Indholdsfortegnelse for July/August 2019 i Mornings with Jesus

DO WORRIES EVER get the best of you? I would like to say that never happens to me, but inevitably anxiety crowds in. I close my eyes to pray in the morning, hoping for some blissful release, and the worries make their chattering racket heard. Like the birds outside. No surprise then that Jesus mentioned birds when it comes to worries. “Look at the birds of the air,” Jesus said, “they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them” (Matthew 6:26). Or when it comes to fretting about having enough to wear: “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow,” He said, “they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one…

I TRAVELED FOR MUCH OF June. Efficient for travel connections, but hard on my “there’s no place like home” heart. I missed strawberry season and making homemade freezer jam. When I arrived home, several small bouquets of lily of the valley and other massive bouquets of lilacs graced our table. But I had missed the major part of their short blooming seasons. What I didn’t miss was Jesus. All the travel was related to speaking for Him, about Him, or to Him. In the Bible, one of the individuals with whom Jesus had a heartfelt conversation was a rich young man. His inquiries probed deep, but his motivation was self-serving, and Jesus knew it. “Which commandments do I really need to keep to enter heaven someday?” the young man asked.…

LIVING IN FLORIDA, WE HAVE many major theme parks nearby. My ten-year-old son is a big fan of big roller coasters. The steeper the drop, the faster the ride, the tighter the curves, the loopier the loops, the more unpredictable the path, the better. I’m not a big fan, but wanting to be a good sport, I’m game to be my son’s sidekick. I’ve learned to ride on an empty stomach and when we board, I always double-check that safety bar. It’s much more fun when I feel confident that we’re safe. My former pastor used to say, “Life is a roller coaster, and God is the bar.” Yes! It seems the more closely I walk with Jesus, the more I surrender to His unfolding plan. I experience a more…

TAP WATER IS UNFIT FOR consumption in many countries. When I travel overseas, I either run tap water through a portable filter I pack or buy bottled water. We can run into serious problems when clean drinking water isn’t readily available. I experienced this while riding a bus during a heat wave in Eastern Europe. Assuming I could buy water at stops along the way, I’d packed only one small bottle. Imagine my chagrin when I discovered that the bus’s air-conditioning was broken and its windows stuck shut. The vehicle’s interior heated like an oven. Sweat trickled down my face, my chest, and my back. In order to avoid dehydration, I drank my water more quickly than I’d anticipated. As I recall, the bus stopped a couple of times so…

OUR SON, DAUGHTER-IN-LAW, TWO GRANDCHILDREN, and their dog all moved in with us this week. We’re thrilled to have this “close-up” time with them for a year while our son finishes his studies at a local seminary. In our daily interactions, I’ve noticed what diligent parents they are. They are concerned with childproofing the house, with setting up crib sensors and monitors, with using nonchemical cleaners, with providing organic food. They have also studied various approaches to parenting and are incredibly patient with the children. All of this reflects that their children are precious pearls. This morning, as I read about the pearl of great value, I thought about what it would look like if I viewed the Kingdom of Heaven as precious and valuable in a similar way. Would…

I’VE EXPERIENCED SOME HEART-STIRRING MOMENTS through the years while on vacation. Many times, I didn’t want to leave. To me those getaway spots represented Jesus’s peaceful presence in amazing ways. Couldn’t we stay a little longer? But whether it was Jesus’s nudging or another warning, the reminder always came. “It’s time to move on.” Translation: You’ve stayed at this mountain long enough. In Deuteronomy, Moses rehearsed the Israelites’ forty-year journey in the wilderness. Only a year into their encampment, he reminded them of God’s command to move forward. In the Horeb district of Mt. Sinai, an area rich with divine presence and power, God had given them the Ten Commandments. But they had “stayed at this mountain long enough.” It was time to move forward and live free. The children…

MY HUSBAND AND I WERE hiking on a beautiful summer day after a heavy rainfall. On our way down the mountain, I mused aloud that I would need a walking stick to navigate through the thick mud, and I wandered off the trail to find one. A few moments later, my husband presented me with a stick. It wasn’t as sturdy as the one I was working to free of its dead branches, but it was such a kind gesture, and I wanted to accept it. What’s more, he had had a tough week at work and I knew it was good for him to be helpful and feel appreciated. The stick was helpful, until we got to a particularly steep section where the mud was deep. The stick sank…

THE OTHER DAY I TEXTED a friend who was not feeling well. Using Jehovah Rapha (Healer), one of the names for Jesus/God, I told her I would pray that He would make her well. Unfortunately I typed the name wrong. Usually my iPhone’s automatic spell-checker offers possible correct spellings. But this time, the words No Replacement appeared. So I retyped the name with the correct spelling and completed my message. Later, I thought about that incident. Throughout the Bible, people consistently misunderstood the names and meaning of the one true God. In fact, they invented titles for their own gods. When God sent His Son to the earth, Jesus spoke of His Father often. Jesus taught that there was unity between His Father’s name and His own, but people misinterpreted…

