Recently one word out of this verse hit home: advisers. Plural.
Notice it does not say adviser.
In fact, the verse says many.
I never really thought too much about this until the last six months when I’ve needed some good advice on some complicated issues.
Several years ago, “What Would Jesus Do?” was a popular phrase among Christians. This was the measure to use in decision-making. Pattern your behavior after Him. Not a bad idea, right? It’s a little harder to put into practice.
When I was growing up, I imagined how cool it would be to have a videophone. This was a futuristic idea only seen on TV at the time. Well, it’s not futuristic anymore. It is common practice, especially now.
I have to admit, I don’t really like a quiet house. If I am alone, I’ll turn on the TV for some background noise. When fixing dinner or cleaning up, I like to watch or listen to something. I immediately sense the urge to turn on a little HGTV, etc. Even in the car, I am listening to something. Not that this is wrong, but I have allowed this to become a habit for me.
When I was a child, there was a “Mr. Men” and “Little Miss” book series written by Roger Hargreaves. The characters in the stories had dominant personality traits that either caused them problems or showed another character how to engage in the positive quality. Everyone learned something through the moral lesson of story.
A few months back I came to an intersection. As I looked to my right, about 100 yards down the road, a truck was spinning out of control and came to a stop just off the road. He apparently had a tire blowout. As I watched, one of his wheels came hurtling towards me, rolling and bouncing all the way. As it got closer, I eased forward a little, and it crossed the road about 15 feet behind my car.
Spring cleaning has taken on a new meaning these days. Closets, drawers and attics have been reorganized. Our yards and gardens may be looking better than years before. Surely there is some comfort gained while our to-do lists dwindle. But some people are entering into a restless phase while this virus continues to take center stage in our lives. I have begun to sigh when I hear the morose acronym...COVID-19.
Every January, the women’s minister in my church encourages us to pray and choose a word for the year that would serve as a personal principle or motivator for the coming year. The word I chose in January 2020 was forward. I also wrote a devotional, which was published in February on this website. Today I share an excerpt with you, friend, to show you about God’s power, love and mercy. My God supplied my needs now by giving me these words then. I am invariably humbled by his foresight, love and care.
At first, the quarantine was not so bad. I had diligently stocked our pantry while often having flashbacks of my childhood. My grandmother’s kitchen was the center of family life, and she knew how to skillfully prepare meals on a limited budget. It’s funny that my newly acquired habit of carefully selecting organic fresh meats and produce flew out the window when I found myself feeling a sense of security with rice, beans, pasta, canned and frozen foods. Old recipes came to my mind, which brought comfort and I’m sure a few pounds!
The effects of the Pandemic of 2020 will be shared in every family. Sadly, those who contracted and survived the virus will describe their suffering and even sadder, the families who suffered loss will memorialize their loved one for generations.list
For some reason, God prepared my heart last year about the seriousness of living with an epidemic. I was viewing websites of colleges our granddaughter was considering attending in the fall, which included Abilene Christian University. It was there I read the featured story of Alumnae Kent and Amber Brantly.
I’m not the family historian. Fortunately, other members have faithfully gathered helpful information and ancestral stories. I have two amazing grandmothers who lived through the Great Depression and World War II. Their faith that God would care for them remained strong. I also discovered a circuit riding pastor in my lineage, multiple church deacons, a cowboy who drove cattle to feed the confederate army, farmers, school teachers, a whaler, a constable and a physician.
“They’re back! I see four cows and a calf from the neighbor’s west pasture! I can’t tell where they came through!” yelled my husband. We donned our boots and gloves to search the fence line. Sure enough, broken wires and a rotten fence post solved the mystery. Time for repairs.
“Majestic” was the only word that came to mind as we texted our sightings to one another. Imagine our excitement discovering eagles had chosen a tall pine tree on our family’s ranch for building their nest! Week by week, the busy parents brought sticks to slowly increase the dimension of what would eventually become a six-foot treetop castle. We waited while the female eagle patiently incubated her eggs. The proud pair now spend their day hunting for food and perching protectively near the nest. They seem proud of their accomplishment! This weekend we finally saw the eaglets! One hopped up onto the side of the nest when a parent arrived with supper dangling from its talons. A second one popped up to vie for its portion.
The word caught me by surprise and enthralled my heart. I guess it’s something every little girl wants to feel, “beloved by her father.” I remember a tender moment while visiting my grandmother’s home. For some reason, I saw my father standing with hands in pant pockets, and head tilted back studying the 8 X 10 groupings of Granny’s nine infant grandchildren. I heard him ask my mother, “Are those our babies?” I realized he was trying to identify the faces of his own babies among the display. As a young adult, I suddenly realized I had once been his baby. I do have pictures of him peering proudly into the bassinet at little, swaddled “me.” Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to continue communicating that adoration throughout the rest of my life—but tender expressions are absolutely no problem for God!
I’m practicing deep breathing as part of daily relaxation disciplines. In my morning devotions I discovered a reason I actually can relax because it’s all going to come together—all this craziness that surrounds me. I feel relief just imagining this new reality.
Truth is ladies, we cannot transform lives; only the Spirit can. As promised, Jesus sent the Spirit of truth (John 14:16-17) to His bewildered band of followers at Pentecost, resulting in 3000 plus conversions that day (Acts 2:41). The spiritual regeneration of Paul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:1-19) was astonishing. We read of many others living by the Spirit from the moment of their transformation. Apparently though, the Galatians had started along that path but were now out of step with Him.
Ladies, until Christ is formed in you is such a formidable thought to me. That Paul, a man, should wrap it in childbirth is quite intriguing. And yet Jesus Himself introduced the image of spiritual rebirth into Scripture: “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again” (John 3:3). Certainly, on his initial visit to Galatia Paul labored to rebirth his friends into God’s family. He is now, again, in the pains of making sure these children of his grow up in the faith.
On one hand, the radical transformation in me is complete when, by my faith, I am baptized into Christ as Paul phrases it—immersed in His Spirit. I am declared in right standing with God. It is that same righteousness by faith credited to Abraham (3:6).
So, why was Paul so astonished (1:6) as to call his friends in Galatia foolish (3:1)? Not wasting words he jumped right in: you are so quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel—which is really no gospel at all (1:6-7). He was adamant they understand the monumental personal transformation each had undergone, not by the law but by faith.
