The Dry Places

Peone close up AWESOMESometimes we wake up one day and feel different. Nothing has changed, except our mood. We feel dry or worse yet – dried up. We are thirsty for something more. Something greater. We are uninspired, emotionless – emotionally and spiritually dehydrated and thirsty.

I just spent the last two weeks up in Montana, visiting my parents. They live right on the banks of the Kootenai River. While it can be unsafe to get in the river where they are located, you can sit at the water’s edge and enjoy it any time, for as long as you like. The peaceful sounds as the water laps against the rocks at the sides is rejuvenating.

I spent a few different times down there at the water’s edge, sitting on a rock and watching the sunset or thinking about different things, or waiting for my dad’s boat to come around the corner. As I sat there, I wondered why I was feeling so dry lately. I was craving – thirsting – to be filled up, drenched with the spirit of God and pick up where, for some reason, I had left off. And then I realized that sometimes the dry times are where we find more of God. The times where we feel withered and out of juice. The times where there is absolutely nothing we can do to get filled up, except to rest in Him and trust Him to bring us through that very empty and lonely place and into a place of spiritual abundance.

For writers, it is often suggested that when you feel you are in the throws of writer’s block, the best thing to do is just to keep writing, regardless of how you feel. Get something on paper. Eventually, you’ll be back in the saddle and going once again. Walking in spiritual deserts is somewhat similar. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, knowing that it won’t be an oasis you’ll find in one of your tomorrows, but eventually you find the river of life. How much more refreshing is a river or body of water after you have just come out from the desert! How much more it is appreciated! A river where you can be drenched with cool, dripping water that saturates the dry places and leaves you refreshed.

If you find yourself in a ‘dry’ place today, for whatever reason – keep walking on the path He is leading you. Your river may be just around the corner, where God is waiting to refresh your spirit and fill you anew.

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The Ducks on the Golf Course

yellow columbineI am sitting outside on the patio at my in-laws, watching five female mallards frantically eat something in the lawn of the golf course that butts up to their back yard.  I have watched them, on and off now, for about thirty minutes.

A couple of them are laying down eating.  Yet, their speed is the same as the other three – fast and furious.  It’s as if they are going to starve if they don’t eat their share.  It’s as if they are going to be caught in darkness if they don’t eat quickly as the sun sets.  It’s as if they don’t want to let anyone else enjoy the feast they have found.  It’s as if they know something I don’t.

That final thought is what occurred to me as I saw them, without warning of danger, without any movement to frighten then, scamper quickly off to the side of the third hole and head for the bushes. Within ten seconds, the sprinklers came on.  I laughed.  They did know something I didn’t.

It reminds me of two things…

God takes care of us: Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? Matthew 6:26

We are of more valuable than the birds that fly through the air or scavenge the earth for something to eat. Sometimes it can feel as though we are walking this path alone – foraging for a job, hoping to be healed of a disease, seeking restoration of a relationship.  If God cares so much about a duck in the grass that He has provided for his (or her) every need, won’t he do at least that, if not more, for you?

To be alert: No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! Mark 13:31-333a

Perhaps those ducks were frantic because they were on guard.  They somehow knew that soon the water would pop from the ground and burst forth and didn’t want to be caught without their umbrellas.  They knew they must hurry.  They knew their time was at hand.

A farfetched idea, but you get the point.  I wonder if I am so alert and on guard.  After all, ducks don’t know how to tell time so that they know when to exit the greens.  But, I do believe they just might detect the rushing water coming closer and know it’s a sign to make haste.  Just maybe.

Maybe enough to paint a picture for me to be reminded that I want to live so that I am not anxious about tomorrow because I know by Father in heaven cares more about me than the ducks he takes care of.  And maybe enough to paint a picture for me to be reminded to be on guard and alert to His Son coming to take me home.

Yes, I will rest in knowing that while we wait for our glorious exit, He will continue to care for us and meet our every need.

