Category Archives: Devo Drops

Thoughts on daily devotional scripture readings

Easy Button

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easy buttonI have an Easy Button on my desk.  I push it sometimes just for fun.  “That was easy!”   People can’t seem to resist the big red disk.  Almost everyone who comes into my office gives it a try.

“Easy” is a popular topic.  Amazon has 171,584 books with the word “easy” in the title.  “Easy Weeknight Dinners”, “Easy Weight Loss”, “Medical Surgical Nursing Made Incredibly Easy”.  Wait…what?

The only time Jesus said something was easy He was discussing yokes and burdens.  “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30.

By the end of most days, I qualify as weary and burdened.  Rest sounds good.  Real good.  I’m all for an evening in the recliner (also known as an easy chair), watching TV and drifting off by 9 o’clock.  Ok…..8:30.

That’s why the next thing Jesus says is so jarring.  Take my yoke.  Weren’t we just talking about rest?  Isn’t a yoke an implement used in work?  I picture two oxen trudging through a field, collared by a heavy wooden bar across their shoulders, pulling a disc that turns over crusty, stony ground.  It’s a dirty, sweaty scene — a far cry from my la-z-boy.

Jesus turns the whole idea of rest and work on its head.  Resting isn’t the absence of labor — resting is yoking up with Him.

There’s an old Jewish legend that says the carpenter’s shop in Nazareth was known for making exquisite yokes.  They were custom made to fit perfectly and finely balanced so as not to be cumbersome.  Easy yokes to make light burdens.

Is it time for a trade-in?  Your yoke for His?

Little Debbies

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little debbieI used to love Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls. When I was nine years old I bought a box of them, went into my room, shut the door and ate every last one.  After that, I didn’t love them so much.  In fact, I never ate one again.  Even decades later I have no desire to peel off the outer coating, unroll the cake and lick off the cream filling.

The desert wanderers had begun to turn up their noses at the manna God was providing each morning.  Some sat inside their tents reminiscing about the free cucumbers in good ol’ Egypt while others stood outside their tents wailing, “Give us meat to eat!” (Numbers 11:13 NIV)  I had to commiserate with the Hebrew children when they yearned to have a morsel of meat.  All they wanted was to take a side of beef into their tent, shut the flap and eat the whole darn thing.

God took care of their cravings — He blew in quail from the sea.  The birds kept coming and coming until quail meat was three feet deep and spread out as far as the eye could see.  Each person gathered about 60 bushels of fresh poultry….the first day.  The Lord said, “You are going to eat meat for a whole month.  You’re going to eat meat until it’s coming out of your nostrils.  You’re going to be so sick of meat that you’ll throw up at the mere mention of it.” (Numbers 11:20 Message)  God certainly knows how to make a point.

This episode was not forgotten.  The Psalmist was still writing about it hundreds of years later.  “They lusted exceedingly in the wilderness and tested God in the desert.  And He gave them their request, but sent leanness into their souls.” (Psalm 106:14-15 KJV).

If I get bored with the life He gives me and start craving something else, I’m on dangerous ground.  God takes my dissatisfaction personally.  If I insist, He will let me gorge myself on the world, but such a feast will ruin my appetite for Him.  I don’t want to face my God with Little Debbies coming out of my nostrils and emptiness in my soul.

Lovin’ Leviticus

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LeviticusI’m serious.  I found a way to love Leviticus.

Leviticus is the third book in the Bible.  It is wedged between the Exodus drama of the parting of the Red Sea, and the intriguing talking donkey and snake-on-a-stick episodes in Numbers.  Leviticus is a tough read with lots of strange rules and regulations.  It’s not my favorite book by a long shot.  But I wanted to do more than just “gut” my way through it this time.  So I found a way to love Leviticus.

After reading the first chapter I prayed, “Thank you, God.  Thank you that I don’t have to bring a bull to church, slaughter it and have PB splash the blood onto the altar.  Thank you, Jesus, for putting an end to all that death by dying.”

Having completed the chapters about the Burnt Offering, the Grain Offering, the Peace Offering, the Absolution Offering, and the Compensation Offering, I thought, “Whew!  Jesus covers it all!  What a relief!  Thank you!”

Following a riveting three chapters on infectious skin diseases and bodily discharges, I sang, “Halleluia!  He cleanses me from all unrighteousness!”

The detailed instructions for the Day of Atonement consisted of at least twenty-five steps for the High Priest to carry out.  There was a lot of blood involved.  I whispered, “Forgiveness is mine, just for the asking.  I’m so thankful.”

I’m loving Leviticus!  It’s making me appreciate Jesus more and more.

Wrestling Revisited: Reversal

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The main event in Genesis 32 is the wrestling match between Jacob and God. (See last post.)  But there is a long back-story involved here.  Isn’t that usually the case?

