Nineveh Bound

Jonah 2:10 -- "Then the Lord commanded the fish, and it vomited Jonah up onto the dry land."

image: Adey Bryant/cartoonstock.com

Holding his breath so tightly that his lungs felt as if they would burst, Jonah sank into the depths of the boiling sea until he became entangled in large green weeds.  Suddenly anchored by kelp, he opened his eyes to see jagged rocks jutting up from the sandy sea floor. So deep under the breakers above him was he - that he hung there, face to face with the very root of mountains.

Ears throbbing from the pressure of the water around him, his desperate thoughts were of His Lord.

What prayers must have raced through his mind as hung there, suspended in slimy green leaves? Jonah knew he'd disobeyed, he knew he had no right to call out to God. In the throes of panic, however, he turned his eyes toward his Creator and pleaded for help.

To Jonah - at that moment - the great fish that swallowed him whole was respite. Once past the creature's gullet, he drew in air feverishly. The sour and the damp, the putrid smell of death that passed through his nostrils was of no consequence. The only thing that mattered was supplying his abused lungs with oxygen.

And then he sat. And he sat. And he sat.

Well, at least he wasn't in Nineveh. Anything was better than having to go to that dreaded place. The city about which God Himself said "was filled with people that didn't know their left from their right." [Jonah 4:11] AND - at least Jonah didn't have to let go of his anger. No, he had all the time in the world to let it fester and rot inside him - just like the decaying, partially digested parts of things that surrounded him in his safe haven. ...Until, that is - Jonah cried out to God. From the dank and churning stomach of a great fish, Jonah vowed to make good on God's commands.

He did NOT, however - vow to let go of his anger. Nope - he still clung to that. But that was o.k. wasn't it? I mean, Jonah wasn't going anywhere. He was stuck in the pits of the deep sea. It makes me wonder - did Jonah vow to make good on God's commands because he thought he'd never have to put his feet where his mouth was - so to speak? On that third day inside the belly of the beast, Jonah didn't KNOW he was about to be puked up onto sandy shores. He didn't KNOW that he would ever see the sun shining again, or feel the warm earth under his feet.

Though, he probably had a good idea he was about to be evicted from his new home of such great peace and quiet when the walls started to shudder and contract in an effort to push Jonah out.

And THAT's the thing. The fish did in fact puke Jonah out just like a person with food poisoning.

But ... was Jonah angry about that, too? Now he would HAVE to go to Nineveh. He did tell God that he would make good on His commands did he not?

So really, that big 'ole fish gave Jonah a giant stinky push back in the right direction. The J man could no longer hang out as far away from human life as one could possibly get. He could no longer hide out and revel in his quiet, albeit odorous, comfortable surroundings.

And they were comfortable for him, weren't they? He didn't have to DO anything. He didn't have to be polite to people, he didn't have to watch Ninevites actually heed his warnings and repent. He could just - stew in his own anger and self pity.

At least - deep down among the other bits of fish food Jonah couldn't go to Nineveh. ...right?

But ya know what - hiding out and holding on to his own comfort/anger isn't what God wanted from Jonah. And it's not what He wants from us, either.

Nope.

It's painfully difficult sometimes to stretch ourselves beyond our comfort zone. Muscles burn and our hearts ache from the using of them in a different way than that with which we are comfortable. Sometimes, we want to stew in our own anger, resentment, and pain. But - our time in the belly of a great fish must come to an end.

You and I, my friend - are indeed, Nineveh bound.

We aren't alone, though. We have the Holy Spirit and our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ to get us through the tight spots and to encourage us through our growing pains.

Amen! And thank you, Lord for THAT!

A Thankful Heart

Luke 17:15-16 -- "Now one of them, when he saw that he had been healed turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice, and he fell on his face at His [Jesus'] feet, giving thanks to Him. And he was a Samaritan."

image: Betty Wind/Arch Books

Even though it was October, heat rose up from the black top on the parking lot in visible blurry waves, filling my nostrils with that familiar aroma of hot tar. My arm itched where I bumped into the hedges trimming the tiny parking space we finally found among the ocean of other vehicles just outside the Chamblin Bookmine.

But the hassle and heat was ALWAYS worth it. Just picture it - rows and rows of books -  in a labyrinth of shelves so crammed together that one might find themselves a little claustrophobic. But the miles of glorious printed pages and the smell of old leather made up for the tight space.

Yes, I'm a bibliophile. I "blame" my mother [a fellow lover of books].

It all started with story time on a comfy sofa - far, far away from the Bookmine in Jacksonville -  and many years ago. My sister and I would snuggle on either side of Mom as she licked her fingers to turn the pages of a cherished Arch Book. Deep within the colorfully illustrated story - among the lepers of Luke 17 - I learned to remember to SAY thank you.

Walking the dusty roads with Jesus, Dr. Luke witnessed ten lepers approach in the hope that they would be healed of their horrible affliction. When Jesus healed them, the ten ran home to their families bubbling over with joy. But ONE of them, turned back and remembered to tell Jesus thank you.

image: Betty Wind/Arch Books 

That's it. Just ONE. ...AND he was a Samaritan, to boot! The one person out of the group of ten lepers that was mostly likely to avoid a Hebrew - turned back from his journey home to thank the Savior that healed him.

I'm sure the others were grateful. They must have been because they were overjoyed at the thought of finally being reunited with the people they loved. But none of them REMEMBERED to actually say thank you. Caught up in their new found freedom, they all just ... scattered, like busy ants, and hurried on home.

Have you noticed that Halloween decorations, candy, and costumes are barely put away in the Stuff Marts of our country before the Christmas merchandise is put out on the shelves? It's crazy. Sure, there is a tiny little assortment of "Fall" themed things that dot the Halloween assortment of chachkis, but really, Thanksgiving seems to be slightly overlooked - squished in between the Monsters and the Nativity.

I LOVE Thanksgiving! True, I love the change in weather, the colors, the recipes and that wonderfully nostalgic Thanksgiving Day Parade - but mostly I love that we collectively take a moment to remember to actually SAY thank you.

There are so many, many reasons why we should.

Today, Lord - as we begin the thankful month - I thank you so much for being The True Healer.

Let The Words Of My Mouth

Ephesians 4:29 -- "Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, that it may give grace to those who hear."

 

...In Whatever

I John 3:20 -- "In whatever our heart condemns us; for God is greater than our heart, and knows all things."

 

Persistent in Prayer

Romans 12:12 -- "Rejoice in hope; be patient in affliction; be persistent in prayer."

image: legacydad.com

Fewer things can be as dismal as a hospital room with no windows. Even if the only window in the room opens up to the interstate, it's still a view of the daylight and the vehicles travelling to and fro - moving about [probably way too fast] their daily goings on. What is it about being able to see beyond our pain or illness that's so encouraging?

