Thumbs Up?

When I write, I can better focus on God.  The occasional squirrel may continue to distract and the rabbit chasing may continue, but they are a smaller colony than if I just let my mind wander without any direction.  With either pen or pencil in hand, or fingers firmly planted on the keyboard, my thoughts take direction and even though these fingers aren’t as nimble as they once were, they do their best to keep up with the rampant thoughts that meander through my mind as I wander and wonder about God.

The other night during one of our Bible Studies, I had to just stop and stare at my thumb.  It was not cooperating and I was mesmerized as I just stared and glared at it.  Why was it holding me back?  Did it not know that there were words that needed to be penned?  The audacity of it to just quit; to just go numb.  Why would it not move?!

As I kept studying it, willing it to come back to life, I had to slow my thoughts down and try to make them stay at bay until they could become these great words of art that needed to be immortalized.  That in turn led my wandering mind to the question “By whom, Stef?  Who really needs to read these words?”

Wow!  It’s bad enough when friends betray you but when your own self won’t even support you?  Ffff!

So, between my unruly thumb and my unkind mind, my fingers have not been producing blogs lately because I am conflicted about why I even bother.  I mean seriously, how many people are even reading these works of heart (notice how I made that rhyme with my earlier statement of “words of art”)?  

I know of One.  Almost always two but definitely the One.  

As I read in Acts this morning about some guy named Jason, my eyes were drawn to the footnotes.  I tell you what:  this Life Application Study Bible (New King James Version, Large Print, published by Tyndale) sure has some great reference notes!  Often I find myself encouraged by them as I seek a greater understanding of what I read or am about to read.  But I stray (see what I mean about those rabbits?!).  Jason was this fella who quietly stood up and stood for what he believed to be truth.  As Paul made his way about Thessalonica, he and Silas were hosted by Jason.  Later, Jason had to post bond when the Jewish leaders weren’t tracking with the message these saints of God were trying to share, even though it could potentially cost him his property and/or his life.  Read Acts 17: 1-9 for this story and for those of you who do not have the Study Bible that I use, let me share these thoughts with you from the study notes provided:

• Paul spoke to the people on the level that they were at.  He began with the Old Testament, finding common ground with them, then affirming what they knew before going on to new truths.
• Those who were against the teachings of Paul and Silas and their popularity were the ones who caused riots because they were rooted in their own personal jealousies instead of the pure doctrine.
• Jason is one of those many (perhaps even like you and hopefully like me) unsung heroes of the Bible who was faithful in doing his part to spread the Word.
• This one should have a star beside of it because it is what thrilled my soul this morning, and I quote:  “You may not receive much attention (in fact, you may receive only grief) for your service for Christ.  But God wants to use you.  Lives will be changed because of your courage and faithfulness.”
• Later, in verse 16, the footnote reminds me that Paul used his internal conflict for positive opportunities to share Jesus--for you see, “his spirit was provoked within him”  (like mine often is!!).

As Paul continued teaching and reaching the folks who were at Athens, he wasn’t always met with open arms.  However there were some great scholars there who did listen to him, questioned him, and wanted to hear more.  Sadly though (as I find myself wondering if this should be my life verse) there were others who said, “‘What does this babbler want to say?’” This is found in verse 18.  Paul then went on to teach them about their unknown God and showed them his.  The encouragement from verse 32?  Priceless!  Let me quote it for you:

And when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked, while others said, “We will hear you again on this matter.”

I don’t know how many of you are out there who have “liked” Wandering Through The Bible actually still read it, just occasionally glance at my pictures/quotes/memes and go on, or who maybe secretly read it but just never comment on it.  But regardless of this and of how often the devil tries to tell me I am a fool, I’m still going to keep writing and posting.  Not just for you--although my sincere desire is to share Christ with you--but because when I write, I can better focus on God.  The occasional squirrel may continue to distract and the rabbit chasing may continue, but they are a smaller colony than if I just let my mind wander without any direction.  With either pen or pencil in hand, or fingers firmly planted on the keyboard, my thoughts take direction and even though these fingers aren’t as nimble as they once were, they do their best to keep up with the rampant thoughts that meander through my mind as I wander and wonder about God.  

