Get a Grip... on Your Phone AND Your Faith!

When your phone is the only such device in the house, it matters where you place it. Setting it down carelessly can lead to trouble, as there is no one else about the place to call your number and let the ring or vibration buzz alert you to its location. All you have to assist you are your own two eyes… and sometimes finding a phone in the mass of objects in your house can be as difficult as spotting Waldo’s red-and-white striped likeness on a page of the famous children’s puzzle books. Retracing your steps and rethinking where you were headed last become the only recourses available to you, and when they are not enough, you are in trouble indeed.

Nothing induces panic in my chest like the thought of losing my phone, as it is simply my lifeline to the outside world. All my contacts, my sources of help… in fact, all the numbers and letters that in combination unlock the details of my life are contained inside of that flat, rectangular wonder. No wonder I freak out when it can’t be found! I don’t know how I’d function without it anymore!

Sometimes the same happens on a spiritual level. We set our Source of help and hope carelessly aside as we go about our days… and then when we suddenly need it, it’s nowhere to be found. And the consequences of that loss are so much harder to recover from than merely purchasing a replacement item at a local electronics store, however inconvenient the restoration process may be.

A life without hope is miserable indeed. Trying to live without something to look forward to, a purpose to pursue, a future event to strive for is like setting a plant in a dark place where it can’t receive the sunlight and water it needs to live, let alone thrive. It eventually leads to the plant’s death. Sadly, a loss of hope can lead to an untimely end to a human life in the same way.

There’s a difference, however. While I’m keenly aware that I live alone, and if I lose my phone, finding it is up to me, the truth of the matter is that we are never truly alone; God is always present, whether we acknowledge His existence or not. He is like the air we breathe, invisible yet indispensable. And just the mere mention of His Name, even an inaudible cry from the heart, summons His ability and resources to whatever need is prompting the call.

I remind myself often when looking for something that nothing is ever truly lost; it is only temporarily misplaced. The same is true with my relationship with God. Even if I’ve set it aside somewhere along my life’s journey, my faith is voice activated; I call and God answers. Always! It’s a promise in the Word. And it works.

Of course, the best course of action is not to lose it in the first place. The older I get the more I realize that I have to live my life consciously rather than on auto-pilot.  I have to think about what I’m doing… where I place things, what I’m looking for, what I need to do next. And the same is true of my spiritual life. I have to stay conscious of God and His Presence within me, His ways, His words, His directions. And when I do that, I never lose track of that which I hold most dear… my relationship with Him.

Perhaps author Ann Voskamp has said it best: “Maybe the most important question to ask your soul every day is simply where will you set your hope today so you don’t lose it?”

Here’s your answer: “So now wrap your heart tightly around the hope that lives within us, knowing that God always keeps His promises!” (Hebrews 10:23 TPT)

The Fence of Faith

As springtime edged towards summer, resuming my early morning walks was something I was eagerly looking forward to. Finally a dry, sunshiny day coincided with my scheduled day off, and soon I was off, rejoicing in the beauty of my surroundings, the warmth of the weather, and the quiet surrounding me. I headed towards the grove of trees to my west, moving steadily because even though I didn't have to go to work, I was still under time pressure. I had put a coffeecake in to bake before heading out the door, confident that I could reach the treeline and get back just in time to pull our breakfast out of the oven.

Exhilarated to be out and exercising once more, I reached the trees and started to turn, as planned. But something stopped me, and I gazed at the little stretch of woods with longing, feeling a pull to step a little farther along the road to where I could see into the grove and enjoy its beauty for just a few seconds more.

And so I did, and just as I got to where I could peer into the tree stand a little deeper, I suddenly gasped and stopped in surprise. There, just feet away from me, stood a beautiful doe and her tiny fawn, likewise enjoying a beautiful day and breakfast out. They lifted their heads and we stared at each other for the longest time; I slowly moved my phone up to where I could snap a photo and the deer began to ease out of the picture at just the same speed. Finally the doe bounded away, her baby at her heels, and I stood for a moment more, awestruck, before I remembered that I had a reason to hurry off, as well.

