I Will Find A Way!

By Nina Medrano –

Do you ever find yourself repeatedly hum a familiar song, absentmindedly, singing only parts of the lyrics that come to mind?  Often, when this happens to me, I am preoccupied and therefore miss the message of the song stirring in my spirit.

It has been three days now that my spirit has been stirring this song in my gut.  Like a scratch on a CD, the same lyric is stuck, repeating itself over and over—unable to skip to the next stanza.

“Blessed be your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be your name”

I’m sitting traffic, singing the same lyrics over and over when suddenly the Holy Spirit descends upon me a heaviness of heart for those whose road is marked with suffering and cannot bless His name because of the pain in the offering.

It’s hard to lift your arms in praise when they have grown weary year after year waiting for breakthrough.  It’s hard to praise God when you are losing your home; when your husband did not come home last night; when you can’t pay the electric in the winter; when you cannot afford to get septic; when your teen-age daughter gets diagnosed with pre-cancer cells; when your wife leaves you with three small children to care for; when your First Time Home buyers credit check is delayed—going on a year.

“…When the darkness closes in, Lord
I WILL FIND A WAY… to say…
Blessed be the name of the Lord”

Often, life’s challenges leave a mark in our lives that render us stuck and unable to skip to the next stanza of God’s “streams of abundance flow.”

The power of praise is the weapon that releases God’s power to move on our behalf.  No matter what the circumstance, whether He gives or takes away, whether there is more pain than joy in the offering, we must resolve in our heart to FIND A WAY to bless His name.  With teeth gritting, FIND A WAY!  As if your life depends on it, FIND A WAY to say “Blessed by Your Name” and watch God move like a mighty warrior on your behalf.

^“You are a hiding place for me; You, Lord, preserve me from trouble, You surround me with songs and shouts of deliverance. Selah” (Psalm 32:7 AMP).

Nina Medrano lives in Lubbock TX with Pepper Jack, her rescued Jack Russell Terrier.

Song lyrics from “Blessed Be Your Name,” by Matt Redman.

Get the Brush Out of Your Life

By Teresa G. Lusk –

My middle child has hair just liker her mom’s, thick and long. Brushing her hair is an ordeal daily. To make the hair brushing process smoother, I asked her not to bring me the little blue brush she likes so much and instead use only a large squared brush that hurts less and gets tangles out quicker.

The explanation to why she should use the large brush had been something she heard several times and there was no doubt to why she should use it, to keep her from pain.  Still, she often chose to bring the little hurtful brush and all I heard was crying and complaining as was the ritual.

In our home, we try to use simple opportunities to teach life lessons as we did that day when I had had it. Again, she brought the little blue brush shortly after the tears rolled in. I began to explain that the brush was like sin in our life. That we have a choice to do the right thing or the wrong thing according to the expectation God has for us. If we continue to choose the wrong thing, then we will have pain in our life. That brush was like sin in her  life and when something is causing her pain, she needed to do something about that.

Then, the big question proceeded. I said, “If your brush is causing you to hurt, what should you do with it”? She said, “Get rid of it”! That is right! Get rid of the brush that causes pain in your life. To the trash the brush went and we added on more life lesson to her little heart and mind.

Teresa G. Lusk is the author of Good Enough to be a Homemaker and CEO and a Motivational Speaker. Visit www.teresalusk.com for more information.

Better Part of Valor

By Jane Thornton –

Prom night, thirty years later, still resonates with emotions. Mostly self-mockery at this stage, but I remember the heightened feelings of anticipation and giddiness. Hours spent applying my first set of fake fingernails, a mad dash to the florist for the forgotten boutonniere. For years I planned to wear the floating dress of a southern belle, but, as an oh-so-adult senior, I switched to the sleek, sophisticated look of polyester.

That night, adorned in chic maroon (not pastel), I traipsed into the ladies’ room with a friend to freshen my makeup. Among the throng in front of the mirror, I spotted a dress with vaguely familiar lines.

I elbowed my friend. “Look at her dress. It’s an awful lot like mine except hers vees in the front and mine in the back.”

Eyeing the unaware target of our interest, my friend nodded. “It even has the little cape top.” (I told you this was thirty years ago).

A disdainful sniff scrunched my nose. “The vee in back is much more original.” But my eye was continually drawn to the similarities. “Lisa, I think it’s exactly the same, but she’s wearing it backward . . .”

Slowly an inkling of the mind-boggling reality seeped into my consciousness and horror dawned. “Oh no! I’m wearing my dress backward!”

My awkward words spilled into a sudden silence.

So many lessons can be drawn from that day and night. Vanity. Priorities. Friendship. The list continues. But the moral that resounds over the years is that I should have kept my big mouth shut.

As James 3:2 says, “For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way” (NLT). The price on prom night was just a few moments of excruciating embarrassment followed by a hands-on tutorial in learning to laugh at oneself. At other times in my life, the damage has been much worse.

I have lost count (and hope my children have also) of the number of bedtimes where I had to apologize for my harsh words during the day. I fear my example for handling stress has put the penalty for my loss of control onto my kids.

Although I know I’m forgiven, I still wince at certain memories. More than once my attempts at humor have resulted in a lack of discretion. My unruly tongue has victimized my husband, my friends, my siblings, and my children. Not malice, but a quick and thoughtless mouth, is the culprit.

