So, how are those resolutions coming along?

Here we are, 31 days into the new year. The end of January is upon us and February looms, with its promises of love.

As my studying of Ecclesiastes continues and I combine it with my life verses for this year, the correlation is plain to see. You know how so many of us make resolutions at the beginning of each new year and before much time has passed, so have our best-laid schemes to keep them? Ahh, we humans are so fallible, aren't we?

"Wilt thou be made whole?" was the question Jesus asked the impotent man and the response of "I have no man..." still has me pondering on so many aspects of this verse from John 5:6. For instance, yesterday while Steve and I were on our way for a day of fun, we were discussing what we'd learned from the "Armor of God" study that we just completed. As we talked about the pieces of armor we felt most in need of, I reflected that the one about the shoes was pertinent in my life. For you see, Priscilla Shirer had asked us to name one thing specifically to focus on as we geared up to grow more deeply in Christ.

Without going into details, my "battle" was sadly one that involves my church. No surprise here but it is not perfect. There are people and beliefs and misunderstandings that lead to silly skirmishes that nonetheless have the potential--not the power, oh no--to wreak havoc amongst the members there. As Steve and I talked about the impotent man rising up to walk, I remarked that his feet must have been pretty unsteady. Lying around for 38 years will do that. I compared this to my trial with a certain issue and find that, yep: no matter what my resolutions, my resolve, and my preparations, the battle is still raging and I am still so desperately in need of a Savior to fight for me. On my own, I am too wobbly and need Jesus to tell me what to do each step of the way.

And that's the kicker, folks. The battle is not mine. It's not the church incidents that go on. It's the spiritual forces in higher places that are warring with one another. Satan wants to use us to tear down The Church and he's quite successful--but only if we foolishly think that somehow we can win this war on our own. He wants to keep us off balance, tottering on the edge of madness, and he mostly wants us to have no joy--especially in the church.

So although my feet are often unsteady and as I continue to try to move forward in spite of the wickedness going on all around me, I will also continue to rely on the Lord's direction, His commands, and His Truths to keep me focused, on task, and viable in this fight. "I have no man" is true and there are many things I must do on my own.  Thankfully though, I do have a Savior!Though the skirmishes are still going to happen, the battle is not mine.

Let's pray!

Dear Father, as the end of January is upon me, my reflections show some progresses made but also some failures in my attempts to rise and walk. Lord? Sometimes it seems that for each step forward, there are two back but as long as I am still standing, still steadying, and still seeking You there will be success. Victory in Jesus is a surety and as my struggles continue, when seen from Your eyes and Your heart, along with a great dose of wisdom from Your Word, I am confident that I will win. Maybe I'll have some extra scratches and bruises, but we both know that I am a lover not a fighter. I'll leave that to You, Jesus. Use my weaknesses to illuminate Your strengths is my prayer today. Amen.

Paying the Piper

I've been struggling lately with my blog writing.  Not that I don't have much to share but...but maybe I share too much?  I've been studying the Book of Ecclesiastes these past few days and like Solomon, I wonder if it all just isn't vanity.  Sigh.  I watch my "likes" increase each week but...but my "unlikes" have not allowed my page to grow in readership as high as my hopes for it to have risen. .  Like the old adage of taking two steps forward to only fall three steps further behind, I am not seeing the growth of my works, or at least not according to my Facebook statistics.  This troubles me and in some ways makes me feel defeated.

So I've been pondering.  Maybe it's time to stop writing?  Maybe my popularity (such as it is) has waned and it's time to move on to other venues?  Maybe I should keep my thoughts and wanderings to myself and only share when I feel like 'this one' is a really good one?  Maybe no one out there is as messed up as I am and the world doesn't need Wandering Through The Bible--or, if they do, maybe not now.  After all, how many times have I read something written Lord knows when and it's been effective or struck some chord within me?  Maybe I should just let my words sit and hope that one day some soul who needs to read them will happen across them?  I mean, seriously, do I not get notes from folks who found a certain blog I wrote helpful to them--even though it may have been written months or even years ago?

I know I shouldn't care, shouldn't be bothered by this indifference I perceive by the world.  The devil sure tries to get me to be in constant flux with it!  I tell myself and my husband tells me that God will lead to my blog whom He chooses to.  Am I writing it for Him or for the world?  Whom am I to try to assist anyways when I myself am in need of so much wisdom?

So, today I came up with three thoughts and if you are one of the ones who actually is still reading my blog, please respond.  Ready?

1. Are my blogs helping?  Are they useful in your spiritual walk?  Do they compel you to study further things you have believed all of your life but now find yourself needing more clarity about?
2. Are my blogs healing?  Does my sharing of my pains, my downfalls, my finally being able to forgive so many for the hurts that have been caused in my life encourage you to let go of your haunts as well?
3. Lastly, are my blogs hindering you?  The fact that I post so often:  does this cause you to just click on "unfollow" or "unlike" so that they don't appear in your newsfeed?  Is my honesty and continuous learning that I feel so compelled to share getting on your nerves?  

I don't want to be a hindrance.  I don't want to be annoying you and the truth of the matter is that no one is making you read these antics of mine.  No one is standing with a weapon over your heads forcing you to see what mess ol' Stef has gotten herself into this time and read of how even though the Lord has delivered her from it before, she still needs a refresher course.  

All in all, I cannot stop writing.  It's in my blood and it must be purged often or I will just implode.  Nobody wants to see that happen.  So, I leave my writings in your hands.  If you like them, great.  If you don't or can only take me in small doses, that's cool too.  I'm really trying to be useful but I am not the teacher.  Jesus is and He is Whom I am continually learning from.  Sometimes the stuff He teaches me is just too good to keep to myself so...when that happens, Wandering Through The Bible will be here for you.  Most importantly though, God is here in you, the hope of glory, the only One Who can make your wrongs right.  Unfollow me if you must, but please stay on track with Christ.

Could you please pass the Stef?

