Hold On for Dear Life

By Rhonda Rhea –

Maybe I mentioned before that I always keep dried fruit in my desk drawer so I’ll have a healthy snack handy when I’m working. Except the fruits are so dry that all that’s left of them is these nacho cheesy Doritos.

Somehow that makes it an even sadder snack situation when I reach for my fruit and all I find in the bottom of the Dorito bag is a bunch of orange powder. I hate that. Some people would suggest that whenever that happens, I would do well to take the hint and go get an apple. Those are the people who just don’t get me at all.

Then there are others who say the nacho-powder is the best part. They’re closer to getting me than the apple group. Still, they would no doubt think it wasteful of me if they saw me throwing away a perfectly good bag of Dorito-dust. I’m sorry, but once I find anything in my snack stash in ash form, I toss it. Definitely time for a new bag of Dor-fruit-os. Holding on to the bag when its contents are practically an aerosol just doesn’t work for me. Spray-on Doritos? No, I say give the bag a decent burial and let it go. Stashes to ashes, Doritos to dust.

Sort of relatedly, our walk with Christ can be either wonderfully encouraged or it can be sadly thwarted by what we choose to hang on to. And what we don’t. Hang on to wealth or material things, success or power, popularity or fame, comfort or entertainment—or a gazillion other things that promise to satisfy but don’t deliver—and there’s going to be disappointment. If we hang on to pride or unforgiveness or any other sin, we inevitably find there’s not only disappointment, but devastation. And we usually also find that as we hang on to those sins, they also begin to hang on to us. It’s scary-amazing how easily sin can get a hold on you, isn’t it?

Even hanging on to good things can sidetrack our lives in a fruitless direction. Jesus said, “If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it,” (Matthew 16:25, NLT). Holding onto anything in this life is letting go of too much of Jesus. That leads to a dead-end life with no fruit. None. Not even the dried up fruit of the Dorito variety.

So much of the victorious life in Christ is about knowing when to let go and when to hold on. We’re told in Deuteronomy 13:4, “Follow the Lord your God and fear Him. Keep His Laws, and listen to His voice. Work for Him, and hold on to Him,” (NLV). As we hold on to Him and passionately embrace all He calls us to be and to do, life becomes exactly what it’s meant to be. It becomes sweet. It becomes dear. So you could rightly say that holding on to the Father is very surely holding on for dear life.

My “Bacon” Blunder

By Dawn Wilson –

Some things just make me go “Huh?”

I mean, I love bacon, but I wouldn’t buy the “Bacon-shaped Christmas ornaments” I saw online, or use a bacon-scented candle, or place a bacon-printed floor mat in front of my sink, or frost my cake with bacon-flavored frosting. I’m a wee bit tempted to create some “bacon roses” for a party, though. They just look so yummy!

My earliest recollection of the word “bacon”—other than the kind my mom fried up in a pan—was hearing Mom say it was Dad’s job to “bring home the bacon.” Years later I heard a commercial for Charles of the Ritz’s Enjoli perfume: “I can bring home the bacon! Fry it up in a pan! And never, never, never let you forget you’re a man. ‘Cause I’m a woman.”

The song was a parody of “I’m a Woman,” one of Peggy Lee’s signature tunes, and I embraced the philosophy. Her original lyrics explained she could scoop up lard “from a drippins can.” Then this awesome “W-O-M-A-N” would take that fat, throw it in the skillet, go out and do her shopping, and be back before it melted in the pan! Wow!

I thought, “Yes! I can do and be everything too. I’m tough. I’ll be a ‘bring home the bacon’ woman. I don’t need anyone. And when I get married, I’ll do my best to make a man feel he’s strong too (hopefully, stronger than me)!”

As I matured into womanhood in the Superwoman culture of the 60s, I felt driven to be all-powerful and self-sufficient. My goal was to read every self-help book I could put my hands on and achieve, achieve, achieve!

It took me years to understand that much of my self-confidence was founded in a proud heart and focused on performance. I was “wise” in my own eyes (Proverbs 3:7) and trusting in empty works (1 Corinthians 3:12-13).

