Have you ever noticed that there sure is a lot of coming and going in the Gospels? Jesus came to the crowd. He came to Capernaum. He went to a solitary place. He came to seek and save the lost. He came to Golgotha. He called the disciples to “Come!” And he told them to “Go” sell their possessions and give to the poor and to “Go” make other disciples.

Sometimes our journey of life gets hectic. We feel like all we are doing is coming and going. My Mama used to say she was so busy she “met herself coming and going.” But in our comings and goings from day-to-day we can have purpose. We can be like Jesus.

What can we learn from Jesus’ comings and goings.

Jesus went TO places, but He went FOR the people. The Bible documents Jesus traveling to many towns and regions of the countryside: Jerusalem, Bethsaida, Samaria, Galilee, Genneseret, mountainsides, the Sea of Galilee. In each place He went, scripture reveals more to us about His interactions with the people He encountered rather than about the random daily things He did. We don’t know where he spent his nights or what he ate or if He and the disciples ever found a big field and played ball together just for fun. We see him healing and teaching and driving out demons and talking with the hurting people He met.

In our lives, as we come and go, are we more focused on the tasks at hand – get the kids to soccer, buy the groceries, have the oil changed in the car – or have we learned yet that life is about the people we encounter on the journey? Our Father loves hurting people, whether it’s us or a friend or a stranger. He will put His children in the right place at the right time to meet very specific needs. Are we even aware? Or are we so busy being on our way to work or on our way to school or on our way to church that we overlook the lonely, the sick, the hurting, and the desperate around us? Are we more like the compassionate Samaritan on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, or, on a typical day, do we very much resemble the Priest or the Levite who was too busy and distracted to help a wounded man?

Jesus invited people to “Come” and commanded them to “Go.” Notice how the disciples were gently invited to come along with Jesus and learn from Him and allow Him to change them into fishers of men. “Come.” He calls us as well. Come. Gently, patiently, often in a whisper. Come. Early in the morning stillness. Come. Amidst the confused hustle and bustle of life. Come. In the midst of the raging storm. Come. He calls us as much for our good as for His purposes, because His purposes are for our good! We shortchange ourselves and miss out on an opportunity to learn and grow and join with Christ in His healing work here on earth when we ignore the call to come to Him.

“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

As gently as Jesus calls us to come, He is equally firm about His command to “Go.” Jesus commanded a rich man to go sell his possessions and give to the poor. (Matthew 19:21) To an expert of the Mosaic law He said go and show mercy. (Luke 10:37) To the woman at the well He told her to go face Her past sin and come to Him to quench her heart’s thirst. (John 4:16) To the woman condemned by man He offered free-dom from condemnation and the challenge to “go and sin no more.” (John 8:11) And to all His disciples, then and now, He commands us to…

“Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:19-20 

Let us respond to His invitation to “Come!” and obey His command to “Go!”

Jesus took time to go to a solitary place to pray. Throughout the Gospels we see Jesus pulling aside to pray. As Jesus faced the toughest moment of His life He pulled away to pray alone. He went to the Garden of Gethsemane, left His disciples behind, and prayed about the trials He faced. Many of our most difficult times will feel very lonely. Our Father is there for us in those moments, just as He was for Jesus, for us to come to Him in prayer.

The crowds get wearying. The demands of life leave us frazzled. Work and family and school and commitments pull us in a dozen different directions. We too need to pull away to a solitary place to pray. If Jesus needed to, then we need to exponentially more so. We don’t need to pull away to social media or to TV or to a glass of wine or to friends even – we need to pull away, alone, to our Father and pour out our hearts to Him in prayer and listen to what He has to pour out to us! That is where true refreshing of the soul resides.

“And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.” Mark 1:35

Jesus went to Golgotha for you and me. He made the greatest sacrifice of all time. He went to the cross and lay down His life for us.

As we come and go and mingle with friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers from day-to-day Jesus will call us to lay down our lives as well. We probably won’t be called upon to physically die for someone today, but it will sometimes feel like dying to do the compassionate things He asks us to do. That is what dying to self is all about. We lay down our rights and our plans and our wishes to go to that one in need. To come up to someone we don’t know well and offer to pray. To share the good news of Jesus as we go throughout this journey of life.

Are you tired of your rat race of coming and going? It’s time to give in to your Master who says “Come to me and I will give you rest.” It’s time to find strength and refreshment in Him. Not only in His gentle “Come,” but in being obedient to His command to “Go!’

“Mama what kinda crown you want?”

“Whatever kind you think will be good Mags! Thanks!”

She had asked me from the kitchen. Her Daddy had spent the better part of the last several days working at a makeshift office on the kitchen table. It’s fairly portable and we “clear the table” for meals. I had taken over the living room office, in preparation for some jam-packed weeks to come.

Scott Martin rarely complains, he just unpacks and packs up his work stuff, transitions with ease and with an almost alarming flexibility just “rolls with it.” Once he sat on our unmade bed, held a borrowed microphone and recorded radio segments for some not so local radio stations because the Martin homeschoolers with an armload of new science books had taken over every room but our bedroom.

He knew “partly sunny with a high of 89” might not bode well with “Look at this blobfish!!! It’s just like it says ‘a rainbow of ugly!’ Bahahaha” thereby eliminating another opportunity at recording said weather segments. He never once complained. I would have. I’d’ve raised the dead yelling about it. He just keeps on rollin’ with it.

