All in Holy Spirit
My husband travels for work. He usually leaves on Mondays and returns early Friday afternoons. He keeps me informed of his itinerary regularly.
Some weeks I do really well with time management. I complete certain tasks on certain days. Then there are those weeks I piddle around not really accomplishing anything. With his return day in mind, I feel like I have plenty of time and put things off until the last minute.
In 1990, cell phones were uncommon. I booked a flight from Dallas, Texas to Denver, Colorado to visit my parents. I was a single mom with two small children. What was I thinking to make a trip like this without another adult? We discussed the flight information through home phones.
Holy brothers—oh my goodness! Yet that is what we are. We, you and I and those Judean believers, are holy—sacred, pure, blameless by Christ’s atonement (2:17). We are set apart to live as holy, separated from sin, since we confess Jesus as our apostle and high priest. And we share in the heavenly calling: to confess Jesus as apostle and high priest to all who will listen, so they too may be holy.
Ladies, put yourselves in the shoes of Jesus’ closest followers in the forty days between resurrection Sunday and His ascension. Think how absolutely amazed on one hand and bewildered on the other you would have felt. He was alive! He was the Messiah as the prophets of old said! There would indeed be a kingdom of God on earth! But He would be leaving—it would be up to you to testify to the world about this kingdom. Oh yes, and I have promised you a gift from the Father; only you must wait for that gift (Acts 1:1-10).
As I sat on a bench at the end of the trail that beautiful summer morning, a distant hot air balloon floated into view over the Wasatch. The rays of sunrise capturing its brilliant colors penetrated my solitude. My spirit soared, just a little, above the mundane.
In my high school days I participated in as many sports as a girl could in the late 50s. Basketball turned out to be my game of choice due to my height. The basketball-cum-track coach figured she could capitalize on my long legs in the high jump, so she added me to the track team. And when she needed a fourth for the girls’ relay at the last minute, I was up for the challenge. Much to my horror I did not make the transfer. I dropped the baton!
By the end of May the Covid threat was lessening, so when aunt ‘Chelle called to recruit blueberry pickers, grandson #3 and I jumped at the chance. It was a gorgeous day. Didn’t matter that we had to drive twenty minutes. Didn’t matter that they had to take our temperature. We were free, our masks were off, and the blueberries were plentiful. Armed with the secret to efficiency—attach your pail to your belt so you can use both hands—we found a row to ourselves.
Paul was on a roll: Mark my words! (5:2), you foolish Galatians! (3:1). They were in Christ by faith; so are we. They were set free by Christ for freedom (5:1); so are we. They were called to be free (5:13), as are we. High time we, along with those Galatians, put our own personal exclamation marks on Paul’s words.
I looked down at my text and laughed, “About to be in my way.” What I meant to say was, “About to be ON my way.” I had intended to let a friend know of my plan, but had inadvertently led myself to ponder my mistake.
In my way – how many times have I done just that – gotten in my own way of doing things God’s way?
Truth is ladies, we cannot transform lives; only the Spirit can. As promised, Jesus sent the Spirit of truth (John 14:16-17) to His bewildered band of followers at Pentecost, resulting in 3000 plus conversions that day (Acts 2:41). The spiritual regeneration of Paul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:1-19) was astonishing. We read of many others living by the Spirit from the moment of their transformation. Apparently though, the Galatians had started along that path but were now out of step with Him.
When we moved to Texas from southern Ontario some 40 odd years ago, I was so excited about the prospect of planting a vegetable garden, nurturing gorgeous roses, and harvesting pecans from the tree in my spacious back yard. In Ontario I had managed a small plot of veggies and babied along some hybrid teas, considering the short growing season. Why, you couldn’t plant beans until the 9th of June! Sad to say though, in Tyler my efforts were in vain—the pecans were wormy and tough to crack, black spot got the best of the roses, rhubarb couldn’t stand the heat, the carrots were woody. But oh my, how the weeds did flourish. Since I had assigned weed control to my seven-and-eight-year-olds, they hated that garden. After one season of crop failure, we all quit.
As tragic as the loss of the perfection of Eden was, as redeeming as Gethsemane and Golgotha were, as eternal as the garden party in heaven will be, today we live in the garden we are planted in ladies. How best to bloom where God planted me, I ask.
Ladies, all the answers to the big questions seem to radiate out from my God belief. Certainly that is true about the moral question: how does one know right from wrong? Standing on God’s truth gives the believer solid footing, compared with the slippery slope of the flat-out untruths and half-truths of secular insight.
I scampered for shelter from tending the burn pile. The rumbling thunder signaled the arrival of yet another Spring storm. From my porch perch, I gazed at the darkened sky and marveled at what I saw—birds barely in view calmly soaring in and out of the clouds. With time, my eyes focused well enough to count to twenty-one. I wanted to imagine twenty-one eagles soaring above reminding me that I too could ‘soar like an eagle’ when I trusted in God’s power for my life. I knew better, though.
I grew up in a small Texas town of less than 2,000 people. My parents took me to church faithfully. I would like to say I listened attentively to the pastor’s every word. Truth be told, my best friend and I had other things vying for our attention. We would pass notes, play tic-tac-toe, and draw funny faces on the missionaries’ pictures on the back of the bulletin each week.
When teenagers want to convey that something touches your heart, they might say that thing "gets you in the feels." Another example is if someone is emotional, or she wants to talk about her feelings, she would be, "in her feels."
I have a treasure, and so does every other person who has accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. Paul addresses this treasure in 2 Corinthians. He calls it God’s light! He further explains that it’s the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
I enjoy going shopping with my oldest daughter. She has a fun sense of style, and she encourages me to bring color into my wardrobe which gives me a “new look.” Without her encouragement, and sometimes honesty, my closet would be a color range of grays and blacks.
I love this part of Paul’s letter that he wrote to the Colossian church. It reminds me what we as believers are capable of with the help of the Holy Spirit. We have the power to gain knowledge and understanding of God’s word so that we can share it with others. We are instruments used by God to speak His truth and show His love regardless where He sends us.
The nation Israel had turned their heart against God and was suffering the consequences. The Midianites had been ruling over Israel’s land for seven years. They would camp out, wait, and destroy crops and livestock that Israel worked so hard to produce. The Israelites so feared the Midianites that they would try and find shelter in mountain clefts, caves, and strong structures. The Midianites made living conditions so unbearable that Israel cried out to the Lord for help.
