Reject Rejection in Favor of God's Favor

The minister yesterday was stressing that the righteous have favor with God.  "You even have favor when you are not feeling particularly blessed," he emphasized. He cited Joseph's troubles: Joseph was blessed to be his father's favorite, but in his brothers' rejection of him, he was sold into slavery.   Yet Joseph had favor with Potiphar.  Even after he had been falsely accused and cast into prison, he had favor with the keeper of the prison.  Then he languished in prison waiting for the butler, whose dream Joseph rightly interpreted, to remember him to Pharaoh. Finally that happened, and circumstances led to Joseph being second in command in all of Egypt.

The Bible is full of promises to the righteous.  We may have down days when we don't feel blessed, but truth be told, we still have the favor of God.  Psalms 1:3, speaking of the righteous, says, "He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither, and whatever he does shall prosper."

Have you ever had something come out right, when you had little hope that it would? Many times I have toiled over a meal, worrying about it's outcome, and yet things seemed to right themselves, with everyone enjoying the food and complimenting the cook! That was God's favor!

When I look back, I know it was God's favor that granted me my husband, and later my family.  It was his favor that none of the children went astray and are strong Christians today.  When Howard went into the ministry mid-career, we still had three of our six children at home to educate on a minister's salary.  One by one we watched as God provided for them.

Trevor just happened to walk into his school's financial aid office and noticed they were having trouble with a computer program.  He knew the program, offered help, was hired, eventually becoming Financial Aid Director, which led to his career with the Department of Education.  God's favor.

Our daughter, Amy, was enrolled in a state college, and we were about to incur considerable education costs, when she fell in love that summer, married that winter, and went to nursing school nearby, most of which was covered by her scholarships.  Again, God's favor.

The youngest, Jamie, was awarded the prestigious National Merit Scholarship, paying all costs and even letting him study abroad his junior year.  And it was God's favor that kept him that year in France, granting him favor with the people (they thought he was French), a part-time teaching job, safety in travel and sustaining him in a serious bout of illness and  many bouts of homesickness.

Look for God's favor in your life.  You are sure to see it if you just acknowledge it.

Flower Power

 Someone mentioned recently that she gets flowers every week when she buys groceries.  I always notice the floral displays when I shop, but it seemed like a splurge for quickly fading beauty, so I always resisted them.  But today, they had bouquets of roses of every shade at a very small price.  I was admiring them and noticed they were further marked down to half off, now that Mother's Day has passed.  I couldn't resist this time.  I bought a half-dozen coral colored beauties with glossy green leaves gathered into a bouquet with a spray of baby's breath.

They are gorgeous and spirit lifting!  I searched around at home and found just the right vase that echoes their lovely hue.  It's like something alive in the room, warm and glowing in the lamp light.  Well, with the packet of floral preservative included, they will look that way a little longer.  I wondered what was in the stuff, so I did a little reading about it.

The preservative contains sugar, for food, citric acid to facilitate hydration, and an anti-bacterial agent to keep bacteria from clogging up the stem and cutting off the water.  The article I read said that the packet usually does  not contain enough of the mixture for the amount of water most vases hold, so the solution is weakened, and you might end up having just enough sugar to promote bacterial growth, and not enough anti-bacterial stuff to kill it.  In that case, you'd be better off with just clear water.  Who knew?

Somehow that struck a parallel of spiritual life to me.  We are like a flower, one of God's wonderful creation.  We need spiritual food, or the Word, and the hydration of the Holy Spirit for life and beauty.  We also need an anti-bacterial agent to keep sin from clogging up our spiritual connection to the Water of Life.  This agent is the blood of Jesus, the remission for sins.

I found that water molecules stick together, and as they evaporate, they are pulled upward into the flower petals, keeping them fresh and beautiful.  The right amount of acidity makes them stick together even more. Reminds me of the unifying power of the Holy Spirit, and the scripture, "Forsake not the assembling of yourselves together," Hebrews 10:25.

If the gospel is watered down, like the too-weak solution, it is almost worse than no gospel at all, with just enough sugar to let sin grow, and not enough anti-bacterial power to resist it.  Evidently, some manufacturers of floral preservative think consumers don't know any better, and they get by with providing a too-small packet and too little product to save a few cents.  This results in dirty, smelly water and short-lived flowers.  A lesson on dead churches and superficial Christianity.

Out to Eat

 The park and the garden were beautiful.  We had finished our picnic and were now dawdling in the welcome warm sun by the fish pools.  I was getting a little tired, and the lovely concrete bench carved with angels was hard, nontheless.  "Howard, sit with your back next to me," I suggested to my husband, then I leaned back on him when he did.  Wow! This was comfortable!  I could sit here all day! The benevolent sun was warming us into indolence as we watched the hypnotic koi lazily swimming about, occasionally darting for a stray insect or some indefinable food underneath the water.