The night she asked me about the crown, I entered the kitchen-slash-office-turned-crafting-center to prepare for dinner. As I entered the multipurpose room, the chaos and disarray of it all slowly absorbed into my already weary mind. I started to open my mouth to complain but instead choose to look not just see. There at the table, my youngest, the one that struggles desperately, chatting away. Nonstop asking her Daddy questions,

“Is there really a dark side of the Moon? Has anyone seen it?”
“Do blind people dream in color?”
“Why didn’t Noah put the dinosaurs in the ark?”
“If you lived in a treehouse where would you go to the bathroom?”
“Why do I only like blueberries in a muffin?”
“Can we take our dog to a dog psychologist to see why he keeps getting on the kitchen table?”
“What makes Pepper so spicy?”

He nodded and worked, she kept crafting and cutting, all the while talking, like a magpie that never quits chirping she went on and on. We have learned she questions when she is anxious. A week of unknowns had thrust her into an anxiety-ridden baseline that causes her counterparts their own anxiety. They’d long ago sought shelter elsewhere; The Scarlet Letter preferred to their youngest sister’s anxiety influenced behavior.

Her Daddy sat working. She stood. Evidently she’d been standing a while. He nodded and responded appropriately. He patiently answered her questions for the umpteenth time. He encouraged her crown making from paper, noting she “is good at arts and crafts.” He joked with her and made her giggle. He patiently reminded her for the second time it was time to clear the table for supper. She smiled and acknowledged that even though “Mama wouldn’t let her watch tv she was sorta glad.” He agreed, he was sorta glad too.

As I took it all in I took a picture. That paper crown perched perfectly atop his head. He wore it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. If it’d have been a new custom-made baseball cap with his favorite team he would have worn it just as proudly. It wasn’t until later I saw that she’d made it to match his shirt. As I watched them briefly just before my presence interrupted them, gratitude washed over me. Gratitude for this exchange. Grateful for patience that extends beyond my own. Gratefulness for a Daddy for who loves his children wholly. Grateful that he sees the fragility of the one before him and he loves her anyway.

Grateful for a glimpse again of the King and how He loves me, brokenness and all. I suppose when I get to Heaven I’ll know for sure, but for a brief moment in time that night, in our humble kitchen I saw from behind what Heaven is like and it is a beautiful thing indeed.

A testimony by guest author Alecia Singleton

No one wants to face trials, but out of trials comes a triumph. God is ever faithful and He keeps showing himself strong. Psalm 46:1 sticks out in my mind.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

I had been sick, but thought it would go away.

I was having dizzy spells that first started mild and progressed over time. The dizziness became so bad that it did not matter if I was sitting, standing or laying down, I felt like everything was spinning. I was sick beyond sick. I did not see an end in sight.

I was first told to go to the ER. They were thinking that it was my heart, however, my heart was fine. I had gone to my primary doctor and they ran many tests and all came back normal.

I went back to see my primary doctor and there was another doctor seeing me, because my doctor was busy. This doctor asked if anyone had checked my thyroid? I said no and she proceeded to order a full thyroid screening. The results came back showing an under-active thyroid. I was thanking God that we finally had an answer. But my next thought was, what is an under-active thyroid and is it treatable? Thankfully, this is a treatable disorder, but the other part to this, it also could be cancerous.

I was blessed in the aspect that I had no cancer. They began to treat the thyroid condition with medication, but I was told that the medication that I was on could eventually cause problems with my liver and that I needed to decide if I wanted to have surgery to remove the thyroid and be on meds for the rest of my life or allow them to perform a radiation treatment on the thyroid. I opted to have the surgery, because there were too many what ifs about the radiation treatment.

I was referred to see a surgeon. During the consultation with the surgeon, he asked if I sing and I said yes, and his next words were, “I have to let you know, when the surgery is over, you will not be able to sing again.” I spoke with authority letting him know that God blessed me with my voice and I believe when this is over, I will be able to sing again. The surgeon said, “If you are able to sing, you will not be able to sing loud or high.”

I had my Thyroid surgery on March 16, 2005, and the surgery went fine. I received confirmation, no cancer. My voice was raspy, but I expected that right after surgery, but as time went on, my voice was still raspy.

Three months went by and my voice was still raspy. The devil brought it back to me what the surgeon said that I would not be able to sing again. I said God you have got this. I began to pray the word of God over me from Hebrews 13:21:

“Now may the God of peace… equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.”

I could sing, but my voice would just cut off. I had to continue to trust God and believe His promises. I had to tell God that I made a declaration to the surgeon that I would be able to sing and that His Word told me that I would not be put to shame. One year later, my voice was still not back to normal, but it was much better. I began to sing to the glory of God. I told God that if He allowed my voice to come back, that I would always glorify him.

I am here to tell you that God is so faithful, He met me at my point of need. I knew what I could hear and I knew it was not right, but God, in his time, He healed my voice and I do not take my voice for granted. I know the power of God through the testing of my faith. When you see and hear me sing, I am not just saying words, I am singing, because I have experienced Gods hand at work in my life. I will always sing to the glory of God.

Alecia