When the Menu is Manna

  "I'll pray for you." How many times have you heard this phrase? Better yet, how many times have you said it? It's an easy roll off the tongue. Though good intentions are there in the moment, I don't know about you, but distractions sometimes creep in, and before I know it, my focus is elsewhere. The end of that scenario is that sometimes, I fail to pray. Why is that? I remember to breathe, eat, or sleep, all essential to sustain life.  What if we thought of prayer as necessary to maintain our spiritual lives? Food nourishes the physical body, and prayer fortifies the spiritual body to have a growing relationship with God. When prayer is absent, it is like a long-lost friend, someone you used to share almost everything with. So, it is with prayer. When we neglect to pray, we lose touch with the One who has always been there through the good and bad, thick and thin, and the ups and downs of this gift called life. So, when you say, "I'll pray for you,...

"Now may the God of peace... equip you with everything good for doing His will, and may He work in us what is pleasing to Him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen" Hebrews 13:20-21 NIV This scripture reminds me of a time when placing the "good" alongside the word work was challenging. I had never been on this side of the fence before, but I had a supervisor I could not please. I had always been a good employee and never needed discipline, so I was at a loss about handling this curve I did not see coming. I decided to tackle it in the most respectful way I could imagine. I confronted my authority. I asked for clarification on what needed improvement in my performance. Sadly, no answers were given. Instead, I received retaliation for questioning and was reassigned to random duties. Most of these things had nothing to do with my skill set. My first inclination was to walk away and make this authority happy, but I decided against that as it wo...

                                            I remember the first book I wrote. I was so excited to work on it through every stage of its development. I eagerly waited for the manuscript's editor to return it several times throughout the process to refine my work. Slowly, I saw its shape in the finished work I had imagined. The day finally came, and I submitted the completed manuscript. I thought about what this book might offer. Could my experiences, lessons learned, and opportunities bring encouragement to people I might never know personally? I tried to visualize the type of people who would take the time to turn the pages and have access to the message I was compelled to share, that we can encounter the God of the universe and see His work in our lives in the everyday happenings of life. I wondered. Who would recall times when God was very near, even in the mess and muck of l...

One of my most vivid memories from childhood was going to Vacation Bible School and Sunday School, where we belted out, "I've Got the Joy Joy Joy Joy Down in My Heart" every Sunday. For some reason, this song always ignited competition between the girls and boys regarding who could sing the loudest. This test of the fittest vocal cords often became a shouting match rather than a worshipful moment focused on who could make the most noise. In the mix of this musical madness, the volume of eager-to-win voices drowned out the intention to cultivate great joy in the heart. The winning side of singers was quite happy each week. Still, I don't know if anyone ever considered the difference between joy and happiness. For us, at that tender age, the two were synonymous.  It's been years since I even thought about that song. With kids grown, somehow, it has slipped to a corner of my mind that hasn't been visited in a long time. Still, through life's happenings, I no...

  Do you remember playing the game Mercy when you were young? It was a feat of strength. With hands clasped, each player would try to overtake the other by bending their hands back until the pain was so great the one overtaken would cry, "Mercy!" I wouldn't say I liked the game and only played it under peer pressure. Usually, I did not come out on the winning side.  Where on earth did we come up with such amusement? I do not know why our parents let us play it? Still, the meaning of mercy in those moments of impending pain clarified the situation if we were on the losing end. Didn't it? Sometimes, understanding our need for mercy comes through painful experiences that rock our world, reel us into a reality we cannot control, and land us right in the middle of needing help. There is no question about needing it at such times, but how can we get it? There are countless scriptures about the mercy of our God. Regardless of why we may need it, the One who can provide it is...

My mother-in-law had the most significant servant's heart I have ever seen. She was always busy doing something that would benefit someone else with grace and kindness. I often stopped by her house and found her baking a cake or cooking a casserole for someone in need. Her actions, though seemingly small, had a profound impact on those she served. If she wasn't cooking for others, she was most likely donning a pink hospital auxiliary jacket that she paid dues to wear so that she could volunteer to help others in the hospital, but she never counted the cost. She had a servant's heart through and through serving others daily and meeting the ordinary needs of so many.   In Acts Chapter 8, Jesus travels from town to town, sharing the good news many had been waiting to hear: the coming of the Kingdom of God. Teaching both His disciples and the large crowds that followed Him must have been physically exhausting. Yet, Jesus, by His very words, calmed an angry sea, restored a man p...

A sizeable month-long paper calendar covering the front top half of the refrigerator tells it all. Everything has been predetermined for the month, so I will pay attention and follow through. In addition, my iPhone rings alarms for meetings coming up shortly, and the tiny dings of my Google calendar are yet another reminder to respond to a meeting date or something else of importance. The key to each of these devices, whether paper or electronic, is that they hold predetermined plans.  Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ, writes a letter to the Christians in the New Testament book of Ephesians. Most likely, Paul is under house arrest or in jail for preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ in this Roman-occupied territory. Paul refers to himself as an apostle, which means called out or set apart. He fits this description because God called him by His voice to follow Him while he traveled the Damascus Road and was up to no good. Through this dramatically unexpected experience, Paul understo...

  Life in the small West Texas town where I lived as a child seemed simple. Kids could play outside until fireflies were the only light source. Church bells rang on Sunday, reminding people that this was the Lord's Day, and the school cafeteria served "real fried chicken" and chocolate pie. Business deals were made with a handshake, and on those long, hot afternoons, just about anything could be solved with a popsicle.  Dad's job as an oilfield worker had drawn us to this small community of about eight hundred people. My mother worked several days a week at Spencer and Maude's Shurfine Foods while I went to school. I always loved going to the grocery store with my mother to shop or visiting her on the way home from school because she always bought me a popsicle. I also liked Spencer. He was an elderly man-tall, thin, and very spunky. He loved to play tricks on me when I saw him. Often, he forgot the tricks he's already used and tried them again. I just went al...

  C ome with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest. Mark 6:31b (NIV) For my twenty-first birthday, I asked for a porch swing. That may seem an odd birthday request at such a young age, but I knew something about myself even then. Rest was and still is not my forte. I often complete one task or project only to jump right into another. Rarely do I not appear to wake the sun and begin the new day long before it rises. So, the swing was just what I needed. The movement of gently swaying back and forth in the early morning or late evening breeze bathed my soul with a sense of relaxation. With no specific place to go, this was sometimes an invitation to think and ponder the deep things within my heart. At other times, it was the perfect haven for no thinking, just solitude. I enjoyed the swing as long as we lived in the house. When we moved, I left it behind, it was like losing an old friend, but I hoped the next family to live there would find the same peaceful moments, jo...

Laverne Green was my fourth-grade teacher, and I will never forget her. She always had a smile and a kind demeanor. She read to us every day after lunch, and I would get lost in the stories, especially the Laura Ingalls Wilder series, because she made them seem so real to life. Mrs. Green motivated me to read, which has enriched me throughout my life. When I finished my work early, as I often did, she would find something for me to do while the others finished. One particular afternoon, Mrs. Green handed me a stack of index cards to write the words to a song she was teaching her Sunday School class. This song was not just any song but one that held a special place in her heart, a song that she believed could impact others. I was so proud that she chose me to do the job, and I felt the weight of her trust in me. I worked at it with all my heart, reading the song's words with each card I wrote. Even though Mrs. Green is no longer with us, her influence lives on. I was one of man...