Woman! You Are Loved!

woman-1195276_1280.pngFrizzy hair.

Stretch marks.

Overweight.

Lost a job.

No ring on the left hand.

Rebellious kids.

No kids.

Sin.

Financial ruin.

Failure.

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!

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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.)
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Rebellion.

Selfish demands.
Surly words.
Shameful choices.

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

Regret.

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.

Rejection.

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

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Imperishable!

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.

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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.

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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)

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The Journey: Wheelbarrow Rides

Squeals of fear and delight erupted as my husband pushed our grandkids around the yard in the wheelbarrow. It was a simple, spring Saturday, reminiscent of those I’d had myself as a child – the kind of day that is becoming scarce in the busy-ness of 21st Century life. The smiles were ear-to-ear one moment followed by tight lips, big startled eyes and death grips the next. It was a great day full of fun! After baths, we were all  worn out and settled in to sleep by 8:30pm. Life the way it’s supposed to be.

Isn’t that how life is on this journey with Father God?

One moment were squealing with delight, pure joy, thrilled at the ride Our Lord has taken us on. Then in a heartbeat we’re gripping tightly onto anything around us, caught off guard, feeling as if danger lurks around the next corner, not liking it at all that we are not in control.

We adults need some tips for our wheelbarrow ride with Jesus!

  1. Hang on tight – You’re not in control! Hanging on is fine as long as we grab onto the right thing. “You, God, are my God,… I cling to you;” (Psalm 63:8) Our job in any of the thrills or chills of life is to cling to the Father. Hang on and trust Him. He’s got it! It doesn’t seem like it sometimes. That wheelbarrow may seem like it’s about to tip over. He may not always take us where we want to go. He’s in control. And he’s got a great ride planned for us, if we can relax and trust him.
  2. Praise the Lord! Squeal out loud! Tell everyone around you in loud, excited tones. Don’t hold back. We adults tend to fret over being too exuberant, sounding arrogant, or looking weird to others. Get over it! Psalm 63:3-4 says, “Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands.” The psalmist was unafraid to declare the blessings, joy, and praises of his life. We should be as well.
  3. Remember God’s omnipotent power & majestic glory! Psalm 63:2 “I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory.” When we feel we’re about to “tump” over in that wheelbarrow, fear is a natural reaction for a moment. However, that fear should spur us to dig in the Word and pour out the prayer. In His Word we’ll see His power over illness, nature, demons, even death. We serve a powerful God who can do what He says in His word He can do. With Him NOTHING is impossible. As we read and pray and allow ourselves to fully believe, our faith is strengthened, the anxiety subsides. We’ll be able to say through the tears “I really don’t like this Lord. But I love you and trust you. I know you’re strong enough to handle this. I’m just afraid you’re going to allow something painful in my life. I’m yours. Lord. I love you no matter what.”
  4. Enjoy the ride! Be satisfied in what the Father has provided for us! Psalm 63:5-7 “I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you. On my bed I remember you; I think of you through the watches of the night. Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings.” The night after the wheelbarrow ride we had a yummy dinner on the deck. PapaSto grilled hamburgers and hotdogs on the deck. And the boys did go to bed with singing on their lips. (It was the PJ Masks theme song as they lay down watching it before they went to sleep – but still… their was joy in their little hearts.) And we adults can feast on what He provides for us and lay down in joy to sweet sleep as well.
  5. Long for those precious times with Your Father! When “Da Boyz” – my grandkids as my husband calls them – are not with their Granddaddy, they miss him. They miss all he does with them and for them. They miss his love and hugs. They miss his Saturday morning breakfasts and grilling out and ice cream sandwiches. They miss bike rides, mountain climbs, camping trips, and wheelbarrow rides among other things. When we see them during the week and it’s not a night they are coming to spend the night with Gigi, they always beg to come over. They know PapaSto will have something good planned. And we should have that hope and joy in our Heavenly Father! Verse 1 of Psalm 63 says, “You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you, in a dry and parched land where there is no water.” Just as we long for those simple, sweet days of childhood past, a part of us longs for what was lost back in the Garden of Eden through the curse of sin. We long for joy without pain, the knight in shining armor to sweep in and rescue us, and a life of beauty and peace instead of the chaos and the mundane that mark our lives. I sometimes find myself retreating from these thoughts of What if sin had never entered the world? and What if life were beautiful and uncomplicated as when God first created the Garden? Somehow those thoughts seem sad to think. But in reality we need to hope for life the way it was meant to be. We need to dwell on the promise of a New Heaven and New Earth. Hope in a forever with Jesus strengthens us to walk through this life, so spend some time contemplating your future hope. Allow yourself to long to be with your Heavenly Daddy, to long for Paradise Lost to be regained!
  6. Remember that our Father will protect and defend. Psalm 63:9-11 says, “Those who want to kill me will be destroyed; they will go down to the depths of the earth. They will be given over to the sword and become food for jackals. But the king will rejoice in God; all who swear by God will glory in him, while the mouths of liars will be silenced.” When those little munchkins are riding with their Granddaddy, they are never afraid of strangers or robbers or bad guys. They have no doubt that their Papa would defend them, lay down his life for them, and keep them safe. We can rest in our Daddy in the same way. God is on your side.

