Jesus & My Orange Juice

Worth the Read

2012-03-02T13:21:00.000-06:00

The pain in my shoulder was intense. Each movement brought a new wave of discomfort. With four kids, surgery (i.e. incapacitation) wasn't an option but rehab was. When I first visited Dr. Brad of the Cole Pain Therapy Group I could only raise my left arm 45 degrees from my leg. From the first exam, his confidence was clear. He had the skills and tools to correct my frozen shoulder.

Recently, Dr. Brad asked if I'd write a referral for him on Google places and yelp. I could not be more grateful for his professionalism, kindness and care so my answer was a resounding yes! It took mere moments of my time but I pray God uses my meager offering to attract more patients to this quality practice.

Sometimes the greatest acts of service take the least amount of time to complete. I need to remember that.

Carey Scott

Recently one of my friends asked in a comment here on my blog who are some of the blog writers who most inspire me. The list jumped to my mind immediately. Carey, Heatherly, Teri, Patti and Rachel. It surprised me how quickly I knew the answer but another thought followed in moments. I know how much they inspire me but do they?

Patti Hazlett

If I'm willing to write an internet review for my doctor, how much more willing should I be to write a review of the women whose writing most touches my heart. If you've never read these women, allow me to tell you why you want to.

Carey Scott is one of the most authentic women I've ever known. She writes from the deepest places of her heart. Love spills out with every mark of her pen. If you want to walk through life with a real friend, read Carey.

Heatherly Sylvia

Heatherly Sylvia is the friend you wish you'd met in kindergarten. You read even a few paragraphs of her writing and know life would be smoother if you were walking its' road next to her. She gives you encouragement and strength for the journey through humor and emotion.

Teri Johnson is a visionary. She sees life both as it is and as it can be and equips you with the tools to reach your full potential. She is a cheerleader rooting for God's best in your home, life and family. When you read her, you feel empowered and ready to take life head on.

Teri Johnson

Patti Hazlett is a 360 watt lightbulb of God's grace. She delivers wisdom with such clarity it's like reading a passage of scripture with new eyes. Her supercharged personality shines through her words and gives your heart a new level of resolve and purpose.

Rachel Snyder

Rachel Snyder is a living laugh. She calls herself The Lazy Christian but her readers have no chance at laziness as they read. If her writing doesn't exercise your laughing lungs, nothing will. Better every line is laced not just with wit but wisdom. She talks to the parts of you kept hidden and surfaces God's best within.

I strongly urge you to check out these five women. Your life, home, marriage and parenting will be not only enriched but transformed as you do. They are the epitome of God's best and my life is different because they dared to whisper yes to the call of God to write. Won't you join me as their reader?

What do You Think About That?

2012-02-27T11:52:00.002-06:00

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways", declares the Lord.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts."

Isaiah 68:8-9

The hum of the tires on the road was punctuated by a rousing game of "Guess the Animal". I was it so Carynne (5) was busy tossing close-ended questions from the back seat.

"Does it live at the zoo?"

"Yes."

"Does it have four legs?"

"Yes."

"Does it have a long neck?"

"Yes."

"Is it a brachiosaurus?"

I gripped the steering wheel to subdue my laughter.

"Give me a hint."

"It starts with the letter G."

"Is it a zebra?"

I went ahead and gave her the round based on entertainment value!

Some days I feel like my life is one long round of "Guess the Outcome". I peer at the limited facts I have and try to assume where God is taking my life or how He will resolve my current issue. The answer seems as obvious to me as the giraffe was in my game with Carynne. God usually has a much more creative solution in mind - a brachiosaurus has nothing on Him!

Instead of wasting time thinking about things beyond my scope of control, I need to focus my mind and heart on praising the One Whose thoughts carry me into every tomorrow.

What do you think about that?

God is Counting on You

2012-02-21T11:13:00.001-06:00

The families of Levi however were not counted among the others.

Numbers 1:47

Numbers. Just seeing the name of the book makes me not want to read it and I'm a numbers kind of girl. I just would rather calculate them than read them. This morning I read the first two chapters of Numbers. I read with expectancy. I have long believed God speaks through all scripture. He even promised us He would in 2 Timothy 3:16-17. God did not disappoint.

Nestled among counts of the various tribes of Israel is this statement. "The families of Levi however were not counted among the others." God gave Moses precise instructions concerning a census of the people. Those instructions included the Levi not being counted.

The Levi were the priests - the church leaders of the day. There was no need to count them because God calls the precise number of individuals He needs to fill the roles He has for them. I sometimes struggle with this truth.

I want to be used by God. I want Him to do big things for His kingdom in and through me. Sometimes I see others get assignments I wish I had.

Does that ever happen to you?

Do you secretly long to use your interior design skills to decorate for big church events?

Do you sing in the choir but wish you'd be asked to do a solo?

Do you desire to use your gift of organization to streamline a messy ministry?

