Category Archives: Devo Drops

Thoughts on daily devotional scripture readings

Remaining Steady

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“As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning.  When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it.  Aaron and Hur held his hands up – one on one side, one on the other – so that his hands remained steady till sunset.”  Exodus 17:11-12

Picture Moses on top of the hill, looking down on his people as they engage in warfare with the fierce Amalekites.  Imagine Moses raising the staff in his hands and seeing his people make advances in the combat.  But his arms get tired; when he puts them down for a moment, the momentum in the valley changes. Suddenly, his team of unseasoned warriors struggle to maintain their hold.  Up goes the staff, and the tide turns again.  But his arms get tired….  and so on and so on.

It’s a good thing Moses thought to bring along two buddies.  This was not a one-man job.  The longer the battle, the more support he needed.  And, oh, how we need each other.  Being faithful in prayer is hard work.  Charles H. Spurgeon wrote, “Joshua never grew weary in the fighting, but Moses did grow weary in the praying; the more spiritual an exercise, the more difficult it is for flesh and blood to maintain it.” 

How many battles have been lost because I have grown weary in prayer?  How many battles have been won because I have remained steady in prayer?  It’s a sobering thought.

There was another hill where a man was seen with arms upraised.  That was where the battle for you and me was won.  Instead of holding a staff, his arms were nailed to it so he couldn’t put them down, until the victory was complete. 

Consider him (Jesus) who endured such oppostion…so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.  Hebrews 12:3

Grumbling

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Our women’s study is currently working through the book of Exodus.  This week we read about all the grumbling going on by the Israelite people in the wilderness. (Exodus 16)   One month after the dramatic parting of the Red Sea and deliverance from slavery, they looked back at the good old days in Egypt with nostalgia.  “There we sat around pots of meat…”   So when the food supply ran out, the grumbling began.  They grumbled against Moses and accused him of leading them out into the desert to starve them all to death.  But God heard all the complaining and took it personally.  Moses told the people, “You are not grumbling against us, but against the Lord.”

After coming down pretty hard on those wilderness wanderers, I began to wonder if I ever grumbled.  If?  Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.  The experiment began as I heard PB’s alarm go off at 4:45 a.m.  Now, I’m an early riser, but my hubby’s Friday morning routine is too extreme even for me.  Grumble.  An hour later, I went into the bathroom to find the toilet paper roll was empty.  Grumble.  When I came out to the kitchen, my son’s midnight snack debris was all over the counter.  Grumble. 

The toaster was set too high and my english muffin burned…..the dishwasher needed unloading……one of the socks I put on had a hole in it……grumble, grumble, grumble.  And I hadn’t even left the house yet.  Oh my.  Oh my goodness.  I wasn’t even close to being without food and water in the middle of a desert.  And was God taking my complaints to heart?  Are my murmurings, when I come right down to it, really a way to gripe against the One who is supposed to be in charge of the world?

Try it.  I dare you.  Keep track of how many times you grumble for a day.  Then try walking around in a desert for 40 years.

In With the New

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Most days slip by; they are ordinary and plain.  Some days are heavy with significance and deserve our full attention.  Today is one of those.

I remember many New Year’s Eve celebrations with Grandpa O.  He and Grandma would invite friends and family over for a fun evening of games and good food.  But as the clock neared midnight, he would gather us all in the living room and Grandpa would “pray in” the new year.  I always loved hearing him pray, but especially on New Year’s Eve.  All of us sensed Grandpa’s deep love for God and listening to him give thanks for the year past and speak blessing into the year to come was truly hallowed.  I think we all felt that, no matter what the next year would bring or how badly we would mess up, at least we started it off right.

PB (my hubby, short for Pastor Blake) remembers when, as a boy, he would climb up in the church belfry and “ring in” the new year.  Walking through the dark, empty church at midnight was eerie; one’s imagination could run rampant climbing up the steps to the belfry.  He recalls grabbing the dangling rope, pulling with all his weight and being lifted right off the ground as the bell began ringing.  The Methodists joined in with the ringing of the Catholic and Baptist bells to announce the new year had begun.

We did not “pray in” or “ring in” 2011.  We went to a movie and went to bed early!  But today I am giving some serious thought to a new start, a fresh beginning.  I will start a new journal and make a list of goals.  I will pick out a Bible verse to pray for my children throughout the year and decide what to study.  I will choose a hymn to memorize and begin a new page of prayer requests.  In with the new!

For I am about to do something new.  See, I have already begun!  Do you not see it?  I will make a pathway through the wilderness.  I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.  Isaiah 43:19

The Christmas Necklace

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I wear this necklace every year to the kids’ Christmas program at church. In monetary value it’s worth about $1.99 in glass beads and string. In sentimental value, it is priceless. Here’s the story:

Back in December of 1991, our 9 year old daughter, Katie, was fighting for her life in the intensive care unit at Marshfield Hospital. In a matter of days, she had gone from having a rash to being deathly ill. A few weeks before this sudden turn of events, Katie was learning how to make beaded necklaces at a friend’s house. She and her crafty buddy, Leah, had gotten about halfway done with what was to be my Christmas present and the plan was to finish it together the following week.

