Sweet Speech

My traveling companions were weary, I was weary. The plane was packed with weary travelers. There were 30 rows, 6 across. I am not a mathematical genius but last I checked that meant there were at least 180 passengers on that jam-packed airliner from the cozy airport in Colorado to the big Dallas one we had been diverted to. I was in the middle seat closest to the lavatory and the airplane kitchenette. I could clearly hear the airline attendants conversation as we were in flight and then later as preparations were made for landing.

They had been cheerful, willingly handing out sodas, pretzels and such. In my mind I was already mapping out the next step, we had been delayed at the Cozy airport, a canceled flight to be exact. The experienced Traveler in our caravan had declared that an outright canceled flight was not an experience she could recall. Yet there we were, essentially stranded but knowing that the King had His hand on us. We had dedicated our trip to Him, in fact it was His business that had taken the four of us Gardendale area girls across the country to the Shadow of Pikes Peak. For several days we had trained together, cried together, eaten together, taken pictures, and most importantly prayed together. In the final moments of that unplanned flight into Dallas though, those memories and thoughts were in the far corners of my mind. Getting to the gate labeled Birmingham, was my priority. As I listened to the sounds in the kitchenette, I had already determined who was in charge that night, which of those ladies who had served us pretzels and demonstrated how to buckle seat belts and place oxygen masks on “in the event of an emergency.” Each had been tasked with a job and I could discern who was who among that flight crew.

aircraft-2104594_1280I had likened this crew of ladies to teams I had worked with in the past, the experienced and usually in charge one, the funny one, the chatty one, the one who missed her baby and was more than ready to be home, the just-there-because-she-had-to-be one. They were a familiar lot, although I had never actually met them until just a few hours before.

The Baby-misser had spent much of the short flight in the kitchenette talking about child care options. I sympathized. I had been there, I recollected a time when I worked the night shift, dropped my littles off at Mother’s Day Out, and while other mamas were grocery shopping and doing the things out for which Mother’s Day Out was intended, I made my way to my minivan parked beneath a shade tree, where I proceeded to crawl into the back and sleep for a few hours until the appointed pickup time. Those days were hard, a different kind of hard than the current days. Those days when my littles were little were physically exhausting. Days when a trip to the Big Box Store never meant leaving without diapers and wipes. Now the trips to Big Box store yield no more diapers but more in the way of copious amounts of foodstuffs and costly plug-in things. I find in comparison the days of late are emotionally exhausting more than physically. My teenage children sleep and sleep, something my Littles rarely did.

I was pulled back into reality as the Leader echoed words of sympathy and exhorted the Baby-Misser to press on. She offered a few words of sage advice and was interrupted by the Funny one hanging up the special phone and giving a hearty “Hmmph.” I listened between closing compartments and announcements of time and temperature awaiting us in Dallas and then the leader made the statement of the day.

“Sugar Up Girls. That plane is not getting in. It’s been delayed.”

Groans of frustration from the kitchenette. I surmised her years of experience had taught her that the cliché that “more flies can be caught with honey versus vinegar” must have proven to be true. As the leader of the pack she was telling her girls, that they were about to meet a lot of grumpy flies and it just might prove beneficial to be sweet rather than sour.

I giggled as she said that and My companion to my left looked at me with her large dark, expressive eyes (sometimes she reminds me of a Margaret Keane painting) and smiled. Clearly my jovial manner was puzzling. I wondered what the King’s word had to say about the matter. As my friend and I buckled and prepared for landing I made a note about the Sugared Up Flight Attendants and carried on with the awaiting journey ahead.

Sometime later as I was recalling that night, I searched the King’s Word and found in Proverbs the following:

Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. Proverbs 16:24 

The Experienced and In Charge One had been right all along. I wonder how many times my speech had been like sour vinegar, my words more hurtful than helpful. Multiple I reckon. How many times should I or could I have “sugared up” before I spoke? Too many to count. May I be challenged to “Sugar Up” more often and my speech be like sweetness and healing to the body.


Don’t Forget to Wonder

Many, LORD my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you; were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare. Psalm 40:5

“A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, Do it again; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough… It is possible that God says every morning, Do it again, to the sun; and every evening, Do it again, to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike: it may be that God makes every daisy separately but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.” –G. K. Chesterton


My daughter has a friend who screams with excitement every time she walks across campus on moonlit nights. Every single time she spies the moon she exclaims, “Can you BELIEVE how beautiful the moon is? Look at how perfect it is and how perfectly it shines. Wow! It’s gorgeous.” Her friends lovingly poked fun at her, but it never seems to lessen her awe of creation, or of the Creator. She has learned the priceless lesson of maintaining her sense of wonder.

