White Knuckle Ride

By Karen O’Connor –

What fun it was for Amy to be invited to lead women’s groups to London on a tour of tearooms. Not only was she tickled to have this opportunity – something she felt God had planted in her mind years before – but she enjoyed being with a group of women who had never been on such a trip before. Their laughter and exclamations made all the preparation worthwhile. For many this was a vacation of a lifetime.

Most of the women were middle-aged and older, and at a point in life where they had time to appreciate the lovely British tradition of High Tea and to enjoy the various cultural differences between the English and the Americans. One special attraction in the city was the famous double-decker buses.

Amy recalled with a smile the first group she took. “None of the ladies had been to England before so everything was new and they were like little kids, taking in the sights and sounds as though they were at an amusement park.” That is until something happened that set her back. “As group leader, it was my fault in a way,” she added. “I realized later that I didn’t spend enough time going over the instructions. Now that I’m planning another trip I must take care of that oversight.”

One afternoon, the women had gathered at the street curb, eager for their first ride on one of the double deckers. “As we boarded the bus, most of the gals decided to sit downstairs to be out of the damp weather and to protect their hair from the wind. A few, however, were brave enough to sit on the top deck. I split my time between both so neither group would feel left out. I wanted to be certain everyone heard what I had to say.

“The women downstairs were attentive and happy and asked me some observant questions. When I walked up the stairs to speak to those on the upper level, however, I noticed my passengers were sitting like soldiers on alert. Not a word was spoken and most of them clutched the seats in front of them. It appeared to
be a white knuckle ride!

“Is anything wrong?” I asked. “We’re having a great time downstairs, but you don’t appear to be enjoying yourselves.”

One of the ladies looked up at me with a touch of fear in her eyes. “Well,” she said, in a small voice, “that’s because you have a driver!”

Spring Has Sprung—Time for Some ‘Scrubbing’

By Dawn Wilson –

I read that one woman who hates housework said she doesn’t do spring cleaning because she loves all the seasons and doesn’t want the others to get jealous.

My mom believed in spring cleaning. Me? Not so much.

I mean, I’m the woman who—knowing company is coming a week before Christmas—piles all the out-of-place junk and papers in the house in one corner of the living room, throws a red tablecloth over all of it, and pins on a sign that reads, “Christmas wrapping underway. Do not peek!”

Spring cleaning is not my cup of … Lysol.

It seems there is always something more pressing and exciting than house cleaning. There are articles to write, messages to prepare, cookies to bake, grandchildren to entertain—fun stuff. And secretly, I think I’ve always wondered why it’s only women who do all the spring cleaning anyway. Is spring cleaning hormonal?

Still, I have to admit that when I don’t take a little time for housecleaning, then other things that I love to do are almost impossible to enjoy. Beyond my fear that Sister Cecilia might stop by for a visit and see the inch of crud on my kitchen floor, the truth is, when my desk is out of order, I can’t find the notes I need. When the laundry piles up, I can’t find something clean to wear. When my carpet looks like it’s shag—but it’s not—I don’t feel free to invite in the neighbors.

Likewise, when I don’t take time to set my heart in order, I can’t really enjoy the blessings of God. He is my faithful Father, and His abundant gifts continue to flow into my life; but I may not see or appreciate them if I’m blinded by my grimy attitudes or grungy behavior. Sinful “stuff” gets in the way, zapping out the joy.

Sometimes I forget the promise of 1 John 1:9. Other times, I take the power of those words for granted. “If we confess [admit] our sins,” the scripture says, “he [God] is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (ESV).

Repentance, confession, and cleansing aren’t a once-and-I’m-done proposition relegated to the day I received Christ. These spiritual disciplines are needed every day, and spending time in the Word of God exposes new areas that need some “scrubbing” (Psalm 119:9, 11).

Proverbs 4:23 warns me to guard my heart with diligence, because the heart is the wellspring of life. Just as a glass of clear water that sits for a long time becomes stagnant unless the water is replaced and refreshed from a running faucet, even so my heart needs constant “refreshing” with the cleansing water of the Word of God.

So this spring I’m trying something new. With every spring cleaning task, I’m going to apply some related “spiritual cleaning” as I meditate on the truth of scripture.

For example, when I wash my windows and mirrors, I’ll consider whether people can see Christ in me (John 12:21b). When I clean out the junk drawer or overstuffed closet, I’ll consider what might be in my life that needs tossing (Hebrews 12:1). When I wash my floors or steam clean my rugs, I’ll ponder my walk with Christ (Proverbs 4:26).

With a fresh, focused perspective on clean living, my prayer echoes King David’s in Psalm 51:10: “Create in me a clean heart, O God.”

It’s time for some “scrubbing!”

Better Than a Sprinkle Cupcake

By Elaine James –

With great anticipation, I held up the milk chocolate cupcake and bit into it. I have died and gone to heaven, I thought. My mouth was bursting with the rich taste of chocolate and the cake was unbelievably moist! Now I know why their ad reads “Sprinkles gourmet cupcakes are a deliciously sophisticated update on an American classic, handcrafted from the finest ingredients.” The Los Angeles Times even touted Sprinkles as “The progenitor of the haute cupcake craze.”

How did I end up at Sprinkles Cupcakes? I live in a suburb of Chicago and was having a mother daughter outing with both of my daughters to the city. After lunch at the famous Walnut Room, my daughters blurted out, “Let’s go to Sprinkles Cupcakes for dessert!” Of course, I had to be the coolest mom ever and make this the perfect day. Right?

I pulled up to the curb and my daughters jumped out with me yelling, “Get me milk chocolate!” as they disappeared into the bakery. I chose well, and after finishing the cupcake, I began to process what just occurred. We chose a famous over-priced cupcake bakery and ate the most wonderful sugary delight. But just like that, voila, done!

