Looking for a particular post or topic?
Search here:
Archive
- December 2024 7
- November 2024 8
- October 2024 9
- September 2024 9
- August 2024 9
- July 2024 7
- June 2024 8
- May 2024 9
- April 2024 9
- March 2024 8
- February 2024 9
- January 2024 9
- December 2023 6
- November 2023 9
- October 2023 9
- September 2023 7
- August 2023 9
- July 2023 8
- June 2023 9
- May 2023 5
- April 2023 6
- March 2023 5
- February 2023 9
- January 2023 10
- December 2022 7
- November 2022 11
- October 2022 12
- September 2022 9
- August 2022 13
- July 2022 7
- June 2022 1
- April 2022 3
- March 2022 4
- February 2022 4
- January 2022 1
- December 2021 3
- November 2021 4
- September 2021 2
- August 2021 1
- July 2021 3
- June 2021 4
- May 2021 1
- April 2021 2
- March 2021 1
- February 2021 2
- January 2021 7
- December 2020 3
- November 2020 4
- October 2020 4
- September 2020 6
- August 2020 5
- July 2020 3
- June 2020 6
- May 2020 8
- April 2020 7
- March 2020 1
- February 2020 2
- January 2020 6
- December 2019 2
- November 2019 3
- October 2019 1
- September 2019 2
- August 2019 6
- July 2019 5
- June 2019 7
- May 2019 10
- April 2019 9
- March 2019 13
- February 2019 17
- January 2019 20
- December 2018 17
- November 2018 21
- October 2018 22
- September 2018 14
- August 2018 22
- July 2018 22
- June 2018 21
- May 2018 11
- April 2018 20
- March 2018 21
- February 2018 20
- January 2018 27
- December 2017 10
- November 2017 21
- October 2017 22
- September 2017 19
- August 2017 23
- July 2017 21
- June 2017 19
- May 2017 20
- April 2017 20
- March 2017 18
- February 2017 19
- January 2017 17
- December 2016 18
- November 2016 17
- October 2016 17
- September 2016 18
- August 2016 17
- July 2016 15
- June 2016 13
- May 2016 17
- April 2016 16
- March 2016 18
- February 2016 18
- January 2016 20
- December 2015 16
- November 2015 19
- October 2015 21
- September 2015 19
- August 2015 20
- July 2015 21
- June 2015 20
- May 2015 17
- April 2015 20
- March 2015 20
- February 2015 18
- January 2015 21
- December 2014 12
- November 2014 16
- October 2014 19
- September 2014 21
- August 2014 19
- July 2014 18
- June 2014 19
- May 2014 22
- April 2014 16
- March 2014 12
- February 2014 17
- January 2014 19
- December 2013 14
- November 2013 17
- October 2013 13
- September 2013 17
- August 2013 16
- July 2013 11
- June 2013 17
- May 2013 16
- April 2013 8
- March 2013 17
- February 2013 16
- January 2013 22
- December 2012 13
- November 2012 14
- October 2012 17
- September 2012 15
- August 2012 16
- July 2012 16
- June 2012 14
- May 2012 16
- April 2012 14
- March 2012 19
- February 2012 16
- January 2012 19
- December 2011 7
- November 2011 16
- October 2011 16
- September 2011 16
- August 2011 18
- July 2011 17
- June 2011 13
- May 2011 16
- April 2011 15
- March 2011 18
- February 2011 12
- January 2011 14
- December 2010 10
- November 2010 11
- October 2010 16
- September 2010 16
- August 2010 8
- July 2010 14
- June 2010 7
- May 2010 17
- April 2010 13
- March 2010 15
- February 2010 15
- January 2010 19
- December 2009 12
- November 2009 13
- October 2009 12
- September 2009 20
- August 2009 15
- July 2009 14
- June 2009 9
- May 2009 6
- April 2009 15
- March 2009 4
- February 2009 10
- January 2009 16
- December 2008 7
- November 2008 13
- October 2008 10
- September 2008 19
- August 2008 17
- July 2008 7
- January 1999 2
Feathered Friends and a Faithful Father
The sound of hedge trimmers filled the air as workers buzzed about our property, giving our shrubs their annual haircut. While the trimming certainly improved the appearance of our garden, not everyone was thrilled with the landscape makeover. Our feathered friends, who had made these hedges their temporary homes, were notably disturbed by this disruption to their peaceful existence.
Day after day, I gazed out my bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the familiar birds that usually frequented our feeder. The garden seemed eerily quiet without their cheerful chirping and playful acrobatics. My heart sank a little each time I noticed the untouched birdseed on the driveway outside my office.
When I expressed my concern to Jason, he offered a suggestion that was both practical and profound. "Why don't we make an extra effort to show them we still care? Let's put out more food than usual, maybe even some special treats."
Tiny Treasures
I thought we had won. After weeks of setting traps and securing every nook and cranny of our Welsh cottage, the unwelcome mouse that had taken up residence seemed to have moved on. The victory was ours! Or so I thought until the other morning when I opened the pantry door.
There he sat, bold as brass, perched atop the shelf with my favorite chocolates. The little thief had gnawed through the wrappers and was helping himself to my precious stash! We locked eyes for a moment—me in horror, him in what I'm pretty sure was smug satisfaction—before we both fled in opposite directions. He scurried into his hidden passage while I slammed the door and retreated to the safety of my office, mourning the loss of my chocolate comfort.
