loves us, warts and all.
      
I’ve been blessed to have such persons in my life.
      
First there were my parents, who understood me a lot better than I thought they did. They watched me as I matured, had a hand in developing who I became, and saw parts of themselves in me.
      
Then there was my godmother, my precious Aunt Betty, who understood me better than my own mother did. While Mom gave me practical birthday gifts, Aunt Betty gave me the girly things I longed for.
      
Then there’s my husband, whose understanding of me has grown with time. He’s seen me frantic, worried, angry, afraid, anxious, joyful—the gamut of emotions. How blessed I am that he’s hung around all these years. He understands me through and through—and loves me still.
      
Then there’s my friend Sharon, who understands me because we share both a sisterhood in our womanhood and a common bond as believers. She understands me because we’ve spent time together, and she’s listened to me with not only her ears but also with her heart. She understands me because I’ve trusted her enough to let down my guard and allow her to see me as I really am.
      
But there’s Someone who understands me even better than anyone, even better than I understand myself—my heavenly Father, my Creator.
      
Psalm 139, one of my favorite portions of Scripture, plumbs the depths of God’s loving understanding of each of us. You are not a nameless face in the mass of humanity. You are His child, uniquely created, intensely loved, and thoroughly understood.
      
He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows when you come and when you go, when you sit, when you lie down, and when you rise. He knows what you think and what you’re going to say before you even say it (vv. 1–3).
      
No matter where you go, He is with you, ready to guide you when you need direction and ready to hold you fast when you need stability and security. And when you’re scared of the dark, His eyes pierce the darkness—for darkness is as light to Him (vv. 5–12).
      
He saw you before you were born (vv. 15–16). He shaped you inside and out. Body and soul, you are marvelously made (vv. 3–4, The Message).
      
Each day of your life had a plan and a purpose even before you took your first breath (v. 16).
      
He thinks about you constantly—so much you cannot even begin to fathom how much (vv. 17–18).
      
So the next time you’re feeling misunderstood, when you think no one could possibly understand you, remember the One who created you and, more than anyone else, knows you, understands you, and loves you, warts and all.
      
      
Abba Father, how awesome to be understood and loved like You understand and love me! Amen.
 Special-Tea: Read Psalm 139