What moves you?
I mean … moves you to action … compels you to do something.
Anger? Injustice? Anger can motivate.
All in Prayer
What moves you?
I mean … moves you to action … compels you to do something.
Anger? Injustice? Anger can motivate.
What do you build on?
For many years … I found hope and joy from my next vacation or the next new, fun thing for my house or fancy meals eating out.
I built my hope on the things money can buy.
Like an inflated ball is not designed to stay underwater, we are not designed to suppress our feelings. Doing so results in harmful health consequences.
God’s Word to us is to be read, studied, applied, obeyed, and prayed.
The scent of Pine stirred childhood memories of visiting my father’s “office,” a portable building beside the railroad tracks. Mondays through Fridays he loaded freshly cut Pine timber for shipping to a paper mill miles away. The scents and sounds of that busy spot returned as I watched a storm-damaged Pine tree transform into piles of sawdust and debris.
Through the years, I’ve had the opportunity to correspond with Christian friends from various countries. I’ve particularly noticed that they always include a blessing at the beginning and the end of their correspondence, whether written or emailed. My typical American reply seems shallow in comparison to the richness of theirs, yet attempting to add a benediction always seems somewhat contrived.
I’m enjoying this season of life as a grandmother. I, and others like me, especially ‘look with favor’ into the smiles and twinkly eyes of the little ones we love so much. Their youthfulness seems particularly vulnerable to all the potential snares and dangers that lie ahead of them. I’m paying attention in a different way than I did as a young parent. I look with an expanded heart that’s grown wiser and, hopefully, more compassionate through the years.
Normally optimistic, returning home, I fell into the blahs. I couldn’t even really put my finger on why I was blah. I bet you’ve had those seasons, perhaps during winter and longing for spring as I was!
Have you had that deep night of the soul experience when no words would come as you tried to present Jesus your need? I have. Those are times I’ve experienced that peace that makes no sense (Philippians 4:6-7). I can’t explain it, only experience the truth.
Flower children, hippies, and the unmistakable aroma of incense filled the streets and shops along “The Drag,” the street beside the university where I studied during the early 70’s.
Downsizing required leasing rental units for what I expected might be several weeks. However, weeks turned to months, and months turned to a year. At the end of that year, I gasped in disbelief when checking one of the units. Mold, dust, and spider webs covered the furniture that roaches now called home.
Have you ever asked God for something you didn’t know at the time the magnitude or consequences of His answers would be?
God, the Father, is sometimes called “the Ancient of Days”—a title of respect, honor, and wisdom. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer not to be referred to by age!
We were hiking through a mountain forest in Colorado and we came to a flowing stream. At first, we did not see a way across without getting our shoes completely wet. We thought we would have to turn back. I quickly prayed… asking Jesus for help. We looked at the rocks again, and now could see a path of rocks that stood above the water. The rock path seemed to suddenly appear and we used those rocks to cross to the other side.
I used to think that God didn’t want me to ask Him to help me with the small things in life because I thought prayer was reserved for only the big things.
She sat in my lap admiring the stars and the moon—my three-year-old granddaughter. She claimed the moon as her moon then burst out singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star*. Little Caroline was awash with wonder, and her soul burst into song.
I wish I could have been at the showdown between Elijah and the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel. The false prophets danced around the altar all day, desperately cutting themselves and begging their false god to pay attention to them.
Why be a psalmist? Are you struggling with dark thoughts and troublesome feelings? I strove this way for over forty years. I prayed but wasn’t honest with God about my feelings.
Division. It was tearing us apart again.
Are you concerned over division in your country, city, or neighborhood?
Division in the world, although sad, is more understandable.
But what about division in your own home or church?
Maybe even division in your own heart?