Author: Karen Foster

I'd like to say I've changed, but after decades of living, I still have the same four passions. My relationship with Jesus, spending time with family, attending live theater, and writing devotions & first-person stories about a loving, faithful God who reveals Himself in our every day circumstances.

Speaka da English?

 A monster-size banana split sits on the middle of the table between my husband and me. With metal spoons, we divide and conquer heaps of ice cream covered in hot fudge, lathered in whipped cream. Words aren’t necessary to communicate our pleasure.

At another table in the ice cream parlor, two men laugh as their nimble hands create words in the air; their visual conversation public to anyone in the room who knows sign language.

Reminds me of a Starbucks café in southern California where a community of the hearing impaired congregate on Friday nights. Varied in age and ethnicity, they drive from miles away for the opportunity to talk with each other, and know they’re not alone.

I understand the craving to communicate. On a recent trip to Italy, it was easy to imagine being at the ancient Tower of Babel.

“Therefore its name is called Babel, because there the Lord confused the language of all the earth; and from there the Lord scattered them abroad….” (See Genesis 11:1-9)

Not only did I not understand Italian, a throng of international tourists around me spoke in their native tongues. I felt as helpless as a kindergarten kid looking for pictures to decipher business signs and menus. Even my infantile attempt to speak a few Italian words did little to bridge the communication gap.

So imagine how my ears perked up whenever I overheard someone speaking English. Even the broken English from a stranger’s lips seemed like a welcome mat in a foreign land.

I experience these same emotions when I meet other born again Christians particularly abroad. There’s an instant bond that defies explanation. As brothers and sisters in Christ, we speak the same language. Issues like culture, wealth, education, and occupation (that might otherwise divide us) shrink in light of who we are in Christ.

I’m grateful for the fellowship of the saints, the body of Christ throughout this world that reminds me ….

I’m a sojourner on Earth. My citizenship is in heaven. And I am not alone.

 “For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:26-28).

Is Your Well Dry?

Turn on the kitchen faucet. Not a drop of water.

Discover our well pump gave up the ghost, no longer works. Which means we don’t shower, wash dishes or clothes, water the plants or lawn, or flush toilets.

Have to wait three days to resolve the problem. So we stock up on bottled water to drink and brush our teeth. Pretend we’re camping.

Besides our human needs, my outdoor plants droop beneath a glaring sun. Blades of green grass are fringed with brown in the 98-degree heat.  Squirrels search empty bird baths for a cool drink.

 Psalm 42:1 comes to mind: “As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.”

Is that so?

1) Does my soul pant for God? Or is it passive?

2) Do I recognize my spiritual dry spells? Realize its impact?

 Jesus told the Samaritan woman who came to draw water from a well, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water?  

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:10-14)

Like that woman, I’ve been to the well. I drank the Living Water. Was saved, sanctified, and satisfied.

I’m so dependent on the “spring of water” that I can’t imagine my life without Christ any more than I can manage my house without running water.

Even so, how often do I needlessly drag my body through the dry desert, relying on my man-made camel back instead of Christ to satisfy my inner thirst?

Whine and wonder why I’m scraping in the sand for something to quench my thirst, like the raccoon that bit off the head of my underground sprinkler in search of water, instead of going to the well.  

Those were the thoughts dripping in my mind as I waited for the installation of our new pump, followed by my joyful outburst when the cold water flowed like heaven-sent rain from our faucets.

Reminding me, even in this, how grateful I am for Jesus, the Living Water.       

What is Truly Good

An amber skyline precedes the rising sun. I have been awake for hours, the result of jet lag, to watch another day come to light. And I remember …

The sun rising over the Tyrrhenian Sea as we arrived to the port of Civitavecchia, Italy. My husband and I had come to the end of a ten-day Mediterranean Cruise, and the beginning of a three-day visit to Rome where…

We witnessed the brilliant colors of Michelangelo’s ceiling frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, sat mesmerized in Raphael’s Rooms, and browsed the ancient, white marble sculptures that filled the Palace Vatican’s museums which led to …

St. Peter’s Basilica where golden incense lamps, cardinal robes, mosaic tiled floors, sapphire curtains, polished brass, and more magnificent ceilings and sculptures made my jaw drop and eyes bulge at the opulence and man-made beauty.

