winter

"In your anger do not sin. Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold."  (Ephesians 4:26-27)

Where we live we boast we're having a dose of winter if the temperature drops down into the fifties, which it did last week. Within a few days we will no doubt be back with our tropical warm winter weather. But recently, I felt as if it were winter in my heart, big time.

I didn't realize I was harboring resentment. You could not have gotten me to admit I was even a smidgeon angry. However....I began to notice thoughts, and critical remarks on the tip of my tongue, that were less than kind. How subtle these destructive things are. How casually anger and unforgiveness can seep out, like water in a pot that is on a low heat and then boils over.

Fortunately something happened to jar me into reality. I began examining what was going on inside, heart and head. I’d learned about owning and taking responsibility for anger, for making a decision regarding forgiveness of others as well as self, and how critical that is in a spiritual faith walk.

So, even though I didn't really feel like it at the time, I made the decision to forgive; also that I would put a watch on what I said. Before long I began to notice a difference. The sting of anger was missing; there was a change in my attitude. A difference in the way I was seeing things, and then, naturally, in my speech. Spring had sprung, no longer was it winter in my heart.

It’s good to know we are not out on a limb by ourselves trying to do something that’s impossible, such as an attitude adjustment. When we make a decision in line with God’s word the Holy Spirit is more than willing to help us. That’s good news.

-sally kennedy

paco

There's a Spanish story of a father and son who had become estranged. The son ran away, and the father set off to find him. He searched for months to no avail. Finally, in a last desperate effort to find him, the father put an ad in a Madrid newspaper. The ad read: "Dear Paco, meet me in front of this newspaper office at noon on Saturday. All is forgiven. I love you. Your Father."

 

On Saturday, 800 men named Paco showed up, looking for forgiveness and love from their fathers!

"If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should be lost."  (Matthew 18:12-13)

...back

If you have children, or you are around young children, then you'll recognize this:  Two toddlers are sitting on the floor playing. Suzie is playing with her blocks, and Davey is trying to decide what to play with. Suzie tells Davey, "Davey, you can play with ANY of my toys. I'm playing with the blocks, but you can use ANYTHING that you want"

So Davey takes her up on it. He picks up her toy telephone, and begins calling his little sister. He's having a great time... such a great time that Suzie suddenly wants to play with the telephone, so she reaches out and grabs the phone. Davey, of course, is upset, and tells her that HE was playing with the phone because she told him that he could use anything that he wanted to. Her response is, "I know that I gave it to you, but I want it back to play with it myself".

Do we ever do the same thing with God?  He tells us (in one of my favorite verses)  to "cast your cares upon the Lord, for He cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)   But how often do we really cast them to Him, and allow Him to keep them?  Do we take them back to "play with them ourselves for a while?"

I don't know about you, but I'm really good at giving God the burdens of my heart, but taking them back from Him and worrying with them for a bit, and then giving them back to Him. I'm good at SAYING that I'm giving God my cares and worries, but I don't seem to truly let them go. Sound familiar?

Worried about your family? Concerned with your finances? Got a health problem keeping you up late? Problems with your relationship with your spouse? Your Boss getting on your nerves?

Philippians 4:6-9 says "Don't be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, do; and the God of peace will be with you."

There it is, my friends - in simple English - by prayer, and in faith, give your concerns to God. Then, again by prayer and in faith, allow Him to KEEP them, and watch as His will is done with your requests. Remember that sometimes He says wait, and sometimes He also says no. The peace that is promised will come as you allow Him to move in your life, and as you align your life with His will.

Want God to help you carry the load? Then give Him your concerns, and DON'T TAKE THEM BACK!

Steve Blair

trials

There was a blacksmith who gave his heart to God. Though conscientious in his living, still he was not prospering materially. In fact, it seems that from the time of his conversion, more trouble, affliction and loss were sustained than ever before. Everything seemed to be going wrong.

