Indholdsfortegnelse for September/October 2020 i Mornings with Jesus

“TELL ME THE STORIES of Jesus,” we used to sing in Sunday school when I was a kid. “Things I would ask Him to tell me if He were here,” it went on. “Scenes by the wayside, tales of the sea / Stories of Jesus, tell them to me.” Only recently did I find myself humming that tune when I was thinking about how Jesus was such a great storyteller Himself. If I created a list of the best stories of all time, several of his parables, such as “The Good Samaritan,” say, or “The Prodigal Son,” would definitely be at the top. His stories always give you something new to think about, no matter how often you’ve heard them. Take “The Prodigal Son.” I always figured it was about…

AMONG MY DAY-TO-DAY ACTIVITIES, I’M tasked with evaluating manuscripts for their publication potential. In a way, I’m a quality-control specialist in a story factory. I examine an author’s writing with the literary equivalent of a “tuning fork.” If it doesn’t sing, it’s removed from the conveyor belt. I test its integrity. If it doesn’t pass that test, off it comes. Without fail, two factors will make an author’s submission suspect before I get to the manuscript—if the author’s résumé or cover letter is overconfident or underconfident. What am I looking for? What is Jesus looking for in His followers? Those who understand the value of appreciating the gifts of “unending help and confidence” that can invigorate a work. Overconfidence—boasting, puffing up a résumé or using lofty descriptions of self—shows the…

I JUST LOVE PETER, DON’T you? I’m certain his character is central to the story of Jesus because he is most of us. We might read the story and admire John, see Jesus as the hero and Judas as the villain, but without Peter, I wouldn’t relate to it nearly as well. He’s the one whose passions too often control him, who means well but is always messing up, the one who so clearly represents our weaknesses. If he’s not getting in Jesus’s way, he’s cutting off someone’s ear. If he’s not asking the hard questions, he’s denying he ever knew Jesus. And yet he’s still the one who got out of the boat. The one Jesus called His rock. Here at the end of John, we have another classic…

YEARS AGO, I WATCHED A show that featured people who brought in old stuff to have it appraised by experts. Naturally everyone hoped to hear exciting news about their vase, painting, article of furniture, or whatever. Many people left disappointed, but some were shocked to learn that their object was a valuable antique. For a while I attended garage sales and flea markets with one persistent thought: what if I discovered a valuable treasure among someone’s discarded junk? Sad to say, I occasionally witness someone looking at a person as though he or she is discarded junk with little value. That unkempt man holding a cardboard sign by the highway. The woman with dementia mumbling to herself in the park. The special-needs child causing a disturbance in a store. In…

I SLEEP WITH MY CELL phone on the nightstand beside my bed. The phone serves as my alarm clock. I also use it to pay bills and to communicate by email with my employer, book editors, and members of my writing circle. I use my phone to promote books and book signings on social media. I use it to connect with family and friends who post occasional pictures of sunny vacations, grinning grand-babies, and cake recipes they will never commence to bake. While the technology makes me especially accessible to my aging mother, I have reached a resounding conclusion. With all its pings, beeps, and ringing notifications, my cell phone is a distraction. The prophet Isaiah said it is in “quietness” that we find our strength (Isaiah 30:15, KJV). So,…

I HAVE A STUDENT IN freshman English who is sixty years old. He told me he joined the army to get the GI Bill, so he could go to college over forty years ago. Instead, he went to Vietnam. When he came home, he said, he was too messed up to start college. He’s had a difficult life but never gave up his dream. For years, he’s been haunted by nightmares that drove him to alcohol addiction. His family left him alone on his farm. Finally he got help and learned he has PTSD. Guess what the cure is? Get out of isolation. So now, using his GI Bill, he’s in my class. This guy could focus on everything that’s sad about his story. Just listening to it brought me…

MY PRODUCTIVITY LEVEL WAS SLIPPING. I’d shoved a few too many pieces of paper into the stack “to be filed.” Somewhere in that stack was a list of ideas for future devotions. Conference notes. A receipt I need for a rebate. Time to purge and file and organize. I discovered a piece of paper that had fallen out of my Bible. The paper held names of those for whom I’d been praying regarding their spiritual health. Some had walked a path that took them farther from the footsteps of Jesus. The list needed to be updated, but not as much as I’d wished. Many were still walking perpendicular to the path Jesus had laid out. They’d turned their backs on Him and showed no signs of changing. Were my prayers…

I SERVE MY COMMUNITY AS a school librarian. The job is more than shelving books. I labor over lesson plans, state testing, and the management of carts and classrooms filled with hundreds of computers. Every morning, students and faculty charge toward my door, seeking computer help. My library buzzes with few quiet moments. Welcome to the twenty-first-century library! In the middle of one frenzied morning, I looked up toward the ceiling tile and blurted, “I hate my job!” A concerned student athlete approached my desk and asked, “How is your day?” I groaned, “Not good.” He proceeded to tell me about a Scripture he had learned in his youth group—Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA). The Bible says, “Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the…

