Courage

"Courage is fear that has said its prayers."
-Anonymous

He Can Do The Impossible

I had intended that this blog would all be original reflections, but I keep finding really good ones from other people that I just feel compelled to share. This one is by Max Lucado again. Good stuff!!

The kingdom of heaven. Its citizens are drunk on wonder.

Consider the case of Sarai. She is in her golden years, but God promises her a son. She gets excited. She visits the maternity shop and buys a few dresses. She plans her shower and remodels her tent … but no son. She eats a few birthday cakes and blows out a lot of candles … still no son. She goes through a decade of wall calendars … still no son.

So Sarai decides to take matters into her own hands. (“Maybe God needs me to take care of this one.”)

She convinces Abram that time is running out. (“Face it, Abe, you ain’t getting any younger, either.”) She commands her maid, Hagar, to go into Abram’s tent and see if he needs anything. (“And I mean ‘anything’!”) Hagar goes in a maid. She comes out a mom. And the problems begin.

Hagar is haughty. Sarai is jealous. Abram is dizzy from the dilemma. And God calls the baby boy a “wild donkey”—an appropriate name for one born out of stubbornness and destined to kick his way into history.

It isn’t the cozy family Sarai expected. And it isn’t a topic Abram and Sarai bring up very often at dinner.

Finally, fourteen years later, when Abram is pushing a century of years and Sarai ninety … when Abram has stopped listening to Sarai’s advice, and Sarai has stopped giving it … when the wallpaper in the nursery is faded and the baby furniture is several seasons out of date … when the topic of the promised child brings sighs and tears and long looks into a silent sky … God pays them a visit and tells them they had better select a name for their new son.

Abram and Sarai have the same response: laughter. They laugh partly because it is too good to happen and partly because it might. They laugh because they have given up hope, and hope born anew is always funny before it is real.

They laugh at the lunacy of it all.

They laugh because that is what you do when someone says he can do the impossible. They laugh a little at God, and a lot with God—for God is laughing, too. Then, with the smile still on his face, he gets busy doing what he does best—the unbelievable.

He changes a few things—beginning with their names. Abram, the father of one, will now be Abraham, the father of a multitude. Sarai, the barren one, will now be Sarah, the mother.

But their names aren’t the only things God changes. He changes their minds. He changes their faith. He changes the number of their tax deductions. He changes the way they define the word impossible.

He wants to comfort you

Another great read by Max Lucado... I received this today and just had to share. How amazing that HE really does want to comfort me?!?!

My child’s feelings are hurt. I tell her she’s special. My child is injured. I do whatever it takes to make her feel better.

My child is afraid. I won’t go to sleep until she is secure.

I’m not a hero. I’m not a superstar. I’m not unusual. I’m a parent. When a child hurts, a parent does what comes naturally. He helps.

And after I help, I don’t charge a fee. I don’t ask for a favor in return. When my child cries, I don’t tell her to buck up, act tough, and keep a stiff upper lip. Nor do I consult a list and ask her why she is still scraping the same elbow or waking me up again.

I’m not a prophet, nor the son of one, but something tells me that in the whole scheme of things the tender moments described above are infinitely more valuable than anything I do in front of a computer screen or congregation. Something tells me that the moments of comfort I give my child are a small price to pay for the joy of someday seeing my daughter do for her daughter what her dad did for her.

Moments of comfort from a parent. As a father, I can tell you they are the sweetest moments in my day. They come naturally. They come willingly. They come joyfully.

If all of that is true, if I know that one of the privileges of fatherhood is to comfort a child, then why am I so reluctant to let my heavenly Father comfort me?

Why do I think he wouldn’t want to hear about my problems? (“They are puny compared to people starving in India.”)

Why do I think he is too busy for me? (“He’s got a whole universe to worry about.”)

Why do I think he’s tired of hearing the same old stuff?

Why do I think he groans when he sees me coming?

Why do I think he consults his list when I ask for forgiveness and asks, “Don’t you think you’re going to the well a few too many times on this one?”

Why do I think I have to speak a holy language around him that I don’t speak with anyone else?

Why do I not take him seriously when he questions, “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11)

Why don’t I let my Father do for me what I am more than willing to do for my own children?

I’m learning, though. Being a parent is better than a course on theology. Being a father is teaching me that when I am criticized, injured, or afraid, there is a Father who is ready to comfort me. There is a Father who will hold me until I’m better, help me until I can live with the hurt, and who won’t go to sleep when I’m afraid of waking up and seeing the dark.

Ever. And that’s enough.

How did I get here?

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

--Isaiah 41:10

Perhaps today, you are looking at your life and asking, "How did I get here?" Maybe life hasn't turned out the way you planned. Or maybe you're enslaved to your past and you wonder, "What do I do now?"

If this describes you or someone you love today, I want to remind you that God always preserves His own. Remember Joseph's many trials and challenges in the Old Testament? In Genesis 39:2, we read, "The LORD was with Joseph." Now, remember--Joseph wasn't preserved from his circumstances. He was preserved in and through his circumstances.

The fact is we can't change our circumstances. We can't control what happens to us at all times. But you know what? We can change how we respond to the circumstances of life. And that attitude is what God expects us to work on.

You know, God often allows circumstances and winds to blow against us in order to knock the rough edges off of our lives. Kind of like how sandpaper knocks the rough edges off of wood. God uses the circumstances of our lives in order to polish us and make us more like the Master.

For example, perhaps God had to deal with Joseph's pride and ego before He could ultimately use him for His glory. So God allowed him to be sold into slavery and sent into Egypt. But remember this: While Joseph left his father back in Canaan, his heavenly Father went with him to Egypt.

If you find yourself in a difficult circumstance that you never imagined or never dreamed of, claim the promise from the Lord found in today's Scripture: "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

When you claim that promise, you can be joyful in any circumstance, knowing that God is protecting you, preserving you, and holding His hand upon you.

YOU CAN'T ALWAYS CONTROL WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU,
BUT YOU CAN ALWAYS CONTROL HOW YOU RESPOND.


This devotional was emailed to me from Dr. Jack Graham. Wow!!! Very good stuff. A great reminder to a mom who sometimes does wonder "how did I get here?"

Repsonding to Difficulty

I received this email devotional today from Dr. Charles Stanley - good stuff....

2 Corinthians 4:8

Adversity is never enjoyable, but thankfully, believers are assured that God has a reason for allowing difficulty. And your response to the trial will determine whether it leaves you broken or strengthened.

Romans 5:3-5 states, "We exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint . . . " In order to respond correctly and benefit the way this verse describes, let's consider how the Lord works in suffering.

First, He controls the burdens so they aren't too heavy to bear. He limits them because His goal is not to destroy you but to build your character. Second, He designs the difficulty according to your personality, character, and areas that need growth. Therefore, trials are tailor-made in order to grow you to be more like Christ. Third, difficulties are progressive. As God matures you, the intensity may seem to increase. This is similar to weight training: at the beginning, an athlete trains with light barbells, but as his muscles become stronger, he chooses heavier weights. Similarly, as your walk with Christ progresses, obstacles that once seemed overbearing will impede you less. This is a sign of growth. In fact, a prayer journal is a great way to watch God's progress in your life.

In the midst of your pain, see your trial as a privilege--God is revealing His ways and refining you. Thank Him for trusting you with this situation. Then, ask how to respond, and walk obediently before Him.