Eyes Wide Open

By Rhonda Rhea –

 

I confess, my closet is not the tidiest. But all five of my kids were teenagers at about the same time. Nobody knows the closets I’ve seen.

I remember deciding at one point that if any of the teens’ closets were going to get straightened out, I was going to have to be in on it. Then I think I probably went and got a tetanus shot.

We started with Kaley’s. She was around 15. Being the word-minded person I am, I thought about the origin of the word “closet.” Isn’t it from the Greek, “closetorium,” which means “where the dog wouldn’t even throw up”?

Somewhere along the way, some of the disgust gave way to fascination. We were both riveted when we found broken crayons stuck to an old sucker stick. She told me it had been at least two years since she’d eaten a sucker. Took me ten minutes to throw it away. We found math papers from third grade, the box from a SpongeBob clock she no longer had and a VCR she had completely taken apart. Ten thousand VCR parts. You can’t even vacuum that.

That was about the time I seriously thought about just closing the closet door. And not opening any others. Boy, would it have been nice to just close my eyes to the whole thing and go back to my happy life of closet ignorance.

I probably don’t have to tell you that’s not always the best plan. Second Kings 6 tells of a time when a warring king had surrounded Elisha’s entire city. Army, horses, chariots—the works. A situation so much stickier than any old sucker. Elisha’s servant asked what in the world they were going to do and Elisha answered, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them” (2 Kings 6:16 ESV).

I have to imagine Elisha’s servant looking at the two of them, then the army, then him again with, “So…Elisha…math is not exactly your thing, right?” But Elisha did something amazing that he really didn’t have to do. He asked God to open his servant’s eyes. And He did. Verse 17 says, “So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.” Wow! I love picturing that mountainful. A heavenly army—one that numbered more than the miscellaneous parts of any number of VCRs.

O Lord, forgive me every time my faith is as small as my earthly vision. I can too often be like Thomas who wouldn’t believe until he could see for himself. Jesus’s words to Thomas? “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed,” (John 20:29, ESV).

Seeing is believing. But believing without seeing? That’s real faith. Do you ever wonder what the Heavenly Father might be doing this very minute that we can’t see? Do we trust him in complete faith even when he doesn’t “open our eyes” to those things?

I want an eyes-wide-open faith! A dogged faith.

Which, incidentally, has nothing to do with any kind of closetorium.

 

By His Wounds

By Susan Dollyhigh –

 

I prayed, “Lord, please take away my fear…” and the dam broke. My body quaked with sobs, and the river of tears which sprang from a deep, painful place in my body, washed down my face in a torrent. And then I saw myself, wearing the same red sweater and blue jeans that I had on that day, climbing on my hands and knees up a steep and rocky hill. My hand reached up to grab a ledge of rocks as my high heeled boot slipped, threatening to send me sliding down the hill on my belly. I steadied myself, and continued climbing, all the while wailing from the depths of my soul.

I stopped to rest, swiped my face across the sleeve of my sweater, and looked up …and saw Christ on the cross. I had to get to Him. I frantically grabbed onto rocks to keep from falling, and when I reached the top, I ran to the foot of the cross and collapsed. My emotions were released from the prison where they’d resided for so long, and I cried the river of tears that brought healing to my soul.

As a six-year-old little girl, I’d heard, “Now, don’t you cry,” as I stood before my sixteen-year-old cousin’s casket. I remember feeling like I would choke from the emotion that was stuck in my throat. But I didn’t cry, and the Enemy turned that into a stronghold.

Forty years later, I shared with a counselor several tragic events that had taken place in my life – and I didn’t cry. I discovered that I was emotionally paralyzed. As my counselor and I prayed for that stronghold to be broken, I never dreamed I would end up climbing Calvary’s Hill. But when I rose from the foot of Jesus’s cross, my heart had been resurrected and made whole.

Do you need healing in your life? Take your problems to the Lord, for it is by His wounds we are healed.

“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5 NIV).

PRAYER: Father, thank You for Jesus. Thank You for revealing and breaking strongholds in my life. Thank you for the freedom and joy to experience being set free from bondage.

In Jesus’s Name, Amen

Of Mayflowers

By Kim Stokely –

 

If April showers bring May flowers, what do May flowers bring?

Pilgrims!

I loved that joke when I was a kid. It still makes me smile, mainly because it reminds me of my childhood growing up in New England.

I once had the opportunity to visit Plymouth Plantation, the historical spot where the pilgrims first came ashore in North America and made a home. A life-sized model of the Mayflower, the boat that brought them across the Atlantic, rests in the bay. And, at least when I was there some (cough, cough) forty years ago, a large granite and iron barrier, reminiscent of a Greek temple, had been placed around Plymouth Rock, the boulder the pilgrims had to step on first before coming ashore.

Really?

Even as a kid I remember thinking, how could they possibly know that?

