Backward Thinking

By Cynthia Ruchti –

A woman with an often high stress job as a nurse in a small hospital gained a reputation as the town’s go-to person for all things medical that didn’t require a doctor. Decades before the advent of nurse hotlines, she created her own by default.

Before people began to refer to it as 24/7, she remained available night and day. Laboring women showed up at her door to ask if it was too early to go to the maternity ward and what they could do to ease the backache. Phone calls split the night with the question, “What can I try now? Jerry’s cough is worse,” or “The baby has this rash…”

The woman with the homemade hotline attended to every need with uncommon patience and compassion.

That came as a surprise to her children.

After long hours at the hospital and middle of the night ambulance runs and too little sleep, after tending to the needs of others, she was sometimes short and impatient with her own family. She ran out of patience because she’d spent it all on other people.

We know God is able to expand our capacity for patience to meet the breadth of our need for it. But fatigue too often wins out. And too many times the world outside our front door gets first pick of the patience.

It’s clear though that the Lord intended His life lessons to apply to the way we treat one another at home as well as how we treat people outside the walls of home. Not instead of, but in addition to. By His power.

That thought hit close to…home…this week. Am I only patient with my family members if I happen to have some left over after serving others? That can’t be what the Lord meant.

AUTHOR QUOTE: Home is a proving ground—not a scrap heap—for the kindness we show others.

“I will try to walk a blameless path, but how I need your help, especially in my own home, where I long to act as I should” (Psalm 101:2 LB).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, whose debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home (Abingdon Press)—explores the “proving ground” of loving when it doesn’t make sense or seem fair. Cynthia writes and produces The Heartbeat of the Home radio broadcast. Read more about these and other projects at www.cynthiaruchti.com.

Love the One You’re With

By Cynthia Ruchti –

How long ago was that song written? Relationally a disaster in the making, the popular song said, “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

Not great counsel for sustaining a marriage, but good advice for contentment with other issues.

Our yard was dipped in liquid nitrogen last night. I awoke to a frosty scene. The temp isn’t bad for this time of year—twenty-two balmy degrees. But my computer’s screensaver is calling to me—a thatched hut in Tahiti with a crystal-clear infinity pool spilling over into a sun-soaked turquoise ocean.

That’s where I’d rather be. Someplace tropical. Warm. Where I could sit outside to read a book without risk of frostbite. Where I could eat seafood and a crisp salad under the stars. (Okay, technically, nothing’s stopping me from doing that here, but lettuce doesn’t fare well in a deep freeze, which is what the weatherman’s predicting for later this week).

I watch the realty—as opposed to reality—shows on HGTV and wonder what it must be like to have an outdoor room you can use year ’round. The wicker furniture on my front porch is buried under a foot of snow right now. On my porch!

The Lord was at my elbow this morning as I looked out over the white-on-white scene. “Lord, what am I going to do about the mismatch between what my world looks like and where I wish I was?”

He whispered, “Take pictures.”

Huh?

“Take pictures and send them to the young woman at church who sets up the data projection slides for worship lyric backgrounds. She’s always looking for new photography to set the stage for worship.”

Turn my heavy heart into worship? What a novel idea!

It worked. I ran outside with my camera to take advantage of my surroundings and the artistic beauty of a Creator God who thought the world would miss something if it didn’t have a place for snow and cold.

With His help, I found a way to be “content whatever my circumstances.” If I couldn’t be with the setting I loved, I could love the setting I was with—to totally butcher the song’s original lyrics.

Did I say “butcher”? Maybe “improve” is a better word. And how might that principle play out in other “hard to love” situations?

PRAYER: Lord, whether it’s an icy morning or a tough assignment or a person I’m having a hard time loving, help me find ways to love the one I’m with, to take a snapshot of the underlying beauty or the You I failed to see in the picture.

“I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances,” (Philippians 4:11b NIV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer and producer of the radio ministry THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME and Professional Relations Liaison for 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.

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.

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