A Mega-Complainer Repents

By Dawn Wilson –

The scenery surrounding Temecula, California, is gorgeous. My friend Judy told her daughter, Jennifer, about the time she took a drive through the wine country. Jennifer’s son, Connor, seven-years-old at the time, was sitting nearby, listening to their conversation.

Suddenly he piped up, “Wine country … is that where people go to complain?”

Although everyone laughed at his innocent question, complaining is not all that funny. Complaining – also known as grumbling, whining, murmuring, griping or belly-aching – only makes circumstances worse.

Christians tend to place complaining in a “lesser category” of sin, but God dealt with Israel’s complaints severely: “And the people complained in the hearing of the LORD about their misfortunes, and when the LORD heard it, his anger was kindled, and the fire of the LORD burned among them and consumed some outlying parts of the camp” (Numbers 11:1 ESV).

The Israelites’ attitudes displeased the Lord, not just because they were ungrateful for His provisions, but, at the root, they refused to trust His care, playing into the enemy’s hands. Complaining always opens the door to Satan’s destructive influence (1 Corinthians 10:10).

Complaining is simply one proof of an unbelieving heart. If we truly believe that God is in charge, our complaints about others or our circumstances are actually an accusation against Him (Exodus 16:8; Psalm 106:24-26). A godly perspective believes that God works for our good and can redeem any circumstance (Romans 8:28).

One of Jesus’ disciples, Jude, equated grumbling and complaining with ungodly deeds (1:15-16). Because complaining should never be part of believer’s conversations, the Apostle Paul instructed Christians to do “all things without complaining” (Philippians 2:14 NKJV).

Complaining arises not only from a heart of unbelief, but also from a heart of discontent. The Christian is called to find contentment in Christ (Philippians 4:11; Hebrews 13:5; 1 Timothy 6:8).

I was a mega-complainer as a young college student. I grumbled about the food, teachers, the weather – you name it! But a godly suite-mate cornered me one day while I complained about one of my classes.

“Dawn,” Janie said with love, “I’m concerned for you, because all of your complaints are idle words, and the Bible says you’re going to have to give an account for each one.” She pointed to Matthew 12:36-37. Under great conviction, I joined her in prayer, repenting of this sin God so clearly hates.

Janie then suggested I turn my complaints into trust and my murmuring into praises. It was a lesson I took to heart. I realized I had a choice. I might not be able to choose my circumstances, but I could always watch my tongue and express faith and joy.

Our Own Super Powers

By Rhonda Rhea –

Somebody asked me what super power I would want if I could have any of them. I thought about it, and then I decided on Batman’s. Because as far as I can tell, Batman’s super power is this: having a fat boatload of money. That one just seemed the most reasonable.

After thinking about it a little more, I decided it was entirely conceivable that I’ve already been bitten by a radioactive spider. It would have to have been a spider that had the spider super power of being a regular human. So now that’s my super power. You know. Being a regular human. But again, this worked out okay for Batman.

So I’m not going to get all bent out of shape about not being a super hero. For one thing, getting bent out of shape would make me Mr. Fantastic or Elastic Man or somebody stretchy like that. But mostly because all of that is silly pretend power. I know where the real stuff comes from. We have power available to accomplish everything worthy of accomplishing—all through the power of the Spirit of God.

Through His power and according to His plan, every believer has the amazing opportunity to work for the Kingdom of God. Paul tells us in Ephesians 2:10, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (ESV). I love thinking about the way every task has been long ago hand chosen for each of us individually by a loving Father.

If He hand picks each mission, why would we even for a second wonder where the power would come from to carry out each of those missions? In that same chapter in Ephesians, we’re told, “In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit,” (verse 22, ESV). We never lack the power to carry out whatever job He’s given us to do. That power—His power—dwells in us. First Corinthians 12:6 says that “there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone” (ESV).

We’re not talking about a person’s “abilities” here. Not our strength. Not our intelligence. Not our possessions or our money—even if we have a fat boatload of it. This power is infinitely bigger. We’re empowered by the Holy Spirit of God. Super powers of the highest order.