As a child I was unendingly fascinated by the world around me. I took time to study the flowers, comparing the fragile petals of a daffodil with the hearty petals of a magnolia block-blow-blur-279453bloom. I spent hours discovering how to blow all the “fuzz” off a dandelion in one breath. I lay in my yard with friends and watched the clouds meander by in all their uniqueness. I gloried in the smell of fresh-cut grass and honeysuckles. I would spend days studying the construction of a leaf or watching a grasshopper making his way around my sidewalk. I had no worries about this activity or that meeting. The only agenda I had was to watch a bird fly.

But somewhere along the way, as Chesterton said, “I have sinned and grown old.”  I got lost in my own head, in my own life, in deadlines and agendas and expectations. I got busy. And as my life gets overfilled, I get distracted and lose my focus. I forget Paul’s words in Colossians 3:2 “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” When I get overcome with myself, when I’m honed in on the minutiae of my “to do” list, I become easily angered when plans get derailed, I covet those who seem to have time to relax, my patience wears thin and I forget. I get so busy looking ahead to the next task, I forget to take time to look around at those beautiful gifts right in front of me.

Yet God, being rich in mercy, brought me back to wonder.


I’ve had a character building year. The Lord has entrusted me with a new job that required much more than I know I’m capable of; lots of responsibility, leading, administrating, organizing. I confess I got bogged down in the non-essentials. I found myself knee-deep in schedules and agendas and budgets and “to do” lists and trying to make sure everyone’s needs were met. Like Martha, I got bogged down in the “many things” and forgot there’s really only One thing necessary.

One afternoon in early spring, a normal, busy afternoon, I found myself sitting at my kitchen table typing up a lecture. I was focused on my computer screen, intensely pondering what needed to be done, and the Lord whispered, “Look up.” So I did. There bird-3349832_1280on my back porch staring at me through the window was a cardinal. A beautiful red cardinal with a bright orange beak framed by a black mask. He hopped around blissfully on my porch, enjoying the sunlight and the gentle wind. For a long while, we stared at one another. And the King whispered, “Michele, consider the birds. They don’t worry or toil about the details, and I meet their every need. Seek me first. I’ll take care of everything else.”

I stopped what I was doing and stepped outside. I took a deep breath and smelled the earth and the hint of flowers emerging. I felt the wind gently glide across my face, brushing my hair, tickling my ears. I watched the leaves sway on the giant oak that keeps my home shaded and cool in the heat of summer. I stood in the sunbeams that weave their way to and fro on my porch. I looked up at the deep blue sky and caught a glimpse of a cloud in the shape of a rabbit hopping across the tops of the trees. And I remembered the One who fashioned this beauty, this intricate web of creation, if He can design the moon and stars and sun and clouds, He can certainly give me all that I need—and even more.


As I stood on my porch, in awe of my Abba’s intentionality, I realized that wonder, true wonder, can only lead to one thing: Gratitude. And a grateful heart is a heart anchored in freedom. The freedom that can only come by knowing the One who is true. When I wonder at the grace that saved a wretch like me, I can’t help but praise Him.

So if you, like me, find yourself bogged down in the quicksand of the non-essentials. Take a step outside and take a good look around. Let a roly-poly crawl up your arm. Watch a blue bird soar effortlessly through the sky. Lay on the grass and look up. Think about the One who made heaven and earth and remember, He is the One who rescued your soul. Keep that fierce and free spirit of a child and stand in wonder.


The Unending Journey

“Are we there yet?” – the whine of any child who has ever been on a car trip.

While adults may not whine about it, we’ve all experienced that feeling of the never-ending trip. Will we ever arrive? When we left home we didn’t realize it would take this long, nor have this many twists and turns.

volkswagen-569315_1280.jpgOur journey with God is a lot like a road trip. As we pull away from our old home to journey forward with God, we often believe it will be a short trip too. He’s going to do a quick remake of our life and we’ll have a happily ever after. But as days become weeks and years we realize it is a slow and constant process – this life is the never-ending journey. We will never arrive as long as we live.

How many times in our journey with Him do we come through a trial and pruning with the unspoken feeling that God must be through remaking us into His image because we can’t imagine what else He could possibly prune out of our life? We feel as if we are an onion that has been peeled to its very core.