We can spend our time counting the numbers God's given a particular job to do or we can change the tone of our heart so God can count on us.

On days when I wrestle with God's assignments for me, I open my calendar and give my time over to Him - not fifteen minutes or a few hours. I give Him my day and ask Him to use me where He needs me. He knows the needs of His church and His people.

Today I want to be counted among the number listening to the whisper of God and experiencing the joy of serving Him. Wherever. Whatever. God, you can count on me.

He Loves Me

2012-02-14T13:35:00.001-06:00

Today I'd like to invite you to join me at my church's online Bible study site. My friend, Kristen Albaugh, and I write a study there for women in our church or community for whom a traditional Bible study doesn't work. We are studying the names of God. This week we are tackling one of the most difficult to believe - Bridegroom.

Is it hard to believe that God recklessly, passionately pursues you?

This Valentine's Day, I'd like to share a piece of my love journey with you. Read about it here.

Happy Valentine's Day. You Are Loved.

Lady in Waiting

2012-02-12T08:06:00.001-06:00

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I put my hope.

Psalm 130:5

I looked up to and admired them both. My sisters, six and eight years my senior, were my models for who and what I should become. I don’t recall the exact date but it became clear to me they were in a club I was yet to enter - Womanhood. I dreamed of the day and wished with all my heart to join them.

It was under a cloudless Kansas sky, my mom drove me to the mall. This day was big. Huge even. I was just ten years old yet my mom acquiesced and we were en route to get my ears pierced. Step one of two to reach my goal of maturation would soon be marked from my list.

When I returned, "holier" than I’d left, I strutted around my sisters’ sun blankets to ensure they saw the sparkling treats which adorned my ears. My swagger blocked the sun and I was soon shooed back into the house. Women only in the sunbathing zone!

Imagine my utter delight when just a few hours later that telltale sign appeared. Step two of blastoff to womanhood burst on the scene. My cycle had begun. This time I sprinted outside certain the announcement of my current status would earn me a place on the mat. It did not. The gap between my sisters and I wasn’t menstruation or jewelry. It was age - a chasm no physical change could close. I would forever be the younger sister.

At ten I didn’t realize much of life is spent waiting:

The nine long months of pregnancy

The years for an adoption to come through

The indeterminate span of time for a spouse to find work

The decade spent writing before the first book is published

The hours until your teen comes home

The years until retirement

All of us wait on something. For years I thought when life paused I was waiting on God. One day it occurred to me perhaps He was waiting on me instead. It's in the interims of life my character develops. I grow in grace and compassion. I learn patience and trust.

Waiting is not wasted. It is packed with the precious. That's why I love being a lady in waiting.

A Street Called Freedom

2012-02-09T17:33:00.001-06:00

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

Matthew 5:44

"You're a Meanie Geanie!" It was the ultimate insult hurled across the room when my brother and I were mad at each other. I don't even remember the three other names but I remember there were a total of four classifications for unacceptable sibling behavior. Meanie Geanie was reserved for the most despicable.

Clearly I did not grow up in a house of fighters. We are stuffers. We are card carrying members of the Conflict Avoider Club. We sweep issues behind large pieces of furniture where they are safely hidden with dust bunnies and can't be seen or discussed.

Whether we lock it under the key of our heart or blab about it on aisle three of the local supermarket, we all have stuff. Whether we avoid it like an IRS audit or post it proudly on our front door, we all have stuff. For me Meanie Geanie is a much more palatable label than enemy. But whatever you call it, decide to do something with it.

Pray for your enemies. Prayer is the door through which forgiveness walks.

I tweeted that this week. It is a lesson I've learned in the trenches of my life. There is someone in my life who has tortured me and my family financially, emotionally and legally. Nearly every interaction with this person leaves a another burn mark on the surface of my heart. If ever there were a Meanie Geanie...

In moments of quiet despair, I pray for God to make their work satisfying and prosperous.

In times of unbearable pain, I pray for their marriage to blossom and bring joy.

In seasons of bitterness, I pray for every spiritual blessing in Christ to pour out on their home.

These prayers first fall from a hypocrite's lips but they land on the heart of a Jesus lover. They open the door to forgiveness. Forgiveness brings the gift of freedom.

Freedom from despair, pain and bitterness.

Won't you join me? Pray for your enemies. Prayer is the door through which forgiveness walks. Forgiveness strolls on a street called Freedom.

Hello My Name Is...

2012-02-06T10:58:00.000-06:00

For those who know your name will trust in you,

for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.

Psalm 9:10

Right now I can hear her voice. Strains of "Glo-ooooooo-ria" intermixed with "Jesus is a Good Friend". I am often amazed how a single line of praise can keep Carynne singing for hours. Her song overflows from her heart - a well of kindness.