Good morning!  I have a question for you.  What kind of person are you?  Do you brighten up the room when you walk in with your sunny disposition?  Do you have the knack for making others feel welcome with your outgoing personality?  Are you the prankster--always playing jokes to make those around you loosen up?  Or, are you the salt, the one who adds the flavor, the one who makes things tastier, more enjoyable, and adds just the right touch?  

Salt does that you know.  Imagine a nice bowl of popcorn but wait!  Someone forgot to put the seasoning on it!  This near-perfect food resembles something that tastes more like one imagines styrofoam would.  Obviously if salt wasn't added to pork, our Country Ham would just be...well, it would not be good.  I daresay Bojangles wouldn't sell as many biscuits!  Many like to add a sprinkle or two of salt to their vegetables, to bring out the natural flavor and enhance it with just a smidge of this delightful seasoning.  

It's one of the things I wonder about:  how would the world survive without salt?  It's so cheap to buy yet I cannot imagine my life without it.  What if the seasoning brokers decided to hold it hostage and would only allow purchases of it for much more than the price we pay now?  How much would you be willing to fork out for this flavoring that the doctors try to tell us we don't need so much of anyways?

In Matthew 5:13, Jesus told us:  

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?  It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men.

 Well, I don't know about you, but I surely don't want to be classified as such! Let's pray!

"Good for nothing" Lord?  May it not be!  No no:  instead, make me the one who adds that special something to the meals of this world.  You know, Lord, the kind who brings out what's already there, inside, yet maybe just needs a little prodding, a little shake of Stef, to make it better than before.  Make me, Lord, that condiment that folks don't want to be without.  'Please pass the Stef' they will say, Father, when there just seems to be a little something missing.  Use me, I ask, to not be trampled beneath folks as they search for other ways of making things go down easier but to be the first thing they reach for, that they take off of their shelves, as the world needs sometimes a little more seasoning to make the cares of this world easier to swallow.  

May it be so is my prayer this morning.  In the name of Jesus I ask it.  Amen.

PS
Even Jimmy Buffett is on the lookout for salt.  Remember his song "Margaritaville" about how he's looking for his lost shaker of it?  It's become such an iconic song that when that line is sung, the audience responds by crying  "Salt!  Salt!  Salt" after he croons it out.  They are searching.  Jimmy is still reminding us of his need for it.  Be the salt, friends.  Be the salt.

Wanderings of a Wanderer

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.   

I Corinthians 13:11

 "If you're not on the edge, you're taking up too much space."  My husband states this often.  He likes to think of himself as a rebel, as one who colors outside of the lines, as one who doesn't follow.  No, he's not a leader; not at all.  He just is one who doesn't like to be bound by rules and regulations, although I assure you he is a law-abiding, God-fearing man.  It's just...

It's just that inside, he is human.  He has his own mind, his own dreams, his own thoughts of how things should be done.  Men in the field:  women in the kitchen.  Barbaric?  Caveman?  Nah; just your typical good ol' Southern boy.  And why I am droning on about him I don't know except that my fingers seem to have a mind of their own this morning and hopefully they will lead us to the point I am trying to make.  I too have my own dreams.

Remember the impotent man I've been writing about all month?  Jesus told him to take up his bed and walk.  He didn't tell him to stand:  He told him to walk.  Have you ever watched a toddler in the beginning stages of learning this phase of life?  He'll stand up on his wobbly little legs, think he's ready to go, and then plop!  Down he goes.  Those first few times, he just stays down but...but he keeps on moving, crawling towards his goal, until the next time he's on his feet and another attempt is made, hopefully with more success.  Finally, one day without any fanfare, the kid is walking and though he still stumbles, the occurrences are fewer and further than before.

This morning before he left for work, Steve and I read another chapter from Max Lucado's book When God Speaks Your Name.  Entitled "Healthy Habits," Max wrote of the four habits in the Bible that we are to implement in our lives if we are to become spiritually mature adults.  We can't stay kids forever.  Max wrote about growing in grace, growing up in Christ, and leaving behind the elementary teachings and going on to ministry.  You can click on the link and read it; it's quite good.  But here's what I want to discuss:  growing up.

We can't stay babies forever.  See this pic of me?  I was in the "Terrible Twos" stage and if you look at my face, you can see the pouting lips, the near-defiant stare, the fingers poised to get into something that they didn't belong in.  While I don't remember being this young, I obviously was.  But here's what I wonder most when I reflect on this photograph:  have I changed?  Look with me, beyond the superficial for a moment.  Am I still a pouter?  Shamefacedly I admit, yes.  Do I still glare when others dare to defy my wishes?  Uh, guilty.  And those hands:  are they still looking to get into mischief?  Wellll, maybe not as much.  I do try to use them to further the good news of Christ.  Sometimes.  Most of the time.

Hmn.

As I close this blog, I want to challenge you--and myself--to examine once again whom we are in Christ.  Are we still babies who can barely do anything for ourselves and must continually be fed, be led around by our fingers so that we have someone to hold onto, and be told constantly what to do because we don't know how to fend for ourselves?  Or...are we growing?  Can we pick up and put away our toys without being told that it's time to get to work?  Can we chew on some steak instead of just eating processed food that doesn't require us sinking our teeth into?  Can we stand for what is right and then take the next steps into defending our stance?  

My closing prayer with Steve this morning went something like as follows.  Is it true for you too?

Dear Lord, as I think about being a child who needs to embrace adulthood, it's kind of like when I go to the ocean.  At first, my tootsies want to just dip into the receding waves to get a feel for the ocean's temperature.  Just a small taste.  It's okay to get my feet wet, but to get knee deep into this unknown source?  Hmn.  Not so sure.  But then, Lord, when I take the plunge (so to speak) and let the waves crash into my back as I am exhilarated and stunned at the same time, the feeling of the waves causes sensations like none other. I want more but also feel fear as the powerful water invites, challenges, and urges me forward.  I can't swim.  Do I dare to proceed further into uncharted territories?  

Lord?  As I continue growing in Your Word, I realize that there are bigger things out there for me, new experiences to try, and further paths to explore.  I'm not a baby anymore and You have grown and equipped me to walk: to carry my bed and to walk.  I can't just sit on the sidelines, Father, if I am to be all I can be.  Help me to rise is my prayer, asked in the name of Jesus.  Amen.