As it happened, that evening my husband suggested we continue to enjoy the beautiful day by again going on a walk, this time together. We headed down the road in the opposite direction from my morning hike, again enjoying a quiet holiday weekend stroll and commenting on the sights in our neighbors' yards as we passed by. When my husband asked how far I wanted to go, I pointed to the stump of what used to be a huge walnut tree a good ways off in the distance, my usual turnaround point when I walked this way. But as we got closer, we were once again stopped in out tracks, this time by the sight of two very large dogs sitting unrestrained in any way in a yard just up ahead. No fence, no chains, nothing to keep them from defending their property from possible invasion, even by innocent passers-by. We could see a row of little white flags along the border of the property, and my husband suggested that perhaps they marked the presence of an invisible fence. Did we want to trust that such a fence truly did exist, and that the dogs were sufficiently trained to remain within its confines, even at the sight of approaching strangers? As yet the dogs had not noticed us; they were facing a different direction. In silent agreement we turned and headed back towards home.

In our Christian walk, we similarly sometimes have a goal in mind... a level of faith we want to achieve, an answer to prayer we are waiting on, or perhaps just a deepening of our relationship with Him. And so we proceed, but sometimes the cares of this life stop us just short of where God wants to take us. We yield to the pressure and turn around right when we were on the brink of discovery, and so miss a beautiful moment that God had prearranged, just for us. If we would only listen to and respond to the pull of our hearts, to venture just a little bit further, perhaps we would see a whole lot more and be simply awestruck by what He had in mind to show us. How easily we can miss moments of glory, just by turning around a moment too soon.

Or perhaps we are moving steadily towards our breakthrough, our turnaround point... that answer to prayer we have been waiting on. Just as it comes into sight, however, we likewise catch sight of the enemy lurking nearby, intent on keeping us from walking on ground that is rightfully ours, purchased for us by our Savior with His Blood on the cross. We quail at the size and imagined ferociousness of our foe, held back only by the fence of our faith. Perhaps to this point that faith has never been tested, and we are unsure if it is strong enough to keep the enemy at bay. Rather than risk a fight we might lose, we turn tail, and the turnaround in our situation must wait for another day.

Are you at that point today? Has your walk with God taken you to a point where you must decide whether to let Him take you further into uncharted territory, or retreat into the safety of what you already know? It took the Israelites 40 years to enter their Promised Land, simply because they balked at so many of the challenges they encountered, longing at times to return to the life they knew, even as slaves under a tyrannical master. Some of us simply don't have that long to wait! Yet God is longing that we would see these situations as the stepping-stones they are to the answers we so desperately seek. A change in our perspective might lead to a change in our actions...and likewise to the outcome of the situation. Count it all joy!

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”

(James 1:2-4 NKJV)

Walk This Way

Footsteps pounded the ground, racing up behind me. Jumping high, I whirled around to face my attacker. But far from the fearsome figure I was expecting, it was two horses, freshly freed from a night in the barn and feeling frisky in the morning sun that had spotted me walking by and galloped to the fence-line to greet me. If horses can laugh, they were clearly grinning at my sudden fright.

Horses! Seriously? C'mon, man.

It happened twice more the same week. Not horses again, but dogs, appearing out of nowhere and suddenly running up behind me to sniff my ankles. One was a friendly sort, who bounded along happily beside me most of the way home. The other was a ghost-like animal, gray and wary, who vanished again as quickly as he had come. But after a full summer of disturbance-free walks, I was unprepared for canine company of any sort, be it friend or foe.

In years gone by, there were many more dogs in this rural neighborhood than there are now, watchdogs trained to discourage unwanted visitors from entering private property with loud and aggressive barking and the sight of their sharp teeth, boldly displayed. Unfortunately, they routinely escaped from the fencing intended to keep them contained, and could be encountered roaming the road at large. At times I would fill my pockets with doggie biscuits before setting out in the hope I could bribe my way into their favor, but I would also pick up a large rock at the top of my driveway to hurl at any animal that looked to eat me instead of my treats. And many was the day I simply canceled a walk rather than take a chance. Believing Shakespeare's words, “Discretion is the better part of valor. Caution is preferable to rash bravery”, I opted to simply stay home.

All because I was listening to the wrong words.

Maybe it's because it's the Halloween season that I'm so easily spooked. Or it could be that so many recent attacks on unsuspecting civilians have all of us looking over our shoulders a bit more, rethinking where we go and what we do. Due to circumstances beyond our control, our happiness is hindered by the thought in the back of our minds that something horrible could happen at any moment.

The devil is dogging our footsteps and laughing every step of the way. And God wonders why we let that happen.

