Meaningful Work

By Cynthia Ruchti –

“Meaningful work.”

That’s what I said over the phone when in conversation with someone who shared my rant over the four-volume to-do lists sneering at us both. Looking for a spark of hope in the murky fog of responsibilities, I cheered the caller with the line, “Our lists remind us we have meaningful work to do.” Nervous little laugh. Then came the soul-heavy recognition that the Lord had just spoken, not me. And not through me but TO me.

My mom’s final days on this earth, almost a year ago now, were marked by struggle and a pathological inactivity that often rose with a greater ferocity than her pain. She mourned her loss of strength and the steady decline of her ability to breathe, but of greatest concern was the loss of something meaningful to do.

She’d battled congestive heart failure and all…yes, all…of its complications for many years. She understood that physical activities would be sloughed off like dead skin cells. One by one, she gave them up—traveling, gardening, cooking, pulling her great-grandchildren into her lap. Eventually even reading—a great holdout of joy in her declining years—was taken in brief one or two minutes snatches before she tired.

Diligent to the end to pray for those she loved, for her church family, and even for her hospice caregivers, all other avenues of meaningful work disappeared. No to-do lists. No responsibilities except for the labor of breathing.

Not having more than that on her list broke her heart.

Reflecting on the depth of her disappointment, I’m thanking God today that there’s more than one thing waiting for my attention. A robust list. And whether today or tomorrow or next week, they’ll all get done, by God’s grace.

PRAYER: Lord, thank You for cheering my heart with this wave of gratitude. Even when the list threatens to choke me, it won’t. And it is evidence that You have given me an abundance of meaningful work.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Colossians 3:17 NIV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer/producer of THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME radio ministry and past president of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—and “The Heart’s Harbor” in A Door County Christmas novella collection released in 2010. Cynthia writes stories of hope-that-glows-in-the-dark (www.cynthiaruchti.com).

Could This Be The Year?

By Cynthia Ruchti –

Fresh calendars are like an unquilted stretch of new snow begging for footprints. They tease with their crisp, unmarked pages, claiming that life won’t be messy and scribbled on before the year is over.

I’m old enough to know better, to realize that somewhere within those relatively blank pages are marks already—notes about an upcoming doctor appointment made months ago, reminders about tax form due dates, speaking engagements, deadlines…

The thirty-one open boxes under the stunning photograph of a lighthouse will start to fill before I take a step back to admire it. Church meetings. A family get-together. Worship practice (what an odd phrase! Practice for worship is…worship!). Birthdays I won’t remember soon enough to send a card. Garbage night. Phone numbers. Things that don’t fit on the to-do list.

When I take down this calendar to put up a new one next January, what story will these pages tell?

Will this be the year that I conquer my battle with—? It’s a multiple choice question.

Is this the year I stick to the discipline of—? Again, multiple choice.

Will this year be marked by lightning-fast obedience, divinely-appointed risk-taking, books read and written, regret-free living in relationships?

How many squares on the calendar will be filled with surprises, unexpected challenges, things I’d rather forget than remember?

Is this the year I won’t flinch when they come?

Although I regularly commit my day to the Lord, I don’t remember laying a whole calendar before Him. But it seems like a good idea, doesn’t it?

How can I move from block to block, three hundred and sixty five times, without His help? How can I hope to navigate that maze, dodging distractions and things circled four times and accented with exclamation marks if I’m not letting Him lead the way?

PRAYER: Father God, Lord of my life, early in the morning (and the year) will I rise up and seek You. I need You every hour, every block, every page.

“O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee… Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice. My soul followeth hard after thee: thy right hand upholdeth me,” (Psalm 63:1a, 7-8 KJV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer/producer of THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME radio ministry and past president of American Christian Fiction Writers. Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—and novella—“The Heart’s Harbor” in A Door County Christmas—released in 2010. Cynthia writes stories of hope that glows in the dark. www.cynthiaruchti.com.

The Cattle Were Sneezing

By Cynthia Ruchti –

“But, those people…”

The complaint took on a decidedly whiny tone.

“What about them, Sharla?”

“They’re…germy. Dirty. Smelly.”

Karen sighed. “And they’re needy, which is why our small group is reaching out to the homeless. They need to know someone cares so they’ll understand that Jesus cares.”

Sharla checked her BlackBerry. “Oh. I just realized I have an office Christmas party that night.”

“Not a problem. We’re serving holiday lunch at the shelter, not supper. You’ll have plenty of time to get changed for your party.”

“But, I’ll have to…”

“To what, Sharla? Take a shower? Disinfect?”

Sharla pressed her lips together, nostrils flaring as she breathed.

“Jesus was born in a stable.”

“Well, I know that.”

“He probably had cows sneezing on Him. Or worse. Jesus—a fragile newborn. The Son of God. And we’re having an issue with reaching out to humans in His Name?”

Every time we whine about how difficult or unpleasant it is to serve others, what must that communicate to the God who gave His Son, to the Son who left the splendors of heaven to be born in a stable and laid in a manger, to the One who was beaten beyond recognition and died on a crude cross—for us?

