She reaches out weekly. Sometimes through email if we miss our hug at church. And when she asks how I am, I know she wants the honest truth no matter how long it takes me to get it all out. We don’t see each other as often as we’d like, but I know she lifts me up to Our Father in prayer often. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s the best kind of friend there is.
I trust her with my heart because she handles it with love and always lifts it up to Jesus for Him to take care of.
Seasons change. If I had it my way, I would forever live during Spring, where there is new birth and the promise of the warmth of Summer. But with each passing day, I see signs of Fall, as the leaves change color and are making their way to my driveway in record number. And although I don’t mind the Fall, I will turn a corner and walk straight into Winter. And with Winter comes storms. And when the storms come, you will find me inside, under a blanket, sipping a hot cup of cocoa and enjoying a warm fire. I will do everything within my power to avoid a storm.
Sometimes you don’t know why the Lord is calling you to read a particular book in the bible. In recent months I felt like God wanted me to know the gospel from John – like a pro! Not sure if I am a professional anything, maybe with God’s grace and mercy I am a decent writer but I am not a theologian or bible scholar by any means! But God is good. He speaks to everyone through his Word, especially those who seek after him with their whole heart (Jeremiah 29-13, You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.)
Have you ever been tempted to think of Jesus as one who was so spiritual that He didn’t need to pray?
Surely He had a special connection with God, an influence because He was God’s son. Right?
Here’s what the Bible has to say about that:
“In the days of His flesh, He offered up both prayers and supplications with loud crying and tears to the One able to save Him from death, and He was heard because of His piety. Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from the things which He suffered” (Hebrews 5:7-8 NASB).
We have a glimpse of the depth of Christ’s heart as He prayed.
I have a confession I would like to share with you today. I have a hard time with the domestic side of life my life. OK, I’ll just say it. I really Stink, with a capital S at the whole domestic side of life. I am convinced my mother has a gene that just did not get passed down to me. It’s the one that rejoices in ironing. I am not joking. The woman finds ironing therapeutic. Meanwhile my husband knows that asking me to iron would require us both to be in therapy. OK, that is a bit dramatic but you get the point.
At a time when just being a young black man in America is enough to get you killed—you know what I’m talking about, you’ve read the headlines—I wonder what the other mommies tell their sons. All mommies worry about their sons, don’t they? All mommies tell their sons to be careful, to be respectful, to stand up for themselves, walking in the Truth of God in whose image they are made, right? Are other mommies afraid for their sons?
Here is what I know of fear. I am sufficiently realistic to acknowledge that I will never be free from them. However, I declare that they are not the boss of me, and will never paralyze me to the point of immobility.
Today, I fought discouragement
Because I looked at me instead of God
I looked at circumstances
Instead of Him
But then, I fixed my gaze on Him
And by the time evening fell
Discouragement had also fallen away
Looking at our difficult circumstances can often get us into trouble. When we examine what is going on around us, it is easy to think this is bad, this is messed up, and there is no way this can be resolved. It is easy to fall into the trap of even saying to ourselves, I don’t see how God can work through this, or fix this.
Christmas is not to far in the distance anymore so I thought this would be a great message to share. After reading Luke 1 and 2 I found myself marveling at the differences in the birth of John the Baptist and Jesus the Messiah. It’s pretty remarkable to see how God wanted John’s arrival to be revealed at the center of the Jewish nation, but he picked for Jesus to be born in a manger. Another interesting point revealed to me – John was the son of Zechariah, a priest and his mother was also highly looked up to. Jesus’s parents, Mary and Joseph, were just average Jewish people.