Category: Cling to the Vine

A Pocketful of Promises

On Monday morning, I looked at my calendar and drew a diagonal line through each day of the previous week.

Activities that once occupied the twenty-four hour spaces of my life were history.

  • Appointments
  • Meetings
  • School projects
  • Athletic events
  • Lunch dates
  • Errands
  • Work.

What my calendar didn’t reflect was the myriad of emotions I experienced during that time.

  • Regret
  • Frustration 
  • Anger 
  • Depression
  • Fear
  • Joy
  • Satisfaction

No, I’m not going through “the change.” LIFE HAPPENS!

Some days might feel like a treadmill, going nowhere, but my emotions don’t flat line.  

While my heart is beating, I will experience the rugged terrain that comes with this territory called life. All I can do is walk it out as best I can.

One day at a time.

Accepting whatever comes my way.

Learning to bend with the wind so I don’t break.

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And on the days I struggle to “Walk by faith and not by sight”

When I CAN’T ….

  • Make sense of life
  • Control other people’s actions/responses
  • Control my own moods/flaws
  • Make a difference in the world

I CAN trust God’s promises because….

  • GOD CAN:   “But He said, “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God.” (Luke 18:27)
  • GOD is ABLE:  “to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us.” (Ephesians 3:20)
  • GOD DOES:  “work for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
  • GOD SHALL:  “supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

Clinging to God’s promises enables me to look at the coming week and rest, assured He holds the future.

Confident I can trust Him even in the best and worst of times.

And the Winner Is?

I lay in bed, my mind in a fetal position.

Drugged by the words I’d read in an article: “Sex After Christianity” by Rod Dreher

Christians have lost the cultural war. What will Christianity look like in 40 years?   

Wars, terrorist’s bombings, sex trafficking, Dr. Gossner’s gruesome third-trimester abortions, the gun slaughter of children in their classrooms …and now I had to think about the demise of the Christian church?

How could I sleep knowing the enemy prowls this earth like a lion seeking to kill and destroy? And to the victor go the spoils: men’s unsaved souls.

When I awoke, my heart was an anchor dragging me through the day. My facial expression looked as though someone had died.

Then I remembered SOMEONE HAD DIED.

“For Christ also died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, in order that He might bring us to God, having been put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit.” (1 Peter 3:18)

Buoyed by truth, I listened to praise music. Instead of world news, I focused on the GOOD NEWS…the gospel of Christ, the only hope for humanity.

Battles are waged, but the war for righteousness was won centuries ago…by the Prince of Peace who came to earth to reconcile man to God.

But at the time, Jesus  didn’t look like the victor. Instead of wearing an olive wreath, he wore a crown of thorns.

Did Satan dance a jig, give his demons “a high five” when he watched Jesus shedding blood on the cross?

Did the smug, self-righteous religious leaders think they’d won by silencing the man who claimed to be the Son of God? A victory short-lived once they heard people claim Christ had risen from the grave.

Did Christ’s apostles taste victory as they died a martyr’s death?

Did the culture appear to win while Christians were thrown to the lions, impaled on stakes?

Even now the blood and the Voice of the Martyrs across this globe cry out, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, wilt Thou refrain from judging and avenging our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” (Rev 6:10)

Rest assured, Jesus says, “I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me, to render to every man according to what he has done.”(Revelation 22:12)

And knowing this, I laughed in the face of the enemy. You fooled me. For a second, I thought all was lost. But that’s not true….

“For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith. And who is the one who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?” (1 John 5:4, 5)

Pluck Them Eyes

IMG_2497Two women wanted to meet me, see my home.

Marriage does that…opens doors to kinfolk who are strangers, welcomes them as family. How could I know God would use their visit to pluck my eyes.

Avid gardeners, these women wanted to see my yard.

Spring colors littered the landscape. Lavender plants, yellow Columbine, blue Chinese Forget-Me-Not, red Camellias, and pink Azaleas soaked up the afternoon sun. Iris and Day Lilies just shy of blooming swayed in the gentle breeze.

My guests cooed over each plant as though they were my children. But sadly, …

All I noticed were the weeds.

weed

April showers and procrastination had kept me from my garden. Dead limbs needed amputation. Wild stalks of grass as tall as my kneecaps vied for attention. Dandelions growing between the flagstone steps were so plentiful I could have made Dandelion Wine.

I cringed as we walked the garden path. Confessed flimsy excuses. My guests seemed blind to the weeds, or were being polite.

When they drove away, I yanked one thorny weed out of the ground and threw it down. A warning to the stubborn weeds, “Your day will come!”

BUT as I washed the dirt from my manicured nails, I got to thinking ….

For a woman who tends to view her circumstances through rose-colored glasses, I have a problem with critical eyes.

Critical eyes magnify the negative.