Her birthday is tomorrow and I'm not sure who's more excited. I delight in the opportunity to celebrate the gift she is to our family. When I asked her what she wanted to eat for her birthday dinner she quickly rattled off her choices:

Macaroni n Cheese with Sliced Hot Dogs
Pickle Spears
Roasted Cauliflower
Celery with Peanut Butter
Ice Cream

This group of foods are uniquely her. Few other almost five year old would select cauliflower or pickles. Some might select mac-n-cheese but likely not celery. Carynne is unafraid to express who she is.

Am I?

Almost every Wednesday I meet my mom friends at Chick-fil-a for lunch. The employees see us coming and know a bundle of kids, laughter and a touch of high maintenance is headed their way. As I place my own unique order, I usually feel my cheeks redden. I'm embarrassed to ask for two sunflower seeds and no croutons or an extra honey barbeque sauce. My request makes me feel like I'm asking too much, as if I'm wearing a giant name badge reading, "Hello...My Name is Demanding."

Fear of expressing myself stems from a desire to remain hidden. Unseen. To just blend in.

But God...

He wants me to hide only in Him, to trust in His name and to blend in with His grace.

Tomorrow we will sing the Happy Birthday song but it will be distinctly Carynne's because we will insert her name.

Today I will trust in His name. I will wear a name badge over my heart. It reads..."His".

My Brush With Fame

2012-02-02T10:50:00.001-06:00

The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.

Exodus 33:11

This morning my favorite national Christian radio station, KLove, was broadcasting live from Hope, my church. After I dropped Carynne at Preschool I weighed my options. I could use my feminine wiles and get my hubby, Hope COO, to escort me in to meet them. Or I could listen to my inner voice of better judgment. If I met them it would probably turn out like the last time I met one of my Christian heroes - I'd be struck dumb (and may not be even to speak-ha!).

Three years ago I meandered into a regular church dinner with my hubby. Within minutes my favorite radio pastor, James MacDonald, who I affectionately call Jimmie Mac, came into the room and sat right beside us. At the time Dr. MacDonald was running a James MacDonald look-alike contest on his website. The only words I could think were, "You should enter the Jimmie Mac twin contest. You'd win for sure." Unfortunately even those were peanut buttered to the back of my throat.

Have you ever heard someone list the questions they want to ask God when they get to heaven?

Something tells me in the presence of the Almighty all words are silenced.

Do you, like me, wonder what it would be like to talk to God face to face?

I didn't meet the KLove morning show today. I met with God instead. I was too awestruck by His grace and mercy to talk. I listened instead.

As I listened to the heart of God, He righted my path.

As I pressed my ear close to His chest, He soothed my worries.

As I nestled into His arms, He gave me courage to face my day.

Meeting with Him is the Ultimate brush with fame encounter.

Is Your Quiet Time Noisy?

2012-01-31T11:24:00.004-06:00

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts...and be thankful

Colossians 3:15

It was 5:45 this morning. Snuggled in my favorite chair, I was just diving into some time alone with God when a whirlwind burst through the bedroom door. Clara slid sideways through the door like Kramer from Seinfeld wearing a Minnie Mouse costume and smile as bright as the noonday sun.

Part of my heart yearned to continue in a quiet place with God. The larger part won out. I matched her smile, threw open my arms and watched her run race speed from the door into my lap. I spent the remaining moments of my "quiet time" praying over her head and whispering words of blessing into her life.

As I did, I listed reasons in my head to be thankful for this moment:

Her energy infuses my heart.

Her enthusiasm dims the rough moments of my day.

Her effervescence fuels my attitude.

Sometimes quiet time isn't quiet.

Do thoughts of work invade your space?

Does your phone ring into your silence?

Do errands demand your attention?

Spend a moment thankful for the interruption...

a job that provides for your family

an abundance of family and friends

a full life

Gratitude extends small moments with God into big changes in our heart.

What's New With You?

2012-01-27T12:22:00.003-06:00

I want men everywhere to lift up holy hands in prayer.

1 Timothy 2:8

I see her feet dangle inside her red and yellow self-propelled plastic Cozy Coupe. Those feet grew and few inches and now press the pedals of a car which she is legally licensed to drive without the accompaniment of a parent. As the winds of fall dropped leaves from the trees, I counted.

Twenty trips with my baby girl seated to my right.

Six whispers from her heart together in the car.

Oh how I dreaded the passing of those precious conversations. I wondered how our relationship would change with her new found freedom. I longed to keep her fifteen but I delighted in watching her blossom into sixteen.

Sixteen came with an unexpected surprise. When she leaves and when she arrives she texts or calls. These moments are brief bursts of sunshine to my soul.

I wonder how our Heavenly Father feels when we begin a new phase of life.

New baby.

New job.

New ministry.

As we press our feet on the accelerator of life, we can choose to take Him with us into the new or leave Him behind in the old. Perhaps our new will bring with it more frequent check ins. Little puffs of prayer breathed into our new normal.

He's waiting by the phone. His heart flutters when our name lights up on the display of His heart. He wants to know what's new?