Reshaped, Not Replaced
My husband is quite the handyman. Give him a problem to solve or something to build, and he'll figure out a way to make it happen. So, when he decided to build his own sound system a few months ago, I wasn't surprised. What did surprise me was how much time and effort went into the planning stages.
For weeks, Jason pored over diagrams, measurements, and parts lists. He watched countless YouTube videos about speaker building and sound quality. When he finally had all his supplies, he commandeered the dining room and a portion of the living room (much to my dismay) and began the painstaking process of putting everything together.
At first, he was thrilled with his accomplishment. The speakers looked professional, and they worked—sort of. But it didn't take long before his excitement waned.
Invisible Lines and Impossible Standards
Have you ever felt like you're walking through a maze where the walls keep moving? Or perhaps trying to follow rules written in invisible ink? Welcome to the club! I've spent countless hours trying to decipher the unwritten social contract that seems to govern every interaction, only to find myself stumbling over invisible lines I didn't even know existed.
"Remind me about these things, but don't be a nag."
"Show initiative, but don't overstep."
"Give me all the information, but don't get bogged down in the details."
“Work hard, but don't overdo it."
"Rest, but don't be lazy."
The list of contradictory expectations goes on and on, enough to make anyone's head spin! Even in our spiritual lives, we often find ourselves trapped between seemingly opposing directives.
"Pray with faith, but don't be presumptuous."
"Trust God completely, but plan responsibly."
"Pour out your heart to God, but don't gripe or complain."
Martha, My Hero
Let me tell you something that might shock you: Martha is one of my Biblical heroes. I know—you're probably thinking, "Has she lost her marbles? Martha? The one Jesus gently rebuked?" But hear me out because Martha and I are like two peas in a very stressed-out pod. You see, I'm a recovering perfectionist. I'm the girl who color-codes her sock drawer and alphabetizes her spice rack. (Don't judge me; organization is next to godliness, right? No? Well, it should be!) Like Martha, I love the Lord with all my heart, but boy, oh boy, do I get distracted. It's like my brain is a puppy in a room full of squirrels—always chasing after the next worry or task.
I've walked a mile in Martha's sandals, and let me tell you, it's not a comfortable stroll. I've let my to-do list become my taskmaster, pushing my time with God to the bottom of the heap. And just like Martha, I've learned the hard way that putting chores before the Lord is a recipe for spiritual indigestion.
Beauty From Ashes
A few days ago, I shared with you a devotion about fireweed and how it can remind us of the fleeting nature of life. Today, I'd like to share another encouraging thought the Lord showed me through this remarkable plant.
You see, fireweed isn't just known for its brief but beautiful life cycle. It's also famous for its uncanny ability to thrive in the most unlikely places. Where forest fires have ravaged the land, mudslides have torn through hillsides, or human activity has left scars on the earth, fireweed is often the first to appear, painting the landscape with its cheerful purple hues.
As I gazed at the fireweed, I couldn't help but marvel at God's intricate design. He created a plant that not only survives in damaged areas but flourishes there. It's as if the Lord looked at the devastation and said, "Watch what I can do with this."
The Odd Flower Out
I was out in the garden the other day, hanging up some laundry and enjoying the sun's warmth on my face, when I noticed something unusual. A single daisy-like flower bloomed tall and steady in the middle of one of my backyard bushes. I had seen it before—last year, in fact—and it had struck me as odd then, too. It seemed so out of place, protruding from the bush all alone in its uniqueness.
As I stood there, admiring the flower, I couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with it. Indeed, we've all had moments where we've felt like the proverbial square peg trying to fit into a round hole. We've all experienced that sense of not quite belonging, even among those we consider to be our closest friends and family. It's a feeling of isolation, being different, and standing out like a sore thumb.
Blind Faith: Trusting God’s Process and Timing
There are many wonderful miracles recorded in the Bible, but this one—in my mind—stands out among the others. It’s. . .well, different. When the woman with the issue of blood touched the hem of Jesus’ garment, she was immediately healed. When others sought healing, Jesus spoke, and without delay, they were healed. On other occasions, a gentle touch of the Master was all it took to drive away the illness or the demons. But on this occasion, it seems as if Jesus’ first attempt at healing was unsuccessful. Notice, I said it seems that way, but I don’t believe that at all.
Jesus is perfect in all His ways. There isn’t anything He can’t do. So, why is it—do you think—that his first touch didn’t completely heal this blind man?
Lessons From the Birds, Part Two
In my last devotion, I shared about the persistent sparrow who refused to give up on getting his share of the suet ball. Today, I want to revisit that scene because, as is often the case with God's creation, there are multiple lessons we can glean from a single moment.
As I continued to watch the birds that day, my attention was drawn to another sparrow—one who took a different approach altogether. You see, while most of the birds were content to jostle for position on the side of the feeder, one resourceful sparrow decided to think outside the box—or should I say, inside the feeder? He flew to the top and went down inside the feeder, allowing him unhindered access to the last ball. Sneaky, huh?
Lessons From the Birds, Part One
I'm always fascinated by the birds that visit our backyard feeder. They're a lively bunch, full of personality and quirks. This morning, as I sat sipping my hot tea and watching them flutter about, I couldn't help but chuckle at their antics.
One particularly stubborn sparrow refused to share the last remaining suet ball. He perched on the feeder, puffing out his chest and squawking at any bird who dared to come near. The other birds would try to sneak in for a quick bite, but the sparrow was having none of it. He was determined to guard his prize.
As I watched this little drama unfold, I found myself thanking God for His wonderful qualities, which are never in limited supply.