Eons ago in a big city hospital two men were admitted at about the same time with a terrible case of the flew. Due to a large outbreak the two were forced to share a room. One of the men - Joe - was in pretty bad shape. So weak was he, that he was resigned to lay on his back day after day, and night after very long night while his condition improved. But the other man - Bob - had the strength to roll over to his sides and even sit up a bit while his body healed. As luck would have it, Bob's bed was by the only window amid the bleached white paint and scratched tile floors. Joe's view consisted of the ceiling and the long tubes of fluorescent white light that flickered from time to time.

Poor Joe.

But every single day after a nurse brought the men their noon meal the two men would pray together. Then Bob would prop himself up on weak arms and arrange his starched pillows so that he could take a peek outside. To Joe's delight, Bob would regale him with colorful and vibrant details about the kids playing in the park below - or the flowers that popped out on the cherry trees. One day, after a brief shower, Bob described a group of pre-teens trying to splash one another by jumping in the steaming puddles that gathered near the dips in the sidewalk. These playful and delightful details were the highlight in each man's day. Bob and Joe would laugh at the dog that sprayed water all over his owner when he shook out his long coat of fur. They would wonder together at the young woman and toddler that arrived at the hospital every day at the same time. The window was a gift to Bob and Joe. It gave them hope.

After the days turned into weeks, Bob's condition finally afforded him a discharge and after praying over him, Bob hugged his bedridden friend and wished him a fond farewell.

As a sad silence fell over the empty bed next to Joe, he pressed his call button and asked his nurse if she could move his bed over by the window. It would at least provide a break from staring at the ceiling - even if he couldn't raise all the way up to see outside.

When the wheels on his bed finally came to a stop, Joe struggled with everything he had and pushed himself up just enough that he could peer out ever so slightly. But what view greeted him left him speechless and confused. Just on the other side of the window there sprawled a large red brick wall.

Before the nurse could make it all the way out the door Joe said to her "I don't understand. Bob described so many wonderful things. How could he have seen anything with this wall in the way?"

The nurse turned around with a knowing smile on her face. "Joe," She said softly. "Bob couldn't have seen anything, anyway. He was blind."

Bob and Joe shared the flu, true - but they also shared hope, patience, and persistence. The two men rejoiced in the hope that an imaginary view provided as they patiently waited out each long day in a dull hospital room. In companionship the two men fought their illness and persistently prayed with one another.

Pray without ceasing. Always. Our greatest defense AND our greatest victory is sturdy, steadfast prayer. 'Tis no small thing when someone tells you they'll pray for you. In fact, that's the greatest help a person can give to another.

Paul had it right in Romans. Rejoice in hope, he said. When the chips are down - so to speak - and things are NOT quickly set to rights, cling to the glimmers of sweet hope that are gifted to you - even if you can't see the end of the struggle. In Paul's other letters he reminded us to be content in every situation. Sometimes it's difficult to find contentment when you're smack in the middle of a deep heart-ache. It was so difficult for Bob and Joe that Bob created a hope for both of them. At times, we have to look closely and carefully to find the thing called hope. Rejoice when it is afforded. It is precious.

I thank you, Holy Father for every hope we have in You.

 

Penny For Your Thoughts

Psalm 139:17 -- "How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God."

image: withart.visitphilly.com

Four blank, unblinking stares met us from across the living room floor as Steven and I stood in the kitchen, leaning on the counter - awaiting some kind of response to the unexpected news we'd just shared with our parents.

Um ... anything? Joy? Terror? .... no? Nothing?

Just crickets. I mean, literally - I could hear the crickets outside.

Well, I for one wasn't TOO surprised.

Two months into our marriage I started feeling a little strange. I almost knew right off the bat what it was - a woman can kind of tell these things. So, on a pit stop at the Kroger near my parents' home in South Carolina, I quickly picked up a pregnancy test - on kind of whim. The pink and white box was just sitting there - staring at me - in the checkout lane. [yes - it was actually on the thing I call the "impulse shelf" - right there next to the moving rubber belt and all the gum - in the checkout lane.]

Bingo. Pink line on the test strip. Baby Tyler was on his way.

I snuck in next to Steven and my little brother while they were doing something on the computer in the office. Making eye contact with my better - no, my BEST half - I nodded my head. I couldn't stop smile/tearing up. It's not that we were PLANNING on Tater right off the bat. But we weren't exactly NOT trying for him, either. To be honest - due some health stuff going on - I didn't think Tyler COULD happen at that point.

So the two of us made our way into the kitchen while our four parents were chilling out in the living room. When we asked for their attention and announced that they were going to be grandparents again - it became so quiet you could hear the proverbial pin drop.

Man - I sure wish we could tell what they were thinking right about then.

After a pause so pregnant that I was sure it was going to deliver twins [pun intended] they finally all kind of mumbled congratulations at the same time. Then there were the questions. Then there were congratulations again.

All in all - a really good memory. But what I wouldn't give to be privy to the things whirling around in all four brains during those long silent moments after the announcement. Tyler is 17 and I STILL don't know what our parents were pondering.

Sure - I can remember the words they spoke after the big reveal. But I can't help but wonder what it was they were actually thinking.

We are so very privileged as a people - that we have God's living Word available to us at any moment. I think back to the time of Paul and Peter and Moses and Noah - and often wonder HOW they managed day to day without the Bible as we have it - ever at the ready at our fingertips.

But there are moments when I want to know what God thinks. How weighty are His ponderings, to me.

Right now - in a world spinning ever faster out of control and away from God - what does God think about it all? About the politics? About the economy? About the Church? ... About the music to which we listen? About the things we do in our spare time? About the commercialism of the holiday season?

My Awesome Creator - fill me with Your Holy Spirit - that I may please you. How very weighty are your thoughts to me, O God. Create in me a pure heart and a clean spirit that I may make them happy ones. 

Made In The Shade

Psalm 62:5 -- "Yes, my soul, find rest in God; "

image: contidisanbonifacio.com

Letting the screen door slam behind me I stepped into the cool of the old yellow house. A high African sun outside made for a slow adjustment to the dimness of cool shadow in the kitchen where I stood frozen, as my eyes strained to refocus. Blinking several times, I almost melted into a sitting position onto the cool floor. There was no air conditioning, no ceiling fan - in fact, there was no electricity - but the contrast between the heat of high noon in South Africa and the shady escape into the tidy little house was down right heavenly.

It was rest. It was confort. It was renewal.

The top of my head would finally stop emanating heat like a miniature radiator and goose bumps would break out on my arms in the change of temperature. The sweat that had dripped from my hair to my face would evaporate and my sundress would dry out - cooling me down even more. AND I could finally take my rubber wellingtons off. Mom made us wear them when we were outside in order to protect our little tootsies from snakes - but I can tell you - those things did not breathe at all. The very first thing I did when I was called inside was kick them off and let my poor little feet get some air.

Outside was adventure: mud pies, honey bees swarming as they sought out new digs with more space, baboons raiding the clinic, and the big 'ole Tom/African bobcat that took swipes at my sister and me. But when we were called inside - it was like flipping a switch. It was quiet. It was cool. It was peaceful. We knew we could find rest there. We knew we could take a break when we walked through the door.