Let’s not turn this into the tirade I deserve, but thank God for His incomprehensible grace in forgiving each stumble and listen to His guidance for the future:

“Do not be quick with your mouth,
do not be hasty in your heart
to utter anything before God.
God is in heaven
and you are on earth,
so let your words be few.
A dream comes when there are many cares,
and many words mark the speech of a fool” (Ecclesiastes 5:2-3 NIV).

Manna

By Heather Allen –

It is cold tonight.  I am curled up under a blanket with a book and cup of coffee in hand.  I wanted to read about Moses and Israel and have it stay on the page. I wanted to forget my cares, but that is not to be. Instead, I am entrenched in the desert with the Israelites. As their story weaves through mine, I cannot help wonder if staying in the desert longer than necessary is just something humans do?  Wasn’t it just this afternoon I was concocting a scheme that might help me feel more in control?  I would have been tempted to gather extra Manna with the Israelites. I might have even drawn up maps and offered help planning the route.  Whenever I am afraid, my natural response is to come up with a plan.  Moses’ response was to fall before God.  I think I need a new response.

It seems there are new beliefs built on the journey to the promised land.  God uses my situations to press me towards a decision. Do I count on Him or do I build my own safety net?  I cannot do both.  I either set my own course or I believe God.

Not so many years ago I encountered a situation that snuck up on me, sabotaging me.  I felt like someone had tossed me into a sea of garbage and left me there to try to swim alone if I had the will or strength.  I did not see it coming and as wave after wave crashed on my head I just stood watching, bewildered, mouth gaping. God – are you seeing this?  I am drowning in accusations.  I do not have the reserves to handle this.  After the torrent I only heard one thing.  So I obeyed. Somehow I did not throw-up as I quietly said, “I love you” in response.  I was met with a glare that shriveled my socks.  But I kept myself still, like a child determined to win a staring contest.  I came away with something that I could not forget, that was not washed away as I cried myself to sleep.  Protection does not always look like I think it should, but the wounds were not left gaping.  I was tended through the night.

I love the idea of being hidden in Christ. Of drawing near, and finding a place in His shelter.  I think about Him welcoming me into an inner sanctuary, a private dwelling where I am safe. The thought of Him wanting me to be there is what brings tears to my eyes. The Israelite’s day camp was overshadowed by a cloud, which provided shade from the blazing sun. At night a pillar of fire burned with heat and light. At any point the people could find physical proof that God was with them. He was covering them. There may not be a cloud or pillar of fire noticeably moving as I roam, but the same protection covers anyone who is numbered as His. Light dwells with Him.Yet He still wants me close. Nothing is hidden from Him.Yet He is the only secure place to hide. When all that can be shaken, is shaken, He remains.

“But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear Him, on those whose hope is in His unfailing love, to deliver them from death and keep them alive in famine” (Psalm 33:18 NIV).

Heather Allen spends most of her time carrying for her hubby and 3 kids.  Check out her blog: http://www.thebloodknot.blogspot.com/

Blessing the Generations

By Marty Norman –

It’s that time of year again. Seems like I just get the Christmas decorations put away for the season when it’s time to climb back up into the attic and start the process over again.  Where does the time go? Now it’s a new year, and I’ve got to pack everything up again for next year. It’s a never ending cycle.

Traditionally New Year’s Day is a new beginning for me. While the football games rage, I calmly back away Christmas while contemplating the year to come. Somehow there’s symmetry in this order.

But this year I’m doing something different. Instead of making my typical New Year’s Resolutions, which include being kind to others, losing ten pounds, and getting more organized, this year I’m only doing spiritual resolutions. Time is a-moving and if I’m going to bless the generations I best come up with a plan.

The question is, if I died tomorrow would I have completed everything spiritually I wanted to complete? The answer, of course, is no, although it may be different for each of us.

For me, I ask myself: Have I memorized all the scripture I want to have at the tip of my tongue? Have I read the Bible cover to cover? Do I pray by my bed on my knees at night as a model for my grandchildren?  Have I taught them my favorite hymns and Christmas carols?   When I’m gone what will they say about their Marme?

Recently I took my four-year-old grandson to Target. The church was participating in Franklin Graham’s “Samaritan Purse” Christmas boxes so I wanted him to experience selfless giving. The rules were set before we walked in the door. We were to buy nothing for him; everything we purchased was for others.

He decided he wanted to do a box for a 4 year-old boy and 6 year-old girl, so the search was on. What to put in the boxes that a boy 4 and a girl 6 would like?  An hour and a half later, and one hundred dollars lighter, we had our boxes filled. Not an inexpensive proposition, the lessons learned were well worth the money spent. My grandson had a huge dose of thinking of someone other than himself. And praise God, he rose to the occasion.

After our shopping spree, we needed a refueling trip to the ice cream store. I used the time to fill in the fill-in-the-blank letter included in the box. I wrote as he dictated, introducing himself by naming his favorite food, drink, games, etc.

But the surprise and gift of the day came when he answered the fill in the blanks… I love Jesus because… His answer:  “he loves us and let’s us pray, and he hears us right now.” Out of the mouths of babes.

So this year my New Year’s Resolutions have a new twist, nothing for me – all for God. You would have thought I’d have learned the lesson that my 4-year-old grandson learned that day. But I guess it’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. Although this dog no longer hunts, I can still bark and find bones.

So time’s a-wasting. Let’s get this New Year’s Resolution format down to an understandable formula. Let’s bless the generations later as we do the work for the kingdom now.

Happy New Year’s and Good Hunting!

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