GEPHYROPHOBIA IS A PHOBIA OF bridges. I once had a friend who would have an someone drive her across Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay Bridge, a breathtaking four-mile-long, 185-foot-high expanse. Apparently the fear for many is the imagined threat of losing control, careening through the guardrails, and plummeting to the ground below. Someone else driving is reassurance enough to quell the terror. I don’t have a fear of bridges. But fear of losing control? I have that by the bucketful. And yet it’s obvious that driving across the bridge of life is risky. The solution for me is the same: let someone else drive. When I gave my life to Christ, I handed Him the keys to my car. Wrestling over who gets to drive hasn’t worked so well. In the past…

WHILE BROWSING THROUGH OLD PHOTOS, I came across one of my daughter beaming, with her arm around her first-grade teacher. Memories flooded back as I recalled what a wonderful school year Holly had with Mrs. Smith. Each time I volunteered in her classroom, I sensed something different from other classes. The atmosphere seemed more peaceful, the kids more cooperative and positive. I wondered what made the difference. I found out when I accompanied the class on a field trip. After the bus arrived at our destination, Mrs. Smith stood up. No last-minute instructions, no review of the rules or proper etiquette. Mrs. Smith looked into the children’s faces and smiled as she assured them of her confidence in their behavior. “We’re going to have fun today. I’m so proud of…

HIS BEDROOM DOOR WAS LEFT ajar, so I could help my father right away if he needed anything. “Good morning, Pa! What would you like to have for breakfast?” While moving slowly toward the dining table, he said, “I’d like some tea.” As I prepared his tea, I made a mental list of the things I needed to do. Wash the dishes. Clean the house. Check if there’s a message from Mother, who was on vacation overseas with my siblings. Before he took his noon nap, Pa requested pizza. I quickly took a bath but skipped my usual routine. Ordering the pizza was the priority. I didn’t want him to wake up hungry and have to wait for his lunch. Later that day, when I finally had time for myself,…

TWO BOSTON TERRIER PUPPIES PLAY at my feet as I type this. They wrestle, rolling around before they take off across my great room, toenails clicking wildly. When they try to stop, they slide sixteen inches on the hardwood floor. In a moment they’ll give out. When they do, they will flop down wherever they are with their little round bellies in the air. And soon they’ll be snoring through their adorable bulldog noses. Their idea is play hard, sleep hard. Our lives are not so simple, but whether we work or play hard, we all need rest. This shouldn’t be hard to remember. But it is. I look out at the world and see so much that needs to be done that I’m overwhelmed. It seems like there’s no…

MY HUSBAND IS A FOOTBALL coach and his days are devoted to helping young men develop character even as they learn the ins and outs of the game. One of the things he does is meet regularly with members of the team who aspire to be leaders and discuss what makes someone a good leader. They’ve talked about “grit,” courage, and work ethic. The lesson this week was humility. It seemed to be the hardest one for them so far, and yet it’s probably the most important. It’s easy to get confused about what humility is. The football guys wanted to associate it with being quiet and shy, not being competitive, lacking self-confidence. While mental toughness, being brave, and working hard all made sense to them as leaders, humility seemed…

As you know, it was because of an illness that I first preached the gospel to you, and even though my illness was a trial to you, you did not treat me with contempt or scorn. Instead, you welcomed me as if I were an angel of God, as if I were Christ Jesus himself. Galatians 4:13–14 (NIV) I AM FEELING SPIRITUALLY BROKEN. I have been sick and tired lately, but that is not the broken part of me. It is that I do not seem to remember how to rest. I do not know how to receive as fully as God is asking me to receive. I love the picture that Paul paints in the Scripture above—it sounds as if he got so sick that a community had to…

I LOVE THE WAY THE Message Bible shares Scripture in unvarnished, often very raw, terms. When I ran across this verse in a recent devotional, I nearly jumped for joy. Yes! Arm pump, fist bump, and all that. So often, this verse speaks my heart. Some days I feel like a genuine mess. I clearly see my failings, the persistent defects, large and small, that simply haven’t gone away. But with grace, I no longer let these things paralyze or demoralize me with self-condemnation. In Christ, this verse, and a few familiar others, lead to restful joy. Clinically busy, I sometimes rush through a day in a near panic, snappy, and self-righteous. I ignore my child’s request to stop and play, or my own body’s cry for rest. Then the…