We have such busy lives, you and I. Especially now that we're in the throws of the holiday season and Thanksgiving is just a few short weeks away. Then there will be the crazy of Christmas and New Year ... it can easily make a person's head spin.

But - we CAN find quiet. We CAN find rest. God is ever faithful and ALWAYS our stronghold. Deuteronomy 33:27 says "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms."

Sturdy refuge in everlasting arms.

So -- yes, my soul. Find rest. Find rest in God - for all my hope is in Him.

Step through the door and into the comfort of God's eternal refuge and find rest. The crazy will still be there - right where you left it - when you've had a bit of a break in the arms of our wonderful God.

A Break In The Clouds

Isaiah 51:11 -- "So the ransomed of the Lord will return and come with joyful shouting to Zion, and everlasting joy will be on their heads. They will obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sadness will flee away."

image: dianaleghmatthews.com

The dust kicked up by his sandals slowly dissipated into the breeze until it could no longer be seen. A heaviness settled deep into his father's heart - it became nearly too much for one person to carry. As a long day closed on a heart-breaking chapter in one family's life, the darkness that followed seemed to have no end. It was easy to wonder if the sun would ever rise again.

It must have been amazingly difficult for the father of the prodigal son to let his baby boy walk out the front door. What if he never came home again? What if something were to happen to him while he was out there sewing his wild oats?

Several things occur to me as I read this story in the book of Luke [chapter 15:11-32]: Dad didn't argue and beg regarding the decision made by his youngest son - at least, we're not told that he did. Dad ALLOWED his son to make his own mistakes. He LET his boy walk away from the safety and comfort of family. AND - we never really see Dad's pain.  But we know it was there because of the rejoicing that came with the return of his child. I mean, THAT was the whole point of the tale - that something lost was found.

Even more than that - we aren't privy to the amount of gut-wrenching, heart throbbing pleading that just had to have come from Dad's lips every single time he prayed to God. There HAD to be some pretty intense meditation going on during all the days that Dad's youngest son was away.

But the BIGGEST thing that sticks out when I read this story? Life continued in spite of baby boy breaking Dad's heart and throwing the household into chaos. Dad didn't neglect his duties [that we know of] and he remained responsible to the daily running of his house and caring for his land/live stock. We know THIS because of what his oldest son says when baby boy comes home. Much work continued even in the middle of what must have felt like a crisis. We are never promised that long lost son WOULD come home. We only find that out at the end of the tale. And yet - Dad never once expresses anger at God. He doesn't question God's faithfulness, His goodness, His power, or His plan - even though there were probably many opportunities for him to do so.

In other words - Dad accepted his responsibilities and allowed baby boy to be responsible for his own actions.

That's a pretty tough thing for a parent to do -- LET GO. It's tough on so many levels. First, it's hard for us to remove the training wheels and allow our children to fall. Second, it's a tough thing to refrain from taking the blame when something goes wrong. We want to claim the pain when the child falls off the bike - even though we aren't the ones peddling.

The story of the prodigal son in the book of Luke has a happy ending. We see that Dad's sorrow is completely erased and that the sun did, indeed rise again on a beautiful and bright new day. The one things we DON'T see -- is how long Dad had to wait out the storm. We don't really know how many days turned into months or how many months turned into years. We DO see the passing of time.

We DO see joy granted to a family that experienced much grief.

And THAT my brothers and sisters - is the hope to which we must cling.

We are not promised that the race will be easy, pain free, or even fun. But we ARE promised there is a finish line. We ARE promised hope and encouragement along the way. How many times does Paul elude to staying the course? To remaining focussed on the goal ahead and NOT on how long and winding be the road?

Talk about tough. Sometimes I want to whine about the dust on the road - and the jagged gravel - and the incline that makes my leg muscles burn. I WANT to grumble about the pain and the unfairness of it all.

But THAT is not for what duty I am called. And it's NOT what prodigal Dad did.

No - we know beyond any doubt that our sorrow and sadness will flee away. We are promised joy. We are promised gladness. And we are promised it everlasting!

Thank you, thank you Dear Savior for your unbreakable Word. Thank you for my future joy.

Proximity Alert!

Ecclesiastes 12:1 -- "Honor and enjoy your Creator while you're still young, before the years take their toll and your vigor wanes, before your vision dims and the world blurs and the winter years keep you close to the fire." [MSG]

image: pinterest.com

Testing the shadows cast by my Bird of Paradise flowers I took in a deep, deep breath - the air was different. The sky was clear and the shadows cast by the sun were lighter and not very sharp. I could tell - just by the casting of sunlight - that fall was in the air. The seasons had somehow changed, already. It made me smile a bit.

In my head I could picture carved pumpkins, hay stacked in decorative bales with funny scarecrows sticking out of them, and leaves piled up on the ground under our oak tree. I could smell cinnamon, and pine bark when I closed my eyes - and I knew that the Christmas tree guy would be setting up down at the corner near the biscuit place, soon.

All of this - because our spinning little planet is pulling a little bit farther from the sun right about now. The days get shorter, the breeze is cooler, and daylight is soft. I love it! I love the "fall" weather down here in Florida.

Proximity is EVERYTHING. Our place in orbit is key to the changing seasons, the weather, and the hours of daylight we'll receive in a 24 hour period. And while I absolutely love snow and early fall cold snaps - it wouldn't do to get TOO far off course in orbit. We'd freeze to death. Vegetation would die. Vibrant species would become extinct when pieces of the food chain snap and disappear.

But this - relatively tiny variation in the length of our planetary orbit allows a natural ebb and flow to maintain a life and growth cycle on this great blue marble of ours. Some frost now and then and leaves turning brown allow us to appreciate the warmth and lush greenery of summer.

Proximity to THE Son is EVERYTHING, too. When we draw away from him or allow ourselves to be pulled in the wrong direction - things can die. Little bits of us can wither up and turn brown and if we stay too far away for too long - well, horrible things can happen.

Ecclesiastes reminds us to honor, enjoy, praise, and serve our Lord now - while we still can. We must put our faith to feet before our feet can no longer take us places. Don't miss out on the wonderful opportunities God has given you today - because they might not be around tomorrow. 

Sea Lily

Psalm 77:11-13 -- "I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all your works and consider all your mighty deeds. Your ways, O God, are holy. What god is so great as our God?"

image: Mt Everest - www.kentoncool.com

If ever there was living proof of a modern day miracle it has GOT to be Stephen Hawking. In 1963 his doctor told him that he'd contracted Motor Neurone Disease and that he would most likely only have two years left to live.

How many years have passed since Hawking was given that news? 52? And yet, from his own lips in his book, A Brief History of Time, came the words: "In that case, it would not be necessary to appeal to God to decide how the universe began. This doesn't prove that there is no God, only that God is not necessary."