In a short amount of time, however, we sense another layer of our “old man” being peeled away.

The day we set out to follow Christ, whether we were 8 or 38, we began a journey that will never end. He will chisel off the rough places, sand out the flaws, shape up the imperfections, and patch the holes until the day we die. That’s what regeneration and restoration are all about. It’s an ongoing process of remaking us into His image.

God’s got a grand adventure planned. God’s attitude toward us is not slap-on-a-new-coat-of-paint-and-send-her-on-her-merry-way. His mindset is apparent in Genesis 12:1 (MSG) “God told Abram: “Leave your country, your family, and your father’s home for a land that I will show you.” He had in mind to take Abram to new places, unknown places, places of adventure and scariness I’m sure. Places that caused Abram to grow a faith that was later credited to him as righteousness!

The destination and the route we take is in God’s hands. As He did with Abraham, God does with us. He calls us to go to a land He will show us – an unknown destination. We don’t know where the road may take us or what may happen along the way. We imagine there will be joys at the right hand of God. We fear that he will take us somewhere we don’t want to go. But do we realize that He will be beside us every step of the way?

accident-car-communication-2224He doesn’t send us off on the journey alone. The last phrase of verse 1 is the icing on the cake – “for a land that I will show you!” Girls, he’s not sending us away on a journey all by ourselves. He’s going with us! The only way my husband can show me the way on our road trip is to be in the car with me. That’s where our Father God is – in the seat beside us, taking us on this grand and sometimes scary adventure, trying to give us directions to this “land that I will show you” if only we’d listen to Him.

The journey is life-changing. We never stop to think of the inner impact the journey will make on our lives and the changes that will take place within us. As we journey with Christ, externally we may change our location, those who accompany us, or the job we do. But the greatest change is His molding of our inner man. He is transforming us into the image of Christ from the inside out. So I pray for you, and for myself, the words of Paul:

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being. Ephesians 3:16 


We weren’t created as statues. We were created as flesh and blood people that change from day-to-day, year-to-year, minute-by-minute, endlessly, until we pass from this earth.  The change, the re-making is intentional on God’s part. Scripture tells us:

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. 2 Corinthians 5:17

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Ephesians. 4:22-24

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2

Transformed. Made new. Renewed. That’s us.

On this never-ending journey of life with our Beloved, let’s embrace the word change. Let’s be pliable clay in His hands, willing to be mashed down, re-formed, made into something new! Even in the painful circumstances that try our faith, let us desire the touch of our Master Creator who isn’t finished with us yet.

The breaking and re-making. The new places on the journey and the hard places that tax us to our limits. These are part of the journey we signed up for. Let us be willing, not weary, travelers. Coming to know God and allowing Him to mature us in His ways is lifelong. We never arrive as long as we live. We are always “becoming” until the day we die. Becoming more faithful. Becoming more Christlike. Becoming more patient. Becoming more loving. Becoming more joyful, peace-filled, kind, gentle, self-controlled….

When we feel He’s shown us our deepest core, there are still other layers below. The journey is never over Girls! Enjoy the adventure of it all!




Ah, May! Such a beautiful time of year, yet moms everywhere are teary and struggling. Their baby is graduating and leaving home!

Graduation is a time of great joy and excitement. It’s a beginning, not an end. The term for the graduation event is a “commencement” ceremony. Commencement means beginning. So why do parents moms everywhere see it as an end, a devastating loss?

It’s interesting that dads (for the most part) don’t have the same emotional reaction that many moms do. Dads grasp the idea of sending that 18-year-old off on a big adventure. They look forward to what’s to come for that young adult and for their own life. Common conversation among dads of graduates includes phrases like “one more off the payroll,” “if I can get this one through college…” or “just me and the bride in the empty nest.”

accomplishment-ceremony-daytime-1036626.jpgAs the emotional heart of the home, many moms get caught up in the feelings of discouragement, sad reminiscence, or finality. While not all moms react so sentimentally, for those that do it can bring on a period of grief and an awareness of loss. Loss of a dear relationship with that child as they move miles away. Loss of an identity as a mom. The loss of one’s own life – time has passed as the child has grown slowly, and now suddenly moms of graduates have a keen awareness of mortality and the shorter amount of time ahead on the timeline in comparison to what has gone before.

Our comfort and instruction for moving on and living is found in Philippians 3:7-14.

But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ, and may be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own derived from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which comes from God on the basis of faith, that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. 

It’s time to put these truths into practice.

