In every place it is used?
We’re quick to claim the full meaning of all when it comes to God supplying all of our needs.
But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.—Philippians 4:19
Or when it comes to God helping us do all things through Christ and His strength.
I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.—Philippians 4:13
Or when it comes to God providing all comfort. Continue reading
When you read missionary prayer letters, what do you expect? Sensational stories? A string of unbroken triumphs?
Would you like to know things as they really are?
Here’s the truth: Missionaries do see victories. But the mission field isn’t romantic in the least. Sometimes it’s downright heartbreaking. The daily reality of the mission field is grueling and often disappointing.
I know this because I know missionaries personally (and even familially). But I recently read Amy Carmichael’s Things as They Are, and I was reminded in a fresh way of the real spiritual warfare missionaries face. Continue reading
Since we have “unspoken” prayer requests, can we have unspoken blessings, too? Because I have one! 🙂
This week, the Lord answered a loooong-standing prayer request in my life, and I’m so thankful.
Early into this request, I learned that the need itself drove me to the throne of grace more frequently then I had been going without it. In fact, I sometimes worried that without this need, I would be less prone to cling to my Lord. Continue reading
What evokes Independence Day patriotism better than fireworks?
Every time I have opportunity to experience good old fourth-of-July fireworks, two lines from our beloved national anthem come into brilliant focus:
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro’ the night that our flag was still there.
I usually view fireworks from the protective security of sitting on the trunk of a car parked a few blocks away. Continue reading
My earliest cooking experience resulted in pancakes that were three and a half inches in diameter and as hard as a rock. I don’t want to tell you about that time.
My next cooking experience was bound to be better. At least I convinced my dad that it would be. It turned out to be one of the most memorable evenings our family talks about.
My mom was out (probably grocery shopping for supper), and my dad was working upstairs on the addition he was adding on to our home.
I climbed the wooden stairs and stuck my head through the opening. There was my dad, framing in the rooms with the two Bible college students he had hired to help him. Continue reading
Outdated garage sale signs are one of my pet peeves. Not just any sale signs, but the ones that simply say “Garage Sale Today.”
If you put a date on your sale sign, you can leave it up for years, and it won’t bother me a bit. Leave it nailed to the telephone post until the poster is ripped and the corners are yellowed and curling with age—I won’t care.
But leave the date off your sign, lead me down a trail of undated signs to a two-week past garage sale, and I’m not a happy camper. So much so that while I love garage sales, I’m unlikely to follow undated signs. It doesn’t matter how fresh they look. Unless I see someone posting the sign, I’m assuming it’s old. Continue reading
When I was growing up, we actually had “the Joneses” living next door. Only, it was just Mrs. Jones—a sweet, elderly widow who had cookies and Kool-Aid for the neighbor kids.
I didn’t know anything about the cookies and Kool-Aid, however, until the day that my sister Michele and I were riding our bikes near her house and ran over her yard decoration. It was a wooden cutout of a redbird on the top of a wooden stake painted red. One of us (I won’t say who because it might make Michele feel bad) ran over the cardinal, and the stake broke.
We quickly hopped off our bikes and examined the broken decoration, hoping there was some easy fix. Nope, the wood was unmistakably broken, and the splintered top half was too short to stick back in the ground. We propped it up against the bush and sadly rode home to tell Mom. Continue reading
Perhaps you’ve never wanted to fly. I have.
Actually, what I most wanted was to parachute. I think I must have been about six or seven when I learned about parachutes and how they work. Ready to experience the thrill for myself, I found two ready-made chutes (a.k.a. plastic grocery bags) in the kitchen drawer and persuaded my sister to go parachuting with me off the top of our backyard swing set.
Quite honestly, it was a disappointing adventure. No broken bones, but no working chutes either. Continue reading
“Firsts” have a way of embedding themselves into your memory. First impressions, first experiences, first meetings. And the more startling the “first” is, the more effectively it wedges itself into your mind.
I was nine years old when I saw my first potbellied pig. It was at a petting zoo in Pennsylvania where our family was visiting some friends. Frankly, I thought the pig with his belly that barely cleared the ground was cute.
But in the same moment that I saw the pig, my dad’s friend spoke up with another first—an expression that I had never heard before: “Only a mother could love that face.” Continue reading
Seven years ago, I stood under a star-studded sky in central Texas and made a decision. With a tinge of dramatic anticipation, I looked to Heaven and prayed my own paraphrase of Jeremiah 26:14: “Lord, do with me as seems good in Your sight.” And then I offered a particularly painful area to Him.
But the outcome of that decision wasn’t quite what I had hoped.
Turning Points
I learned early on that spiritual decisions make spiritual turning points. And turning points are usually exciting. There is a surge of joy in Holy Spirit-prompted surrender, and there can be a rush of anticipation in the biblically-rooted change sure to follow.
So seven years ago, when I knew that I needed this surge of joy and longed for a fresh sense of grace, I made a decision to surrender.
What happened next was…disappointing. Continue reading