Hawking reiterated this point when he said: So long as the universe had a beginning, we could suppose it had a creator. But if the universe is really completely self-contained, having no boundary or edge, it would have neither beginning nor end: it would simply be. What place, then, for a creator? [from the book:The Grand Design]

Why in the world are "we" spending so much time trying to prove that God isn't needed or that He doesn't exist? What possible good can come from that?

image: www.kentoncool.com

I tell you what - it was all I could do to keep myself from throwing something at the television as scientist after scientist spat out mathematical theorems and "reason" to exclude God from the amazing wonders that we call our Universe! [How The Universe Works on H2]

COME ON! What place, then, for a creator?! What place?!

Deep breath. Must NOT have stroke due to stupid people .... 

World record holder and all around COOL guy, Kenton Cool, has been to the summit of Mt. Everest successfully more than anybody else I know. From the top of the world, he's taken some pretty incredible pictures AND collected some pretty cool rocks for the geologists at Cambridge University - per the show, How The Earth Was Made. [also on H2] When back at "normal" sea level, Cool produced a rock that made international news. From a humble microscope planted on an ordinary lab table - there was projected an extraordinary image of a paper thin slice of rock. As interesting as this rock was - of even greater interest was a tiny fossil buried deep inside the compressed crystals, clumps of organic material, and lots of other stuff. 

The fossil? ...A sea lily.

image: Sea Lily [www.theepochtimes.com]

That's right - A SEA LILY. At the top of the world. Covered in snow. Surrounded by rock, frozen rivers, and big, big bright blue sky. In air so thin that no living thing can survive without the help of an oxygen tank and really warm clothing - there was discovered the ghost of a creature that lives on the floor of the ocean. 

Amazing! Simply amazing! And yet, nay sayers would use this evidence to exclude our most Amazing God - the creator of said sea creature, of giant mountain. of big, big bright blue sky. ...of Kenton Cool, even! How -- HOW can anyone look at that sliver of fossil and the vast majesty of the world's tallest mountain and NOT just - drop everything and praise God?

And furthermore .... 

In an explosion of excitement and some unique images of our celestial neighbor - came the news from NASA - that there is evidence of water on Mars!

image: www.nasa.org

Leapin' Lizards!! Water!! On MARS!! CHECK. IT. OUT!!!

...and people say that these amazing things are proof that "God is not necessary"?

How is lightning not jumping from the sky to strike these people on the head? If I were lightning - I would jolt a head or two on principal!

My fellow Earth creatures, fellow walking/breathing things that God hath, indeed created -- I, for one, will take today to be in complete and utter awe of my Creator. I will remember the deeds of my Lord. I will meditate on all of God's amazing and wonderful works! I will consider how very, very GREAT is God!

Thank you, Lord - for rainy mornings. For good hot coffee. For the cardinals at the bird feeders and the salt blowing in from the beaches.  For the stars that twinkle at us from beyond our planet and for the ability to look upon them with eyes wide open. For water on Mars. For rocks from Mt Everest. For good friends. For the church body and fellowship. For the freedom to sing Your Name and pray openly. For blooming flowers. For green tree frogs stuck to windows that allow eyes to witness throbbing little tummies moving with the beat of tiny hearts. For air conditioning on hot and humid days. 

Thank you, Creator - for the blood of Jesus Christ. For forgiveness. And for Your endless love that envelopes us - in spite of our numbing arrogance and the biting words of denial and betrayal. 

You, O God, are Great. Wonderful. Amazing.

And very, very necessary.

Pointillism

Acts 6:7 -- "So the Word of God spread. The number of disciples in Jerusalem increased rapidly, and a large number of priests became obedient to the faith."

image painted by Dan Sibley [coolhunting.com]

Intense heat and head-ache inducing sunshine beat down on the shoulders of the thousand or so people cutting stone into large blocks. Painstaking, the work was done by hand. The quarry was crawling with workers - each using a specific skill or asset to assemble the gigantic stone bricks that would make up the largest pyramid in Egypt.

The foreman for this shift of workers made his rounds - inspecting this, checking that, fussing at some and praising others - until he came to two young men silently cutting away at a large wall of yellow limestone. He hadn't seen these two before so he'd better play the part of good foreman and check on the productivity of his bright new charges.

"What are you doing?" The foreman asked one of the tall young adult men.

The first stone cutter replied: "I am cutting this stone into blocks." He continued to chisel at the limestone without missing a beat, never taking his eyes of the tools in his hands.

Making a few notes, the foreman moved on to the next young man and asked: "What are you doing?"

The second young stone cutter wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked the foreman directly in the eye as he said: "I am building a pyramid for the Pharaoh."

Indeed!

The second stone cutter recognized that he was doing something of great importance - even though he could only see the yellow limestone wall in front of him. Deep inside him somewhere - he could see the Pyramid complete....

Image: "A Sunday On La Grande" Jatte George-Pierre Seurat

One of my favorite styles of artistic expression sprung from the impressionism era in 1886.George-Pierre Seurat painted a piece entitled "Sunday In The Park" and voila! A new method of putting paint to canvas was born. When looking at this colorful image we see dogs at play, people sunning by the river, and lush green grass. What we DON'T see right away - is the millions of little dots that Seurat used to make up this relaxing little scene.

Incredible, no? Imagine a human dot-matrix printer...pretty intriguing, if you ask me. It certainly causes one to question the importance of the humble little dot.

Other painters soon followed Seurat's example and today you can find thousands upon thousands of art pieces masterfully created using pointillism. Some of them are quite amazing.

Me? I tend to outline, sketch, erase, outline some more, sketch some more ... and erase ... a whole lot. I can't begin to imagine being able to express an entire scene in full color using nothing but dots. Incredible! If you get the chance - look into one of these fabulous paintings. Focus on just one dot - then move back and take a gander at the whole masterpiece.

Wow. Just - wow!

In the book of Acts,we watch churches burst into full bloom from small and humble beginnings/seeds that were spread about the land by the twelve disciples of Jesus. [most notably Paul]. From twelve people who knew Jesus personally - came a "large number of priests obedient to the faith" and an increased number of disciples. Now THAT's what I call a big picture! An astounding number of hearts that beat to the tune of our Lord Jesus Christ can be found all over the globe! And it all started with twelve people. That's it - just twelve!

 It's wonderful!

But - what if Paul [or any of the disciples] focused only on being just one dot? What if he quit because he felt overwhelmed or intimidated with the scope of the task set out before him? After all, Paul WAS just one person and the world IS a pretty big place. What if Paul hadn't forced his eyes to see the beautiful bigger picture?

image: "Autumn" painted by JetIII circa 1983 [jetiiiart.com]

Think about Seurat's painting and what it might look like if an untold number of dots just suddenly fell off the canvas because they didn't think they mattered very much? Well now, that would be one weird and very incomplete piece of art, I'm here to tell you. An entire branch of artistic expressionism would vanish into thin air - in the time it takes you snap your fingers!

That would be tragic.

