Bucket of Rocks

By Michelle Lim –

Have you ever tried serving your children a bucket of rocks for supper? Me neither. If we did, there would be a major coup.

Why? Because they come to the table expecting a delicious dinner. The kind of dinner only you can make.

We often go to prayer with the same kind of expectations. We want something amazing from God. We even know just what that is, or so we think.

Let’s take a look at what Jesus said in Matthew 7.

“Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if he asks for fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matt. 7:9-11 NIV)

A year ago I was praying for something that I thought was the best thing for me. God didn’t think so. I read this verse in my devotions and felt rejected. I asked God why when I prayed I only got a bucket full of rocks.

In that prayer time, God showed me something that has changed my view on prayer. You see, I thought I was hungry for a certain thing. . . bread. But if God gave me what I thought that bread was, it wouldn’t feed my hunger.

My real hunger was for more of God in my life. He would feed my real hunger.

It’s like my kids asking for candy for dinner. They might get full, but it wouldn’t feed their need for nourishment. The vitamins and nutrients needed for healthy living.

When I go to God in prayer, He will always feed my real hunger if I ask. There are times when what I ask for really is bread, but often it isn’t what I really hunger for.

Have you thought about what you are really hungry for? Do you blame God when you don’t get what you pray for? Maybe it’s time to stop asking for a bucket full of rocks and believe that God will feed your real hunger.

QUOTE: “God answers first the prayers we should have prayed. ~Robert Brault

Dandelion Deal

By Stephanie Prichard –

Our front yard gleamed with the gold of dandelions. Gold, as in wealth, great riches, money in our pockets! Or so thought my little brother and I, with all the enthusiasm and optimism of a seven-year-old and a ten-year-old.

“I’ll pay you a penny for each dandelion you pick,” Dad said. “But for each dandelion you don’t pick, you pay me a penny.”

What a deal! What an easy deal! I could hardly believe my father would let go of so much money for such little work. All five of us children had household tasks assigned to us, and each nickel and dime was earned by the sweat of our brows. I had to sweep the stairs, wrestle with my parents’ bed each weekend to put on clean sheets, and either set the table every evening or clear it of dirty dishes.

So, goodness, all I had to do now was pick a hundred dandelions and I’d have far more than the eighty cents I earned with my weekly allowance. The yard was full of dandelions—hundreds and hundreds of them. Even with my brother cashing in on the deal, I’d still get three or four hundred picked.

We dashed into the yard and plucked dandelions right and left with both hands. “One, two, three …” I counted fast to keep up with my plucking. At twenty-five, I ran my handful over to my dad. So did my brother. We giggled as we dropped the flowers at his feet. The counting went slower with the next twenty-five. Even slower with the next two handfuls. My fingernails were green underneath, and my palms were yellow.

“I’m done,” I declared with handful number four.

“Me too.” My brother’s piles looked suspiciously smaller than mine, but what did I care? I was a hundred pennies rich!

“Okay, how many dandelions did you pick?” Dad asked.

I should have been suspicious since the answer was obvious—four piles of twenty-five dandelions per child—but I crowed the answer with glee: “A hundred for each of us! You owe us a hundred pennies apiece. A dollar each!”

“All right,” he said. “Now, how much do you owe me?”

“What?”

“Turn around and count how many dandelions you didn’t pick. That’s what you owe me. A penny for each dandelion still out there.”

My brother and I burst into tears. We didn’t have to turn around to know that more than two hundred dandelions remained unplucked on the lawn. And we knew our dad—a deal was a deal.
He’d make us follow through with it, and not only would we not get paid for all those dandelions we’d picked, but we’d have to pay him for the ones we hadn’t picked.

And so I learned my first lesson in Contracts 101—one of many memorable life lessons my wise father taught me over the years.

The lesson holds true for spiritual dandelions too. No matter how many weeds we pluck from our lives, there still will be hundreds we haven’t plucked. The Bible calls this “falling short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). That means we are sinners, while God is sinless. It means no matter how hard we try to be good, or how often we succeed, we’re still full of sin. We simply can’t get rid of all those weeds choking our lives. We need help.

That’s what Jesus did—He covered our debt with His allowance. He paid for all those weeds. Now, before our heavenly Father, there simply are no more dandelions to count against us.

Delayed Gratification

By Cheri Cowell –

Over the last few years America has undergone a shift, and I think it is a good one. We’ve learned to live on less, to embrace delayed gratification, and to count the cost before jumping in. I wish my mother-in-law could see us now (she’s living with Jesus) because the excesses of the 80’s and 90’s bothered her a lot.

She grew up during the depression and understood that all the “stuff” was false security. She practiced delayed gratification and counting the cost. She tought those lessons to her son, my husband. And although we didn’t always heed those lessons, they formed a solid foundation for our thinking so that when Jesus used this same principle in the parable below, we got it. I hope you do, too.

Prior to this passage, Jesus has warned and rebuked the leadership for not walking the talk. However, they still wanted to know, what does following Jesus really require? This parable makes it clear that disciples should count the cost of following Jesus, because success will not come easily. We will suffer, life will be hard, and we’ll need to learn to live on less while delaying our gratification. If we sit down and carefully count these costs, when the bill comes due we won’t be blindsided.

