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.

The Clothes Make the Man?

By Rhonda Rhea –

Glass half full person. Glass half empty person. I tend to be more of a dribble-whatever’s- in- the- glass- down- my- shirt person. It’s always best if I try to coordinate whatever I’m wearing with the meal of the moment. That’s one big reason I so want a chocolate suit.

My husband? We should always buy him shirts made of ink. Spots under the pocket wouldn’t be spots. They would just be, well, more shirt. They say the clothes make the man. If that’s true, Richie’s clothes make him…INK MAN. Yet you should know (and I’m not saying this with even a hint of sarcasm), “Ink Man” will always be my hero. He has a special “spot” in my heart.

In a spiritual battle, I choose to team up with those who are well-armed. The villains waging war against us in this life are heavier on the evil than any you’ll find in your average super hero movie. Paul tells us in Ephesians 6:1-12, “Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (ESV).

“Cosmic powers over this present darkness”? Nothing in the comics compares. Then again, nothing—imaginary or real—compares with the strength we find in the armor of God. We’re able to stand against evil as we put on that armor. If Tony Stark came strutting up to some giant super villain without his suit, not only would he look ridiculous, but he would also be toast. I can just imagine him trying to shoot power beams out of his hands. Nothing. Or maybe jumping up to fly off, getting nowhere. As a super hero, Tony is nakedly nothing without the suit.

Even worse, he’s defenseless. It would be the ultimate in foolishness for him to even think of going into a battle with an evil nemesis without his shields up.

For us spiritually, we are armed and battle-ready when we take off anything fleshly—all traces of self-sufficiency and those prideful thoughts that seek to deceive us into thinking we have any kind of power of our own we can carry into the fray. Verse 10 in that Ephesians 6 passage makes it clear where our battle-readiness should come from: “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.” His strength. His might. Because it’s His battle. And the next verse tells us we should put on the whole armor “of God.” Not of self. Not of man. Not of any of our own ideas of how super-hero strength should operate. His armor.

No power on this planet or any other can prevail against us when we’re armored up. His truth enables us, His righteousness empowers us, His Gospel of peace emboldens us and the faith He gives us fortifies us. No need for any glass half-full kind of thinking here. We can’t lose.

Battles fought in His strength? I’m happy to tell you in the most positive way that we’re “well-suited” for each and every one.

I Want to be Eddy!

By Liz Cowen Furman –

Since March is big basketball time, I was recalling basketball events in my past. My husband is a coach (a good one) and all three of our boys played. I even coached Micah’s team when he was in 5th grade.

When our oldest was in 9th grade at Conifer High School, he was on the freshman basketball team. Coach Wilson was a wonderful coach, he made the boys believe they could do anything. He also knew the game of basketball, not just how to play, but how to teach others to play the game, which I have discovered is a wonderful combination not often found in coaches.

Our archrival was Evergreen High School and the day before the big varsity game, the freshman team played. My two younger boys and I arrived at Evergreen’s gym over an hour before the freshman game was scheduled to start as I had the wrong time. Typical. The Evergreen varsity team was still practicing.

We quietly sat down in the stands to watch. As I listened to the coach, I heard him shout at one young man, “You be Eddy” and then to my surprise, the entire team tried to figure out what to do to stop Eddy. Aaron Eddy was one of our star varsity players.

I sat there musing about how wonderful it would be to be the big menace. Such a threat that the whole opposing team would be trying to figure out how to stop you. I had to tell his Mom when I saw her the next day. We laughed aloud. I’m sure when she shared that news with her son, he was thrilled.

Later, it struck me. In the spiritual realm, I want to be Eddy!

I want to be so close to Jesus, so in tune with His plan that Satan and his minions will forever be trying to figure out how to get around me.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not taunting Satan. I know he is the ruler of this world, Jesus said so in the book of John. I understand the pain and suffering he can cause. However, I read to the end. We WIN. As long we are on Jesus’ team, no matter how difficult the journey to the finish line, we can know, we win. I take great comfort in that thought!

So don’t lose heart. Stay on the winning team; join with me in being a thorn in the side of the one who causes pain. Let’s be people of prayer, people of action, people of decision and cultivate a thankful heart. Then watch what happens!

Cheering for the Underdog

By Dawn Wilson –

It all began with a tub of crickets.

After a family dinner at an Outback Steakhouse – just my husband and I, our married sons and their families – we all decided to go to my oldest son Robert’s house. Megan, my oldest granddaughter, wanted to show me her newest reptile.

Yes, you read that right. Megan, now 12, adores reptiles. She has a big tri-level tank for them in her bedroom. Meg already had a leopard gecko named Lizzie, a blue-tongued skink named Azul, and a bearded dragon named Odin, but that night everyone wanted to meet Megan’s new friend.

“This is Mushu,” she said. “She’s a frilled dragon.” Now that was a treat, especially when Mushu flared her frills!

But then Robert declared it “feeding time.” The critters usually get meal worms, but tonight was a treat. The four pets would share a delightful tub of live crickets. This “family night” was not for the squeamish!

I watched, fascinated, as my favorite of the reptile clan, Azul, stalked and snapped up crickets with a sweep of his colorful tongue.

“Do you think crickets feel anything?” I suddenly asked the family. Honestly, my youngest son Mike looked at me, wide-eyed, like I might be part reptile. “No, really,” I continued. “I keep thinking about Jiminy Cricket. Do you think they have emotions? Can they feel anything?”

“Not for long!” Robert’s wife Tracy said.

But then, no doubt overcome by the reptiles chomping on scurrying crickets, Carrie, Mike’s wife, started cheering for the little hoppers!

“Run, crickets, run!” She shouted, to my granddaughters’ delight. They chimed in – “Run, crickets, run!”

I’ll never forget that night… Carrie cheering for the underdogs (or rather, the undercrickets). The cheering brought back fond memories of the movie Rudy. America, always bent on success and ladder-climbing, still loves to cheer for underdogs.

We were all once underdogs. Pathetic and incapable of saving ourselves, we didn’t stand a chance. The enemy stalked, desiring to destroy.

But for God, we’d all be without hope and forever lost. While we were dirty sinners, the scriptures tell us, Jesus died for us (Romans 5:6-8). It was not for the righteous He came, but to call sinners to repentance (Luke 5:32); and each time sinners do come to repentance, the angels in heaven rejoice (Luke 15:7, 10).

When I remember all the excitement on our family night—understanding the crickets’ fate and cheering for them to escape—I realize that will be nothing compared to the eternal joy over sinners escaping Satan’s grasp as they believe in the Savior’s death and resurrection on their behalf. Can you hear heaven cheering for the desperate underdogs, now overcomers?

“But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:57 NIV).

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