But by then, our little girl was in pediatric ICU, 80 miles away from home. Grandpa and Grandma came to take care of our other three children and the churches we were serving. My hubby and I took turns keeping vigil at our sweet girl’s bedside; one of us stayed at the hospital while the other one tried to sleep at the Ronald McDonald House across the street.

A few days before Christmas, blond haired, blue eyed Leah made her way down the hospital corridor and found her friend’s room. She carried with her a box carefully wrapped and tagged with my name. She told me that this was a gift that Katie had intended to give me for Christmas and she figured she better get it to the hospital so Katie could give me my present. Inside the package was the finished beaded necklace. I had never seen a more beautiful piece of jewelry. I didn’t take it off until we brought our girl home 3 weeks later.

I wear it every Christmas so I don’t forget how thankful I am that we have four healthy children. And also not to forget that there are many parents sitting in waiting rooms and hospital rooms who are facing the toughest days of their lives.

Beware that you don’t look down on any of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels are always in the presence of my heavenly Father. Matthew 18:10 

A Snowy Sunday

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As a pastor’s wife for 25 years, I can’t remember ever sleeping in on a Sunday morning. “Should I go to church today or not?” never enters the thought process. For me, a Sunday without church is like Thanksgiving dinner without turkey, the 4th of July without fireworks, a peanut butter and apple sandwich without the apples. That’s why yesterday seemed so weird. Something was missing all day.

The midwest was hit with a winter storm Saturday night, complete with blizzard warnings in our area. For the first storm of the season, it was a real doozy. Snow piled up all night and by morning nobody was going anywhere. So instead of getting up and going over to church, like every other Sunday morning, I lolled about in my pjs. Instead of turning the lights on in all the Sunday school rooms, putting out the attendance folders, unlocking the basement enterance, welcoming the kids, running a Christmas program rehearsal, warming up praise band, and playing piano……

I sat in front of the fire and read the Christmas story, sang a few hymns, said a few prayers. I liked it. I could worship like that….. once every 25 years or so. But I just love being with my friends at church on Sunday mornings, so that’s where I’ll be next week, Lord willing.

 I rejoiced with those who said to me, “Let us go to the house of the LORD.”Psalm 122:1

The Gift of an Hour

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My times are in your hands.  Psalm 31:15

Today is my favorite day of the year! No, really! Today marks the end of Daylight Savings Time. There’s something lovely about getting an extra hour to use however you want. There’s something powerful about taking the minute hand and sweeping it backwards, defying time itself. There’s something magical about being given the gift of an hour. How shall it be spent?

I like this day because it’s not a holiday, so there is no hype, no advertising, no gift buying. The mail is still delivered, the grocery store is open, everything carries on as usual. But all day long I am aware that there is a bonus built into this one day. I feel a real sense of anticipation as I search for appropriately worthy ways to fill this space of time. Sometimes I read, sometimes I pray, sometimes I sleep. Tonight, I write.

Is it possible that every hour is such a gift?

Singin’

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I love musicals. My favorite all-time movie is “Singin’ in the Rain”. It makes me want to break out into a spontaneous song and dance routine while grocery shopping or gassing up the van. Except, unlike the movies, where everyone suddenly joins in with perfect four-part harmony and synchronized dance step sequences, I would be afraid of having to explain my behavior to a police officer. But, oh, to live in a world where people bust out with a show tune and it snowballs into a real show stopper, right there in the check out line. What a fine world that would be.

Music is a powerful force. Just try to imagine living without music. One of the best things about a song is how it can transport you back to a place and time. For instance, when I hear James Taylor’s “Smiling Face”, I’m sitting in my dorm room writing a letter to my future husband. I was falling in love with his smiling face even though we were four states away from each other. That song reminds me of those carefree days and the excitement of a future out there somewhere.

Maybe that’s why the last thing Moses did before climbing a mountain to die, was to teach the Israelites a song. He knew a sermon wouldn’t be remembered after he was gone, and he had already given his share of commandments. But a song…a song would stick with them. So, he composed a song, a very long song, and taught it to the whole assembly of Israel. (Deuteronomy 32) Imagine a 120 year old man standing before a nation, delivering the performance of a lifetime. It would not be forgotten. It would be sung and re-sung for generations. A reminder of their heritage, of their glory days, of their God and His faithfulness.

Moses’ song must have been a good one, because, as it turns out, it will continue on in the last days. (Revelation 15:2-4)  Maybe my dream of being in a spontaneous outburst of song and dance isn’t that far away.