One day, a friend who was not a Christian stopped at the blacksmith's shop to talk to him. Sympathizing with him in some of his trials, the friend said. "It seems strange to me that so much affliction should come to you just at the time when you have become an earnest Christian. Of course, I don't want to weaken your faith in God or anything like that. But here you are, with God's help and guidance, and yet things seem to be getting steadily worse. I can't help wondering why it is."

The blacksmith did not answer immediately, but finally, he said, "You see here the raw iron which I have to make into horse's shoes. You know what I do with it? I take a piece and heat it in the fire until it is red, almost white with the heat. Then I hammer it unmercifully, to shape it as I know it should be shaped. Then I plunge it into a pail of cold water to temper it. Then I heat it again and hammer it some more. And this I do until it is finished."

"But sometimes I find a piece of iron that won't stand up under this treatment. The heat and the hammering and the cold water are too much for it. I don't know why it fails in the process, but I know it will never make a good horse's shoe." He pointed to a heap of scrap iron that was near the door of his shop. "When I get a piece that cannot take the shape and temper, I throw it out on the scrap heap. It will never be good for anything.

He went on, "I know that God has been holding me in the fires of affliction and I have felt His hammer upon me. But I don't mind, if only He can bring me to what I should be. And so, in all these hard things my prayer is simply this: Try me in any way you wish, Lord, only don't throw me on the scrap heap."

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." (James 1:2-4)

...now

“I will trust and not be afraid” - Isaiah 12:2

Two-year-old Max was securely buckled in his seat in Grandpa's pickup truck. He was waiting for Dad and Grandpa to stop talking so he could go for a ride. His mother poked her head in the truck and said, "Where are you going, Max?"

"Not know," he replied, raising his little arms.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.    "Not know," came the answer again.

"Well," she asked, "do you want to come back in the house with me?"

"No!" came the quick reply as he settled himself more firmly, waiting to begin his adventure.

"That little boy taught me a lesson I needed right then," his mother Sheryl told me later. She was soon to give birth to another baby, and she had reason to be unsure of what was ahead. "He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he trusted Grandpa completely. Max's confidence in Grandpa is the kind of trust I need in my heavenly Father."

If you are in one of those periods of life when you don't know what lies ahead, or you don't know what to do about some critical issue, it might help to think about it that way. God wants you to have the confidence in Him to say, like the prophet Isaiah, "I will trust and not be afraid" (12:2).

-timothy williams

see

 

"Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins." (1 Peter 4:8)

Here's a test. You've heard of tongue-twisters … well here's an eye-twister (which may be difficult for those whose primary language isn't English). See if you can read the following:

"Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a total mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deosn't raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?"

(Now I know why I am such a poor proof reader - especially of my own writing.)

The mind does a similar thing in other areas of life. That is, we see things not the way they are, but the way we are. For instance, if I am a negative person, I will see negative things in what others do - things that may not even be there - and be critical about them. If I am a supersensitive person, I will read into what others say or do and overreact - not on the basis of what they have said or done, but on the basis of who and what I am. On the other hand, if I am a loving person, I will overlook the petty faults in others and be accepting and forgiving of them, for love does "cover a multitude of sins."

Indeed, what we see is who we are or who we are is what we will see.

...left!

On November 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage for a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City.   If you have ever been to a Perlman Concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, very deliberately, and slowly, is an event. He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.

By now, the audience is used to the ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes his clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap -  it went off like a gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. 

People who were there that night thought to themselves: "We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and amble his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one."

But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before. Of course anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that. You could see him modulating, changing, recomposing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before.

When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.

He smiled, wiped the sweat from his brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows?

Perhaps that is the way of life - not just for artists, but for all of us. Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings. So he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.

So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthenth me." (Philippians 4:13)

nails

There  once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father  gave him a bag of nails and  told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the  fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence.

Over the next few  weeks, as he learned to control his anger,  the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled  down. He discovered it was  easier to hold his temper than to drive  those nails into the fence.  Finally the day  came when the boy didn't lose  his temper at all. He told his father about  it and the father suggested that the boy  now pull out one nail for each day that he was  able to hold his temper.