Despite our best efforts at prevention and preparation, we cannot stop tragedy from occurring. The Bible warns us that in this world we will have tribulation. From natural disasters to man-made chaos to just the struggles of day-to-day living, we sometimes feel like life is pummeling us from the moment we get up to the second we lie down to try to get some fitful sleep. Fear and Dread have become our traveling companions, when God intended Goodness and Mercy to follow us instead.

Thankfully there is something we can do about it. We have weapons at our disposal; we just have to choose the right ones. Instead of filling my pockets and hands with bribes and missiles, I should instead have filled my mind and my mouth with the Word of God. One of the most potent weapons I possess is my voice. When I speak out loud what the Bible says about Who God is, who I am in Him, and what He promises to those who believe in Him, my ears hear what my heart has to say. Faith rises to replace the fear that filled my soul before.

There is only one road that passes in front of my house; I can't simply choose a less dog-inhabited neighborhood. Similarly in life we sometimes have no choice but to walk the path that lies before us; where it leads and the circumstances that govern it are often beyond our control. But we can choose how we proceed, whether cringing in cowardice or boldly stepping out in courage and confidence.

As witnessed this week, dogs still sneak up behind me. The last time it happened, I turned and stood my ground, commanding the animal in a loud voice to simply go home. He turned off the road and slunk away. Similarly, when the devil is nipping at my heels in life nowadays, impacting my decisions, I boldly face my tormentor rather than running away, telling him to take off instead! Then I walk dauntlessly on...down my road...through my daily difficulties... and into the distant future that awaits.

Tell worry and fear to take a hike, then go on and enjoy yours.

“...Do not let your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. [Stop allowing yourselves to be agitated and disturbed; and do not permit yourselves to be fearful and intimidated and cowardly and unsettled.]”

(John 14:27 AMP, emphasis mine)

When Jack Came Back

Photo courtesy of Brian Bridge

We were surprised to arrive at my friend Terry’s house and find the gate to her porch standing open and two of her three dogs greeting us from outside the fence instead of inside where they belonged. Upon entering her home we found Terry with jacket thrown across her back, pulling on her shoes and about to go outside to yell for the missing pup one more time. The dogs having broken out of the yard a couple of hours earlier, all were safely home again except the littlest one, Jack - the one who didn’t like the rain and the cold yet was still away on a night filled with the same. Her daughter despondent over his absence and Terry clearly distracted herself, our weekly fellowship and Bible study meeting was off to a poor start.

We gathered at the dining room table for the evening meal, a delicious repast normally salted with the laughter and banter of friends coming together again after a week’s absence to catch up on each other’s lives. But this week the fellowship was subdued as Jack’s nonappearance hung over the group like a dark cloud, the muted conversation punctuated by Terry’s repeated calls to the dog in the night. In between her trips outside she sat at the table with head down, idly twirling spaghetti noodles on her fork, her heart apart from the discussions going on around her.

Finally Gary could stand it no longer.

“Don’t you know that what’s important to you is important to God?” he asked her. At that she looked up and said, “Of course.”

“Then let’s pray and get this over with,” he said, quickly leading us in a short prayer asking God to bring the dog safely home and thanking Him in advance for doing so.

As the table was cleared for the ensuing study time I struggled with the battle going on in my own mind. God’s “be anxious for nothing” command echoed repeatedly in my brain, even as my mind considered the dangers to a small dog out alone in the night, ranging from cars on the busy street outside to coyotes in the surrounding rural acreage. My hope for a positive outcome bounced around in my heart like a ping-pong ball, slammed about by the paddling of negative circumstances on the one hand and then buoyed in return by my belief on the other. Finally God scored the winning point by asking me which camp I would find myself in when Jack came back in the end, as surely he was going to do - would I be rejoicing in His proven faithfulness with the rest, or apologizing for my lack of trust once more? Too many times I’ve been in the latter group; I didn’t want to hear again the words Jesus spoke to Peter as He reached to rescue him at the end of his water-walking adventure: “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”. Now was the time to choose faith over fear, and I made a conscious decision to do so.

God Himself seemed to applaud my decision, as I subsequently found message after message from His heart to mine in the printed pages of the lesson we were studying. Appropriately called The Transformed Heart, it was a discussion on the way God reveals His presence to us in the storms we go through in life. Surely He did so to me, even as the rain fell in the cold night outside. I captured His words in big circles of blue ink with an increasingly confident smile on my face, to the consternation of my husband/group leader sitting beside me who wondered what on earth I was doing. As my papers grew more and more marked my faith grew, as well, until all doubt was dismissed and belief rose to take its place.