MY HUSBAND TOOK OUR GRANDSONS for a fishing mini-vacation. As always, they returned with tales to tell. This trip included a misadventure that could have become more than merely frustrating. Hot day. Bugs were bad. Fishing was too. Rain had raised the level of the small lake. When the fishermen finally called it quits and decided to head for the cabin, trouble intensified. The makeshift boat ramp had lost a bit of its integrity, so the tires of the boat trailer sank deep in mud and threatened to take the car with it. They unhooked the trailer and pulled the car forward, out of danger. But they had to find a way to pull the boat and trailer free. The rope attached to the bow of the boat wasn’t long…

I AM NOT COMFORTABLE WITH broken things. It’s probably a sign of obsessive-compulsive disorder. But if something gets broken in my house and it is not hidden from me first, my tendency is to throw it away. I hate chipped bowls, plates, and cups. I despise broken toys. I am not a gluer. I have no confidence in things that are “fixed.” I know it is only a matter of time before they fall apart again. My husband, Stone, is the opposite. I am forever finding contraptions holding together objects that he has glued for the kids. “Don’t touch it!” he’ll say. “It just has to set.” It’s no small wonder I am bypassed when the dog chews a stuffed animal’s eye out or the play toaster gets dropped and…

WHENEVER I READ THE STORY of Joseph’s early life, I get caught up in the conflict, emotional tension, and turmoil. But then I sigh when I reach chapter 45 and see a beautiful picture of peace and restored relationships. After Joseph revealed his identity, he assured his brothers that what had happened to him was part of God’s plan. Joseph released them from their burden of guilt. Once they recovered from their shock that Joseph was alive, they sat down and talked about how things had changed. The formerly despised brother is now a powerful leader. The guilty brothers are not only forgiven but protected and provided for by the one they had wronged. The aging father still grieving the loss of his beloved son learns he is not only…

ONE SATURDAY MORNING, I WOKE with ambitious goals for the day. Unfortunately illness interfered. I chafed at once again having to adjust my plans. Disappointment made me grumpy. I like the illusion of control over my own life. My daughter-in-law shared that she can relate. As a mom of three little ones, she may start the day planning to take a shower, fold all the laundry, and work on her Bible-study homework. Instead, one child after another needs her, interrupts her, or undoes her work. She does a great job at adapting and shifting direction, accepting that sometimes we have to let go of our own plans. As we talked about how we’ve been learning to pivot from our own agendas to serving the ever-changing needs around us, I realized…

TEETERING ON THE EDGE OF burnout, I’d lost my way in a drive to build up an arts ministry. Obstacles, questions, and doubts threatened to push me over the edge. I’d become short-tempered with family and friends. Even worse, I’d begun to question the love of Jesus, since He had led me onto this path. One morning as I sat down to pray about the situation, I found myself pulling away from Jesus. I was ashamed to tell Him the ways I was failing or admit how weak I felt. I’d envisioned myself as a bold warrior for His kingdom. Where had my strong faith gone? When I stopped pretending I could handle everything on my own, I timidly asked Him for help. Instead of the chiding I expected, Jesus’s…

MY DISCOMFORT IN LIFE IS magnified when I think that I shouldn’t have certain struggles because I’m a Christian. An unexpected household expense sends me reeling with financial anxiety. My husband’s grumpiness triggers the martyr in me. I scream at my kids over something trivial. Won’t I ever change? Even that thought is extreme. The reality is, Jesus Himself told us we’d have problems (John 16:33), but the sweet luxury we have as Christians is to choose to bring all our feelings to Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). We Christians have the same problems as everyone else, but the solution is different: Jesus. With Jesus we can focus on the fact that we have His mind (1 Corinthians 2:16) and His power, love, and self-control (2 Timothy 1:7). Through praise, prayer,…

FEAR IS A DREAM KILLER. Fear makes me think of all the negative outcomes that could happen if I do something out of my comfort zone: Somebody might not like it. I don’t know how to do it. People will talk about me. Or . . . it might not work. I weary myself listening to the naysaying in my head and talk myself out of trying to do anything new. Or if I start a project, fear keeps me from finishing it. Eventually I allow my dreams to be killed by fear. Lately as I have been studying the Scriptures, spending time with Jesus, and listening to my pastor’s sermons, I am giving faith a try. I am fighting fear with faith in Jesus. Instead of focusing on the…

MY THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD JUST STARTED SEVENTH grade. I periodically grab him by the shoulders, look him in the eye and firmly command, “Stop growing!” Seriously, what happened this summer? My little boy mysteriously became more man-like seemingly overnight. I’m not sure I’m ready. To be frank, I’ve almost never been ready for the major changes in my life. Being told I’d have a child with Down syndrome. Finishing two degrees after years of study. My parents dying; one suddenly, the other, after ailing a long time. Stepping off the corporate ladder. Moving to Florida quickly, after years of contemplating. I didn’t think I was ready. God said I was. In His strength. The apostle Paul’s life seemed settled. He was an elite Jewish Pharisee, one who persecuted Christians with self-acclaimed zeal.…