When Jacob swiped his older brother’s birthright and inheritance, Esau was pretty ticked.  In fact, he planned to kill his brother — so Jacob made a run for it.  The stolen birthright came with a cost — Jacob didn’t see his family for twenty years.  Did Jacob spend those two decades looking back over his shoulder, staying alert, bracing for his brother’s wrath to catch up with him?

Then one day Esau was seen on the horizon, approaching with 400 marching men, headed toward Jacob’s camp.  What was Jacob to think?  It didn’t look like a friendly family reunion in the making.  He sent his wives and children out ahead (nice move) along with wagon loads of gifts for his brother (worth a try).  Totally alone and stripped of everything he owned and everyone he loved, there was nowhere to run so Jacob finally faced his past and his fears.  The struggle lasted all night, but when the sun rose, Jacob had a new name (no longer Deceiver) and a humbler way of walking (a gimpy leg).

I don’t know what Esau had planned to do that day, but I think when he saw his twin brother limping toward him in the distance, he let his hatred go.  The Bible says Esau ran to Jacob, embraced him, kissed him and they cried together.  Maybe twenty years had mellowed Esau, or perhaps he’d had a wrestling match of his own.  What Jacob had dreaded most — the past that haunted him — came and embraced him with mercy and grace.  It was a holy reversal.

When I have regrets from the past or fears for the future I must lay them out on the mat and engage God in the struggle.  Then, what is looming large on the horizon, may just be the very thing that arrives with surprising mercy and grace.

Wrestling

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I never cared much for the sport of wrestling. My kids went for other sports in high school, like basketball, volleyball and baseball. The thought of two sweaty bodies in skimpy leotards rolling around on a mat in front of a crowd of people makes me a little weak. I confess — I’ve never attended a wrestling match, so I shouldn’t knock it, but it’s just not for me.

Or so I thought.

As it turns out, I do a lot of wrestling.

Reading through the Bible brought me to Genesis 32 — a wrestling match. In this corner: Jacob. In the opposite corner: the God of the Universe. Such a formidable opponent didn’t stop Jacob from stepping on the mat. In fact, it seemed Jacob had been training for this main event his whole life. Jacob and his twin brother, Esau, started wrestling in the womb;  Jacob, the Deceiver managed to grapple the birthright away from Esau;  Jacob, the Conniver contested Laban over sheep and wives.

But this time was different. After spending the whole night tangled in a no-decision, Jacob refused to cry “uncle,” even when his hip went out of joint. All for a blessing. Jacob received what he had been struggling for, and more. He came away from the contest with a new name and a limp. And no more need to wrestle.

What am I wrestling with right now? Letting go of children, growing older, desires for future dreams. The key for me is to stay on the mat. I welcome the struggle because it means I’m tangled up in His arms, I’m close enough to feel His breath, I can sense His strength. If I let go, I might avoid the limp, but I might miss the blessing.

“I will not let You go until You bless me.”  Genesis 32:26

wrestling

Taste Life

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A dear friend gave me this book and fountain pen awhile ago.  I’ve been waiting for something significant to write about that would be worthy of such a fancy book and precious ink.  Today I was reminded that every day has significance and worth.  So, I will open to page one and begin to taste life, watching for the gift in each day and giving it a place to land so it will not be lost, but savored again and again.

“Yes, we should make the most of what God gives, both the bounty and the capacity to enjoy it, accepting what’s given and delighting in the work. It’s God’s gift!”  Eccl. 5:19

Emeraude

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Some years, I find the perfect Christmas gift.  Some years, I don’t.  I nailed it this year.  PB opened the present from me and thought it was some stinky men’s cologne.  Without even looking at the bottle, he thanked me and set it down.  I smiled and said, “Oh, honey, that’s not men’s cologne.  You’d better smell it.”   With a curious look he lifted off the top and took a whiff.  Immediately, his eyes got a far-away, glazed-over look and somebody said, “What’s wrong with dad?”

Here’s the rest of the story:  In 1974, my brother was asked to lead the youth part of a weekend retreat at a church several hours away, so I went along for the ride.   The first person I met when we arrived was the pastor’s cute sixteen year old son.  In the following 48 hours, we got to know each other and flirted a little bit.  Ok, a lot.  Even at fourteen, I knew what I wanted in a guy — he had to have a strong faith in God, he had to sing, and he had to be good-looking.  Check…..check……check.   After the potluck dinner on Sunday afternoon, we exchanged addresses in the fellowship hall and promised to write.  (I’m referring here to letters.  No email, texts or Facebook chats.  Gosh, I feel old suddenly.)