What a Woman!

Did you ever hear that old Steve Wariner song “(It’s Not What I Did,) It’s What I Didn’t Do” from back in the ‘80s?  Today as I reflect on a woman whom I love dearly, I’d like to tell you a few things Betty McAlister Lewis didn’t do.

From our first meeting on February 28, 2013, Betty did not ignore me.  I had attended a Bible Study Class at Mountain Grove Baptist Church and she was quick to welcome me and follow up with me.  We became Facebook Friends immediately and since that day, there has not been a week that has gone by that Betty has not reached out to me in some way.

Another thing Betty didn’t do was fail to praise me.  Whether she commented on my Wandering Through The Bible Blogs (she was my number two supporter!) with her own anecdotes or encouraging words of empathy, Betty never ceased to amaze me with her love and grace as I muddle my way through my experiences with Christ and with life.

Thirdly, Betty didn’t hound me.  When I no longer attended the Bible Study, she still checked on me.  She questioned whether or not I was in another, prayed for me to find a church that I could grow in and be a part of, and genuinely cared about my personal growth in Christ.

Betty didn’t hold back.  When she believed in something or someone, she believed with all of her might.  If you were wrong, she called you on it--with love always and with strength in her convictions.

Betty didn’t conceal her faith.  Her love for Jesus was noticed nearly every day on her Facebook page.  Whether it was a Bible verse, a special meme created, or just some words of encouragement to her family and friends, Betty shined.  She didn’t ever tell me to stop smiling.  Rather, she remarked each time she saw me on how beautiful my smile was, how it lit up the room, and how she missed me when I wasn’t around.

Betty didn’t live a perfect life.  Betty didn’t always have the faith she has now.  Betty didn’t always love without restraint.  Betty didn’t tell people she was perfect nor better than they were.  Betty didn’t do a lot of negative things that so many of us do daily.  Instead, what Betty did--and did well--was love.  With her heart.  With her actions.  With her faith.  She didn’t turn her back when the going got tough but pushed forward with determination to make situations better.  

Today, I celebrate Betty.  This beautiful lady that God placed in my life at a time when I needed loved so much.  This wonderful woman He gave to me as a precursor, as an example of how I am to live--boldly and without regrets.  Because of Betty, my heart is more tender, more loving, more accepting, and fuller.  I love this woman and I thank God for allowing our paths to not only cross but to allow us to walk on together.  

Working 9 to 5

Welcome to my world.  This is so typical of me as I struggle along, trying to get myself in gear, and do the things that are necessary in my life if I am to take up my bed and walk.  I found this comic strip, liked it, and kept on reading more of them.  Then I sent one to a writer friend and then...then I realized I had to stop.  

Last night, Steve and I watched the fourth video in the "Armor of God" study.  It dealt with the shoes of peace.  Here's the best part:  

Peace is not only your guard, it is also your guide. You’ve got shoes so you can move forward.  

Those last two words really got my attention and they are what I wish to discuss briefly (yes, I will keep it short today!).

For a while now I have been putting off going back into the workforce.  My reasons are my own but the truth of the matter, the heart of the matter is, that it is time.  As I consider all of the moments I have misused these past few years, I hardly think that writing blogs is my sole purpose in life.  While my hope is that they have been beneficial to those who read them or that may one day come across them in due season, unfortunately they aren't sought after by some publishing company who is just knowing that they will be the next big thing and want to pay me oodles of money to write them, perfect them, and publish them for all the world to see.

So, it's time to dust off the old resume`.  It's time to put into practice the lessons learned and shared.  It's time to walk.  I can't just keep sitting still, letting the world go by, letting my own impotence keep me near a pool where I see others getting victory while I just lie and wait my turn.  It's my turn now and I've been commanded to pick up my bed and walk.  Jesus said to arise.  He asked if I wanted to be made whole.  I do.  And while I know that a job won't complete me, it is a step that I need to take to make me better, to make me less Stef-centered, and to put myself out there physically instead of just emotionally.

It's funny.  Last night as I was praying about this, I asked the Good Lord to put me in a place where I wouldn't fall in love with the folks I worked with.  Each place of employment I have been at, I have felt compelled to give my ears, my gifts, my heart to (most of) the ones I have been in contact with.  I didn't want that this time, I told the Lord.  I want to just have a job and it be just a job that I do and come home each night from without dwelling on it or the people whose paths have crossed mine.  I could almost hear Him silently chuckling as He reminded me that if I am to be more like Jesus, then I am to love.  Even when it hurts.  Even when it isn't reciprocated.  Even when it isn't asked for.  For God so loved and if He did, then I am to too.

Let's pray now!

Dear Father, as I take the plunge and dig up that old resume` and seek to reenter the workforce, I ask You to guide me to a place where my talents are used, where my brain is not on standby, and where I can grow in my walk with You.  I'm not sure where You will lead me but I am on guard and with You as my Guide, then I declare to move forward.  You know my path, Father, and my hand is clenched tightly into Yours as I make this effort.  It's hard because of my insecurities and such but You said when I am weak, You'd be strong.  Lead me, I pray, in the name of Jesus.  Amen.

Stones

I read a good devotion this morning by Max Lucado.  It dealt with the bag of stones we all carry around.  Stones from our past.  A whole collection of them that we don't always realize we have sacked up and yet we wonder why our loads sometimes seem so heavy.

What if, for today, we threw those stones into the River of Life?  What if we discarded them the way we feel we were discarded, neglected, or whatever sad feeling was invoked which made us carry those burdens of pain and hurt around needlessly?  What if we let the Water of the Word wash over them and smooth those rough places out?  What if we cast our cares on Him and let Him do the caring?  What if His Spirit truly can renew and revive us?  What if we stopped wondering "what if" and started believing "what is" instead?  

Let's pray!