WITH MANY YEARS OF INTENSIVE training, I’ve learned to wait in many situations. The lines, the traffic jams, and waiting rooms of life don’t faze me. I can sit or stand serenely. I can do this mostly without toe-tapping or grumbling. But the weightier waits . . . they can still churn me up, though I see progress. At the heart of it is the unknown, the uncertain outcome, and the big question mark. Waiting for relief from my pain and fear to subside those first few months after my son Isaac was born with Down syndrome. Waiting to see if we could sell our home to relocate to Florida. Waiting for the results of my lymph node biopsy. Waiting now, with hopeful curiosity, to see what Jesus has planned…

MY SON AND HIS FAMILY are living with us as he finishes seminary. We’ve been blessed by seeing them each day, but two households under one roof is a challenge. One Saturday they were longing for time to themselves. So my husband and I decided to stay out of the house all day and give them space and privacy. We hit several yard sales, then visited my mom, went out for lunch, and then to the zoo. It was a fun day, but we grew thirsty, hot, and tired. We finally stopped at a park, and I rested on a bench, thinking how blessed we are to have a home and that our “pilgrim” status was only for a day. Leaving a familiar and comfortable situation even briefly reminded me…

JESUS HAS BEEN DEALING WITH me about busyness (and rest) for a while. Or better yet, about not being so busy. I routinely over-schedule myself and my family; overwhelming everyone even with good stuff like sports, church activities, and social events. I see a need—a friend’s, at the boys’ schools, in the community—and volunteer. It’s all good. Or is it? I’m a hard case. I traded His easy yoke for a hard one (Matthew 11:30). Yet my deeply personal Jesus deals with me on a very personal level. Decidedly type A, I have a hard time discerning what’s busyness, what’s essential, and what’s simply using my gifts to serve others. Am I not supposed to help people? Don’t I need to cultivate my kids’ talents? Shouldn’t I maximize every day?…

I MET FRANKLIN IN COLLEGE. He was tall and lean like a championship athlete. However, during our college years, he traded in his high school football cleats for paintbrushes. If a college club needed T-shirt designs, Franklin was the artist for the job. He also painted and framed abstract drawings made of discarded paper and watercolors. Most of us students had not yet developed a keen appreciation for art, but we supported Franklin’s local art shows. And in return, Franklin supported his college friends. He owned a big blue truck and was forever loading it up with computers, furniture, and books when a buddy upgraded to new digs off campus. In the years after college, Franklin sold artwork for thousands of dollars and taught art until his health failed. When…

HAVE YOU EVER MET A stranger, face-to-face, who turned out to be someone you prayed for in the past? During our church prayer meetings, my friends and I pray for people from all nations to know Jesus Christ as their Savior. We pray for persecuted believers to persevere in their faith. Even without going to the mission field to minister to these people ourselves, we continue praying for them. When I attended an international publishing conference in Brazil, I met one of the people I’d been praying for! He’s a Chinese editor who learned about Christ through a lady professor at his university. He became a Christian and began attending one of the many thriving house churches in China. After coming to know the Lord, he decided to use his…

FORGIVENESS IS A BEAUTIFUL THING. It restores relationships and makes things right. But in the real world? It’s hard. A few months ago a colleague did something that hurt me professionally. As far as I was concerned, she didn’t deserve my forgiveness. Shortly after the incident, I saw her walking down the hallway toward me and wondered, Should I take the stairs and avoid her entirely? Or do I walk by without speaking, so she’ll know how angry I am? But as we approached one another, I knew what I had to do. I had to forgive, but it was hard. Grudgingly I said, “Hello.” I started to feel my anger subside. I felt lighter. Jesus was doing a work in my heart. Years ago before I knew the Lord,…

A WOMAN FROM MY COMMUNITY is undergoing a serious health crisis. She fell for no apparent reason three times in a couple of months. The last fall broke her right wrist. As her wrist mended, her right hand turned limp and useless. Pain and swelling set in. Her entire arm soon developed the same symptoms. The symptoms are now spreading to her lower body. As she and many others pray for a miracle, bewildered doctors try to help by prescribing pain medication. It doesn’t begin to touch the pain that racks her day and night. In the midst of extreme suffering, this woman has chosen to respond by expressing trust in Jesus’s sovereignty in her life. “Satan may want to use this situation to discourage or destroy me,” she said,…

LIKE MANY OTHER PEOPLE, I enjoy social media, television, reading, and talking on the phone. Until recently, the first thing I did every morning was look at social media and see what was going on with my friends. I enjoyed sending birthday and anniversary greetings. Afterward, I would say my prayers. But I began to I realize, I was spending more time posting on Facebook than talking to Jesus or reading His Word. The things I enjoy are not sinful. Work, family, relationships, and hobbies are good things. But sin comes creeping in when we make these things a priority over Jesus. The first commandment says for us to have no other gods before Him. I had literally put my entertainment before Jesus. Matthew 6:33 (ESV) instructs us, “But seek…