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What To Do About Church Squirrels

comp-dsc03425I’ve been going through a bunch of stuff and ran across this little bit of humor.  I’d give credit where credit is due, but it wasn’t credited on the original…  but for sure, I didn’t write it – just sharing…

What to do about church squirrels………….

There were five houses of worship in a small town in northern Idaho – the Presbyterian Church, the  Baptist  Church , the  Methodist  Church, the Catholic Church and the Jewish Synagogue.  Each was seriously overrun with pesky squirrels.

One day, the Presbyterian Church called a meeting to decide what to do about the squirrels.After much prayer and consideration they determined that the squirrels were predestined to be there and they shouldn’t interfere with God’s divine will…

In the Baptist Church, the squirrels had taken up habitation in the baptistry.  The deacons met and decided to put a cover on the baptistry and drown the squirrels in it..  The squirrels escaped somehow and there were twice as many there the next week.

The  Methodist  Church got together and decided that they were not in a position to harm any of God’s creation. So, they humanely trapped the squirrels and set them free a few miles outside of town. Three days later, the squirrels were back.

But the Catholic Church came up with the best and most effective solution.They baptized the squirrels and registered them as members of the church.  Now they only see them on Christmas and Easter!

Now, not much was heard from the Jewish Synagogue.  But they took one squirrel and held a short service with him called a circumcision and they haven’t seen any squirrels on the property since.

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Running The Race Like A Cowboy

cowboysSunday evening wasn’t the same without having The Amazing Race to watch.  I haven’t ever enjoyed watching that show as I did with this last season’s brood.  And it’s all because of the cowboys.  Oh my gravy – they made the entire show a joy to watch.  Their attitude, their reactions and responses (or the lack thereof) – they made the show.  Their integrity was so attractive and never once wavered.  It was a breath of fresh air to see two people with such a consistent positive attitude.

In the New Testament Jesus says, ‘the first shall be last and the last shall be first.’  While watching the last episode of the race, there is a point where the cowboys are waiting for their last flight. One team of the three finalists is ahead of them, while the third comes in later.  The cowboys’ luggage is right behind the teams’ luggage who is in first place, though the cowboys are standing a few feet from it.  The third place team comes into the terminal and one of its team members steps in front of the cowboys’ bags, stating something to the effect that the cowboys weren’t really in line, so they (the third place team) had every right to be there.  Not.

In the whole scheme of things, it most likely didn’t matter when you look at the big picture.  But, it did matter.  It was rude, it was
wrong, and if they had been in high school in the lunch line and the logistics were similar within the character types, that choice most likely would have been grounds for a fight.  The cowboys, however, remained cool and were probably muttering, ‘Oh my gravy.’

cowboys 2I sometimes wonder when watching that show, how I would react to certain situations.  Would my flesh and competitive spirit (and it can be strong) get in the way and any testimony I have to God’s mercy and grace be lost in one second because I have to win?   On ordinary days in life, do I outdo others so that I come across as ‘the best’?  Do I do things or say things a certain way for attention?  All of these being a part of the ‘me first’ mentality?  I know I have.  But I don’t want to.  I’m like Paul, the apostle, who said, “For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.”

I want to be that person (or America’s favorite cowboys) who keeps their cool and knows that when my race is finished, I ran with integrity and grace, whether I came in first or last.  I want to be that person that says, “Go on ahead.  I don’t mind if I don’t win the million dollars.  What matters most is you.” (Yeah, right.)  Seriously, I hope that my integrity stays intact under pressure.  That my choices would align with my desire to be Christ-like.  I would hope that my focus would not be what I can gain here on earth, but the prize that awaits at heaven’s throne.

Oh my gravy – won’t that be the ultimate end to an amazing race?

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To read up on how Jet and Cord are using their second place prizes, click here!

