I have spent so many hours watching the Olympics this past week. I have let my reading and writing slip to the periphery.
Then I read my friend, Evelyn Mann’s article about an incident that happened with her son. Read it here: Miracle Man
If you have children, work with children, or live near children take time to consider Evelyn’s suggestions for ways to bridge the wonderment and answer the questions.
Samuel is an amazing child. Catch his joy!
I get the munchies sitting at my desk. I’ve been trying to eat better. I was debating between baby carrots and banana chips this morning. Banana chips won.
I reached into the cupboard looking for the opening bag, but I couldn’t find it. So I threw this bag in my lunch bag and headed out the door.
Later when the munchies hit, I pulled out the bag. I kept trying to rip off the top. Isn’t that the way most of these bags open?
Where was the tab? I didn’t want to ruin the zip closure. I like zip closures.
Why wouldn’t it it open?
I was about to grab my scissors when I realized: I already opened the bag. The pull tab couldn’t be found because it wasn’t there.
I opened the bag and poured out some chips to snack on–all the while laughing at myself.
The bag didn’t open the way I expected. I’m used to tearing off the top–so something must be wrong with the bag.
The answer was staring me in the face, but I couldn’t see it.
How many times do I respond the same with God?
Truth be told? Way more than I care to admit.
The verse that came to mind as I contemplated not trusting in my expectations was Proverbs 3:5-6
If I want to get things right, surrendering my way of thinking, expecting, and understanding is the way to go. His path not mine.
PRAYER: God, I get so used things being certain ways. I’m comfortable with the familiar. Turning loose of what I know and understand is not easy, but it makes the most sense in the long run. Direct my paths and help me to be more “open” to the unexpected. Amen.
This year I’m focusing on finding God in the ordinary stuff of life. Each day I will take a picture of something common and consider the spiritual implications.
Here we go…
I get an email on Monday morning telling me the battery on my Fit Bit Charge is low.
I like that it comes on Monday. I’m in the office and it’s not hard to plug my Charge in while I’m sitting and working at my desk.
So while it charges, I sit at my desk. I commit to an hour of sitting still. Not because I’m being spiritual, or even attempting to be productive in other ways.
I just don’t want to take any steps that aren’t going to be counted.
There. I said it. I own my superficiality. I need the external verification. I’m working hard at this weight loss, get healthy thing and I want everything I do to count, to matter.
At one point this morning, I was about to leave my office and I sat back down and checked how much time was left in the charging process. Not much longer.
What would I do with that time?
Time? Make the most of time.
“Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.” Colossians 5:4
“Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days.” Ephesians 5:16
How interesting that my Fit Bit can help me decrease physically and increase spiritually.
PRAYER: God as you help me develop habits to improve my health, make me aware of developing my spiritual muscles as well. Help me make the most of time and opportunities. I don’t want to sit around wasting time. Keep filling my ordinary life with your presence. Amen.
Tomorrow morning I will be starting a series of messages on the Lord’s Prayer. When you pray “our Father” what are you saying, believing, doing?
The first thing I notice is the corporate nature of the prayer. We aren’t in this world alone.
When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray, he could have given them a theological dissertation based on familiar principles. But he didn’t. Instead he gave them the essential components of prayer.
And he starts with our Father—not simply Father. There are definitely times to get alone with God, but when the group came to Jesus, and the group asked to be taught how to pray, Jesus addressed their corporate need to pray.
I encountered a situation recently that drove this point home for me.
How many times when a friend or acquaintance shares a need, have you told them you would pray for them? You are sincere in your intention to pray, but life gets in the way and that opportunity for intercession is lost.
I don’t get many people coming to my door these days. So I was a bit surprised when the dogs began barking in their “oh boy, there’s someone at the door” way. With the reluctance that comes from dreading the annoyance of one more salesman, I went to the door.
The woman at my door was quick to assure me she was not there to sell me anything. She gave me her name, told me she was from the women’s abuse shelter. She added that their group had the permission of the Sheriff and Chief of Police to be going door to door.
