Enough Troubles For Today

Sitting at the end of one of my neighbor's driveways is a bowl of water, a bowl of catfood and a bamboo placemat usually with a feathery toy laying on it. It's right there near the road. It sits there because in the sewer that drains right there at the curb lives two feral kittens. Apparently my neighbor, while not claiming ownership of the cats, has not turned a blind eye to their need for food and water. It's full every day when I walk by.

Recently my pastor preached on Matt. 6:25-34 about worrying. Though I've read this Scripture countless times, this sermon couldn't have come at a more perfect time. Just recently, my sister was diagnosed with malignant melanoma. She has had surgery and awaits a meeting with a doctor to determine the amount and frequency of her chemotherapy treatments. Then just the other day, my father was diagnosed with the same thing. He is awaiting news from his doctor about surgery and whether or not his body can even handle the surgery since he is already dealing with a low white blood cell count due to his leukemia. If there was ever a time to worry about tomorrow, this is it.

But God assures me in the above Scripture that worrying isn't worth it. By worrying, I can't add a single hour to my life, Jesus says in vs. 27. I know by worrying I've lost more than a few hours, however. Jesus adds later in vs.34 tomorrow will bring worries of its own and to just handle today's troubles.

In the midst of that passage of Scripture, Jesus asks His disciples to consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field and how God cares for them, adding "Are you not of more value than they?" It made me think of that neighbor down the street caring for these two kittens to make sure their needs are met. And it made me smile. I know God is going to care for my sister and father.

A friend recently asked me how I was doing after this latest health blow to my family. I said without hesitation, "I'm not going to worry about it, because Jesus told me it won't help anything." I'm going to spend that time praying instead.

Coming or Going?

I have a rip-a-day calendar titled "Islands" that has breathtaking photographs of islands all over the whole world. Recently, the photo for one day showed the Fakarava Atoll, a Tahitian island where you can do some excellent snorkling. The picture showed half under the turquoise water while the top half showed the palm-tree covered island above the water. Under the water, were some colorful tropical fish. I looked at the picture and thought these tropical fish were the cutest ever with their golden yellow faces, big black eyes and white and black tail ends. After some googling, I learned this tropical fish is called the Threadfin Butterfly fish. Then I realized upon closer examination that these cute little yellow faces were actually their tail ends. I was looking at the fish backwards. The face was the black and white striped end and the tail was golden yellow with a black dot on it. I chuckled when I realized my error and thought how clever of God to create a fish that just by looking at it you couldn't tell if it was coming or going.

I feel like this fish many days. With a scheduled packed with responsibilies that only seems to get added to, I feel sometimes like I don't know whether I'm coming or going. And I've got no clever creative coloring to fool those looking at me. By all appearances sake, I should be going in just one direction, but, like many folks these days, am tackling lots more than I probably should. My fear is I may start forgetting to do things I'm committed to or the quality of some things I'm doing will be diminished because of my overcommitment.

Our Father has given us 24 hours in each day, 16 of which we are normally awake for (unless you're my teenage son, then it's closer to 12). I do not think God intended for us to fill every moment of those 16 hours with multiple tasks, regardless of our ability to handle so many at once. I think He'd prefer we stick to the tasks He's called us to, gifted us to do, so that we do them well and do them with energy and love.

The other day I was between tasks and wondered aloud what I should do next. I heard the calming voice of my Father asking me to slow down, take a seat and enjoy some time with Him: time in prayer and in Scripture. It was truly the most beautiful, most relaxing and most fulfilling part of my day.

If you're feeling overwhelmed, overcommitted and, well, exhausted, perhaps it's time to say "no" to a few things ... and say yes, to a little quiet time with our Father. And after looking at this rip-a-day picture, I wouldn't mind spending some of that time on Fakarava Atoll. :)

Father of Compassion, God of All Comfort

I walk two miles every day, sometimes more. I take different routes through the neighborhoods adjacent to mine for some variety. On one particular street there is a home with seven garden gnomes under a magnolia tree. It's the same home that had lifesize carolers on the front porch at Christmas. I mention this because it's a home I notice everytime I walk by it.