My audience of One is why I write.  My number one supporter who often tells me he misses being inside of my head is also a major reason I continue this blog because iron sharpens iron and we need each other to stay strong.  And for those of you who actually do spend your precious time reading this and not just clicking a sporadic “like” every once in a while to humor me?  Thanks!  I mean this.  I know I can be long-winded at times but my hope is that these words will bless and encourage you to seek what it is that you need to make your walk with Christ a better one.  If I can do that for even one of you, then my labor is not in vain.  And when I do it with God as my intended critic?  Then maybe I can be a Jason too.  A girl can dream, right?  

Let’s pray!

Dear Lord, as I strive to write down my thoughts and share them publically, I must keep in mind that it is Your approval, Your “likes” that matter most, and that I won’t be admired, accepted, or acknowledged by those whom I falsely seek affirmation in.  

Oh Lord:  keep my pride at bay as I continue the minute by minute struggle to stay focused on You and the works You would have me to do.  Constantly remind me, I beg, to remember that this life is not about me.  It’s You and You alone Who deserves all the fame and acclaim.  And You are where my hope is found.  I place my hope, my dreams, and my self in You, Lord God, through Jesus Christ.  Amen.

You Don't Even Know Who I Am or You Never Even Called Me By My Name

Don’t you just hate it when a song you don’t particularly care for runs incessantly through your mind?  Me too!  Case in point:  as I was pondering this verse and what I was hoping to glean from it--thinking along the lines of mistaken identity and such--the chorus to Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band’s “Fortunate Son” traipsed through my head.  Sing it with me and let’s hope that the connotation will go from being a wrongly accused senator’s son, millionaire’s son, and military son to being a rightly acknowledged child of God.

It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate son, no
It ain't me, it ain't me.

Have you ever been mistaken for somebody else?  It happens to me.  A lot!  Thankfully, for most of those times, it’s someone who is loved, liked, or at least well-thought of.  Sometimes this dear woman at church for no reason other than her own goosiness calls me “Phyllis” and we laugh about it because there is just no rhyme nor reason to it.  But there have been those times when I was called by another’s name that I just did not appreciate the label.

“Mary, do you know the answer to why the right angle in this problem is not 90 degrees?”  

“Kassie, can you tell the class why Mr. Darcy is so proud and afraid of his feelings for Ms. Bennett?”  

As a former school teacher myself, I know how hard it is to remember all the student’s names so in hindsight I will cut these former educators some slack (ahem Ms. Campbell, Mr. Buckner, and Ms. Higgins) now but back then, it really did not make my day. My only satisfaction come from the fact that my younger brother would now have one more name to add to his list of people he was called as his turn at Mountain Heritage was soon to come!

Other cases of being confused for another involved things that could go for me in the positive--such as being given credit for a task that I had honestly had little if any part in.  Or they could continue negatively, as was more often the case, when I was blamed for something I did not do but because of my proximity to the instance was readily accused.  Guilt by association?  Perhaps.  Often, it’s just easier to hit the target closest to one instead of taking the time to investigate what really happened.

In the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, two sisters were identified:  Martha and Mary.  I hadn’t really considered it much until today, but as one reads this story in John 11, verse 2 stands out for giving further future detail to Mary.  She was the one who would later perfume Jesus’ feet with her costly ointment as she washed those tender and tired tootsies with her very own hair.  Foreshadowing certainly lends excitement to this passage, don’t you think?

Anyway, what difference does this make to me, to you, and in the whole grand scheme of things?  I’ll tell you!  Yesterday my pastor taught on John 7:3-9.  Well, he meant to but for some reason didn’t quite make it all the way to the end of these verses but…What caught my attention was verse 5: “For neither did His brethren believe in Him.”

Ouch!  Those old prickles started poking me, jabbing at me with full force, as I tried to not squirm at the pain they were causing me.  So many times in my life I have been the victim of unbelief.  Sure, there were the times of being confused for another and no matter what I said, I couldn’t convince that soul that I was not Betty Jean who lived down the road back in 1987 in such and such town.  And the times mentioned above when I was called by one of my sister’s name.  And those times when I was falsely under suspicion for something that had not gone right--again, through no fault of my own.  But what was pricking me the most was that no matter how I try to shake off the shame of who I was, my following (if you will) today does not believe in me.  

Why?  Why is it so hard to get supporters who will jump to my defense instantly--even before hearing the facts?  Where is that sense of loyalty to me that I see in so many memes that talk about the friend who is beside the other in the jail cell because she took up for her, in spite of who was wrong or right:  it just was the thing to do?