We often feel we have to push and strive and make our way in this world. But really we are God’s own children riding in that wheelbarrow. He’s the one directing us and doing the work to get us through. So as you ride through the joys and terrors of life, never forget who is pushing the wheelbarrow.

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The Power of Words

Proverbs 25:11 – A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.

How are your words lately?

Kind, loving, true, hopeful, healing, affirming? Intentional, inspiring, uplifting?

Hateful, hurtful, spiteful, careless, mean? Stinging, abusive, discouraging, destroying, judgemental?

close-up-colors-face-925350.jpgWords are so important. There are gentle and encouraging words. Life-giving words. And there are crushing and unpleasant words that tear down and even alter the course of a person’s life. Proverbs 18:21 says that death and life are in the power of the tongue. Another verse in Proverbs says that a soothing tongue is a tree of life, but a perverse tongue crushes the spirit. Wow! What power there is in the words that we speak to others.

  • Words impact our children

I read once that if you tell a child they are mean or rebellious, they will set out to prove it is true. Make sure that you are speaking words of truth and life into them so that they will want to prove the positive rather than the negative. I used to tell my kids that they were driving me crazy. That phrase was mostly said in jest, but one particularly rough day, my little girl apologized for driving me crazy when I didn’t even say it.  I didn’t want my kids to believe those words, just to stop whatever it was they were doing. Words of correction and direction need to be loving no matter what the situation.

  • Words impact our spouses

model-2748342_1280Oh, how our husbands need our affirmation and encouragement. Even if they aren’t the best at something, or if they may not be what you thought they were when you married them, don’t let them hear you tear them down or compare them to others. Maybe the kind and affirming word you speak to them will dispel the negative things they have believed about themselves from someone else’s ugly words. Marriages are torn apart by careless words. Good marriages are strengthened by words of respect and love and forgiveness.

  • Words impact everyone around us

There are people all around us, every single day, who never get a word of affirmation or love or affection. They never hear that they are cared for or loved or that they are important. Or that they are beautiful and that they matter. Be intentional in what you say to people you encounter as you move about your daily life.  It only takes a few seconds to smile and speak to someone. Don’t you just feel so good when someone else just smiles at you and tells you to have a blessed day?

We should be careful with our words because Jesus takes our words very seriously. In Matthew 12:36, he said that on the day of judgement, we will give an account of every careless word. That tells us that we need to pay attention to every word. Speak words of truth to people from God’s word. What better words are there than the kind and loving words that our gentle Savior speaks to us through HIS WORD? Even when we disagree with someone, our words need not be harsh and hateful. I’m so thankful for our sweet Savior’s love and mercy and forgiveness when I think about the times my words have wounded another.

bow-box-candles-238467.jpgMany years ago I heard Florence Littauer share about the impact of the words that we speak. She said that our words should be “like a little silver box with a bow on top”. That’s how I want my words to be. Encouraging and true. A gift.  I don’t want my words to cause pain for others. Once the words are spoken, they can’t be taken back.  Florence’s words had an impact on me all those years ago and I still tear up to this day when I hear her message. You can hear her powerful “Silver Box” message here.

“Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” Ephesians 4:29 

 

Lesson from the Lunch Bunch

Every Wednesday during the school year I find myself hanging out with some women and children who hunger for the King and His word. It’s a unique kind of Bible Study and it has stretched me in more ways than I could have ever imagined. My friends and I dive in deep, firmly plant ourselves and invest into eternity for the majority of the Day. I have several roles there but one of my favorites it to be the facilitator for the Sheep Lunch Bunch Opening Ceremony.