If you ever find yourself feeling inadequate for a task you believe God has called you to, let me encourage you to remember that you don’t need to hesitate for a second. He will accomplish through you by His indwelling power every job He’s calling you to do. No need to shy away from any task—even those that seem overwhelming in your own non-super-heroic powers.

The power to share His Gospel, for instance, comes directly from the Holy Spirit. Acts 1:8 says that “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses” (NASB). You will receive “power.”

The power to change the world is right there. And it stretches from here to eternity. Without the slightest assistance from Mr. Fantastic.

April Showers

By Liz Cowen Furman –

The thunder boomed. We ran to the windows and watched the rain come down in buckets. I felt like Noah. I looked down from the top of our 20% grade drive and saw several infant canyons forming.

That spring convinced me that there is no way it took several hundred millennia to create THE magnificent canyon. A few hundred wet springs max and voila, the Grand Canyon.

Matthew, our middle son, and I were home alone. We sprang into action with hoes and shovels. Toiling in the icy mountain spring rain, and with fervor, we attempted to redirect the torrents of water. Such a rare (to Colorado) wonderful wet spring caused the drainage gutters to overgrow with thick grass. We hadn’t even noticed the danger growing there. So, with nowhere to run, the water shed to our gravel driveway and more specifically to the middle of the drive.

As it flowed, it took with it the soil and gravel too weak to stand against the pressure and power of the rushing water.

Drenched to the bone and shivering as the clouds rolled away, I noticed several stones stayed put. Those anchored into the ground somehow managed to stand. Some of the trenches were over two feet deep and in only a few minutes.

We walked to the bottom of the driveway and were horrified to see literally several tons of gravel, sand and dirt on the paved street below our house.

I noticed so many analogies in that storm. First, in storms and life it seems, only those anchored to The Rock will stand the test of the really big ones. When tragedy strikes if we aren’t tethered to the Rock we wash out.

Then there is the sad realization that a super storm takes out not only those not anchored but as the water gushes, it sweeps away the surrounding bystanders too. There were several small rocks piled behind the big anchored ones left in the trenches. I want to be one that others can cling to in a storm, not because of me, but because I have the power of Him shining through me.

The most troubling analogy? The weeds that went unnoticed until it was too late. They just grew on the side of the road like some of the sins in our hearts. When the storm came, they kept the safeguard gutters from working. Since it is the time of year for April showers…I’m thinking it might also be time for some spring cleaning. Not just in my house and driveway, but in my heart as well.

The last observation really hit us, for days after the storm. With our wagon and shovels, we had to clean up from the mess the storm left. Just like the storms in our lives, if we let those things go unchecked, then we won’t stand strong in a storm and will have a mess to clean up, too.

If we had just taken inventory of our driveway, a little spring-cleaning, if you will, then when the storm blew through, all we would have had to do is a little emergency adjustment shoveling to make sure the water shed to the gutters.

Starting this spring, I want to do constant inventory so that when the storm rolls in I will be the one standing on the rock for others to cling to. How about you?

Where’s it Hiding?

By Kim Stokely –

“Mom!” My son cried from the kitchen. “Where’s the parmesan cheese?”

“Top shelf of the refrigerator,” I yelled back from the basement. Where it always is, I thought.

“It’s not there.” His voice sounded mournful. Like someone had killed his dog.

I trudged upstairs to find him staring into the open fridge, dejected. At first glance, I didn’t see the missing jar of grated parmesan cheese either, but then, feeling like Gandalf, I moved a gallon of milk and it appeared. “Voila!” I exclaimed as I handed it to my son. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

I like when things that are missing are so easily found.

I’ve come to believe, however, that there’s a black hole in my house sucking in odd socks and lip balm. I don’t know where they get sent, perhaps some distant planet where alien beings only have one foot and dreadfully cold, dry air. It’s amazing how quickly those items disappear from my house. I’m thinking of calling NASA in to investigate.