Lord, my heart is heavy and my shoulders are sagging as I contemplate the burdens that I am carrying around.  I ask You this moment to relieve me of my heavy load and take it upon Yourself.  You said You would and today I claim that promise.  Care for me, today, Lord.  Care for the Bettys and the Brittanys and the ones I love that You love even more.  Hold and heal us is my prayer, asked fervently, Lord, for I cannot do this on my own.  Amen.

Here is the link to the devotion by Max:  Stronger in the Broken Places

My brain keeps telling me to do bad things

Those were the words one of my grandsons said last night, as he explained why he was so tired.  Oh how I can relate!

Instead of taking my time to focus on God and study His Word today, my attention got distracted by Pinterest.  Arrgghhh!  That site will have one dazzled, inspired, allured, and before you know it, several hours have passed and all of the plans made to be productive are now floundering about in my head as I think of all the things I could make, could learn how to do, and could share with others run haphazardly through my mind.

Distractions.  They surround us.  No matter how focused on a task, they come--uninvited, mind you--to keep one from doing what is right.  That's not to say they are telling us to do bad things but...But if truth be told, if they are preventing us from doing what is our lot in life, then methinks some self-discipline is in order.

In front of me, on the top of my window sill, are the whatevers of the Bible for me to be reminded of doing. 

While spending two or three hours on Pinterest isn't bad, it did keep me from fully focusing on Christ first.  First.  I could justify it and say that the things I was looking at were to further the gospel and fellowship amongst our sisters who join for Crafts Day once a month.  Right?  Couldn't I?  Maybe, had I done this second or even third after.  After putting Jesus first.  After spending some time doing something for Him rather than about Him.  After fellowshipping first with Him then I could perhaps somehow make these past hours have some value to them.  Then I could rationally and fully focus on those whatevers that are lovely, true, right, and so on.  But isn't Christ at the top of this list?  He should be.  He's supposed to be.

My brain keeps telling me to do bad things.  No wonder the kid was exhausted.  

Let's pray.

Lord, with head bowed low and mind tired, I come to You.  Not my first fruits and I wouldn't blame You a bit if you didn't accept my offering now.  You deserve so much more and my shame is great as I contemplate on the time I waste on worldly things when I could be walking with You.  I tell myself these things are done in Your name, for Your people, and for "good" reasons.  But the fact is, Father, that while that all may be true, I need to first sit at Your feet, to choose the better part as Mary did.  Sigh.  We both know I have more Martha in me than Mary.

As my day is halfway over, I purpose to focus on You with it first.  Right now.  May my brain tell me to do good things, Lord.  May my struggles end with the rest found in You is my prayer.  In the name of Jesus I ask for reconciliation with You.  Amen.

Paging Dr. Hardy. Dr. Steve Hardy: you're needed in emergency.

I used to--well, truthfully I sometimes still do--wish sometimes that I could be put into a medically-induced coma.  In my fantasy, I would be "put under" for the necessary amount of time that would be needed to "fix me."

The doctors would have a tough road ahead of them!  There's the issues of my aching muscles, my ever-popping-up skin cancers, my weight, my eyesight which is waning, my teeth that also could use some work, my hands with their pre-carpal tunnel syndrome, my frequent coughing attacks, my leaky bladder...

Too much information?  Yeah.  Okay.  I'll leave the rest to your imaginations.

I wondered though what would happen while I was comatose.  How much time would seriously be needed to make my body better, faster, stronger, more like The Six Million Dollar Man's or The Bionic Woman's?  Would I be able to still "hear" the voices of my loved ones that visited and be kept up-to-date with worldly occurrences?  Would my grandsons visit me at first, miss me bunches, or (gulp) forget about me completely?  Would my husband tire of working his long days and eventually only visit me on weekends?

Mostly though I wondered if God could come into my soul at this same time and give me a spiritual makeover.  My heart is in definite need of repair!  It needs strengthened, softened, and toughened at the same time.  My eyes need some rose-colored glasses put on them so that I might see the world through His eyes instead of my jaded ones (ha!  and you thought they were blue).  My ears need to be attuned so that I might hear His voice more easily and respond to the needs I hear rather than the cynicism that drowns out others' cries because of the lack of my listening skills.  My hands need to be opened so that I may give more.  My body needs to be devoted to Christ's demands and not those of the flesh that it tends to obey currently.

Do you get the picture, friends?  Any of you dare to confess you have thought about this too, about being made whole without putting any effort into it?  Just a few nips here, a tuck or two there, and voila`!  The new and improved super saint would be ready for the world!  No need for physical training, dieting, conditioning, and so on.  Nope.  Just go to sleep one day and when you are awakened, all these things will be added to you.

Sadly, it doesn't work that way.  Oh sure, like Stefan (our impotent man at the pool), many of us have lain around for innumerable years, waiting for our fairy godmother to come and wave her magic wand and perform her miracles.  I mean, why trouble ourselves to get out of this condition, right?  After all, surely if God wanted us to be better, He'd make us so.  He is the One with the power, right?  He is the Miracle Worker.  If we are really so bad, wouldn't He in all of His infinite knowledge know what we need and how to give it to us?  Couldn't He with just one thought--He wouldn't even have to touch us because His power is so great--He could make us whole.

In conclusion, to my knowledge, there is not a coma procedure to fix broken gals like me, to repair our worn parts, nor to heal our tattered souls.  However, there is a Saviour named Jesus Who is on stand-by, willing to create clean hearts in us, ready to renew right spirits within us, and ready to give us a new body in heaven that one day will be infirmity free.  Until then, though, sisters, we have to do our parts.  We have to accept that we are who got us into this shape and until we resign ourselves into finally believing and realizing that there are no magical cures, no quick fixes, and no fairy godmothers (or as Stefan said "no man to help me").  Though we often feel alone, He is there, with outstretched hands, looking for us on the horizon to make the first move so that He may run to us.  Are you ready to make that move?  Our physical and spiritual bodies await!

Let's pray!

As I once again blog to the choir, Lord, I still seem to find myself hesitating in making that move.  Even though I know there will be better things ahead, sometimes that scares me.  I like the fact that I know pretty much what to expect if I stay in the condition I am in.  I like knowing folks won't bother me for stuff when right now I have proven myself pretty useless.  Who needs them anyways, Lord?  When I make an attempt to be better, it is so often shot down and the rejection toll is high.  How much more can my heart stand?