THE MONTH OF OCTOBER IS bittersweet for me. It is sweet because my mother was born in October. October is bitter because Ray, my godson, died in a one-car accident on the first day of the month. He was twenty-five years old and served our city as a fireman. Prior to Ray’s death, when I was in a slump, his parents, Katrina and Ray Sr., were the two friends that I called for a ready prayer, a quick word of encouragement, or laughter to keep from crying. With their positive outlook and joy for life, Katrina and Ray Sr. offered me sunshine on cloudy days. Our friendship shifted with the passing of their son. It was now my turn to offer them prayer, encouragement, and laughter. It was now my…

WE FILED THROUGH THE RECEIVING line prior to the funeral, touched by mementos of the young woman’s too-short life. Jigsaw puzzles—one of her favorite pastimes during chemo treatments. Photos with her husband and two little boys. Pink ribbons. I lingered at the plaster casting of the young woman’s left forearm, her hand clutching a casting of her older son’s forearm, clutching the younger son’s forearm, which was clutching the husband’s forearm, whose hand was clutching his wife’s forearm. A circle of undying love captured in plaster. Her wedding ring was so distinct in the plaster that it drew my attention. It was realistic to the finest detail, because it was an exact imprint, an exact impression from the real ring. What a treasure for the family to cherish. So lifelike,…

WHAT AN AWESOME OPPORTUNITY, I thought as I read a magazine announcing a writing contest. Several winners would be chosen to take classes with well-known authors. What a dream! I started writing as a child to escape my difficult childhood. Later, I’d wanted to pursue writing, but between balancing a family and working, I was unable to take writing classes. I debated whether to enter. Thoughts flooded my mind. I’ve entered contests before and wasn’t selected. But this time I might win, especially since I’ve been published. Jesus, please let me be chosen. I wrote and rewrote my stories. Following the advice of a wise and talented writer, I “slept” on the stories, and then reread them later. I got feedback. Finally I sent them in. After the deadline passed,…

NATHANAEL MUST HAVE BEEN STARTLED that Jesus was aware of his physical location and situation and even more surprised that He knew the state of his heart. Yet the recognition of all that Jesus knew is what led Nathanael to proclaim Jesus as the Son of God and king of Israel. It can be difficult to absorb the all-knowing nature of our Savior. My little brain has trouble keeping track of my handful of family and friends, and even then I’m not truly aware of every need, longing, or dream in their hearts. Can Jesus really know each of us intimately? Does He really hear our every prayer? One afternoon, my husband and I drove out into the country, enjoying a brilliant sunny day. As we drove past home after…

I’M OFTEN PERPLEXED BY POLLS that ask, “Do you consider yourself a Christian?” For many people, that question is different than if asked, “Are you a Christ follower?” Not that Jesus pays attention to opinion polls or census results (although a census was a key plot point at the time of His birth. See Luke 2:1–2). But if He did, I can imagine His face when reading the percentage of people who checked the box marked “Christian.” “Hmm. News to Me.” Those who “consider themselves” Christians because it seems the most fitting of the options—who see it as a label rather than a lifestyle, an affiliation rather than a life-altering commitment—may be among those referred to in today’s verse. They “turn” to Jesus the Lord, following Him with their lips…

I SMILED AND ASKED THE customer, “How are you today?” “Fine,” she answered curtly. Her face, however, told a different story. You could see her sadness. The woman was frowning and looked heartbroken. Maybe she’s just having a bad day, I thought. She continued to come into the pharmacy about twice a week, but I could never get her to smile, no matter how hard I tried. “Why is she always sad?” I asked a coworker. “Something happened that broke her heart and she never got over it,” she answered. That evening as I read my Bible, I kept thinking about that lady. Jesus wants us to be joyful, and she’s let something steal her joy. The joy we receive from Jesus is mentioned throughout the Bible, so I read…

OIL AND WATER DON’T MIX; neither do faith and worry. Years ago, my husband’s job was in jeopardy. Clay’s company was undergoing reorganization. A third of the workforce was being laid off. He was in line to be laid off next. We had three children and had recently purchased a new home. Worry hung like a dark cloud above us, blocking out the sunlight. We didn’t want to live in fear, so we decided to turn our worry over to Jesus and have faith in Him. In return, He filled us with peace and the knowledge that He would sustain us. Our faith was recently tested again when I decided to retire. Clay and I made this difficult decision after months of prayer. A few days after my retirement, our…