God broke my heart in a revival meeting as I realized my self-confidence was getting in the way of “God-confidence.”

I was living independent of God, functioning like an atheist. I wasn’t seeking Him for advice and wisdom (Isaiah 30:1-3; James 1:5). I was trusting in my “strong flesh,” which was actually weak, limited, temporal and untrustworthy. I sadly realized flesh could only take me so far; ultimately it would fail me. And it was sinful. I was doing what came naturally instead of living supernaturally in Christ.

God wants so much more for us than “bringing home the bacon.” He has a great work for us to do for His kingdom, but He wants us to recognize that He is our Source. The more we seek Him and allow His Spirit to transform us (2 Corinthians 3:18), the more we will fulfill His purposes and find true satisfaction.

God is up to something beautiful, investing in our lives and shaping us for ministry. In His presence, we find peace, protection, provision, power—everything we need. HE is the one bringing home the bacon and so much more!

Maybe I need to buy and wear a bacon necklace I saw, to remind me of this great truth.

Deceiving Appearances

By Kim Stokely –

Have you ever had a taste surprise? You reach for the bottle of apple juice in the fridge, take a swallow, only to discover it’s actually the sun tea you made that afternoon? A friend of mine has held a grudge against pumpernickel bread ever since she took a cube off a buffet table, thinking it was a brownie bite.

I had, at a recent family reunion, not a taste surprise, but an appearance surprise. To understand the true nature of this, you have to know that some members of my husband’s family loathe mayonnaise. The sight of the gelatinous white sandwich spread makes them physically ill. My son, Ian, doesn’t hate it to that extent, but he still doesn’t like it. As we gathered at the picnic table to eat a lunch of leftovers, my niece, Allison, walked out with a huge jar of mayonnaise.

Her cousin, Justyn, stared at her in horror. “Why’d you bring that out here?”

She gave him a sweet smile. “I found out that I like it!”

My son looked around the table at the remaining hot dogs and burgers. Ian’s face paled. “What are you going to put it on?”

Allison plopped into her chair, setting the offensive jar, and a plate of crackers on the table. She slowly unscrewed the cap.

Justyn turned a shade of green. “Crackers? You eat it just with crackers?”

In answer, she dipped her spoon into the jar and spread a blob of its contents onto a cracker. She popped the morsel into her mouth. “Yep.”

My son stared. “I dare you to eat a spoonful on its own.”

Allison promptly did.

Ian made a retching noise before standing up. “That just hurt my heart.” He and Justyn ran into the house.

Allison laughed while the rest of us looked on with various expressions of confusion, curiosity and revulsion. She scooped out another blob and held it out. “Anyone else want some?” She giggled at the groans she heard. “It’s vanilla pudding!”

She’d fooled all of us with her practical joke, something she gloated over for the rest of our visit. We’d all looked at the jar and its label, and assumed that the white goo inside was mayonnaise. But, if we’d really thought about it, we would have realized Allison would never eat mayonnaise, as she’s always been the most vocal in her disgust of the stuff.

The joke reminded me of the passage in 1Samuel 16:7 when God warned Samuel not to judge a person by their appearance, as man does; but by their heart, as He does. How often do we jump to conclusions based on appearances? Has someone’s clothes, or tattoos, or hairstyle, stopped me from approaching them because I didn’t think we’d have anything in common? Just because the outside looks like something we might not like, the inside might hold a sweet treat, just like Allison’s jar of “mayonnaise.”

The Yokes on Me

By Rhonda Rhea –

You know how I usually know I’ve been too busy? I open the refrigerator door and find fur. And then I stand there for several seconds wondering what it used to be. Then I stand there another several seconds wondering if I should have it spayed or neutered.

It happened again the other day. I was standing with the fridge door open and my son told me he heard something groaning. I assured him it was only me.

They heard my groaning, yet there is no one to comfort me. –For I must clean the refrigerator myself. That’s from Lamentations 1:21(ESV). Except I added the entire last sentence.