I WOKE UP IN THE middle of the night. My arm was under my pillow, and the weight of my head had squashed it and turned my arm into a numb lump. I touched it with my other fingers and even used my other hand to move it around. The arm felt nothing. Once I repositioned it so blood could flow into it, uncomfortable prickles started. Life returned. The limb that had fallen asleep worked again. We were numb and dead in our sin until Jesus brought us back to life. But the call to “arise from the dead” isn’t only for the time we enter heaven. In a world that turns away from Jesus at every opportunity, it’s easy for our hearts to become as lifeless as my squashed…

OLD FAITHFUL, THE FIRST GEYSER to get a name in Yellowstone National Park, is called a “highly predictable geothermal feature” in that “since 2000 it has erupted every forty-four to one hundred and twenty-five minutes.” As scientists have gotten smarter, and instruments of measurement more accurate, you can now go there with your family and see at the visitor center a calculated prediction of when it is expected to erupt. You can get an ice-cream cone, take a seat, get your camera ready, and plan on yelling, “Thar she blows!” to embarrass your teenagers with precision. Because now, there’s only a ten-minute margin of error as to when Old Faithful will shoot boiling water out of the ground. It’s like clockwork. A ten-minute margin of error is pretty good for…

MY MARRIAGE HAD BEEN ON life support for several years before I decided to pull the plug. The early years were good—lots of hope and dreams. The latter years were not—full of treachery and heartbreak. And although I had a relationship with Jesus, I had no peace in the marriage. I prayed, I fasted, I cried, and I waited to hear from God. Then God literally sent an angel who counseled me and comforted me. I made an appointment to see a lawyer. Although Jesus gave me peace about my decision, it was still the most heartbreaking decision I’d ever made. After almost four years of tough litigation, the final judgment arrived in the mail: we were officially uncoupled. I felt relieved and remorseful. This wasn’t the way Christian marriages…

TEMPERATURES CONTINUED TO RISE AS I raced to complete a series of errands. I sighed, stepping into the car. Two more stops and I could head home. As I turned the key in the ignition, a light shone on the dashboard, accompanied by incessant ringing. The needle on the temperature gauge flipped over to red, telling me the engine had overheated. My day was crazy busy as it was, and I didn’t have a minute to spare. Calling for a tow would eat up at least an hour. Fighting panic, I called my husband David’s cell. No answer. I tried again with the same result. I was on my own. Panicky, I lowered the window and stared at my hands, open and empty in my lap—empty, but not useless. I…

IN FEWER THAN FOUR WEEKS, I will officially be a middle school teacher. I accepted a position as a lit and writing teacher at my boys’ school. This makes me laugh that high, hysterical hyena laughter of nervousness. I haven’t faced a life change this big since having kids. I have been scribbling ideas for books and projects. Reading young adult lit. Poring over lesson plans. Reading teaching books. And I have been meeting with my former fifth grade teacher who has been a mentor and teacher for the last twenty years. She is the best teacher ever! I loved her when I was ten. I love her more now. She is setting my feet firmly on the path of teacher wisdom with thoughts like: Be firm. Explain everything. Set…

AN UNUSUAL AUGUST RAINSTORM HAD pushed through our area, causing power outages overnight. The next morning calm returned, along with cooler temperatures. I moved to the back patio, coffee and Bible in hand, to enjoy the change of weather. I relished my time alone with Jesus. A few days later, another cool morning arrived, so I headed out again to my beloved spot, opened my Bible, and smiled at the words from Deuteronomy 32. Preparing for his death, Moses took time to instruct the assembly of Israelites, making sure they understood what God expected of them in the coming days. He devoted an entire chapter to a song that he recited to them. One of the things Moses emphasized was the importance of God’s teaching, using a metaphor of rain.…

I WOKE FROM A DREAM with a heavy heart. I’d been dreaming about a young woman dear to me and my family. In the dream, she was bombarded by lies and untruths. They pelted her like hail. I wanted to place myself between her and the hailstorm but couldn’t. Or could I? I didn’t need sleep as much as I needed peace. So I prayed for the young woman, asking Jesus to protect her from every thought that wasn’t from Him, to steer her thinking, to woo her away from lies. The dream may have been a product of my imagination. But the time I spent in prayer wasn’t wasted. Within days, I heard she’d been wrestling with her faith. We know Jesus slept, but do we know what filled…

WE TOOK OUR KIDS ON an epic adventure this summer, from Arkansas to the West Coast, exploring as much of the country as we could before heading on up to the giant coastal redwoods of California. Every little town up there has its own “drive-through tree” where people literally drive their cars through a giant redwood. We stopped at one of these tourist traps and stood in the man-made space. What kind of living thing sustains that much damage and keeps on standing? We camped somewhere off the grid, near the Avenue of the Giants. When the sun came up, we felt like the first humans in a prehistoric world. The ferns were as tall as we were. And the trees—such trees—could only be called majestic. We walked around under…

