A LOT of Hot Air!

By Liz Cowen Furman –

Every autumn, in Dubois Wyoming, near Yellowstone, we close and winterize our little motel, the Black Bear Inn. Draining the pipes prevents ruptures owed to the savagely cold winters. On several occasions, we have had to hire help to flush out the pipes. Last year, the men we contracted waited until after the first hard freeze. Their incompetence blew several expensive connections and cost us irreplaceable time while hustling to open in the spring. At that moment, we vowed to do the work ourselves, because replacing the cracked insides of nearly every toilet was such a pain in the drain.

When the time came to close the motel this year, all my assistants from home either fell ill or had prior engagements. Lee, my wonderful housekeeper, and her daughter, Sky, saved the day by helping prepare. However, we are not plumbers and were at a loss as to how to blow out the pipes once we drained them. During prayer request time at our church, I asked God to send anyone who knew plumbing preservation to help us accomplish this seemingly insurmountable task. God answered our prayer in the form of a cheerful handyman who volunteered to come the following morning and not only help but teach us how to do it ourselves.

Minutes into the project, our geriatric compressor blew a fuse and died. Generously, Lee volunteered the brand new compressor she recently purchased for her husband. After a few minutes of its service, the second compressor blew a gasket and perished. I called the local hardware store, whose owner was a dear friend of my late father-in-law, to inquire about renting a third compressor. When I arrived at the store he said, “I have the compressor for you, follow me.” We arrived at his place to find a compressor the size of my dining table mounted on a truck.

Once started, the compressor blew out the pipes in 30 minutes. However, it was so powerful we could not keep everything closed without blowing off the faucet heads. We solved this by opening all the faucets on the top half of the motel, then opening them all, to finally close the top leaving the bottom open, then repeat. It blew so much hot air that my hand under the sink faucet felt like a blow dryer was turned on it. Amazing how the right tool for the job makes it go more smoothly. It took us from about 9:00 am to 3:00 pm to find that tool but once we did, life was a breeze (more like a gale force wind).

Paralleled in our spiritual lives, issues arise where we don’t know what to do, or how to react. I have so often tried resolutions of my own. Inevitably, when I have killed my “geriatric compressor” (or brain) I resort to turning to the Lord. At least I used to. Now when something comes up that I’m not sure how to handle, I “seek WISDOM” in God’s Word, in prayer and from Godly friends.

James 1:5 states, “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you” (NIV).

I am determined to ask God for help as a first resort from now on, rather than a last one. Join me?

Satisfaction

By Kim Stokely –

It’s tough to be satisfied in our crazy world.

We stop at a restaurant for a light lunch and somehow get talked into ordering a triple bacon deluxe with extra cheese and super-sized fries.

We invest in a new computer, only to be disappointed the following week when its next generation arrives on the shelves with ten times the previous processing speed, 100% more storage and new technology so it’ll pay all your bills while it cooks your dinner.

My husband’s mother was recently singing his praises to family members we hadn’t seen in years. “John performs with his band around Omaha. He’s really good. You should hear the songs he’s written for Kim.”

My husband’s cousin, Cathy, turned to her spouse in mock reproach. “You’ve never written me a song.”

My mother-in-law continued, “John’s written Kim lots of songs! Funny ones. Romantic ones. They’re all wonderful.”

Cathy playfully smacked her husband Todd on the arm. “How come you’ve never written me a song?”

John, embarrassed by his mother’s attention, jumped to Todd’s defense. “He built you a house! I think that’s enough!”

“Yeah!” Todd laughed, thankful for the back-up.

It’s true. The deck we were sitting on had been designed and built by Todd. Not to mention the entire beautiful house.

In Cathy’s defense, we all tend to forget the blessings of the past because we are constantly bombarded with the message that to be happy, we need something new. How much time do we spend asking God for more; instead of thanking Him for all he has already provided in our lives?

Psalm 90:14 says, “Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days”(NIV). It’s my goal to wake up each day, rejoicing in all God has given me, instead of striving each day for more.

Lesson from a Zombie

By Dawn Wilson –

I’m not a zombie fan, but a TV commercial by Sprint Unlimited about an “undead” zombie made me laugh. In the commercial, a creepy-looking zombie asks a Sprint representative whether their “unlimited for life guarantee” also applies to someone who is “technically” not alive: “Like, maybe you were … undead”?

The Sprint rep replies, “Sure, like a zombie.” The slightly offended zombie suggests she not put “labels” on people. But when his ear falls off, he has to confess, “… I’m a zombie.”
Busted!

We never try to pretend to be something other than we’re not, do we?

I’m reminded that the Pharisees strutted around, proud of their good works. They thought they were fooling people with their self-righteousness. But Jesus saw inside their hearts to where their lives were falling apart.

He called them “white-washed tombs” (Matthew 23:27-28) full of dead men’s bones. Hypocrites.

Before we get all judgmental with the Pharisees, we need to check our own hearts.
• Are we filled with pride?
• Do we spend more time looking “spiritual” while our inner life—intimacy with God—would make us blush if others knew?
• Do we want people to think we’re better than we are?
• Do we modify our actions to appear “holier than thou”?
• Do we quickly condemn others, but get defensive when others point out our own failings?
• Do we get upset when people don’t notice our spiritual accomplishments?

When the zombie’s ear fell off, the obvious exposure made me laugh.

But I don’t laugh when others discover my façades.

The cure for all of this, of course, is to know God and to get real with Him so we can be real with others. It’s recognizing we don’t need to impress anyone. We certainly don’t need to appease or impress the Lord. When we confess our sins, He is faithful to forgive; and He can certainly handle our everyday mistakes.