  1. Count all things loss for the sake of Christ.
  2. Press on to lay hold of that which Christ has for us.
  3. Forget what lies behind.
  4. Reach forward to what lies ahead.
  5. Press on toward the goal – go after the prize!

Sweet mom of a grown up child, rejoice! Rejoice in this new beginning for your offspring.  Rejoice in the new phase of life Jesus is bringing to you. You are blessed. Shed a sentimental tear or two if you must, then put it behind you and Press On! The best is yet to come!



Changing Your Perspective

A few weeks ago my GFBC BFF lifegroup got together to paint wooden front door hangers. Our instructor was Tammy Westbrook of Two T’z in a Pod. She provided us with everything we needed to complete our project. Our only effort was to paint our chosen door hanger, either a bird or flower arrangement. As about 30 of us got together that night to work, the constant theme was “I am just not good at this” or “yours is a lot better than mine.” We each were judging our piece based on how the other artwork around us looked.  We were in the comparison mode, but the truth is we all left there with a finished hanger, and they all looked great. It was just when they were being compared to each other we all felt like ours lacked in some way.

Comparison is a constant theme I am hearing and studying about lately.  I have been reading a book by Nicki Kozariz titled “Why Her? 6 Truths We Need to Hear When Measuring Up Leaves us Falling Behind” along with doing the Bible study she wrote on “Rachel and Leah: What Two Sisters Teach us about Combating Comparison.” (You can read Rachel and Leah story for yourself in Genesis 29-30.) Since I have not finished either one I will refrain from giving a critique; however, it has gotten me to thinking about how many times a day I compare myself to those around me. I have to say it is a constant stream of thought going through my mind. I want to share with you some insights I have gained.

I looked up the definition of comparison on dictionary.com and found the first two definitions were: the act of comparing and the state of being compared. Or another two words are envy and jealousy. Isn’t this so true during our day we are either constantly comparing ourselves or being compared by others. So how do we break this act of comparing?

belly-black-and-white-body-42069.jpgFirst, we have to be aware of the comparison. I am constantly comparing, grading and measuring myself against other people. Comparison is not something we can avoid in life, but it is something we can be aware of and take note of how we act and react. Social Media is our worst enemy in the comparison game.  I look at other people and judge myself against what others post. I am sure you have all heard something about someone and thought or said “well it must be nice,” and the comparison, envy, jealousy, and coveting begin popping up again.

A year or so ago my friend, Debbie, started posting about the realities of life.  I have another friend that posts Marriage Chronicles of the things she is discovering about being a newlywed. When we stop and really look, things are not really how they seem. Not everyone I know is always hopping off to a great vacation somewhere or buying the latest and greatest thing.  I have to change my perspective and see things like they really are. Others’ lives may have some good things happen in them, but the reality is, most of them have junk in their lives just like me.

Secondly, I have to learn to combat the comparison and realize I have done nothing wrong.  When the coveting and comparison rears its ugly head, be it a friend getting married for the second or third time (and I am still single), or those having babies or grandbabies around me (and I am still Single), or a husband and wife celebrating a wedding anniversary (and I am still Single),  or going on dates (and I am still Single), I have to learn to focus on what is truth in my life. I have done nothing wrong. It is just not God’s timing for me to be married. Will it every be? I don’t know, but I’d rather be single than be in a relationship not ordained by God.  Then I’d just put myself in a mess and the comparison would be worse. Cause I would be wanting to know why my marriage was not like hers. One of the quotes in the book Why Her? is “We have to find contentment with who we are without becoming complacent in who we are becoming.”

We have to find contentment with who we are without becoming complacent in who we are becoming.

Thirdly, I haven’t loss anything, by those around me gaining something and I can’t become discourage by the success of others. Just like in the story of Leah and Rachel. Rachel had not lost Jacob’s love even when Leah was having babies. 2 Corinthians 10:12  (CSB) says, “For we don’t dare classify or compare ourselves with some who commend themselves. But in measuring themselves by themselves and comparing themselves to themselves, they lack understanding.”

Nicki has the “Bless Her” Prayer in the book Why Her? She says that “anytime the enemy starts to slip in a lie of lack in your soul as you’re looking at someone who’s gaining, as you’re beginning to feel like you’re losing, there is something you can do” pray for both you and her. Her gain is not my loss and I have to keep doing what God has called me to do.

So the next time you are struggling with comparison, try to say the “Bless Her Prayer” and change your perspective.