MY FRIEND ELICIA HAS A favorite Hebrew song, and it was sung at her son’s bar mitzvah. The lyrics are “The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the most important thing is not to be afraid.” The Hebrew word for narrow, tzar, is also the word for trouble, adversity, and distress. In Psalm 107, when the refrain says, “They cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress,” this “distress” that makes people cry out to the Lord is tzar. So, if the “narrow bridge” of life is a distressing ordeal we all must cross, how can we not be afraid? Life is anxiety-provoking. So much of what our culture offers us is meant to numb that anxiety—food, entertainment, consumerism. But this is…

IT’S SAD HOW EASILY A simple question on social media can ignite a firestorm of argument. Most everyone seems ready to present their opinions as the only plausible one, regardless of whether they have the correct facts or any experience with the issue. Often, the discussion quickly veers from the original topic down some rabbit trail. And sadly, the comments sometimes contain such hostility and offensive language that the person who started the whole thing feels the need to unfriend some commenters. As followers of Christ, we’re expected to be ready at any moment to respond to a question or comment about our faith. Not for the purpose of showing off our knowledge or making another person look like a fool. Our goal is to help others understand that Jesus…

MY HUSBAND, MY FRIEND JOYCE, and I recently attended a special exhibit at our local museum. As we entered the first room and started looking at the relics and art, we heard a man speaking with authority from the side of the room. We made our way closer and listened in as he spoke to a small group. He talked about being part of the team that made the discoveries during an archaeological dig, about the selection of items for the exhibit, and about the history it all represented. One of the docents nearby told us that the speaker was the curator for the whole exhibit and was taking an elite group of patrons on a tour. We took our time studying the items in the first room, and when…

A FRIEND AND I WERE talking through our ongoing struggle with balancing family life, personal ambition, calling, and the need to help provide for our families’ needs and a few wants. I have worked from home for more than a decade since my first son was born. Like most other work-at-home moms I know, I’ve struggled with feast-or-famine income, feelings of isolation versus the freedom to be an integral part of my kids’ daily lives and to manage the household. Listening to my fresh round of laments about the financial and professional sacrifices I’d made by forgoing a nine-to-five job, my friend asked, “Well, what would make you happy?” I had a clear answer. “What would make me happy is to not feel the need to ask myself what would…

MY ELDEST DAUGHTER LIVES IN eastern Washington State, and we make the five-hour drive to visit her a couple of times each year. The scenery changes dramatically when we cross the mountains east of Seattle. Forest greenery and lakes behind us, we enter a parched landscape complete with tumbleweeds. It resembles a scene from an old Western movie with one exception—fruit orchards. The region’s heat and soil provide ideal conditions for growing apples, peaches, apricots, and grapes. But success also depends on irrigation. Without that moisture, the orchards would shrivel and die. Every time we travel this road, I marvel at the contrast between the fruit-producing irrigated land and the brown, scorched hills. It reminds me of my relationship with Jesus. Apart from Him, my life would resemble those sunbaked…

THREE YEARS AGO, MY HUSBAND, David, and I erected a backyard arbor, planting an heirloom climbing rose on either side—one deep red, the other golden yellow. We hoped they’d look stunning as they met and mingled atop the antiqued metal framework. We watered, prayed, and waited. By the next summer, slender branches twined almost to the top. Last year, the plants met and began mixing just as we’d imagined, though the red rose seemed smaller, with fewer blooms. Returning from a vacation, we found the arbor awash in roses. It was glorious—except for one thing. We counted only five red buds near the frame’s base. Every other part sported yellow flowers. We focused on the red climber, almost obliterated by the other bush. It was just as beautiful as the…

I FELT LIKE A SALMON swimming upstream as I pushed my cart through the aisles of Walmart. My plans to dash in and out to pick up a one-hour photo, a prescription, and a few groceries faded. I had forgotten about the usual rush the day before a national holiday. An hour later, when I finally reached the checkout line, I asked the woman behind me if she was buying things for her Fourth of July celebration. She pointed to her cart. “Yes, but I only came to buy hot dogs.” We both commented about the long lines, but as we casually talked, we came to an agreement that the day wasn’t about the food or fireworks; it was about our freedom. On the Fourth of July, we do celebrate…

THANKS TO MY DIGITAL SOFTWARE, I have many different Bible translations at my disposal. Sometimes I gain new insight into a Scripture by reading it in different versions. But not always. Last week, I researched an Old Testament verse and grew more confused with each translation I compared. Not only had the translators used different words; some gave the line a positive connotation, while others translated it in a negative way. Not so with Hebrews 13:8. The only difference between the ten translations I typically compare is whether they include two uses of and, or two commas and one and. How appropriate for such a clear declaration of our Lord’s unchanging nature. In an ever-changing world, we can always count on what matters most. His holiness and sovereignty. His love…