The  days passed and the young boy was finally able  to tell his father that all the nails were  gone. The father took his son by the hand  and led him to the fence. He said, "You have  done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the  same. When you say things in anger, they  leave a scar just like this one. You can  put a knife in a man and draw it out. It  won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry,  the wound is still there. " A verbal wound  is as bad as a physical one.

"All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and sea creatures are being tamed and have been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.  With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be."  (james 3:7-10)

"Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!" (Psalm 141:3)

"If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless." (James 1:26)

hair

Knoxville Airport - waiting to board the plane: I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing.  I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord.  I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you.  You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise.  Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego... 

I tried to keep from staring but he was such a strange sight.  Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier.  His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones.  The strangest part of him was his hair and nails.  Stringy grey hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long. Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man. 

I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting.  Then, I remembered reading somewhere that he was dead.  So this man in the airport... an impersonator maybe?  Was a camera on us somewhere?.... 

There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.  All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.  Let's admit it.  Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.  I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall.  I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen.  And it may be embarrassing.

I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. "Oh no, God please no."  I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man.  Not right here and now.  Please. 'I'll do anything.  Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"... 

There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man.  Not now.  I'll do it on the plane." Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him.   I want you to brush his hair." 

The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top.  Do I witness to the man or brush his hair?  No brainer.  I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl!  You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life.  What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him.  I am going to witness to this man." 

Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word,  God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him.  I want you to go brush his hair."  I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hirbrush.  It's in my suitcase on the plane, How am I suppose to brush his hair without a hairbrush?" 

God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly finish you unto all good works." (2 Tim 3:7)  I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"

He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?"   "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that.  At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?" 

At which point every eye in the place darted right at me.  I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks.  Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." 

Are you kidding?  Of course I didn't want to.  But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then.  He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem.  I don't have a hairbrush." 

"I have one in my bag," he responded.  I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair.  It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls.  Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.

A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everyone else in the room disappeared.  There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me.  I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.  I know this sounds so strange but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life.  I believe with all my heart, I - for that few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God.  That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while.  The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's. 

His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's.  I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him.  I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?" 

He said, "Yes, I do."   Well, that figures. 

He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride."   "She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior."  He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me.  I was sitting here thinking to myself. What a mess I must be for my bride." 

Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance.  This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known.  It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane.  I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft. 

I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks.  She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that?  What made you do that?"  

I said, "Do you know Jesus?   He can be the bossiest thing!"   And we got to share.  I learned something about God that day.  He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge.  He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected.  He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation.  Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual.  Tell Him your need! 

I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way... all because I didn't want people to think I was strange.  God didn't send me to that old man.  He sent that old man to me. 

John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."

sponges

There are 5 sponges laying on your kitchen counter top. Each member of your family has been cleaning up different areas of your home, but all the sponges look the same. You are curious as to what was cleaned in your home, but you can't tell by looking... they all look the same... so what do you do?

 

You squeeze each sponge to see what comes out. As you squeeze the first sponge, you see that cola comes out, and so you decide that someone cleaned the kitchen with that one.

 

Upon squeezing the second sponge, you find tub and tile cleaner - that one was used to clean the bathroom.

 

Next, in the third sponge, you find motor oil - hubby was cleaning the garage!

 

In the fourth sponge, baby powder puffs out when it is squeezed - yep, the baby's nursery was done with that one!

 

And finally, in the last one, is floor wax - that was the one you used on the hall floor!

 

As you lay the last one down, you look again at their similarity.  They all look the same until they're squeezed. Christians are the same way. As life squeezes us, different things come out - remorse from one; a need for revenge from another; tears from one; anger from yet another; greed is squeezed out of one and untruth from another; and finally, from one saint, pours forth the love of Christ.