Did Miles Standish have a Sharpie quill marker to make sure they remembered the exact rock, among the millions along the New England shoreline that our forefathers jumped on to keep their feet out of the salty water? Although these guys were all about formality and the importance of their journey, I don’t think, after 2 months at sea in a wooden boat with so many unwashed people, that anyone cared that they had to step on a rock to get to land. I think they probably had trouble keeping everyone from jumping over the rails and swimming to shore. In fact, the first written mention of Plymouth Rock came almost 100 years after the Pilgrims landed. Oral tradition may have picked this rock, but I’m still not convinced that the one enshrined in Massachusetts is “the one”.

God doesn’t give us such nebulous facts when it comes to the story of His son, Jesus. The first four gospels include eye witness accounts of Jesus’s days on earth. Most scholars believe they were written before the destruction of Herod’s Temple in 70 A.D. This means they were written within 40 years of Christ’s death. Many of the names, dates and events can be historically cross-checked with secular accounts. God wanted those of us who came later to know His son almost as intimately as those that walked with Him. He inspired the Gospel authors to write vivid accounts of Jesus’s words and actions so we could learn, as they did, from the great rabbi.

 

Crazy Good Win

By Liz Cowen Furman –

After months of fighting it off, I succumbed to the bug my son and his basketball team passed around all season. I discovered something. I am a wimp. I cannot imagine how they played basketball with this sickness causing fever and ache to the very marrow of the bones. Ahh, youth.

As teenagers are wont to do, they kept going even when the bug struck. In one game my son played, he made seventeen points, then came home and collapsed for the entire weekend. He was so ill, but nothing would stop him from playing.

Determined to have a different season than in previous years, they now had much-loved coaches they would work forever to please. As a mom, I sometimes wished the sick kids would have been sent home, not to share their germs, but in the end they were learning to be part of something bigger than themselves.

At one game early in the season, a mom sitting next to me said, “Oh no! I just realized that the combined ages of our three coaches is less than my age.” Hoots of laughter. What the coaches lacked in years they made up for in passion. Our son, Matthew, 20, was the level three coach.

Their season record wasn’t great but several of their losses were by 2 or 3 points, not the usual 20-40 from the previous coaches’ reign.

The season finale was against archrival Evergreen. A nemesis they hadn’t beaten in eight years. Every time we play them a thousand fans attend. Evergreen won by 29 points earlier in the season. The last game was also senior night so all the parents (even grandparents) attended.

The local newspaper showed, and the concessions stand burst with meal deals to sell. Three hundred cupcakes stood at the ready for players and their families after the game.

In the locker room pregame, Coach Eric showed a video he made of their season. Then he stood up and said, “What do you want your legacy to be…?” He later said after his speech he looked up and most of the seniors were teary eyed. He thought his plan had backfired.

What happened when the boys took the floor won’t be forgotten any time soon.

I’ve never seen such determination in the eyes of our boys. We won handily by 18 points, (19 of which were my senior son Micah’s—I had to throw that in because I’m his mom) but what was so fun to see was the way they played.

All the previous years of agony with a bad coach and all the ego-deflating losses they endured somehow melted away that night. When they remember their high school basketball careers, they will no doubt remember the win against Evergreen in front of God and everybody!

I am beyond thankful for the three coaches they had this year. After the final buzzer Coach Eric kissed his hand and pointed heavenward, in a gesture of thanks to the Father for granting them this win. Priceless.

The Perfect Bargain

By Carin LeRoy –

Five years ago while planning my daughter’s wedding, we were on a tight budget. I needed to watch every penny to help her plan the big day. She chose burgundy as her color theme. As I planned the decorations, I wondered how I could use the color theme on the tables without over-spending. On a drive back home across town one Saturday, I had the thought to stop in Wal-Mart and check out their bargain material table. Being tired from running errands all day, I dismissed it.

However, the thought persisted. Stop at Wal-Mart and look at their material.

I stopped, walked to the back of the store, and rummaged through their discounted material. In the piles I found a shiny delicate material that would be beautiful for runners on the tables. It was a match for the color my daughter had chosen.  I was thrilled when I walked away with all they had—fifteen yards of material for $15.00!

The Lord’s prompting can be just a still voice that urges us to do something. Is it possible that God would care about such things in my life—like staying on budget? If He can offer us forgiveness, salvation, and an eternal home, can He also not help us with the details of our lives? I believe so.  When I obeyed His promptings that day and walked away with the perfect material to accent the tables, I am sure He smiled.

The majority of our lives is consumed with details and the process of day to day living. The Lord desires to sharpen our sensitivity to His Spirit as we move through each new day.  Learning daily awareness of His promptings allows Him to prepare and lead us through more challenging situations that may come. Responding to Him offers many blessings as we seek to listen to His voice. Remember, God cares about the small things. Let’s watch for His hand and enjoy His presence in our lives.

PRAYER: Thank You that You are a God that cares about the details of my life. Help me to listen for Your promptings and see Your hand in my life.  Give me a heart that watches for and experiences Your presence daily.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” (James 1:17 NIV).

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