The open ceremony is when the Sheep friends (Preschoolers to Kindergartners) open their lunches. I instituted the Opening Ceremony some years ago when the chaos of 18 preschoolers all opening their packed-at-home lunches at the same time was too much for me to handle. In those early days there was much confusion over whose Lunchable that was or whose Mama didn’t pack a surprise snack, there are always cheers for the Mama who did. The kid whose Mama packs him raisins every single week, who has yet to tell her he doesn’t like raisins, I sometimes wonder if he does like them every other day of the week. The opening of lunchables has repeatedly proven to be a challenge for pudgy preschool digits with limited dexterity. If one is not careful one can in a single motion sling every item from its individual compartment thus resulting in airborn cookies, cheese, all manner of meats and preschool sized snacks across the room. This never ends well. Tears are inevitable, confusion unavoidable and the day ruined. I had to find a way to bring order to the opening of the lunch boxes so I developed and instituted the Opening Ceremony. Now the eager Sheep have a method and organization to their lunch consumption. A laid out plan to adhere to.

First: Bottoms must be in chairs and Hands in the air.

Second: Everyone gets a dollop of hand sanitizer we “Rub, Rub, Rub tops and sides and Let it dry” The let it dry portion is usually accompanied by jazzy hands.

Third: We give a shout out to Jesus and give our prayer requests.

Prayer-Activities-for-Kids-504328300-585419773df78ce2c3b05c3cI never grow tired of this part. We’ve prayed for the Daddies, all the Daddies represented in the room, for dogs and cats, and Mommies. Hurt fingers and toes and loved ones whom I’ve never met. We have prayed for jobs and work and cars and all manner of things that make up the world we live in. We have celebrated birthdays and accomplishments, new baby brothers or sisters (there has been a repeated request that we pray for Mama because she says she’s gonna have a girl but it’s really gonna be a boy so a baby brudder can have a brudder too). We have thanked God for lunches and Bible study days, and most of all for Jesus Himself who loves us all dearly and without whom none of it would be possible or worth it.

Then there is the countdown, then carefully each one opens his or her lunch at the same time. Some of my adult friends and myself methodically work our way around the room opening packages and food bearing parcels. It is a fabulous good time, one that whets my own appetite for my own packed at home lunch not packed by my Mama but my own hand.

Typically by the time I eat my lunch I am ravenous, having spent the morning zooming too and fro, loving on kids and talking with ladies. Counting and sorting and crafting. Listening and talking, laughing and walking. Praying and studying. It is the makings of an exhausting but good day.

Recently during Opening Ceremony I had made my way to the lunch box of a Sheep friend when after I had opened the prepackaged food items I straightened and headed toward his neighbor to begin the opening process all over again. I felt a tug on my dinosaur tee shirt. My Sweet friend C. loves a dinosaur and has often been extremely impressed that I, a grown up, have worn a dino-tee-shirt “just for him.” I felt another pull on my shirt and looked down, inches from my face was an Uncrustable sandwich.
“Here.” he held the sandwich firm insisting I had forgotten something.

“I opened it Buddy”

“No-o-o You didn’t take off da crust!”

“It’s an UN-CRUST-able.”

“Yeah but you didn’t take off the crust!” Clearly frustrated with my lack of understanding he pointed to the crimped edge of the sandwich.

hqdefaultAs I stood there and tore the non-existing crust off of the sandwich, I mused that this must be how I am with the King. He has a plan, an excellent plan He moves about making sure I have all that I need. He had outlined repeatedly what I am supposed to do, yet somehow I find myself thrusting my proverbial sandwich his way, the one named for not having crust requesting He “Do something like take off the crust.”

I wonder if He looks at me quizzically, liked I looked at my 4 year old friend C. and thinks the obvious, “I’ve got this. I’ve got you. I am doing something. More than you know” yet at my insistence He takes the that Uncrustable of a situation and pulls that crimped edge off because he loves me, because He knows I am anxious about it and because He is kind.

My friend C. recently gave me a prized dino toy. It is a blue squishy T-rex. His Mama told me he sorted through eighteen other dinos to find the one he knew I would love. He was right, I do love it. I keep it in a bag and can readily access it. C. suggested I “squeeze it lots ‘cause it’s squishy.” I do as he suggested and I am reminded that the One who loves the Whole Wide World also loves me and that He was willing to go to extraordinary lengths because of that love. He did not shrink away from death, He intercedes on my behalf, and regularly peels the crust off my Uncrustable Sandwich.

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

Cease striving and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

I have loved you with an everlasting love. Jeremiah 31:3

Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10 

Peter: Chosen & Holy

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(If you haven’t read April’s first article on Peter, check it out here.)

Thoughts on 1 Peter… continued.

As mentioned before, Peter uses the word chosen several times in his letter to the exiled Jewish believers. It seems such a contrast to how they must’ve been feeling though…these believers are exiled from their home! They’re suffering persecution. They’ve fled for their lives. They’re experiencing everything but “chosen-ness” at this time, are they not?