Just like the sponge, we can only squeeze out what is put in.  Stay in the Word daily, and be in continuous prayer, so that when life puts the squeeze on you (and it WILL), Jesus, and Jesus ALONE will shine forth from you!

-sandy blair

 

...anyway

The fear of rejection may be one of the most basic fears of the human experience. Dr. Joe Harding tells a heart-warming story of a man who finally decided to ask his boss for a raise in salary. It was Friday. He told his wife that morning what he was about to do.

All day the man felt nervous and apprehensive. Late in the afternoon he summoned the courage to approach his employer. To his delight, the boss agreed to a raise. The man arrived home to a beautiful table set with their best china. Candles were lighted. His wife had prepared a festive meal.  Immediately he figured that someone from the office had tipped her off!

Finding his wife in the kitchen, he told her the good news. They embraced and kissed, then sat down to a wonderful meal. Next to his plate the man found a beautiful lettered note. It read: "Congratulations, darling! I knew you'd get the raise! These things will tell you how much I love you."

While on his way to the kitchen to get dessert he noticed that a second card had fallen from her pocket. Picking it off the floor, he read: "Don't worry about not getting the raise! You deserve it anyway! These things will tell you how much I love you."

Total acceptance! Total love. Her love for him was not contingent upon his success at work. In fact, just the opposite. If he were to fail there, if he were to be rejected by his boss, he'd be all the more accepted at home. She stood behind him no matter what; softening the blows, healing the wounds, believing in him, loving him. We can be rejected by almost anyone if we're loved by one. That's the way families can be with each other.

That's the way God is with us, too!   "We love Him because He first loved us." 

? leads

George Young was a carpenter. He and his wife were dedicated to following the Lord wherever He led. "He does the leading," they often said, "and we do the following." God led the Young's to the rural Midwest, and they traveled from church to church in revival efforts. Their finances were always tight, but "through the many years, we never went hungry!" as Mrs. Young said years later.  "Oh, sometimes we didn't have too much of this world's goods, but... we always had so much of Jesus."

 

Finally they saved enough to buy a small piece of land on which George built a cottage. Though humble, it was the fulfillment of a life's dream, and when they moved in they dedicated the house to God and sang the Doxology. But some time later, when the Young's were away on a ministry trip, a thug who had been offended by George's preaching set the house on fire. Returning home, the Young's found a heap of ashes. All their worldly goods and cherished possessions were gone.

 

As George gazed at the ruins, he recounted the precious possessions fire could never destroy - his family, his relationship with Christ, his ministry, his eternal home. There and then, the words of a hymn began forming in his mind. Within a few days, he had written all three stanzas of the great hymn "God Leads His Dear Children Along." The chorus says...

 

   Some thro' the waters, some thro' the flood

   Some thro' the fire, but all thro' the blood.

   Some thro' great sorrow, but God gives a song

   In the night season and all the day long.

 

Years later, music publisher Dr. Harold Lillenas decided to track down George's widow. Driving to the small Kansas town where she resided, he stopped for directions and was alarmed to hear that Mrs. Young was living in the rundown county poorhouse. Lillenas was deeply troubled that the widow of the author of such a powerful hymn about God's guidance should spend her final days in the poorhouse.

 

Mrs. Young only smiled and said, "One day God allowed my sweet husband to sleep in death. Oh, how I missed him, for we had always served the Lord together. In my heart I wondered, where will God lead me now? Dr. Lillenas, God led me here! I'm so glad He did, for you know, about every month someone comes into this place to spend the rest of their days, and Dr. Lillenas, so many of them don't know my Jesus. I'm having the time of my life introducing them to Jesus! Dr. Lillenas, isn't it wonderful how God leads?"

-david jeremiah

? changes

God never changes who He is. He is always consistent. He is not fickle. He was not a different God in the Old Testament or to your grandparents. He is and always has been the same God.

        He is holy  - He keeps His promises

        He is righteous - He always does what’s right

        He is good - He loves us and is always working in us, for us and through us.

These things never change.

- david edwards