God, today I’m praying for _____ (insert their name).   I am grateful You have gifted her with the ability to _______ (insert their gift/opportunity).  You are a good God who gives each of us good gifts.  I pray that today would be a good day of increase with the ability to use those gifts in her life.   Help _____ (insert their name) to use her time, resources and gifts wisely today.  Surround her with what she needs most.  And bless her greatly.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

“Bless Her Prayer” by Nicki Koziarz.  Excerpt from Chapter 9 of Why Her? 6 Truths We Need to Hear When Measuring Up Leaves Us Falling Behind. Find her book at you local bookseller or on Amazon.



Good Medicine

A joyful heart is good medicine,But a broken spirit dries up the bones.


Sometimes I go through life so distracted that I hardly notice the world around me. Sometimes my mind is so far from my body, it’s a wonder I stay in one piece. I am not consistently that way though. Sometimes I notice such small details that they serve to bog me down and overwhelm me. I find myself perseverating about those details and become so distracted and weary I feel like I am moving through molasses in December.

This recently happened on a trip to the doctor. It was pouring down rain outside, I had been running late, the parking was terrible, the waiting room filled. I appeared to be the youngest patient that afternoon. I was weary to my bones and found myself sluggish and overwhelmed.

maxresdefaultA bright pink scrub clad young lady was steadily opening the door that led to the back, calling names and waiting patiently for her elderly patients to rise and make their way toward her. I noticed that many of them had names popular for infants. Names like Eleanor, Everett, Henry, Sylvia. It tickled me as I recalled the King’s Word that says there is nothing new under the sun.

As the waiting room emptied I found myself alone. Seated amongst tattered magazines, a clearly outdated one boasted a new Baby Princess, per my recollection that Princess is now somewhere around 3 years old. There was a tool magazine “where good tools come first.” “Versus what?” I wondered, “where Bad tools come first? Or maybe last?”

As I reached for the outdated Princess magazine my hand felt something wobble beneath it. I hadn’t even noticed. I took a second glance to see what I had touched, and noticed an ant farm. I shook my head. Was this my overactive imagination again? Had I just imagined next to the tattered magazines, pages softened by mindless flipping in an effort to pass the time… had I just imagined an Ant farm? Surely not. What would an Ant farm be doing in a doctor’s office?

I looked again, ant farm presence confirmed. I had a mental image and thought predictively, “This is not going to end well.”

ant.farm.14Taped to the top of the Ant farm was a small piece of paper, it read , “Press the lid down firmly all the way to avoid ants escaping.”

Suspicion confirmed. That sign was there for a reason, it hadn’t ended well. Ants had indeed escaped previously, someone or someones needed a written reminder to keep said ants contained.

I started to laugh. The kind of laugh that used to occur whilst I was in church, the kind of laugh that one absolutely can not control and will result in a pinch on the right shoulder from one’s disapproving Mama. The kind of laughter that occurs when one’s 14-year-old cousin has just stuffed the nostrils of Mrs. So-and-So’s “for real fox stole” with paper balls. Every week that foxes nostrils would be cleared of the white occlusions, just so said 14 year old cousin could send one into hysterics yet again. It was a vicious cycle that yielded unrelenting laughter. The kind of laughter where a whole body shakes and tears come to one’s eyes, the kind of laughter that can not be stopped no matter how much one desires to do so. That kind of laughter simply has to run its course and will often give way to side pains and a stomach ache.

Proverbs 17:22 says “A joyful heart is good medicine but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.”

I can say honestly as I went to the doctor that day I went in search of feeling better, good medicine as it were, but in His goodness the King allowed me to see the very thing that would lead me to the medicine to my soul. Laughter. After that hearty giggle I felt better already and I hadn’t even actually seen the doctor yet, but the Great Physician had seen me and brought joy to my heart and laughter to my weary soul.


Woman! You Are Loved!

woman-1195276_1280.pngFrizzy hair.

Stretch marks.


Lost a job.

No ring on the left hand.

Rebellious kids.

No kids.


Financial ruin.


We women tend to be hard on ourselves. Most all of us have considered something in our life an Epic Fail.

Oh Sweet One! You are not the sum of your physical flaws, your relational stumbles, your sins and failures, your finances, and your children’s mistakes.

You are created in the image of God! You are a cherished daughter of the Creator of the universe, a unique soul made for a unique purpose here on earth. You are THE ONE Christ died for; if you had been the only one, he would have gone to that cross just for you. You are a rare jewel with unique assets and flaws.

As we celebrate and honor all Mothers today, celebrate yourself as a woman.

God loves you.