Where are those to champion me in my endeavours regardless of how silly they might be or because this is the 6,873,492 new venture I have set out on?  Why can’t I be a Mary (and no, not my real sister Mary but the Mary Magdalene here in this verse)?  Why can my fame not be spread abroad in a positive way that makes others want to know me more, to be my number one fan, friend, and proponent--instead of constantly opposing me because they think I am not worth their time?  Why does even my own family (spare my ever-faithful husband) shun endorsing me when I have fought so valiantly to become the woman I am today?  Can they not see who I am or...or are they just too uncaring to see my success and would rather dwell on my past failings?  Does this somehow make theirs seem not so bad?

Sigh.

In conclusion, I didn’t want this to be a Stef-pity blog so let me try to end it on an encouraging note.  As I pondered on Pastor Dale’s message from yesterday and had my little pity party for one, my good Stef (she really does exist!) played devil’s advocate and began to wonder whom she has not been supporting, whom she has not been loyal to, and whom she needs to pay more attention to.  There are so many needy people right in front of me!  

Lord, open my eyes to see them!  Open my ears to hear their silent cries for attention!  Melt my heart to the pains they are feeling.  And Lord, as the pastor concluded yesterday, don’t let me--like Jesus (oh the audacity of me to compare myself to Him but I must in order to reach that level of perfection)--be taunted by the word “if.”  

“IF I am who I say I am, then prove it to those more favorable ones who can notice my works and declare my fame.”  

Un unh, Lord God.  IF I am who I say I am, then let my words speak for themselves.  Let my actions of today prove true.  Let those whom I may minister to via this blog and in my personal life--though they may be few in number--may they see You in me, the hope of glory, the assurance that You give for mending broken vessels and giving them the opportunity to allow light to still shine through them.  

And mostly Father?  May my name be one that is uttered with reverence as Mary’s was when it was associated with Yours.  Not so that I may be glorified, God but that You will be as the world realizes I do these things not for show but so that I may grow closer to You and share Your mercies and grace.  That is indeed my prayer and while it might seem audacious to some, I intend to be bold in my faith, Father.  I am Your daughter and it’s past time that I claimed that title!  In the name of Jesus Christ I pray these things: amen!

You Don't Even Know Who I Am or You Never Even Called Me By My Name

Don’t you just hate it when a song you don’t particularly care for runs incessantly through your mind?  Me too!  Case in point:  as I was pondering this verse and what I was hoping to glean from it--thinking along the lines of mistaken identity and such--the chorus to Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band’s “Fortunate Son” traipsed through my head.  Sing it with me and let’s hope that the connotation will go from being a wrongly accused senator’s son, millionaire’s son, and military son to being a rightly acknowledged child of God.

It ain't me, it ain't meI ain't no fortunate son, no It ain't me, it ain't me.

Have you ever been mistaken for somebody else?  It happens to me.  A lot!  Thankfully, for most of those times, it’s someone who is loved, liked, or at least well-thought of.  Sometimes this dear woman at church for no reason other than her own goosiness calls me “Phyllis” and we laugh about it because there is just no rhyme nor reason to it.  But there have been those times when I was called by another’s name that I just did not appreciate the label.

“Mary, do you know the answer to why the right angle in this problem is not 90 degrees?”  

“Kassie, can you tell the class why Mr. Darcy is so proud and afraid of his feelings for Ms. Bennett?”  

As a former school teacher myself, I know how hard it is to remember all the student’s names so in hindsight I will cut these former educators some slack (ahem Ms. Campbell, Mr. Buckner, and Ms. Hensley) now but back then, it really did not make my day. My only satisfaction come from the fact that my younger brother would now have one more name to add to his list of people he was called as his turn at Mountain Heritage was soon to come!

Other cases of being confused for another involved things that could go for me in the positive--such as being given credit for a task that I had honestly had little if any part in.  Or they could continue negatively, as was more often the case, when I was blamed for something I did not do but because of my proximity to the instance was readily accused.  Guilt by association?  Perhaps.  Often, it’s just easier to hit the target closest to one instead of taking the time to investigate what really happened.