SOMETIMES WHEN I’M FACING A difficult situation, I think back to when I started using alcohol to help ease my stress. At eighteen, I used it to escape, to help me relax, and to feel more comfortable when I went out with friends. As time passed, my reliance on alcohol grew into an everyday habit. Maybe you’ve never struggled with alcohol, but we all have different coping mechanisms. Whether it’s overeating, shopping sprees, overusing prescription drugs, spending too much time on social media, or binge watching television shows, we’re all looking for a way to cope with life’s pain. Twenty years ago, while pregnant, I stopped drinking for a season, so I wouldn’t hurt my baby. But after my daughter stopped nursing, I slowly started drinking wine again. As my…

I’M THANKFUL THAT GOD SPEAKS to me in various ways, especially when I need direction or confirmation. Sometimes I read a Bible passage and the Holy Spirit helps me see its connection to my current situation. Or when I listen to an online sermon as I do my chores, I sense Jesus speaking to me personally. Such was the case when the preacher I was listening to one morning talked about taking care of aging parents. The preacher mentioned the example of one of Jesus’s closest disciples, John. During His last hours on the cross, Jesus entrusted His mother Mary to John. Jesus made sure that His beloved disciple would provide for and protect His beloved mother. The preacher observed that children may take care of their aging parents, but…

I LOVE READING THE NEW Testament stories about Jesus healing people and how their lives changed on the spot. I also like to read testimonies of people today who receive immediate healing after praying for a miracle. But often, healing is a process, sometimes a long one. Besides physical problems, a broken heart takes time to mend, a ruptured relationship takes time to be restored. But just as in the account of the leper, the first step is always a touch from Jesus. His compassion and power can make the impossible happen. Since Jesus is no longer physically on the earth, He calls us to be His hands to the hurting. He expects us to feel the same compassion that moved Him to respond to the needs of those around…

MY THREE TEENAGE BOYS ARE constantly trying to talk me into watching scary movies. I will have none of it. I get anxious enough watching the news. There are enough things to be scared about in this world without watching terrifying cinema. The older I get, the easier it is to give in to fear. Fear. Such a small word with such an enormous impact. It fills up the fissures of our hearts and the nooks and crannies of our minds. Fear will take up any and all space that we give it in our lives. I know this because I have battled with it for so long. But the truth is? There is one person who has conquered fear. His name is Jesus, and He has an alternative to…

MY SON, STAR QUARTERBACK IN junior high, is now the newbie on the high school team. He’s learning to navigate bigger defensive players, bigger stakes, and bigger egos. Instead of being the team leader, he’s playing behind a senior All-State quarterback who, thankfully, is also a friend. One thing he’s noticed is that the biggest guy on the team messes with people in a way that’s not always nice. It’s surprised him that the others allow it. We’ve been talking about ways to handle that. The other day in practice the big guy kept mouthing off at the quarterback. Apparently this happens a lot, but usually the quarterback just tunes it out in order to keep the peace. I guess this time he’d had enough. He turned to the guy…

EARLY ONE SATURDAY MORNING, I asked the Lord to guide me in all that I do. Immediately I thought of going to the wet market to buy fresh fish. In Asia, a typical wet market has stalls for fish, poultry, fruits, and vegetables. Vendors store fish in makeshift tanks or iceboxes, which makes the market slightly wet. I don’t usually go to the wet market on Saturday, preferring the grocery store instead, but since my son and daughter were home for the weekend, I thought I’d prepare a special dish for them. I was planning to buy ordinary fish to make a sour stew, but to my surprise, I found salmon heads, which are rarely sold in the neighborhood wet market. I bought about two pounds and cooked them in…

I WAS IN A STORE looking at furniture when I was interrupted by a storm of profanity coming from an office near where I was standing. A man was yelling and cursing. A few minutes later he stepped out of the office into the showroom. Unaware that I had overheard him, he smiled and greeted me: “Hello. How are you today?” I immediately recognized him from a friend’s church. He was a member of the praise team and sang every Sunday. “Have a blessed day,” he called out as I was leaving the store. On the way to my car, I thought about what I’d just experienced. How can a Christian talk and act that way? What a hypocrite, I thought. Then I felt Jesus talking to me, How do…

MY HUSBAND LIKES TO KEEP the television tuned to a news station a few hours each day. He watches it before work, during his lunch break at home, and in the evenings. Don’t get me wrong—I do want to stay informed about what’s going on in the world; I need to know how to pray concerning current events. But sometimes the video clips of evil and violent acts being played over and over get to me. I start to feel unsettled and anxious. During those times it helps to remember some of Christ’s final words before His crucifixion. In New Testament times, a typical way to say goodbye was “peace” or “shalom.” To the Jews, this meant more than the absence of conflict, stress, or war. It implied the blessings…

