Starry Night

By Heather Arbuckle –

I have always loved a starry night.

When I was a little girl, growing up in Iowa, I had a view of the heavens that I sadly took for granted. On clear nights, I often looked up at the stars blinking back at me and tried to find the brightest one so I could make a wish.

As time marched on, I grew into a teenager, and I continued to look to the night sky. But, my thoughts turned away from childish wishes. Instead, I looked up and dreamed of tomorrow as I wondered quietly where my life was going. When an occassional falling star streamed across the sky, my heart jumped in excitement as I pondered the surprises yet to come.

Now, as a woman of faith, I still gaze at the stars with the same wonder as that girl from years past. The stars, with their simplistic beauty, have been a constant reminder to me that I belong to a great and wondrous God. For, in His great might, the LORD made the stars. (Genesis 1:16) And when I take them in, and consider the vast number of stars visible and not so visible, I am certain that He is mindful of me.  For, God has seen it all and loved me through it all.

At times, I have been prone to doubt, as life pounded me in loss. Still, the stars in their constancy served as a beautiful reminder that He hears me. Knows me. Loves me. Delivers me. He sees me the same way I see those beautiful stars in a clear Iowa sky. For Him, I shine in the darkness of this world as I courageously live out my faith this side of Heaven.

Last week, I visited my parents’ home in Iowa. So many things are the same, including the sky that beckons me when I am there. One dark, starry night, I laid on a blanket with my son, Jack, and took in the beauty of a clear summer night in Iowa. Without the illumination of city lights, we were able to vividly experience God’s splendor in the heavens.

Together, we found the brightest star, made a wish, and searched for constellations as we talked about Jack’s dreams for the future. Truly, it was a night I shall hold close to my heart for all the years to come. How I hope that Jack carries the stars with him as he steps slowly into manhood.

Maybe, one day, my son will look for the brightest star on a clear summer night and think of me. More than that, I hope that when Jack sets his attention on the beauty of the stars, he will remember the constant love of his Heavenly Father, who never ceases to be mindful of his needs. I pray those stars draw my son ever closer to our God…who placed the stars in their places just because He is and He can. May he always feel God’s presence in the serene beauty of a starry night.

Fearing Shadows

By Jarrod Spencer –

Light brings good feelings. The sun coming up in the morning reminds us that a new day is dawning. Lights coming back on after they went out due to power failure allows us to feel safe again. You could probably think about other instances where light has made someone feel good.

An additional fact about light is that light causes shadows. My question for you is this: Do you fear shadows? A shadow can easily cause fear, but Author Ruth E. Renkel suggests this about shadows, “Never fear shadows. They simply mean there’s a light somewhere nearby.”

The system of sacrifices in the Old Testament has been referenced to being a “shadow” of what Christ does for us in the New Testament. Based on the inabilities found in the sacrificial system, it would be easy to “fear” them. As the sacrificial system was such a system that required many, many sacrifices to be completed throughout one’s life.

If those in the Old Testament knew that Christ’s death meant never having to sacrifice again, they wouldn’t have “feared” these sacrifices, because those sacrifices simply meant that Christ (i.e. the Light) was somewhere nearby!

May we revel in the idea that we have the Light to “walk in” (I John 1:7) and a “light” to illuminate our path (Psalm 119:105)! So remember not to fear shadows because a light (of comfort) is nearby!

I hope you have a great end of your week!

Walking the lighted path…

PRAYER: Thank You, Father, that You are always nearby. I am eternally grateful that Your Spirit is always with me. Through Your spirit, You are just a prayer away. Father, thank You for being a light in my life and Your Word, a light on my path.

BIBLE VERSE: “The law is only a shadow of the good things that are coming — not the realities themselves. For this reason it can never, by the same sacrifices repeated endlessly year after year, make perfect those who draw near to worship. 2 If it could, would they not have stopped being offered? For the worshipers would have been cleansed once for all, and would no longer have felt guilty for their sins. 3 But those sacrifices are an annual reminder of sins, 4 because it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10:1-4 NIV).

Not the Apple of My Eye

By Emily M. Akin –

I hate apples. Not because they were used to tempt Eve in the Garden of Eden. I hate them because I was over-exposed to them in childhood. I wouldn’t call it a traumatic experience, but it was close.

My grandmother, who lived right next door, had an apple orchard. It produced enough apples to feed all the world’s starving children and armies combined. But, we had to eat them or preserve them with no help from the rest of the world.

When apple-picking time arrived, all the kids in the family were enlisted to pick, transport and preserve the apples—thousands of them. Peeling, coring, cooking, slicing, drying—it went on for days on end. We ate apples sauced, baked, spiced, canned and chopped in salads. Apples were on the ground around the trees, in baskets on the porch, soaking in salt-water baths or waiting to be cooked. Even the top of the well house sported a layer of cored sliced apples drying in the sun.