Architecture and artwork unsurpassed by anything I’d ever seen…

Until this morning, when God painted the heavenly canvas outside my window with a stroke of His Sovereign hand,

And reminded me what is truly good.

“This is the day which the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24).

How Do I Give Up Control?

My teenage son is going on a weekend trip. He waits till the last minute to pack his duffel bag. I follow him out the front door with my mental checklist.

“Did you pack extra socks? You want to keep your feet warm.”

“One pair should be enough.”

“Did you pack sunscreen?”

“Someone else should have some.”

“Do you have a flashlight?”

No answer.

I’d say my voice is going in his one ear and out the other, but there’s an ear bud inserted into his right ear.

Dad’s voice, “Leave him alone. He’ll be fine.”

“What if he forgets something he needs?”

“Then he’ll remember it next time.”

They drive away, leaving an exasperated mother. “I wonder if he packed a tooth brush.”

My daughter says I’d make a great administrative assistant. Even when I leave home, I type out detailed instructions.

“Water the plants on these days. Don’t forget to take out garbage. In case of emergency, call….blah, blah, blah.”

Okay, so I micro manage.  I’m being real here. But how do I give up control?

Do I allow my child to learn from his mistakes and suffer the consequences when I can prevent many what ifs from happening?

Or can I?

Through no fault of her own, my friend was in a serious car accident. Her daily routine and future plans came to an abrupt halt. While she recuperates, I cringe. What if that happened to me?

Ruled by the tyranny of the urgent, I don’t have time to pause in mid-sentence and wait for life to resume.

Or do I?

Sixteen years ago, I gave birth to my son a week before Christmas. He was three weeks ahead of schedule. Unable to breathe on his own, he was hooked to a ventilator in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

I had no control.

Instead of running nonstop to prepare for the holidays, I spent two weeks being still in a dim hospital room with my newborn infant. Baking cookies, mailing Christmas cards, and a dozen other holiday traditions didn’t happen that year. However,

When I loosened my grip on everything I thought was important

Surrendered my expectations

Kept my mind fixed on the Sovereign God

Trusted Him regardless of the outcome

“He kept me in perfect peace.” Isaiah 26:3

He still does ….

When I give up my need for control, and sit still in His presence.

How to Let Go of the Fear?

It’s been over a week since I called 911 to report my children missing. Previous What If? blog shows the ending.

My kids quickly put the river rafting trip behind them. Not I. Here’s the rest of the story….

How can I explain, without sounding neurotic, how my stomach tightened into a knot after I dropped them off at the river that day? Or the second-guessing panic that drove me to the regional park, hoping to watch my children float by in their raft.

While I waited in the empty parking lot, a young couple sat in the shade, watching their son ride his bike. Safety helmet on his head, training wheels removed from his bike for the first time. It was a milestone in his life.

I applauded his success and told the parents. “Wait till your son is driving a car!”

Glanced at my watch, remembering the last words to my teenage son.

“Keep your life vest on!”

A mom’s measly attempt to control a favorable outcome.

BUT I’M NOT IN CONTROL. My teenage son is past the age I can sit in the shade, watching his every move.

And I don’t know how to let go…of the fear.

Waiting dredged up morbid thoughts. I returned to my campsite and lounged by the lake. Whenever a fearful thought popped into my head…BAM! I hammered it down like those alligator heads in an arcade game.

And then I prayed. Captured the fearful what ifs creeping up my neck, each nagging thought, my lack of control, and “cast all my anxiety on Him because He cares for me.” (1Peter 5:7)

You know it all, Father. You’re the sovereign God.  You love my children, and you know “the days that were ordained for them, when as yet there was not one of them.” (Psalm 139:16)

“You will not fail them nor forsake them.” (Deuteronomy 31:6) No matter what happens. I choose to trust you even in this.

Hawks circled overhead, weeds rustled in the warm breeze. The knot in my gut loosened as my “mind dwelled on whatever is excellent and praiseworthy.” (Philippians 4:8)

For three hours, I “sat in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91:1)

Not knowing I’d dial 911 before the sun set.

But by then, my prayers, and God’s promises, had prepared my heart.

Like the boy who rode his bike without training wheels, I was confident and better able to let go of the fear.

And carry on……..

Because I knew I was not alone.

And neither were they.