He chose you.

He knows you and accepts you despite those things you don’t love yourself for.

I have loved you with an everlasting love; Therefore I have drawn you with lovingkindness.” Jeremiah 31:3

I challenge you to choose something good for today… to relax… to let go… to forgive yourself or another… to talk kindly to yourself as you would speak to a cherished friend… to not compare yourself to a soul on earth… to count your blessings… to immerse yourself in God’s word… to serve someone out of love… to live fully and bask in God’s love… maybe even to stay off social media – give yourself a positive break!

Enjoy something just for yourself for 15 minutes be it music or a bubble bath or a phone call to a friend, a walk or a cupcake or some flowers.

Celebrate your unique life handmade by Jehovah Himself

and loved by the Father!



A little video to remind you of how to look at yourself!

The God Who Runs

by guest author Joni Shankles (Reposted from Joni’s blog with permission. Read more from Joni here.)


Selfish demands.
Surly words.
Shameful choices.

We’ve all played the rebel, rejecting the rules to get what we want, to experience something new.


I was so stupid.

We’ve all suffered the consequences of rebellious choices, finding ourselves in a mess we can’t escape on our own.


I’m no longer worthy.

And sometimes, we fall into despair, feeling ashamed and blaming ourselves again and again.

What can we do when we’ve failed, when we feel cut off from the good life we knew before, separated from God and those we love?

Jesus told the Parable of the Lost Son to show rebels like us what to do.

When you’ve chosen your own way, when you’ve suffered the consequences, when you don’t even feel worthy to be called a child of God….

Get up.
Turn around.
Go back to your Father.

I’ll get up, go to my father, and say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I’m no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went to his father.
Luke 15:18-19 CSB

Jesus told the Parable of the Lost Son to show us how love responds.

Love sees.
Love runs.
Love forgives.
Love restores.
Love keeps searching.

But while the son was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion. He ran, threw his arms around his neck, and kissed him. The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight. I’m no longer worthy to be called your son.’
“But the father told his servants, ‘Quick! Bring out the best robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Then bring the fattened calf and slaughter it, and let’s celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ So they began to celebrate. Luke 15:20-24 CSB

God is not a father who writes us off.

God is the Father who sees.
He is watching for the moment our hearts turn toward home again.

God is the Father who runs.
He closes the gap to embrace us as dearly loved children, not hired workers.

God is the Father who forgives.
He is filled with compassion and shows us mercy when we repent.

God is the Father who restores.
He celebrates our return, welcomes us home, and demonstrates His love, providing more than we could ask or imagine.

God is the Father who shows us that our worth is not earned, but inherited. Our worth comes from our relationship, initiated and sustained by the Father.

We need to remember that when we’re not playing the rebel, we are easily tempted to play the judge. The rebel demands his own way. His judgmental brother demands he pay for it.

The Father loves them both.

So his father came out and pleaded with him…“‘Son,’ he said to him, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”
Luke 15:28, 31-32 CSB

God is the Father who keeps searching.
He invites the self-righteous to trust His judgment and join the celebration.

God is a good Father.

He sees.
He runs.
He forgives.
He restores.
He keeps searching.

We are God’s children.
We belong to Him.
When we fail or when we have it all together, we can trust His love.
And His love never fails.

See what great love the Father has given us that we should be called God’s children—and we are! 1 John 3:1 CSB




Aritcle #3 in April Kyle’s series on 1 Peter.

Thoughts on 1 Peter…

“…not with perishable things…”

Milk BottlingThe milk in my fridge has an expiration date. The loaf of bread in my pantry has an expiration date. Even the bag of tortilla chips that I must purchase with the necessary jar of salsa has an expiration date. These things are perishable. They’re going to go bad. They’re going to grow moldy or stale or clumpy or…well, you get the picture. And quite frankly, that is not shocking to me…these things will not last forever. They will – and are – perishing. Heavens knows if some of them will not perish by the end of the week.

Think of the things in your house that are fading and perishing. Books on the shelf with covers faded and pages torn. Photographs of little people who are now taller and hardly recognizable; or photographs of loved ones who have passed on. Old t-shirts and ripped jeans; faded wood flooring striped by sunshine pouring in through the window. Even looking in the mirror, there’s a whole lot of perishing going on there…! All these things we live in and around from day-to-day. Our stuff is fading. Expiring. Perishing. And yet, truth be told, this is not too shocking really. We know our stuff is getting old.