I tried feeding some to the cows, but they were not interested. The apple orchard was also their pasture, so I guess they were tired of them too. Finally, I realized that I would be going back to school soon. The apple harvest could continue without me, and I would get a break from handling and eating apples.

On the first day of school, I picked up my lunch tray and started down the line. (Back then, you ate what they served, no picking and choosing allowed.) When I glanced down at my tray, my mouth fell open. In the little pocket on the left was Waldorf salad with little red apple peels peeking out at me. Where did they come from? Oh, no! My grandparents had sold their excess apples to the school lunch program.

Years later, when my budget was tight, I would have welcomed a basket of free apples. Why do we not to appreciate our abundance when times are good? Like the Israelites in the desert, we complain that we have too much of one thing or not enough of another (Numbers 11:4-6).

I still choose the “un-apple” when offered a choice among the fruits. And, I admit I hold some resentment in my heart for Johnny Appleseed. I mean, what motivated him to force apples on everyone? But, I’ve wised up. If apples are the only thing on the menu, I thank God for what He has provided.

Endsummer Night’s Dream

By Jane Thornton –

A tall, lanky teen swaggers across the classroom. His defiant eyes dare me to stop his trek. “Check this out!” another boy hollers. A paper wad arcs over three rows of students. Ricocheting off the rim of the beige metal trash can, it bounces to litter the mottled blue carpet. Hoots of laughter mock the clowning thrower.

“Class, I need your attention, please.” My feeble words search for listeners in vain.

Crackling paper snaps my attention to the back corner. Earphones implanted, head swaying, a girl munches on Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

Weaving through the desks, I hold out my hand. “No eating in class.”

With her audacious gaze glued to mine, the girl tilts the bag to her mouth, shakes out the last crumbs, scrunches the wrapper, and drops it in my hand. “I’m done. You can throw it away.”

My fogged brain grapples for her name—blank. “That will be a discipline step,” I bark out the threat.

“Ooooh, a discipline step.” Ridicule swathes her retort.

At my hip, a neighboring student snickers. I turn my dire gaze in a new direction. The blonde hunches over her cell phone, thumbs flying.

“I’ll take that.” I jab my palm out over her desk.

She pockets the device and raises limpid eyes. “What?”

Hilarity ripples across the room. Heat flushes through my body. My heart thuds against my chest. Names. I need their names. Why don’t I know their names?

My breath catches, and I wake, sweaty and panicked. Relief floods over me. Only a dream. Then dread and doubt trickle back. I start to pray.

As summer draws to a close, this sequence hits many teachers. Our worst nightmare—a classroom out of control and a personality turned ineffective. I’ve never had a first day like the one I imagine and dread. However, in spite of years of students filing into class cooperatively, each August those fears haunt my dreams and taunt my insecurities.

The details may differ, but I’ve heard of similar attacks on most people. “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8b NIV). Worry is one of his best tools. Anxiety leaches joy out of the day.

When I listen to the Spirit’s whispers, I can take the devil’s assault of my sleep and use it to rest in God’s peace. Satan made me imagine the worst; now I cast it on Him (1 Peter 5:7) and claim God’s promise:  “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7 NIV).

Don’t fret about this verse as a command; rejoice in the assurance it offers when we trust Him.

Comment Prompt:  Share a time when you dreaded something. Did it turn out better or worse than you expected?

Da-Da Fix It

By Susan Dollyhigh –

“Broke,” my grandson, Drew, said as he held up his red Matchbox car in one hand and a set of wheels in another. I watched as a frown furrowed Drew’s forehead while he turned the car over and tried to snap the wheels back into place.

With all of the manual dexterity of a two-year-old, Drew worked to replace the wheels on the underside of his small car. But, it soon became evident, even to Drew, that this problem was too difficult for him. I expected Drew to become frustrated, perhaps cry or maybe even throw his toy down, but he walked over and calmly placed it on the coffee table; looked over at Amy, his mama, and said, “Da-Da fix it.”

Drew left his broken car on the table and turned around to play with something else.

“Whenever something breaks,” Amy said, “Drew just puts it down and says, ‘Da-Da fix it.’ He thinks his Daddy can fix anything.”

I have many things in life that I hold up and say, “Broke.” Relationships, finances, health – “broke.”  A frown furrows my forehead while I try to put the pieces of my life back together.

With all the spiritual maturity of my fifty-four years, I work to fix my problems until it becomes evident that they are too difficult for me. Unlike Drew, sometimes I do become frustrated, cry and even throw up my hands in despair.

Yet the Lord tells us to give him our broken pieces; to place them at the foot of the cross, walk away, and have enough faith to say, my Heavenly Father will fix it. I know He can fix anything.

PRAYER: Heavenly Father, thank You for loving us and hearing us when we cry out to You. Thank You for being close to us when we are brokenhearted. Thank You for the promise of delivering us from all our troubles.

BIBLE VERSE: “The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all” (Psalm 34:17 – 19 NIV).

 

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