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What I’ve Learned from A Two-Year Old

april 2010 01-01-07 12-01-50 AM 455x684They say you’re never too old to learn something.  Well, in my case it’s true – I may not remember it tomorrow, but I’m willing to learn something new.  Here are a few things I’ve learned from my favorite two-year old…

~ jumping in puddles is fun at any age

~ walking in the rain is fun at any age

~ letting the car windows down so the wind can blow air in your face is fun at any age

~ singing Veggie Tales songs can make you laugh

~ dried cranberries really do taste good

~ screaming is therapeutic and attracts attention

~ you can’t run as fast as you used to (or as graceful)

~ falling down is another opportunity for getting back up

~ imagination is priceless

~ memorizing things is easier at 2 than at 50

~ you can make mistakes when you’re younger and people laugh.  People quit laughing when you’ve ‘growed’ up.

~ cold milk still tastes good

~ innocence is a beautiful thing

~ reading the same stories over and over again is never tiresome when you’ve got the right company

~ laughter really is medicine for the heart

~ we should all think we can do anything

~ being persistent sometimes pays off

~ traditions start at a very young age

~ coloring out of the lines is freeing

~ a hug can make all the difference

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Random Post: A Conversation Overheard

Her: “I said to her, “You know how it talks about Peter and Paul arguing about who’s going to be sitting at the right hand of Jesus?’ ”

Him: (no response)

Her: ” You know what I’m talking about?”

Him: (nods)

Her: “I told her I think she’s going to be sitting in that seat.”

Him: “Paul wasn’t a disciple.”

Her: “What?”

Him: “Paul wasn’t a disciple.”

Her: “He was an apostle. Okay, it wasn’t Peter and Paul. You know what I’m talking about.”

Him: “Paul wasn’t even there.”

Her: “He was called beloved.”

Him: “That was John.”

Her: “I know, but I’m talking about who’s sitting at Jesus’ right hand. I think it’ll be cool when we find out who’s sitting there.”

Him: “I don’t think you’ll care.”

Her: “Yes you will. It’ll be cool to see who and why.”

Him: “No one’s gonna care.”

Her: “I’ll care. It’ll be cool to see why.”


Sometimes life is just like that… random and confusing.

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Easter Series, Part 10: Two Men Out for A Walk

j0316900Sunday morning. The third day. Mary has already run to the disciples to tell them the good news – Jesus is alive! There’s a buzz in the air and anticipation is quietly growing.

A disciple named Cleopas is walking toward Emmaus with a friend at his side.  The two are talking.

“So, if he’s not in the tomb, where then?”

They continue talking to one another. Cleopas’ friend replies as he continues to walk, kicking a stone along the road. “Well, I say someone’s taken his body somewhere else or he did what he said he’d do and came back to life.” Cleopas’ friend kicked the stone ahead of him. “Did you see him bring his friend Lazarus back to life?”

“Yeah, I did. It was…  incredible. I know He’s got the power to raise someone but how’s He gonna do it if He’s dead?  That’s what I don’t get.”

“Man – that’s what’s been going on in my head. I mean—”

From out of nowhere, Cleopas’ friend is interrupted by a stranger who joins them on the road as they walk.

“Good morning,” he greets them.

“Hey,” Cleopas nods, looking up momentarily to make eye contact and then continues watching the dirt road in front of him as he walks.

The stranger continues to walk beside the two men. “So what are you guys talking about?”

“You must not be from around here. You haven’t heard what’s happened?”

“What’s happened?” the stranger inquires.

“There was a man creating a lot of stir among the people here – Jesus of Nazareth. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death and they crucified him on Friday. We were hoping that he was the one who was going to save Israel.  The king we’ve all been waiting for.”

“Wow. Sounds like I really missed something.”

“That’s not the half of it. He told his apostles that he would rise again on the third day and today’s the third day. There were a couple women who amazed us with their news of his tomb being empty and – .”