ONE OF MY FAVORITE TV shows is The Honeymooners. The iconic lead character, Ralph Kramden, would say, “I’ve got a big mouth!” whenever he talked too much and got into trouble. It was a hilarious form of self-correcting on the show. But I can relate in real life those times I’ve said things I didn’t think through. Many of us have been in Ralph’s shoes. David prayed for wisdom to keep his mouth shut, even “put a muzzle on my mouth” (Psalm 39:1 NIV)—smart man! It’s only human to say things out of anger, frustration, sadness, or even fear. We’ve all done it. The Word of God says that no man can tame the tongue and calls it “an unruly evil” (James 3:8). But we are still responsible for what…

MY HUSBAND, DAVID, AND I love picnicking. Yesterday, we piled our basket and cooler into the car and headed for a beautiful spot we’d discovered, about an hour’s drive from home. When we arrived there, everything seemed perfect. Almost everything. We moved from table to table but couldn’t escape someone’s loud music. Bass notes vibrated in my head, making it hard to appreciate our surroundings. Then a groundskeeper arrived. That would have been fine, but he kept his vehicle running as he worked. David and I exchanged glances. There was nothing we could do. We’d driven so far, and the food was already on our plates. We thanked Jesus for our food. Then David whispered, “Lord, if it’s your will, please quiet all this so we can eat in peace.”…

I LIVE ON THE FORTY-FIFTH parallel, which means my town is located halfway between the equator and the North Pole. Because of this, summer days last longer than if we were farther south. During the hottest months, dawn occurs between 4:30 and 5:00 a.m. Since I sometimes have trouble sleeping, I’m often awake before the first hint of light brightens the sky. I savor this time. It sets the course for the rest of my hours. This morning, I prayed while surrounded by the semidarkness. The busyness of life hadn’t intruded into my thoughts yet, and I spent quiet minutes with Jesus. Without distractions, I was able to bring Him my hopes and concerns and was better able to sense His will for the hours ahead. Just past my window,…

ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL sights in Yellowstone is the Grand Prismatic Spring. It’s the largest hot spring in the United States and the third largest in the world. Ferdinand Hayden, who led the first official expedition to the spring, said of it, “Nothing ever conceived by human art could equal the peculiar vividness and delicacy of color of these remarkable prismatic springs. Life becomes a privilege and a blessing after one has seen and thoroughly felt [them].” To me, it looks like the giant wild eyeball of a unicorn or some other mythological creature. The deep blue middle fades into every color of the rainbow as it radiates away. Standing at the edge, you feel like you’d enter a magical world if you could jump into the spring for…

WE STAYED AT AN AMAZING rental house over the summer with my family. The house was on top of a hill overlooking a deep blue reservoir surrounded by windswept, brush-covered mountains. Over the hills, out to the west, was the vast Pacific Ocean. And to the east was the Anza-Borrego Desert. One afternoon during our stay, a storm broke out over the house with the deep rumble of thunder, and the skies darkened with purple clouds. It was majestic. In the suburbs where I live, which are surrounded by strip malls and congested with traffic, I often forget about the amazing world that Jesus has created around us. But out in the mountains, surrounded by desert beauty, I can’t ignore it. I find myself telling the Maker of heaven and…

LAST NIGHT, I DREAMED ABOUT a close friend I knew as a teenager, someone I haven’t seen for decades. For many years, we lost touch with each other, but both of us kept searching. At last, we made contact through social media. I had my dear companion back! We live thousands of miles apart. The chances of us meeting again are very low, but we both daydream about it. Yet if I have to wait until heaven for one of her hugs, I can. It’ll be worth it. For now, I’m happy with our steady interactions, both online and during phone conversations. I occasionally attended church as a child, but didn’t give my life to Jesus until my twenties. After I made that commitment, I could see how much His…

EARLIER THIS YEAR, OUR PASTOR made a statement that nagged at my mind: “The greatest need we have as a church is to see our need.” I couldn’t help wondering how that applied to me as an individual. How well do I see and understand my own needs? If you had asked me a couple of months ago what I needed, I would have ticked off a list: I need to lose weight and get fit, land a new book contract, get painting and repairs done on our house, work on our landscaping . . . and more. But if I’m being honest, I have to admit that while these represent reasonable goals, they are not truly needs. The Bible promises that God will meet all our needs through Jesus.…

THE RULES FOR THE DOLPHIN pool were clear: Let them come to you; only touch them if they swim alongside the edge in a way that allows you to stroke their side or back. I prayed that one would swim close enough for me to touch it, even if my fingertips only brushed its skin. As I waited, I prayed that fear would not hold me back from seizing the opportunity when it finally came. I have battled fear my entire life. My phobias of water used to drive my poor mom and dad crazy. In the past, I would not have dipped my hand into any pool containing large sea creatures. But I had come a long way in my fight against fear, and today, I was determined to…