THERE ARE DAYS THAT MY students frustrate me mightily. They can’t answer questions about material we’ve covered for several weeks or worse, they don’t do their assignments. They forget paper or pencils. They don’t write their names on their papers. They daydream and don’t pay attention or they talk too much. Sometimes they can be pretty disrespectful. As I was griping about all this one day to a friend, Jesus brought something to my attention. Sometimes I’m guilty of the same behavior. I zone out at professional development meetings. I forget my work tools sometimes. Occasionally I talk in meetings while the presenter is speaking. I laughed because sometimes I can be just as spacey as my students! After that little chastising from Jesus, I decided that I needed to…

THIS MORNING I WOKE UP to crazy headlines—again. Foreign wars and carnage. Refugees clamoring for safe haven. Political strife. Financial difficulties. Undercurrents of discontentment. I have been feeling as if I should chuck my phone straight out the window. Maybe that would make the crazy go away. Instead, I have taken to reading the Psalms to still my soul. When it feels as if the world is plummeting like a rock toward the fiery pit, the Psalms always bring me back from the edge. They put everything back into perspective. The world has always been the world. Wild. Unpredictable. And broken. And Jesus has always been Jesus. Steadfast. Faithful. Powerful. The Psalms remind me of what is real. Verses such as “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High…

I LOOKED OVER MY SON’S homework as he computed a problem aloud and then wrote the answer on the math sheet. “That’s illegible,” I noted. Without skipping a beat, he pointed his pencil at me, winked, and flashed a winning smile. “That’s because I’m an illegible bachelor!” I wish I could have that kind of confidence and easy sense of humor when I made a mistake or was having difficulty getting my point across! I love that my son feels eligible—in the sense that he knows Jesus loves him! My son is truly and delightfully lovable, and he knows it. Of course I was also pleased that he rewrote his answer so that the teacher could actually read it when he handed it in the next day. But with his…

MY CHILDREN WERE STUDENTS WHEN the “See You at the Pole” movement started in the nineties. Each September on the fourth Wednesday, I dropped them off early to pray with their classmates before school. After our nest emptied, I forgot about the event—until early one September morning when my daughter, Holly, texted me a photo of her little boy Roman, leaning against a flagpole. Roman wasn’t just the only kindergartner to show up; he was the only one from the school. But Holly reported that Roman prayed “a sweet prayer” for his school and country. That photo reminds me that sometimes following Jesus means standing alone—as His disciples learned. It would’ve been easy to go with the crowd who followed Jesus into Jerusalem, waving palm branches and shouting, “Hosanna!” But…

WHAT A MESS! I’D DROPPED an open jar of spaghetti sauce on the kitchen island. Somehow the glass hadn’t broken, but the sloppy red goo was everywhere. Globs spread across the floor, splattered the cabinets, and even sprayed the ceiling. A massive cleanup job filled my immediate future. Grabbing cloths, a mop, and a bucket, I set to work. Soon the splashed portions of the floor, cabinets, and ceiling shone like they hadn’t in years. I discovered a new problem. The untouched areas had seemed fine previously, but now the fresh-cleaned spots made them appear dirty. I’d have to deep-clean the entire room. As I mature in faith, I sense Jesus doing the same work in me. He’s washing impure and self-centered behaviors away. When He finishes with one area…

MY FATHER COULDN’T JOIN OUR family vacation abroad because of his fear of flying. He was close to tears when my mother, siblings, and nephews were about to leave for the airport, and remained speechless, unable to wish them a safe and happy trip. His physical condition also made it difficult for him to travel. Though our family wanted to take him on the trip, we thought it best he not go, so I stayed home and took care of my father while our family traveled. A few hours after their departure, my father urged me to check and see if my brother had posted pictures of their trip on Facebook. When I showed my dad the photos, he smiled and commented about my mother, who was wearing a thermal…

WHEN I WAS A YOUNG mother, there was always too much to do and too little time in which to do it. Between working, cleaning the house, running errands, cooking, doing the laundry, taking the children to their activities, and shopping, as well as being a wife and mother, I was always busy. I just didn’t have much time for Jesus. I felt like a gerbil running inside a wheel, constantly running but never going anywhere. I was overwhelmed and frustrated. On Sundays, I was either too tired or too busy to go to church. But as much as I loved my family, friends, and hectic life, I knew there was something missing. One night, feeling tired and empty, I reached out to Jesus. I knew that He needed to…

AS MY HUSBAND DROVE THROUGH heavy traffic on the interstate, I turned to look at the cars behind us. When I turned back around, the side-view mirror caught my eye. Then I looked at the vehicles behind us again. “Well, I’ll be!” I exclaimed. “The objects in this mirror are closer than they appear.” Through decades of driving, I’d seen those exact words on the mirror without ever stopping to think about what it meant—that the mirror did not give an accurate view of the traffic behind my car. I shuddered to think how my lack of understanding could’ve easily caused a wreck. Like that side-view mirror, my eyes often don’t give an accurate view of what I see around me. My vision can be clouded by many things—preconceived ideas,…