Cleopas’ friend interjects. “Yeah, they said they even saw angels who told them he was alive and some of our friends went to the tomb to check out the women’s story and his body was gone, but no one has seen him anywhere. We don’t know what’s going on.”

“Haven’t you read the scriptures?” the stranger asks.

“What do you mean?” Cleopas replies, head hanging low to the ground and his hands in his pockets, he kicks another stone.

The stranger stops momentarily to face them as he says, “How can you not believe what the prophets said? Don’t you remember the scriptures teaching that the Christ would have to suffer all that’s happened and then enter his glory? Remember the story of Moses? Remember when…” as they being walking again on that road to Emmaus, the stranger begins to explain to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself. They walk another few miles, the two friends, feeling their hearts burning inside and listening intently as the stranger speaks. They don’t realize how late it has become when they finally reach Emmaus. The two men begin veering west to the place they are staying, while the stranger appears to be continuing down the road.

“Hey, it’s late – stay with us for the night,” Cleopas’ friend invites the stranger. The stranger accepts.

Cleopas introduces the new face to the other men who are present and the meal is ready shortly after. They gather around a table, much like Jesus and his apostles had just done three nights prior. And, much like the three nights prior when Jesus and his apostles celebrated the Passover, the stranger takes the bread, gives thanks, breaks it and begins to give it to the men with him at that moment.   And – it is at that moment the two men who had been walking on the road to Emmaus realize who this stranger is and then… he is gone as quickly as the moment he showed up when they were walking.

Cleopas and his friend immediately “got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together and saying, ‘It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.’ Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread.” (Luke 24:33-35)

Thomas, one of the apostles, is also known as ‘doubting Thomas’. He is probably known best for doubting it was actually Christ, (after being resurrected) who now stands in front of him.  He is in need of proof before he will believe. However, it seems Cleopas and his walking partner aren’t too far from having the same problem. After all, it doesn’t appear they’re really expecting him. If you were there when Christ said he would rise on the third day and really believed he was going to be back on Sunday as he said, wouldn’t you be checking out the favorite hangouts that you and all the guys had been to in the last three years to see if he shows up?

That’s a tough call. You’re staring at reality as you know it – no physical evidence of Jesus in the flesh – and yet, inside there’s a stirring telling you there’s more to come.

Are you a Cleopas? A Thomas? Will you believe that Jesus was real? Will you believe the scars from the nails that had been driven into his hands are really there without needing to see them? Will you believe the only reason those scars are there is because Someone really loves you and hung on a cross to prove it?

Well, it’s true.  And that someone is Jesus and yes… He’s Alive!

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Easter Series, Part 9: Waiting for Christmas

Rose close up 2Remember that feeling you got as a little kid, knowing that Christmas was the next day? You could hardly sleep and every little noise made you think Santa was on his way. I wonder if anyone in Jesus’ circle of influence felt that was on Saturday, knowing that He had told them He would rise on the third day – tomorrow.

Do you suppose they were excited? Confused? Terrified? Skeptical? I think they were all that and more. Sure they saw Him perform endless miracles that they had witnessed first hand. But there was one difference – He was alive. How was He supposed to make himself alive again if he was dead? No one had seen a dead person perform a mircle.

There are no accounts of who was doing what on the day before the resurrection. What would they have been doing?

Waiting.   In anticipation of something greater. Something wonderful. A promise fulfilled. A hope unimaginable. A joy beyond measure. I think they were waiting, even in fear. Just like a child at Christmas and I think God was watching the faith, the hope, the joy of His children as they waited for Him to give the most wonderful gift… He was giving His Son back. For good.

I think that God was a bit excited, too – waiting to see the smile of His children when they saw their gift.

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Easter Series, Part 8: A Face In The Crowd

Today’s point of view is that we’re a nameless face in the crowd. No one of significance or importance – til we come face to face with Jesus.

