Beauty and Bands
As I mentioned before, with our upcoming ladies' meetings on the horizon, I've been knee-deep in fairy tale themes and decorations. I confess that even during my quiet time with the Lord this morning, my mind was still swirling with images of glass slippers and enchanted roses. So when I opened my Bible to Zechariah 11 and read about Beauty and Bands, I couldn't help but smile at God's sense of humor.
"And I took unto me two staves; the one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands; and I fed the flock." (Zechariah 11:7)
Beauty and Bands. It immediately transported me to the beloved tale of Beauty and the Beast. You know the story—a beautiful young woman, a cursed prince, a magical rose, and the power of true love. But as I continued reading, I realized God wasn't telling me a fairy tale. He was revealing something far more profound.
The Sweet Fragrance of Worship
Have you ever noticed how certain scents can transport you back in time? The aroma of freshly baked chocolate cake reminds me of my grandmother's kitchen, while the scent of pine needles whisks me away to my favorite childhood spot—the Big Rock. But one fragrance mentioned in Scripture particularly captivates me –the spikenard Mary poured out.
Picture the scene with me: Jesus is dining at Simon the leper's house in Bethany. The room buzzes with conversation when suddenly, Mary enters with an alabaster box of precious ointment. Without hesitation, she breaks the container and pours its contents over Jesus's head and feet. The Bible tells us, "Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment" (John 12:3).
Finding God in Lost Things
Have you ever lost something and searched everywhere, only to come up empty-handed? That's exactly what happened with my dog's favorite toy, Robby the Robot. This wasn't just any toy. It was a clever little contraption that would roll and wobble around, dispensing treats as it went. Tess adored it, probably because it combined two of her greatest loves: play and food.
But one day, Robby mysteriously vanished. At first, I wasn't too concerned. Tess has a habit of rolling and batting her toys into the oddest places, so I assumed he'd turn up eventually. However, as days turned into weeks, I became increasingly determined to solve the mystery of the missing robot.
I crawled on my hands and knees, peering under every piece of furniture. I checked behind bookcases, inside cupboards, and even among the many boots and shoes by the door.
Making Our Story Count
For we spend our years as a tale that is told. - Psalm 90:9
As we wrap up our series on "Once Upon a Time," we've discovered that real life has both similarities and differences to fairy tales. We've explored how God writes better stories than the Grimm Brothers and how our struggles aren't always resolved with a wave of a magic wand. But today, let's focus on making our life story worth telling. After all, according to our verse, we spend our years as a tale that is told. The question is, what kind of tale are we telling?
Like any good story, our lives have a beginning, middle, and end. But unlike fictional tales, we're writing ours in real time, and we don't get to edit the previous chapters. So, how do we ensure our story is worth telling?
How Real Life Differs From Fairy Tales
Growing up, I loved fairy tales. The dashing prince. The beautiful princess. The epic quest. The happily ever after. Even now, I find myself drawn to stories with similar themes, though I've long since learned that real life rarely follows the fairy tale format. And you know what? That's a good thing!
Our Story Isn't About Us
Unlike fairy tale heroes who take center stage in their stories, we're called to play supporting roles in a much grander narrative. Think about it. In fairy tales, everything revolves around the protagonist. Their wishes. Their dreams. Their journey. But in real life, we're part of God's story, and He's the true protagonist. Our purpose isn't to achieve our own "happily ever after" but to glorify the King of kings.
How Our Lives Are Like a Fairy Tale
I've been knee-deep in fairy tales lately, preparing for our ladies' luncheon and retreat. You know how it goes. Once something gets in your head, it seems to pop up everywhere. Even my morning Bible reading took on a magical quality when I stumbled across Psalm 90:9, which speaks of spending our years "as a tale that is told."
Sitting there in my cozy office, watching the Welsh mist roll across the hills outside my window, I found myself thinking about the many ways our lives are both similar to and different from these beloved fairy tales. In today's devotion, we'll explore some of the similarities, and in the next devotion, we'll look at the differences.
Sweetness From the Stone
In Deuteronomy 32:13, we find a fascinating image where God speaks of making His people "suck honey out of the rock." This same imagery appears again in Psalm 81:16: "He should have fed them also with the finest of the wheat: and with honey out of the rock should I have satisfied thee." At first glance, it seems like an odd combination. After all, honey comes from bees, not rocks. Yet, there's profound meaning in this divine metaphor.
The imagery makes perfect sense when we consider how wild bees often build their hives in rocky places like crevices, caves, and cliff faces. These natural fortresses protect the colonies and their precious honey. When someone discovers such a treasure hidden within the rocks, accessing it requires effort and persistence. Breaking through the rocky barrier to reach the sweet reward within isn't easy, but the result is worth the work.
When Progress Looks Like Snow
Living in Wales has taught me a thing or two about unpredictable weather. This past week has been a perfect example of nature's indecisiveness. One moment, pristine white snow blankets our driveway, transforming our little corner of Wales into a winter wonderland. The next, the sun peeks through the clouds, and I think, "Finally! Back to normal!" But before I can even grab my walking shoes for an afternoon stroll with Tess, another flurry descends, and we're right back where we started.
This morning, as I watched yet another wave of snowflakes dance their way to earth, I couldn't help but see a parallel to my spiritual journey. You see, I often expect my walk with the Lord to be a straight path of constant improvement. One prayer, one sermon, one revelation, and boom, I should be transformed into the perfect Christian, right?
Wrong. Oh, so wrong!
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.