More recently there has been another reason to notice it. This summer, nearly every time I've walked by this home, I have waved to the owners. An elderly couple lives there, I'm guessing in their 80's. And every day, the husband wheels his wife, still in her jammies, out onto the driveway. He brings out their black poodle to run out by the gnomes and sets his resin chair next to her wheelchair. And they sit there, sometimes in the sun, sometimes in the shade, waving to passersby and enjoying each other's company. They are always smiling. I am touched each time as I see him gently bringing his wife out to enjoy some fresh air. And I was especially touched when I saw him bring out a standing fan on a long electrical cord to blow a soft breeze on her during our hotter days. She still enjoyed the outdoors and people, but now with some comfort. It was truly beautiful to see. I asked my husband later, "Will you wheel me outside and put a fan beside me when I'm unable to do it?" He assured me he would, then added, "unless it's you wheeling me outside."

Our daughter, Ayla, visited a weekend recently. She's a workaholic and had exhausted herself to the point where her body was begging her to slow down. I got to coddle and cuddle her in an effort to try to get her rested and strong. I enjoyed caring for and loving on her. She is so precious to me, so her well-being is important to me.

I'm reminded in the caring of an elderly man for his wife and my love for my daughter of our Father's care for us. Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:8, we don't need to use a bunch of words in our prayers because God already know what we need. He knows our needs and wants to care for us. And who could possibly do a better job than the Creator of the universe. He knows what's best for us physically, mentally and emotionally. I love that he even knows the number of hairs on our heads (Matt. 10:30. Every time I brush mine and watch several fall out I'm telling God, "Recount!"). This is a God who truly, lovingly cares about the details, growth and abundant joy of His children. (2 Cor. 1:3-6)

I live for the day when I can sit by my Father in Heaven and delight in His company. I'm thinking I won't need to bring a fan to cool Him or a dog to entertain Him in Paradise, but I know I'll want to see to His comfort and serve Him. In the meantime, I'm going to love on His children here. I think He'd like that.

To Whom Are You Accountable?

I was a whipping post last week. The old saying "People shoot the messenger" is dead on, as I was getting quite the beating for delivering a few messages. In several instances last week, I felt called by our Father to "stand in the gap" between the world and Scripture and provide some Godly counsel to friends. Fully armed with the Bible and fully confident that God was doing the nudging, I went in with my whole heart sharing what He asked me to say.

What I hadn't counted on was that perhaps those friends didn't necessarily want to hear it. The reactions weren't ones of "Wow, that's exactly what I needed to hear!" but rather more along the lines of "Mind your own business." I was surprised and took personally the rejection of the messages.

Not going to God with the "What's up with this?" I instead vented to my husband. He responded with some Godly counsel of his own. He said, "To whom are you accountable?"

That silenced my pity party. I had forgotten who those messages were from. I had spoken exactly as the Father instructed and delivered it with the love and grace He's shown me over and over again. That doesn't guarantee God's message is welcomed with open arms. I had to be reminded of the many times Christ spoke and was pushed out of town to the point of hanging on a cross outside of one. Or Paul spoke and was flogged or stoned. I was grateful for that reminder from my husband.

I can honestly say even after his reminder, I was persuaded to never deliver another such message because of the hurt feelings I was nursing. That's when another friend, who is in my Christian accountability group, spoke up and said, "Isn't that exactly what Satan was hoping you'd do?"

This is not new information to me, but it sure is nice to have Christian brothers and sisters remind us of it when we face the very persecution Christ warned us about. The world hates hearing the truth and will hate us for repeating it, whether God told us to say it or not.

Have you ever seen the T-shirt slogan, "I'm the Christian the devil warned you about?" Yeah, well that's me. I'm armed with the Word and fully prepared to share it. Or how about that other T-shirt that shows a person getting out of bed and Satan is saying, "Oh, crap, she's up!"

It took a couple days and it took a few shed tears, but world ... I'm up.