I apologized for not inviting her in, but my dogs are big and overly friendly. She seemed okay having the door between us. I introduced myself as the pastor of a local church that makes a point of regularly supporting the shelter.
We chatted and she was about to leave my door. This would be that moment when we say those words that roll off our tongues almost without thought: I’ll be praying for you.
But I couldn’t say them. Because I knew, with a knowing that comes from the Spirit, I needed to say, “Can I pray with you now?”
So I did. And her eyes got big. She put her hand on the screen and I put mine up to hers and we had a wonderfully blessed moment of connected prayer.
And then she was gone. But she will stay with me. Her name and face come to mind often and I pray, like Paul, as often as I remember her.
Now, I’m not telling you that story because I’m anything special. I’m telling you to encourage you to not miss those kinds of moments, those kinds of blessings—that kind of power.
The question that needs our response seems to be: how will we be open to the opportunities of corporate and connected prayer?
How can I pray with you today?
Yesterday we celebrated Homecoming Sunday. It was well-planned and well-attended. The music was such a blessing. If there had been a prize for widest age span at church we probably could have won. The youngest child there was seven months and the oldest person was one hundred and three (103). Our attendance was twice our normal average, from thirty to over sixty!
God laid on my heart the story Jesus told about the prodigal brothers and how their selfish ways caused them grief.
We often throw a lot of focus on the wayward wandering brother, but if the other brother’s behavior hadn’t mattered, Jesus wouldn’t have included him in the story. Each one made choices, each one put their desires first.
In the Bible there are so many stories about the consequences of choices made by individuals and groups of people. Think about Thomas, question one time and forever be remembered as the doubter. Or Mary and Martha, get frustrated when you get stuck in the kitchen, but don’t ever complain about it. And the list goes on and on.
Whether we’ve wandered and made a mess of things like the younger brother or stayed home with our heart tightly shut, it’s time to come home.
These twenty-one verses have been described as the most perfect short story ever written in literature.
It is a good story. But it doesn’t have to be over.
Yours doesn’t have to be either.
Write a different ending.
And even if the road home looks impossibly long. Remember the father went out to both of his sons. And he promises to be with you every step of the way as well.
I’m an ESFP with ADD. I like things to move along at a pretty swift pace. I don’t like glitches in my plans. I am not a fan of detours. I loathe meetings that drag on unnecessarily.
In the terminology of Sue Monk Kidd, I’m a textbook “Quickaholic.”
I recently purchased Ms. Kidd’s book When the Heart Waits from our local library book sale. When I read a non-fiction book, I am an underliner and write-in-the-margins kind of reader. I’m only about twenty pages in and I think I’m going to need a new pen.
The author describes a time of retreat at an Abby. She took a walk and saw a monk sitting very still under a tree, the picture of tranquility. She approached him later and asked how he could sit there and do nothing. Here was his response: “Well, there’s the problem right there…You’ve bought into the cultural myth that when you’re waiting you’re doing nothing…When you’re waiting, you’re not doing nothing. You’re allowing your soul to grow up. If you can’t be still and wait, you can’t become what God created you to be.” (When the Heart Waits, page 22)
I couldn’t read any further. For one, my eyes were full of tears. It was one of those revelatory moments that hits you simultaneously in your gut and brain, taking your breath away.
I get it God.
Those five years I spent out on the farm, caring for a woman who never spoke my name, who never wanted me there, were your plan. It was no different than when you planted your people in a hostile foreign land and told them to put down roots–literally plant and make babies. In that same chapter (Jeremiah 29) you assured them that even though it made no sense, you had a plan.
No sooner had I regained my composure but my cell phone chimed, notifying me of an incoming email. It was from a writer friend. A friend who has been through a painful ministry journey of his own. A friend I contacted recently about a book I thought we could write together. A book about calling, healing, and hope. He wants to do it, is excited about it.
But you knew that God.
When I thought you were doing nothing, that I was doing nothing, you were weaving your plan together.
