What’s in Your Wallet?

By Robin J. Steinweg –

I attended one of those parties. You know, the ones where you can purchase interior décor, candles, jewelry or kitchenware in the comfort of a friend’s home. At this one, the guests were strangers to each other. To break the ice, the hostess had us play a game.

What’s in Your Wallet (or purse)? The owner of the most unusual item would be asked to explain its presence and would win a nifty grapefruit slicer.

It’s surprising what shows up in wallets and purses. Thirty-year-old ticket stubs, dead batteries, used string, a spoon, whistle, needle nosed pliers, shoelaces, an unfinished cross stitch project…

I pulled out a bullet shell-casing. Here’s the story I told as I accepted my prize:
My cousin Jay, a military man, died in his forties. Cousin Edie asked me to sing at his funeral. I carefully avoided giving in to grief so I wouldn’t be a mess when the time came. The graveside ceremony followed, with three rifle volleys, the playing of Taps, and a soldier presenting the folded casket flag to Edie. The family walked back to the church but I lingered a few moments, finally releasing some tears.

Outside the cemetery gates, one of the honor guard huffed to catch up with me. “Ma’am?” I turned around.

“Would you please take this, Ma’am?” He placed the bullet casing into my palm, turned, and trotted back to his outfit. I stood, turning the casing over and over. It was empty.

That’s when the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart. Your cousin is not here. In the casket is only the empty shell that housed him for awhile. Because of his faith in the Son of God, he lives. You will see him again.

I carried that casing around in my purse for years to remind me of Christ’s victory over death. I got to share the gospel of Jesus Christ whenever it rolled out. So now I ask you: What’s in your wallet? Is there something that gives you a reason to talk about what Jesus did for you? Don’t leave home without it.

PRAYER: Lord, what a great hope and future You have for us! Reveal to us if there’s something tangible we can carry with us that might open opportunities to share Your gospel.

“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have” (1 Peter 3:15b).

Today’s devotional is by Robin J. Steinweg. Robin’s life might be described using the game Twister: the colored dots are all occupied, limbs intertwine (hopefully not to the point of tangling), and you never know which dot the arrow will point to next, but it sure is fun getting there!

Survivor Junkie

By Kathy Carlton Willis –

Okay, I admit it. I’m a Survivor junkie! There’s just something about the challenges presented, as well as the rewards—and the raw nature of humanity—that piques my interest. Of course the beautiful scenery of the island also allures me. I’ve learned a lot about what makes people tick by watching this show.

Sadly, the baser sorts of humanity are sometimes represented in this series. We can see how people, left to their own devices, can turn on each other. On this show, competition and strategy are more important to the winning outcome than living by the Golden Rule. And it’s amazing how blind folks can be to their own faults, when viewers at home can plainly see their virtue deficits. Who do they think they are fooling?

In life, do you consider yourself a survivor? A real survivor finds a way to become stronger going through the same trials that might make someone else weaker. On the show, only those who forced themselves to eat, unappetizing as the food choices might be, competed strongly during the challenges. As Christians, we must make sure our power food comes in the form of God’s Word. Sometimes it is sweet like honey, but other times it is bitter like medicine.

Only by allowing God to not just be a part of your life, but be your life can you survive the harshest consequences. God will make sure you are provided for when you completely trust in Him. Technically, trust isn’t trust if it isn’t completely placed. There is no such thing as partial trust!

AUTHOR QUOTE: When it comes time for your tribal counsel experience, it won’t matter who votes you off the island. It won’t matter what you’ve done in the sun, but what you have done with the Son!

“But those who obey God’s word truly show how completely they love him. That is how we know we are living in him” (1 John 2:5 TLT).

Today’s devotional is by Kathy Carlton Willis, Christ-servant, wife to Russ, editor, publicist, certified CLASSeminars speaker and faculty member. Kathy Carlton Willis Communications encompasses her many passions. Kathy’s tagline captures her essence—Light & Lively: His Reflection/Her Laughter. Schedule Kathy for a speaking event or contact her firm for promotional assistance. KCWC gets jazzed shining the light on God’s writers and speakers.

Dying with Laughter

By Emily Parke Chase –

Beauty shops would curl up and face permanent ruin if they depended on customers like me for profits. I cut my own hair. I wear no make-up. My fingernails are short and stubby. My most recent experience (fifteen years ago?) with having my hair done professionally resulted in a wild tornado of hair that rivaled anything a half-hour ride in my clothes drier could produce. I arrived home from the beauty parlor fifteen minutes before my children got off the school bus. Afraid that they might mistake me for a raving maniac, I jumped in the shower and had safely returned to my suburban cookie-baking-mom alter ego by the time they walked in the door.

You can thus imagine my surprise when my friend Charise approached me about leading a Bible study for a group of her beautician friends all of whom worked in local salons. Charise sells shampoos, dyes, and other supplies to beauty salons all over our area. She also shares her faith openly and had personally led several of these women to faith in Christ. “Would you be willing to disciple them?”

The first time I walked into the room with these women, I felt I stood out like a cowlick on bald head. Their tresses were styled and gelled. Each cuticle was neatly tucked away and every eyebrow plucked. Each lip was carefully outlined and glossed. The only element out of place was me.

The first lesson was on grace: They accepted me.

At the end of that initial class, I gave the women an assignment to complete at home.

“Homework?” Charise gasped. The women looked at each other in consternation.

My expectation that they would do the assignment shocked them as much as their manicures awed me, but over the next months we began to relax and enjoy our times together. We studied scripture. We laughed as they shared stories from their salons. And we prayed for each other.

One day we were meeting in the home of Debbie. The shrill ring of a phone interrupted our study, and Debbie excused herself to answer the call in the kitchen. A few minutes later she burst into the room. “Praise the Lord!” she shouted to everyone. “I’ve got five corpses!”

