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A devotional site I write for sends one to my email box each morning. They are free and many wonderful women write for this site. Today, Becky wrote about her observations watching Prince Caspian, the movie. She noticed how Aslan, the lion who symbolizes Christ for CS Lewis, doesn’t dash to the aid of the children in battle, but watches and lets them see they have it within them to win. By knowing he is on their side and almighty, it gives them the courage they need.

You can read her whole devo here – http://powertochange.com/blogposts/2012/10/30/buck-up/

She says that Christianity is not a spectator religion. We don’t lie helplessly waiting on God to fix it all for us.

I grew up with Mighty Mouse as my hero. He would sing as he zipped to rescue Pearl Pureheart from the clutches of evil, “Here I come to save the day.” She would helplessly cry out, more like a Pitiful Pearl, for her hero and each time he’d be there.

I also grew up with the idea that dads were supposed to be heroes and protectors.  Father Knows Best. Leave it to Beaver.

So it was easy for me to picture my Heavenly Father this way. When He didn’t rush in to save the day, I wondered if He was angry with me. What had I done?

What I had done is forget that He had already sent His Son to save me by dying on the Cross. He had sent His Holy Spirit to dwell in my heart as my Guide. He had trained me up through His Word so that I could do all things through Him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:13).

I recall my Dad watching closely as I wobbled on my bike without training wheels. He was there to cheer me on, give me instructions, and when I fell, to brush me off, wipe my tears, and place me back on the bike. Had he not let me try on my own, I would never had learned.  I learned because I had confidence that he was there watching – just in case, as Alsan did for the children.

My Heavenly Father has already prepared me for the earthly battles of my life. I know He is there watching, just in case. Sure, He may swoop in and rescue me from danger. But He also loves me enough to let me grow in strength and confidence by discovering I can do more than I thought I could with what He has already given me.

My God is more than Mighty Mouse or a super dad. He is my Rock, my Guide and my Strength.  May I cry out more in praise than for help.

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A friend and I drove from Texas to Arkansas to visit a new church. It is one of our ministries as head of our denominational women to keep in touch with the ladies in each church and plug them into our programs and mission efforts. Besidies, we were told the fall colors were beginning to pop, so it was an opportune time.

© Yan Zommer | Dreamstime.com

© Yan Zommer | Dreamstime.com

Now, being a Texas Hill Country girl, I always have found  God in the mesquite and cedar laden humps on the horizon. But, these were mountains looming ahead. They reminded by of a child’s art project- as if God had taken green styrofoam and plastered Trix cereal all over it. The colors of yellows, oranges, red and a bit of purple bumps blanketing the mounts was breathtaking, even in a drought year. Each turn of the road led us to new oohs and ahhs, unable to decide which scene splayed before our windshield was the best.

I had seen the Ozarks in college, but it was on a bus driving through the middle of them on the way to a church revival. The saying, “you can’t see the forest for the trees” is true.

It makes me wonder, if I let God lift me up, could I see more than the roots and trunk of the blessings he has placed before me? What awesome marvels  would our souls see if we had a panoramic view the way I did driving  today?

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Love the LORD, all you his saints!
  The LORD preserves the faithful
  but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride.
 Be strong, and let your heart take courage,
  all you who wait for the LORD!
(Psalm 31:23-24 ESV)

We have only two choices. Act on our own, or wait upon the Lord’s timing.  We can have the faith that God will keep His promise or strike out on our own to usher it along.

Abraham made that mistake with Hagar, his wife’s maidservant. He believed God’s promise that he would be a father of a great nation one day. But when Sarah, his wife, didn’t conceive in her old age, he thought he had to get the ball rolling.The result is he became the father of two nations and they have been at war ever since.

Now, I am not saying we sit on our hands and do nothing. Quite the contrary. We keep doing what God has called us to do, trusting that, in His perfect timing, the fruits of our labor will be revealed. God’s ways are often more like a crock pot than a microwave.

In this instant-result orientated world, that even more than ever it takes three things, as the psalmist says –

  • Swallowing our pride
  • Being strong in our faith
  • Having the courage to keep on keeping on

Wait for it. Keep believing – but keep at the task.

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A dear friend, who is a fabulous prayer warrior  and prayer composer, emailed several of us to remember to pray for our clergy.  How often do we stop to do that?

Whether you call them Reverend, Pastor, Father or Brother, they carry a cross far more than many of us could bear. Because they are about the Lord’s work they face demons on a daily basis. We, as their congregation, put so many demands on them, and they give so much in return. They are at the job 24/7. Even on vacation, they are on duty for God. They need to be lifted in prayer – often!

Here is her beautifully written prayer. Thanks, Pam!