What's that You say?  I came not to be served but to serve.

But Lord?  They are so needy!  They always are pulling and tugging and demanding and did I mention needy?!

Weren't you this way, Stef?  Aren't you still this way, Stef?  Yeah, you need an overhaul--physically and spiritually. Will You let me help you?  Do you want to be made whole?  I'm watching for you.  Will you come?  Will you rise and pick up your mat and walk?  I promise I will hold your hand!  It's there now.  Will you take it, child?

Lord, I don't want to walk away sorrowfully like the rich man who wouldn't give up his wealth.  My head knows Your way is better.  My heart knows Your truths.  My spirit is willing, oh it's so willing.  But my flesh, Lord?  It's battling me.  My mind is in a constant state of flux.  That which I would do I do not.  That which I wouldn't do, I do.  Like Paul, I need deliverance!  

Okay.  Deep sigh.  For today, for this moment, Lord Jesus, I will rise.  I will take Your hand.  Don't let me go!  Being steady on my feet is not something I am known for.  May my weaknesses and imperfections be made whole in You, is my prayer.

How Low Can You Go?

John 5:5-7 (NIV):  One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years.  When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, He asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” 

Excuses excuses.  Will they never stop?  I mean, seriously, it's been thirty-eight years, Stefan.  Surely after all of this time you knew how to position yourself for the best angle, the best spot, the best time for when the angel was coming.  I just can't help but wonder why you didn't try harder?  Year after year.  Decade after decade?  Sigh.  

As I pondered on these verses, the words "someone else goes down ahead of me" kept rolling around in my tiny little brain.  Someone else goes where?  Down.  Do you see it?

Someone else lowered him/herself.  Someone else bowed said self, humbled even, to get to the place of rescue.  Hmn.  

Still feel like you are too far gone to ever be assisted?  I think if you said "yes" then you might just be a little too full of yourself.  Too much pride is in you to take the necessary move to get on your knees before the Almighty One and ask for Him to heal you.  Ask for help?  You?  Me?  "I've been handling this on my own for __________ (fill in the blank) amount of years. No one helped me then and no one will help me now."

Well, aren't you just Miss Independent.  Shall we cue Kelly Clarkson?  Sorry, couldn't resist.  Well, I could but I didn't.  

You are right.  Again.  You have no man to help you.  It's completely and totally in your hands until you position yourself and realize that without Christ Jesus you will stay where you are: complacent, broken, and alone.

Sorry, I know this wasn't the encouraging word you perhaps sought today but sometimes instead of a gentle touch we need a heftier kick.  Not a punch in the face but a jab to the conscience.  Haven't we been coddled enough?  It's time for action if, as I've asked, as Christ Jesus Himself asked "Do you want to be whole?"

Maybe it's time to get to our knees, sisters.  Maybe it's time to stop looking for that help that isn't coming (contrary to the Little River Band's tune "Hang On.  Help Is On Its Way.")  Maybe like the woman with the issue of blood who dared--dared, I say--lower herself to touch just the teeniest piece of Jesus, maybe then He will come to us and say "Thy sins be forgiven thee. Rise up, My child.  Walk.  Stand.  Come unto Me."

Are you ready to rise?

Let's pray!

Well Lord, here I am again, pointing out the obvious to those who already know Your truth.  We know our excuses, our limitations, and our desires.  Some of us really want to be helped but we don't want to give up control, which is why we refuse to hit our knees when the going gets tough.  Some of us keep looking for that someone to physically come to us and be our life coach and hold us accountable for every bite we eat, every step we take, every book we read, every decision we make.  Like Stefan, Lord, we have no man.  He isn't coming.  

However...however, dear sweet God, we have You.  Oh how I pray today that I would lower myself, my false sense of standards, and come down from my lofty tower and self-made pedestal.  I pray that I will hit the floor, Lord, with a penitent heart and a soul that is ready to rise.  Again I ask You for help.  Be my Saviour?  I need You.

In the name of Jesus I pray.  Amen.

Wishin' and Hopin' and Prayin'

Question: Do you want to get well?
Answer: I have no one to help me.

Question: Would you like to get well?
Answer: "I can't, Sir," the sick man said, "for I have no one to put me into the pool when the water bubbles up. Someone else always gets there ahead of me."

Question: Do you wish to get well?
Answer: The sick man answered Him, "Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me."

Question: When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, He saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole?
Answer: The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.

Four different versions of the same conversation and not in a one of them do I read the words "Yes. Yes I want to get better. Yes, I want to be made whole. Yes, that is my wish: to be well."

Do you ever wonder if Jesus is tired of your excuses, tired of your fence-sitting, and/or tired of your lukewarm attitude? Well, wonder no more! Your cries have been heard. Listen as He speaks:
   
     Then Jesus said to him, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk." (NIV)
     Jesus saith unto him, Rise, take up thy bed, and walk. (KJV)

Do you want to be healed or do you just want attention? Do you want to whine instead of being made whole? Don't answer too rashly. Maybe you need a few more years of wandering in the desert. Perhaps some more time lounging at the pool is in order.

Sarcastic much, Stef?

Unfortunately, yes. Yes I am. But I am also sincere. So many times I have made new year's resolutions to conquer such and such behaviour. I've planned new regimes on more fingers and toes that I can count on. I've begged others to journey with me because I know how complacent I get without an accountability partner. So while these words have a bite, listen also to the ring of truth in them.

Do you wish (which implies a dream) or do you want (which implies some effort is going to have to go into it) to get well? Will you be made whole or are you just gonna lay there a while longer and think about it?

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, here's Your wayward child, running her mouth again, trying to straighten everyone else out when she is the one who is bent over, crooked, and in need of Your touch, Your healing, Your completeness. I write this blog in hopes of reaching others but today, God, today it's me who needs to have the waters stirred. Today it's me who needs to have a heavenly visitor come and help me out. Today I find myself on the fence again, wavering, Father, as my flesh battles my desire to be more like You. I wish to be made whole but am not sure I want to put the work into it. Help me? In the name of Jesus I pray. Amen.