In contrast, I checked the inside of my gold wedding band and it does not have an expiration date. There’s no timeframe of when I should expect it to crumble off my finger. I don’t anticipate the perishing of my gold wedding ring or the perishing of the diamond sitting so sparkly on my left ring finger. I think of these things lasting forever…as I fully anticipate my marriage doing, but that’s a sermon for another day. I would be all-together shocked and very upset if my diamond stud earrings were to somehow dissolve or disintegrate. They’re made of gold! The real stuff…in my earthly vernacular. I do not think of my gold jewelry as perishable!

Good o’ Peter sets me straight however. He uses this word perishable to describe the silver and gold of this world. He sets my perspective aright. He says my inheritance was not purchased with the perishable stuff like silver and gold. He says my living hope was not established by the acquisition of mere silver and gold. He says my sanctification is not achieved by the trading of cheap metal like silver and gold. He says that what I have in Christ is not going to perish – not like bread and milk – but it’s not going to perish like silver and gold perishes.

Somebody better shout Glory! Amen.

food-3190171_1280The Word of God has a way of setting our priorities straight, does it not? So often, I’m caught up in my perishable stuff. I lose sight of the imperishable things of Almighty Eternal Creator God that are a part of what makes me His royal kid. I forget that this earthly home is fading, expiring, crumbling. That it is in reality perishing.

Peter tells us the inheritance that belongs to the child of God is imperishable and is being kept in the un-expiring all-glorious ever-preserved Heaven. This non-perishable item was purchased by the raised-back-to-life-pouring-out-mercy Son of God, Jesus Christ.

Peter says that I no longer exist in an “empty way of life” but that I have a new way of living that was redeemed with non-perishable items. And again he compares this to “things like silver and gold.” I mean, Peter, what could possibly be more imperishable, more non-perishable than silver and gold…??? Peter, I have to question your knowledge here! Silver and gold. That’s the good stuff.

Peter says that I have been born again of imperishable seed. The life I now live is no longer perishable. He even says my faith, my character is being refined into imperish-ibility!!! (yes, I made up that word…) I no longer live in a fading, expiring, crumbling existence. I’m called to, established into a non-perishable, imperishable life.

This world can get my attention off these truths. This earth is so…crumbly.

The gold of my ring – hardly 19 years old – is already scratched and bent. It will fade away one day. The milk in my fridge needs to be dumped out.

But my inheritance, not expiring.

The living hope I live in, not fading.

The faith I hold is being made more valuable.

My eternal home has no cracks in the walls.

The fountain from which I drink deeply will never run dry…or sour.

The position I hold is imperishable.

Praise be.





Hold Fast to the Work for Which You Have Been Created

PHOTO: By Bob Key – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=757094


“Say, any of you boys smithies? Or, if not smithies per se, were you otherwise trained in the metallurgic arts before straitened circumstances forced you into a life of aimless wanderin’?”

Scott Martin and I often speak in a language of movie one liners. This here is one of our frequent and favorites. It was the first thing I thought of when I was looking at the television at 3:00am for the 6th day in a row.

I am not unaccustomed to seeing the middle of the night. My older and less flexible body these days doesn’t choose to see 3:00 am if it can help it. Back in the olden days I was likely to hit the wall at 4am way back when the night shift was the work requirement. Work that would yield naps in the back of a minivan while kids were at a mom’s day out, naps in a bedroom sleeping in front of a door so no one escaped. Hours of sleep in increments more than a few hours were more valuable than the gold backed dollars that said sleep deprivation was yielding.

Anxiety Sickness and a persistent cough had gifted me with my old 3am foe. As I sat wide-eyed and hacking on the sofa I was clearly perturbed. I thought about the last time I had been this sick, when Shelton and I were marooned on a sofa island amidst quilts and pillows. In between his feverish episodes he would declare frequently how much he loved me. As difficult as they were, those days were some of my most treasured.