I soon began to wonder “when can we do this again? Is this how addictions start?” Guilt set in as I reflected on the starving people in Africa. I prayed and thanked God for being able to do such a crazy thing.

I thought of the rich man who Jesus asked to sell everything and follow Him. Could I give up cupcakes if God asked me to? Would I ever love cupcakes or anything else for that matter more than Him? I remembered the day I was teaching from Psalm 63:5 “I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you” (NIV). Those in the class shared of their mouth watering food experiences; then agreed that our undeserved love from God is mightier. We will literally die and go to heaven because of it.

Can you think of the richest food you ever ate? And how does that compare with the way Jesus longs to satisfy you daily? Talk to Him about it He can help you put things into perspective.

In the car that day I heard a strong and present voice. “Elaine, I gave you the cupcake that you loved, I like doing that for you. I know you know that the delight in the cupcake is temporary, but My love for you is for eternity.”

PRAYER: Thank You for sugary delights. I never want to love anything more than You. I need Your help daily.

“Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live” (Psalm 63:3 NIV).

Beauty Unknown and Fleeting

By Peter Lundell –

I recently wrote about a magnificent flower that bloomed on what had been a two-foot-long green stick. I called the flower an orchid. Several kind readers enlightened me that it was in fact an “amaryllis.” Apparently that’s the name of the flower. My wife confirmed it.

Hmmm… I didn’t even know what the flower was, yet I loved it.

There is a lesson in life here: I could appreciate something even though I know nothing about it.

It’s a good thing I don’t have to understand every aspect about something to appreciate it–like good food, computers, my wife, or God.

What are some things in your life that you value even though you don’t understand them?

I’ve studied God a long time, but I’ll never understand him any more than an ant could understand a human. But that’s okay. He loves me anyway.

How many other things in life do you know little about, yet you find beautiful or helpful? The world is full of them.

Back to the amaryllis. As soon as I grew to appreciate their beauty, the flowers withered. They only bloomed a week before they shriveled one by one. “Oh, come on! You need to stay with us longer than that,” I told the flowers. But talking to flowers doesn’t work.

Perhaps one thing that makes beauty valuable to us is that it’s often temporary, like the four seasons, youth, or flowers.

How often have you wished you could hold the sunset a few minutes longer, be young a few years more, feel the overwhelming sense of God’s presence all the time?

My wife just got another green stick; an amaryllis. As I watch it for signs of flowers, she tells me the previous one will bloom again. Maybe next year, maybe sooner. Beauty comes and beauty goes. It’s up to us to cherish it in between.

PRAYER: Lord, the beauty of the world, Your gift to me, surrounds me and amazes me. May my eyes always see and not be blinded by the mad rush of the day. May my heart always receive and not be constricted by worries and cares. When Your beauty comes to me, my hands are open.

“From Zion, perfect in beauty, God shines forth” (Psalm 50:2, NIV).

Quite a Spectacle

By Karen O’Connor –

As I slip on my sunglasses today I’m reminded of how they might just as easily still be in Burlington, Ontario, Canada.

I walked out of Community Presbyterian Church one Sunday morning in April––the day before my appearance on the Canadian television program, 100 Huntley Street, fresh from the inspiring sermon, and delighting in the brisk morning air. I felt free, excited, and eager for what lay ahead.

I exchanged my clear glasses for sunglasses. Then I pulled on my warm jacket to shield myself from the wind. I thrust my hands into the side pockets––checking, as my husband Charles has taught me to do––for each item I had brought with me. I had left my purse behind in the hotel room.

Kleenex™ tissues. Room key. Identification. Check! Check! Check! All there—except my prescription glasses. Where were they? I had been wearing them just a moment before. I was certain I had returned them to my pocket after putting on my sunglasses. I couldn’t lose them. Not now. Not in a foreign country.

“What did you do?” I drilled myself.

I retraced my steps over the half-block from the church to where I was now standing. Back and forth I walked, looking at every square inch of pavement, in the street gutter, around bushes, under tall clumps of weeds. I might have appeared to be a spy or a detective to anyone passing by.

My glasses were gone. Out of sight. Vanished.

I rushed back to the church and checked in and around the pew where I had sat. Then I dashed to the hotel to be sure I had really taken them with me. Maybe I hadn’t been wearing them after all. By that point I didn’t know what to believe. This was more than a mere senior moment. It was a disaster in the making. I had to have my glasses to see!

Then I became downright giddy. “Hang on, glasses. I know you’re out there somewhere. I will not leave without you. You don’t belong here in Canada. You live with me in the United States.”

I was sure I was losing it by then. I prayed like mad, then returned once again to the route I had taken, and looked at every speck of ground in front, behind, and beside me. I begged God to show me the answer.

Then I felt His counsel––to relax, breathe deeply, walk slowly, look up. And then it happened. I saw my glass case with my glasses snuggled safely inside, sitting on top of a fire hydrant in front of an abandoned cottage.

“Hallelujah!” I shouted right there in the middle of the block on a Sunday morning in Burlington, Ontario, Canada–and I didn’t care who heard me. I kissed the case and slipped it into my pocket, my right hand holding it firmly. Then I nearly skipped all the way back to the hotel.

But it was not until I stopped to thank and praise God that I received the gift He had for me. “Look up, Karen. Up to me. And I will hear and answer you.”

I’m still not sure how my glasses ended up on top of a fire hydrant. Perhaps a kind person found them on the sidewalk and placed them there for the owner to notice. Or maybe I laid them there for a second while I pulled on my coat and switched to my sunglasses. I don’t remember. Nor does it matter. God knows.

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