In the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, two sisters were identified:  Martha and Mary.  I hadn’t really considered it much until today, but as one reads this story in John 11, verse 2 stands out for giving further future detail to Mary.  She was the one who would later perfume Jesus’ feet with her costly ointment as she washed those tender and tired tootsies with her very own hair.  Foreshadowing certainly lends excitement to this passage, don’t you think?

Anyway, what difference does this make to me, to you, and in the whole grand scheme of things?  I’ll tell you!  Yesterday my pastor taught on John 7:3-9.  Well, he meant to but for some reason didn’t quite make it all the way to the end of these verses but…What caught my attention was verse 5: “For neither did His brethren believe in Him.”

Ouch!  Those old prickles started poking me, jabbing at me with full force, as I tried to not squirm at the pain they were causing me.  So many times in my life I have been the victim of unbelief.  Sure, there were the times of being confused for another and no matter what I said, I couldn’t convince that soul that I was not Betty Jean who lived down the road back in 1987 in such and such town.  And the times mentioned above when I was called by one of my sister’s name.  And those times when I was falsely under suspicion for something that had not gone right--again, through no fault of my own.  But what was pricking me the most was that no matter how I try to shake off the shame of who I was, my following (if you will) today does not believe in me.  

Why?  Why is it so hard to get supporters who will jump to my defense instantly--even before hearing the facts?  Where is that sense of loyalty to me that I see in so many memes that talk about the friend who is beside the other in the jail cell because she took up for her, in spite of who was wrong or right:  it just was the thing to do?

Where are those to champion me in my endeavours regardless of how silly they might be or because this is the 6,873,492 new venture I have set out on?  Why can’t I be a Mary (and no, not my real sister Mary but the Mary Magdalene here in this verse)?  Why can my fame not be spread abroad in a positive way that makes others want to know me more, to be my number one fan, friend, and proponent--instead of constantly opposing me because they think I am not worth their time?  Why does even my own family (spare my ever-faithful husband) shun endorsing me when I have fought so valiantly to become the woman I am today?  Can they not see who I am or...or are they just too uncaring to see my success and would rather dwell on my past failings?  Does this somehow make theirs seem not so bad?

Sigh.

In conclusion, I didn’t want this to be a Stef-pity blog so let me try to end it on an encouraging note.  As I pondered on Pastor Dale’s message from yesterday and had my little pity party for one, my good Stef (she really does exist!) played devil’s advocate and began to wonder whom she has not been supporting, whom she has not been loyal to, and whom she needs to pay more attention to.  There are so many needy people right in front of me!  

Lord, open my eyes to see them!  Open my ears to hear their silent cries for attention!  Melt my heart to the pains they are feeling.  And Lord, as the pastor concluded yesterday, don’t let me--like Jesus (oh the audacity of me to compare myself to Him but I must in order to reach that level of perfection)--be taunted by the word “if.”  

“IF I am who I say I am, then prove it to those more favorable ones who can notice my works and declare my fame.”  

Un unh, Lord God.  IF I am who I say I am, then let my words speak for themselves.  Let my actions of today prove true.  Let those whom I may minister to via this blog and in my personal life--though they may be few in number--may they see You in me, the hope of glory, the assurance that You give for mending broken vessels and giving them the opportunity to allow light to still shine through them.  

And mostly Father?  May my name be one that is uttered with reverence as Mary’s was when it was associated with Yours.  Not so that I may be glorified, God but that You will be as the world realizes I do these things not for show but so that I may grow closer to You and share Your mercies and grace.  That is indeed my prayer and while it might seem audacious to some, I intend to be bold in my faith, Father.  I am Your daughter and it’s past time that I claimed that title!  In the name of Jesus Christ I pray these things: amen!

When you're weary; feeling small...

I often joke to Steve after having written a blog that I am surprised as he is as to what comes out of my fingers.  I plan for my writing to go one way and then, somehow, it goes another, as though my fingers have a mind of their own and just type whatever comes through them.

This just happened.  Again.  As I was pondering what title to use for what I thought I was about to write, this old line from Simon and Garfunkel’s classic hit “Bridge Over Troubled Water” popped into my mind.  Are you as curious as I am to see where it leads?  Let’s go then!

Yesterday I was taking pictures of my beautiful tree, Alice, in my front yard.  Her leaves are splendid this time of the year and--especially from the front bedroom window--they radiate a brilliance of color that just begs one to stare at the scene before her.  However, as I was outside snapping away, I noticed something:  the leaves weren’t red.  They were more brownish, slightly orange, but definitely not the radiant red that I saw from my window just a few minutes prior.  How could this be?  I mean, I know my eyes aren’t as clear as they used to be but surely I could tell the difference between colors, couldn’t I?  

