Being Led by the Spirit According to Garmin

By Lane R Johnson

I have a companion that travels in my truck with me wherever I go. It’s a small navigational unit called Garmin. This companion is not very chatty, but I have grown to trust it implicitly. I call it Gwendolyn. 

In the beginning it was difficult to trust Gwendolyn. I was used to making all the decisions and seeing the end from the beginning. The concept of heading off in faith lead by someone I couldn’t control was very difficult.

I remember an appointment I had in Virginia. I left Richmond in plenty of time. Everything went as usual until 45 minutes into the trip. Then I noticed that the roads were becoming increasingly rural. I ignored my uneasiness as long as I could until I found myself trapped in traffic on a two lane road. Cars in front, cars behind, nothing moving and all indications were that we were headed straight into the James River. I was trapped and I was very uncomfortable. I had no backup plan. I hadn’t brought a map and I was hopelessly lost. Not only that, but my appointment was critical and I had no idea how I was going to keep it. I fumed in my truck and finally, out of frustration, I railed at Gwendolyn. “I trusted you! I put myself in YOUR hands and look where it brought me!” Gwendolyn didn’t answer. No matter how much I fumed she remained silent. I decided to attempt to figure out how I could extricate MYSELF from this mess. Obviously, Gwendolyn had proven untrustworthy. 

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Our Cry to the Father

By Peter Lundell

On an out-of-town trip, I stayed at the home of our church members. Their baby cried at 3:00 a.m. and again at 6:30 in the morning. Parents of newborns may yearn for the time when their child sleeps through the night. But, not being in such a position, I just listened.

The cry sounded almost like a song calling out to parents. I thought of the babies I’d heard cry: in Minnesota, where I grew up; in Haiti, where they’re born into abject poverty; in Japan, a completely different race and culture. The cries were similar. Rich or poor, Eastern or Western, the babies all called out to parents.

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Christmas Shopping—Bah, Humbug!

By Kathi Macias

I am not a shopper. Seriously! Shopping—particularly Christmas shopping—is right up there at the top of my “despised things to do” list, right along with root canals and skydiving. (Okay, I’ve never actually experienced skydiving, but I promise you I’d hate it. I mean, you don’t have to get set on fire to know you don’t want to be a human torch, am I right?)

The worst thing about shopping is that you really can’t get out of it. When I was a kid, Mom used to drag me and my two younger brothers along on the bus just so we could trudge up and down Main Street and plod in and out of every store along the way. (That was before shopping malls, if you can imagine that!) My feet would hurt, I was mad because I wanted to be home reading a book, and worst of all I had to “keep an eye on” my two little brothers. Oh, that was fun! While Mom pawed through piles of sweaters and socks and underwear—none of which we kids had the least interest in receiving as gifts—I halfheartedly tried to keep my brothers from getting into trouble. They, on the other hand, were completely devoted to finding some new and innovative way of disrupting the entire shopping event. Of course, as I stood there bemoaning my fate and feeling absolutely wretched over the entire state of affairs, it never occurred to me that it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park for my mom; somehow I was under the illusion that she actually enjoyed it!

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Inside Out

By Cheri Cowell

Today I met a friend for lunch and through our conversation she learned that I indeed wore a southern belle gown and big picture hat for my wedding. For proof I pulled the picture from my purse. As she looked at the image she said, “Funny, I didn’t picture you as the southern belle type,” to which I replied, “You’re right. I guess I was filling a role I thought I should play.”

Come to think of it, I have played many roles in my life that were not accurate reflections of my inner self. Jesus can see beneath the surface and calls us to be who we really are.

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When A Door Closes. . .

By Keisha Bass

 “When one door closes, another one opens.” It may be a popular saying, but oh, how true it is. Personally, I think it is something to live your life by. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” We need to believe that God has a plan for our lives and that it is good. Believe it or not, our Father does know best.

 So when that door on your relationship closes, or a job that you’ve had for a long time has ended, just look at it as God’s way of getting you prepared for the next door to open. He’s given you all you need to move forward in life. We just have to believe we have it and put it to use. Now, all of this, of ‘course, is easier said than done. But remember He is always with you, especially in the tough times.

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