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Dear Diary,

Today I worked up my courage and followed the man they say heals. I can attest to years of suffering with this illness that no one can define. An illness that has kept me at bay from friends and family. But today, I followed this man to see for myself who it was that everyone is talking about.

I saw nothing, but felt everything. The demeanor of the crowd was electrifying and something to the very core of my being gave me chills and in the depths of my soul I knew – I just knew – this was the we have been waiting for.

He was walking to the grassy knoll near the outer gates. Masses of people gathered around to hear him speak and I did no different, though I stood from afar, knowing what would happen if I came to close and not wanting to be cast away.

He spoke of warnings – things to come. He spoke of how we should love one another. It was like a healing balm to my heart just to listen. There was power in His words. There was strength in His voice.

My body grew faint and I retreated down the hill and back home to rest. I tire quickly, but one thing I have promised myself – I am going back tomorrow. Wherever he goes, I am going to follow as long as the God of Israel gives me strength.

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Dear Diary,

I sat on the rocks near the waterside today, watching from afar. Jesus was there, watching the fisherman out in their boats, casting their nets into the sea. They were flustered at not catching anything and then the most amazing thing happened. Jesus yelled something – I could not hear what – but they threw their nets back out and pulled in a boatload! If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have walked over to where he sat. I just know He can heal me. And, I just know He would.

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Dear Diary,

Crowds gathered again near the city gates under the olive trees. Thousands. I sat on a rock, hoping no one would notice and send me away. Jesus seemed so weary, so tired, but there, with his men, he began to feed those who had come. I watched intently and know they had only a basketful of food. Yet, the food kept being passed and handed out. Oh, God of Israel, provide the opportunity I need. I want to serve you with everything inside of me but should it not be your will, then I will continue to serve you just as I am.

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Dear Diary,

I do not know that I can even pen my thoughts this evening. I had just put the last dish in its place and was ready to lay down when I heard the commotion outside my door. Weary, I opened the door to look outside and here he came, passing right in front of me. This was the time, I knew it. But the crowd was so large and to get to him was nearly impossible. But I knew the power that was within Him would cure the sickness within me. Boldly I inched my way closer to him as the crowds pressed in. I feared I would be trampled but I pressed forward until I could just reach the edge of his garment and then I touched him. Immediately, a chill not unlike that of the other day ran through my body and the bleeding that I have had for twelve years stopped. Right then. I did not need confirmation of who this man was, but He gave it anyway.

However, when I touched his garment, somehow he knew and stopped walking, asking the crowd who it was that had touched him. Had I done something wrong? Was his power to heal only reserved for a select few? No. God does not play favorites.

I could not hide. He would know anyhow. His men said it was so crowded it could have been anyone. However, something drew me in – drew me to step closer and answer. Trembling with fear, I approached Him as the crowd stepped back. The moment the last person stepped away, I was face to face with Him. I could not stand and fell at his feet.

“It was me, my Lord. I touched your cloak. For twelve years, I have been sick and no one has been able to help me, but you – my Lord, I knew you could. I knew you had the power to heal me and so I touched your cloak knowing that if the God of Israel willed me to be well, he would do it through you my Lord. And He did.”

The crowd gasped at my response and at that moment, I looked up and his eyes locked onto mine. Eyes that were warm and filled with kindness, putting my sudden fear to rest. Eyes that didn’t condemn but understood. As I looked into those eyes, I knew he was more than just a man. I knew he was the Messiah.

“Daughter,” he responded, “your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

Kissing his feet, I cried. “Thank you, my Lord.”

I stood and did as He said – I went in peace.

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Dear Diary,

Although I have so much to celebrate – new life, new health – my heart now bleeds. They have arrested Jesus and sentenced him to be crucified. I know he could stop this terror. It must be that he must endure this horrific treatment for reasons I cannot understand. I have gone everywhere he has been since he healed me, hanging on his every word, trying to remember everything he has said to the multitude of crowds these last few days.