MY EIGHT-YEAR-OLD GRANDSON, LUKE, WATCHED several older cousins ride the giant swing at a Christian campsite. “That looks like fun,” he said. “I want a turn.” He stepped onto the platform and asked the swing operator to buckle him into the harness. As the operator began, Luke changed his mind. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea after all,” he said. Cheering onlookers assured him that he’d be safe. He visibly relaxed and remained on the ride. The operator raised the swing until Luke’s back was parallel to the ground, and then he released it. Luke soared through the air, hooting and laughing. When his ride ended, the operator lowered him and unbuckled the harness. “Wow—that was fun!” said Luke. “I wasn’t even scared.” “Why weren’t you scared?”…

ONE DAY WHEN I HAD an appointment in New York City, I decided to walk to the commuter train from the suburb I live in. I typically drive, but it was a balmy summer day and I needed the exercise. As I hurried through the large parking lot, I passed dozens of cars and I noticed something: almost all of them had vanity license plates—you know, the ones with personalized messages. In addition, there were license plate frames touting colleges, sports teams, sororities and fraternities, occupations, even Jesus! It was a mass showing of people wanting to be identified with something that they are proud of. I thought about Jesus. When the folks in the synagogue heard Him teaching with authority and conviction, they couldn’t believe He was Who He…

THE BIBLE IS FULL OF prominent old folks God recruited for vital kingdom missions. Abraham and Noah, Elizabeth, mother of John, and assorted mature apostles. God is definitely not ageist. One of the things I most enjoy about living in the Sunshine State is the median age. At fifty, I’m not always the oldest person in the room. Everywhere, I see seniors who are living meaningful and fun-filled lives of purpose, many with second or third careers and ministries, new romances, dynamic leisure activities, and revived dreams. American culture favors youth more than any other on the globe. Having recently hit the mid-century mark, I’m amazed that I’m enjoying one of my best decades yet. I’ve fulfilled some lifelong desires—including living near the beach—and find new, deeply satisfying friendships and…

AS MY FAMILY AND I were driving along the interstate, I glanced down just as two dashboard lights came on. My stomach tightened, sinking like a stone. I pulled off the freeway to park under a shade tree. With no buildings in sight, we’d broken down in the middle of nowhere. I felt as helpless and alone as a lost child. Ninety-degree air wafted through the open windows as we each searched for our own solutions. My daughter called a mechanic to seek advice. My son-in-law surfed the internet searching out repair videos. My husband, David, pored over the car’s manual. I stayed quiet, waiting. But none of us considered the obvious solution—calling for help. Fifteen minutes later, the car remained disabled. The situation was beyond our control. I pulled…

YESTERDAY, WE WERE AT THE beach near San Diego. The sky was clear, the sand was hot, and the waves were big. My sister, Erica, sister-in-law, Traci, and niece, Aly, were with me, staked out on a blanket. A myriad of teenage cousins were going boogie boarding. My brother-in-law, Brett, an avid surfer, warned the kids about the riptides. He instructed them not to go out above their waists, in case they lost their boogie boards in the waves and needed to swim to shore. They headed out into the surf with shouts of joy. But while the kids had fun careening through the surf, the blanket brigade spent the afternoon doing head counts. We were making sure no one was getting pulled under. We weren’t the only ones being…

WHAT DOES IT REALLY MEAN to pray without ceasing? Does it mean we chant at the wailing wall in Jerusalem? Or is it more like the meditative murmurs of a cloistered nun? I used to think that was the picture of devoted prayer. Today, it looks like constant, humble reliance on Jesus. I confess, I’m not much for humble dependence. I much prefer confident self-reliance. But when I consider my place as a daughter of the Almighty, I recognize the luxury of this privilege. I can consult the God of the universe as I go about my day. To gain strength at the weak point, solutions to problems, or just the grace to wait. Why wouldn’t I pray without ceasing? Over time, I’ve gotten better at praying throughout the day,…

MY STACK OF MAIL INCLUDED a bill, a letter informing me that I qualified for a car loan (I don’t even have a driver’s license), a piece of junk mail addressed to my ex-husband, and a fat envelope with my name written in bubble letters. As soon as I saw the lettering, I knew I’d received something fun from my friend Lisa. The envelope contained an encouraging note, a handmade coloring sheet that she’d created, and a pocket-sized card with an inspirational quote on it. I’d been feeling discouraged, and Jesus clearly knew what would help. Lisa’s note reminded me, You are valuable and loved. It provided the lift I needed to go on with my day. I wanted to hug Lisa, but she lived three thousand miles away. I…

OUR DOG, FLASH, IS A cross between a Jack Russell terrier and a Chihuahua. He is cute and fast and loves to play. He loves it when you throw him the ball. He just has one problem. Once he brings the ball back to you, he won’t let it go. You can tell he wants to give it to you as he nudges it toward you. But as soon as you try and pick it up, he snatches it and growls. Then he looks at you, as if to say, “Why aren’t you playing with me?” The dog has issues. So do I. That is probably why I like him so much. I am just like Flash, who worries over his toy, constantly moving it around, never taking his eyes…

WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? WHY can’t I get it right with her? No matter how I framed comments, I managed to offend my friend repeatedly. I was frustrated and wondered who would listen, pray for me, offer wise counsel, and help me figure out what was going on. Then I remembered times when I’d confided in someone after a conflict and resorted to gossip. Lord, who can I talk to that I won’t cross that line with? Another time, I took advice that only made a problem worse. How about if you talk to Me? Jesus already knew every detail of this complicated situation and the best way to resolve it. As I poured out my confusion and allowed Him to speak, I began to see when I’d blown it…

AS A LIFELONG PEOPLE PLEASER, I really don’t like it when people don’t like me. I avoid conflict and confrontation. And while I’m not one to flaunt my faith or factions on Facebook, I know my faith is evident. Apart from the obvious, like writing for Guideposts, my convictions just seep out of me unbidden in everyday conversation. I’ve been persecuted for it. I used to think of persecution as imprisonment or banned books. Coptic Christians, Middle Eastern missionaries, and Communist Bloc Bible runners were persecuted. That’s not me or anyone I know. But Christians are persecuted. We’re persecuted in the silent eye-roll of our cubicle mate. We’re persecuted by the neighborhood party to which we’re not invited. We’re persecuted by the clenched-mouth greeting of our intellectual brother-in-law. We’re persecuted…

MY HUSBAND AND I GREW up watching Star Wars. And so when Star Wars: The Force Awakens came out a few years ago, we were excited to share the experience with our children. On the first day it was released, we found ourselves at an early-morning screening at the biggest movie theater in town, 3-D glasses on our faces, and a container of popcorn to pass between us. What I remember most was the last moment of the movie. The young heroine, Rey, found Luke Skywalker at the top of a mountain and presented him with his long-lost light saber. When Rey held out the weapon, it appeared to be floating in front of us. I looked over to my right, and watched as both my son and my husband…

WHEN A BEDBUG INFESTATION CAUSED us to relocate our long-awaited family reunion to a rustic retreat center, I assumed we would cancel. Most of Dad’s twenty-plus cousins would have to sleep in bunk bed dorms and run-down cabins. I assumed they wouldn’t want to do that. But halfway through the first full day, I became thankful that “rustic” shared bathrooms and camp food hadn’t scared away these descendants of Dust Bowl survivors. Thanks to a narrow (and steep!) winding gravel road, most of us stayed on the grounds for the entire three-and-a-half days, taking long walks, playing games, and enjoying our favorite family tradition of talking and laughing over coffee and snacks. I met relatives who hadn’t attended a reunion in decades, bonded with others in deeper ways, and learned…

I LIVE IN CALIFORNIA, AND every decade or so we experience drought. The rain stops. The hills turn brown. Summer brush fires break out. And cities clamp down on water usage. Everyone is asked to let their front lawns suffer to save water. Instead of having lush green patches of grass lining the streets, everyone starts cultivating rock gardens and succulents to keep up appearances. Water is precious. Water is life. And Jesus is the Living Water. We need a constant flow of His love and grace to nurture growth. We need His refreshing truth and life-altering forgiveness. The overflow of His goodness lets us flourish in every way. There have been long seasons in my life when my faith has felt dry and dusty. Hope has hardened into doubt.…

OUR HISTORIC PORTRAIT AS A nation is blotted with faces of hate. Each time it’s revealed, I feel overwhelmed with sadness as well as somewhat paralyzed regarding what I can do to help. When I think about the men who marched with Nazi and KKK paraphernalia in Charlottesville or the image of the murderer behind the massacre in a church in Charleston or those who carried out the deadly blast at an Islamic center in Minnesota, I’m left to wonder, How could this happen in America? Even today? Times like this, I’m reminded of a verse of the old hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy”: “Though the darkness hide thee/Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see.” The darkness seems so big, and I feel so small. I know…

I’M ALWAYS LOOKING FOR HEAVEN—IN people, places, and things. We live on Florida’s Suncoast, a tropical paradise. We used to live in the postcard-pretty mountain town of Berkeley Springs, West Virginia—a state John Denver dubbed “almost heaven.” Yet neither place is actually “paradise” nor “heaven.” Here in Florida, along with lush landscapes, I’m discovering unfamiliar insects, including swarms of epidemic-carrying mosquitoes. With the warm, crystal Gulf and countless shimmering waterways comes a myriad of side effects of too much water—destructive storms, mold, and humidity. Beautiful and exotic wildlife includes invasive pythons, rats, and alligators. West Virginia had its own assortment of sometimes harsh reminders that earth is definitely not heaven. Lush hillsides marred by aggressive mining. Hardworking families crushed by black lung and lost jobs. Quaint towns abandoned for more…