Saved By Grace

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For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace. Romans 6:14

I once knew a boy who was picked up for speeding. He was issued a ticket and given a stiff fine. There was some question in his mind about the whole thing, so he went back to the scene of the crime and re-enacted the event. It was proven that he couldn’t have been going 35 mph in a 25 mph zone because he had just come to a stop at an intersection and wasn’t able to get up to 35 mph where he was clocked. Also, on the ticket, the car was reported to be brown. The boy’s car was blue. Hmm….  The boy decided that he should plead his case.

On judgement day, the boy stood before Her Honor to defend himself. He presented his case with humbleness and respect. Clearly, a mistake had been made and he was certain that his straight-forward honesty would redeem his driving record. The judge asked, “Were you speeding?” Not one given to lies, he admitted that he was perhaps going 27 mph. “Then you broke the law.” Once again, he reiterated the facts that didn’t seem to line up. “You admitted to going over the speed limit.” Gavel bangs. Guilty.

I once knew another boy who had a fender bender. He was issued a ticket and given a stiff fine. There was some question in his mind about the whole thing, so he went back to the scene of the crime and re-enacted the event. It was proven that the car turning the corner had cut into his lane, causing the minor accident. The officer took both driver’s statements and the boy pleaded his case with humbleness and respect. Clearly, a mistake had been made. The other driver said, “I may have cut into his lane.” The boy, not one given to lies, said, “I did roll forward slightly.” Gavel bangs. Guilty.

So it is with the law. There is no grace. Admitting even the slightest infraction makes you a law-breaker. In fact, the law makes you want to be less than truthful; the law makes a sinner out of you.

All that passing laws against sin did was produce more lawbreakers. But sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it’s sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. Romans 5:20

Now, for something truly remarkable: In the mailbox, an envelope appears; no stamp, no address, just the name of the boy. An anonymous note: “Like the MasterCard commercial: truthfulness – priceless.” Inside the envelope: cash to pay for the ticket.

Grace wins hands down.

Wigglers

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Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28

I gave birth to four babies, one at a time, over eight years. Two were snugglers, one was a wiggler and the other was a snuggler/wiggler combo. When I wanted a sweet-baby-cuddle, the wiggler would do that back-arching thing and constantly be moving, shifting, reaching, squirming. We had hugs and kisses, to be sure; but long rock-a-byes weren’t on this child’s agenda. The world was too interesting and stimulating to sit long. However, occasionally there was an owie, or a fever, or a broken arm. Then, the wiggler would settle in on my lap and succumb to snuggles. Wigglers sometimes have to be forced to snuggle.

I’ve been wiggling too much lately. God has graciously invited me to run into His arms, which I have done day after day, over and over. But I’m hard to hold; I arch my back and jostle and churn. Unlike the wiggles of a little one who is just on the go, mine is a restless, agitated motion that can’t seem to come to rest in the Loving Arms until I’ve worn myself out with some inner commotion. Inevitably, a painful situation (owie), or a heated conversation (fever), or a fractured relationship (broken arm) will sap my strength enough to halt the fussing. Sometimes I have to be forced to rest. But, oh, to learn to lean on the Everlasting Arms without all the wiggling.

Borrowing Prayers from John Baillie

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John Baillie was a professor of divinity at Edinburgh University in Scotland from 1934-1956 and wrote over 15 books on theology. I bought one at a garage sale for 50 cents. It has changed my life.

Unlike his other deeply intellectual volumes, this little book is plain and simple. It’s called “A Diary of Private Prayer”. I’ve always liked reading other people’s diaries. Getting in on someone’s private thoughts might seem nosey, and I guess it is. However, being allowed into a godly man’s private prayer closet feels like hushed and holy ground. It’s a real privilege.

For thirty-one days, Professor Baillie wrote a prayer for each morning and each evening. They sound like prayers you could imagine your grandfather saying, with all the “thees” and “thou arts”, “dosts” and “hasts”. People don’t talk like that anymore, but there is something beautiful about the language that seems sacred and hallowed. I admit, those ancient words trip me up occasionally and I find myself interpreting them to my 21st century mind. Even then, these prayers ring true and touch a deep place somewhere in me. I couldn’t in a million years come up with prayers like this on my own, but I sure like to pray like this sometimes. So I borrow John’s prayers when I need to inject some oomph into my paltry parlance. For instance:

“First Day, Morning – Eternal Father of my soul, let my first thought today be of Thee, let my first impulse be to worship Thee, let my first speech be Thy name, let my first action be to kneel before Thee in prayer…  Let me not, when this morning prayer is said, think my worship ended and spend the day in forgetfulness of Thee. Rather from these moments of quietness let light go forth, and joy, and power, that will remain with me through all the hours of the day…”

Translation: “Dear Lord, this morning let the first thought that enters my mind be of You, let my first impulse propel me to worship You, let the first word out of my mouth be Your Name, let my first act be to get on my knees in prayer. And when I walk away from this quiet time, don’t let me get away with thinking I’m done worshiping and forget You the rest of the day. Instead, let these quiet moments infuse light and joy and power into every hour ahead of me.”

Amen, brother John. Thanks for lending me your prayers.