Not Restored; Renewed

2012-01-24T13:14:00.000-06:00

May your love and your truth always protect me.

Psalm 40:11b

Every time I looked at my hand it was like a thousand rainbows has descended from the sky and landed on my finger. When my sweetheart asked me to marry him, his invitation was accompanied by a ring so beautiful it seemed more a dream than his proposal. Its' beauty was more surface than sure, however, and after just eight years of marriage my setting needed serious repair.

The jeweler's evaluation was not positive. They could repair it but not restore it to its' original condition. My setting had been battered and would never return to the designer's intended level of beauty. Thankfully, my ring is insured and my insurance company is willing to protect its' investment. They will pay to have my setting replaced rather than risk the total loss of the stone set within.

My life was in need of serious repair. I had been battered and I could not return to my Designer's intended level of beauty. Thankfully, my life is insured and my Insurer is willing to protect His investment. He sent a Replacement for me to make my life something entirely new.

I want to I approach life like I value the gift of the Insurer. His invitation is accompanied by a life so beautiful it seems like a dream. I long to take the time to thank Him in moments both easy and stressful. I want to delight in the way His grace dances around and in my life like a thousand rainbows.

I seek to protect His investment. I desire to guard my words knowing they shape the beauty of my world. I want to hedge my family with prayer. I want to know His heart so He will revolutionize mine.

The Insurer does more than restore. He Re-News.

Life Interpreted

2012-01-19T06:03:00.000-06:00

We heard a language we did not understand.

Psalm 81:5

Germany. Now it sounds so far away but I called that country home my fourth year of life. To immerse me in the culture and language, my mother enrolled me in all German-speaking preschool. I spent months there telling elaborate stories in English. It never occurred to me that the children in Germany did not speak my language.

I needed an interpreter.

Marriage. It sounds so familiar and easy. Since the first couple, humans have been freely entering into marriage. I dreamed of becoming a wife from the time I was a little girl and eagerly greeted the day I first engaged in marriage. I have spent years hearing my spouse express needs that I simply can't understand. We do not speak the same language.

I need an interpreter.

Parenting. Now that's something that should come natural. My children were born from within me. Surely four little female beings who bear my DNA will speak my language. The longer I parent, the more I realize I can never understand the depths of my daughter's hearts.

I need an interpreter.

Are you like me? Do you sometimes wish you could just hit the "translate" button in life and gain the understanding you desire? Do you long to connect with your friends and loved ones at a deeper level? We need an interpreter. We cannot on our own understand the words and actions of others.

Our interpreter is grace.

Angry words filtered through grace lose their sting.
Tides of emotion sifted by grace land on peaceful shores.
Unmet needs shaded by grace come to light.

Today I will not listen alone. Instead I will invite Grace to hear with me words expressed and withheld. I will ask Him to see with me actions understood and mysterious. He will be my interpreter. He sees what is blind to my eye and hears what is deaf to my ear. Life Interpreted.

Dropped

2012-01-16T12:31:00.000-06:00

Hayleigh looks most at home when she's six feet in the air. She's a flyer on her middle school cheer squad. At a recent practice, her trip to the top reached an abrupt end with a drop. Her ankle rolled and a fracture in the growth plate resulted.

Being dropped always results in pain.

Papers served at the front door and signal the end of your marriage.

A friend who suddenly stops returning your call.

The pink slip that shows up on your desk.

Have you experienced the pain of a drop? I have. My insides rocked as my heart rolled in waves of pain.

Hayleigh's break was repaired easily with a boot and the help of a trusted orthopaedic but some drops require help from a different Source. When we find ourselves crumpled at the bottom, we need to look up.

There we see Hope.

There we find Help.

As we drop, we fall into the arms of the Great Physician.

I'd Rather Be Righteous Than Right

2012-01-11T08:25:00.000-06:00

The Lord rewards every man for his righteousness and faithfulness.

1 Samuel 26:23

Occasionally my teenagers want help with their math homework. I try not to act too excited but secretly I'm doing the happy dance. There is something so gratifying to me about a good Algebra problem. A few substitutions and manipulations then...voila you get the right answer. I just LOVE it when I'm right!

Truth be told I like to be right in other areas of my life as well.

Like when I share droplets of wisdom with my husband that he rejects but they turn out to be pearls.

Or when I offer my best mommy warning just prior to my kids disobeying and reaping the natural consequence.

This morning I wonder though do I really want to be right or do I want to be righteous.

I would rather honor my husband with my actions and words than win an argument.

I delight when I see obedience in my children so much more than saying, "I told you so."

To be righteous is to have a right standing with God and men. It is cultivating the long-term yield instead of close relationship instead of the short-term satisfaction of "right". Today I choose to righteous instead of right.

Contentment Isn't About Content

2012-01-06T11:19:00.000-06:00

If they obey and serve Him they will spend their years in contentment.