Like the weeds, a pimple on my face is a giant red flag on an otherwise healthy epidermis. I see the lack of muscle tone in my legs instead of their ability to walk. I focus on the crumbs on my kitchen counter instead of the food in my pantry.

When I’m doing housework,  I can’t see the clean for the dirt. And I’ll spot a 76% on my son’s schoolwork quicker than I notice three 100’s.

I’m being honest here.

Critical eyes pinpoint Faults in people instead of their Gifts.

Critical eyes breed self-righteousness.

Or paranoia, because surely other people look at me with equally critical eyes.

Critical eyes access everything

And finds no one, and nothing, is good enough.

Not even me.

So this week, I’m pulling weeds from my garden. And by God’s grace, and for the health of my soul, I’m plucking my critical eyes.

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light” (Matthew 6:22).

Must I Go to Church?

DSCN2047Must I go to church today?

As I rolled over in bed, every muscle in my body ached. I’d spent the previous day pulling weeds from my garden.  I don’t feel like going anywhere.

Excuses whined in my head:

I need the rest.

I had to go somewhere every day last week, I deserve a break.

I can listen to praise music and worship God in my home.

I can read my Bible and pray in my recliner.

I won’t be missed.

Notice the word “I” stood center stage.

 

Rolling out of bed, I stumbled to the bathroom sink and splashed lukewarm water on my face.

Am I behaving like a lukewarm Christian?

So what if I’d had a busy week. Should church be less of a priority than the multitude of other activities on my agenda?

 Is church attendance an option?

 Guilt squeezed my chest, dragged me to church where I purposely sat by myself in the last pew.

  The worship band played. I sang, but there was no song in my heart.

 Someone prayed. I bowed my head, but my mind wandered.

“See!” An inner voiced mocked. “You should have stayed home.  Coming to church out of obligation is legalism. You can go through the motions, but God sees your heart!”

I turned to Psalm 19 and followed dutifully along in my Bible as the Pastor read:

Connect

“The heavens are telling of the glory of God. And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.”

As he continued reading verses 7-11, my dutiful heart became deliriously devoted.

“The law of the Lord is perfect…”

“The testimony of the Lord is sure….”

 “The precepts of the Lord are right….”

“The commandment of the Lord is pure…”

“The fear of the Lord is clean…”

“The judgments of the Lord are true….”

Notice GOD’S NAME stands center stage.

Focused on God and His Word rather than my feelings, excuses, or moods….

My soul was restored…and my mind made wise. (Verse 7)

My heart rejoiced…and my eyes enlightened. (Verse 8)

And that is why I must go to church.

For I know I’ll hear God’s Word and meditate on the ONE whose glory is revealed in the heavens. And I’ll worship the only ONE who is able to keep me from sins and forgive my transgressions because ….

The Lord truly is “my rock and my Redeemer.” (Verse 14)

There are no other options.

Want Some Gum?

crossOn April 1st, April Fool’s Day, a fellow jail chaplain passed away. Harry was 92 years old, but he was no fool.

“The fool has said in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”  (Psalm 14:1)

I attended Harry’s memorial service this past weekend. I went, not to weep, but to celebrate a life that belonged to Jesus. To honor a man whose earthly fruit glorified God.

Folks called Harry the “juicy fruit man” because he always …and I mean always…carried sticks of gum. That’s how I met him one night, many moons ago, while I waited to go into jail.

Smiling, he offered me a stick of gum. The yellow wrapper said Juicy Fruit, but it was Harry’s “Gospel Gum.” Whether it was a jail guard or a stranger sitting in the lobby, Harry used gum to break the ice, to part the Red Sea.

“You know, GUM stands for God, U, and Me.” Then he’d share the gospel or pray for the person, whatever the moment called for, while I watched dumbfounded that he made Christian ministry look so easy.

Before we’d enter jail, the guard would examine our Bibles to ensure we weren’t carrying illegal contraband. Harry would grin and say, “I’m armed with the Word of God, which is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword.” (Hebrews 4:12)

Many evenings, the spiritual warfare we faced in jail was darker than the night time sky. I’d arrive fearful as though I were going into the lion’s den. Harry would pray as we walked down the long, concrete corridor. So by the time we parted, each entering a separate tank, my courage was mustered.

At Harry’s memorial service, I learned that years earlier, before he was a chaplain, prisoners escaped from jail and held him and his wife hostage in their home. They stole his car.

His response? Become a jail chaplain.

Listening to testimonies about Harry’s love affair with God and His people inspired me. But Harry’s death encouraged me to….

Cling like sticky GUM to the Easter message of hope I’d celebrated a week earlier.

Cling to Jesus, my sweet Savior, and His promise:

“I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me shall live even if he dies,

and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?”

(John 11:25, 26)