At the point I start rewriting Lamentations, I usually figure out that I’m too busy and it’s time to formulate another plan. Here’s the part where I have to confess that my Plan B is almost always exactly like my Plan A—only with more coffee.

The better Plan B? It rests in the words of Jesus in Matthew 11:28-30. And actually it’s much more appropriate as a Plan A. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light,” (ESV).

As vital as it is for our bodies to spend time at rest, it’s even more vital for us to embrace some soul-rest. Anytime we’re feeling spiritually troubled, heavy-laden or burned out, Jesus reminds us, “Come to Me.”

When your mind is cluttered with a worried jumble of to-do lists and your heart is weighted down with distresses and difficulties, your Savior comes along with this reminder that He waits for you. He waits for you to come. It’s His desire to be your comfort, your encouragement, your hope, your victory. And all you have to do is…come.

How do we come to Him? We come as we sort out our priorities and line up our plans for every day with His. We come to Him as we make prayer and worship a priority and give His word an uninterruptible place on the schedule. In those precious places of prayer and worship and in reading His word, we find indescribable comfort. And guess what else we find. We find the items on an overwhelming to-do list coming into perspective and sorting themselves out. Often those things sort themselves out as we discover His calling to lay down a heavy yoke we’ve placed on ourselves—our own plans and some kind of big, fat, misdirected agenda. As we exchange those plans for His, we find a yoke that’s a much more comfy fit. Exchanging the yoke we’ve made for the one He has for us is always a trade of victory. We find grace. We find inspiration to keep going. We find joy. We find…Him.
Isn’t it fascinating that any yoke I place on myself is utterly and entirely exhausting? And isn’t it even more fascinating that the yoke of Christ is invigorating to the max in every little corner of my soul?

Every day, for every list, I need to remember to rest in Him. To give my soul a break, and to “come.”

As far as the fridge is concerned, I would love a break there, too, but I don’t see it happening. Looks like I’m going to have to knuckle down and clean it. Or maybe shave it.

Pick Up Too Many and Your Pants Fall Off!

By Liz Cowen Furman –

We are avid rock hounds. The area surrounding Dubois, Wyoming, where our little motel is, is a geologist’s paradise. So varied and rich is it that a university from Florida brings students every year to learn in God’s classroom.

Since our motel is a family-run business, for 6 days a week in the summer it is 16 hours a day of tiring work. However, on the Lord’s Day we do only what is absolutely necessary, go to church, and then head to the hills in search of archeological treasures.

We load up terrific snacks, warm socks and jackets to put on after the hunt, large five gallon buckets to carry through the streams and rivers collecting our finds, sunscreen, hats and a rock book or two.

Our three sons, my husband and I have so much fun searching the stream beds for the best find of the day. If you have boys you may have noticed that nearly everything is more fun if it is a contest. One day I found a piece of crystalized petrified wood that looks exactly like an angel. I won that day! (So wish we had room for pictures here, but it is in the video for our motel if you would like to see it).

When our oldest was about 5 or 6 (now he is 21) he was wearing a pair of shorts with deep pockets. As he walked along in the stream bed finding petrified wood, droosies, agates and more he kept putting them into his pockets.

Finally the weight was too much and when he put the last one in his shorts just fell off. Right there in the middle of the stream. He was mortified, we were all hysterical and I of course had to snap a picture.

We have been doing this for a decade and a half in the summers. In the past our boys made fun of me for picking up too many rocks like Martin did. I brought whatever seemed interesting or different. The boys are now so much more discerning, only lugging the most amazing finds home.

In recent years, I too have become more selective. I know there are lots of good rocks out there, but now I choose to carry the load of only the best.

It is kind of the same in my life. I am a recovering people pleaser. There was a time when I was young that if anyone asked me to help with anything I said yes, many times regretting it later when I was overburdened with too many irons in the fire.

As I have aged, I have discovered that there are many good rocks (and uses for my time) but it is way more productive to choose the best and focus on those. Less weight to carry back to the truck (and more ability to do a good job on the things I agree to do).

I have to admit that sometimes I still pick up too many treasures (and find myself overcommitted on occasion) out of the streams but we are all a work in progress.

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