Job 36:11

"Mommy, when I grow up I want to have four daughters. I want them to be named Hannah, Hayleigh, Clara and Carynne just like us."

Carynne has the gift of contentment. She rarely asks for material possessions and when she does make a request it's for something she wants when "she's grown up like a mom." She can't envision a life better than the one she is living right now.

Can I say I feel the same way with total sincerity? Some days but many times not. I let my heart wander and consider what I have not instead of praising God for what I have.

In Job 39:11, God reveals the formula for contentment is to serve and obey God. Contentment isn't about the content of my life but my response to that content. Obedience and service are two things Carynne knows well. She is the first child to cry when caught in wrongdoing. Punishment is rarely necessary because she has a naturally repentant heart. She wants desperately to obey.

She also serves from a heart filled with kindness. Just last night she rubbed my hand with the intensity of a professional masseuse. This is quite a feat for fingers just four years old. She chose to serve her mommy and give a gift uniquely hers - an act of service.

Because I want to experience true contentment, I want 2012 to be packed with ordinary day filled with opportunities for obedience and service. Today, I say, "God, when I grow up I want to marry Scott Milholland and have daughters named Hannah, Hayleigh, Clara and Carynne. I want to come home to messy stairs and dirty dishes. I want to be overscheduled and overloved. I want to spend too many hours in the carpool line and too few hours at the salon. I want exactly what I have right now. I am content."

Won't you join me today and celebrate the ordinary life you're living? The gift of contentment is sure to follow.

Stolen Moments

2012-01-04T07:11:00.000-06:00

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark,

Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place,

where he prayed.

Mark 1:35

There are some gifts that touch your heart in the hidden, deep places. I received one of those this year for Christmas - time with my husband. We held hands over Asian cuisine. We jogged the lazy path of a scenic river. We soaked in stolen moments one touch, kiss and sentence at a time.

As these stolen moments reside in my heart, my mouth is less grumpy, my spirit less critical, my soul more grateful.

In these first few days of the new year, I haven't been thinking about a new health regimen. I don't long to reorganize my house. I want to stuff my heart full of stolen moments with God.

Yes I still want to read my Bible each day.
Yes I want to maintain a prayer list.
Yes I desire to continue to commit God's word to memory.

But what I most want is to capture stolen moments with Him - spontaneous words of prayer, gentle brushes of His presence in the ordinary of life and unexpected glimpses of His work.

In 2012 let's steal away with God together.

Passing the Hat

2011-12-30T16:57:00.000-06:00

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Matthew 6:21

How could I be so attached to a hat? My yoke was one prong materialism and the other sentimentality. I treasured my turquoise blue running cap because my family had given it to me for Christmas. I loved it because it had “Under Armour” stamped on the front and so few of my earthly goods have such a prestigious label.

The second reason sounds superficial even to my own ear but yet I know it’s honest.

I was jogging along the Austin riverfront with my sweetie beside me. We chatted easily as married couples do when dialogue is unfettered by interruptions of children and cell phones. Midstride I heard the words of a passerby.

“I wish I’d worn a hat.”

The nudge in my heart was immediate, “Give her yours, Shannon.”

The idea was preposterous. The words passed my lips almost as a surprise even to me, “We have to turn around, Scott. I know it’s crazy but I’m giving a lady my hat.”

We jogged faster. The distance closed. What do you say to a complete stranger who didn’t even ask you for a hat?

“Excuse me, ma’am, I overheard you say you wished you’d worn a hat. I’d like you to have mine.”

No I didn’t change her life today. She was a well-dressed woman who had absolutely no need for my hat. The life altered in the exchange wasn’t hers; it was mine.

I muttered, “God bless you,” as we turned back the way we’d came. I loosened the grip on an earthly treasure and let God decide the fate of my hat. Indeed a life was blessed today but it wasn’t hers; it was mine.

I wonder about you. Is there a treasure you’re holding – time, routine or even money that would bless you more if unloosed? God passes the hat. The question is will we be willing to pass ours?

Hidden Treasure

2011-12-27T10:48:00.000-06:00

She sat sideways in the leather chair while snowflakes danced down her legs over the armrest. Hurricane Christmas has littered her with presents big and small. One gift remained under the tree which bore the same name as her new Nike iD shoes - Hannah.

As the wrapping floated to the floor, another wrapped box appeared inside. Nested one inside the other, there was four boxes in all. The final package fit inside her hands. Somehow this made its' paper more difficult to tear.

Trembling hands opened the velvet case inside and out tumbled her James Avery charm bracelet, a treasure from her thirteenth birthday, misplaced in 2010.

The best gift was the one she'd had all along.

I wonder about us. Did we unwrap the very best gift this Christmas - the one we've had all along?

Hannah's bracelet had been close all these months - in the middle compartment of my car. We had opened that space hundreds of times but kept overlooking the treasure within.

I do that sometimes. I look at the outside things like circumstances, annoyances and inconvenience and overlook the treasure within.