A WIDOW FROM VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, attended a women’s conference where I spoke. After the last session, she came to me and said, “My house has a large daylight basement with a room for people in career ministry. The beach is fifteen minutes away. You’re welcome to stay there whenever you need a personal retreat.” After six months of traveling overseas and across North America for ministry purposes, I yearned for physical rest and spiritual renewal. A focused quiet time with Jesus, away from my home responsibilities, seemed just the right thing. I gratefully accepted her invitation. The retreat lasted only two days, but it allowed time to read, reflect, and pray. I returned home refreshed, ready to write again, and feeling better prepared for an upcoming mission trip to…

JAMAICA IS MY FAVORITE CARIBBEAN country. The pristine beaches, crystal blue water, scrumptious food, and friendly people draw me back time and time again. On my first trip, I was like a wide-eyed kid, marveling at the waterfalls and lush vegetation on the way to Negril, the northernmost part of the country. As our van crawled up the dirt roads, I also saw the abject poverty of many of the locals. Tin roofs covered houses no bigger than my basement. Goats and chickens roamed freely in the dirt outside their homes. I met so many kind folks, most of whom were Christians and loved Jesus with their whole hearts. And I noticed that although they were poor as measured monetarily, their spirits were rich with joy. Their warm smiles and…

NEEDY. I HATED THAT WORD. I used it in a self-deprecating “sorry to be a needy friend” type of way all the time. It resurrected memories of being labeled emotionally immature. I cried with someone who initially responded with, “Call if you need to talk” but then later avoided me. “I know you’re in a needy place, but I’m busy.” I associated my need for comfort with being a clingy pest. When years of unresolved pain drove me to counseling, I had to face the side of me that felt extremely needy, because I’d been hurt. Knowing my feelings about that word, my counselor suggested that we replace it with something else. As much as I wanted to, I knew it was time to make peace with the word needy.…

AS A FRIEND AND I spoke on the phone, she poured out the impossibilities of a family relationship crisis that seemed unending. They would make significant progress, then retreat into old habits, old bitterness, old regrets that fueled old arguments. “I don’t know what to do anymore but pray,” she said. The brief silence between us marked the moment we both realized how quick we are with a reply like that, although we both knew the power of prayer and the comfort of knowing Jesus calls us to come to Him when we’re facing the impossible. “It’s not as if He says, ‘Here I am in a corner of the basement,’” I reminded both of us. “He doesn’t say, ‘It’s dark here in the cellar and full of cobwebs. Damp.…

MY DOCTOR ORDERED AN ULTRASOUND for me at a clinic thirty miles away. I arrived at the facility with a half hour to spare. I’ll grab a cup of coffee, I thought upon seeing a teeny café in the building’s foyer. The woman behind the counter greeted me warmly. Her accent told me she was Eastern European, so I asked her about her country of origin. “Poland,” she said. “Really? I visit Poland every year,” I said. The moment she realized my personal interest in her homeland, she began talking to me as though we were best friends. “My husband and I immigrated to Canada in 1994,” she said. “We came with only one suitcase of belongings and had to start life over.” She told me that they’ve reached retirement…

THIS SUMMER, WHILE MY HUSBAND and I were enjoying a short getaway together, we met a mature couple we liked immediately. They had just climbed to the top of a Vermont mountain. There was something about the woman that impressed me and made me want to get to know her better. She seemed very grounded and wise, comfortable in her skin, and like she really knew how to live. I thought, It must be her work that has given her this fountain of life wisdom she draws from. So I asked her what she did for a living. But I was wrong to think that her profession was the source. Seven years ago, the couple’s younger son had committed suicide at age thirty. This was a cross they had picked…

AS I READ THE FIRST chapter of John today, I was challenged by Jesus’s words to the disciples who approached Him. I spend a lot of time asking Jesus to come into my life, my day, my activities. I tell Him about my goals and ask Him to bless them. In effect, I’m saying, “Come see what I’m up to and join me.” But I often have things backward. These disciples asked Jesus where He was staying. Although they were speaking of a physical location, their question reminded me to ask this of Jesus in a metaphorical way. I can ask Him what He is focusing on that day, where He is “staying.” Is there a ministry at my church that is being prompted forward in a new way, where…

WHEN MY HUSBAND, RICHARD, AND I visited our daughter’s family last summer, seven-year-old Roman wanted to take up fishing. The week included three trips to the sporting goods store, stops for bait and licenses, and jaunts to local lakes. All of which netted one tiny fish. Not what Roman had imagined. Six weeks later, we visited again and learned that Roman had been researching fishing tips online. At his request, I helped him locate library books on fishing, and Richard bought him a much nicer rod and reel along with the lure that “guaranteed” a good catch. During that second visit, Richard, Roman, and my son-in-law returned from their trips empty-handed, talking about broken lines and lost lures. Roman was completely discouraged; after returning from one fishing trip, he went…