But LETHAL is the word I'd use if every follower of Jesus did the same thing.

Don't think you make a difference in an ocean of other dots all going about their own business? Not so, my friend. You - yes, YOU, little dot - have a greater impact than you realize.

Go shine dear, dot. Light up the darkness and salt the earth! You really ARE part of an amazing and life-changing whole. Train your focus on Jesus and the wonderful plans God has for you. One day - you WILL get to see THE big picture.

So go out there and be the best little dot you can be!!

...But God

Genesis 50:20b -- "But God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."

image: styleonmain.net [etsy.com]

The feeble mass of intertwining electric circuitry fired on all cylinders and my brain quickly registered the sting of what had just occurred - but my eyes just blinked - and blinked. I stared at my immediate supervisor sitting across from me with a smug look on her face.

Fired? But - I'd just moved into my own apartment with my 1 year old, ready to tackle single parenthood with a brave face. AND ... my parents had just moved out of state. I was only a few short days on the other side of an emergency surgery during which was removed a nasty little tumor with teeth and claws AND I'd just signed on a loan to purchase a couch.

Fired?!

With trembling hands I punched my time card for the last time at the quaint little community hospital and trudged out the door.

What in the world was I supposed to do, now?

I grabbed a newspaper at the corner grocery store on the way back home and immediately searched the job listings. [This was in the ancient days of no internet].

God is very good. He is now - and He was then. In no time flat I had a new job at a wonderful little facility close to down-town Nashville. It payed better and had a cozy work environment and I NEVER had to punch a time card. It was closer to my toddler's Granny so she was able to keep him while I was work, eliminating the need for costly day care - a WONDERFUL icing on the cake, so to speak. AND - get this - it had a full benefits package!

The thing is - when we are at the bottom of an old, dank well straining to look up in the hope of some form of daylight - we don't always recognize when a splendid opportunity is gifted to us - complete with wonderful packaging and a pretty bow. Instead - we see a box with contents that remain hidden. Something horrible might be inside and we hesitate to open it, nervous about the unknown.

But God can take our shed tears and bring about the most spectacular joy. Notice I didn't say He would take our tears away. We will undoubtedly face some pretty painful days in our life time. And some of those days may be a bit longer than we'd really like, but God's timing is always perfect. He's never late and never too early and ALWAYS, always on our side.

The next bump [or mountain] you face in the road may be a blessing in disguise. Cling to the promises of God. Look at Joseph! He was betrayed by his own brothers and left for dead. It had to be pretty dark in the bottom of that well.  ... who knew that one day the entire nation would look to him for survival and mercy?

Who knew? ... God did! And as He did in the life of Joseph - God can take our big 'ole bag of hot mess and turn it into something beautiful. No only CAN He - but He WILL!

Through The Fire

Isaiah 43:2 -- "When you pass through the waters, I will be with  you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you."


In the wee and early hours of darkness, WAY before the sun decides to grace us with light - I find myself throwing off the covers and tenderly putting my feet to the floor. While my toes pop and creek along with my ankles, I can't help but think of every single step I take toward the shower. Not because of the noises my bones make - but because I know that a friend of mine is counting each and every step she'll take through out the course of her day. She has no fascination with her own feet - but instead is counting the accomplishment that comes from simply putting one foot in front of the other. Inside her trembling heart is an ache so deep that I personally cannot imagine the pain of going through it.

How is it the world doesn't stop spinning for just a brief moment to allow us to catch our breath during moments that zap us of our stength? Why does the world NOT request an international holiday? Can't we just get a moment ... to cry? To pray? To ... breathe?

Knowing that no slow moment will come to her and that she MUST get up and go to work - my friend counts the victory in each step. And I will count with her.

In Isaiah we are reminded that into every life a little rain must fall. Sometimes it's a gentle spring shower that encourages brilliant blooms to burst into a life full of color. But then there are times when we're hit with a hurricaine sporting gale-force winds, hail, and huge ocean waves that knock us off our feet. Isaiah didn't say IF we pass through the waters - he said WHEN. And then he said of our Lord - that God will be with us. We will not be consumed by the raging storm that swirls about and buffets us from side to side. We will not be overcome. We will NOT drown.

So there IS great hope in the victory of each step we can accomplish in the arms of our Lord. We know that no strom will last forever and that we will be shaped to the glory of God in the winds. Each step we take with Him is not a small victory worhty of a pat on the back - but instead, a HUGE reason to celebrate!

We are God's. He is with us. All the time.
 

Testing

Since my computer is no longer functioning and it will be some time until I can get the guys to come out and fix it - I thought I'd try to blog from the X-Box 1. So far so good. The boys hooked a keyboard up to the console and I can type using it.

So -- starting tomorrow morning - Breaking Daily will be back up and running. I have no idea how to search and post pictures into the blog from the X-Box console - so bear with me as I figure it all out.

I appreciate your patience.

From Grief to Grace

Romans 20:5 -- "But where sin increased, grace increased all the more."

image: Kelly Babb Dalton

The breaks screamed against the forward momentum of my red '91 Pontiac Sunbird and finally brought the vehicle to a complete stop on the side of the road. Hands shaking and knees wobbling, I slowly crossed the blacktop and timidly approached the grass that grew on the easement of Oakwood Circle. Tears had already begun to poor down the sides of my face and I didn't care that my make-up had been ruined for Sunday morning services at First Baptist Dickson, Tennessee.

In fact, the only thing about which I could bring myself to care was the tiny twitching body of the squirrel that ran under the front of my car as I rounded the last corner. I wanted desperately to pick him up and rush him to the vet. My heart was broken.

When the little animal drew in his last little breath I sunk down into the grass and sobbed - all the while whispering to the poor creature that I was so, so sorry.

I can't even begin to imagine the agony one must feel when the accidental collision involves a human being instead of a little scruffy tree rat.

But the late Mark Hatfield could.

While driving his mother's car at the tender age of 17 Mark accidentally hit Alice Marie Lane when she tried to cross the street. And while Mark was cleared of all criminal charges against him, he was later taken to civil court by Lane's family. No amount of money, however, could ever ease the horrible heart-break for both families suffering from this awful event. Even if the Lane family completely forgave him, Mark would carry that terrible tragedy with him for the rest of his life.

The story could have ended there - if not for grace.

In 1957 Mark Hatfield was elected Oregon's 16th Secretary of State. He would later become the state's 29th Governor - the office from which he would serve in both the legislative and executive branches of Oregon state government. In 1967 Mark began his career as United States Senator becoming the longest serving senator from the state of Oregon - and - in 1968 he was the Republican candidate for Vice President.

Quite the outstanding resume, if you ask me -- and an extraordinary example of grace after grief.

Think of all the things that might not have come to fruition for the state of Oregon [and our country] had Mark disappeared into the shadows of history after his fatal encounter with Alice Marie Lane?

How do you pick yourself up and dust yourself off after something like that?

After any life altering mistake/tragedy?