This is a call for authenticity. Honesty. Knowing who we are and Whose we are, and living in light of that truth. In Christ, we are accepted and secure, and we have dignity.

Once we know who we are in Christ, we certainly don’t need to pretend (like that zombie in the commercial) that we’re something other than what God says we are: sinners rescued by God’s grace on an incredible journey of transformation to become like His Son. Our greatest goal now is to live for the praise of His glory (1 Peter 4:11), not our own.

The Details Are a Little Etch-a-Sketchy

By Rhonda Rhea –

I was working on a book in a wild fury. My fingers had been flying across the keyboard for the better part of an afternoon. I was in “the zone,” man. The zone is a very happy place for a writer to be—especially when a deadline is inching nearer. And by “inching” I actually mean barreling down like a locomotive.

Procrastination, however, just seems to be my way. I think it’s because I work so much better with that good, panic-driven rush of adrenaline. I’m pretty sure I do my best writing when I’m just this side of hyperventilation.

My computer had been misbehaving for days, and as the deadline loomed and I was rounding the corner of Chapter 21, my computer did something very evil. It swallowed an entire afternoon’s work. No recovery options. Gone. All that adrenaline down the drain! I felt like I’d been run over by The Little Engine That Couldn’t. I’m still considering typing my next manuscript on an Etch-a-Sketch.

There was no way to replace what I’d written. It’s not even that the details I’d put in there were sketchy. They were completely gone from my head. With any creative thought that might crop up in my little brain, the words slowly ooze out of the brain cells, track down the arms and through the fingers, then roll into the computer. But it’s a one-way track. Just trying to remember little tidbits of the book parts I’d lost, I was working myself into a good cry and a whole new level of hyperventilation.

Those times of tears and hyperventilation have a distinctive way of snapping me around to the most basic reality: God is in control. He wasn’t freaking out about those couple of chapters I’d lost. He didn’t have a hand on each of His cheeks with an “Oh no! Never saw that coming. How can I make any ministry happen here now?”

He is in control—and He’s the one I should run to and rest in. When I’m in the midst of a train wreck, and just as enthusiastically when life is clicking along on the smoothest tracks. Even when I’m in “the zone.”

He tells us in Isaiah 46:10, “I declare the end from the beginning, and from long ago what is not yet done, saying: My plan will take place, and I will do all My will,” (HCSB). Beginning, end and everything in between. He’s already written the story. Every chapter.

The psalmist speaks of “the one who by his strength established the mountains, being girded with might; who stills the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves, the tumult of the peoples,” (Psalm 65:6-7, ESV). A paraphrase of His name here is “Earth-Tamer, Ocean-Pourer, Mountain-Maker, Hill-Dresser, Muzzler of sea storm and wave crash” (MSG).

The God who can muzzle the wave crash is certainly not undone by a computer crash. He is the sovereign all-powerful One. The Most High. He is the Redeemer. To say He’s more powerful than a locomotive is the ultimate in understatement. He’s just…MORE.

As you might guess, He was more than powerful enough to redeem the chapters I lost. I even liked the new ones better. Makes me wonder why I ever hyperventilate. Trusting in His power is so much better than breathing into a brown paper bag. And it’s for sure, He’s the only one who can put my loco in any kind of motion.

Popping, Snapping, Clicking, Whoosh!

By Liz Cowen Furman –

Our little motel near Yellowstone in Wyoming finally joined the 21st century. Armed with a grant to cover the cost, the telephone and power companies joined forces and installed new fiber optics and updated power cables.

When the men came to visit with me about their plan and how they would have to trash my big flower bed, they seemed so afraid to tell me. They were scared of my reaction. It was early August and my flower beds gush flowers during August.

What they didn’t know is that even though I was able to coax and cajole that particular flower bed to produce beautiful blooms, it had been quite difficult to do. Rocks, rocks and more rocks, an old tree stump and old water and power lines made it nearly impossible to turn over the dirt. When I heard they would be coming to dig it up I was so excited! Their shocked faces were priceless when I asked “How soon can you get here to begin?”

Finally, our day came. The men arrived early in the morning to warn me so I could transfer the perennials to holding crates until they were finished. I watched them as they began the process of gouging across the bed and through the drive.

Standing near the edge of the 5 foot-deep hole, I discovered that the old stump was actually an old telephone pole that had been sawed off. It was three feet long. No wonder I couldn’t dig it up.

The man running the back hoe was coaxing giant rocks out of the opening. Just as I was about to say how close he looked to the wires, we heard a popping-snapping-clicking sound, and then “WHOOSH”.

Black smoke and big flames sprang from the line as it snapped. The man standing in the hole with a shovel jumped out in one terrified leap.

We looked up just in time to see the same flames and black smoke enveloping the side of our motel. And then nothing. The power was out. Not just on our property but all over town.

I had guests arriving in a few hours and no electricity. Our motel is not posh, but we at least have electricity. We waited for the electricians to come check it out. It took several hours and what they discovered was that the old telephone box, the one that is no longer in use, took the hit for the entire motel. I couldn’t believe it. (Secretly, I had hoped for new wiring…ha ha).

The electricity was knocked out clear to the substation but in just a few hours they had us back online. Before the guests even arrived.

I couldn’t help but think how amazing it was that the box took the hit for the entire motel. It kind of reminded me of how Jesus took the hit for the entire human race. I am ever thankful for that fact, and ever amazed that he would die for my sins, before I ever committed them. He died for you, too.

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