PRAYER: Lord, thank You for counting the cost and then willingly paying that cost for my salvation. Help me not only to count the cost but be willing to delay gratification so the cost will be worth it in the end.

“Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish’ (Luke 14:28-30 NIV).

Detours

By Janet Morris Grimes –

The sun peeked over the trees in an early morning yawn. It’s rays reflected off the lake, blinding me with a gush of wonder. With a gentle breeze, the 75 degrees of September was worth the wait after a long, hot and dry summer with humidity that seemed to weigh me down. I trekked along the paved path that bordered the lake, lost in my own world, singing to music in my ears that no one else could hear.

This was my day to be alone. Well, to be alone with God. With a new job and a recent move, I was overstimulated with too much busyness and needed time to take a breath, which led me to the lake on one of the most perfect days ever created.

I came across a fork in the path. Something I normally would have passed right by, sticking, instead with what I knew and was familiar. But I had just been praying, between the first and second stanza of a NeedtoBreathe song, (my theme for the day) for God to direct my steps. My specific prayer was to make His voice clear above the added noise in my life. I wanted Him to know I was still listening, probably now more than ever.

“Take this path.”

It wasn’t a voice, but rather a command, like an awareness of something I knew beforehand.

I didn’t question it. My reason for coming, after all, was to seek God, and He appeared to be everywhere, so wherever that unknown path led was fine with me.

Soon I was perched on a large, flat rock by the water’s edge, away from the few hikers and bikers that wandered through, at a place I had never noticed before. After writing all my questions for the day, I opened my Bible to the book of Mark, and this is what I found:

“At that time, Jesus came from Nazereth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan River. Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven beign torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased. At once the Spirit sent him out into the wilderness…. (Mark 1:9 – 12 NIV).

”Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed” (Mark 1:35 NIV).

I laid back against my newly discovered rock and contemplated how Jesus dealt with all that He was called to do. He took time away from others to refocus, to make sure He understood where God was leading, and to ask questions. My guess is He took many detours throughout His life, as He went where the Spirit led.

And on this perfect day, I was thankful that He had done the same for me.

A Simple Song

By Anna Cannard –

Rosy red cheeks, blond curls, pink hair ties, a blue dress, and ballet slippers made an adorable outfit. But it was impossible not to notice the slobber and snot that drooled down and around her tear drenched face. This was the sight I saw when I first met “Jenna.” Colossians 3:17 tells us to do everything in the name of Jesus. Jenna showed me how simple that could be.

I came to her seventh foster home as a child welfare intern assigned to take Jenna to visit her mother. Jenna, only a year old, had already been diagnosed with stranger anxiety, separation anxiety, and chronic fatigue. She had been several months without seeing her mother. I wondered if Jenna would recognize her.

Due to her severe anxieties, I’d been prepared for hitting, biting, and screaming when I put her in the car. I prayed that God would give the child peace when she saw me. I’d prayed this before for other kids who had anxiety and it always worked.

Sure enough, here I was, standing at the doorway facing Jenna. She saw me, clung to her foster mom, and wailed. I knelt and stretched out my arms. “Let’s go have some fun!” Jenna released her grip and walked to me. I scooped her up and out to the car. She wrapped her arms around me and rubbed her head against my neck.

At a stop light, I turned and tried to comfort the sobbing Jenna by talking to her. It didn’t work. Then I began to sing in a jolly manner, “Twinkle, twinkle little star.” Jenna’s cries ceased instantly. “How I wonder what you are.”

“Ha. Ha.” The tiny little girl let out a giggle for the first time. Down the road, I continued overdramatically singing the song, and Jenna laughed at every word. Going through the office door, I sang as upbeat as possible. Jenna’s tears dried and she laughed with a bright smile when we met her mother in the hallway. Instantly Jenna hid and cried again.

I sat in the playroom with Jenna and her mother, making sure the visit went safely, and Jenna continuously cried and attempted to cling to me. Her mother shared with me her feelings of frustration that her daughter was so avoidant of her. Near the end of the visit, I thought about the song again, and encouraged her mother to sing it. Amazingly, as her mother hummed the lyrics, Jenna popped her head up and slowly drew closer to her mom. The time came for Jenna to leave. Her mother thanked me for telling her about the song.

Five more times I would see Jenna. Each time she greeted me with a smile and hug. Two of those times, she enjoyed her mother singing to her and three times I sang to comfort her as we left because her mother decided not to show up. Six months I would go without seeing the girl before I was told to pick her up for her father to see.

I was amazed when she greeted me, “Nah Nuh (Anna).”

I drove down the road and she mumbled and waved her hands. No way. She remembered the song. I sang it out and she lowered her hands and laughed.

Her father would also disappoint her by quitting his visits. These times I sang a new song to comfort her as she cried, “Jesus loves me this I know….”

A simple song. A simple act for Jesus. Yet it brought comfort to a child. I hope this will encourage you to do small things for Jesus too.

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