Well, the truth is YOU don't. GOD does.

Romans 20 verse 5 tells us that where sin abounds - grace abounds all the more. But you and I have to accept that grace. We can't allow sin or grief or anger to take control of us. Sometimes, it is in the wake of real tragedy that God can become strongest in our lives. Because - sometimes it is only in the moments when we find ourselves unable to walk - or even breath on our own - that we discover how truly amazing and unending is the strength and love of our Lord.

When we fully cling to the grace of God - complete healing and real growth can occur.  ... IF we let it!

That might mean we have to forgive someone - even when faced with the death of a loved one. But -then again - that might mean that we need to forgive ourselves and move on.

What Gives?

Galatians 5:13 -- You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love."

image: baudville.com

Picking up the thin paper shader tool that came with my sketch pencils I blurred lines, created shadows, and put a little dimension into the adult human hand clasped tightly by a baby's little round fingers. The black and white image was definitely starting to show some promise. I smiled to myself as I thought of the cousin for whom this was going to be a gift. I had yet to meet her new addition to our Saunders clan - but I couldn't wait to lay eyes on her new baby.

Signing the bottom right hand corner with my customary ksd, I was interrupted by one of our cats, Djibouti, as she pounced up onto the desk to "help" me with the finishing touches. Oh, she's quite the little "helper", that one. She helps me write the blog, she helps me fold the laundry, she helps me brush my teeth .... I've become accustomed to her frequent interruptions. Usually all it takes is a little "corporal hugging" and she's off and on her way - leaving me to finish my task undisturbed while I pick some of her long, silky hair off of my lips.

When little miss prissy pants jumped back down to the floor, however, I was left with a big, juicy red smear from one corner of my sketch to the other - and a very recently deceased tree frog.

Ick!

Now, I know this is an expression of love from a cat - and I suppose I appreciated the sentiments of the gift - but I was rather unhappy that a couple hours worth of work had just been flushed down the proverbial toilet.

...and, I kinda felt bad for the poor frog.

Ya know - nearly every species of living thing on this planet has a way of gift-giving. It's a wonderful thing, really. Cats, for example - gift their kills to their human companions. An extraordinary thing when you think about it, because the animal is willingly giving up a something that might mean the difference between life and starving to death. Some birds present colorful little bits and bobbles to their mates when they are nesting to show their eagerness and ability to provide for spouse and future family. Dogs? Well, every wonderful lick of the tongue or wag of the tail is really a great gift, isn't it? And - even some bugs indulge in ceremonies that indicate intent - and what could only be interpreted as desire.

In the gift department - the act of giving itself doesn't set us apart from much of nature. What DOES set us apart, though? -- a human being will give even when he/she is struggling personally. Most creatures in nature will not be generous if they are not doing well for themselves. A cat will really only gift a kill if it's well fed and doesn't have to rely on the carcass for food.

You and I, though - WE give - even when we are hurting.

I know a woman that provided home-cooked meals for a friend that had been dealing with some serious health issues - even though she'd just experienced the death of a parent. I have a wonderful friend that will go out of her way to give me words of encouragement - even though she's going through a heartache in her own family. And I know countless individuals who will give of their time - even though it's a precious and rare thing for them to have any of it to themselves.

Jesus? -- now HE really gave, didn't he? He gave his own life for all of us - even though it meant being physically separated from his Father. And - along with the excruciating pain of being crucified, Jesus had to deal with the agony of betrayal by those that were supposed to be his friends! Not to mention the fact that his own people [NOT the Romans] were the ones ensuring that the death penalty was swiftly executed.

THAT's harsh, my friends.

With the gift of Jesus' life in exchange for our own - we were given freedom. We have the freedom to be apart from sin and the freedom to one day meet Jesus and our very Creator face to face!

THAT is a beautiful, beautiful gift! AND - it's the one gift we've been given that is perfectly acceptable - nay, ENCOURAGED - to re-gift! In fact, it grows as we continue to share this gift with others.

So what shall we do with this extraordinary gift that we've been given? Do we use it?  ...like full diplomatic immunity?

No. That is - we SHOULDN'T. Instead we should take this amazing and truly beautiful, freely given gift - and freely gift others.

As a nation given the most freedom of any group of people on earth we get all excited and revved up when it comes to sharing freedom with other countries. As individuals freely saved by Jesus - we should do the same thing.

Freely give. 

A Little Anthropology

Hebrews 10:24 -- "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds."

image: izquotes.com

A few butterflies let loose in my stomach when the school bell rang as excitement churned its way through my system. One of the advantages of being a Senior at Faith Academy was that most of the typical mandatory academic classes were already under my belt, and I was aloud to choose some less mundane courses to wrap up my grade-school career. The class coming up was one of my favorites - Anthropology.

One might think that what was considered to be a college level class would be a little intimidating to a high school student - but in fact, I made some of the highest grades I've ever received in that class. I couldn't get enough of it. There is just no end to the fascination I feel when studying human behavior and the vast number of intriguing cultures.

In the mid to late 1950's one of the most famous of anthropologists, Margaret Mead, was approached by one of her students with this question: What do you consider to be the first sign of civilization in any culture? Her answer surprised many - she said: A human femur that has been broken and then healed.

Really? I would be looking for simple tools, pottery, perhaps art work or toiletries. But no, Margaret Mead said she felt it was the human thigh bone.

Why on earth would she think that?

Margaret went on to explain that in the animal kingdom - if you break your leg, you die. It's that simple. A healed human femur indicates that the injury was cared for and looked after for a lengthy amount of time. This meant that the person with the broken leg had a community. He/she had friends or family that were willing to slow down long enough to care for the sick. That meant keeping the injured person immobile, setting the broken bone well enough that it could heal, and then making sure the invalid had food, shelter, and warmth. To Margaret's way of thinking - helping someone else through difficulty is where civilization starts.

THAT makes sense!

Hebrews 10:24 asks us to consider HOW we can spur each other on. Does that mean we should ask ourselves what we can do to help our injured or sick? Does it mean encouraging a friend who's hit a rough spot in his/her life? Does it mean doing all we can to encourage growth and strength in our fellow human being?

I think it means all of those things. AND - I think that whatever we can do to instill healing and growth in another - no matter how small our action might seem - has a far reaching impact. Like Margaret Mead's healed broken femur findings ... you can tell a lot about a person/culture by its community spirit.

What will future anthropologists find about our civilization/culture? Do we spur one another on toward love and good deeds? Do we love? Do we heal? Do we help?

I hope that there is evidence of these things in me -- it would mean that my actions reflect the love and grace of Jesus Christ. What better thing could be said of any culture?

The Fallen

Psalm 34:18 -- "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

image: corbisimages.com

The tread on the old bike tires gripped the sidewalk that framed our house as I pumped my little legs as fast as they would go. In sheer excitement and with a grin from ear to ear, I prepared to round the corner behind the back porch. Only a couple of days ago I was unable to ride without Dad's hand on the back of my seat. But on this day - I was a pro! Can you believe it?!