Dear Lord, We offer you thanks for our church leadership.  You have sent ___________ to guide us in worship, learning and service. We praise you for their ministry.  Be with them as they seek your will  and lead each of us in the path of righteousness.  Strengthen our clergy ,when they meet adversity, with even greater resolve to follow you.  These things we ask in the name of Jesus. Amen

 

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I found God today in a post of Truth Media’s Christian Women Today. I have been writing for them for years, but so do some very God-given talented women, and men. Today Kristi hit the nail on the head and it pierced my heart.  She stated that when we worry, it is stating our problems are too small for God. Wow. That put’s it into perspective, does it not?

You can read her whole devo by clicking here http://powertochange.com/blogposts/2012/10/22/worry-the-final-frontier/

One verse I always come back to, and have throughout my life, is Matthew 6:25 – Be ye not anxious about your life, what ye shall eat, or drink or about your body what ye put on.  We hear that worry will not add another day to our lives. In fact medical science shows it takes them away.

Worry stagnates us in a pool of inaction. We cannot move forward. It is similar to cud that a cow chews – over and over and over. It keep returning. The more we mouth it the bigger it seems to grow until it begins to gag us.  It can consume our moment, our day and our lives if we let it.

The opposite of worry is faith-filled peace. That is when we grasp a smidgen of an idea of how majestic our God really is. He is bigger than our problems. He is mightier than whatever evil is present. He is more aware of the present and future that we can ever be. It is as if He has the view from Mount Everest and us from an anthill.

Yet we all worry, don’t we? Perhaps that is why there are so many Biblical references to not worrying. What is your favorite “don’t worry ” verse?

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Last night at our Toastmasters meeting, a friend confessed how driving in the construction zones makes her jittery.

Those overbearing concrete barriers appear to narrow down the lane. She said she prays all the way through them, with her eyes open of course.

Another member said, “Here’s a tip. Keep your eyes straight ahead and fixed on an object in front of you. Don’t look at the barriers. If you do, you might swerve into them.”

 

The proverbial light bulb clicked on. Literally. His advice sounded like a verse in Proverbs. So I called up my online concordance. Yep, there it was.

Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you. Proverbs 4:25

Both were right. When we feel life is narrowing in and there is danger, temptation, or old destructive habits on both sides looming up like concrete – cold, unforgiving and forbearing – then we need to do three things:

Pray (with our eyes open).

Look straight ahead and fix our eyes on the goal – Jesus.

Keep moving, even if it is at a snail’s pace. Don’t let fear or anxiety stop us dead in our tracks.

Be aware of what is around us, just don’t concentrate on it.  If we let our glance veer to the left or right, our minds and bodies may go that way as well.  Result – we will crash. We know what is there, we don’t need to dwell on it. Instead, fix our eyes on things that are above. Seek Jesus up ahead, guiding us down the straight and narrow path. He has already prepared our path.

Trust in that and keep moving towards His light, straight into His waiting arms.

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A dear friend of mine, R.W. Ley, is a Christian suspense fiction author and also a public speaker. She spoke to my churchwomen’s conference over the weekend on the boxes we all carry.

Many of us use them for storage. We store not only the fond memories but the negative ones as well. You know the ones- the hurts, the grudges, the “I’ve been wronged” angers- things we can pull out whenever we need an excuse for what we are feeling or how we are acting. Some people carry them for decades. But that only weighs us down and wedges a wall between us and God’s mercy. How can we ever be healed if we are not willing to let go of all that we have stored up in our hearts?

Others use their boxes to hide in so they can barricade themselves from others so they never can be hurt again. It is the touch-me not attitude. Have you ever seen that little leaf? It grows close to the ground like a minuscule fern. Touch the leaves and they close up tight for hours.

But, God calls us to use our boxes as a platform. We need them so we can stand above whatever life throws in our direction and then bend down and help others up onto their up-turned boxes. God is in the up-turning business. It may not be pleasant to revisit all those negative things so we can toss them. It may be scary to step out of our hiding place and choose to be vulnerable. It may feel odd to be flipped around to where He can use us as a beacon to others.  It was a great talk.

On the way home, I pondered over her message about boxes.

There is one thing we must never do. Put God in a box. Just as it is wrong to harbor old feelings, or barricade ourselves from the world, or shrink from stepping up and out as a witness for His love, it is equally wrong to make God into our faulty image. We should not box in His grace with regulations and rules that keep others out of our churches or out of our lives. Too many Christians have boxed oeven other believers out on issues such as dress styles, whether or not to dance, drink wine, or how often we should take communion. Are we allowed accoustical guitars and drums in worship, or only an organ, or a piano, or no instruments at all?

We, who are supposed to be united in Christ, have segmented ourselves. The foot has been severed. So has the hand, the nose, the ears. How attractive to others is that? We push and battle for souls – no, don’t go to church over there. Open our box and come in. Their box is too confining for you, or their box is not confining enough so it might lead to sin. We will make you fit just right.