Spring was just coming to the gardens, the budding trees and branches mostly bare, but showing a promise of beauty, like a gangly 12-year-old who had not yet filled out, but whose face and features held a trace of womanliness.  The soft greens that hinted of leaves and the violet of the red bud trees added to the pastel of the blue sky, faded a little today with wisps of clouds veiling its brightness.  We just couldn't let this day go by without taking our sandwiches to the park; yesterday was a brilliant blue, but the winds were a little too sharp for an outing.  And tomorrow promised sun.

"Look, someone's got our place," I had said to my husband when we first entered the park.  A man dressed nattily in a business suit sat erect and preoccupied with papers spread out before him at a round table underneath an arbor.  Maybe a salesman needing a brief retreat during this noon time, I thought.  "It looks too sunny anyway," I consoled myself as we continued along the path.  The first time we had eaten there, the overgrowth was actually stultifying with its denseness, but in the fall, with the leaves thinning, it had been about right for our take-out lunch.

We veered from the path and took a shortcut across the sparsely greening grass to our destination: a gazebo, new last year, outfitted comfortably with side-by-side gliders, an octagonal picnic table, and benches encircling the walls.  Egg-salad sandwiches with little pickles, iced tea, chips and snack cakes were a feast in this setting.  All too soon, we were ambling our way back to the car.  The arbor, empty by this time, would have been perfect with its dappled sunlight, I noticed as we passed it.  Our gazebo, beautiful to look at, was shaded and a little cool within.  But now soaking up the sun leaning back-to-back was a perfect way to get warm.  Shaking off our sleepiness, we headed home for a nap.  

To Be Forewarned is to be Forearmed

There is a popular television commercial in which a person gets a preview of their day, showing the glitches, disasters and irritation ahead of them.  After being forewarned of everything from daughter rolling her eyes at mom's wardrobe advice, to having a flat tire and the elevator being out, the subject, glass in hand, says calmly, "It's a good thing I had  my orange juice!"

I thought about that as the visiting missionary was speaking at church Sunday evening.  After telling us about his ministry and after his young daughter sang a tender little song followed by a solo from his wife, the speaker said he wanted to give a short lesson on prayer. He started by saying that while there are many different types of prayer, he wanted to focus on three.

There is the prayer of desperation, the kind many of us are used to praying.  When something goes wrong, we quickly call on God to HELP us! David prayed this kind of prayer often.  In Psalm 64:1, he prays, "Hear my voice O God, in my prayer: preserve my life from fear of the enemy."  And in Psalm 61, he beseeches, "Hear my cry, O God, attend unto my prayer."  We have no trouble calling out to God in times of desperation.

Then there is the prayer of perspiration, one of hard work and perseverance.  But we are promised: "He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall, but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint," Isaiah 40:29-31.

Jesus was praying like this when in Luke 22:44, it records, "And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling to the ground."

"Guidelines for the prayer of preparation are given in Ephesians 6:10-18, when we are told to put on the whole armour of God.  This includes the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes of the gospel, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

If we pray the   prayer of preparation at the beginning of our day, and are strengthened by prayers of perspiration, we may be less likely to pray in desperation, having been equipped against "the fiery darts of the wicked," or anything else life throws at us.  Kind of like drinking your orange  juice. 

True Value

 One of the most striking examples of devotion in the Bible is found in II Samuel 14:17. David and his men were holed up in a cave at Adullam, virtual prisoners as they had hid from enemy forces that were determined to kill David.  The Bible says in verse 15, "And David longed and said, 'Oh, that one would give me a drink of the water of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate." David was homesick.   Saul had been pursuing him relentlessly to kill him.  Even though David had been anointed to be king, that time had not yet come. He was probably thinking out loud and longing for a bit of home, not unlike any soldier on any battlefield today might say.

But his dutiful men heard him.   Their devotion and loyalty to their admired leader kept them alert to his every word or action.  He did not know they would pick up on his sigh of lament and do the unthinkable.  Verse 16 says, "And the three mighty men broke through the host of the Philistines and drew water out of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate, and took it and brought it to David."

David, a man of deep devotion to God, was  moved by this unexpected, selfless, heroic gesture.  Knowing the cost of what the water represented, he deemed it too precious, too priceless, to drink.  In an ultimate show of what it meant to him, the verse continues with the words, "nevertheless he would not drink thereof, but poured it out unto the Lord."