The mention of Peter’s name above reminded me with a smile of another group meeting recorded in the Bible in which the faithful had gathered to pray for Peter’s release from prison. Suddenly their prayer gathering was interrupted when God sent His answer to their request in the form of Peter himself, knocking on the door!  And indeed so were we nearing the end of our weekly time together when Terry’s daughter suddenly jumped up and ran to the back door in response to a noise she heard. Soon a wet and weary Jack was running wildly about us once more before trying to jump into Terry’s lap. Even covered in mud and muck though he was, she opened wide her arms and delightedly welcomed him home. Eventually bundled in a towel and sent off to be bathed, only the overjoyed smiles on the faces around the table and the dirty streaks on Terry’s shirt remained to tell the tale of how God Himself taught us a lesson on His faithfulness on a night when we were studying the same.

The ping-pong ball in my spirit is silent now, the paddles still once more…waiting for the next time that faith and fear face off on opposite ends of another issue. May trust in God ever be victorious in my mind, my heart and my life.

“ The truth is that faith and worry cannot inhabit the same space at the same time. One of them has to go, and we get to choose.” - Graham Cooke

A Penny in His Pocket

Getting dressed for work involves more than just pulling on some clothes anymore. More important than the store uniform itself is what goes into the pants pockets. Bound by habit as well as function, I slip a cough drop, a wrapped piece of candy or two and any notes to myself (like my seemingly daily grocery list) in the left side; on the right I keep a handful of change. It’s those coins that I find I can’t do without, as they cover lack of all kinds that I encounter in an 8-hour workday. Sometimes they quiet the rumbling in a belly that needs a quick bag of chips. At other times they might buy a bagger buddy a can of pop. And then there are times that they save a customer from having to run to the parking lot and dig around the floorboard of his car for a few more cents to cover his bill. I supplement my stash daily with the change from my own transactions and the contents of the zippered coin compartment of my wallet when necessary to ensure that when I walk through the workplace doors each day, I’m fully supplied.

It’s no wonder then that preacher Randy Clark got my attention in a recent message when he asked God to make him a coin in His pocket, available for Him to spend. God likewise has work that He’s about on the earth, and His people are the tools in His shed, the weapons in His arsenal…the coins in His pocket that He uses to get it done.

When I reach into my pocket to fill a need of some kind, I pull out a mixture of coins in my hand. Pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters all come out together, and I select what’s necessary from what I find in my fingers. God simply does the same. Each of us carries a certain spiritual denomination, one that doesn’t refer to our value in God’s sight, but rather the size and kind of job we can handle, based on the giftings and talents we possess. God picks and chooses from what He has available to accomplish His goals.

The Bible says that we all are given a measure of faith, which is our starting point in our spiritual walk. It’s what we do with that faith that matters. The Parable of the Talents found in Matthew 25 tells the story of a man who entrusted his wealth to his three servants while he went away on a journey. One servant was given five portions, or talents, and used them to earn five more. The second servant put the two talents he was given to work and raised another two. But the third simply buried the one talent he was responsible for in the sand and earned nothing but his master’s scorn. His one talent was taken away and reinvested in the one who achieved the most with what he had been given.

We may start off with just a penny’s worth of faith, but we don’t have to stay that way. God reminds us that even those with faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains in the spiritual realm. He desires that we put what faith we have into action, and watch it grow from there.

The old saying, “See a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck” doesn’t mean much to a lot of people any more. These days most folks walk right by a copper-colored coin they see lying on the floor, figuring it isn’t worth the effort to bend and pick it up. Thankfully God doesn’t see penny-people that way. Rather He seems to take special interest in those who are beaten down by life and abandoned on the sidelines, looking past their current circumstances to the potential hidden within, aware of what could be released if only some effort was put into restoring and polishing them. He sees their purchasing power in the spiritual realm.

Maybe the difference is that when we pick up a penny, it’s still a penny. But when God picks up a life, He makes it brand new, and the possibilities before it suddenly become endless. He already has a plan for that person (Jeremiah 29:11), and soon that “coin” is burning a hole in God’s pocket, as the saying goes, so eager is He to put it to work on His purposes.

Oh, that we would truly see ourselves as God does, line up our thinking with His, and strive to become all that He knows we can be. That’s when the abundant life we‘re promised becomes a reality, and we find ourselves shouting a slightly altered version of Isaiah’s famous prayer, “Here am I, Lord! Spend me!”