Some things you misplace and you know they’ll turn up eventually on their own. Things like car keys and cell phones. I’m convinced they roam the house like cats only to reappear when it suits them or they need to be recharged.

Lately, however, I’ve been losing weird things. Like spaghetti squash.

I mean really, how does one lose a spaghetti squash? I remember buying it at the store, but for the life of me, I can’t find it in my car or in the house. Unfortunately, I’m sure in another week, the smell of rotting pulp will lead me to the missing gourd.

In Psalm 139, David tells us that there is never a time we are out of God’s sight. He doesn’t misplace us on some cosmic counter in heaven. We can’t be lost amid a pile of clutter. Even if we want to disappear, there is nowhere we can hide. “If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there” (Psalm 139:8 NIV). My husband, a former Navy submariner, took great comfort in knowing that even though he was on the bottom of the ocean, God could still see and protect him.

It’s a blessing to me as well, to know that I am never out of God’s sight. At least somebody knows where I am, because most days, I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to sniff around my house to try and find that missing squash.

You Guilty Dog!

By Dawn Wilson –

A funny YouTube video, “Which is the Guilty Dog?”, is a priceless example of the guilt response. The video features three adorable dogs responding to the question, “Who did this mess?”

The first time the question is asked, Guilty Dog’s companions turn their heads and look at him. They have no trouble ratting him out! “He’s the guilty one, Mom. Just look at him!”

Guilty Dog squints his eyes.

Then the lady in the video addresses each dog individually. “Cody, did you make this mess? Murphy, did you make this mess? Maggie, did you make this mess?”

Guilty Dog cringes.

“Somebody made it,” the lady says. “Who made it? Who made this mess?”

Overwhelmed, Guilty Dog cowers and leaves the room in shame.

How like humans when we face the sinful messes in our lives. We cringe and want to hide.

I saw that response in my young sons. Adults learn to disguise their guilt – to cover up. But children … not so much. I remember one son, standing before me with chocolate fudge frosting over his top lip. I asked, “Did you eat a cupcake?”

“No, Mom,” he said. I stared him down, stifling a chuckle, until he confessed.

My husband’s family tells a story, passed down as part of their family heritage. Bob and his three siblings faced tough interrogation:

Mom Wilson asked, “Who stole the orange slices?” No one confessed. They blamed each other – even little Jimmy who could barely walk! No one will admit to the “crime” this side of heaven.

As a teenager, I tried to cast blame on others – “Look what he did, God. He’s worse than me!” My sin-hiding skills improved and I thought myself quite righteous.

Yet scriptures I’d heard or memorized haunted me, especially, “All have sinned” and “The wages of sin is death” (Romans 3:23; 6:23 NIV). I recalled that sin brings separation from God (Isaiah 59:2), self-righteousness equals filth in God’s sight (Isaiah 64:6) and good works will never please God (Ephesians 2:9).

I was so proud. I would find a better way to hide sin and be a “good girl.” But God’s Spirit kept bringing sinful attitudes and actions to mind. And Satan piled on too, not knowing he played into God’s plan to redeem me. “You are scum,” the enemy said. “You’re worthless!”

At age 21, while serving as a singer in a revival ministry, I heard the evangelist read these words: “I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!” (Matthew 7:23 NIV). Another version says, “lawbreakers,” and I argued with God. “I’m not a lawbreaker. I’ve never had one traffic ticket; I just speed a little,” I said. “I never cheated on a test. Well, almost never. And I love everyone … except her.”

One Tuesday as I sang “Do You Know My Jesus?” in a Christian high school, I couldn’t shake those words, “I never knew you.” I knew a lot about God, but I didn’t know Him in a personal relationship. I was trying to save myself, but I desperately needed a Savior to change my heart.

I left the microphone in the middle of the song and wept my way to the prayer room—a turning point in my life. God began a work of transformation. Now, when the enemy comes to accuse me, I point to my Savior and say, “Take it up with Jesus. He took my sin and guilt.”

Sweet freedom. This Guilty Dog is righteous and justified in Christ (Romans 3:19-26).

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