The other women exploded with excitement and crowded near to congratulate her.

I sat back in astonishment. What was going on? Were my friends part of some secret Aztec cult that sacrificed beating hearts on an altar? What kind of group rejoices over five corpses?

Charise looked over at me and observed my confusion. Smothering her laughter and recovering her breath, she explained that fixing the hair, nails and make-up of a person who had died brought in extra income. A corpse could be prepped at the stylist’s convenience, after normal business hours, even at midnight. And the best part? These clients never complained about how long the beautician took or if she pulled a hair or two too tight. Five corpses was a windfall for my friend.

Me? I still cut my own hair. I still don’t use lipstick or foundation. So when I die, don’t allow someone to paint me like Madonna. My new friends would die with laughter.

“Charm is deceptive, and beauty disappears, but a woman who honors the Lord should be praised” (Proverbs 31:30 GNB).

(See Emily for yourself! Visit the author at www.emilychase.com.)

It’ll Flatten Out Eventually

By Cynthia Ruchti –

So I’m hiking through the woods in Alaska and…

I’ve never written a line like that before. But there I was, following a guide over narrow trails that led up—and I mean UP—the cliffs around a glacial lake near Skagway.

When my husband and I signed on for this combination hike-and-float excursion, no one told us it would test our hearts’ ability to keep from exploding. Or our lungs’ desire to slip through our ribcage and run for cover.

No one told us, “It would probably be best if you were in good shape, underweight, and athletically inclined,” none of which matched our description.

I longed for the guide to list a few more points of interest while we stood clumped on a relatively flat part of the trail. My heart rate had only returned from nuclear meltdown to danger zone when he said, “Let’s keep moving. This next section of the trail is pretty steep. Watch your step.”

Too many minutes later, the guide motioned us to another clearing so he could show us what the bear had eaten recently.

“It’s pretty steep here yet for a while…”

Okay. Jesus, I’ll be seeing You soon. Looking forward to it.

“But the trail will eventually flatten out. The last third is fairly level land as we work our way along the shore to our put-in point for the raft.”

Level. I definitely heard the word level. The trail will eventually flatten out. Those words became my theme song as I hauled my sorry carcass over the rocks and roots and up the torturous path. I would have quit. Any number of times. But I didn’t want to look like a sissy, for one. And two, how would the others have gotten my body back to civilization? Just give me a shove and roll me down the cliff face? No thanks.

I took another step and another and another because of the promise that the trail would eventually flatten out.

And that’s how we keep going after grief crushes us or disappointment slices us open or the path turns so steep we can’t breathe.

God promised that the trail would eventually flatten out. We can make it that far. Then He will—as my husband did—put His arm around us and say, “What a trooper!”

Looking forward to it.

PRAYER: Lord, I’m clinging to Your promise that the trail will eventually flatten out. Could I ride on Your shoulders until it does?

“The Lord upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all those that be bowed down” (Psalm 145:14 KJV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer/producer of THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME radio ministry and president of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—released with Abingdon Press May 1, 2010–http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtZb0by984g. Cynthia writes stories of Hope-that-glows-in-the-dark (www.cynthiaruchti.com).

Yeah, That’s the Ticket

By Jane Thornton –

Hearty hoots of laughter drew me from my bedroom lair into the living room where my husband Wes watched television. As I peeped around the door facing, I heard Jon Lovitz’ smarmy claim, “I’m married to…Morgan Fairchild…yeah, that’s the ticket…Morgan Fairchild.” I had to plop down on the couch and enjoy his SNL liar character for the hundredth time.

Sad that we find humor in deceit. Maybe because we think our lies pale in comparison to the exaggerated comedian.

Several years ago, Wes and I blithely signed up for the His Needs, Her Needs marriage seminar, thinking we would bond with some other couples and enrich our already delightful union. Both results occurred, but the enrichment came by means of some painful soul-searching—most of it on my side, but we’ll save that for another article. Wes got smacked upside the head by the chapter on lying.

Please don’t get me wrong; he is the soul of integrity, but he had to fess up to a dubious foible. One week, the husbands were to examine themselves to see if they were born liars, avoid trouble liars, or protective liars. (Please see Willard Harley’s excellent book for a complete explanation.)

I was quite proud when Wes reported back that he was none of the above. I beamed with gratification. Then he clarified. He had determined he was a lazy liar. He would give in to the temptation to fib or avoid complete openness because he just didn’t want to mess with the ensuing barrage of questions from me. Ouch.

One of my students faced an ouch lesson of his own this week. After I had called out the vocabulary words for a test, I tracked the room like the proverbial menacing shark. My gaze fell upon the hunched shoulders of a teen as his arms created a protective circle around his paper, unusual test-taking posture, suspicious, in fact. Sure enough, he had his vocabulary list tucked under the test paper. His cheating earned an unchangeable zero and a firm lecture on honesty.

I remember the temptation clearly. My senior year in high school, I finished my government test and placed it face down on the corner of my desk. The need to check a few answers itched until I pulled out my folder and scanned my notes. Frustration surged when I realized I’d made the wrong choice on a simple question. Arms folded in self-disgust, I scrunched in my chair waiting for time to be called.

My angst-filled eyes took in the fact that my teacher had not seen me check my notes. Discreetly, I flipped my paper, changed my answer, and replaced the test, no one the wiser.

Except God.

Immediately His Spirit convicted me, “The truth will set you free” (John 8:32b NIV). I must admit to pangs of regret as I changed my answer back to the wrong one. However, although I endured great mockery by friends who thought such honesty was extreme and foolish, I still consider that repentance a proud moment. Too bad it’s not the norm instead of the cause of pride. God is still working on me.

“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much” (Luke 16:10 NIV).

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