This time I found myself alone on the couch, the lone sick one. The other Martins had yet to succumb to the infirmary that I’d met first. As I sat on the couch I’d made my way to a random PBS channel. In the middle of the night a woodworking show was on featured a blacksmith. I was vaguely familiar with the show as I have caught Scott Martin watching – not because he’s skilled or fond of woodworking but because he likes the music featured on the show, a throwback to old-time sound likely played by misfit bands. Instruments made of strings and harmonies carried over from home countries. It is highly probable the music accompanied a coming together of neighbors for a barn raising or work day, women scurrying about with food preparation, a variety of kitchen delicacies meant to be shared. A buffet of foods all homemade, for the Publix deli was years from invention, kids playing with sticks and dirt, cellphones and electronic entertainment centuries away… Perhaps not. Perhaps my overactive imagination combined with sleep deprivation and a longing for simplicity and fellowship yield such assumptions. I digress…again…

hf7-1356The smithy was crafting a “hold fast,” an L shaped tool meant to hold a wood working project in place, a tool of old when smiths and metallurgic arts were part of the everyday. My mind wandered to a verse with a keyword of the same name,

“Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.” Hebrews 10:23 English Standard Version (ESV)

Hold fast, to hold firm. I watched as intently as my sleep deprived eyes would allow. I noticed the difference in the shape and size of the French and English hold fasts. The English hold fast not as curvy and weighty as the French inspired holdfast.

The host would occasionally comment to the Smithy as he would “strike while the iron is hot.” I had heard that phrase many times, maybe even said it. I googled the origin of the phrase and was informed via the internet,

“This old proverb clearly alludes to the imagery of the blacksmith or farrier at his forge. If he delays in shaping the iron when it is hot and pliable, the metal soon cools and hardens and the opportunity is lost.

The expression is recorded in Richard Edwards’, “The excellent comedie of two the moste faithfullest freendes, Damon and Pithias, circa 1566.” (Phrases.org.UK)

The expression becoming appreciated more and more as the metal piece was more malleable, able to be shaped into the desired shape, while it was the once straight pieces of steel taking shape into L shaped pieces of useable metal that were designed for a specific purpose.


If those fired pieces could speak and feel I reckoned they would say the shaping was painful, but once fired and made, the soft metal could be shaped so much more easily than the cold metal would have been. In essence that suffering led to shaping those pieces into an object that could be used for its intended purpose.

When used, the holdfast was so strong the entire workbench could be lifted, the holdfast acting as a handle. The holdfast was essential in the art of woodworking, planing, and all other manner of terms used to which I am not even vaguely familiar.

I wondered if in the Kingdom, I and those I know, weren’t holdfasts of sorts. Those who have endured sufferings that shaped who they were, those who feel that they aren’t all that important in the Kingdom, they aren’t famous, or clergy, missionaries or those on the front lines of ministry. Those have had moments of thinking they aren’t all that important in the kingdom, those thoughts followed up with “I’m not all that important, I just (insert seemingly unimportant title here).” In the case of the holdfast, “I just hold down a piece of wood.” Maybe in the Kingdom you (and admittedly I) feel just like that.

The reality is that a holdfast is crucial in shaping those pieces of wood into grooves and curves, beautiful trims and flooring, the things homes are made of. The pieces of architecture we take classes in college to appreciate. The “craftsmanship” the Antique Roadshow folks get giddy over. The items that cause experts to do their dead level best to remain composed, but when pointing out such “details” and “workmanship” their voices go an octave higher and they interject adjectives like “phenomenal” or “amazing” statements like “simply incredible” or “I have never seen another one like it.”

I’ve watched that show a time or two and they have never said, “This woodworking master must have had an incredible holdfast, for without it this beautiful piece would not have been possible for the craftsman to create. Your prized piece is worth a gazillion dollars because the holdfast was in fine working order.” Nope they NEVER say that. They, to my knowledge have not acknowledged that crucial tool. That L shaped piece of steel whose job it was to hold-fast. Yet so seemingly unimportant but when confronted with the bigger picture, the value of hindsight one can see clearly how important that seemingly unimportant item was.

The smitty in the show had a replica of a third type of holdfast, an American model. He made a statement that it was thought to have been from the 18th century, discarded in the early days of our country. It had been unearthed somewhere in what was one of original 13 colonies. The American model looked different from the English and French models but the overall shape was the same, purpose the same.

Some of us, some of you are the holdfasts of the Kingdom. The Master Craftsman, the Creator having used our sufferings to shape us into useable pieces, those who do the unseen jobs that without, the frontliners, those fine seemingly more important pieces or workmanship, would not be possible.

The Kingdom needs holdfasts, those willing to do the unseen, the not so glorious, those created for just that purpose. On the days when I am tempted to believe what I am doing doesn’t matter, that if I weren’t doing that (insert seemingly unimportant or menial task here) it really wouldn’t matter, I am going to think of those holdfasts and remember that I am the King’s workmanship and that as long as I am doing what He has called me to do, created me to do, there is no unimportant or meaningless task in Kingdom work.

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” Ephesians 2:10 English Standard Version (ESV)