“And I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then I said, Here am I; send me!”
(Isaiah 6:8 MKJV)

New Year, New Language

One sentence. That's it. Six words, to be exact. That's all the Italian I can speak, despite being surrounded by people who spoke little else in my childhood years.

My father emigrated from Italy with his mother and older sister in the 1920's to be reunited with his father who arrived in America first, round work and then sent for his family. Sent to kindergarten before he could speak a word of English, my dad promptly ran away, only to be returned to his mother sitting proudly in front of a mounted policeman, or so the story goes. Apparently he did eventually go back to school and stayed there, and he and his sister quickly learned to communicate with those around them.Learning English was a much more difficult chore for his stay-at-home mother, so around the house, in bigger family gatherings, and even at the big holiday parties in the basement of my grandmother's San Francisco home, Italian flowed from lips as freely as the wine was poured and the huge platters of homemade ravioli and risotto were passed around the tables. Even my Canadian-born mother picked up enough of the language to be able to understand the conversation around her.

Not so her daughter. Oh, I picked up some words here and there. I can say prosciutto, salami, lasagna and rigatoni with the best of them! Speaking the names of Italian foods and consuming large quantities of the same have never been a problem for me. While I say it too rarely, I can mimic to perfection my grandmother's cry, "Basta! Basta!" ("Enough! Enough!") when pressed to take a third helping of some dish or another. And despite the many years that have passed since those days, the hearty, "Salute!" as wineglasses were raised in toast still echoes in my ears. The one sentence I actually remember and can say to this day was drilled into my head by my father, who was determined that each family member say a greeting and a word or two of introduction on a tape he was making to send to distant relatives back home. While I read an entire paragraph into the microphone that day, all I've retained is the first line.

For years I've talked about rectifying the situation and learning the language with the help of one of the many study aids that are now available. And yet I haven't taken a single step towards accomplishing that goal...until this year. While shopping with the family one day for after-Christmas deals, I stumbled upon a page-a-day calendar that promised to teach me 365 Italian phrases in the course of a year! While that's way too many for me (my goal is to learn one phrase a week), talk about a bargain! My discounted calendar will last me seven years!

I couldn't wait to start! Eagerly the first full week of January I flipped through the pages to find the perfect phrase with which to launch the New Year. When I came across, "I need a nap", I knew I'd found it, and the fact that it (literally) made me "laugh out loud" led me directly to that as the second phrase!

Silly, perhaps, but I'm having such fun with the idea that it's worth it just on that basis alone. Of course, I have nobody to speak my phrases to, and I wouldn't be able to understand their responses if I did. But I love the sound and feel of the words coming off my tongue and am quite content to go around my house babbling in Italian for nobody's benefit but my own. This may very well be the one New Year's resolutin that outlasts the first month of the year.

But it reminds me of another resolution that likewise has to do with the words that come out of my mouth. I entered the New Year tired of the hours, days, and weeks I've wasted on worry and fear in the past. Mentally dubbing this the "Year of No Fear", I set out on a course of action to live free of those pests that have plagued me and crippled my spiritual life for longer than I care to admit. It was not by accident that I received a copy of a favorite author's new book on the subject for Christmas, nor that my pastor preached a sermon on that very topic as the New Year began, as well. Rather, they were confirmations from God that this was a wise course of action for me to take.

I've found that it likewise involves the study of a whole new language, and that, as in the learning of Italian phrases, I have to think for a moment before I speak, making sure that what comes out of my mouth is not only biblically correct but pronounced with faith and accented with confidence, rather than spoken in the dialect of doubt and in the vernacular of my current circumstances and feelings. It's not as easy as I thought it would be. Health issues, money problems and relationship struggles all tend to tie up my tongue and tangle my faith talk. But I find that as I flip through the pages of my reference tool, the Bible, and repeatedly voice aloud the promises I find there, not only do the words flow more fluently off my tongue but they change the way I think and live my life, as well. Thankfully I'm surrounded by people who also communicate in the language of faith, and who speak it back to me with words I not only understand but that my spirit eagerly responds to.

My dad passed away many years ago now, long before the desire to learn his native tongue gained a foothold in me, but I know he'd get a kick out of my current interest. Yet I know that my heavenly Father is listening to the words I say every day, and so I don't want my spiritual vocabulary to be limited to just a few phrases or a handful of promises I learned as a child. May whatever language comes out of my mouth express the thoughts of my heart in words that will make Him smile.

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer." (Psalm 19:14 NIV)