Greater Love Hath No Man Than This

I am fiercely patriotic. I love America. I have stars snd stripes on the walls of my kitchen hanging near to a copy of the Declaration of Independence. Up until we moved to Alabama, an American flag flew every day at my home in Wisconsin (I just haven't found a place for it yet). I love red, white and blue. I love that our country has "under God" in its pledge. I admire our Constitution. And recently I painted a bird house with the words "God bless America" on it. "America is the home of the free, because of the brave," I once read on a bumper sticker. I couldn't agree more. We are a blessed nation with servicemen and women who put their lives in harm's way for the sake of our country. And I am grateful to them.

My grandfather, John Lauritzen, was one of those men. In 1945, he served in World War II, leaving behind a wife and four children ages 15, 5, 4 and 2. My Dad was the 5 year old. On Feb. 2, 1945, Grandpa wrote this letter/poem to my grandmother, Elizabeth:

My Dearest Mommy:
(never knew your Daddy as a poet, did you?)

I know I cannot write a poem
About a lovely place like home;
A home where my wife and children pray
Their Daddy soon comes back to stay.

I do know I will always feel
A love so deep, so strong and real;
That all this suffering I now see,
Will not in future bother me.

I want my mind and my heart, too,
To be reserved for all of you
To start where our lives stopped before
God, please, end all this darned old war!

How's that?

Love from your Daddy.

Two days before my grandmother received this letter, a telegram from the United States government was delivered to her informing her that my grandfather was killed in action Feb. 16, 1945. My Dad says he remembers Grandma sitting on her bed holding the telegram in her hand and sobbing. He says he knew, before she said anything, that his Daddy was never coming home again.

Grandma couldn't afford to have Grandpa's body shipped back home. Instead she was sent his belongings and what they found on his body ... which included two pictures: one of my grandmother and the other of his three preschool children. John Lauritzen was buried alongside 7,992 other American fallen in Germany at the Henri-Chapelle American Cemetary in Belgium. Just recently, my Dad made a trip there to see his father's gravestone cross. It's just one in a sea of white crosses arched across the grassy field. Dad said it gave him finally the chance to say good-bye to his father ... more than six decades later.

My grandfather fought, bled and died for America. Jesus, when refering to a sacrifice He was about to pay for all our sakes, said in John 15:13: "Greater love has no man that this, that he lay down his life for his friends." I am so proud of the grandfather I've never met. And I look forward to the day when I can thank him in person for his sacrifice. When I asked my grandmother about him once, she said, "He was the love of my life."

This Memorial Weekend, I am remembering with honor Americans who died serving this country ... like John H. Lauritzen, one of the brave.

Hardiness Growing Zones

It's raining as I type this. God is watering is beautiful creation and, thankfully, my garden, flower beds and lawn. That's something I have had to do myself a lot lately since it hasn't rained much prior to this for about a month. Typically I water about every two or three days, and if I miss one watering, my Black-Eyed Susans are the first to complain, shriveling and drooping.

But one thing I have never watered, not once, in my yard, are my crepe (crape) myrtle trees. It's because they grow like weeds here in Alabama. They are everywhere and nearly every one of my neighbors has one color of crepe myrtles in their yard - white, fushia, red, light purple or pink. They are just gorgeous and start blooming right about now. The interesting thing about crepe myrtles is you can prune them to the trunk and they will spout new branches, flowers and all, each summer to just the height you want. Some have gigantic crepe myrtles in their yards, and others have several all pruned to a shorter height to keep their blossoms at eye level. Little more than a month ago, you'd find these pruned crepe myrtles everywhere and they looked so strange, with stumpy trunks all over town like someone had tried to kill them by removing all their branches. But then they sprout leafy branches and not long after those gorgeous blossoms hanging like grape clusters all over.

The crepe myrtle was made for this climate ... as are the azaleas, dogwoods, magnolias, gardenias, mimosas and roses. They thrive here, and beautifully. All these gorgeous blooms to bring a smile to my face, yet one of my most favorite flowering bushes can't grow here. It's the lilac. It's just too warm for it here. I miss seeing the hundreds of lilac bushes all over our former state residence of Wisconin. And I miss their amazing fragrance.

The crepe myrtle was designed for this growing zone, just like the lilac is for climates further north. Neither survive in the other's climate.