Just as I turned the handlebars to the right and edged myself carefully around the dip in the walk-way - my front tire hit a large gravel rock. In the blink of an eye, the bike slid out from underneath me and I found myself somehow hitting the concrete - right knee first. The air went out of me in a big whoosh and the tears started to cascade.

I was more angry than hurt. Things had been going so well! Life was good! ...until that stupid rock appeared from out of nowhere and messed up my balance. [stupid, stupid rock!]

Getting up off the ground I noticed the blood trickle down my knee and I started to really steam about the situation. I picked the bike up and searched it for scratches [well, any new ones] and walked it around to the front of the house where Dad stood waiting for me.

"What happened to you?" He asked, looking down at my knee.

"Satan made me fall down when I hit a rock". I said vehemently - the anger pouring out of every syllable.

Dad took the bike and parked it up against the front porch, then picked me up and placed me on the large stone banister. "No honey, Satan didn't make you fall. Sometimes bad things just happen and there isn't anyone or anything to blame for them."

Wait ... what? How could that be?

Dad gently cleaned up my knee and put a bandage on it - all the while explaining how things aren't perfect for man anymore because of free will and sin. It was tough news to receive - to be sure - but Dad softly and tenderly doctored both my knee and my crushed spirit. He let me sit on his lap while he rocked me back and forth a bit - giving me comfort and encouragement. And then - he did something that surprised me. He told me to go back out front, pick up my bike, and do one more lap around the house.

But I didn't want to do another lap. I didn't care if I ever got back on the bike.

"Nope..." Dad said, gently but firmly "you can't give up on yourself - let's go do one more lap and then you can come in for a snack."

He followed me out the door and back to the front porch where my bike lay leaning against the banister. He then helped get on and gave me a little push to get me going.

Of course - after I realized I could make the rounds without falling again I put in more that just one lap and recovered the joy I thought I'd lost in riding. Something Daddy knew would happen - hence his instruction for me to get out there and try again.

Let's face it - our lives are not perfect. Sometimes things can be going along at a pretty good clip when from out of nowhere, we're hit with a rock in our path and we're sent skittering off track. We've no choice but to stop and deal with the fall. We experience pain. We experience sadness. Sometimes the hurt feels so deep that we can't imagine a moment in our lives when we won't be acutely aware of the loss. We just can't picture the sun popping out from behind dark clouds - ever again.

It feels safer to stay inside - curled up with a soft blanket pulled up over our heads - away from people and more pain.

Sometimes - we don't want to get back on the bike.

I love Psalm 34:18 for this - because we see that the Lord draws near to those who are hurting. Like my Dad did all those years ago - our Father comforts. He doesn't have to. I mean, He's up in Heaven where there is no pain, no falling, no anger, and no sadness. He could just stay there -- but Psalm very clearly says that He draws near to us. And think about this: God - more than anyOne - knows how dark real pain can truly get, yet He chooses to draw near to us when we experience it.

That's pretty amazing!

AND - He doesn't just stop there. The verse also says that the Lord saves those who are crushed in spirit. He doesn't end His focus on us after the bandage and ointment have been applied - He stays close and grants encouragement. Much like my Dad getting me to go back out there and bike one more lap - our Father guides us back out on the pathway. He won't let us get away with giving up. There are things He has planned for us and He knows that when He's by our side, and we let Him lead - we'll recover the joy in life that He's meant for us to have.

What greater love and grace is there?

Father, God - thank you so much for loving me so very deeply that you draw near to me when I am at my worst. Thank you for encouraging me to get back on the bike and for saving me when my spirit is crushed. 

Through The Bars

Ephesians 4:1 -- "As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received."

image: barbsfitublog.wordpress.com

Stacked up in great piles were shiney shades of bright red, green, yellow, and any combination of the three reflecting the neon ceiling lights in a brilliant rainbow. The colors in the produce section of my local Publix never cease to amaze me. And the sheer number of apples stacked in precarious pyramids astounds. Just look at them all the next time you're in there!

And don't even get me started on the citrus fruits! I had no idea there were so many different species of oranges! ... ...

... ... Squinting into the bright morning, Daddy and I dodged Davao traffic to reach the tiny little closet of a space nestled amid a whole row of tiny little closet-sized store fronts. It was a special occasion - it was my birthday. Every year on this day, Daddy took me to the quaint little grocery mart just so the sweet store owner could hand Daddy a brown paper bag.

Not just ANY brown paper bag. A very special one - that I could only open once we were back in the car. I couldn't wait to be seated in the powder blue Range Rover so I could indulge in my birthday treat. The excitement of it was almost too much to bear!

Inside that little bag was a big shiny red apple and a glorious, sweating can of American Coca-cola! Two things that could not be found by normal means on the streets of Davao City, Philippines. But somehow [we won't ask how] every year on my birthday the kind little store owner managed to find these two things just for me. He never did it for Mom or Dad or Karla - for some magical and wonderful reason - it was only for MY birthday.

The two seemingly mundane things in that crinkled brown bag were extra precious to me. The apple was always somehow the best apple I'd ever tasted and the Coke had to have been produced from an extraordinary and magical batch of Coca-cola and then hidden away in some fairy-tale hillside.

... ... As the Publix bagger placed my case of regular Coca-cola on the side of my grocery cart to walk me to the car - it occurred to me how very much I take for granted now that I'm all grown up and back in the States. I couldn't help but think about that special brown paper bag and the feel of my Dad's hand firmly and safely wrapped around mine as we dodged jeepney's and mopeds on crowded streets. Every birthday was a grand occasion and every single apple was a cherished treat.

As Paul sat in jail writing his letter to the church in Ephesus he expressed the honor he felt that he could pen his Savior's name from the grimy prison floor. In those moments he wasn't feeling sorry for himself or pacing the floor, frustrated with the hold-up in his ministry. [I would] He was very humbly and very simply grateful that he still had air enough in his lungs to share the gospel of Jesus Christ. He didn't complain. [How could he NOT complain?!]

image: "Paul's Cell" Pilgrimthomas/TravelPod/ www.tripadvisor.com

For that reason - his words to us are even more precious. His attitude is even more astounding when you consider from whence his words were being shared. He encouraged his brothers in Ephesus not from a grand pulpit or a solid cobbled town square - but from a rat and flea infested cubby-hole surrounded by the stench of human filth. His sentiments were special - like the apple and the coke gifted to me on my birthday in the Philippines.

Paul's message is beautiful.

So when Paul encourages us to live a life worthy of the calling we have received - I think not that I should behave as a prince dressed in the royal robes befitting an adopted heir of Heaven's mansions - but instead, I think of humility. I think of gratitude and true appreciation. I think of the so very many things with which I have been blessed and continuously take for granted.

Like big fat red apples and a case of Coke.