What would the men must have thought? They had risked their very lives for this token of devotion to their leader! They could only listen in humble awe as David lifted his voice in prayer as recorded in verse 17, "And he said, 'Be it far from me, O Lord, that I should do this: is not this the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives?' therefore he would not drink it." As part of the ritual of Hebrew sacrifices, they never consumed the blood, but poured it out before God.  David was offering to the Lord this water which represented the lives of his men.

Another time, David wanted to buy a threshing floor to erect an altar to the Lord (II Samuel24:18). The owner, Araunah, offered to give it to David, along with oxen for the sacrifice and wood for the fire. But David insisted on paying for it.  He said, "Neither will I offer burnt offerings unto the Lord my God of that which cost me nothing."

Thoughtful gift givers keep their ears open, attuned to a dropped remark or casual mention of something liked or of interest to a dear one.  "How did you know I wanted that?" the recipient often exclaims in surprise.  Because someone was paying attention.  Can we do any less for the desires of our Lord, no matter the cost?

Hills and Valleys

 "We already have several special things planned to do," Kay, our daughter-in-law announced about the couple of days we were spending together in North Carolina.  The first thing they wanted to do was go to a small hamlet called Valle Crucis, a beautiful place of picturesque valleys, sparkling streams, and steeped in local history.  The area was named by a priest in the 1800's when he noticed two streams that crossed in a valley, forming a cross.

The first place we visited was a historic general store dating from 1883 whose slogan was "Everything for the living, coffins and caskets for the dying." A wall of post office boxes filled one corner; several locals collected their mail while we were there. A mammoth wood stove, adapted from a  pot-bellied one, sat om the center of the room where rockers were pulled up and two senior citizens were engrossed in a game of checkers.  The playing pieces were lids of Pepsi bottles.

After the wonderful store, our venture too us to a setting right out of a storybook--the store owner's birthplace--a rustic, two-story cabin that belied an interior of modern conveniences and decorator styling.  A little path led up to a pond with a deck holding Adirondack chairs.  Other farm outbuildings had been converted to guest houses, with the main building a beautiful inn.  We could have stayed all day in the gorgeous surroundings, but we contented ourselves with getting pictures in the porch rockers and dreaming of days gone by.  Mark plans a trout fishing trip there for the summer.

"We have to eat t this place everyone has told us about," Kay emphasized.  "I can't go back home unless we eat there."  We set out to find the highly-recommended restaurant, and we were not disappointed.  We were seated at a table set with glass goblets, place mats and real china, and a cart was pushed in laden with food.  Bowls of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables, steak, country ham biscuits and coleslaw were put in the center of the table for family-style dining.  The food was luscious, then we had our choice of peach cobbler, strawberry shortcake, or chocolate layer cake.

What a sweet ending to a magical day, and what better place for a respite for us and our minister husbands than a place with a beautiful name like Valle Cruci 

Little is Much

 "You never know the power of these shoeboxes," our guide at the Operation Christmas Child department of Samaritan's Purse said.  We had come to the beautiful campus of Franklin Graham's ministry in Boone, North Carolina, and we had just missed the scheduled tour, but the gracious staff thought something could be arranged.  "I'll take you," the friendly employee said to my husband, our son, his wife and me with a twinkle in her eye.  We had already watched an informative video about the history of the ministry, and now we were excited to see how this part of it worked.

She went through the steps with us of how they opened the boxes, taking out any inappropriate contents (chocolate, liquids, glass, or military dolls), which were later donated to charities.  "I want to tell you a story of one shoebox," she offered.  She told of how a woman had filled a shoebox with small articles and enclosed a note she had written, wishing the recipient a merry Christmas and explaining that she had sent the box to her in Jesus' name.  Then she closed with, "I don't have any children of my own."

It just so happened that the young girl who received the box was in an orphanage, her parents having been killed in a war.  She had already told her caretaker that all she wanted for Christmas was a family.  Together they wrote to the donor of the box, and more correspondence ensued, with the American woman eventually coming to meet the little girl.  She ended up adopting her and taking her to live in America.

"We sent 650,000 shoeboxes from this warehouse," our host said of the huge building.  "I asked one of the personnel what that many shoeboxes looked like.  He said if we stacked the boxes wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling, we would fill  the warehouse twice."  Then she finished, "What are the chances than one box would go to the child who needed a mother from a woman who needed a child?" We agreed it was the providence of God.  She had other stories of miraculous results of the shoeboxes.  "Remember," she stressed, "it's not the contents of the box that matter.  It's the act of love that sends them, and what God can do with them."

We left with new appreciation of the work there and amazed at God's orchestration of events in the ministry of His laborers.  The aura of peace seemed to surround the complex set in the beauties of His creation was almost holy. The verse comes to mind that says, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills. From whence does my help come? My help cometh from the Lord, who made Heaven and Earth." These spectacular hills and mountains certainly bore witness of their Creator.