And none of it happened quickly.
You are never in a hurry.
Loving and long-suffering God, continue to heal me of my tendency to short-cut and short-circuit your plans. Thank you. Keep teaching me and using me. Amen.
Last week we considered what it means to add goodness to our faith. This week’s “add” is knowledge.
One of the things I’ve learned in my study of the Word, is order is not an accident. Peter doesn’t instruct his readers to add knowledge before they add goodness.
The Apostle Paul warns the Corinthians: We know that we all possess knowledge…but knowledge puffs up. (1 Corinthians 8:1)
Knowledge is desirable, but alone: it’s dangerous!!
Without goodness knowledge is often wielded to humiliate, intimidate, or alienate others, not for what God intended it to be: a tool to build and bless and serve others.
Goodness renders knowledge beneficial rather than impressive.
Peter also is clear that we are are to add knowledge, not opinion. We have to know the truth, and be sure truth is what we’re standing on and for.
As I was thinking about how knowledge can puff up and the importance of truth over opinion, I began thinking about my marriage. After 36 years my husband and I know the pain that comes from acting like we “know it all.” We have learned the value of a heartfelt apology and staying open to learning.
I love when I can learn something new about my husband. It keeps our relationship fresh and growing.
God wants us to have that same attitude in our relationship with him. We can never learn it all, but we can commit our entire lives to trying.
What are you doing to add knowledge to your faith?
(Thanks to Mark Buchannon and his book “Hidden in Plain Sight” for these concepts about knowledge.)
11 Teach me your ways, O Lord,
that I may live according to your truth!
Grant me purity of heart,
so that I may honor you.
12 With all my heart I will praise you, O Lord my God.
I will give glory to your name forever,
13 for your love for me is very great.
You have rescued me from the depths of death. (Psalm 86:11-13)
I love finding something cool and unexpected when I’m looking for something else.
The scripture I quoted above is one of my favorites…and an often prayed prayer. I know the disastrous consequences of a divided heart.
So in my search I came across the pic above. I didn’t get it at first. I never was very good with fractions. (Picture me laughing at myself here.)
Heart divided by nothing.
I love it. I would almost tattoo that one! (Don’t tell my daughters.) Why? Because that is the prayer of my heart.
And the really good news is found in Ezekiel 19:11: And I will give them singleness of heart (aka: undivided) and put a new spirit within them. I will take away their stony, stubborn heart and give them a tender, responsive heart. (NLT)
And with a heart like that, we can live ever, only, all for Him.
35 Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, He got up, went out, and made His way to a deserted place. And He was praying there. 36 Simon and his companions went searching for Him. 37 They found Him and said, “Everyone’s looking for You!” (Mark 1:35-37)
Wouldn’t it be something if we could say that today? “Everybody’s looking for you, Jesus!”
They’re not. And let’s be honest…most days we’re not, either. But that is what this 40 day journey can do for us.
But where do we start?
Maybe we could start like Jesus did. Where was Jesus when they finally tracked him down?
The crowd hadn’t learned Jesus’ habit of early morning prayer. EMP. But Simon knew. He knew where to look to find Jesus.
I know not everyone is an early riser. I’m thankful I’m wired that way. But whether you have an internal early alarm clock or not, starting your day with prayer–however brief or rote or mechanaical–needs to become as natural as checking the gas gauge before you take off in the car.
It can be as simple as, “You and me, Jesus…let’s do this” to as flowery as the best bishop can speak. Just take a moment or two. Become aware of his presence and desire to be with you in every aspect of this day.
Not everybody was looking for Jesus then. They’re not now. I know I am. Will you? He’s the one out there praying.
PRAYER: Ahhhh, here you are Jesus. Thank you for showing us the best way to start our day. Thank you for demonstrating the importance, the wisdom, the joy, of starting our day connected not only to the Creator of this day, but the Guide, and the Helper. I don’t know what today holds, but I know I don’t want to face any of it without a clear sense of your presence. Let’s do this thing…together. Amen.
Pot of Manna 