However, herein lies the beautiful tension of being a chosen people of God, we are chosen to accomplish much more than our own narrow plans, our personal agendas, our finite purposes. We are chosen for the glory of God, to glorify the One who has indeed chosen us. And then there’s more

The richness of Peter’s letter begins early on in just the first few verses. He says these believers have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit

And there’s the more… The sanctification process.

He’s working to make me holy.

He’s working to conform me to the image of His Son.

He’s working to sanctify me by the Holy Spirit.

I recently finished reading through the books of Exodus, Leviticus, and on into Numbers. God is teaching the children of Israel how to be His people, how to live as holy. He gives them the guidelines and demands of receiving His blessings within this chosen community. And, He’s giving them the Tabernacle where He will dwell with them.

Image result for public domain picture tabernacle utensilsThe utensils in the Tabernacle are deemed as holy and are set apart, sanctified, for service in the Tabernacle. So often those utensils and other pieces were sanctified or made holy by blood or even fire. The process was intense and – if I may say so – quite gruesome at times. In order to purify an instrument for service, blood had to be shed, and sprinkled or applied or poured; a fire had to be lit while the instrument or the sacrifice itself endured or was consumed by the flame.

From the beginning, God has demonstrated to us that holiness doesn’t come by way of sheltered pampering and soft caresses. No, not at all. It comes in a violent way. Fire. Blood. Pain. Struggle. Trial. And if I may be so bold, we shrink back from this because we are not aware of the un-holiness that lies within, the depth of our un-cleanness. We cannot possibly recognize and acknowledge our colossal need for the strenuous cleansing that is required to make us holy. Glory to God for His abundant Grace. Amen!

Peter knew these things and he knew his fellow Jewish believers simply needed reminding. The trouble is seeing by faith the holy outcome while we’re in the midst of the fiery making. He reminds them, “You’re being sanctified by the work of the Spirit. Hang in there. The outcome will be worth it.”

So often we lose sight of these precious truths. The truth is we are a chosen people. The truth is we are being made holy. The truth is that God is working on our behalf and for His glory.

In the midst of the trial, there is a Craftsman and He knows exactly what He’s doing.

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The Main Thing…

I have the privilege of helping coach my little girl’s softball team over the next few weeks! We had our first game of the season last night. We are the Lilies!! For the last couple of weeks we have practiced and prepared fielding the ball, batting and learning the process of how the game works! We end each practice with a devotion and prayer and talk about encouraging each other on the field and off! We talk about loving Jesus and how that is THE MOST IMPORTANT thing. Softball is fun and we want to do our best but the main reason we are there is to lift up Jesus!

One of the traditions of the Upward games is that at the end of the game, a player gets the game ball. Last night for our team, it was an easy choice! I was coaching on the first base side when our team was on the field. One of our precious little girls (they are 5 and 6) caught the ball and got an incredible out on first base! It was a classic stretching catch softball-1577610_1280that would have made the ESPN highlights had the camera crew been there! After the dust settled, the little girl from the other team took her helmet off and headed back toward her dugout. As she left first base, our sweet little player grabbed her and gave her a big hug and said “sorry for getting you out!” I was a mess!! Needless to say, this precious little soul was the recipient of last night’s game ball!!

We met together after the game and had the honor of giving out the game ball and talking over how well the game went! We looked into those little faces and told them that softball is “good” but that JESUS is the main reason we are there! We talked about how proud we were of this little girl for her great play at first, but the hug and her encouragement was the most important thing. Sharing JESUS with the player from the other team was what was on her little heart! She was there to play softball but she did not forget the most important thing!

As I got ready for bed last night, I was thinking back about the game and that precious little girl’s face and her sweet little arms as she hugged the other player and encouraged her! I thought what a beautiful picture that was of her heart and how she was doing her “job” on the field but how JESUS was where he heart was! She used a regular opportunity in what she was doing to reflect the love of GOD. In that brief moment, the face of Jesus was a little brown-eyed blonde softball player standing on first base! The question floods my mind “Where am I?” Where am I sharing and encouraging and lifting up and praising? Where am I standing and sharing the gospel? Can people talk to me and hear the “good news” or do I get so wrapped up in my “job” that I forget “the main thing”?

passion-3111303_1280God gives us breath and life to be able to share the gospel through our everyday lives. We do not need a stage with lights and a crowd, sometimes a dusty softball field will do. He sets divine appointments in our path, and all He needs us to do is take them. I love the words in the praise song that says, “Your praise will ever be on my lips.” If we lived our lives with His praise on our lips each day, what a testimony we could share when we have a captive audience! The gospel is good news and God is matchless and powerful and gracious and we live in a world that is in desperate need of these things.