"They that are whole need not a physician."

"They that are whole need not a physician."

The impotent man in John 5 (or as I like to refer to him, Stefan) had been in his situation for a long time. We aren't told his age but I daresay his condition wasn't one since birth. Therefore, and because of what Jesus told him after He healed him, Stefan had in part been responsible for his condition.

I may have mentioned that Steve and I are doing "The Armor of God" study by Priscilla Shirer. This morning's lesson was on the breastplate of righteousness and just how very important it is to guard your heart. Your soul. Your inner being. Your inner self.

Before we finished our lesson and began our day, I prayed for my hubby and for me. I tend to need it more than he does. Seriously: the running joke at our home is that Steve's heart is three sizes too small. While mine may not be three sizes too large, it's much more tender, much more sensitive, and often quite easily damaged. Therefore, this breastplate is a piece of defense I can scarce afford to be without.

I wasn't sure where to go with today's lesson so I went to the cabinet where our rarely used Bibles are kept and found the one I referred to yesterday. Tattered. Torn. Well-worn and used. I flipped through it and found dates listed (marriages, births, deaths). I saw scriptures I had highlighted or underlined. Reading a couple of them, I smiled, remembering vaguely some past sermons from beloved preachers. Turned some more pages and I found a card from Steve and two notes from my daughter. Trying to remember when they were written took me back to those times as I tried to recall when I was a mommy instead of a granny. A couple of bookmarks perused over and one obituary notice and then it happened. The dagger. The cutting of my spirit. The sagging of my soul.

No, I won't share that with you because then this blog would be all about me instead of God. It worked a little while ago and got me off track, got my thoughts on me and past "poor-ol'-Stef" situations that don't belong in my present. They aren't going to keep me chained, keep me bitter, keep me impotent. For too long of my lifetime they had me imprisoned but...but not today. Today I am stronger. Protected. Ready for those darts--but only when I remember that each situation I allow myself to be in has its own temptations, its own stumblingblocks, and its own powers. When I walk in the truth and when I keep my attention on Christ, then the focus is on Him, not me.  

Like Stefan, I laid around for many many years, wallowing in my miseries, looking for someone, anyone, anything to pick me up. Be made whole? Ha! Who could fix this broken one? Some pieces were gone--gone, I say. Some were so shattered that how could they possibly be superglued back together? Even Mod Podge didn't stand a chance at reassembling the mess I was.

Will you be made whole? Can you be made whole? Remember at weddings what words the pastor ends the ceremony with: "what God hath joined together let no man tear asunder"? One day, friends, our Groom is coming for us and He will restore, repair, and regenerate in us all that was lost, all that was stolen from us, and all that was shattered. Let's not just lie waiting though in our broken parts. Get your battle gear on and if you can do nothing else, if you are so crippled and so incapacitated, then just stand. Stand, friends. Get up.

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, how I thank You for all of the available tools You put at my disposal. However, Lord, because the devil is so sneaky and so wily, I must be on guard even when I think the area I am in is safe. My church, my pretty purple room, the songs on my Ipod, the tv shows I watch, the books I read, the people I communicate with all have the potential to bring me harm when my defenses are down and I take my eyes off of You. Help me, help those who are reading this blog, please, Lord, for we need You so. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and join us with You. Amen.

Ah, look at all the lonely people

Good morning! Today I am wondering: how could Stefan not know Jesus? I mean, surely he had heard of Him, right? Thirty-eight years at the pool, surrounded by fellow-sufferers, and to top it off, all of them were waiting for an angel to come and stir the waters. Surely if they believed in angels then they had to have heard of the Christ! Right?

Sadly, no. Take a look at the religions we have in our lives today. I am no expert on them so don't worry about us examining them. You're welcome! But in all seriousness, let's ponder for a moment the things people believe in to make their lives better. The Catholics believe in Mother Mary, rosary beads, and priests to get their requests to heaven known. If they just pray enough then perhaps God will forgive them of their sins, or say enough "Hail Marys" and do such-and-such penance then they may be absolved, right? As if!

Sorry, but the ludicrousness of this makes me scoff out loud! But yet...

Yet there were times in my young life I wished I could go to a closet and tell someone all of the bad things I had done, my impure thoughts, the evil I felt in my heart and then have that man tell me what to do to have peace. I longed for the washing of absolution because I felt so dirty inside from the deeds I had done and those I wished I could do. I had this friend in college who was a Catholic. She and her boyfriend always wanted to borrow my station wagon so they could go...well, you know. I worried about her and asked her if she was at least using birth control. Her outraged response? Catholics don't believe in birth control! I wondered: how can she get away with premarital sex and it be okay and yet not be wise and protect herself from an unwanted pregnancy?

Anyway, let's get to Stefan. There he was, day after day, year after year, decade after decade. Surrounded but so all alone. The Beatles sang a tune way back when, "Eleanor Rigby," that starts off with this phrase: "Ah look at all the lonely people. Ah look at all the lonely people." It speaks of Eleanor, a lonely woman just waiting for someone to visit her and who attended weddings just to be close to someone. It also tells of Father McKenzie who performs sermons and then later Eleanor's funeral--both of which no one attended. I wonder how many priests and Pharisees visited the Pool of Bethesda? Wonder how many Jehovah's Witnesses came by? Surely they must have left some of their literature behind for those captive witnesses to peruse later since they had little else to do?

Do I sound sarcastic? Judgmental? I don't want to. Sort of. I'm really having a hard time with understanding how Stefan could so easily place his faith in an angel but not know of Jesus Christ. I'm exploring in my head how in thirty-eight years he had not heard of Jesus. Think about this: while Stefan was lounging at the pool, Jesus was born, raised, and began His ministry. The controversy over Him surely was fodder for daily gossip, right? I mean, the Pool of Bethesda was located in Jerusalem--Jerusalem where so much of Jesus' ministry took place! How could he not know Jesus?!