I don’t understand the people I stood next to on the road, who yelled ‘Hosanna’ at Jesus just days ago who now yell for him to be crucified. I could not watch the bloodthirsty people who condemn him for his kindness and truth. So I went and sat down by the waterside where I had seen him sit so peacefully. And as I sat there, I felt compelled to pray to the God of Israel.

The commotion grew louder in the direction of where the temple stands. I got up and walked toward the knoll which overlooked the road to Golgatha, where they crucify the criminals. As I watched people laugh and spit in his face, my prayer grew stronger. A man in the crowd put down his sack and took Jesus’ cross upon his own back. The streaks of blood from whatever was on his head flowed down his face and as he continued, I could see stripes of blood covering the welts across his back.

Why were people laughing?!? Could they not see what was happening? Did they not understand who it was they mocked? How can we be such an ignorant people as to not see the truth right before us and just let it pass us by? Oh, God of Israel, help us!

I stood on that knoll and wept. After returning home, I could hear others outside. There was a different aura – some drinking, obvious by their gait, others laughing but not joyous, while others were passing by in an eerie silence. I wasn’t able to eat and after the crowds lessened, I opened the door to look out. It was quiet as the sky darkened above, in an uncommon covering. I grabbed my shawl and walked against flow. There was a chill in the air and I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

As I approached Golgotha, I was reminded why I don’t come here. There he hung and the soldiers were lifting an object to His lips when he yelled, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” Onlookers beat themselves and mourned loudly as if they themselves had just been handed a death sentence. A group of women stood from afar – women I had seen in the crowds in days past.

I looked back at Jesus, his arms outstretched, nails holding his hands in place. The very hands that had touched my head as I knelt at his feet were now being held to that cross.

He was dead. I knelt as the sky turned to black and screams could be heard from the temple square. Tears fell from my face. What part did this have to play in anything? How could this serve to make him king?

I don’t know. I don’t understand, but I know that I will not stop believing for something in my heart and soul tells me that something better is coming. Until that day, I will tell everyone just what He did for me.

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Easter Series, Part 7: The Passover Lamb

HD GRASSFor centuries, God’s chosen people have celebrated the Feast of Unleavened Bread, the first day being the more commonly known ‘Passover’ and also known as The Last Supper.

At that first Passover, the children of Israel were commanded by God to kill an unblemished lamb and take the blood from the lamb and put it on the doorposts of their home.  The blood was a sign for God’s spirit to ‘pass over’ the homes with blood-stained doorposts and the first born males in that house would be spared from death.

The exile and freedom from the Israelites out of Egypt is celebrated during this week, but what significance does all of this have for us today?

It is no coincidence that Jesus is crucified on Passover  – the very same time they were sacrificing unblemished lambs at the temple.  God was saying to the world, “ It’s done.  This is the Lamb of God and no more sacrifices are needed.  The blood of my son has become that which will cover the sins of the people from this day forward.”

Jesus Christ became the final sacrifice for our sins.  All we had to do was to believe.  Believe who He said He was and repent from our sins.

Can salvation really be that easy?

It wasn’t so easy for Christ to provide such a gift.  Undoubtedly writhing in pain as he hung there on the cross, He took on the sins of the world as His father turned His face away.  Imagine the isolation, the loneliness, the darkness.  He could have saved himself, but He didn’t.  Instead, He chose to save us.

He created a New Testament type of Passover.  If we believe He is the Son of God and died for our sins, that belief becomes the blood spread on the doorposts of our life and death no longer has a hold on us.  When God looks at us on Judgment Day, it won’t be me He sees, but the blood of His son, which covers me.  No gimmicks, no bucket full of works to save me – just grace found at the foot of the cross.

I don’t know about you, but that fills me with a hope and an excitement of things to come.  So, this week, remember the perfect Lamb.    The One who set you free from death when He allowed himself to become your sacrifice – if you just believe.

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