The religious authorities tried to box Jesus into their definition of a Messiah. When He did not fit, they turned away or declared him a blasphemous fraud.  God calls us to think out of the box. It is then that we can witness His miracles in our lives and the ones of those around us.  We can be vulnerable and still trust because, like an invisible and unmeasurable shield, He is our protection. Besides, what we don’t box in we have less of a tendency to hoard or claim as exlusively ours. All God has given freely we must receive, and then be wiling to share without boxing it up.

The only box we need is the one God gives us as a gift through accepting Christ- His eternal love. And that box has no boundaries.

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Plants were used in Jesus’ parables – fig trees, vines, mustard  seeds. Plants seemingly grow in God’s timing.

I bought an orchid at the grocery store – on clearance for $8.99. It only requires three ice cubes a week, so I feed it on Sunday when I come home from church. That way I usually remember to do that.

Its blooms lasted for months, then dropped off. For several more months I just had a green leafed plant, but soon a new little leaf emerged from the center, so I watched and waited. Then, one day, a little stick began to emerge. It grew, lengthened and then got bumps on it.  It bloomed again! I was told by several people that doesn’t always happen. Lo and behold, history repeated itself. It bloomed a third time the next year.

All I do is give it water on Sunday and make sure it has the right exposure of light. Each spring I watch in anticipation as it grows a long stick, then the little protrusions which burst into delicate white flowers for a season. I come home and stare at it doing it’s thing, growing.  It makes me smile. It is like watching a miracle unfold in slow motion over the weeks it takes for the stem to lengthen and bloom.

Does God do that with me? May I keep growing and blooming in my season for Him, being fed with the Living Water on Sundays and the Light of the World during the week.

A fellow writer for Power to Change, Kristi, wrote about how a dead stick in the dirt held a message for her. Click here –http://powertochange.com/blogposts/2012/10/13/from-the-inside-out/

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Twice this week I found God in a prayer, or should I say as the result of one.

Last Saturday I went to a Toastmaster meeting. It was unseasonably cold outside, and inside. The public building’s temperature control was automatically set and no one knew how to change it. On Friday it has been in the 80’s. Saturday, it was in the 40’s. So, my fingers shrank and when I got home, I noticed the little ring I had bought in an antique shop in England (my once in a life time trip last summer) was no longer on my finger. I panicked. Like the woman with the lost coin I searched, and I searched – my car, my clothes, my purse, the floor, the garage, the floor again. Then I had a nice cry. I had been there all day and drank a lot of hot tea to keep warm. So I had used the facilities a lot as well. The cleaning staff were johnny on the spot, emptying the trash cans throughout the day. I envisioned the ring inside a wadded up paper towel in a sack, now lying in a dumpster amidst tons of other sacks.

Sunday in the pew I prayed. God, I know this is a little thing in comparison to the other prayers you are hearing in this church today, and a bit silly,  but I really loved that ring.  A thought hit my brain – call my Toastmaster friend whom I had help gather up all the stuff at the end of the day.  So after services, I did. She went to look in the trunk of her car and rummaged through the boxes. There it was! What a loving Lord!

The second prayer was not from my lips. It was an invocation to start a meeting given by my grown son. I can honestly say I do not remember when I’ve heard him pray out loud an impromptu prayer  – a prayer in his own words and not from a prayer book or Scripture – in a group setting.  For years he never went to church. The prayer was heartfelt, warm and honest.  My heart soared with it to Heaven.

Where did you find God today? Was it as a result of a prayer, too?

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This was in another email I recevied from a great friend– I think it is originally from theUK or Canada because they use ‘  as a quotation mark whereas we Americans  use “. Will you choose the Son today?
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.
He said, ‘Sir, you don’t know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly… He often talked about you, and your love for art.’ The young man held out this package. ‘I know this isn’t much. I’m not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.’
The father  opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.. ‘Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It’s a gift.’
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. ‘We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?’
There was silence…
Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, ‘We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.’
But the auctioneer persisted. ‘Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?’
Another voice angrily. ‘We didn’t come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh’s, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real bids!’
But still the auctioneer continued. ‘The son! The son! Who’ll take the son?’
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. ‘I’ll give $10 for the painting…’ Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
‘We have $10, who will bid $20?’
‘Give it to him for $10. Let’s see the masters.’
The crowd was becoming angry. They didn’t want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel.. ‘Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!’
A man sitting on the second row shouted, ‘Now let’s get on with the collection!’
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. ‘I’m sorry, the auction is over.’
‘What about the paintings?’
‘I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will… I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.

The man who took the son gets everything!

God gave His son over 2,000 years ago to die on the Cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: ‘The Son, the Son, who’ll take the Son?’
Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything!

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