The hidden joy is pressing closer to Christ in the midst of my difficulty. It's the gift I've had all along. Sometimes I just forget to take it out of the package.

Waiting on Jesus

2011-12-23T08:53:00.000-06:00

At that time in Jerusalem there was a man Simeon. He was waiting for the Messiah.

Luke 2:25

Oh Lord how many years will you tarry? My longing heart is aged beyond my body. My shoulders drag as the decades melt one into the next.

I want to see you, Lord.

You have shown yourself faithful to my people. You promised our father, Abraham. You delivered our leader, Moses. You favored our king, David. But will you be faithful to me?

I want to see you, Lord.

As if snatching the words from my lips, You appear. You come into the temple not on the back of a stallion but in the arms of a peasant girl.

I see you, Lord.

And I know. You are Jehovah El Roi, the God who Sees. You. See. Me.

Can This Be?

2011-12-21T06:50:00.001-06:00

I am absolutely thrilled to feature the work of my dear friend Patti Hazlett today. Patti is the kind of person who brings energy with her when she graces a room. Hope and vitality echo in her heart and her writing. I know you will love this post as much as I do and want to visit her blog many times to come.

by Patti Hazlett

She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus

because he will save his people from their sins.

Matthew 1:21.

Oh God, can this really be true?

They have been gone for so long. Bethlehem is a lengthy journey and Mary was nearly ready to give birth. My heart strains to know if they are well. Even more, it yearns to know if this could really be?

Everything rational in me says it cannot be true. Yet, everything in the Scriptures points to it being real. My son. Joseph. It is certain he is of royal lineage, a direct descendant of King David himself. His father, Jacob, and I have raised him to honor God and live his life with integrity. He has grown into a God-honoring, humble man.

When he came to us, telling us of Mary’s pregnancy, we were stunned. Out of love and respect for Mary and her family, Joseph decided to quietly walk away from their engagement. Of course, we supported his decision. But then, he spoke of a dream. A dream in which he was visited by an angel of the Lord. The angel, he said, told him not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife. That the baby should be named Jesus, because he will save the world! Dare we believe this could be the time? What if it is!?

The Scriptures have been part of our lives for generations. We know what they predict. The prophet Isaiah foretold of a coming King. One who would be born of a virgin. Born to reign from David’s throne. Born to save the world. It does seem to fit. Oh, do I dare believe it?

Lord, please calm my anxious heart!

Peace. Yes, peace. That’s what I feel now. As if what I have prayed for really is true! My heart is calm and I have a sense that yes, the baby Mary is about to give birth to truly is the Savior we have waited for for so very long!

With everything inside me, Lord, now I do believe. You have shown me that this really is true. Oh, Father, we are unworthy and yet humbled by your grace and mercy to allow us to watch over the Savior of the world.

My son. The earthly father of the King of Kings. Our grandson. He will be the Grand Son.

Praise be to God!
___________________________

Patti Hazlett is a writer whose blog devotionals have struck a chord with her readers. Her ability to look at life through what she calls her “Jesus filter” has taught many life lessons and practical Biblical application. A later-in-life Christian, Hazlett struggled for years to connect the dots between her life and a life as someone who was saved. Her journey took a radical turn after a cancer scare and a heartfelt, honest cry out to God to use her for more than the life she was living. Today, she approaches every day with the prayer to maximize each moment for His glory.

You can connect with Patti on Twitter, Facebook and her blog.

Barren No More

2011-12-16T06:00:00.001-06:00

I have the incredible privilege of introducing you to one of my favorite Christian authors. Tamera Alexander will steal your heart away in the first page with her inventive and engaging writing style. Her thievery as an author is due to her heart long ago being stolen by God. After you read her post, you will definitely want to order her latest book, A Lasting Impression. Please help me welcome Tamera!

by Tamera Alexander

About a month ago, Shannon asked if I’d be interested in writing about how a certain Biblical character speaks into my own personal Christmas story this year. She gave me a brief list of names and my eye went to one.

Elizabeth.

The account about her in Luke chapter one is brief, but revealing. She was older in life, barren, unable to conceive, and bore the shame of that unwanted distinction for years and years. Yet she enjoyed the honor of giving birth to the forerunner of our Savior at so untimely a place in her life. She was called righteous, along with her husband Zachariah, and was one of the first women to be noted as being "filled with the Holy Spirit."

She was careful to obey all of the Lord’s commandments and regulations. So therefore, she was familiar with them. After all, in order to keep a law you first have to know and understand it. I wonder if she was familiar with the scroll of Isaiah? And if she ever lingered over this verse and prayed even more earnestly for her son, John, as he grew. “The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”

When I read that verse with the heart of a mother for her son, the words wilderness and desert stand out to me. And not in a good way. Because what mother wants her son to be in a wilderness? Or in a desert? Having been barren for the majority of her life, Elizabeth knew what being alone felt like. She would never have wished that for her child. Yet she was faithful to the task God called her to fulfill. To be mother to the one who would prepare the way for Immanuel––God with us.