As I’ve been pondering that, it came to me that there are two sides (or more) to every story.  While I thought I saw things one way, when I later looked at them from another viewpoint, my thoughts changed.  Hmn.  So, I asked myself, what was going on here?  Was this not the same tree?  Indeed it was.  Was it not still beautiful?  Definitely!  Did the color of her leaves really matter then, in the grand scheme of things?  Welllll...I guess not.  Was she still doing her part to use her glory to praise our great Lord?  Yes!

{What does this have to do with the song, Stef?  I know, I know!  I’m wondering that too.}

While I continued to take a few other pictures, my camera stopped.  Thinking it was the battery, I was surprised to see that it was the disk instead.  There was no more room on it.  It was full.

Huh!  Guess I should go change it and get a new one.  

Because I like to label my disks for future reference, I put it into my computer to download the latest photos, and to also check to see when the first ones were taken.  Surprisingly, it was almost a year ago to the very day!  Wow!  

As I held that tiny little piece of data in my hand, I was reminded of something:  God’s knowledge of me is so vast.  He has me in the palm of His hand.  Does He use memory sticks, too? I wondered.  Does He have all of His kids’ lives on a thumb drive to record the events that have transpired through all of their lives?  That must be how He keeps it all straight!  

Okay, are you still with me?  All of these jumbled thoughts are rolling around in my head (per usual) but they all lead to the same point.  Ready for it?  

God is in control.  Of all of it.  Of all of us.  Whether we are having a bad day and feeling small or perhaps because we are weary from all that life has thrown out at us.  Pictures of places and people that are no longer in our realm may bring back sad memories.  Or, maybe this presidential situation has us looking at things from a different angle than this time last week as the outcome for who won was still not quite decided.  The ongoing debate of republicans versus democrats has some even questioning whom their true friends are.  Even though we are Americans, some are wondering if coexistence is even possible now.  

Regardless of how we feel, what we think, or what appears to be one way but might possibly be another, God has it all in the palm of His hand.  ALL of it.  Like my tree, He looks at things from all sides and what appears one way to some can be quite different to others but...But the tree is the same.  Its roots are still firmly entrenched in the solid ground and its mission has not changed.  

So, my tree and my disk are the objects of this blog today.  Both have beauty in them and both have stood the test of time, recording the highs and lows of the past.  Change is evident as one studies their beginning to their present.  For one, the time is over and a replacement part is needed to keep the records going (as in our new president).  For the tree, her story hasn’t stopped.  Yeah, she’s going to take a break this winter and rest a bit from the long spring and summer.  In January, she too will start anew and who knows what types of growth she will experience?

Wow!  Did not see this turning into something about the presidential race at all.  But then again, it fits, does it not?  America the Beautiful.  And not just that race, but the human race, the race to the finish line as we consider our time and God’s plans for us.  He has us in His hand, in His thoughts, and is preparing a kingdom for us like none other.  Our lives matter to Him and He sees all sides to whatever is going on within and around us.  Our time is limited, as is the amount of space on a SanDisk.  While some see our true colors, others are exposed to sides of us that some may not see.  But it’s what is on the inside that will ultimately reveal to them Whose we are.  Are we using our time and our beauty to reflect Christ?  That’s what really matters, friends.  

In conclusion, (thankfully because I think I am more muddled than when I first started writing), as Americans we are being watched.  As Christians, we are being studied, examined.  As our time continues, my hope is that we allow Christ Jesus to be our Bridge between our present situation with soon-to-be-President Trump and our future with our unchanging and powerful God.  It’s all about Him, friends, and it’s time to let our true colors show!

Every Breath You Take

Yesterday while watching Steve and the kids play on the beach, my eyes were drawn to the left of them.  While my intention was not to spy or stalk on anyone, this woman in the picture kept my attention wandering back to her instead of on the scene I was adoring.  

I watched her for several moments to be sure and yes, I was right (I love it when that happens!):  this woman was praising the Lord.  I won’t say I was mesmerized but there was definitely a pull felt as I kept gazing at her, seeing her lifting her hands, over and over again.  I couldn’t hear her but did see her lips moving and I wondered if she was singing, praying, rejoicing, praising, or all of the above.  