Someone in your path today needs to hear that God SO loved them that HE gave His Son for them and for their salvation. Someone needs to know that HE is the lover of their soul and the lifter of their head. There is a soul today searching for their purpose and their place and the world wants to make sure they do not find it. We have an urgency to share what HE has done in our heart with the folks around us! That’s the most important thing!!!

“For GOD so loved and dearly prized the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that whoever believes and trusts in Him shall not perish but have eternal life” John 3:16

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Stand Firm

I have said before that we have a little wiener dog in our house. She is a mini-dachshund but I rarely spell dachshund correctly. Her name is Pepperoni Sausage Dog. We call her Pepper for short. She may weigh 5 pounds on a heavy day. She is a dog food snob, she only likes the cheap stuff from the General Dollar Store, she is playful and we have taught her to say “I Love You” and “Mama”. She is rotten to the core and loved like crazy by the Martin 3. I am her favorite for reasons I have yet to figure out. Maybe it is because I am the Alpha of this pack or the fact that I am the provider of that cheap dog food, or maybe it is that when I take a nap she likes to cuddle up close to me. She has taught me much since she became a Martin. I once wrote an entire blog about a lesson she taught me pertaining to the daddy in our house.

girl-2518950_1920She is stubborn and in some ways predictable. Often she seeks refuge with me, she climbs onto my chest and will back her hind end close to my face. I push her down, correct her. I would like to say she immediately obeys never to return to that behavior again; if I did say that it would be a complete lie. She gets down, turns her long reddish-brown sausage body back and proceeds to climb back atop my person.

Recently Shelton was playing with her, he was pretending to “get Mama” she tends to be very possessive of me and gave him a short bark to warn him I was not his, but instead I was hers. Shelton laughed (so did I) he outweighs her by forty times yet she barked as if they were the same size. She backed herself up and her 5 pound self honestly felt heavier to me. I noticed that she had so firmly planted her scrawny paws into my chest that she was giving the impression that she was heavier, bigger, she had anchored herself and had no intention of giving up her ground despite her gigantic opponent. In her little wiener dog brain she must’ve reasoned that I was hers and she wasn’t about to back down because she had the backing of the Alpha Mama. Her little paws were so firmly planted that they dug into me and I recoiled, as the moments progressed and her opponent teased attack, she got heavier. I commanded her perceived threat to “leave her alone” and he yielded. She became lighter but I was thinking back to the pressure she had exerted just moments before that.

The pressure that her 5 pound max body was exerting was becoming painful. Yet the more threatened she felt the firmer she stood. I soon put her down to begin my to-do list for the day, but that mini-wiener put me to pondering.

She looked at me as if to say, “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Why’d you put me down?” She was standing her ground. She knows if push comes to shove I’ve got her back, well in her world anyway. If the kids won’t give her a tasty scrap, I likely will, even if by accident on my part, by way of kitchen messiness and clumsiness. She knows that I will make sure she is snug in a bed when it is cold and that she has lots of time in the backyard to chase lizards, chipmunks and other wiener foe. She knows and is secure in that. She knew if she firmly planted her feet that as long as she was in my lap, that annoying teenage boy would not be able to get her.

dachshund-2794944_1920Her physical demeanor and presence changed as she firmly planted those little paws, she stood firm, her bark insisted she meant business. She behaved as if knowing I would intercede on her behalf, shoo that boy away, and give her the reprieve she sought.

In that moment the King spoke. He reminded me that my Sausage Dog was more obedient than I tend to be when in a battle against an insurmountable foe. When he commands us regarding our adversary the devil, the one that desires to steal, kill, and destroy, He commands us to “Stand Firm,” to hold our ground and trust that HE will fight the battle and intercede on our behalf.

2 Chronicles 20:17 says “ You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf, O Judah and Jerusalem.’ Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed. Tomorrow go out against them, and the Lord will be with you.” Too many times I spend so much time barking loudly and looking around at the circumstances that I do not Stand Firm and I do not keep my eyes on my King.

My little wiener knew and stood firm in the truth that, she is mine and that I would move on her behalf. She did not have to fight the battle as long as she stood her ground, those little paws digging into my skin. She stood firm knowing her Master was behind her and ready to take action. My Master, my King too, stands behind me, ready to move and take action on my behalf.

Our little Pepper is as much obedient as she is ferocious, not very, but she is most definitely thought-provoking. May I stand as firmly against the enemy as that mini-wiener did against hers.

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