I don’t know about you, but sometimes I’m surprised when God allows me to go through a difficult trial. If I am trying my best to follow, love, and serve Him with my whole heart, why would He allow this struggle? One day, the realization came to me; well, why not me? If God allowed His Son to endure the cross, what makes me special enough to receive an exemption from struggles?
Yesterday, we read about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego’s faith. They told Nebuchadnezzar they were not afraid of his threats of throwing them into the fiery furnace if they chose to not bow down to the golden statue. With such a display of their faith, we might hope that God would rescue them from even being thrown in to begin with, but that is not what happened.
I will never forget the beautiful lesson that came when I asked God to release me from a seemingly hopeless situation. About 4 years into a “No” from God, I came across Daniel 3 in my ladies’ Bible study. In this story, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to bow down and worship King Nebuchadnezzar’s golden statue.
Have you ever experienced a situation that appeared hopeless - where darkness closes in, and the way out seems hidden? It might be that your shoulders feel the weight, and intense emotion crushes your chest. Do these feelings sound familiar? In response to some pretty serious persecution, Daniel and his friends most likely would answer with a resounding yes.
Luna was “ours” for about a month.
We found her meowing just outside our door.
This wasn’t the first time we’d seen Luna. Sometimes she would lay around our porch. She had a collar, and we knew she had a family — just down the street.
Just this week, I saw a Facebook post that feeling thankful lowers your stress by 23%.
It sounded good, but I wanted to check it out.
What I found excited me.
We used to think we could get more done by multitasking, but the latest research shows this to be false. According to numerous studies, multitasking causes more errors than focusing on a single task.
I know this all too well.
I don’t have a singing voice. In fact, I am somewhat tone deaf. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.
While that sometimes stops me from singing now, it did not stop the 5-year-old me.
As a child, I felt special every time I took a bath at my Granny’s house.
At that time, Granny only had one bathroom. The tub, sink and toilet were probably 30 years old. The water pressure wasn’t that great, but I didn’t care about any of those things.
When my son was around two, he thought he saw his daddy from behind. He started running toward the man, and when he rounded the corner, I saw a horrified look on my son’s face. The man was not his daddy – not at all what my son was expecting. The man looked very similar to my husband from behind, from his build to his bald head, but one glimpse of his face revealed the truth. I explained to the man that my son was a little surprised and upset because he was not who my son had expected him to be.
My friend was having trouble getting her 7-year-old daughter up and ready for school in the mornings. After repeatedly asking her daughter to do her morning routine, she decided she had enough. She asked her daughter to come to the bathroom to brush and style her hair, but she didn’t keep asking. Her daughter hadn’t come in to get her hair styled by the time my friend was finished in the bathroom. When the girl wanted her hair brushed, the mom calmly told her that she had missed her chance. She didn’t follow her mom’s instructions, so she would have to go to school with her hair as it was. Hair au naturel – the natural consequence.
Are these new verses to you? Not likely. Many of us have these verses memorized, and we even classify these as all-time favorites. These words are truth, but it is difficult for us to really live them out.
The other day I was taking off my jewelry, and I must have pulled too hard on my ring. It flew off the end of my finger when I pulled it over my knuckle. I heard it hit the carpet. I immediately got on my hands and knees to look for my ring. I must have looked for 20 minutes before I decided to stop and try again later. After looking later, I still could not find my ring. I knew it was there, and I also knew that I would find it with continued searching.
Once my daughter and a friend of hers got into a little disagreement. As I asked the girls what the problem was, each girl began telling her side of the story . . . simultaneously. When they realized that neither was backing down, each girl spoke louder and louder. My son was standing right beside me, and his observation was, "That's too many words!" I laughed and had to agree.
One last stop in Oregon ladies, at the Lewis and Clark National Historical Park in Astoria. Surely you know of Lewis and Clark; but let me refresh your minds.
Are you up for a bit of adventure today ladies? We’re about to enter Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area. Feast your eyes on the largest expanse of coastal sand dunes in perhaps all the world, stretching 50 plus miles south to north between 101 and the Pacific. The National Forest Service maintains this area; their brochure and plaques along the way fill in the stats. For instance, the foredunes nearest the beach can be 25-50 feet high, while those further inland—average, 2.5 miles—rise maybe 200 feet, the record being 500 feet.
How then shall we live, you and I, in the amazing grace of the Branch (Jesus) from the stump of Jesse (Isaiah 11:1)? That’s the big question. It all began with the tree of life (Genesis 3:9); it will end with the tree of life (Revelation 22:14). In the interim, in this life, how indeed do we function like the trees planted by the streams of water that we now are, in Christ?
Time for a hike today, ladies. Lady Bird Johnson Grove beckons. In June, or so the park ranger tells us, the rhododendrons are in beautiful bloom. Today we are amazed by all the lush ferns carpeting the forest floor. The trail through the tropical rainforest proves to be extremely refreshing. Some of the old redwoods are monstrous. So are the fallen logs and stumps, purposefully left au naturel by the park service, to do their thing—shoot sprouts of new growth up to the sun. I am intrigued.
Hop aboard, ladies. We’re taking a ride up the Oregon coast this week to see some amazing sights in God’s creation. First stop, a touch of grandeur in Redwood National Park. The California or coastal redwood, scientific name sequoia sempervirens, grows only in a narrow strip of land from northern California through Oregon, close to the coast yet not too close as it doesn’t like salt spray. Plentiful rainfall and summer fog of the region are just what they need—fog drip accounts for 30% of the yearly water supply. The “redwood” name comes from a bright red, fibrous bark when freshly exposed. They boast the tallest—Hyperion, at 379’—but cannot match the 102’ girth of the General Sherman, a non-related sequoiadendron giganteum in the Sierra Nevadas.*
No suspicion of a cancer diagnosis was in my mind that day—it was just a routine checkup. The shock of the radiologist’s brief clinical explanation caused me to sense a surreal atmosphere. I visualized to-do lists and calendar pages flying through the air like paper airplanes landing directly into the wastebasket. Recovery from shock was gradually realized in a few days when a reservoir of inner peace began to flow.