Although my eyes kept going back to the world, my little world, this gesture of love and worship reminded me that it doesn’t matter who is around, where one is located, or what the situation is, we are commanded to praise the Lord if we have breath.  Well, this woman surely did!  I don’t feel like she was doing it for show nor did I think she had any clue the impression she was making on me--and possibly others who were watching.  {Sidebar:  later in the day when I asked Steve if he had noticed her, he was askance to realize he had not.  Made me wonder:  why can we often not see what is right in front of our eyes, or at least a little to the right of them?  Hmn.  Maybe our focus is too much on self instead of what’s going on around us? Hmn hmn hmn.}

I know there have been times for various reasons (such as a cold, bronchitis, old age, or too much on my belly) that I could barely muster enough air to blow up a balloon.  I’ve seen people with COPD, asthma, and even some on death’s door who were still breathing, that chest slowly moving up and down to indicate life was still inside of them.  I’ve seen others who have laughed so hard that their breath was taken as the enjoyment of the moment overwhelmed them.  I’ve seen folks who had to be slapped (often quite hard) on the back to bring the air back into them so that whatever object that may have been preventing them from breathing was displaced.  These all had the opportunity to praise God with their breaths--even those that were inhaling their last.  

In conclusion, take a moment today and breathe.  In.  And out.  In.  And out.  Repeat as many times as you need to but while doing so, keep this in mind:  you have 86,400 seconds in a day.  Spare a couple of them, won’t you, to praise our Lord?  He’s worthy!  Lift those hands as an added bonus and those of you who can sing (even if some don’t appreciate your dulcet tones), sing!  “Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord.  Praise ye the Lord!”

What Is That To You? November 10, 2016

What Is That To You?

Last night as Steve and I continued our studies, we came across this portion of a verse:  that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty (I Timothy 2:2).  It stood out to the both of us--even though it wasn’t what we were focusing our lesson on.  

Now, I don’t really like adjectives that are quantitative, such as “all” is because...well, because it just isn’t fair.  I mean seriously, can someone do something ALL the time?  What about those incidences where you miss the mark--either just barely or by a full mile?  We strive to do our best but you and I both know that there are going to be areas where we fall short.  

When this verse says “in all godliness and honesty” it just isn’t attainable! But enough with semantics.  What the gist of it means to me is that when one abides by God’s laws, He promises us many French benefits.  Living a quiet and peaceable life is one of the many blessings He provides and as this month of November is one where folks declare their thankfulness for the good things in their lives, I want to take this opportunity to thank God for my quiet life.  Oh sure, the noises in my head would argue that it’s awfully loud in there but for the most part, my life is still.  Settled.  Comfortable.  Peaceable?  Yes!  The battles I fought for so long have been won and my heart is at peace with most of the things in it.  Not ALL of them but definitely most of them.  What more could a girl ask for?

Let’s pray!

Dear Father God, as I ponder on the wonderful things You have wrought, I am thankful.  As a middle-aged-wife, mother, grandmother, and friend to some, You have supplied me with more than I deserve.  I do try to live my life to honor You and this is my just reward--not because of my works, oh no, Lord.  We know better than that!  But because You promised good things to Your kids if we’d abide by Your rules.  And these rules You set before us are good ones, Father.  We need directions, boundaries, and limits.  We need guidance and we need help in discerning truth by Your standards, not those of the world.

Thank You for my life.  Thank You for my peace and for my quiet.  When I rest, rely, and remember You, Lord God, the results are good ones.  And though troubles may be on my horizon, for today, for this moment, I am praising You with a thankful heart for Your blessings on me.  

I love You!  Thanks for loving me too:  for loving me first.  You complete me!  

Amen.

A Little Something Different

Today I invite you to go over to Facebook (for those of you who have it) to watch today's wandering thoughts.  If you aren't a member of Facebook, that's okay.  Click on this link and it will allow you to view this video:
WanderingThroughTheBible.

Hope you like it!

What Is That To You?

What Is That To You?

Good morning!  I want to share with you the concept of my and Steve’s latest Bible Study.  It’s entitled “What Is That To You” and is a result of...well, of me trying to not be such a busybody, always trying to straighten everyone else out, and instead, as Jesus told Peter, to basically mind my own business.  When I do that, when I keep my eyes on Christ, following Him and not checking to see what you are doing (yes you!) then I have time--much more time--to consider the teachings of Christ and to determine what they mean to me.

