Blog – Page 11

Hiding in a Cave

September 24, 2015

I admit to ambivalent feelings toward Facebook, but once in a while something pops up that really captures my attention, like the story about a sheep named Shrek who so hated being sheared that he hid in a cave to avoid it for six years! He came out looking more like a big ball than a sheep.

Once he made his appearance, his owner immediately took him to be sheared, removing 60 pounds of fleece. And guess what! After the shearing, Shrek seemed to be very happy. What a relief he must have felt to be free of all that weight. I read the story and laughed at Shrek’s cleverness to avoid the dreaded shears.

Then I realized that sometimes I run off and hide in a cave, too, thinking I am so clever, instead of facing up to things I would rather not think about, things God is telling me need to change in my attitude or behavior. I may hide myself in busyness, the Internet, or any number of time-wasters – anything to keep me distracted.

When I finally emerge from the cave and allow my Good Shepherd to remove the excess wool, and I “lay aside every weight, and the sin that so easily ensnares me” (Hebrews 12:1), I feel so much better. I realize I’ve been allowing the enemy to steal, kill, and destroy my peace, joy, and productivity instead of enjoying the abundant life my Shepherd wants me to have (John 10:10). I happily lie down in green pastures beside still waters where He has led me (Psalm 23:2), and once again rest in His love.

Sometimes He does need to remove something from our life for our ultimate benefit. What a wonderful thing when we can trust Him instead of being afraid of the shears.

Book Recommendation: You might enjoy A Shepherd Looks at the Twenty-third Psalm by Phillip Keller, in which a man who spent many years as a sheep owner shares fascinating insights into the nature of those wooly creatures that God compares us to in the Bible.

Family Resemblances

September 15, 2015

I love this photo of my husband, Alan. Look at that twinkle in his eye! When my grandson Lars was about five, he noticed that picture on the wall at the top of our stairs. He stopped, and he looked, and finally he asked, “Hey, grandma! When did you take that picture of me in black and white?” which totally validated what many people said, that Lars looked like his grandpa! Even Lars could see the resemblance.

The study of genetics, the way traits are passed from one generation to the next, is fascinating. A child may resemble one parent more than the other, but always gets a combination of traits from both parents, making him or her a 100% unique individual not looking exactly like either parent, or like anyone else in the world. Even identical twins don’t look exactly alike.

We can trace not only our physical characteristics, but many personality traits as well, to our parents and grandparents. Some traits are more desirable than others. I am not overly thrilled, for example, to be told I have the “Witt nose.” I’m stuck with this inheritance from my DNA!

As Christians, though, we aren’t stuck. We received a DNA change when we were born again. Our very nature is new (2 Corinthians 5:17). OK, the bad news is that even after being born again I still have the Witt nose. But the good news is that on the inside, I am different. I’m a new creation in Christ. The rest of my life will be a journey of renewing my mind according to the Word of God (Romans 12:2), allowing Him to transform me into His image. More and more I will come to resemble my heavenly Father in my thoughts, words, and actions, as I learn to see things – and people – from His viewpoint.

Amy Grant sang a song back in the 80s called “My Father’s Eyes.” Whenever I hear that song, I think about how awesome it would be if, when people look at my life, they could say, “She has her father’s eyes.”

Irons in the Fire

September 9, 2015

A few summers ago my sister and I took our grandkids to Living History Farms in Iowa to see how people lived more than a hundred years ago. At the blacksmith shop, as they watched the “smithy,” one of them got to hold an iron in the fire until it turned red hot. Then the smithy pulled the iron out and hammered the hot metal into shape. When the metal cooled and became too brittle to work with, back into the fire it went.

A blacksmith working on one iron at a time, pulling it out, working on it, plunging it back in, and waiting for it to heat up again, would not accomplish much in a day. So he works on several pieces at a time, hammering on one while the others are heating. However, the metal can’t be left in the forge too long or it will lose its shape. A good blacksmith knows just how many pieces of work he can manage at a time.

That’s where we get the phrase “too many irons in the fire.” What an apt description of our lives when we try to juggle too many projects at once and end up ruining one thing while hurrying to “strike while the iron is hot” with another. We run hither and yon, taking out one task to work on, plunging another into the fire, and not doing any of them as well as we had planned to.

When I find myself in this situation, I have learned I simply must stop and ask God which irons need to be removed from the fire to save for another day – or eliminated altogether. In Mark 4:19 Jesus warns us that the cares of this world can choke the Word of God that has been planted and is trying to grow in our heart. Too many projects and activities, no matter how good they may be, will stunt our spiritual growth.

God tells us to “be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). If we don’t have time to do this, we have too many irons in the fire. I want to be like Jesus, who “has done all things well” (Mark 7:37).

I posted this several years ago, and when I ran across it recently, I realized that it is still a good word, so I am sharing it again. I hope you find it helpful.

Hospital Puzzles

September 1, 2015

When my husband was in the hospital following heart surgery, I noticed almost all the families in the ICU working on jigsaw puzzles. Great idea, I thought, and got one for myself that fit on a board I could hold on my lap. I could pick it up to work on any time, yet put it down at a moment’s notice if I was called away.

Although our puzzles gave us something to do while waiting for whatever came next, I think the real appeal was their symbolic contrast to what we were going through emotionally. Watching over our loved ones, hoping and praying for recovery, we felt fragmented, at loose ends. The situation was beyond our control. The puzzle pieces, however, we could do something about. By concentrating and focusing, we could make sense out of the jumble before us. We experienced satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment every time we were able to fit one into place.

Unlike our real-life situations, each puzzle had a box lid showing what the final result would look like, and we found comfort in that. In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t have a box lid showing me where my real-life situation was heading; I was hoping for a different outcome. But as I learned to trust God through all of it, I grew stronger day by day, more confident in Him. When the final picture of Alan’s life was completed, I knew I could trust God with the next part of my life. He knew when and where each piece would fit.

God promised in Hebrews 13:5 that He would never leave me or forsake me, and He has been true to His Word. He also promised that He would complete the good work He began in me (Philippians 1:6). The picture of my life is coming together as the Holy Spirit puts each piece in place. He knows the picture on the box lid, and that’s enough for me.