Like air conditioned church buildings with padded seats - like street lights and posted speed limits signs - like quicky-marts and self-serve gas stations ... like Keureg Coffee makers and individual packets of artificial sweetener - like insulin pens and the abundance of soft-bristled tooth brushes.

Like the grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ.

I get to blog about the love or our Savior from my beat-up office chair in the comfort of my own home on a computer hooked up to the internet. I get to daily read the Word of God from more than one translation sitting on my bookshelf. And if I have a prayer request - I have but to post it on the social media of my choice or pick up my smart phone and dial up a friend.

How richly blessed are we? ... How very richly blessed?

Suddenly being content in the calling of my Savior takes on a whole new meaning - and I am reminded of simple, abounding and unending JOY.

Light Up The Shadows

Psalm 119:93 -- "I will never forget your precepts, for by them you have revived me."

image: New Line Cinema

When the music rode its crescendo as Gandolf peaked the crest of the hill outside Helm's Deep - piercing the darkness with his wizard's staff - goosebumps broke out on my arms. It took every effort to remain seated in the theater and refrain from jumping up and shouting "yes!!"

Reinforcements had arrived, at last! The Fellowship of the Ring was in great peril and had staved off the ever-advancing forces of the evil Orc army so far - but they were quickly over-run. They were out of time it seemed, and the darkness felt to be pushing in from all sides. Where was hope?

...and then it came - as Gandolf brought reinforcements with the rising sun - blazing into glory as the battle for Helm's Deep took on new life and the tables were turned on the brutish Orcs! There was hope, indeed! There was light, and darkness fell silent as courage and "humanity" lit up the shadows of doom and despair.

Whew! - good triumphed over evil and the tense muscles in my shoulders could relax as I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

Ever feel like the warriors at Helm's Deep? .... like, darkness is closing in all around you and you have no way out? Where is the rainbow after the storm?, you ask. Where is the silver lining on all the gray, gray clouds?

I'll be one of the very first people to admit that things seem pretty dark, right now. I'm not just talking politics and economy, either. I'm talking about the general state of the human race. Humanity just seems to be so very self-absorbed lately. I avoid the news for the most part - because I know there isn't going to be anything good on there. I don't read the paper for the same reason. It's just so -- depressing.

And then - there is a little boy by the name of Drew Wood.

Having been dealt the devastating blow of leukemia as just a little fella this mini super hero has been in intensive care for what feels like forever - fighting an additional medical enemy - one that is yet to be clearly defined. Amid the stormy waters of his little ocean it would seem that his life-boat has sprung a leak. It just felt like the fowl weather had the upper hand - that the shadows became too great and too long to really overcome.

But in this darkness - God has not changed. He is still The Great Physician. He is still All Mighty. And yes, He is still in the miracle business. We cannot forget God's Living Word - His true HOPE, His great mercy! We must not forget that God hears every single prayer we utter in the name of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

As we prayer warriors rally around Drew and are richly blessed by God's power and amazing, amazing grace - we are given the joy of all kinds of light shining out from one tiny hospital room. We see the light of parents that remain obedient to God in the face of terror and heart-ache. We see Christian brothers and sisters unite in fervent prayer. We see kindness in the faces of health care providers and gentleness in friends and neighbors. We see an outstanding courage in a tiny little body and a heart that emanates the unending love of Jesus Christ.

praying for Drew

It occurs to me - Drew is so very much more than a leukemia patient. His family and his ordeal have become a shining testament to the grace and glory of God!

Take THAT, darkness!

Over the hill, just beyond the horizon is a brilliant and blazing sunrise!!

When we face darkness - we mustn't forget God's Word - His promises, His precepts, His hope - hasn't changed. They are the same as they ever were. We need to allow them to revive us. In God lies our reinforcements, our light in the midst of shadows.


For information/udates on Super Drew Wood's battle and prayer requests pertaining thereto - you can go to First Baptist Church of Orange Park, FL at www.opfirst.org

Mulligan!!

Jeremiah 18:3-4 -- "3 Then I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was, making something on the wheel. 4 But the vessel that he was making of clay was spoiled in the hand of the potter; so he remade it into another vessel, as it pleased the potter to make."

Photo © 2013 Jay Graham - jaygraham.com

Inside my favorite pair of tennis shoes I could hear my toes squeak as my very wet socks rubbed between the souls of my feet and the bottom of my sneakers. Twinkles of early morning sunlight blinked through the branches of the trees that bordered the golf-course and I could see the copious amount of tiny water droplets clinging to the crisply shorn grass on the green.

Dad Dalton and Steven kept crunching through the dew-laden blades as I struggled to act like I knew what I was doing - lugging my clubs clumsily on my shoulder and trying to keep up with their long easy strides.

It was sweet of them to let me tag along. For starters, I'd never played a round of golf  in my life and I KNOW I was slowing them down. Further more - it was clearly meant to be a Father/Son outing, and yet there I was, trudging along like a kid sibling that didn't want to be left out.

Lining up the put just as Dad Dalton taught me, I aimed for the ridiculously small hole in the middle of a large, lush green space and held my breath. Tense with anticipation, I watched the hole after I made my swing. Chuckles came from the Dalton gang to my right. I looked down near my feet to see that I'd completely missed the ball. It lay there, still and quiet, mocking my efforts...

I looked up at two of the men I admired most in my life and sheepishly called out "mulligan!" - then lined up my put for the second time and finally made contact with the golf ball.

You can guess how it played out. Six strokes later I finally picked up the evil little white ball and physically put it into the cup - begging the two smiling Daltons to just put a three by my niche on the score card. [I learned they weren't even keeping my score.]

Sigh - I wanted to mulligan my entire "game" - it was so very, very marred. For the first time in my existence I totally understood the meaning of the mulligan/do over.

It would be nice if life were that easy to remedy. Just -- ball up the whole thing/experience that went awry and do it over again. No pain. No frustration....as simple as Jeremiah's potter reshaping the clay into something of which he would be proud.

But it really isn't simple. It takes effort, dedication, and a great deal of skill to shape clay into art. Even more so when the clay has already partially been formed. Reshaping, chiseling, molding -- and intimate care has to be taken to turn a "mistake" into a "masterpiece". And more often than not - it's the clay at fault - NOT the potter. Something a little off in the mix, perhaps?

image: wordpress.com

....or in our case - a little stubbornness? We are the clay and our Father is the Potter, after all - when we try to form ourselves or push against the Potter's will - disaster results.

It's a good thing The Potter can reshape and ultimately grant us each a mulligan. [sometimes, more than one!] He can take a thing that we've messed up beyond recognition - and turn it into something worthy of a place in the ultimate of all galleries - in the company of Jesus, our Savior and THE Father, Himself!

In fact - we've been granted the ultimate mulligan. We've been given the chance to be completely re-born!! We don't have to walk around in the muck and mire of our original sin-laden package! We can allow Jesus to REform us!

THAT is a beautiful thing!!

Thank you, thank you, God!!

Dear Lord, take this mess of a "game" I've created and make it into something full of your beauty and grace!