God also used Elizabeth in a mighty way to confirm His plans in Mary's life. "You are blessed," Elizabeth said to Mary, "because you believed that the Lord would do what he said." She spoke affirmation and encouragement in the face of a nearly impossible road ahead for Mary, and helped her to keep believing in God's sovereign hand. Which then Mary responds with the ever popular "Magnificat: Mary's song of praise."

In the hustle and bustle of Christmas this year, I’m holding the memory of Elizabeth close, and am reminded that God will send people into our lives who are hungry for Him, who need a word of encouragement to follow Him, or maybe need a verbal hug to keep walking through the wilderness or desert that He's intentionally leading them through. Who knows…perhaps it was Elizabeth's timely word of encouragement that led Mary to the place where she could sing her song of praise.

Hear what Elizabeth’s life and legacy says to you and me: God is trustworthy, even in the barren places. His timing is impeccable. And He always keeps His promises. Always.

Blessings this Christmas and in the coming New Year,

Tamera

__________________________

Tamera Alexander is the best-selling author of Rekindled, Revealed and Remembered, the critically acclaimed Fountain Creek Chronicles historical series with Bethany House Publishers, along withFrom a Distance, Beyond This Moment, and Within My Heart (Timber Ridge Reflections series). Her historical romances—including The Inheritance with Thomas Nelson—penned in her style with deeply drawn characters, thought-provoking plots, and poignant prose have earned her devoted readers—and multiple industry awards.

After living in Colorado for seventeen years, Tamera has returned to her Southern roots. She and her husband now make their home in Nashville with Tamera's father, Doug. They enjoy life there with Joe and Tamera's two adult children, and Jack, a precious—and precocious—silky terrier.

Connect with Tamera online at her website, blog, on Facebook and on Twitter.

You Better Watch Out...

2011-12-14T08:47:00.000-06:00

Blessed are those who listen to me,

watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway.

Proverbs 8:34

Her eyes dance when she says his name. Though they've been married for decades, my friend Kim recently revealed to me that her sweetheart has never come home from work to find her asleep. This might not sound like an extraordinary feat unless you know her husband's work keeps him out until midnight or later on a routine basis.

She watches for him.

On our cable there is an entire channel dedicated to waiting for Santa. Jovial games, heart-stirring movies and fun music share the screen with a large countdown to Christmas clock. On Christmas Eve a radar will appear with which kids can track Santa's journey around the world.

Children watch for Santa.

What will my heart watch for this Christmas?

Will my heart run to the temporary fulfillment of a perfectly baked cookie, a super bargain or a front row parking space? Will my heart linger and look for opportunities to whisper my love for my man and snuggle my daughters?

This year I want to live face pressed against the glass in breathless excitement to watch for the One who fills the stocking of my heart. I pray that He would fill more of my heart so that one day my husband and children could say they knew my heart waited for them. Come Lord Jesus. Come.

My Hope

2011-12-12T09:43:00.000-06:00

Today I have the joy of bringing you another exceptional guest post. This one is written from the perspective of the innkeeper's wife and it touches my heart in a place that is real and raw. I know you will love it as much as I do and will want to read so much more of her heart here.

by Heatherly Sylvia

I hear them whispering.

I don't dare join them- in case they are right- but it is hard not to hear their gossip, their questions, their accusations.

"...only pledged, not married..."

"...angels spoke.... that's likely"

"...should be ashamed..."

"...surprised he stayed..."

When she left town to visit relatives – suddenly and without a word – we all wondered, but it's not unusual to visit one's cousins. Then the whispers traveled back towards town, "Elizabeth is with child."

We were shocked beyond speech – it was rumored Zechariah was too, if the gossips could be believed.

It seemed unlikely that the story was true. Whispers of Abraham and his Sarah echoed, truth entwined with the obvious fabrication of wives and mothers with nothing better to do than to speak of others'

concerns as if they were a children's tale. And then...

It became apparent rather quickly that Elizabeth's rumored blessing was not going to be the biggest news on market day anymore...

As we have traveled these dusty roads toward David's city, ruled by Caesar and the census call, I've struggled – wanting ask her, wanting to amble beside her, as we used to in our childhood, at our mothers' sides at the market, in the fields; wishing I could share my news without the fear of the gossips that travel the same path, the same pace:

~~"Mary, I believe you."~~

~~"Mary, I'm scared for you."~~

~~"Mary, does Joseph really believe you?"~~

"Mary, I am pregnant, too. I am scared. I feel ill. The way is so long, the travel bothersome, the smells overwhelming, the food unpalatable...

"Mary, how do you look so peaceful?"

I am afraid to ask. Although their contract has been signed and Joseph calls her wife, the gossips continue. They whisper of angel's words and YHWH's blessing.