Sigh. I ask myself the same question. I was brought up in a quasi-Christian home. I attended church fairly regularly as a kid. The elementary school I attended even gave the class kudos if we had all attended church the previous Sunday, such as not having to take a spelling test or extra recess time. My grandmother spoke to me of Jesus every time I saw her. My grandfather kept his large black King James Bible by his table and sent his tithes to our local preacher because he was unable to attend church due to health reasons. Brother Frank had visited with him a few times and as a result, Pop was so impressed that he decided that's where his ten percent should go. I had a white Bible of my own that I had requested one Christmas with my name engraved upon it that I read most nights before bed. But then junior high came and then high school and finally college and my life would not be considered to be one that honored Jesus always. Sometimes. Once in a while? Sigh.

Truthfully, I was so jaded once those college years came around. I had so much head knowledge of biblical things but little real truth in the things that one who has been born again as I claimed should be exhibiting. I was a fence-straddler and the wind blew often. Maybe like Stefan I had heard of Jesus but never thought He'd show up and make me better. Easier to trust in something more realistic happening, like an angel popping by because I...I just wasn't worthy enough for a visit from Christ Himself. No wonder Stefan didn't recognize Jesus as being the One Who had healed him. Men like Stefan (and women like me) don't deserve such royal treatment, do we? And once we receive it, we don't often realize what we've been given until it's later pointed out to us.

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Hey there!  Recently, someone suggested that I put my words to sound.  What?  Seriously!  Everyone doesn't live the life of leisure that I do (ahem...cough...choke) and doesn't have the time it often takes to read my blogs.  So, for one week I am going to attempt to put them on Facebook so that folks can watch if they like but mostly so that they can hear my blog for the day and multitask with other pertinent items on their To-Do Lists for the day.

Here is the link to my Facebook Blog:  Wandering Through The Bible and here is the video link:  My Life Verses for 2016.

Please let me know your thoughts about this new way (for me) to minister.  I've already had some constructive criticism on where to place my eyes, how to not wave the papers across the screen, and a few other things that I hope that I will improve on throughout the week.  Mostly, though, let me know if you prefer reading or listening.  It will assist me as I continue my blog and hopefully honor my Lord Jesus in the process.

Thanks so much!

Stefanie

Call the doctor, call the nurse...

Even though my doctor is a sweet lady, I really don't like going to see her.  I really don't like having her tell me things I should do to make my life, my health better.  "Watch what you eat."  "You need to exercise more."  "Avoid stress."

Thanks, Sally, but I think I can figure this one out on my own.  

But when I am really feeling poorly, when I know my body cannot heal itself without some divine intervention (or at least a prescription of Amoxicillin), go to her I will.  I'll make the phone call, set up the appointment, be there when it's time, get checked up on, and then check out to go get said medicine.  In a few days, I am typically better.  Thankfully this is just a once or twice a year thing and I can tolerate seeing my doctor for this easy type of healing (even though by now you'd think we could just get antibiotics over the counter).

However, there are some things that I put off going to see Sally for.  Things that I don't really want to discuss with her. Maybe they are embarrassing or I know she--and possibly a few others--will be poking their fingers, noses, and such into my personal business and finding...Finding what?  I'm not sure I want to know.  Maybe it is a cancer.  Maybe it is broken and not just sprained.  Maybe a lot of physical therapy is going to have to be had in hopes of restoring an aching joint.  Maybe a mole will have to be removed.  Maybe I'm just better off not knowing and handling it myself.  Miracles still happen, right?

Yeah.

Our friend Stefan that laid by the pool at Bethesda for over 38 years:  do you think he liked doctors?  Do you think he had tried every miracle cure under the sun to no avail?  Do you think he read all of the self-help books and watched all of the infomercials to try to self heal?  And WebMD?  I'm sure if he researched his ailments he not only found that yes indeed, he did have a bad sprain but also the symptoms for TB, Diptheria, bone cancer, and maybe was even anemic.   Do you think he invested a huge sum in vitamins or other medicinal products that promised relief?  Perhaps he bought one of those special beds and a walk-in tub to ease his joint pain.   Maybe he tried some of those creams and jellies that were supposed to soothe those tired, aching muscles.  Those juice supplements?  He heard they tasted really nasty, but could be he tried them.  He might have spent his whole life savings trying to get better with little if any results.   Or he could have just been tight, a miser even, and decided to save those funds for a rainy day when he might really need something.  Yeah, better to just lie here by the pool and wait for that miracle.

Remind you of anyone?  Does this remind you of you?  

How many of us put off going to get professional help and we have our reasons all ready?  Can't afford insurance.  Don't have the time to take off work.  The weather is too yucky.  I'll be better in a few days. Those doctors are all just a bunch of quacks anyways.  Aunt Lucy had this and lived with it for 20 years so I guess it's just hereditary.  But did she really?  Did she really live or just...exist?

Ahh friends.  Is the real reason pride?  Could it be that almighty you is infallible after all?  Maybe you don't know everything.  Maybe you are scared.  Scared to get better.  Afraid that if you do get better, you might lose your benefits.  You might have to go back to work.  Meals on Wheels won't come to you anymore, bringing you not only a nutritious meal but also some company for a few moments of your otherwise solitary day.  

Today, I encourage you to examine yourselves.  Test yourselves.  As 2 Corinthians 13:5 tells us, see if Christ is in you.  I don't think Stefan had Him.  We'll discuss that more the next time.  For today, take a peek into your inner souls.  What's bothering you?  What needs fixed?  Is something so broken that only the Great Physician can do the miracle that needs achieved in order for your joy to be restored?  Do you need a heart transplant and a lobotomy for your brain to be able to distinguish truth from lies?  Whatever your need, know that right now, right this moment, I am praying for you but better still, Jesus has His sweet eyes on you.  Do you wish to be made whole?

Let's pray!

Oh Dear Father!  How my heart hurts as I write these words for those who may be suffering from diseases of body and spirit.  I ask on their behalves, Lord, for You to pay them a special visit today.  Come to where they are, God, for they are too helpless to make the appointment with You.  They are frail, needy, and oh how they hurt.  Comfort and heal them is my prayer, asked in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.

