Lord, I don’t want to go back there, but I’ll do it if you will help me, I prayed in my car. Our Sunday morning class had been invited to join a burgeoning ministry at the local emergency shelter. Once a week, several ladies from the class brought activities and small gifts for the girls at the shelter. Some of the staff and girls were engaging while others looked at us with suspicion.
I am the queen of unfinished projects. I started painting the rooms in my house a couple of months ago. Then life happened, and I haven’t gotten back to it. A chair sits in the corner I’ve been hoping to recover. I removed the old fabric and bought new fabric. I ran into a couple of problems. I am trying to decide how best to rectify the issues. So the chair sits unfinished, not far from the paint cans and brushes.
I rented a cabin on Lake Catherine in Arkansas for a week to spend time with the Lord and work through a challenging time in life. I searched for a study to guide my time with Him. So, one evening, I stood in between the shelves of LifeWay, praying for the Lord to show me which book to pick.
Once, I was sharing something with a friend. She stopped what she was doing, turned toward me, and gave me her full attention. It was a very busy time for her, but she still stopped everything. It struck me how this made me feel; valued, loved, and my words were important to her. It was a slight gesture that weighed tons in my soul.
We are to have compassion in our relationships, but what about that person who continually causes strife? The one that drives us to the feet of Jesus and to seek counseling?
We all have people in our lives who either grate on our nerves or treat us disrespectfully. I don’t know about you, but I am guilty of sometimes reacting with the same attitude.
Today, I write from a place of raw emotion. How is it sometimes the people closest to you wound you the most? If God created us for relationships, why are they so hard? At times, friendships prove challenging. Sometimes, family trumps the charts in difficulty.
As I started writing this week, I mentioned that I wanted to wait to tell my story. I wanted to wait until I could write the ending. I wanted the story to have the ending that I believe was coming, the ending I was hoping for. I trust that God is going to do great things in the life of my daughter. I trust that He is working all things out. But again I am faced with the truth that the story that I would write for her may not be His story.
The fall progressed. I had begun weaving her future story in my mind as we waited for the spring track and field season. She was going to have the comeback of the year. The stuff you see in movies. We were ready and waiting to see this play out.
My daughter jumped in. She was ready to be on a collegiate track and field team. God granted me grace once again, but this time it was to drop my baby girl off at college. Y’all when I tell you that God is good, I am meaning it RIGHT HERE.
After surgery, the next step was healing. Physical therapy. Doctor’s appointments. Knee braces and crutches. No driving for a senior in high school. She was patient in the process. She followed the doctor’s advice with rest and therapy.
God teaches us through life circumstances, and He weaves his truth, grace, and peace throughout. I want to share what He has done and is doing in my life. It’s my testimony. Writing these words has been difficult. And I have been waiting for the Lord to complete the story before I wrote about it. But I feel that the Lord wants me to write even though the story doesn’t necessarily have an ending.
Have you ever been in a tight spot…a place of restriction and confinement? Perhaps circumstances have narrowed your world. Maybe the decisions ahead seem bridled and limited. Could it be that your heart is bound up in despair and hopelessness?
I love the story of Isaiah 6. The prophet tells us of his magnificent vision: ”I saw the Lord, seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple” (Isaiah 6:1). And it gets even more glorious as he tells of six-winged seraphs calling to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty” (Isaiah 6:3). The doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple filled with smoke. Isn’t that awesome?
I was up in the wee hours last night. Now that my babies are teenagers, my mid-night awakenings are my own fault and not their hunger or restlessness. I walked to the back of the house where uncovered windows face the inky backyard, and I was amazed at how just a tiny bit of ambient light chases the darkness away. Regardless of how deep and long and wide the darkness, just a speck of light can reveal things hidden.
“Why do you love God?, the bitter woman spewed at my mother.
“I love Him because I know Him,” she answered quietly.
It was a bitter disappointment. My daughter had worked hard and felt like she’d demonstrated necessary skills to advance to the higher-level orchestra. But instead, she saw her closest musician-buddies move ahead, leaving her further back than before.
By the end of May the Covid threat was lessening, so when aunt ‘Chelle called to recruit blueberry pickers, grandson #3 and I jumped at the chance. It was a gorgeous day. Didn’t matter that we had to drive twenty minutes. Didn’t matter that they had to take our temperature. We were free, our masks were off, and the blueberries were plentiful. Armed with the secret to efficiency—attach your pail to your belt so you can use both hands—we found a row to ourselves.
Paul was on a roll: Mark my words! (5:2), you foolish Galatians! (3:1). They were in Christ by faith; so are we. They were set free by Christ for freedom (5:1); so are we. They were called to be free (5:13), as are we. High time we, along with those Galatians, put our own personal exclamation marks on Paul’s words.
Ladies, I have to admit—it’s the being free in this world of ours with its expectations that gets tricky. And way back then, a mere fifteen or so years from the cross, Paul’s friends in Galatia were being burdened by the rule-making of the religious zealots. Considering that God’s concept of freedom in Eden with its one rule had spiraled down to the 613 Torah plus multi oral laws by Jesus’ time, it was not surprising. Faith was too easy. Let’s add a little circumcision here, some dietary restrictions there, a few of the old feast days. Then you will be saved for sure.