A flurry of mail went back and forth over the next few months.  He used his best handwriting.  I sprayed my envelopes with Emeraude.  Hence, the far-away, glazed-over look this Christmas Eve.

Scent has a powerful connection to memory in our brains.  The sense of smell is sometimes called “nasal nostalgia” because we have strong associations of past memories with certain scents.  When God gave Moses instructions on building the tabernacle, He included a recipe for incense (Exodus 30:34-38) that was to be used exclusively at the place of worship.  Just one whiff of that spicy fragrance, and the Israelites were aware that they were entering the presence of the Lord.

Just one whiff of Emeraude, and PB was back in 1974, falling in love with me.

Long Time, No Hear

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listeningSome of my friendly blog buddies have been wondering if I am just now “coming to” after the twin news.  I admit, the announcement did leave me speechless for a while.  But actually, the silence here at Small Drop has been a bit of an experiment.  What happens when I stop writing…or posting….or speaking?  Do people stop reading….or logging on….or listening?  How long are we willing to wait to hear from someone?

How about 400 years?  Malachi wrote the last word of the Old Testament sometime around 430 B.C.   Then came four centuries of silence.  No prophets spoke, no predictions were proclaimed, no judgements were called down on the wicked, no blessings were promised to the faithful.  Nothing.  Silence.

Four hundred years ago it was 1512.  Martin Luther was in seminary and Michelangelo was painting the Sistine Chapel.  What if we had not heard from God since 1512?  It’s remarkable that the story even survived.  It’s astounding that God’s people continued to wait and hope and pray.  Somehow, each generation kept handing down the directive: Wait.  God will speak again.

Then He did.  His first word after all those long years was, “Waaaahhhhh.”  He cried.  The priests weren’t expecting a baby’s wail.  They were sure it would sound more like a thundering voice coming out of smoke and fire, “Thus saith the Lord.”  So they missed it.

That’s what I love about God — He keeps me on my toes.  Just when I think I figure Him out, He does something wild and unexpected.

My experiment with silence on the blog confirmed my suspicions, as each day fewer and fewer people stopped by.  And then something wild and unexpected happened.  Yesterday, after all those days of no posts, hundreds visited Small Drop for my biggest day ever.  Figuring things out is highly overrated.  Being surprised is much more fun.

Lord, I welcome Your surprises.  Go ahead and say or do what I’m not expecting.  Just don’t let me miss it.

In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.  Hebrews 1:1

Moving On

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It’s been a big week.  I celebrated another birthday and the election is finally over.  There are lots of things I could say about both events, but, you know what?  I’m moving on.

Instead of bemoaning the fact that I’m now 53 and whining over the aging process, today I’m going to revel in the realization that I’m alive and healthy and in my right mind (most of the time).

Instead of being dismayed that it was a whopping thirty years ago that I first became a mother, today I will delight in my adult children and rejoice that they still return my phone calls.

Instead of debating about which candidate had all the answers to the weak job market and the struggling economy, today I’m going to go to my office, do my job, and then stop at the store on my way home and buy a few groceries.

Instead of wringing my hands over the decline in moral values and Biblical standards in our society, today I’m going to live with a high level of integrity and pray for my neighbors.

Instead of watching Wall Street and sweating over the Dow Jones Average, today I’m going to invest in each person I meet by depositing a kind word and a smile.

Sometimes the best thing to do is move on.

But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today.  Heb. 3:13

Invisible Fence

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A house near us has a sign in the front yard: “This property is lined with an invisible fence”.  One day, I witnessed the power of the invisible fence.  Bo, our dog, and I were strolling down the street when a big dog came bounding across a yard, heading right for us.  The hair on Bo’s back stood straight up and she positioned herself for battle.  I desperately held on to the leash, trying to avoid a dog fight that Bo was certain to lose.

Then, much to our surprise, the other dog stopped short, let out a yelp and sat down on the edge of the lawn.  We hustled past, both Bo and I, with hearts racing.  I thought, “I need to get myself one of those things.”  But I didn’t have my dog in mind.  I was thinking it might come in handy for me.

Sometimes I wish I had an invisible fence……. for my mouth — some kind of system that would give me a little jolt when I am about to say something insensitive.  I could really use a sharp jab when sarcasm is preparing to spew or when a negative comment is threatening to erupt.  I would gladly accept momentary discomfort if I knew it would keep me from uttering regrettable words.

Such a fence has potential, not just for what comes out of my mouth, but also for what goes in.  For instance, a slight buzz when I’m standing in the kitchen gazing at the almond poundcake might be enough to make me grab a carrot instead.  The Caramel Apple Cheesecake Bars might lose their allure if I know a zap is coming with the first bite.

Perhaps the Psalmist was wishing for an invisible fence when he wrote,

“Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.”  Psalm 141:3