Stefan

If you know me at all then you know that there is a song that runs through my mind for nearly every occasion.  This morning is no exception!  As we consider verses 4-7 of John 5, the song pictured is the one that popped into my head.  "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" also has been going through my head but for today, let's use Squire Parson's melody "He Came To Me" to plant the seed of our hopeless and helpless state without Christ coming to us. 

Speaking of our verses, let's review them now.

For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.

And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years.

When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole?

The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.

This man--and since we are going to be speaking of him so often, don't you think we should give him a name?  No, I'm not trying to rewrite the Bible but it's just a bit easier to call him Fred or Larry instead of the Impotent Man.  Hmn.  I know!  We could refer to him as Stefan.  Stefan.  Sounds exotic, don't you think, and also keeps him on track with reminding me of how very much he and I are alike. 

So, Stefan is literally on the ground.  Has been there for 38 years.  His only hope (or so he thinks) of getting better is to have a man--someone...anyone--put him into the healing waters of the Bethesda Pool.  Unfortunately, like poor ol' Ricky Bobby believed from the tales he heard growing up, if you aren't first, you're last.  If you aren't first, then too bad, so sad.  If you aren't first, then...Well, you stay in this condition until the next season when the angel comes to stir the waters again.

I wonder how hard he tried?  I wonder how much effort Stefan put into getting himself ready for that season when the angel would come.  Season.  Hmn.  Makes me ponder:  was it a specific time each year, such as when winter, spring, summer, and fall occur?  Was there advance notice that the angel would arrive on such and such date or...Or did one just have to chance it, to be ready in and out of season?  Did Stefan just lie there and hope to get a jump on the competition, counting on some "miracle" to help him out, or did he prepare for the spontaneity  of the angel's arrival?

"I have no man."  

Sounds to me like Stefan counted on the kindness of strangers to get him out of his bind and into the bountiful.  Sounds like he had no friends, for his words of  having "no man" lead me to believe there wasn't anyone close to him to help him out.  After 38 years of being in the same condition, in the same area surrounded by other hapless folks, and after countless times of frustration did he not share his angst with anyone?!

Maybe he did at first.  Maybe he commiserated with the others who had their own infirmities.  Maybe when he tried to tell someone what had led to him being in this condition, maybe they listened the first few times but then wanted to be heard more than they wanted to hear of another's woes.  Perhaps they themselves had been there longer than Stefan and tended to feel that they had it worse than he did.  Maybe Stefan was a whiner who only wanted attention but didn't really want their advice on how to position himself closer to the pool.  I mean really, this spot over here was so much more comfortable and had a prettier view.  He could watch the newbies arrive and keep an eye out for the latest happenings.   Besides, why bother getting close to anyone?  They only expected things from you and wanted to change you, to better you to suit their needs.  Right?  No one really cares about me, Stefan must have thought, otherwise surely I would be healed by now.

Have other people let you down, friends?  Have you ever had a problem or condition that required extra attention that at first these "friends" were glad to provide but soon tired of the time and energy it took into taking care of your needs when their own were so much more personal?  You became bothersome, an annoyance, and soon, you became an afterthought.  An "Oh yeah, whatever happened to Stefan" sort of soul.  When it came out that you were still poor and needy, they quickly wrote you off.  Again.  Out of sight; out of mind.  For years.  Decades.  More than half of your life.

Sigh.

Oh my sweet ones, how I feel your ache and empathize with your plight!  That feeling that no one--NO ONE--cares.  That realization that you are once and for all totally helpless, friendless, and hopeless is one I have been in and if truth be told, often still feel like I am in.  When the chips are down and I am in the pit with them, where is my "man," my buddy, my life-long friend who said she'd always be there for me yet when I call out to her, I get voice mail or unanswered texts?  Where is my "man" who said "for better or for worse" and went and found  the better and left me behind?  Where is my "man" who brought me into this world and then discarded me to suit his own selfish desires?  And what about those church folks who claim to be so much like Jesus?  Where are they when I need a hand out--I mean a hand up?  

He came to me.  Jesus came to me.  Just as He came to Stefan, He came to me and brought me out and through the gulf that separated me from Him.  Did it take Him 38 years to do so?  Did He not notice how badly I needed some help?  Did He not see me lying in my state for all of these years?  I mean, the Israelites wandered for 40 years.  The woman with the issue of blood suffered for 12 years, and the woman with a disabled spirit was bent over for 18 years.  He finally healed them but...what took Him so long?  Why did Jesus not heal immediately?

I don't know.  I don't know why folks are born with diseases and disabilities or why some are afflicted later in life with handicaps.  I don't know why so many hurt and if the condition is a result of sin or if it was created so that Jesus might be glorified, as in the story of the blind man from birth who was granted his sight.  What I do know is that Jesus came to me.  More than once.  Sometimes He came but I didn't acknowledge His presence.  I was happier (or so I told myself) being miserable rather than trusting once again in someone who might let me down as so many before had.  

Okay, I know this has been a longer blog than you probably had hoped for.  So, I'll close for now.  There is still so much more to say though that I hope you will come back next time to see what incredibleness lies in our Saviour that He would take His time to come to us.  And if for some reason you don't know Jesus as Lord, I invite you to send me a note so I can tell you more about that and how to have Him lead your life.  

Let's pray!

Dear Lord, first off, thanks for coming to me.  I don't know if You didn't come sooner because I was still so Stef-involved and hard-headed and coldhearted that there wasn't room.  I don't know if perhaps You were there all along and I just refused to look up because the view from the bottom was so great (ahem).  I don't know when You came to me and I finally realized that without You there was just no chance at all for healing, for wholeness.  But You came.  You came to me.  Me!  

Thank You.  

You were there all along, weren't You, God?  Thank You for lifting my eyes, my soul, and my spirit.  Help us all today to remember that even when we don't feel You or see You, You are there.  You are here.  You came to us and You aren't going to leave us alone.  What wondrous love!  I accept You and love You in return, Father.  Amen.