PRAYER: Lord, I’m ashamed of the times I’ve complained about some meaningless unpleasantry, about the inconvenience of the homeless man on the street corner and the foul odor of the pile of tennis shoes at the entrance to the youth room at church, of the runny noses of the kids in the nursery. Forgive me, Lord, for forgetting all the ugliness You endured for my sake, including the foul odor of my sin. Help me lose myself in loving like You loved.

VERSE: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love” (Ephesians 4:2 NIV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer and producer of the radio ministry The Heartbeat of the Home and current president of American Christian Fiction Writers. Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—released from Abingdon Press in Spring 2010 and A Door County Christmas novella collection (Barbour Publishing) released Fall 2010. Cynthia writes stories of hope that glows in the dark. www.cynthiaruchti.com.

She’s So NOT a Material Girl

By Cynthia Ruchti –

One would expect a five-year-old girl growing up in middle America to create a Christmas wish list that would help boost the economies of many local and online businesses, particularly in the toy departments. Or electronics.

But when her mother, my daughter, sat Hannah down the other day to help her spell the words beyond a kindergartner’s knowledge base, the first thing Hannah wanted on her list was toilet paper.

That’s right.

“Why toilet paper, honey?” her mom asked.

Without losing a beat, Hannah replied, “I wouldn’t want us to run out.”

A five-year-old concerned about the family’s toilet paper supply? She didn’t ask for Beat-the-Lottery Barbie, or Spangle-Dangle designer jeans, or the latest attachment for the latest version of the latest techno-game system.

The family chuckled when we heard Hannah’s top item on her wish list. Then we sobered. She’s obviously not a “material” girl. Lord, please keep her that innocent and uncomplicated.

Then the Lord took me past that response to a deeper layer of understanding. It almost seemed silly, at first, that a five-year-old would concern herself with the family toilet paper supply. I imagine her mom and dad assuring her, “Hannah, you won’t have to worry about things like that. We’ll take care of them for you.”

Isn’t that much like what Jesus told all of us? To those who were worried about how they’d feed and clothe themselves and their families, about food and shelter and heat and shoes and coats, Jesus said, “Your Father knows you have need of them.” The basics of provision? The Lord knows we need them. No need to put them on our wish list.

Just our “thank You” list.

PRAYER: Lord, Your provision is so complete. From the gift of life to the gift of abundant life to the gift of eternal life, I am most blessed. Great gift-giving God, thank You for taking good care of me and those I love.

“Your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his  righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:32b NIV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer and producer of the radio ministry THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME and current president of American Christian Fiction Writers. Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—released from Abingdon Press in Spring 2010 and A Door County Christmas released Fall 2010. Cynthia writes stories of hope that glows in the dark. www.cynthiaruchti.com.

It’ll Flatten Out Eventually

By Cynthia Ruchti –

So I’m hiking through the woods in Alaska and…

I’ve never written a line like that before. But there I was, following a guide over narrow trails that led up—and I mean UP—the cliffs around a glacial lake near Skagway.

When my husband and I signed on for this combination hike-and-float excursion, no one told us it would test our hearts’ ability to keep from exploding. Or our lungs’ desire to slip through our ribcage and run for cover.

No one told us, “It would probably be best if you were in good shape, underweight, and athletically inclined,” none of which matched our description.

I longed for the guide to list a few more points of interest while we stood clumped on a relatively flat part of the trail. My heart rate had only returned from nuclear meltdown to danger zone when he said, “Let’s keep moving. This next section of the trail is pretty steep. Watch your step.”

Too many minutes later, the guide motioned us to another clearing so he could show us what the bear had eaten recently.

“It’s pretty steep here yet for a while…”

Okay. Jesus, I’ll be seeing You soon. Looking forward to it.

“But the trail will eventually flatten out. The last third is fairly level land as we work our way along the shore to our put-in point for the raft.”

Level. I definitely heard the word level. The trail will eventually flatten out. Those words became my theme song as I hauled my sorry carcass over the rocks and roots and up the torturous path. I would have quit. Any number of times. But I didn’t want to look like a sissy, for one. And two, how would the others have gotten my body back to civilization? Just give me a shove and roll me down the cliff face? No thanks.

I took another step and another and another because of the promise that the trail would eventually flatten out.

And that’s how we keep going after grief crushes us or disappointment slices us open or the path turns so steep we can’t breathe.

God promised that the trail would eventually flatten out. We can make it that far. Then He will—as my husband did—put His arm around us and say, “What a trooper!”

Looking forward to it.

PRAYER: Lord, I’m clinging to Your promise that the trail will eventually flatten out. Could I ride on Your shoulders until it does?

“The Lord upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all those that be bowed down” (Psalm 145:14 KJV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer/producer of THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME radio ministry and president of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—released with Abingdon Press May 1, 2010–http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtZb0by984g. Cynthia writes stories of Hope-that-glows-in-the-dark (www.cynthiaruchti.com).

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