This got me thinking about Christ's church and how Paul compares its members to various parts of the body, each designed to do something different. He talks about it in 1 Corinthians 12. "God arranged the members in the body, each of them, as He chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be?" Paul asks in verses 18 and 19. An eye can't do an ear's job and an arm can't do the job of the brain and so on. He's expanding on his discussion of spiritual gifts and how God has created each person with specific gifts to do certain jobs for building up His Kingdom. Some have the gift of hospitality, service, leading, teaching, preaching, etc. Not everyone can do every gift.

Christian women's Bible study creator Beth Moore has laughing recalled how when she was first called by God to a ministry, she thought she was to be a singer. She is an outstanding Bible Study writer, and I have been blessed by her more than a dozen thorough studies. I know I am further along in my spiritual life because of her Bible studies, there's no doubt. How much I would have missed if she would have become a singer! Her success would have probably been the same as my tropical palm tree that didn't survive our 17-degree temperatures this winter.

Then I think of the late Rich Mullins whose gift it certainly was to write and sing Christian music. You are probably aware of his classic song "Awesome God." It was his song "Calling Out Your Name" that brought me deep into the fold of Christian music ... eventually leading me years later to a new ministry as a midday host of a Christian music station.

Praise God for our different spiritual gifts! Praise God for how we use those gifts to bring God's children into a deeper relationship with Him!

What are your talents? How can you use those gifts to glorify our Father and encourage His precious children? If we develop those areas, those ministries will grow and flourish ... like crepe myrtles in Alabama or lilacs in Wisconsin, just as God arranged.

A Chance to Die

I remember crying the first time I heard this quote. It was in the 2006 movie "The Last Holiday" starring Queen Latifah. She played a woman who learns she's got just weeks to live. She says while looking in the mirror at herself: "Next time, we will laugh more, we'll love more, we just won't be so afraid."

For the last year or so, I've been afraid. Paralyzed with fear, actually. I went through a period in my life of doing something the Lord asked me to and got spiritually pummeled for it. I was beaten down so badly, that I withdrew from a lot I'd invested in, because it was safer not to try. You don't get hurt when you don't step out, was my rational.

Today I read two devotions that brought me to tears again. One was from the Upper Room for April 29, 2010 by Ebenezer R. Vedamuthu. It spoke about obeying God to "move into deeper waters" like Peter did in Luke 5:4. It asked: "How will we respond when God calls us to go deeper? Will we stay where we feel comfortable and safe, in shallow waters ... or are we ready to put our hand trustingly in God's and venture into greater spiritual depths? The reward will be worth it - a richer, more intimate walk with God and a more abundant life."

The second came from Our Daily Bread. In the April 28 devotion by Anne Cetas she tells the story of Amy Carmichael, a missionary in India for 55 years. When asked about her life, Amy responded: "Missionary life is simply a chance to die." It was then I started weeping.

I have commented often that I cannot wait to get to Paradise to be with the Father. Truly, I can completely relate when Paul says in Phil. 1:21, "For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." The problem was, I was forgetting to live.

While walking today, God is His perfectness, had a song come up on my ipod I've heard countless times. It's called "The Untitled Hymn" or "Come to Jesus." The song tells of a true spiritual journey ... sin, burdens, fear, loneliness, pain, storms, love, joy and eternal life with Christ. What I don't think I noticed before was that every single stanza ends with the same word ... live. "Fall on Jesus and live!" "Come to Jesus and live." "Cry to Jesus and live." "Dance for Jesus and live. "Sing to Jesus and live." "Fly to Jesus and live." In many ways, I'd forgotten about the living part.

A missionary's life is simply a chance to die. Every one of us is a missionary, whether in some other country in the world speaking to the children of God, or in our homes, workplaces, churches and communities. Everywhere we are is our mission field. If we are paralyzed with fear to step out into paths the Father leads us, we are missing out on prime missionary opportunities. And, yes, we're gonna fall and fail. But isn't that what living for Christ is about! It's a chance to die! Die to self for Jesus for His Kingdom, for His children. The Our Daily Bread devotion brought up Matt. 16:25 "Whoever desires to save his life with lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."

It's time to start living again.

[image: Untitled Hymn/Come to Jesus by Chris Rice]