MY DAD’S FAMILY BUILT A vacation cabin in the Sierras when I was in kindergarten. It’s full of memories of snow trips, hot days at the lake, and playing house under an old oak tree with my sisters and cousins using a nearby stump as our kitchen. Some things haven’t been updated since the seventies, like the rosewood paneling and Formica countertops, and storing sleds in an unfinished room known as the dungeon. Other things have changed: the TV now gets more than three fuzzy channels, and we finally remodeled the bathrooms. Now, a new generation is collecting memories of the cabin. This summer, I lugged my suitcase to the bedroom I’d claimed, and spotted Grandma’s copy of Streams in the Desert and her father’s Bible sitting on top of…

WHEN THE CHILDREN WERE YOUNG, exhaustion sometimes pushed me past the point of reason. “I worked hard for hours to make this nice dinner. Now sit here and enjoy it!” or “We saved all year for this outing, so we aren’t leaving until you stop whining and have fun.” I ruefully shake my head at those memories. When Jesus challenges the Pharisees’ twisted logic, He also challenges me. They felt rather smug in their choices. Why should their parents complain about not being cared for? The Pharisees had self-righteously given huge amounts to God instead. The problem was, that wasn’t what God was asking of them. What might family life have been like if I’d focused less on making sacrifices for the kids that left me cranky and, instead, focused…

DAREDEVIL NIK WALLENDA HAS ALWAYS fascinated me with his death-defying feats. He’s a high-wire artist and holds nine Guinness World Records. A few years ago, I watched a televised event of Wallenda completing one of his greatest accomplishments: crossing a tightrope directly over Niagara Falls. I’d read that Nik had repeatedly dreamed of that moment since he was a small child. His great-grandfather, Karl Wallenda, had also been a daredevil and circus performer. He was the one who’d inspired Nik’s dreams and ambitions, but Karl was killed in an acrobatic attempt in 1978. I thought about that as I watched Nik. What if he fell? In several interviews, Wallenda has talked about his tightrope walk in life, always seeking to maintain a good balance between his faith, family, and work.…

ONE OF MY SUMMER HIGHLIGHTS was attending a weeklong Bible camp in Washington State with my two daughters and their husbands. Each morning, there was a program that included a chapel service that began with a half hour of singing. One morning, we sang “It Is Well with My Soul:” “When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.” The songwriter, Horatio G. Spafford, was a successful lawyer and real estate investor. In 1871, the Great Chicago Fire destroyed his downtown properties. Two years later, his four young daughters drowned at sea. In the midst of unimaginable pain, Spafford—a follower of Jesus—penned these lyrics as his testimony.…

IT’S BEEN SAID THAT UNFORGIVENESS is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die. So, basically, not forgiving someone hurts us more than it hurts the other person. Forgiveness is vital to our growth in Christ, and the Lord commands we offer it up freely to those who have offended us. Yet it’s the hardest thing for us to do. A spouse commits adultery. A friend betrays a confidence. An unjust judge rules against you. All of these things can knock the wind out of our sails and make it hard to trust—and in some cases, to love—again. It seems impossible. I know it felt impossible for me at times. But the Bible has often given me reminders that it is an important practice of my faith.…

THERE ARE TIMES WHEN I think I have Jesus somewhat figured out. I sing about Him at church, tell stories about His miracles to my five-year-old, and write devotions that make people feel good. I understand His mercy. His kindness and compassion are things I crave, and I know being a Christian means I imitate Him and show His love to others. But then there are these moments when I see through a new lens—moments like reading Colossians 1—and I am painfully aware of my ignorance, my inability to comprehend Who this “person” is. I’ve made Him my friend. I know this is real, and I’m thankful for our relationship. Yet He’s so much more. And if I don’t see that, don’t live with awareness and respect and awe, then…

IN THE SUMMER AND FALL, my favorite place to collect my thoughts—but more important, to listen to Jesus’s whispers—is on my screened-in front porch. White wicker chairs that’ll have to be replaced someday soon. Flowers in window boxes that match the colors of the chair cushions. A morning breeze, tree-filtered sun, a cup of strong tea, and my Bible. One morning, I settled in for an extended time of reading. Highlighter at the ready, I prepared to dive in to see what I needed to glean from Jesus’s life and teaching that day. My highlighter and my thoughts planted themselves on the first word I read: All. Luke 15:1 says that “all the tax collectors and sinners were gathering around Jesus to listen to him” (emphasis mine). All of them?…

UNTIL RECENTLY, I KNEW LITTLE of prayer labyrinths. Unlike mazes, they don’t offer choices along the trail. The only decision you make is to enter, trusting the path will lead you closer to God. The footpath represents the complexities of faith as we face life’s trials. It should be walked slowly, praying with every step. Walkers might leave with a sense of God’s will, or a word or phrase clear in their minds. At first, I questioned the spirituality of this practice, but worshipping Christ is a good thing. Because I have mild attention deficit disorder, it’s hard for me to focus on one thing at a time. Doing something to keep my body busy as I reached out to Jesus would help with concentration, so when I discovered a…