Obviously, the scriptures are for everyone and yet we are told to work out our own salvation.  Does that mean we are to decide how and when we get saved?  Hardly!  Rather, it means that each of us has our own story of our experience of allowing and receiving Jesus into our lives.  For some it was an earth-shattering event because of the revelation of just how much in need of a Saviour they were.  Others (like me) were saved as a young child and did not know the extreme benefit of having Christ Jesus dwell in us.  The lessons were taught way back when and we believed them, believed what the preachers preached and the Sunday School Teachers taught.  But then, somewhere along the line, our thoughts became questions and we wanted better, deeper answers to the things we’d always believed.  Not that they were necessarily wrong, but...but that more insight was needed, more understanding of the behind-the-scenes action that was taking place.  As I go through different stages of life, I find that some scriptures that I had relied upon for various seasons have become more study-worthy, such as the one pictured above:

When Peter saw him, he asked, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain until I return, what is that to you? You follow Me!”  (John 21:21-22)

Peter, like I so often am, was questioning about what role others are to play in this adventure of life we are all on.  He was more focused on John and what he was doing than he was on himself.  Jesus, however, was more concerned that Peter knew his place, his calling, and his pathway.  Ouch!  Peter must have felt the sting of that rebuke: “What is that to you?”  I know I did.  It’s as though each time I read these verses, Jesus is saying the same thing to me:  Stefanie, what is that to you--that thing you keep observing in others?  What is so important in that soul’s life that it keeps you from doing what I have planned for you, My child?  Keep your eyes on Me, Stef, and don’t worry about others.  Stefanie?  You follow Me!

So, here I am.  Keeping my eyes on the prize ahead for me but prizes aren’t just randomly handed out in God’s kingdom.  Prizes are more like rewards, awards even, for accomplishing specific tasks.  My path isn’t the same one you will trod, nor is yours one that I must walk down.  Oh sure, they will intersect at times and even run along a parallel course.  When they do, I want to be your companion not your competition nor your thorn in the flesh.  I want to keep you encouraged and motivated and inspired to keep walking, to keep standing, and to be still when the time is for you to do such things.  But mostly I want to mind my own business and follow Jesus where He leads me.  I can’t very well do that if I am watching others, now can I?  My eyes must stay on my Saviour!  Even if I could walk in your shoes, they weren’t designed for me.  I have my own pair and they must be broken in, I must be broken in, as I follow our Lord down this road He has prepared for me.  It is pleasant when a companion is travelling beside of me, no doubt, so when our paths do intersect, let’s be teammates and not adversaries.  Life is not a competition:  we all can be winners when we focus on our goals instead of one another.

Let’s pray!

Dear Lord, the lessons You teach aren’t always received joyfully.  Some of the instructions are hard and I often fail on the exam.  I can’t use a cheat sheet, Father, and get by on others’ knowledge.  Some lessons I must learn for myself because I am in a constant state of flux.  What was true and simple in my yesteryears is now sometimes complex and questions arise as to how I am best to deal with the situations in my life today.

Thank You for Your Word, Lord.  So much of it I have read and studied many times in my life but now those words have deeper meanings.  I pay more attention to key phrases and specific word choice in scriptures that in the past I skimmed over or didn’t completely understand--nor take the time to do so.  Also, due to my ever-changing roles in life (wife of a middle-aged husband, grandmother, Mom instead of Momma, blogger, and the different positions within my church that I participate in), my mentality has changed as well.  I’m not a child any longer and I am responsible more than ever for the biblical truths revealed to me concerning my behaviour, my lifestyle, and my representation of You.

Thank You for this new study, Lord, and I am excited to discover the revelations You show me as I take Your Word to my heart as my crazy head examines myself and I contemplate why I believe what I believe and if changes need to be made.  When changes need to be made.  Quicken me, Father?  Help Steve and my pastor and my friends to sharpen me.  “What is that to you?  Follow Me” is the command given.  Oh how I anticipate what these things are to me, Lord Jesus, as my journey with You continues!  May my eyes stay on You is my prayer today.  Keep those squirrels and rabbits at bay, I pray in Your holy and precious name.  Amen.