Why isn't she terrified?

What does she know that we do not?

Where does her hope lie?

Where can I get even a piece of the peace she has?

As she rubs her large belly, when no one is looking, Joseph lays his hand on hers. They share a secret smile and I feel the intruder as a moment passes between them. There is a spark I've never felt, a joy I've never known.

Where does their hope lie?

When news comes days later, shared over the rattle of carts and the braying of donkeys, I learn that her Hope was laid in a feeding trough.

I ignore my fear, and among the shepherds and animals I gain the strength to ask her.

Her tired smile is serene, her eyes sparkle with joy,

"My hope is in YHWH. My Hope is YHWH."

_______________________________

Heatherly Lane Sylvia is a mom, wife, homeschooler, speaker, aspiring writer, and apprentice grace-giver. Her greatest desire is to live a life following after God with abandon, and she hopes to be a blessing to as many people as she can while she figures out exactly how to do that. Het is passionate, loud, addicted to books, and loves her friends, old and new. She adores the blogosphere and would love to “meet” you there. She’s also pretty sure that blog comments and tweets are her love language. Check out her blog A Pinkdaisy Life or follow her on Twitter @Pinkdaisyjane

My Gift to You This Year

2011-12-08T14:07:00.000-06:00

Sweet Friends,

I so loved praying with each of you through the Fall. As a special holiday gift, I have packaged those prayers into a FREE eBook you can download from my website.

Please know you are loved, treasured and prayed for.

This, dear ones, is for you:

(Click the book cover above or here to download.)

Merry Christmas one and all!

A True Star

2011-12-07T06:00:00.002-06:00

Today we continue with our Christmas series with a special look at the wisemen written by one of the wisest and funniest guys I know. I am so honored to have my friend and Southern Writers Magazine coworker, Gary Fearon here with me today. He makes work seem like play and today you'll get a little glimpse into why Southern Writers Magazine is so incredible.

by Gary Fearon

Hundreds of years from now, by the 21^st century, astronomy and astrology will be considered totally separate disciplines. But for me, Balthasar, they are one and the same. I study the stars because I am a man of science, seeking the secrets of life, and my devotion to the God who made me causes me to look to the heavens for those answers.

From sacred scripture we had been told, “There shall come a star out of Jacob,” heralding the arrival of our long-awaited Savior. As an educated stargazer I was one of the fortunate few to notice the appearance of this celestial phenomenon, a star which followed a distinctly different course than its fellow travelers. I consider myself even more fortunate to have understood its importance to mankind.

Had I not been completely convinced that this was indeed the star of prophecy, I would not have undertaken a journey that involved traversing hundreds of miles from my home in Persia. Of course, at the outset, neither I nor my traveling companions Gaspar and Melchior – with whom I had closely conferred regarding all of this – knew exactly where we would end up. We only knew the star was leading us to the west.

When we reached Jerusalem and spoke of the star we’d been following for months, some rebuked us, having seen nothing unusual in the night sky. Indeed, it was no longer visible to us either. But our inquiries caught the ear of King Herod, who summoned us to his palace. Hoping he would be the one to point us to the Child, we were surprised when he asked us if we had found Him.

We only knew we were getting close, and when Herod revealed that his priests had identified from prophecy that we needed to go to Bethlehem, only six miles away, we were soon on our way there, with instructions to return to Jerusalem with the Child’s exact location.

We didn’t get a good feeling from Herod, a demanding ruler whose authority would be undermined by the Messiah, and we feared he’d make some very poor choices, so we never went back. But Herod was right about Bethlehem. Our guiding star reappeared and hovered over a very humble dwelling, no proper place for a child from Heaven. But when we saw Him, we knew we were in the presence of the Son of God.

The love that surrounded Him and the peace that emanated from Him were unmistakable. Gaspar, Melchior and I were so overwhelmed with His majesty that we could only fall to our knees. We felt our very souls overflowing with praise and thanksgiving at the realization that our Savior had come. I wouldn’t take all the gold, frankincense and myrrh in the world in exchange for that moment.

Meeting my Redeemer face to face was life-changing, and from that point on, I didn’t need to go searching for all the answers. I had found Him.

Hundreds of years from now, I pray that my fellow believers will experience that same sense of purpose, peace and love as they follow Him, to wherever He may guide them.

Star of wonder, star of light,

Star with royal beauty bright,

Westward leading, still proceeding,

Guide us to thy perfect light.

________________________________

A veteran broadcaster, video and audio producer, Gary Fearon is the Creative Director for Southern Writers Magazine. In that position, his multiple roles include writing, interviewing, editing, graphic design and making sure Shannon Milholland doesn’t drink too much coffee. His additional talents include songwriting, cartooning, and making popcorn almost as good as at the movies.

Gary presents perspectives on creativity every Tuesday on Suite T, the Southern Writers blog. He wishes you a Christmas full of blessings and a joy-filled 2012.