FOR WEEKS, I’D BEEN PRAYING for my friend. She was far from home, staying near a university hospital where her son was being treated for a complex and devastating disease. One day she emailed and said, “I could’ve never imagined that I’d experience this.” Another friend with a disabled child expressed this same feeling. There were still blessings to be found, but her new reality shifted her idea of what day-to-day life would be and required daily adjustments. Have you ever felt the wave of unreality? My friends never expected the turns their lives would take. As someone with boundless energy and enthusiasm for life, I likewise never could have imagined I’d find myself in the wasteland of chronic illness that steals so much of my daily function. Yet here…

SUNDAY MORNING CAME, AND I did not rise singing. I grumbled over my bowl of cereal, when I considered my plight. Saturday had been busy and did not leave me time to finish the laundry, clean the house, buy groceries, or write. My mind was fixed. This Sunday, the dirty clothes, messy house, and grocery list would have to wait. I decided to skip church and make writing my priority due to a pressing deadline that was before me. My mother called as I sat at my desk and powered on the computer. It was her regular Sunday call and during our brief conversation, she asked, “Are you going to church today?” In that instant, the pointed question made me reconsider why I was staying home. Didn’t I need a…

“LET’S EAT OUT,” I SAID to my father. There was a new mall nearby, and I thought taking him there would ward off loneliness and boredom. Even though he hadn’t said anything, I knew he missed my mother. He rose from his rocking chair to get dressed and when he came out in a shirt and walking shorts, he returned to his rocking chair and gently asked me to clip his toenails. I can’t recall a time when Papa ever asked me to clip his nails. But when I was younger, he would ask me to pluck the white hairs from his scalp, and I would, though impatiently. But now I kneeled, reached out for his feet, and started trimming each of his tough nails. As I did, I imagined…

DO YOU EVER FEEL LIKE you’re running on empty? Perhaps like the widow at Zarephath, your cupboards are bare and your bank account is empty. Or perhaps you are exhausted from difficult people, conflicts that never resolve, and daily wounds. You may feel like your emotional resources are mere crumbs of flour. Or maybe illness or injury has worn your body down until you stare at the last drops of oil in the jug and wonder how to guard your meager reserves of strength before you collapse. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus encourages us to trust Him in a radical way. He calls us to put His kingdom first and serve others before ourselves. His call can seem almost cruel when we feel empty. I’ve often thought Elijah sounded a bit…

SHE ENTERED THE ROOM, WAVING. Her personality grated on my nerves. I didn’t like her and had no plans to love her. Sitting down beside me, she smiled. “Can we talk? I trust you.” She wanted to talk to me? Jesus’s words slammed into my thoughts, hitting as fast and hard as the stone from David’s slingshot. Love your enemy. I lowered my eyes to the floor. When had I come to equate “different” with bad? Why had I focused on our differences instead of our similarities? I hurried to beg Jesus’s forgiveness. Taking a deep breath, I returned her gaze. I continued picking logs from my eyes and asked, “How can I help?” I was suddenly surprised to find I truly wanted to help. “Well, you’re a Christian, right?…

BELIEVERS REGARD THIS SCENE AS one of the most beautiful examples of servant-leadership in the Bible. The Son of God got on His hands and knees to wash the dirty, smelly feet of His disciples. He’s giving them His theology in a nutshell. The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve. To give His life as a ransom for all. We get what He did. But do we understand how? Look back at the beginning of the story. Jesus knew who He was. He was secure in His position: knowing that the Father had given Him all things . . . and that He had come from God and was going back to God. I saw a picture of this at a basketball game once. A…

“THE PET SCAN WILL TAKE forty-five minutes to an hour,” the radiology technician told me. “The table will go inside the tube and you’ll have to lay very still. Do you think you can do it?” I’m claustrophobic, and the PET scan tube looked ominous. I inhaled. “I really don’t have a choice,” I answered. I’d been diagnosed with cancer, and I needed more tests. As the table moved inside the tube, I started panicking. Jesus, please, be with me, I prayed. Instantly I remembered hearing that if you prayed for others in alphabetical order, you could distract yourself. So I began with the A’s and prayed for my friend, Alexis, then my daughter-in-law, Ann, and continued praying through the alphabet. Occasionally, I would forget someone and have to go…

SOME WOMEN AT CHURCH WERE talking to a young newlywed couple and reminiscing about when they were first married. “We were so broke! We ate a lot of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and rarely ate out. We learned to rely on Jesus,” one lady said. Another said, “Together we worked hard to get where we are now. It definitely takes two to make a marriage work, and it’s not fifty-fifty. Each person has to give one hundred percent.” They rehashed stories about silly arguments, growing up together, and the struggles of being newlyweds. “We used to argue about whose cooking was worse,” one lady laughed. “Neither of us could cook.” Then one lady said, “It takes three to have a good marriage, the husband, the wife, and Jesus. Each person must give…